TWICE UPON A TIME

by Jennifer Wagner

  She slipped them on, the slide of satin only doubling her nervous goose bumps. Now, in bed or out? She folded down the sheet and light blanket. There. With the three fat candles burning strategically around the room, it looked welcoming.

  Jeez, Anna, this isn't the hospitality suite!

  She started to pace, wringing her hands, while the panicked mantra, "I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this," raced through her mind. She wasn't a seductress. She was a tired mom, for goodness sake!

  Just then she heard a creak on the stairs and froze, halfway between the door and her bed. Mentally she was scurrying around the room for a suitable place to lounge. None were working.

  Forget it! I'm under the covers, she thought and moved to the bed.

  "Wow." Rico's deep voice paralyzed her mid-dive. "You are not making this easy, lady."

  She didn't turn around, although she could only imagine the kind of view she presented.

  "I came up here to tell you our timing is off." She felt, more than heard, his stepping closer. "But seeing you, I'm thinking to hell with timing."

  If she leaned back a tiny bit, she'd be against him. She fought the urge as she tried to sort through his words.

  "You don't want to?" she whispered.

  He skimmed his mouth against her nape, sending uncontrollable tremors throughout her body. Then his warm hands captured her waist before sliding across her quivering stomach to pull her flush against the front of his body.

  A sigh shuddered out of him as he buried his face in her neck. The feel of his warm, male skin threw the butterflies in her stomach into a heated frenzy. No inch of her collarbone escaped his mouth, and she was trembling helplessly by the time he reached her ear.

  Like a puppet whose strings only he pulled, her body responded to his touch and wordless commands. His palms skimmed up her sides, causing her camisole to wave upward in a cool tide against her heated face. He halted, and the satin pooled on top of her breasts. Outlined in ivory perfection, the satin was stilled only by the nipples hardening in anticipation.

  "Beautiful," he breathed, and she saw that he too watched the satin's undulations across her chest In deliciously slow movements, his fingers skimmed the skin below its waving edges, avoiding the berried tips begging for his touch.

  She gripped the muscled forearms that banded across her chest, and her head fell back against his shoulder. Eyes squeezed shut, she silently willed his fingers to end the throbbing torture. She arched forward and drew a sound from him, although the relentless teasing continued.

  She rolled her head and watched him watch her. He dragged his gaze up to hers, his so hot with need that the ball of warmth in her stomach melted, a liquid consent that needed no further interpretation.

  "Kiss me," she whispered, her fingers curving around the back of his neck and pressing him closer.

  He groaned and mumbled something, but she was beyond trying to piece together words. Their mouths met in an explosion of need in the same moment his hands captured her breasts.

  Nearly incoherent with sensation, her knees buckled, tightening his grip on her. She didn't realize he'd flipped her to face him until he stopped kissing her. She raised heavy lids to see him dragging his shirt over his head. Without embarrassment, she copied him, slinging her camisole onto the floor.

  He froze, then stared at her, shaking his head with an expression of awe as his gaze traveled over her. When his eyes met hers, confidence and a vivid happiness gathered in her, burning off the last of her insecurities.

  He held out a hand, and she twined her fingers with his, remembering a night not long ago when he'd shown her how sensitive fingers could be. With a tug she was against him, chest to chest, skin to skin, heart to heart.

  They hugged, breathing in sync, each marveling over impossible dreams becoming reality. Time passed, and for once neither counted the lost seconds and minutes.

  Because they were together.

  Finally he leaned back, and she couldn't prevent the smile spreading across her face.

  "What?" he asked gruffly, a matching smile starting.

  She snuggled her chin into his chest and tried not to stare at his mouth. "I'm half-naked, shaking with lust," she giggled as he pinched her rear end and then continued, "and so happy I feel like I could burst."

  A devilish light lit his eyes but as he opened his mouth to answer her, his expression became shuttered.

  "Are you?"

  Her smile faltered. "Are I what?"

  "Happy."

  The glow of it filled her, and she knew it was in her smile. "Impossible as it seems. Yes. Totally, completely, absolutely."

  He sighed and brought his hands up to frame her face. He dipped his head to kiss her with overwhelming tenderness. Then, in a move that belied any physical limitations, he swung her into his arms. She curled her arms around his neck and shoulders and took advantage of the skin before her.

  "Hey," he said, nudging his shoulder against her lips. She realized they weren't in the bed, but in the big rocking chair in the corner.

  Confused, she shifted into a comfortable position on his lap. Then she saw his shirt over the arm.

  "Hands up," he said, avoiding her eyes. She started to lift them up as he fumbled with the shirt. Why had he stopped? He still wanted her. She was all but sitting on the evidence.

  But then … why? Mortification seeped into her and she froze, fighting it with the knowledge of what they'd just shared. Sensing her stillness, he met her eyes and proved how strong their connection still was.

  "Don't even think that," he ordered, gathering the shirt to slip it over her head.

  She yanked her arms down, pulling his gaze to her breasts. He looked away, then back at her face.

  "Here, put this on."

  "No."

  He raised his eyebrows at her tone. "What?"

  She grabbed the shirt from him and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall with a satisfying smack and fell in a crumpled heap. Then, with hands braced on the chair arms, she rearranged her legs so she sat astride him.

  "Now that I'm more comfortable," she proved it with a wiggle, "Why don't you fill me in on what happened between the last kiss and here?"

  Eyes wide since her wiggle, he stared at her in disbelief.

  She sighed and leaned into him.

  "Wait!" His hands gripped her shoulders, holding her away from him. She bit back a smile at his obvious dilemma. Hold her away so her breasts aren't touching him, but that left him a huge visual problem.

  "Anna, listen, I know I'm handling this all wrong, and you have every right to slug me, but I can explain. If you put something on first."

  She thought about it for half a second. "No."

  He threw his hands up and focused his gaze on a candle across the room, his face turned resolutely away from her. Considering she'd been panicking about her nakedness not – she looked at the clock not thirty minutes before, it was amazing that she felt completely confident sitting here. And for a big, macho guy, he was acting incredibly childish.

  She smiled a little, then a devilish thought tickled her into a full-blown grin. Stretching her feet out until her toes sank into the carpet, she pushed, sending the chair rocking.

  He whipped his head around and clamped her hips in his hands, pushing them back onto his thighs. "Knock it off, Anna. You're not playing fair."

  She arched a brow at his growl and knew her grin wasn't helping matters.

  "You don't want me," she said evenly.

  "Oh, yeah, you got proof of that," he said sarcastically.

  "I did something wrong," she said in the same mild tone. She didn't put it in question, because she knew she wasn't the problem.

  He looked at her quickly, shaking his head side to side. His gaze skipped down her body, and with a muffled groan he let go of her to grip the chair's arms with white-knuckled fists.

  "You're killing me and sitting there laughing about it. Dammit, Anna, we can't do this!"

  "Why not?"

/>   "Why not? Look at me! Look what you do to me! What good would I be if someone did get in here?"

  "But you said before that it would be fine."

  He sighed. "Yeah, I know. Then I went downstairs and my sanity returned. I'd be crazy to risk everything for this."

  She pulled back a bit, and he looked at her. "Damn, I knew I'd screw this up. That's not what I meant." He pulled her closer. "When I look at you, everything around me sort of disappears. When I touch you, nothing else exists for me, except you. I can't be ready to protect us if I'm not aware of the outside world."

  His eyes beseeched her to understand, and she could see the obvious effort it was taking to rein himself in. She thought of every vile curse and then screamed them in her head.

  "You're right," she said as she untangled herself from his lap. She refused to think of how ungraceful she looked. "I hate it, but you're right. Dammit."

  He chuckled and she marched into the bathroom. In a few seconds she lounged against the door frame in her green Snoopy nightshirt.

  "So, hot stuff, wanna cuddle?"

  * * *

  Rico lay on top of the covers, his right arm between his head and a pillow. Anna curled against him but under the covers, so he couldn't feel any body parts that would destroy his control.

  They'd been talking about the kids and her work, but stopped a few minutes before to lie in silence. Her head rested on his shoulder, and his left hand played with the ends of her hair.

  She was amazing. Never failed to surprise him. He'd walked into the room earlier, determined not to touch her. When he'd seen her standing there, all ivory satin, shadows and candlelight, he'd known he was lost.

  She'd been nervous. He'd felt it in her tense posture against him. But the chemistry between them was too strong for even her to fight.

  If she hadn't smiled at him, radiant and happy, he may not have come to his senses in time. It had slammed into him how much he stood to lose, and the thought had twisted his heart.

  "What's wrong?" she whispered, wrapping her arm tighter around him.

  He smiled in the darkness. It should scare him how easily she picked up on his thoughts and feelings. But it didn't. It comforted him and chased away the loneliness he'd carried for so many years.

  "I was thinking about when you told me you were happy." She shifted to look at him. In the candle's yellow glow, she looked even more beautiful. He didn't know if he could continue not touching her.

  "It's okay," she said, once again turning into him. "This isn't easy on me, either."

  They just stared at each other. The desire was there, but another emotion overpowered it. She hadn't said the words yet. She didn't need to. He could see it, feel it.

  She gave him a small smile and winked. "We're going to have to suffer through this together."

  He tried to smile back, but knew it fell short. The emotions running through him didn't allow for easy bantering.

  She sighed. "Okay. What were you thinking about me being happy?"

  "That I wanted you to always be that way. I was worried that if we made love tonight, you'd pull away again."

  "Why?"

  "Because of our past. Because there's still a lot we have to talk about."

  "True. But I'd consciously made the decision to make love with you. It's not as if we'd gotten carried away without thinking it through."

  He mulled that one over. "You thought about it? What did you think would happen tomorrow, in the light of day? Would you kiss me in front of Mama and our kids like I thought about you doing?"

  She stiffened.

  He pulled his arm from beneath his head and wrapped her in his arms, dropping a kiss on top of her head.

  "Don't," he said, nuzzling her hair.

  Her troubled face tilted up to his. "I didn't want to think about those things. I just…"

  "You just what?"

  "Well, now it sounds stupid and irresponsible."

  He squeezed her, a silent urging to tell him.

  "I just wanted to be with you." She shook her head. "Do you know how many nights I dreamed of you here, in my bed, holding me, believing me? Then to have even a part of that dream coming true. How could I not grab it?"

  "Hell with it," he said, getting up and yanking back the covers. "I have to hold you."

  Surprised, she hesitated and then held the covers up so he could slide between them more easily. Instead, he walked around the bed and climbed in the other side behind her.

  "Here, turn over. I just want to face the door."

  They both sighed as their bodies came together, face to face and sharing the same pillow.

  "One kiss?"

  She nodded.

  A mere melding of lips, as much closeness as they could allow, and his heartbeat sped up.

  He broke it off and gave her a mock-stern glare and order. "Don't make this any harder than it is. No pun intended, of course."

  She chuckled, and the tension lowered to a tolerable level. "So, would you like to hear about the great Chocolate Icing Caper?"

  "Of course."

  "I'm really to blame. After all, in a child's eyes, icing is only a tiny bit thicker than paint. Why wouldn't it look good all over the hallway walls?"

  He laughed.

  And in that room, sheltered by darkness and dreams, they filled in the holes of the past. For a little while there was no pain or anger, no regrets or sacrifices.

  There was only an unspoken love.

  * * *

  Chapter 10

  «^»

  "No!"

  The guttural denial blasted her awake. Her heart slamming against her breast, Anna struggled to focus.

  In the nightlight's soft glow, she could see nothing out of the ordinary.

  Then a fist slammed into her back. She flipped to face Rico as he let out an agonized moan.

  Asleep, with his face twisted by the demons tormenting him, he lay rigid on the bed, his covers kicked off.

  "Wake up. It's okay, you're safe," she whispered, and made a crucial mistake.

  She touched him.

  In a blur of movement her arm was bent back to the breaking point, her face forced into her pillow in a futile attempt to escape the pain. She tried to call him, wake him up by yelling his name, but the pain had robbed her breath.

  "No more."

  The words sounded as if they'd been pulled out of his chest.

  She sucked in enough oxygen to croak, "Okay."

  Abruptly he let go.

  "Oh, God, Anna. Jesus! Did I hurt you?"

  Once again she was flipped, only this time as if she was porcelain and not a bag of cement. Her arm protested the movement, and she used her other hand to hold it close to her body.

  Rico continued to murmur broken apologies around his rapid breaths. As the shrieking in her arm lowered to a holler, her ability to speak returned.

  "You take the term 'bed hog' to new heights." Dredges of his nightmare darkened his face, stole all softness from it. Jaw locked, lips sealed and eyes raging with guilt and horror, another stranger had revealed himself.

  "Sit up. I'm checking your arm."

  Before she could refuse, he'd levered her up. Clutching her arm to her, she closed her gaping mouth. It was obvious he wasn't going to listen to her.

  "Does this hurt?" he asked, carefully raising her arm even with her shoulder.

  She shook her head and bit back a moan.

  "This?" His shaking voice belied his attempt at being medically impersonal. He rotated her sore arm then probed the muscles and bones.

  "Yeah, it hurts, but I don't think anything's broken," she assured him. "I've strained it worse after carrying one of the kids through the mall."

  She smiled ruefully at him, trying to draw him out of the terrible intensity that gripped him while ignoring the throbbing that pulsed from wrist to shoulder.

  He continued examining her arm before nodding, as if answering his own question. He lowered it back down and, in a swift move, sat on the edge of the bed, h
ands gripping the mattress.

  He said nothing.

  She waited impatiently, then let go of her tongue.

  "Are you going to tell me about it?"

  He stared at the floor as if it possessed answers. "Hey," she said, leaning to the side and trying to get in his peripheral vision.

  No response.

  "Warning, I'm about to touch you," she said, half kidding. She reached out and laid her hand on his bare shoulder.

  He was shaking. Not obvious, violent tremors. Intermittent currents like tiny vibrations. "I could have killed you."

  Close enough to see how bloodless his knuckles were, she scooted nearer on the rumpled covers and put her other hand over them.

  "But you didn't. You let go right away."

  He didn't respond.

  "Look at me!" She tightened her hold and shook him lightly.

  His head turned, and she almost wished she could take back the order.

  Devastation. She closed her eyes against it, praying the laughing, loving Rico would return.

  He did not.

  They'd come so far that night, bared so much. She'd known, deep down, that she couldn't bring up his capture, and she'd avoided it. She'd been afraid to lose the magical ease they'd discovered.

  Maybe she should have pushed earlier.

  "Talk to me," she whispered, scooting forward until the knees of her crossed legs touched his side. "I want to know what happened to you. I want to understand it and help you if I can."

  He abruptly shook his head.

  "Please don't shut me out."

  Not again.

  This time it was he who closed his eyes, as if he'd heard the silent words.

  "I respect your need for privacy, but I don't think you should keep this inside. It's eating away at you. I can see it. I can't believe you've kept it hidden, but now that I know, I'm going to push until you share it. Dammit, let me help you!"

  Another emotion flickered, but he looked away before she could name it.

  "It wasn't so bad at first. Threats, beatings." He stood and went to the windows, peeking out. She knew instinctively that he didn't want her touching him while he opened these wounds. So she clenched her hands in her lap and forced herself to remain on the bed.