by Diana Palmer
“Yes.” She didn’t let go of his neck. He didn’t seem to mind. He eased down on the bed beside her and bent to her soft mouth.
She relaxed into the covers, loving the slow, expert way his mouth explored hers. He was tender and hungry. So was she. She sighed under his mouth and tugged at his neck.
“Is this what you want?” he asked softly as he eased down against her, one big hand sliding up her rib cage.
“Oh...yes,” she managed in what sounded like an absolute moan of pleasure. She arched up helplessly, wanting something else, something more.
He noted the hard peaks pressing at the front of her shirt and smiled to himself as he started working at buttons.
She wanted what he was doing, but she looked worried.
“Mandy’s bringing up lunch soon,” he whispered against her mouth as he got the buttons apart and slid his hand inside, slowly, under the frilly little bra she was wearing.
She arched, shivering, as he touched her very gently. Her eyes searched his.
“I’m not playing,” he said huskily. “It’s no game.”
She shivered again.
“You belong to me,” he breathed against her mouth as his ground into it. “You’re mine, Meredith. My own...!”
She held on for dear life as he took her into realms of pleasure she’d never dreamed of, oblivious to the pain of her injuries, due to the painkillers she was still taking. While she was loving the hunger of his mouth, it shifted abruptly and found its way inside her blouse, under the bra that he’d unclipped while he was kissing her. His lips curved over her bare breast and he suckled her, hard.
She arched and cried out. The pleasure was so sweeping that she shuddered as his mouth fed on the soft flesh with its hard crown. He moved closer, pressing his hips against hers with helpless need, careful even in passion to spare her his weight by resting on his forearms.
She felt the hardness of him with wonder and a little fear. He seemed not quite in control, and she knew she couldn’t stop him. She didn’t want to stop him. She loved him.
All at once, he moved away from her, his eyes lingering helplessly on the pretty, taut little breast with its rosy hard crown and the faint red marks his mouth had left on her. “Oh, God,” he whispered.
He sat up and shivered, groaning with the denied hunger. His body was in torment. He managed to get to his feet and walked over to the window, looking out at the fenced pastures beyond the house. He was trembling with unsatisfied desire.
“I’m sorry,” she said, upset by his reaction. She put her bra and blouse back in place. He looked devastated. “I’m so sorry, Ren.”
“I’ll be all right,” he said, his voice calming. “It was my fault. It was too much too soon. You just got out of the hospital.” He winced. “Did I hurt you?”
“Oh, no,” she said softly, and managed a smile. “I’m still on painkillers,” she explained. She could still taste him on her mouth. He was heaven to kiss.
He drew in another deep breath and finally turned back to her. He didn’t look angry, she thought, surprised. In fact, he was smiling like a man who’d won the lottery.
“So much for worrying that you’d never forgive me.” He grinned.
She didn’t understand what he was saying.
“We’re volatile together,” he said, searching her eyes. “I love it.”
She relaxed a little, laughed self-consciously. “So do I.”
“When you’re back on your feet,” he said softly, “we have decisions to make.”
She bit her lower lip. “Ren, I’m old-fashioned...”
“Not a problem, sweetheart.”
“But...”
The door opened and Mandy walked in with a tray of oyster stew and a cappuccino. “I made your favorite coffee, too,” she told Merrie. “Mr. Ren, I’ve got a nice steak and salad for you and the Avengers downstairs.”
He grinned. “Thanks, Mandy.”
“You’re most welcome. Here you go, sweet girl.” She put the tray, with legs, over Merrie’s legs, noting without comment her swollen lips and flushed cheeks. “Eat it while it’s hot.”
“Thank you,” she told the housekeeper.
“You’re my baby,” Mandy said gently. “I have to take care of you.”
“I’ll go downstairs and eat. Then I’ll be back,” Ren told Merrie. He smiled possessively.
“Okay,” she said, smiling with breathless happiness.
He chuckled as he left the room.
* * *
HE WAS BACK after they’d both had lunch. But before he could talk to her, say what he’d planned to say, there was a commotion downstairs.
Ren got up from the side of her bed and opened the door, listening.
“...told you, you can’t set up shop like that,” Barton was telling someone. “We have security already.”
“Well, now you got more,” came a deep, gravelly voice. “Where’s the kid? And I want to see more of her work. She’s good!”
There was an audible sigh. “She’s upstairs.”
“She do those?” the voice asked. “Nice work!”
Ren imagined they were looking at the two paintings whose frames Meredith and Sari had unstraightened in the hall downstairs.
There were loud footsteps. A couple of minutes later, Mikey came in, followed by a large, imposing man with a scarred face who had a lionish look about him. His face was broad with chiseled lips and wavy dark brown hair threaded with silver. He looked like a wrestler. He was big, threatening. He had black eyes, like Ren.
“You the kid?” he asked Merrie. He smiled, relaxing the hard, threatening look on his face.
“I’m Meredith Grayling,” she said.
“Tony. Tony Garza,” he introduced himself. “I guess you know him.” He jerked a thumb toward Mikey.
She laughed. “He’s Cousin Mikey.”
The thick eyebrows arched. “He’s your cousin?”
“He’s Paul’s cousin. But he’s family,” Merrie said softly, and Mikey grinned sheepishly.
“He said you’d do a portrait of me,” Garza remarked.
So this was the mob boss? “I thought...well, when I did a portrait of him—” she indicated Mikey “—Paul sent me photographs...”
“Nothing better than the real thing if you’re going to do a painting.” He sobered. “I’m sorry about what happened to you. Nobody will hurt you ever again. Don’t worry about it anymore, okay?”
She flushed. She smiled. “Thanks, Mr. Garza.”
“Just Tony,” he said easily. “I’m moving in for a few days. Mikey said it was okay. Is it?”
She laughed. “Of course. We have plenty of room.”
“They can sleep anywhere.” He indicated the two burly men near him.
“We have a bedroom downstairs that’s empty and it has twin beds,” Merrie told him. “Our bodyguards sleep next door to it.”
“Those guys,” Tony said, nodding. “I hear they’re pretty good.”
“They are,” Merrie said.
“So are mine. That’s Beppo—” he nodded to one “—and that’s Big Ben—” he indicated the other.
The men nodded. They didn’t smile. There were bulges under their jackets that looked like guns.
“We won’t get in the way,” Tony added. “There’s a good restaurant in town...”
“I don’t mind cooking for extra people, if they’re here to save my baby,” Mandy said from the doorway. “I always make plenty, anyway. I can make homemade lasagna,” she added.
“Darling!” Tony Garza said enthusiastically, and bent to kiss her wrinkled cheek.
She flushed like a girl. “Mr. Tony!” she protested.
His eyebrows went up again.
“I’m from Georgia, originally,” sh
e tried to explain. “It’s how we refer to people...”
“I kind of like it,” Tony mused.
She grinned. “Okay!”
“Well, me and the boys will get settled. No rush, about the painting,” he added. “Well, maybe a little rush. I hear we’ve got FBI all over the place already, and the local PD has us under surveillance, not to mention the sheriff’s department.”
“The FBI is my brother-in-law. He lives here,” Merrie explained.
“Oh. Well, he’ll be bringing company, I imagine.” Tony sighed.
“They won’t intrude. I’ll make sure of it,” Merrie assured him.
He chuckled. “Okay, kid. You’re all right,” he added with twinkling dark eyes. He motioned to his men and they went out. Mandy followed them with a soft laugh.
“Apparently,” Merrie told Ren, “I’m safe now.”
“Aiding and abetting,” he murmured drily. “If you have to do time, I’ll do something to get myself arrested so I can go, too.”
“Aw,” she said.
He smiled softly. He bent and kissed her lightly. “Matched set,” he whispered. “Nobody’s breaking us up.”
She absolutely beamed.
* * *
THAT NIGHT, SHE was worried about being alone. Sari had offered to stay with her, but she assured her sister that she’d be all right. Sari and Paul went to bed, but Merrie lay awake worrying about the hit man. Tony had said she’d be all right, but would she?
The door opened and was left open. Ren came in, wearing burgundy silk pajama bottoms and a loose red robe that matched them. He climbed into bed with her, on top of the covers, and pulled her to him.
“Now go to sleep,” he murmured, kissing her forehead. “We both know you won’t sleep if you’re by yourself.”
She caught her breath at his perception. And at his obvious affection. “How did you know?” she wanted to know.
“I’m not sure. Maybe I’m psychic.”
“My family...”
“Door’s open,” he reminded her with a soft chuckle. “It will stay that way.”
“Oh. Okay, then.”
He rolled over toward her, his face barely visible in the muted light that filtered in from the security lights outside the house.
“You aren’t really afraid of me, are you?” he asked under his breath.
“Oh, no,” she whispered. “Not at all!”
He smiled as his mouth slowly covered hers, slow and tender. His hand went under the covers, under the soft silk nightgown, onto her warm breast.
She slid her fingers into the thick hair sprinkled over the hard muscles of his chest, loving the way he felt.
He caught his breath.
“Do you...like that?” she asked.
“I like it.” His face nuzzled hers as his mouth went to her soft throat and down, over her collarbone, onto the silky skin of her breast. His mouth opened over the hard nipple, and he fed on her hungrily.
She arched, shivering, her breath coming like a runner’s.
“Oh, God,” he groaned. He stripped away the covers and her gown. His robe slipped to the floor. “Meredith...!”
His mouth was all over her. She writhed on the covers, thanking God she was still on painkillers or she’d be dying of pain. She loved his hunger, holding on as he took her from one peak to another in a veritable fever of need. His mouth slid down her soft belly and pressed, hard, against her soft flesh. He was losing control very quickly. She was so responsive, as hungry as he was. She couldn’t stop him. He wasn’t sure he could stop himself.
This was wrong. She wasn’t completely well. She’d just been in the hospital. Besides that, she’d never live it down, never get over it. She’d blame him. She’d blame herself...
He drew back from her, shivering with denied hunger. “No, honey,” he whispered. “Help me.”
“What?” she stammered.
He drew her completely against him, trying to ignore the exquisite feel of her bare breasts against his chest, and he hugged her close, rocking her. “Hold on, until it passes,” he gritted. “No, baby, don’t move...against me like that. It hurts. It really hurts...you understand?”
“Not really,” she whispered. But she stopped, just the same, and let him hold her. Eventually, the hunger dissipated.
What seemed a long time later, he moved her nightgown back into place, put her back under the covers, slid into his robe and pulled her close again.
She took a deep breath. She still ached, but not so much. “How did you know...to do that?”
“Back in the dark ages, when I was a teenager, I learned how to dampen down the fires.” He chuckled. “I never liked girls who gave out to any guy who asked. The ones I dated, in those days, were sort of like you.”
She didn’t like thinking of him with other women. Especially now, when she knew how expert he was at this. He didn’t learn what he’d done to her in books. She was jealous.
He brushed her ear with his mouth. “There hasn’t been anybody in months. And there will never be anybody else except you. Not as long as I live,” he said at her ear.
She caught her breath. What he was saying was profound. “Really?”
“Really.”
She smoothed his black hair. “But you stopped...”
His mouth slid against her cheek, down into her throat. “It’s a new world, with you. Besides the fact that you’re still recovering from an attempted hit, I don’t have anything to use, and I don’t want you to look back with regret on our first time. When we make a baby, it should be after we’re married. Don’t you think?”
“Married!”
He lifted his head and gave her a sardonic look. “You’re a virgin. And your family is all over the place. Can you imagine what your sister would do if I seduced you?”
There was a sound outside the room. “Well, I imagine she’d have you taken out to sea and tossed overboard with an anchor tied to one leg,” came Sari’s amused voice from the doorway.
“Damn,” Ren sighed. “Caught in the act!”
Sari burst out laughing. She came into the room in her nightgown and robe and turned on the bedside light. She gave them a smile.
“Well, no need to ask if you were planning to do the honorable thing. You both have clothes on and the door’s wide-open. I gather Merrie couldn’t sleep?”
“No, I couldn’t,” Merrie said with a faint laugh.
“I was just telling her a bedtime story,” Ren prevaricated.
“That might be true, except for the way you both look,” Sari mused.
“You might try not to look so self-righteous,” Merrie shot back with a grin. “Or don’t you remember what you did to Paul in the Bahamas the night you were rescued? And you didn’t leave the door open!”
Sari blushed. “Mandy talks too much,” she said.
“So it’s the pot calling the kettle black,” Merrie added, laughing.
“I guess so. Well, if you’re okay, I’ll just go back to bed,” Sari said, her blue eyes twinkling.
“It really is okay,” Merrie assured her. She looked at Ren with her heart in her eyes. “He wants to marry me.”
“He does?” Sari asked, surprised.
“He does,” Ren replied, looking at Merrie. “More than he wants to go on breathing.”
“Well!” Sari exclaimed. “So I guess you’ll be living in Wyoming.”
“There’s Skype,” Merrie replied, beaming. “And we’ll come and visit. You can come out to Wyoming.”
“There’s Skype,” Sari agreed. She smiled and nodded. “I want you to be happy, sweetheart. Even if it’s in Wyoming.”
“Thanks, Sari,” Merrie said softly.
Sari sighed. “Back to bed. Apparently you’re going to be working tomorrow.”
> “Apparently so,” Merrie said. She wiggled her eyebrows. “Isn’t it exciting? We have the Godfather right in our own house!”
“Make sure you do the best painting you’ve ever done in your life,” Sari teased.
“You bet I will.” She drew in a breath. “It’s such a relief, you know. God bless Mikey for setting it up.”
“I’ll agree with that,” Sari said. “Good night.”
They echoed her good-night. She left the door open on her way out.
Ren tugged Merrie closer to him. “Go to sleep,” he said softly. “When you finish the painting, we’ll decide on wedding dates and places and rings and things.”
“Okay.” She snuggled closer. “I’ve never been so happy in my life.”
“Neither have I, honey,” he whispered, wrapping her up against him. “Neither have I.”
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Merrie set to work in her studio. Tony Garza was a fascinating subject to draw. His face was like a stone carving, all chiseled features. He looked like a statue that Michelangelo might have sculpted.
She mentioned it to Tony and he chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, adding a line to the sketch she was making as a preliminary to the painting.
“Michelangelo was one of my ancestors, so the story goes,” he told her.
“Wow!” She laughed. “I’m impressed.”
He glanced at her without moving his head. “That painting you did of Mikey. Did your brother-in-law tell you what Mikey did for a living?”
“No. He just gave me the photos and asked me to do a painting. I added the details myself.”
“How did you know? I mean, the knife on the table, the red curtain, the darkness behind him...really profound.”
She smiled sheepishly. “I don’t know. I just...sort of see inside people, to what they really are. Mikey was hard, because I don’t usually work from photos.”
Tony cocked his head. “How are you going to paint me?” he asked. “What sort of background?”
“I don’t know yet,” she told him honestly. “I start working, and it just...comes out on the canvas.”
“Well,” he replied with a faint smile, “I guess we’ll both learn something when the time comes.”