'Stop it!' she hissed to the silent room. There were questions within questions, but only one answer, and that was to get out of this house and do it now. It was what she'd have to do eventually. Better to do it on her own than to wait until David told her to leave. Jamie was at home here, now. He loved David and he loved Emma too. Not more than he loves me, Rachel thought. But to think that way was useless. Jamie's memory of her would fade, with time. It was she who would never forget.
Tears pricked her lashes and she wiped her hand roughly across her eyes.
'Come on, Rachel,' she said to herself, yanking open the dresser drawers, 'get packed and get back to New York, where you belong.'
She scooped her neatly folded clothes from the drawers, tossing them carelessly into the suitcase. Not that they were really hers; David had paid for all these things. For a second she thought of leaving it all behind, but then common sense prevailed. She had nothing else, not even money. There had been a cheque from David waiting for her each week, but the thought of accepting money to care for Jamie had repelled her, and she'd sent the cheques to a children's charity. It had seemed the right thing at the time; now, it struck her as a prideful gesture that had done nothing but guarantee poverty. Well, she thought, the first order of business would have to be a job. Maybe there was an opening at the company where she'd worked before Cassie had... before Jamie. Her typing might be a bit rusty, but…
Rachel spun around as the bedroom door crashed open, slamming loudly against the wall. David, his face cold with rage, stood in the doorway. Her heart thudded crazily and the clothing she'd been packing spilled from her hands.
'Did you ever hear of knocking?' she demanded. 'It's polite...'
'The hell with being polite! What do you think you're doing?'
She swallowed and turned away. Carefully she bent and picked up the things she had dropped. Don't let him intimidate you...
'What does it look as if I'm doing?' she said coldly. 'I'm leaving here.'
He kicked the door and it banged shut behind him, the sound rolling like a clap of thunder through the silent house.
'Leaving here?' he repeated, twisting the phrase until it sounded like an obscenity.
'Yes,' she said, not looking at him. 'I thought it was time.'
'Did you?'
She knew it was not a question, but she ignored it as a statement. 'Yes. I had to leave, sooner or later,' she said, concentrating all her energies on the suitcase, folding and refolding garments as if they were important to her. 'That was our agreement.'
'Our agreement was that you'd stay as long as I needed you.'
'I was supposed to stay as long as Jamie needed me,' she said carefully. 'And I did. But he... he doesn't need me any more. He's comfortable with you and Emma and...'
'A few weeks ago you were begging me to let you stay. You didn't want to think about leaving the boy, you said.'
His voice was cold and mocking. Rachel looked up at him. He was leaning back against the closed door, arms folded across his chest, staring at her. His face was a blank mask that told her nothing. Her eyes met his and then skittered away.
'There's no sense in prolonging it,' she said finally. 'Sooner or later...'
'You already said that.'
'It's the truth. I...'
'You decided this moment was the best time to leave?'
She drew her eyes from his and looked back at the suitcase. 'If that's how you want to see it, yes,' she said.
David's lips drew back from his teeth in a smile. 'Is there another way to see it? You decided to take the easy way...'
Rachel's head snapped up. 'The easy way? Do you really think that leaving Jamie is easy?'
David shrugged his shoulders. 'Running away is always easy.'
'You know damned well I'm not running! I just... I don't see any point in prolonging this. I have to go back to the real world eventually.'
He nodded as if she'd just announced a great truth. 'Ah, yes,' he said, every word icily sarcastic, 'you have to return to the real world. How foolish of me to have thought you could ever forget the Golden Rooster. Would you like me to help you get your old job back, Rachel?'
'I'm not going back to the Rooster.'
It was as if she hadn't spoken. 'Let's see—you'll need your costume. Well, that's a bit of a problem, isn't it?'
'David...'
'I mean, it's locked up in your old apartment building, and you'll have to pay your back rent before the landlord will give you your things. But we can solve that problem.' He reached into his pocket, a cold smile twisting the corners of his mouth. 'That should take care of things, Rachel,' he said, throwing some money on the bed. 'That ought to make up for the inconvenience of being so far from the bright lights.'
She looked down at the crumpled banknotes. 'What are you talking about?' she whispered, two spots of crimson riding high on her cheeks.
David shrugged. 'It can't be easy to be stuck out here in the middle of nowhere when you're used to crowds and people.'
Rachel stared at him incredulously. 'You know that's not why I'm leaving,' she said slowly.
'Yeah, well, you know what they say about sisters under the skin. You and Cassie would have similar tastes, wouldn't you?'
'I'm not like Cassie...'
His eyes were ice. 'Aren't you? All you can think of is yourself. The hell with Jamie, the hell with me...
'Damn you, David Griffin! I'm leaving precisely because of how I feel about you and J...' Triumph flashed across his face and Rachel spun away. 'Get out,' she whispered.
'So it's true,' he said softly. 'You're not just running, you're running scared.'
'You can call it whatever you like. I don't care...'
'I told you about running scared, Rachel. I said it was the surest way to draw attention to yourself.'
His voice was soft, almost a caress. She turned to face him, drawing in her breath when she saw the look on his face. She took an unconscious step back.
'I... I looked at the train schedule,' she said, her eyes refusing to meet his. 'If I hurry, I can make one at two o'clock.' She reached blindly towards the dresser and gathered up a handful of clothes. 'I'll pay you back for all this.'
'Why are you running from me, Rachel?'
'I'm not. I told you, it's time for me to go. I...'
'What are you afraid of?'
'Look,' she said quickly, 'this isn't getting us anywhere. I'm not afraid. I simply...'
He took a step towards her. 'Put that down,' he said softly.
She looked at the clothing in her hand and then at him. 'I told you, there's a train to New York at...'
'Put it down, Rachel.'
'I'm almost finished,' she said, taking another backward step. She ran her tongue across her lips as she felt the unyielding surface of the wall press against her shoulders. 'David, please...'
He was so close to her that she could see the pulse beating in the hollow of his throat. His mouth curved upwards in a lazy smile and he reached out and traced a finger across her lips.
'Please, what?' he murmured.
Rachel shut her eyes as he moved closer, his hand closing lightly around her neck. She could feel her pulse beating as rapidly as the wings of a frightened bird. Could he feel it? Did he know what was happening to her? When she spoke, her voice sounded faint to her own ears.
'Please go away,' she whispered.
His thumb stroked gently across her parted lips. What would he do if she turned her mouth towards his questing hand and pressed it to his palm? Rachel swayed as she imagined the heated flesh beneath her lips, the sweet, salty taste of him.
'Please,' she said faintly, but he only smiled.
'No more running,' he said, his voice thick and urgent. He took the garments she was holding from her nerveless fingers. Lingerie fluttered to the floor like bright ribbons falling from a woman's hair.
'David,' she said, 'I beg you...'
'Come to me, Rachel.'
'No,' she said, the word a sigh that
hung in the silence.
There was a wisdom in his eyes that made her tremble. Locking his fingers around her wrist, he drew her towards him. 'Yes,' he said, 'yes, that's right, love. Come to me.'
'Why are you doing this to me?' she whispered.
'I want to make love to you, Rachel. You know that— you've known it all along. It's what you want too.'
'No,' she said again, 'no, David...'
'Yes,' he said in a fierce whisper. 'Put your arms around my neck. Do it, or I'll do it for you.'
Her hands moved up his arms, across his shoulders, and laced behind his neck. She felt him tremble beneath her touch, and a surging power raced through her.
'David,' she whispered, and his arms closed tightly around her.
'David, what?' he asked in a husky whisper. 'Tell me what you want, Rachel.''
'I...I...' She swallowed and shook her head. His eyes were golden discs, the pupils black pools in which she would surely drown. 'I want... I want...'
She swayed in his arms and he pulled her against the hardness of his body, locking her to him in an embrace that made her gasp.
'Tell me you want me,' he whispered.
'I don't...'
But the whispered denial was meaningless. His hands moved up to cup her face, holding her captive for his kiss. The touch of lips scorched her flesh, and she moaned softly as his tongue traced the soft contours of her mouth.
'Tell me you want me the way I want you,' he whispered against her lips, 'tell me you want to feel me inside you.'
Rachel felt as if the world was exploding around her. Desire engulfed her, sweeping everything aside. Her arms tightened around his neck and she pressed her body to his.
'Yes,' she said, and the word was a triumphant song bursting from her throat. 'I want you. I want...'
His mouth covered hers, silencing her words. His kiss was wild and passionate, promising everything a woman could find in a man's arms. Her lips opened to the fevered touch of his tongue and when she was filled to overflowing with the wonderful sweetness of him, his mouth left hers and his lips touched the long column of her throat. Her neck arched as he trailed hot, moist kisses on her flesh, and she cried out when his mouth reached the soft hollow at the base of her neck.
'David,' she sobbed, 'David, yes, yes...'
She caught her breath as she felt his lips touch her breast through her silk blouse. Her hands, as if of themselves, curled into the thick, dark hair at the nape of his neck and pressed him closer to her. He whispered her name as his hands trailed down her back, then he cupped her buttocks and lifted her towards him. Rachel rocked forward, without any awareness of what she was doing, and moved her hips slowly against him. David's breathing became harsh and ragged.
'Rachel,' he said, 'love, I won't be stopped this time. I can't.'
It didn't matter whether the hoarsely uttered words were a promise or a threat. She knew only that they had left reason behind on the way to this moment and that it was too late to go back, for her as well as for him. There was a raging hunger within her heart and body. Where was the honeyed sweetness of desire that she'd read about? What she felt was a need so intense that it was almost pain. David's mouth and hands were teaching her secrets that burned her flesh; his whispers were promises that made her reckless with longing.
'I don't want you to stop,' she whispered. 'Make love to me, David—please!'
His soft laughter was the sound of conquest. Eagerly he swung her up into his arms and she gloried in the strength of his embrace, sighing when his fingers spread across her breast and cupped it, branding her as his. Beneath his palm, her heart was racing out of control. She clung tightly to his neck as he crossed the room with her and laid her gently on the bed. Sunlight filtered through the net curtains, filling the room with shifting shadows and reflections, making it seem almost like an underwater cavern. The bed felt as liquid as the sea— and why not? she thought crazily, why not, when she felt as if she were flying across the ocean, bound to her passions like a whalerman bound to a whale that was pulling him over the sea on a Nantucket sleigh-ride that might never end.
Her eyes opened and fastened on David as he stood beside the bed. She watched as he unbuttoned his shirt, letting the soft wool slip from his bronzed shoulders. His arms were muscled and golden in the soft sunlight; there was dark hair on his chest, tapering to a narrow V as it dipped beneath his denim jeans. Rachel's glance flickered lower; the fabric was pulled taut across his groin, and a quiver of apprehension danced in her throat.
'David,' she whispered, 'David, I...'
He knelt beside her and took her in his arms. 'Yes,' he said roughly, 'say my name, say it that way, Rachel, as if it was the only thing that mattered in the world.'
His hands were under her blouse, hot against her back, holding her to him so closely that her breasts flattened against his chest. She was drowning in sensation, drowning in passion, and all the while the yearning ache grew within her thighs and belly. His fingers fumbled at her blouse. She watched his face as the buttons opened to him, her breath quickening as she saw the darkening of his eyes, his excitement fuelling her own. The silk blouse fell open and he bent towards her, kissing her through the lace bra.
'Beautiful,' he said in a thick whisper. 'My beautiful Rachel...'
His mouth closed on her breast. She cried out at the sensation, but it wasn't enough. She wanted to feel his moist tongue against her bare flesh and she reached blindly for the front closure of the bra—but David's hands were there before her. The lacy fabric fell away from her, baring her breasts to his mouth and to his hands. He reached towards hef and a flush rose on her cheeks. Rachel turned her head to one side, but David's hand cupped her chin and he brought her face towards him.
'Watch me, Rachel,' he said. 'Watch me pleasure you.'
He brushed his lips across hers and then bent slowly to her breast, kissing the rounded flesh gently, then touching his tongue lightly to the engorged tip. Heat flared within her.
'David...' She moaned his name softly as his mouth closed around her. Waves of sensation flooded through her and her body arched upwards towards him, seeking him blindly.
'Do you like that?' he whispered. That's only the beginning, love. There's more—so much more, so much...'
Rachel reached up to him and linked her hands behind his head, bringing his face down to hers, her mouth opening to receive his kiss. Every part of her was on fire. Nothing was enough—not his hands on her breasts, not his mouth on hers, not the feel of his hair-roughened chest against her nipples. Their dampened bodies were pressed tightly together, but she needed something more, something that would quell the flames blazing within her. She had never imagined anything could feel like this. People talked about sex, and she had read her share of books, seen her share of films, but ... Not sex, she thought suddenly. Love. Oh God, oh yes, oh yes, she loved him, she loved David, she.
Her zipper hissed in the stillness. 'David,' she whispered, wanting to tell him, but he smiled and put his finger across her mouth.
'Don't be afraid, sweetheart,' he said softly.
'It's not that,' she said. 'I'm not afraid. I'm...oh, David, David!'
His hands were everywhere, touching her shadowed places, teaching her mysteries she had waited a lifetime to learn. Whatever she had wanted to tell him was forgotten. What did words matter, when their bodies spoke so eloquently?
'Rachel,' he said thickly, and then he was gone. Her eyes fluttered open.
'David?' she whispered. 'Don't leave me...'
'I won't, love,' he murmured. 'I'm right here.'
He was standing beside the bed. She watched as he stripped off his jeans and shorts. His body—that mysterious male body she had never seen—was beautiful. She had seen statues, but no sculptor, not even Michelangelo, could ever bring this warmth and passion to marble. David was hard angles and flat planes and taut muscle. Her arms ached to hold him to her and she reached up to him.
'Come to me, David,' she whispered.
&nbs
p; His eyes were licks of golden flame as he bent over her. She sighed as he covered her with his body. There was a sudden, shivering pain and Rachel drew in her breath.
'Rachel,' he groaned^ 'oh, love, I should have known! 1 should have asked...'
'Don't talk,' she whispered. 'Please, not now. Make love to me.'
Still he hesitated. Rachel sighed and began to move slowly beneath him, learning instinctively what women have always known, and then there was no time for talking, no time for thinking. Like a fragile shell on a distant beach, she was caught in a wave and swept far out to sea. The foaming water drew her under until finally, when life and death seemed to have joined together in one fierce moment, the wave scooped her up again and tossed her on the shore. She lay trembling in David's arms, her heart thudding in time with his, her hair lying wildly on the pillow in damp tangles.
He smiled at her and brushed his lips across hers. 'Are you all right?' he whispered.
Rachel nodded. 'I'm wonderful,' she sighed.
He laughed softly. 'You certainly are,' he said, and she blushed.
'You know what I mean, David. That was...it was wonderful!'
He smiled and stroked a damp curl back from her forehead. 'Why didn't you tell me you were a virgin?'
She laughed. 'It's not exactly dinnertime conversation, David! When was I supposed to have told you? Besides, what does it matter?'
'I wouldn't have... I'd have gone slower, for one thing.'
Rachel sighed. 'Any slower and I'd have died,' she said, then she blushed. 'Am I terrible for talking this way?'
David tweaked the tip of her nose. 'Stop fishing for compliments,' he said. 'I already told you you were wonderful.'
'Are you sure? I never... well, I never thought people joked afterwards. I thought it was all, you know, solemn and serious...'
'That's one illusion shattered,' he teased. 'What else?'
'Well, 1... I never knew... I mean, I thought it took women a long time until they felt the way I feel...'
He smiled and ran his hand along her cheek. 'I'm glad it was good for you , Rachel.'
'I... I've never been so happy. In fact...' She drew a deep breath and rolled towards him, her body pressed against him. 'David...'
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