by Diana Palmer
She wondered if it was his jealousy of her boss, or frustration. Calhoun had intrigued her by what he’d said about the way Justin would react if she made advances. She wanted to find out herself.
But thinking about it and doing it were entirely different things. Sitting there, looking at the taciturn, stern man across from her, she couldn’t really imagine going over to him and sitting in his lap. It would have been lovely, though, to feel welcome if she reached out to him.
She colored delicately from her own thoughts and put her coffee cup down. “What about a car for me?” she asked.
“I forgot,” he murmured. “We’ll go tomorrow.”
“All right.”
He ignored the fresh apple pie in a saucer beside him and finished his coffee. “I got a new movie in the mail today,” he remarked. “A black-and-white war movie, made in the early forties. I thought I might watch it.”
“You’ll enjoy that, I know.”
He eyed her warily. “You could watch it with me. If you wanted to,” he added carelessly, so she wouldn’t know how badly he wanted her to.
But she sensed it. She smiled. “If I wouldn’t be in your way, I’d like to. I like war movies.”
“Do you?” He smiled slowly. “How about science-fiction?”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh, yes!”
He actually laughed. “I’ve got quite a collection of old ones, and a good many new releases.”
“All we need now is some popcorn,” she remarked.
“Maria!” he called.
The housekeeper came to the doorway. “Sí, Señor Justin?”
He threw a request at her in rapid-fire Spanish, and Maria grinned and answered in kind. She laughed, made another remark, which caused Justin’s cheeks to go a ruddy shade, and went back to the kitchen with a wink in Shelby’s direction.
“What did she say?” Shelby asked, because her Spanish was sketchy at best and she didn’t have Justin’s facility for languages.
“That she’d make the popcorn and bring it in,” he replied shortly. “Well, come on, if you’re coming.”
He got up and went out of the room, leaving her to follow.
The living room was cozy with only the end table lamp on. Shelby curled up on the sofa, barefooted, with the bowl of popcorn between herself and Justin. Maria stuck her head in long enough to say that she and Lopez were going to her sister’s for the evening, and then the house was quiet except for the loud excitement of bombs going off and machine-gun fire as the Allies and the Axis fought it out all over again on the screen.
When they got down to the inevitable unpopped kernels in the bottom of the bowl, Justin moved it and took off his boots before he lit a cigarette, propping his long legs on the coffee table. As the movie ran on, Shelby found herself moving helplessly closer to him. Her hand slid hesitantly across to his free one, where it lay on the sofa. She started to touch it and then stopped, shy and uncertain.
He glimpsed the movement and turned his head. “Do you have to have permission to touch me, Shelby?” he asked, his tone deep and slow and gentle.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “Do I?”
“No.” He watched her with patient amusement until she moved her hand toward his again and touched it, tingling at the warm strength of his fingers as they wound through hers and contracted.
She smiled shyly and turned her attention back to the movie again. She didn’t see it or hear it, though, because Justin’s thumb was rubbing gently against her moist palm. She felt the movement like a brand, burning her blood, making her hungry. Her lips parted as she remembered the last time they’d been on this sofa together, and what they’d done. She remembered the leather cool against her back, the weight of Justin’s body over hers in an intimacy that could still color her cheeks scarlet.
“Do you like mysteries?” she asked, for something to say during a lull in the battle scene.
“Sure,” he said easily. “I’ve got a few Hitchcock thrillers, and a copy of Arsenic and Old Lace with Cary Grant.”
“I love that one,” she mused. “I laughed myself sick the first time I saw it.”
“How about John Wayne Westerns?” he asked with a sly glance.
She laughed. “I’ve seen Hondo so many times, I can even growl along with the character’s dog.”
“So have I.” He studied her for a long moment, admiring the way she looked in the red-and-white dress, liking the length of her dark hair. “We always did have a lot in common, Shelby. Especially guitar.” He rubbed his thumb over the tips of her fingers. “Do you ever play?”
She shook her head. “Not anymore. I…lost the taste for it.”
“So did I,” he confessed, because after they’d broken it off, he couldn’t bear the memories the guitar brought back. “Maybe we could practice together again sometime.”
“That would be nice.” She smiled at him. He smiled back. And the television set seemed a long way off as the smiles faded and the look became long and intensely arousing.
His fingers contracted roughly on hers and he drew in a steadying breath. “Come here, sweetheart,” he said softly.
She tingled all over at the way he said the endearment, because he hardly ever used one at all. He made her feel young and vulnerable. She slid closer with subdued eagerness and curled up against him with her head going to rest naturally on his hard shoulder.
“Don’t go to sleep,” he murmured drily.
“I’m not sleepy,” she said with a sigh. She smiled and nuzzled her cheek closer. “You smell spicy.”
“You smell like a gardenia,” he murmured. “It’s a scent I never connected with anyone but you.”
“It’s the perfume I used,” she said.
He took his hand away from hers and paused to put out his cigarette. Then he lifted her and turned her across him so that she was lying in his lap with her head on his chest.
“If you’d rather watch something else, I don’t mind,” he said softly, knowing full well that the movie was the last thing on both their minds.
She couldn’t have cared less what was on the screen, because all she’d seen since the beginning of the movie was Justin’s hard profile. But she didn’t say that.
“This is fine,” she assured him.
“Okay.”
He smoothed her long hair, holding her slender hand to his broad chest while he tried to pretend an interest in the movie. He was aware of Shelby now, of the scent of her, of the softness of her breasts pressed against his hard chest, of her warm hand touching him.
Her caressing fingers made his heartbeat quicken. He felt the first stirrings of desire in his powerful body and when he looked down and saw the hunger echoing in her soft eyes, he lost all efforts at pretence. Unhurriedly, he unsnapped the pearly buttons of his shirt and slowly drew Shelby’s hand against thick hair and hard, warm muscle, coaxing her to touch him. While her fingers worked on his body, his mouth began to trace patterns on her forehead, her closed eyelids, her nose, her cheeks, her chin and throat.
She felt her breathing quicken as he drew her closer. His nose brushed against hers. His mouth began to search for her lips, and when he found them, the touch was explosive.
She heard his breath sigh out heavily as his mouth became demanding, intimate. His fingers slid into the thick fall of hair at her nape and arched her throat so that her mouth pushed against his, answering his hungry ardor.
Her heart went wild. Her quick, unsteady breathing suddenly matched his. She dug her nails helplessly into his hard chest, and he groaned against her lips.
“Sorry,” she faltered.
He took her lower lip between his teeth and traced it with his tongue. “I liked it,” he whispered, and his mouth opened hers, very slowly, while he stretched his length alongside hers. He sighed, and she felt the touch of his b
ody from head to toe while the kiss grew warmer and slower and more intense. “Kiss me hard, Shelby,” he breathed huskily.
She reached up, her inhibitions wearing away under the deep caresses. Her fingers slid into his thick, black hair and savored its coolness as her mouth began to answer his.
The movie blared away, the battle scenes loud in the stillness, but neither of them heard. The kisses grew longer, drugging, aching as Justin’s hands worked at buttons and snaps. Shelby felt his bare chest against her breasts without a protest. It was delicious, the touch of skin against skin, just as it had been a few nights earlier. But this time, the old fears were greatly diminished, because now she knew that what he did wasn’t going to hurt her. She knew how gentle he could be, how patient.
She felt his hands sliding the dress away, tenderly smoothing it down her long, trembling limbs. She caught her breath and in the dim light of the lamp, he smiled at her softly.
“It’s all right,” he whispered. “I won’t go too fast. You can still stop me if you want to.”
That gave her back the choice and made everything all right. She began to relax, letting her hands slide hungrily over his hard, hair-roughened muscles. It was heaven to touch him this way, to be given the freedom to learn him with her hands. She looked up into his dark eyes with the discoveries lying vulnerable in her soft eyes, and he smiled down at her.
“Oh, Justin,” she whispered huskily. “It’s so sweet!”
He bent and lowered his mouth onto hers, feeling the words sigh against his lips. He slid his hands gently over her, feeling the ripple of her skin under them. She was like satin to the touch, and he’d gone hungry for what seemed forever.
In the back of his mind, he knew there was no chance that he was going to be able to stop, but she didn’t seem to be worried about that. She pulled him down to her and her mouth was suddenly as ardent as his, as uninhibited.
Still kissing her, he managed to get out of his own clothes, and then she was against him, trembling, while he slowed his pace and began to arouse her all over again with exquisite patience until he felt the passion shaking her slender body.
“Now,” he whispered when she was crying with her need. He eased down, turning her face up to his with a caressing hand. “No. Don’t turn away. I want to see.”
She colored feverishly, but she looked up at him the instant his body took possession of hers.
His lips parted. It was the most profound experience of his life. All the long years of loving her, needing her, and it was finally going to happen. She was his. There were no more barriers. He felt her accept him totally and his breath caught.
She stiffened just a little at the newness, the stark intimacy, but he slowed and hesitated.
“It’s all right,” he whispered tenderly, and bent to kiss her, coaxing her to relax, to let it happen. “Yes. Like that.” He laughed jerkily at the ease of it, at the exquisite sense of oneness. “Oh, Shelby!”
Her face was bloodred, but she didn’t look away. His face was taut with victory, his eyes glittering blackly with it. She reached up, her trembling hands going to his cheeks to bring his head down so that she could reach his mouth.
“Love…me,” she whispered, her voice breaking as he moved and she felt the first sweet piercing pleasure. “Justin…love me!”
The words broke his control. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, much less what he was feeling. He went under in a wave of white heat, crying out as the force of the pleasure took his restraint and left him helpless in the drive for fulfillment.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Shelby knew that she should be frightened by his lack of control. But his movements were causing a kind of silvery tension that made her body sing with pleasure. Ecstasy was just out of her reach, and she stretched toward it with her last thread of strength just as Justin caught her hips and pulled.
She felt the world go spinning down under her, and she cried out his name again and again and again…
He laughed. She felt his lips at her temples, on her cheeks, her mouth, in kisses that were as tender as they were comforting.
“The first time,” he breathed, laughing again as his mouth covered hers, trembling. “My God, the first time!”
She opened her eyes, still shaking from the sudden descent from a kind of pleasure she’d never dreamed existed. She gazed up at him, fascinated by the way he looked. He seemed years younger. His hair was damp, his face sweaty, his eyes glittering with exultant pleasure. He was shuddering, his body heavy over hers, damp.
“Justin?” she whispered, disoriented.
“Are you all right, sweetheart?” he asked softly. “I didn’t hurt you?”
“No.” She blushed and lowered her eyes to the pulse in his throat.
“Look at me, you coward.”
She forced her gaze up to his, and he bent and brushed his mouth over her closed eyes.
“I…I never realized…” She couldn’t find the words. She clung to him, hiding her face against his damp throat.
He turned, holding her warmly against him on the long leather sofa, sighing with exquisite pleasure at the way she held him. “So many lonely nights, Shelby,” he whispered. “So many dreams. But even the dreams weren’t this sweet.” He pulled her closer. “Kiss me, honey.”
She lifted her face to his, obediently putting her swollen lips against his. He trembled and eased her gently onto her back, so that they were completely joined. He looked into her eyes with a dark, soft question in his. She didn’t answer him. She lifted her body against him, and he saw the words in her eyes. He bent, sighing unsteadily, and his mouth opened over her parted lips. He moved down, and she clung, and the world went again into shared oblivion.
He carried her upstairs a long time later, cradling her in his arms like the most precious kind of treasure. He put her into his bed and climbed in beside her, turning off the lights. He curled her against his tired body and sighed with haunted pleasure. She was asleep only seconds before he was.
Shelby felt a kiss brush her lips. “Justin,” she whispered softly and opened her eyes.
He was sitting on the bed beside her, dressed in jeans and a chambray shirt, smiling. “I have to go to work,” he whispered.
“No,” she moaned, reaching up.
He eased the covers away and brought her across him, touching her soft breasts with exquisite tenderness while he kissed her. “We made love,” he whispered.
“Several times,” she whispered back, and then spoiled her new image by flushing furiously.
He nibbled her lips. “I didn’t use anything,” he said quietly, searching her eyes.
The blush got worse. “Neither did I.”
He touched her lips with one lean finger. “I know. Is it going to matter if you get pregnant?” he whispered.
“No,” she moaned. “I want a child with you.”
He caught his breath and bent to kiss her with aching tenderness, pleased beyond words at the way she said it, at the need he felt in himself, in her. “Did you sleep?”
“I’m still asleep,” she whispered at his lips. “I dreamed it all, and I don’t want to wake up.”
“It wasn’t a dream.” He kissed her. “Have I hurt you?”
“Oh, no,” she whispered quickly. “Not at all!”
His dark eyes sketched her face adoringly. “You’ll sleep with me from now on,” he said. “No more walls, no more looking back. We start here, now, together.”
“Yes,” she whispered, sighing, her heart in her eyes. “Don’t go to work.”
“I have to. So do you.” He glowered down at her. “But no more rides with the boss, got that?”
“I’ll call you. I promise.” She reached up and kissed his cheek. “You can’t possibly be jealous after last night.”
His lean hand smoothed her breast. “D
on’t kid yourself,” he said softly. “I’ll be ten times as possessive now that I’ve made love to you. You’re mine.”
“I always have been, Justin,” she said quietly, wondering at the way he was looking at her, at the heat of possession in his black eyes. Surely he was sure of her now?
He searched her eyes and then let his gaze run hungrily over her slender body. “Exquisite,” he breathed. “All of you. I’ve never felt anything half as profound in my life as what I felt with you. I feel…whole.”
Her heart skipped a beat, because that was how she felt. But she loved him, and he only wanted her. Or was it possible that he was finally beginning to feel something for her?
“I feel that way, too,” she said.
He smiled. “But you were a virgin, honey,” he mused, brushing his mouth over her nose. “I wasn’t.”
She glared at him. “So I noticed.”
That glare made him feel all man and a yard wide. He bent and nipped her mouth with his teeth, softly arousing. “It was a long time ago, and it has nothing to do with you. For the past six years, I haven’t even kissed another woman, and that’s gospel. You don’t have a damned thing to be jealous of.”
She hugged him fiercely, her head against his bare chest. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he replied. He kissed her forehead with breathless tenderness. “I’ve got to go,” he groaned. “I don’t want to, but Calhoun’s going to be out of the office all day, and I have to be there.”
“I know.” She rubbed her cheek against him. “Will you drop me off at work?”
“Of course. What do you fancy for breakfast?”
She looked up at him with the answer sparkling in her eyes. He laughed with pure delight, stood up with her in his arms and tossed her into the center of the bed, watching her scramble under the sheet with indulgent amusement.
“Not now,” he murmured drily at the blatant invitation in her eyes, even through her shyness. “Get dressed before all this stoic control melts.”
“Spoilsport,” she said, sighing.
“I don’t want to overdo it,” he said with sudden seriousness. “You’re still new to this. I don’t want to hurt you.”