by Linda Howard
“Don’t hide anything from me,” she said.
It was such an unexpected and startling thought, that any woman could know everything about him and stay, that Gideon almost flinched. He couldn’t bare himself in every sense to anyone. Bare bodies, yes. Bare souls? Never.
He didn’t want to talk about anything beyond the physical, so he spread Hope’s thighs and stroked. She sighed and wrapped her fingers around him, gently, but not too gently. She caressed, and he closed his eyes and left everything behind to get lost in sensation. This was sex. It was good and right and powerful, but it was still only sex.
By the time he reached for the bedside drawer, neither of them were thinking about explanations for what this might be. It just was.
Sometimes a rabbit is just a rabbit.
ELEVEN
She should have been able to sleep like a baby, but that hadn’t happened. Not yet. Her mind was spinning with a thousand questions. When Hope became so restless that she began to worry about waking Gideon, she left him sleeping in his bed while she quietly roamed the half-dark bedroom.
Moonlight from the uncovered window and a hint of illumination from a night-light in the bathroom made it easy enough to see. Gideon was a bit of a minimalist, without a lot of unnecessary stuff in his house. There were family pictures on the walls here and there, but no flower arrangements or useless knickknacks on tabletops. She ran her hands over the dresser in his bedroom. Carelessly discarded on the surface was a ceramic dish for coins, a silk tie he’d dropped in a heap, a small piece of turquoise and what she recognized as another protection charm. She ran her fingers over the small silver charm attached to the slim leather cord. A week ago, if someone had told her that something so innocent and unimportant as a piece of silver could carry the power to protect, she never would have believed it. Now she knew that many of the things she’d once believed were wrong. She lifted the charm and placed it around her neck, where it lay close to the one Gideon had given her. Tabby was out there somewhere, and besides, her heart needed all the protection it could get at the moment. Was that kind of protection even possible? Or was it too late for her?
She grabbed a T-shirt Gideon had dropped onto a chair near the dresser, pulled it over her head and very quietly walked onto the deck that overlooked the Atlantic. The sound of the surf, together with the gentle light of the moon, soothed her, and she definitely needed soothing tonight.
It wasn’t like her to get deeply involved with anyone or anything so quickly. She studied all new enterprises from every angle before committing herself in any way. She always remained coldly and totally detached from any situation until she knew without doubt that a move was the right one. She’d been that way since the age of eleven, maybe even longer. She didn’t make rash decisions. Not anymore.
And here she was, deeply involved with Gideon Raintree. Through the sex, his secrets and the case they were working together, she was involved to the pit of her soul.
She heard the door behind her open but didn’t turn to look at Gideon. His bare feet padded toward her, and a moment later his arms encircled her. Those arms were warm and strong and wonderfully embracing. It was a nice feeling, to be held this way. She liked it. Maybe too much.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered.
“Two nights together, and I wake up because you’re not where you’re supposed to be,” he responded with a touch of displeasure in his voice.
She leaned her head back and relaxed against him. “I’m not exactly accustomed to needing anyone, either.”
He slipped his hands beneath the oversized shirt she wore, raked his palms against her bare skin and cupped her breasts with familiarity. His fingers teased the sensitive nipples until she closed her eyes and swayed against him, her body responding quickly and entirely. She shouldn’t want him now. She should most definitely not need him this way, with an intensity that drove away everything else. But she did.
His hands feathered over her breasts. Was that a touch of unnatural electricity that seeped through her skin and shot to her very core? Or was what she felt so intensely simply the response of a woman to a man? Gideon had such nice hands, charged or not, and he touched her as if he owned her, as if he knew exactly how to make her his in every way. He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck, familiarly and gently and amazingly arousingly. Her body quivered.
She turned in Gideon’s arms, lifted her face and kissed him. Her mouth against his, she slipped her hands around his waist. He’d walked onto the deck naked—not that anyone would be on the beach to see them at this time of night, in this near-dark—and she boldly ran her fingers against his back, his hip, his thigh. If it was true that he could make her his, then it was just as true that she possessed a part of him, at least for tonight.
He kissed her deeply, arousing her and demanding more with his lips and his tongue and his hands. Her body clenched and unclenched, quivered, and quickly spiraled out of control. So did Gideon’s. She felt it in every caress of his hands; she tasted it in his kiss. Moaning low in what sounded like frustration or maybe impatience, he easily lifted her off her feet. Her legs wrapped around his waist. He was close, so close.
“Don’t you need a—” she began breathlessly.
“Already thought of that,” he said, his voice husky.
She shifted her body to bring him closer, to guide him into her. “You came out here wearing a condom? Pretty sure of yourself, weren’t you?” she teased.
“I was overcome by optimism.”
The tip of his erection teased her entrance, and she began to lower herself onto him, anxious and wanting in a way that still surprised her. She’d had more sex in the past twenty-four hours than she’d had in the past five years. And she had never had sex like this before, all-consuming and powerful and beautiful, without awkwardness or disappointment. She had never felt a moment’s disappointment in Gideon’s arms.
“I’m glad you woke up,” she whispered, her mouth resting against his ear. “I’ve never made love in the moonlight before.”
Gideon went still. His entire body tensed, muscles tightening. “Moonlight.”
He lifted her away from the railing she was partially balanced against, and carried her into the deep shadows against the house. No moonlight touched them there, and there was no railing to lean against. Gideon held her; she held him. The wall was against her back, and she felt grounded and afloat at the same time.
They were lost in complete and utter darkness when he pushed inside her, deep and hard. Hope didn’t care where they were. Moonlight or daylight, darkness or sunshine. Under the covers or beneath nothing but the moon and the stars. As long as Gideon was with her, as long as he was holding her, she didn’t care where they were. Instinct called her to him, but there was more than instinct here, more than intense physical need.
She hadn’t thought herself in love for a very long time. Her mother, her sister, her nephews, that kind of love was all she dared to believe in. Romantic love was filled with pitfalls. She not only didn’t wish for that emotion, she did her best to avoid it. Love was a trap, heartache just waiting to happen. This unexpected rush of emotion she felt for Gideon right now, while he held her and filled her and brought her closer to release, surely it was just the power of sex.
But as he made love to her, with her back to the wall and her arms and legs wrapped completely around him, she couldn’t imagine any other man but Gideon making her feel this way. She could love him. She could wrap her entire world around this man and change who and what she was, who she had become. Ghosts, light shows and all, she could love him. Scary stuff.
They came together with a cry and a moan that were lost in a deep kiss. With the sounds of the surf in their ears and the moonlight inches away, with her body trembling, there was a moment of perfection when those words crossed her mind again. I could love you. Lost in darkness, the gentle glow of Gideon made her smile. I love you tugged at her lips, but she bit the words back. It was too soon for such a confessio
n. It was also too risky.
He carried her inside the house and placed her gently on the bed. After disposing of the condom, he returned to the bed to lie beside her. She kept his T-shirt on. She liked the way it felt against her skin, this worn cotton that still smelled vaguely of Gideon.
“I’m going to get up in the morning and go to the Cordell crime scene to have a look around,” he said, his voice like gravel and silk.
“You mean we, right?”
He hesitated. “I want you to stay here.”
She rose slightly. If she hadn’t just been thoroughly exhausted and satisfied, if I love you weren’t still niggling at the edge of her brain, his words might have made her angry. Instead she smiled. “No way.”
“There are other case files that need to be examined. I need you here.”
“Put the top up and I’ll read the files in the car.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her body against his. “Can we argue about this tomorrow?”
“Sure.” Her eyes drifted closed. Maybe now she could sleep. “I like arguing with you,” she said beneath her breath. “You’re really cute when you get mad.”
Gideon snorted, and then he laughed. “You’re one of a kind, Hope Malory.”
“So are you, Gideon Raintree.” It was as close to I love you as either of them were willing to get.
Gideon woke not long after sunrise, which was normal for him. Waking with his arms around a beautiful woman was not so normal.
His sexual relationships in the past had been brief. Even in those that lasted a few weeks or even a few months, he maintained a certain distance. He didn’t spend the night elsewhere or ask women to spend the night here. It was too dangerous.
Sleeping with Hope didn’t feel at all dangerous. It felt right and good and natural, as if they had been sleeping together for a thousand years. And that was truly dangerous. It was so dangerous that last night he had almost forgotten Emma’s words and taken Hope right there in the moonlight. He’d been wearing a condom, but no kind of protection was a hundred percent effective. Moving into the shadows before he’d buried himself inside her had simply been a precaution.
He lifted her shirt, his shirt, and laid his mouth on her flat stomach. Damn, she tasted good. She felt good, so warm and silky. He kissed her there, drawing the essence of her into his mouth, trailing the tip of his tongue up and down, sucking against her skin until he felt her hand settle in his hair.
“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice sleepy and satisfied.
He answered by lifting the shirt a bit higher and pushing his hand beneath the soft cotton. The chill of her protection charm brushed against his hand as he uncovered one breast and took the nipple deep into his mouth. Hope’s fingers threaded more thoroughly into his hair, and he suckled her deeper. He tasted her and savored her until one of those little moans caught in her throat.
This morning he wasn’t in any hurry. He would make her come a time or two, make love to her long and hard and then leave her sleeping soundly. When she woke up and found that he was well on his way to the Cordell crime scene, she might be pissed for a while, but she would forgive him. He knew exactly how to make her forgive him.
He spread her legs and ran one finger along the tender skin of her inner thigh. Her skin was soft, the muscle of her thigh gently shaped and utterly feminine. “You have the longest legs,” he said as he lifted one and laid his mouth behind the knee. She shuddered and wrapped that leg around him as his mouth moved higher. Her leg hadn’t seen much sun. It was as creamy pale as any skin he had ever seen, and it fascinated him. He ran a finger up from her knee, allowing a little bit of electricity to escape. Hope laughed and twitched.
“That tickles.”
“Does it?”
“Yes,” she said with a sigh.
He wasn’t anywhere near finished with this woman. Would he ever be? While the morning came alive, he tasted her everywhere. He made her quiver and lurch; he made her moan. After she came against his mouth, she all but threw him onto his back, determined to have her way with him, as well. Determined to make him moan. And she did. With her mouth and her hands, she studied every inch of him.
Knowing that he was as ready as a man could possibly get, Hope pulled away from him and drew the T-shirt over her head. Gideon reached for the drawer where he kept the condoms. He would have to stop by the drugstore on the way home tonight. He was almost out. And no matter how much he liked Hope, no matter how right and close and true she felt, no matter that she made him glow in the dark, he wasn’t ready to go any further than this. They had great sex, but there was no guarantee that it would last. Not much in this world was truly lasting.
Hope sat on the bed, smiling and flushed and breathing hard all over again. Her black hair was mussed around her face. Perfect Hope, so carefully put together, was utterly gorgeous when she was mussed.
Mussed and naked…and wearing two charms around her neck.
Gideon dropped the wrapped condom to the bed. He forgot about pushing inside Hope and ending this torment. He forgot about everything else but those pieces of silver. “Where did you get this?” he asked as he lifted one of the charms. The one he had not given her.
She lifted the charm and studied it absently. “I almost forgot about this one. I found it on your dresser last night.”
Gideon jumped from the bed and turned toward the dresser in question. Sure enough, Dante’s fertility charm was gone. No, not gone. Hope was wearing it around her pretty neck. “Were you wearing that last night when we were on the deck?”
“I think so.” She pushed her hair back, combing it with long, pale fingers. “Yeah, I was. I picked it up and put it on before I went outside.”
He turned and stared down at her. “Why?”
“I don’t know. It’s pretty.” She removed the charm that had not been made for her, drawing the cord over her head and ruffling her mussed hair further in the process. Not that it mattered. It was too late. Much too late. “I guess I felt the need for a little extra protection last night.” She offered the talisman to him with an outstretched hand. He didn’t take it. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t supposed to touch. Take it and come back to bed.”
“All the protection in the world won’t undo…” He stopped. One time, that was all, and he had been wearing a condom and they hadn’t been in the moonlight. Maybe, just maybe…He rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door.
“Gideon?” Hope called through the closed door. “Are you all right?”
Not even a little. “Fine,” he answered tersely.
Fine? What a lie. He’d been this close to another moment of absolute perfection inside Hope Malory, and then he’d seen that charm lying against her chest. Wanting someone to distraction physically was one thing. Making a baby together was another thing entirely.
Maybe everything was fine. He’d been thinking clearly enough to move Hope out of the moonlight last night before having sex with her. That one fact might have changed everything. Emma couldn’t come to him in a moonbeam if there was no moonbeam in which to travel.
“Emma,” he whispered. “Show yourself.”
He waited for the spirit who claimed to be his daughter to drop in to say hello. After all, she’d shown up before when he’d called her name. But the bathroom remained silent and free of spirits of all kinds.
“You’re sure you’re all right?” Hope called. She was closer now, standing just on the other side of the door.
“I’m fine!” Gideon snapped.
She moved away, and a moment later he heard the water running in the guest bathroom. For a moment he leaned over the sink and studied his sour, bristly-cheeked reflection. He didn’t look like a father; he didn’t feel like a father. “Come on, Emma,” he said, a bit louder than before. “This isn’t funny. It isn’t nice to tease. You’re going to give Daddy heart failure if you don’t show yourself.”
The bathroom remained silent but for his own labored breathing.
Hope was spec
ial; he couldn’t deny that. There was the continuing and annoying glow that told him his heart and soul were as involved as his body. Maybe, a few years down the line, if they continued to have great sex and they worked out the whole partner thing, then maybe he could consider the possibility that Hope was going to be a permanent fixture in his life.
But now?
“Come on, Emma. Sweetheart,” he added. “There’s no need to be hasty about this. A couple of years, maybe ten, and then I might be ready to have kids.” It was a lie, and Emma likely knew it. The world wasn’t fit for the innocence of a child; he saw that for himself every day.
She was pulling his leg. After all, he had moved Hope away from the early-morning moonbeams, and he’d used a condom faithfully.
And Hope had been wearing that damned fertility charm, which very well could have trumped everything.
Gideon took a quick shower, shaking off the feeling of impending doom as he toweled dry and then wrapped the towel around his waist. He found Hope in the kitchen, making coffee and scrounging around the cupboards looking for a breakfast of some sort.
She gave him a wary glance. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah.” He looked at her. Most specifically, he looked at her stomach. “Come on, Emma,” he whispered as Hope turned her attentions to the refrigerator. “Talk to me.”
“What did you say?” Hope asked as she came out with a half gallon of milk.
“Nothing.”
“Oh, I thought you said Emma.” She placed the milk on the counter, beside a box of cereal. “That’s my grandmother’s name.”
He almost groaned but caught himself just in time.
Hope reached for the bowls. She already knew her way around the kitchen pretty well. “My mother has her heart set on a granddaughter named Emma,” she said, “but Sunny has three boys, and I’m not planning to have kids any time soon, so she’s outta luck.”
“Wanna bet?” Gideon asked beneath his breath.
Hope left everything she’d gathered on the counter and turned to glare at him. “Maybe I should call you Rainman instead of Raintree. You’re making no sense at all this morning.”