Edge of Forever

by Sherryl Woods

  She ran her palms across his chest in a slow, sweeping gesture that set his skin on fire. When she left the matted hair on his chest and reached the curve of his shoulders, she caught the edges of his shirt and slipped it off, leaving him bare to the waist.

  Her eyes lifted tentatively to meet his. “Okay?”

  “Whatever you want,” he said on a ragged sigh. “This is your show. You set the pace.”

  Her gaze swept over him lazily, and where it lingered, her touch followed so predictably that Nick could anticipate each one. The curve where neck met shoulder. The tensed muscles in his arms. The masculine nipples almost hidden beneath coarse, dark hair. The flat plane of his stomach.

  But if Dana’s touches were predictable, Nick’s responses were another thing entirely. Never had he anticipated the sweet yearning that was building inside him. Never could he have predicted the urgent hunger, the demanding need that made his legs tremble and tightened his muscles until they ached for release. Never before had he known it was possible to feel so much at the simple brush of a finger, at the fleeting touch of lips. If Dana’s thoughts were bold, her exploration was still shy and all the more exciting because of it.

  She sighed softly. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” She looked into his eyes. “Would you kiss me again?”

  Nick touched one finger to her chin, tilted her face up and very slowly lowered his mouth to hers. The first kiss was sweet and gentle. The next was an urgent claiming. His body shook with the effort of restraint. When he would have pulled away, Dana slid her arms around his neck.

  “No,” she cried out softly, and this time it was her passion, her hunger, that showed him the way.

  “Take me to bed, Nick,” she said at last. “Make love to me.”

  Nick scooped her into his arms without comment, his mouth claiming hers again as he moved through the hall. Dana’s shoes fell to the floor. Her arms circled his shoulders and she rained kisses on his cheeks, his nose, his neck and then, at last, his mouth, lingering there for a sensual dueling of tongues that left Nick gasping.

  Before they even reached the bedroom, Nick had lowered her to her feet, allowing her to slide down his fully aroused body, wanting her to know in full measure what her touch had accomplished.

  “I need you very badly,” he said, tilting her hips hard against him. She held back for just an instant, then swayed toward him emitting a low whimper of pleasure. “Very badly.”

  Dana heard the urgency in his hoarse cry and felt at first a momentary fear, then a blessed sense of triumph. This was love as it should be, demand tempered with caring, need gentled by tenderness. She caught Nick’s hands and drew them to the buttons on her blouse.

  “Your turn.”

  His fingers were much more certain than hers had been, but still she felt the trembling as they grazed her skin. She watched his eyes and in their hazel depths she saw what she had never thought to see again. She saw love. So much love that it made her ache inside. She saw her beauty reflected in his eyes, and in that awed appreciation she found contentment, a serenity that would carry her through all time.

  Her blouse fell away and then the lacy wisp of her bra. Nick cupped the fullness of her breasts in his hands, rubbing the nipples with his thumb until the peaks were sensitive coral buds more than ready for the soothing moistness of his tongue. The flick of his tongue magnified the sensitivity, sending waves of pleasure rippling through her.

  When he reached for the clasp on her skirt, she drew in her breath, holding it as the skirt drifted down to her ankles. She stepped out of the circle of material, then waited, breathless, as he hooked his fingers in the edge of her slip and panties together and slid them off.

  When she was standing before him completely nude and open to his touch, a shudder swept through him.

  “You are so beautiful,” he breathed softly. “So very beautiful.”

  “Only with you, Nick. I feel beautiful with you.”

  He scooped her into his arms again and at last they finished the journey to the bedroom. When Nick lowered her to the bed at last, Dana felt as if she had finally reached the edge of forever.

  She watched through partially lowered lashes as Nick removed the rest of his clothes, then stood before her in unself-conscious splendor, his body as finely tuned and well muscled as an athlete’s, tanned and proud. Her lips curved into a smile and she tilted her head thoughtfully.

  “I think, perhaps, you’re the one who’s beautiful,” she whispered huskily.

  The mattress dipped as Nick stretched out beside her. A smile played about his lips and laughter danced in his eyes. “We could fight about which one of us is more beautiful.”

  Dana shook her head. “No fighting. Not now and certainly not about that. We have better things to do.”

  “We do?”

  She rolled toward him, feeling the first thrilling shock of having the full length of his body against hers. “We most definitely do,” she said as her mouth found his.

  Nick’s hands claimed her with a gentleness that she blessed at first, then came to curse. She wanted more than the light, skimming, feathery touches and she urged him on, gasping when he moved from the tender flesh of her thighs to the moist heat between her legs. He hesitated until she put her hand on his and encouraged more.

  An unbearable tension coiled inside her until she was pleading for release, begging Nick to set her free. Unaccountably, his fingers stilled as he insisted that she drift back to earth and join him.

  Her body glistened with perspiration, more sensitive than ever to his gliding touch.

  “Why are you waiting?” she asked, confused and let down.

  “This is your trip, Dana. I want to be very sure we take it when you’re ready.”

  Suddenly she understood what he was doing and she felt a swell of love in her chest. “You told me once you’d know when I was ready.”

  “Oh, I think you are, but it’s your decision, your move.”

  She knelt on the bed beside him. “Now, Nick. I’m ready now.”

  A faint smile touched his lips as he grasped her and lifted her into position straddling him. Slowly, with the utmost care, he settled her in place. As he filled her, Dana knew a glorious instant of possession and then she was beyond thought. She was only feeling as she rode him, taking her pleasure from him. The spiral of tension wound tight again and then, like a top, she was spinning free, exultant, taking Nick with her in a burst of joy that set them both free from the past and sent them whirling on, into the future.

  Much later Dana awoke in Nick’s arms, feeling secure and unafraid in the circle of his strength. The bedroom was in the shadows of twilight, and in the dim, gray light, she watched him sleeping and thought again how incredibly handsome he was and how utterly right their love was.

  She must have sighed because Nick’s arms tightened just a little and he murmured, “What is it? Are you okay?”

  “I am—” she searched for the perfect word “—complete.”

  His fingers ran through her hair, combing the tangles free. “You’re not sore? I didn’t hurt you?”

  “You could never hurt me.”

  “I hope not, Dana.”

  She was troubled by his too-somber tone. She propped herself up on his chest and ran her hand along the curve of his jaw, peering intently into his eyes. “Why do you say it like that?”

  He caught the tension in her at once. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t look so serious. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that it’s impossible to predict whether we’ll ever hurt someone. I’m sure in the beginning Sam didn’t realize he would hurt you.”

  Dana flung herself away from him and in a voice icy with anger she said, “I don’t want Sam Brantley in this bed with us, Nick. Not ever. There’s no comparison between the two of you.”

  Nick sat up and put his arms around her shaking shoulders, soothing her until he finally heard her sigh.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have exploded like that. It’s j
ust that I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

  “No. I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up Sam. Do you suppose we can get back to us?”

  “What about us?”

  “Well, for instance, are you interested in getting out of this bed and getting some dinner?”

  “Dinner’s an interesting option,” she conceded. “But I have a better alternative.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  And she did. Again and again, Dana tried to show Nick just how much he had freed her from her worst memories. She replaced old nightmares with new dreams. She was fire in his arms and he was more than willing to be consumed by her flame. She took what he offered and tried to give it back tenfold, proving without a doubt the depth of her love.

  Then, sated at last, they slept again.

  Chapter 14

  When Dana awoke, pale streaks of dawn lit the room and Nick was gone, his place in her bed already cool. For an instant she panicked, her heart thumping wildly. Why hadn’t she noticed this sooner? How had she slept through his leaving?

  Then she saw the note propped on her bedside table.

  It’s very late. You were sleeping so peacefully I didn’t want to wake you. I had to borrow your car to pick up Tony. I’ll come by for you in the morning.

  Love, Nick.

  “Love, Nick.” She repeated the words aloud, just to hear how they sounded. They sounded wonderful. Terrific. Great. She pulled his pillow into her arms and inhaled deeply, enjoying the lingering traces of his rich masculine scent, recalling in sensuous detail his possessive branding of her body. Her flesh still burned at the memory of his wicked touch. She was Nick’s now in every way that counted.

  She discovered with a sense of astonishment she was at peace at last. Her thoughts were decidedly pleasant, her heart incredibly light. The past was still very much with her, but it was where it properly belonged: behind her. Nick was her present, and if good fortune remained with her, he would be her future, as well.

  She bounded out of bed and scurried into the shower, filled with plans for the day, beginning with a huge, sinfully caloric breakfast to make up for the dinner they’d never found time for. She sang lustily as the water flowed over her, soothing the unfamiliar aching in her thighs. She washed her hair with her favorite herbal shampoo and then toweled herself dry until her skin glowed with a healthy blush and her hair fell to her shoulders in a damp, shining cloud that would have to wait for the taming of brush and dryer.

  She straightened the tangled sheets on the bed with a smile of remembrance on her lips and moved through the house in search of stray clothing that had been tossed aside haphazardly in the night’s urgency. When the last traces of their passion had been removed from everything except her memory, she began to prepare their meal—bacon, waffles, eggs, fresh-squeezed orange juice and raspberry jam. She found a vase for the rose that Nick had picked for her and set it in the middle of the table.

  With an uncanny sense of timing, Nick pulled up out front just as the waffle iron hissed its readiness when she sprinkled a few drops of water on its heated surface. She threw open the back door and waited for him to turn the corner of the house. For just an instant his expression was unguarded and troubled, but when he saw her waiting there, his eyes lit up and he smiled one of his beguilingly crooked grins.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” she announced.

  “I am,” he said, stealing a kiss that rocked her senses. “For you.”

  “In that case, you should have been here at dawn. Now you’ll have to settle for breakfast.”

  He seemed to bristle at her comment. “You know why I had to leave, don’t you?”

  Puzzled by his sharp tone, she said, “Of course. You had to get home to Tony. I wasn’t criticizing.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair. “Sorry. I suppose I’m just a little out of sorts.”

  Dana studied his expression more closely and saw the tiny tension lines around his set mouth, the shadows in his eyes.

  “Not enough sleep?” she asked, guessing at the cause.

  Nick drew in a deep breath. “Not exactly.”

  His mood frightened her. “What is it, Nick? What’s really bothering you? Are you regretting last night?”

  “No. Of course not,” he said quickly, but for some reason it didn’t reassure her.

  “Then what?”

  “Let’s go in and sit down.”

  She dug in her heels and put her hands on her hips defiantly. “Just tell me.”

  He sighed heavily. “Have you seen today’s paper?”

  “No, I get it at the library. Why?”

  But before he could respond, she knew. As surely as if she’d read each word, she knew.

  “Oh, no,” she breathed softly. “Is it the Brantleys?”

  Nick nodded. “They sent in a letter to the editor.”

  He reached out to circle her shoulders and draw her close. Dana trembled violently in the embrace. “How bad is it?” she asked, her voice muffled against the warm solidity of his chest.

  “It’s all there. Everything.” She looked up in time to see a rueful grin. “Or almost everything. I’ve already called a lawyer and explained the situation. He seems to think there’s not much we can do. They’ve been very careful with their accusations. There’s nothing really libelous in there. They’ve stuck pretty close to the court records.”

  “But the court declared me innocent.”

  “Yes, well, that’s the one little fact the Brantleys didn’t mention.”

  “You know Cyrus Mason. Will he let me tell my side of it in tomorrow’s paper?”

  Nick frowned. “Are you sure that’s what you want to do? Do you really want to open up your past after you’ve tried so hard to forget it?”

  “If I’m going to live in this town, I have to,” she said with absolute certainty. “The Brantleys took the decision out of my hands.”

  “I see your point. But we’ll go to the newspaper office together.”

  “No, Nick. I want to go alone. It’s way past time I stood up for myself. Did you bring the paper?”

  “It’s in the car.”

  “Get it, Nick,” she said. She felt her anger begin to build, fortifying her for the battle ahead. “I might as well see what I’m up against.”

  It was even worse than she’d imagined. There were innuendoes from her in-laws, unsubstantiated by police records, that she’d been drinking heavily the night of the accident. There was mention of the party, made out to seem far wilder than it was. There were suggestions that she had a history of instability, that she’d been hospitalized often for undisclosed reasons.

  Facts had been taken and twisted to make a sensational story. The point? To attack her fitness as a public employee. It was the damning work of two people who had promised revenge and gotten it.

  She looked up from the paper, her eyes blazing.

  “They won’t get away with it,” she vowed. “I will not let them cost me my job, my new life.”

  “No,” Nick said softly, his eyes shining with pride. He lifted her clenched fist to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “This time I don’t think they will.”

  Anxious to get on with things, she asked, “Do you still want breakfast?”

  “No. I don’t think either of us has the stomach for it.”

  “Then let me clean this up and we’ll go.”

  She left the dishes on the table, dumped the waffle batter down the drain and slid the eggs and bacon into the garbage. Pots and pans were left stacked in the sink. Her resolve grew with every minute.

  “Wish me luck,” she said a half hour later as she dropped Nick off by the library so he could pick up his truck.

  He grinned at her. “For some reason, I don’t think you’ll need it. I’ll stop by the library later to see how it went.”

  He had started away from the car when she called him back. She touched the hand that rested on the car and gazed up at
him. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For giving me back my strength, for reminding me of who I was before Sam Brantley came along.”

  “I didn’t do that, Dana. You did.”

  He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers. The kiss was greedy, but it was meant to reassure and it did. She drove away with fire in her veins and determination in her eyes.

  She stalked into the River Glen Chronicle’s office a few minutes later and demanded to see the editor. No one dared to ask if she had an appointment. They just pointed her in the direction of a tiny, cluttered office that was littered with old newspapers and half-empty Styrofoam coffee cups.

  She waited on her feet for the return of Cyrus Mason, the man listed on the masthead as editor and publisher. She paced the well-worn floor, fueling her anger and readying her arguments. By the time he came in, his shirtsleeves rolled up, his tie askew, Dana was prepared.

  Apparently he was already well aware of her seething anger, because he treated her gingerly.

  “Mrs. Brantley, won’t you sit down?”

  “You can. I don’t want to.” She threw the morning paper on his desk. “How dare you?”

  He had no need to ask what she meant. “It was a legitimate letter,” he said defensively.

  “Legitimate? You call that pack of innuendoes legitimate? How carefully did you check it out, Mr. Mason? How far did you go to verify the facts? Not very far, I suspect.”

  “We—”

  Dana didn’t take note of his interruption. She never even took a breath. “If you had, you would know that I was acquitted of all charges in my husband’s death on the grounds of self-defense. You would have learned that for five long years that paragon of virtue they described abused me.”

  Cyrus Mason turned pale. He ran his tongue over too-dry lips as Dana rushed on.