His mouth twisted ruefully. “Is this the obligatory precoital exchange of sexual histories?”
“If it is, we both know how brief mine will be.”
“Mine isn’t all that lengthy,” he retorted. “There have been a handful of women in my life. None serious.”
Cat studied his expression, noting the way his mouth pulled tightly at the corner. “Are you sure about that?”
“I’m sure.” He hesitated. “There was one I thought was serious at the time, but...it didn’t work out.” There was another pause as he briefly shifted his gaze away from hers. When he turned back to her he offered a resigned smile that seemed to pain him. “You want details, right?”
“Not if you don’t want to tell me.”
He sighed. “There’s nothing I don’t want to tell you, Cat. It’s just...not something I usually talk about. I’m not sure I can.”
She waited, not pressing him.
“It was while I was still on active duty,” he said at last. “I was sent to South America, Colombia to be specific, to watch over the sister of a drug dealer who had made a deal with the government to testify against her brother. Her name was Angelina. She was young and...”
“Beautiful,” Cat supplied when he hesitated.
“Yeah, she was beautiful, but something else, too...contagious, if that makes sense. She made you want to be around her, she made you want to do what she wanted to do. At least,” he concluded with a self-derisive sneer, “that’s how she made me feel.”
“What happened?”
“There were three weeks remaining until the trial when I arrived, and my job was to make sure her brother’s men didn’t get close enough to make good on their threats to do whatever necessary to stop her from testifying. The plan was to keep her on the run, moving through a series of safe houses in the mountains, a new stop every night.”
“I see. If you spent three weeks alone with her, it’s easy to see how things might have become serious.”
“I only spent a little over a week with her, but sometimes that’s all it takes,” he said. The look he slanted her made Cat blush and look away. “Like I said,” he continued, “I thought it was serious, one of those at-first-sight deals you were talking about the other day.”
“Please.” She groaned. “Don’t remind me of all that.”
“All I know is that the way I was feeling, I was more than willing to go along when she asked if we could stay one more night at the cabin where we first...” He glanced at her awkwardly.
“I understand,” she said.
“So I agreed.” He dragged his fingers over his short hair, sagging into the chair next to the tub. “It turned out to be the biggest mistake I ever made.”
“Why, Bolt? What went wrong?”
“Everything. We found out later that she was in contact with her brother the whole time and never intended to make good on the testimony she promised to give. She wanted to stay at the cabin another night because she knew his men had followed us there. And I played right into her hands,” he continued bitterly. “The second night we were there, they tossed an explosive into the cabin.”
“Bolt, that’s awful. Was anyone hurt?”
“I got out in time, but ended up with a broken back from crashing through a window. Angelina got away clean... We figured they must have signaled her to get out right before it happened. And my partner...” He exhaled deeply and shut his eyes. “He’d been scouting ahead and he circled back to find out why I hadn’t made the move as scheduled. He was outside and got caught right in the middle when it went up and—”
She placed her wet hand on top of his where it gripped the arm of the chair. “Bolt, you don’t—”
“He was killed,” he said, breaking in to finish in a rush. He looked at her, and at that moment Cat would have given anything to wipe away the pain etched in his golden eyes. “I didn’t even know he was there. He shouldn’t have been. He wouldn’t have if I hadn’t ignored orders and messed up.”
“You had no way of knowing—”
“I had every way of knowing the right thing to do,” he snapped without allowing her to finish. “I was trained, experienced, the best...or so I thought until that night.” He pursed his lips to exhale, and the breath seemed to carry with it a lot of the anger she had sensed building, as if he just couldn’t hold it all.
He hunched forward, his elbows on his knees, as he said, “Ben Johnson wasn’t just my partner. He was the best friend I ever had.”
“Bolt, I’m so sorry.” She placed her hand on his arm, shaking her head in dismay. “I’m sorry about what happened to your friend...and to you. I’m sorry for making you talk about it. This certainly seems to be my night for dredging up bad memories.”
“That’s all right,” he told her, the corner of his mouth lifting in a not very convincing smile. Cat longed to touch his smooth cheeks and pull him closer. “Maybe that’s where I’ve been going wrong all this time. Maybe you have to dredge up all the bad memories and look them right in the face before you can leave them behind.”
Chapter Eleven
Bolt stood, held out his hand to her and waited.
The connection between his comment about leaving old memories behind and the night that lay ahead of them was nonetheless clear for being unspoken. His silence was both invitation and promise. And perhaps something else that left Cat wondering. A warning?
He waited, his hand outstretched, without speaking a word or displaying a trace of impatience. It was as dramatic a moment as Cat had ever lived through. That is, if she did live through it. The fierce hammering of her heart gave her a moment’s pause.
Finally she put her hand in his and let him help her from the deep tub. Pearlescent bubbles clung to her breasts and tummy and thighs, but hid nothing. Bolt made no secret of his interest, or his delight as his gaze roamed slowly over her body. Her skin, flushed from the warm water, grew even pinker beneath the heat in his eyes. Not even when he reached for a towel with his free hand did he look away.
It was the first time any man had seen her completely naked. She’d always imagined that this particular milestone in her life would take place in the dark, perhaps even under the covers. She expected to feel embarrassed by such a well-lit perusal, especially since he was still half-dressed. As comfortable as she was with her body when clothed, there were a number of curves she’d prefer a bit less curvy if given a choice in the matter.
She wasn’t thinking of those imperfections now, however, and she wasn’t embarrassed. It felt amazingly right and good to have Bolt looking at her, his slight smile unabashedly approving. She relaxed even more as he turned her around and draped the bath towel over her, caressing her through the soft velvety cloth as he dried her shoulders and back, working his way down the back of her legs to her feet before turning her so that she was facing him again. Pulling the damp towel away from her, he reached for another to dry the rest of her. His eyes glittered like hammered brass as he rubbed her breasts for much longer than necessary to dry them, the sensation so exciting and unexpected that Cat had to bite her lip to keep from making a sound.
Leaning slightly to one side, he dried her tummy with leisurely strokes and pats. She sucked in a sharp breath as his hand moved steadily lower. His gaze caught hers, watching her eyes go wide and liquid as his towel-sheathed hand slipped between her thighs, imparting a gentle pressure that made her knees weak and her hands land against his chest for support.
He smiled with satisfaction and held her for a minute before kneeling to dry her legs. Tossing the second towel aside, he wrapped her in the thick terry robe hanging nearby.
He led her by the hand to the bedroom. If there were any lingering ghosts or bad memories still with them, they were left at the door as they entered the room lit by what seemed to be hundreds of white candles. The flames flickered and danced all around them, casting a luminous glow that made the whole room shimmer like a scene from a dream.
Cat gasped with pleasure at the sight.
> “My goodness, Bolt, I’ve never seen so many candles all lit at once.”
“A night like this only comes around once,” he told her quietly. “Something extraordinary seemed in order.”
“This is certainly that...extraordinary.”
Turning slowly, she gazed around the entire room, at the tall narrow candles gathered in clusters of five or six around the bed, and the shorter, thicker pillar-shaped ones that lined the dressers and mantel. Her gaze stopped at a silver pedestal bucket filled with ice and an open bottle of champagne. Beside it, a small table draped in white linen held what she guessed was their dinner under silver warming domes.
“It was waiting at the door when I got back,” Bolt explained.
“Even the champagne?”
“That I requested specially.” He reached for the bottle and poured two glasses.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll start singing?” she joked, a little taken aback by all the trouble he had gone to while she’d been killing time in the bathtub.
“Not at all.” He glanced up from his pouring. “I know how to stop you, remember?”
Cat laughed, remembering all too well how he had silenced her in the elevator, as well as what had followed. Tonight wouldn’t end that way, she thought with satisfaction. It wouldn’t end with angry words and her lying awake in her bed, alone with her regrets.
She took the fluted glass of champagne Bolt handed her, eyeing him awkwardly. “I feel as if we should make a toast or something.”
“Go ahead,” he urged, his small smile indulgent. He watched with interest as she sought the right words. “To tonight,” she said finally, lifting her glass.
He touched his to it lightly. “To tonight.”
They both took a sip.
“Would you like to have dinner?” he asked.
She shook her head, tugging on the tie of the oversize robe. “I really don’t think I could eat. Now.”
He smiled. “Me, either.” He reached behind him and picked something up from the bed. “For you,” he said quietly, holding out a sheer nightgown of white silk and lace.
“It’s beautiful,” she exclaimed, taking it from him and holding it up, exclaiming all over again when she saw the intricate detail on the bands of lace and felt the suppleness of the silk. “It’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I guess I should have handed it in to you while you were in the bathroom and waited for you to put it on.” The rueful note in his voice did nothing to disguise the obvious pleasure he took in her reaction. “But I couldn’t wait that long to see you.”
“I’ll put it on now,” she said, eager to see herself in it and feel the sheer fabric against her skin.
“Even knowing that I’m going to take it right off you again?” he asked, his eyes gleaming fiercely.
“Even so,” she whispered, shivering. “Turn around, please.”
He chuckled and obeyed.
It took her only a few seconds to shrug out of the bulky robe and pull the floor-length nightgown over her head. It drifted over her body as if it had been made for her alone, hugging her narrow waist and the full curve of her hips, the fine silk feeling like a feather boa against skin made sensitive by his touch.
“All right,” she told him. “You can look.”
Bolt turned and stared at her without smiling or saying a word. He didn’t need to. The dark glitter in his eyes and the way his throat muscles flexed as he swallowed hard told Cat he liked what he saw very much.
“I was right,” he said at last. “The saleswoman told me that most women prefer wider lace straps.” As he spoke he slipped one long finger beneath one very narrow strap. “But I told her that I wanted as much as possible of your beautiful shoulders left uncovered.”
He bent his head and kissed her left shoulder, dragging his tongue along her collarbone to the base of her throat. Cat arched her neck in response.
“She insisted,” he continued in that same deep, lazy voice, “that most women found the wider straps more comfortable.” He kissed her right shoulder and slid his hand beneath her hair, winding it over and through the long strands still damp from her bath. “I didn’t think it polite to tell her that I wasn’t interested in making you comfortable...only in making you mine.”
Using his hold on her hair, he tipped her face up to his and stared deeply into her eyes as he lowered his mouth to hers, moving with excruciating slowness, angling his head and parting his lips in a way that sent a rush of anticipation through her.
His kiss was long and hard, and Cat had to breathe in deeply for a minute afterward before she could talk.
“Bolt,” she began, vaguely troubled, “why did you buy this nightgown for me? And order the champagne and light all these candles?”
“I told you. I wanted this night to be special.”
“Is that all you want?”
He cocked his head to the side, his expression darkly amused.
“I mean,” she added hurriedly. “I hope you don’t expect...too much from me.”
“I don’t expect anything at all,” he said, rubbing her back, making her want to curl against him like a satisfied cat in spite of her sudden reservations. “If you want to call a halt right now, or any other time, just say the word.”
“I don’t,” she whispered. “I just don’t want to...let you down. Now or...afterward.”
“You won’t. You couldn’t,” he assured her, his voice husky as he cupped her face in his hands, kissing her lightly on the mouth and the tip of her nose. His smile was sultry. “Did it occur to you that maybe I did all this as much for me as for you? I meant it when I told you I never believed in fairy tales. Please let me believe in tonight.”
Cat hadn’t the power to resist such a heartfelt plea even if she had wanted to. He followed it by pulling her against him and kissing her until she was beyond reason. Using his teeth and mouth, he peeled first one strap from her shoulder, then the other. He smoothed his hands over their rounded curves and down her back, his thumbs dragging the bodice of the nightgown to her waist.
“I did warn you,” he whispered, leaning back slightly to gaze at her breasts.
Cat trembled as he bent his head and touched his tongue to her nipple. It puckered in response, earning a more lengthy caress as he painted warm, wet circles around it before shifting to her other breast and doing the same.
His hands fell to her hips, and once again his thumbs caught in the folds of silk and dragged it down, down, until it was a moonlight-colored puddle at her feet. He helped her step free of it and with a gentle tug pulled her with him down onto the bed. They laughed breathlessly as their combined weight sent them sinking deep into the soft feather mattress.
“Better hold on tight,” Bolt whispered as he rolled on top of her, carefully taking his weight on his knees and his hands, “I could lose you in here.”
Obediently she wound her arms around his neck. “I have no intention of getting lost tonight.”
She smiled at him, her expression expectant, her face bathed in the soft light from all those candles. They had been a very wise investment, Bolt assured himself as her hand moved to his face and caressed his cheek. So had the time he’d spent with the razor.
Her caress was much too mild a touch to suit his suddenly urgent mood, and he had to remind himself of how slow and gentle he had vowed to be with her tonight. It was the very least she deserved. All of it, the candles and champagne and silk nightgown, was less than she deserved. He wanted to give her everything and this was the only way he knew to start.
It wasn’t easy to remember to take his time when her body, a soft, pliant invitation to heaven, was spread so sweetly and so close. It wasn’t a simple task to hold back and scatter kisses along her throat, as he was doing now, when he was already burning to be inside her.
He wanted to soothe and protect and possess her all at the same time. He wanted to bury himself in her so deeply he felt nothing but her all around him. He wanted to drown in her body and fill her
with himself, the only proof he could offer of all the things he was afraid to say.
Straightening his arms, he peered at her with a tenuous half-smile.
“Help me with my shirt,” he whispered, wondering why he’d put the damn thing on in the first place. Because, he remembered, he hadn’t wanted to go barging in on her bath stark naked and offend her virgin sensibilities.
Virgin. The word alone was an effective reminder and he unconsciously lightened his touch on her breasts as she struggled to work his shirt off one arm.
“You’re not a big help,” she grumbled.
“You just need more practice,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to hers briefly. “Try the other arm.”
She was no more efficient with that sleeve, mostly because of the distraction of his persistent mouth and hands. When she’d finally succeeded in tugging it off, she tossed the shirt aside and reached for his belt without being prompted. Excitement filled his chest, locking his breath inside as she unfastened the buckle and snap and lowered the zipper on his jeans.
With his steady hands compensating for her shaky awkwardness, he helped her work them down along with his briefs, relishing the light brush of her fingers and hands on his belly and thighs, hungering for so much more. Kicking the jeans aside, he covered her with his body once again, skin to skin, bone to bone, his strength pressed against her softness.
Sweet heaven, he thought, let me make this right for her.
Cat felt the heat and strength in every inch of him as he pressed his body against hers. So much more strength even than she had imagined, his muscles hard and unyielding under her exploring fingers. And the heat... She drew a deep, shuddering breath. He was hot all over, but especially the rigid part of him that lay heavy against her thigh. It seemed to scorch her flesh with each rocking movement of his hips.
She shifted with the sudden movement of the soft bed, her thighs parting just enough to let him slip between.
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