Up, up we went as the elevator sailed toward our destiny.
I was flying, soaring on wings of pure sensation.
Reid’s hands were all over me, touching, exploring, savoring every curve. The filmy chiffon skirt inched upward, exposing the lacy tops of my stockings. Reid’s fingers found them, traced the pattern against my thigh, and my knees threatened to buckle at the exquisite intimacy of his caress.
The elevator glided to a stop, but Reid’s hands were still ascending, still moving higher and higher along my thigh—torturously, deliciously languid, as though we had all the time in the world. I leaned back against the elevator wall and closed my eyes, waiting…waiting for his touch.
His fingers whispered against the silk of my panties, a touch so light it might have been my imagination. Then he stroked deeper, firmer, and I knew nothing in my dreams had ever been this good.
“You’re so damp and hot and ready,” he whispered against my mouth. “Will you never cease to surprise me, Christine?”
I was surprising myself, as well. I was discovering a whole new me. I was discovering a woman who had more than just fantasies, more than just dreams. I was discovering a whole new world of passion and desire and torrid heat.
“I want to surprise you,” I whispered back, my hand slipping boldly between us, touching him.
His breath drew in sharply. “God,” he rasped, just before his mouth found mine again.
Our kiss was even hotter this time, more intimate because there was no mistaking what was about to happen between us. I couldn’t wait. I’d had ten years of longing, almost a decade-long buildup to this moment…this ultimate joining of mind, body and soul.
Reid reached past me and turned the key in the control panel. The doors swished open. Without breaking the kiss, he swept me up, shoving aside the layers of fabric so that his hand was against my legs. I wrapped my arms around his neck, tightly, a stranglehold of passion as my tongue plunged inside his mouth.
He groaned and nearly stumbled as he carried me down the hallway. Thankfully no one was about. We would have made quite a spectacle, no doubt, especially when we stopped outside Reid’s suite and he almost savagely jammed his key into the lock several times before he made the right connection. He was breathing heavily, muttering oaths when the door finally swung open and we stepped through.
The room was dim, with only moonlight to guide us. Reid leaned back against the door, as though he could wait no longer, and kissed me again, a long, lingering, soul-shattering kiss that had me clinging to him, whispering to him, “I want you…I want you…”
He carried me swiftly through the living room toward the double doors of the bedroom. The doors seemed to fly open of their own volition. We swept through and tumbled to the bed, arms and legs deliciously entangled.
Reid’s busy fingers, as nimble and clever as a magician’s, found the back zipper of my dress and lowered it. The strapless bodice fell away, and then the dress seemed to vanish, so quickly I had no time to think—only to feel.
“Is this real?” I whispered.
His hand moved to release one of my stockings, then lowered it slowly down my leg. “It’s as real as you want it to be, Christine.” His voice was deep and sensuous, darkly erotic. The other stocking was unfastened, and he slid the silk down my leg, caressing briefly my inner thigh, my calf, the sole of my foot. My bra came next, and then my panties, mere whispers of fabric that were dropped to the floor without a sound.
Emboldened by the heat rushing through me, I sat up and shoved his jacket down his arms. It fell to the floor with a soft rustle. Reid stood, almost flinging off his tie and shirt with short, deft movements.
“Oh, my,” I whispered as he stepped out of the rest of his clothes and kicked them aside. I watched him in the moonlight. The sight of his chest, the muscles bulging in his arms and lower…all that…unleashed power…
My stomach quivered with anticipation.
Our gazes met as he walked toward me.
He put one knee on the bed and drew me to him. We were kneeling, face-to-face, heart-to-heart. We kissed as moonlight misted us with silver. He tipped my head back, allowing freer access to my mouth and my throat and the hollow between my breasts.
My hair cascaded over my shoulders and swayed against my skin, a sensuous, erotic, wanton sensation. I loved it! I loved the feel of Reid’s body, warm and throbbing, against mine. I loved his hands on my breasts, teasing me, thrilling me until I grew weak and desperate. I loved his tongue inside my mouth, gliding in and out in a tantalizing preview of what was to come. And I loved his fingers—those clever fingers!—slipping downward, downward between us to show me yet another, more provocative imitation….
My back arched as I gasped. I tried to pull away, but he held me so tightly I could feel our hearts beating against one another, in time now, like the Rada drums.
“Dance with me, Christine,” he murmured.
“Reid.” I breathed his name into his neck. “I feel so weak…so hot…”
“It’s time then,” he whispered as he lifted me. I wrapped my legs around him, and slowly, his hands grasping my hips, he lowered me onto him.
And the fire dance began.
The drums started up, or was that the pounding of our hearts? The carnal rhythm set the pace. Slow. Deep. Relentless. His hands on my hips moved me up…and slowly down. Up…and slowly down. Our bodies glistened in the silver light. Our whispers and sighs and ardent commands were chanted into the silence.
“Faster,” he demanded.
“Don’t stop,” I pleaded.
I closed my eyes and all I could see was fire, a blazing inferno that enveloped the whole world. Inside the flames, Reid and I moved together in a dance as old as time.
I watched us, and the image made me frantic with need. I could see my long, golden brown hair swaying against my bare back; I could see firelight glinting on Reid’s naked chest. I clutched him even tighter, my hands moving over him in a desperate search.
He lowered his head and whispered to me, made me burn with slow, deliberate heat as he reached deeply inside me and touched my soul.
And the dance went on….
Our bodies slid together, hot, straining, and the pounding of the drums became louder, roaring in my ears with an urgency that made me want to scream.
It was happening. The final moment was here. It was beautiful and wonderful and so very frightening…that ultimate loss of control. And yet I couldn’t hang on any longer. I couldn’t…
“Reid!”
If possible, he fitted us even more tightly together. His mouth took mine in long, desperate thrusts of his tongue as heat exploded inside us.
We fell back onto the bed, gasping.
“Oh, God,” I whispered.
“Oh, Christine!”
I was lying on my back, and he raised himself up on his elbow to gaze down at me. I could feel my face coloring. Now that the urgency was over, my old self was starting to reemerge.
I couldn’t believe I was lying here naked. With Reid St. Pierre! And we had just had sex. Incredible, earth-moving sex. And I couldn’t believe that he was actually gazing down at me with such tenderness it made me want to cry.
He lifted one of my hands to his lips, brushing the knuckles with the lightest of kisses. And then there, in the depths of his blue eyes, I saw the wicked gleam, the merest hint of a taunt that was so much a part of the old Reid.
“And I thought you said you couldn’t dance.”
My face reddened even more. I wanted to cover myself, and yet something held me back, a defiance against all those old shackles. “I just said I wasn’t very good,” I murmured, dropping my gaze from his.
“You underestimate yourself, darling,” he whispered, turning my hand so that he could graze my palm with his lips. “You always have.”
“I’ve always tried to be realistic.” My eyes fluttered closed as his lips moved up my arm and his tongue skimmed the inside of my elbow.
“You can’t get muc
h more real than this,” he said, and I agreed. I rolled to my side, so that we were facing each other. Reid put his arm around me and pulled me to him. The rhythm of our hearts had slowed, but they still beat as one. He tucked my head against his shoulder, and we lay there for long, silent moments, listening to the dark.
“Do you think people are wondering what happened to us?” I asked suddenly.
“I don’t much think anyone’s wondering….” he murmured drowsily, tracing indolent circles on my back with his fingertip.
“Do you mind?”
“Mind what?”
“That they know about us.”
“Why should I mind?” he asked in surprise. “We’re both free. Now.”
Something in the way he said “now” made me pull back so that I could look at him. He was staring with a brooding frown into the moonlit room. His arm was still around me, but for some reason I sensed a distance between us, a chasm I didn’t understand.
I drew even further away from him. “Is something wrong?” I couldn’t help the tiny chill of fear that crept around my heart.
Reid looked at me for a moment, his gaze hooded. Then he said slowly, “I think it’s time we talked about him.”
“Him?”
“Your husband. Danny.”
“Now? You want to talk about him now?” Talk about lousy timing. “Reid, couldn’t this wait?”
“No. I don’t think it can.” His chin and jaw were set in stubborn, resolute lines. He looked at me, then glanced away as his arm dropped from around me. Rising from bed, he picked up his pants from the floor and drew them on, then stood at the window, staring out.
I had no idea what had caused his sudden mood swing. Shivering with cold, I slipped beneath the covers and huddled there, waiting for him to speak. When he didn’t, I finally blurted, “Exactly what is it you want to know?”
“Everything. I want to know everything.” Slowly he turned to face me. “Starting with why you married him so quickly after I left Chicago. I want to know why you didn’t wait.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Wait? I don’t know what you mean.”
“You know exactly what I mean. Why didn’t you wait for me?”
My hands flew to my face. My heart was tripping all over the place. “But I thought…”
“Thought what? You knew there was something between us. You had to have known. What did you think all those looks were about?”
“But it was just one week…we saw each other so briefly. I thought you were…I don’t know…mildly amused by me. There was no reason why I should think that you felt about me the way—”
One dark brow shot up. “The way you felt about me? I thought you’d never admit it,” he said grimly. His fingers raked through his dark hair. “I tried to tell you then, but we were hardly ever alone. And when we were, you were so damned distant, like you were afraid of me. When Christopher was with us, I didn’t exactly feel I should be putting the moves on his young daughter. So I didn’t say anything. But you knew, Christine. We both knew.”
“Yes,” I whispered, still hiding beneath the covers.
“Then why in the hell did you marry someone else?” he said angrily. “I was coming back to Chicago in a few weeks. You knew that.”
“You were coming back? But why?”
“Why do you think?” he asked bitterly. “I wanted to see you again. I wanted to make sure that what I suspected about us was true.” He stopped and glared at me. “Christopher called you from the airport the morning we left. Do you remember? I asked him to tell you that I would be back in a few weeks, that I wanted to see you. Am I to take it he didn’t relay that message?”
“He didn’t even mention you,” I said miserably. “I thought you’d left without even saying goodbye.”
“I see.” He came back and sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes intense. “I didn’t say goodbye because I had every intention of returning. In his own way, I suppose Christopher was trying to protect you. Six weeks later he told me you’d gotten married. Six lousy weeks. Why, Christine? For God’s sake, why?”
“Because I wanted to forget you,” I said simply. “You frightened me.”
“Frightened you? Because I was interested in you?”
“Because…because I thought you weren’t,” I said. “Because I thought you couldn’t be. You were so much older, more sophisticated and…worldly. Danny was my own age. We had similar backgrounds. We’d been dating for several months when I met you, and he’d already asked me to marry him. He asked me again after you left, and I was so confused. I thought it was the right thing to do. He was kind and sensitive, and he wanted to take care of me.”
“I would have taken care of you, if that’s what you wanted, needed. Damn it, you were mine, Christine. You let him touch you and you were mine.”
“Reid—”
“Does that sound crazy?” he asked. “Macho? Chauvinistic?”
It was all of those things, and I loved it. To think that he had cared about me, wanted me all those years ago. It was too good to be true.
“That was ten years ago,” I said softly.
“And the attraction has only gotten stronger,” he said. “Do you feel it, too?”
“My God, can you doubt it? But what does my marriage matter now? It was all so long ago and it was such a mistake. I never loved him, not like—” I looked away and then finished softly, “In time, he came to realize I didn’t love him, and it broke his heart.”
“Like you broke mine?” he asked coldly. “Why does that surprise you? Do you think I’m incapable of pain? Of being hurt? I can assure you, Christine, I’m only human.”
Only human? I somehow doubted that. He seemed so much stronger, so much more invincible than a mere mortal like myself. He would control destinies—not be a victim of fate. Or poor judgment.
“If you really felt that strongly, why didn’t you come to see me after Danny was killed? Why didn’t you call me? In ten years, Reid, you never once tried to get in touch with me.”
“It was too late by then, you see. I couldn’t risk it. Didn’t dare.”
The St. Pierre pride, I thought, with my own stab of bitterness. “I had to let you come to me,” he said, almost in defense.
“And so I did.”
He smiled then, the coldness melting away from his eyes as he reached for me again. “God, Christine,” he whispered desperately. “What took you so long?”
* * *
Later, we drove up the mountain with the top down on Reid’s car—something I had never done before. It was wonderful. The exhilaration of the wind whipping through my hair. The freedom of having nothing but the stars overhead. And the thrill of having Reid’s hand so possessively caressing my leg.
It was truly a night of wonder and magic. A night of discoveries that would change my life forever. A night I would live over and over again in memory…
The house was dark when we pulled into the drive, but it was so very late I assumed everyone had long since arrived home and turned in. And now we were home.
Home. What a glorious word. What a whole new meaning it had. For the first time in my life, I felt as if I actually belonged someplace…and to someone.
Our eyes met in the moonlight, and we shared a smile.
Oh, the intimacy of such an innocent gesture! The utter thrill of something so simple as having Reid walk me to my door, of having him linger—as if he, too, hated to see the night end.
We stood on the veranda sharing long, deep, intensely satisfying kisses. When I tried to pull away, he wrapped his arms even more securely around me.
“Just one more,” he murmured.
“You said that ten minutes ago. Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Do you have any idea how little I care?” His lips moved in my hair. “It’s not even dawn yet. We’ve hours of darkness left.”
The low, seductive way he said darkness made the word take on a whole new connotation. I shivered against him.
“See? You
’ve gotten cold again. Why don’t we go inside and…talk for a while?”
“Do you really want to talk?” I asked with assumed innocence.
“Actually…I’d rather dance.”
“There’s no music.”
I’d hardly gotten the words out when the distant sound of drums echoed through the woods.
“There’s our music,” Reid whispered. “Can you feel the rhythm?”
Oh, God, I could! The pulsing, driving, relentless beat pounded through my veins. Reid’s gaze was hot, incredibly arousing. Mist from the woods swirled around us, entwining us in a cool web of intimacy that was a fine counterpoint to the heat throbbing between us. I felt breathless and desperate.
“Sometimes I think you really are a magician,” I whispered in a ragged voice. “You can make things happen by will.”
“How right you are,” he said enigmatically, his eyes like blue flames in the moonlight. “I made you come to me, didn’t I?”
“Why don’t you make me do it again?” I whispered in a tone I hardly recognized as my own.
“What?”
“Come…to you.”
I’m not even sure how we made it into the guest house after that. I remember pausing at the door, Reid backing me up against the wall as he kissed me until the blood surging through me was so hot, my skin tingled with it. He pressed us together, and nothing was left to the imagination. His hips moved against mine, the suggestion so intense I wanted to curl myself around him.
We stopped again just inside the door. The zipper of my dress was familiar territory by now. If possible, it took even less effort this time. The misty fabric fell to the floor with a seductive whisper, and I stepped out of it. Reid’s jacket came next, then his tie and shirt, both ripped aside and tossed away like so much worthless trash.
“If we’d stayed naked, we could have saved ourselves a lot of time,” Reid muttered.
“Yes, but I’m finding the undressing is worth the effort.”
He kissed me, long and hard on the mouth. “You could be right,” he murmured, pushing me back on the stairs while he unfastened my stockings yet again. The silky fabric slid down my legs like a hot, summer breeze. His fingers followed the path all the way down, then back up again. His mouth explored my ankles, the back of my knee, and upward…slowly…oh, so slowly…and so deliberately and so…thoroughly.
The Seventh Night Page 17