Paladin's Woman tp-2

by Beverly Barton

  "What if—if—"

  He moved his hand down her back to her waist, hauling her up against him. The sound of her indrawn breath when her soft body met his hard arousal fueled his hunger, increasing his determination to give this woman—his woman—unforgettable pleasure. "We're going to take things slow, Red. Slow and easy. I'm going to touch you and you're going to touch me, and we're going to make each other burn."

  Gerald had always been in a hurry to find a quick release, never caring whether or not he gave her any pleasure. "But you're already aroused. You won't want to wait."

  "That's where you're wrong." He touched her lips with his, but didn't actually kiss her. She sighed into his mouth. He drew in her sweet breath, running the tip of his tongue across her bottom lip. "I've never wanted anything the way I want you. Making love is best when it's not rushed, when you take your time and savor every delicious moment. Especially the first time."

  "No one has ever made love to me before."

  Gut-wrenching pain twisted his insides. He vowed that he would never hurt her, no matter how much he had to suffer. He would give Addy what no man had ever given her—ecstasy. "I'm going to make love to you, Red. And you're going to make love to me."

  "But, Nick, I don't know how. What if—"

  He kissed her, a gentle yet thorough kiss. Withdrawing his mouth from hers, he said, "Sometimes it's better not to talk so much. Stop talking, stop thinking and start feeling."

  He walked her, backwards, toward the bed. His big hand never left her waist, his arousal stayed pressed against her belly and his lips kept brushing hers as the two of them moved slowly, inch by inch, making their way across the room.

  Nick leaned his cane against the nightstand, then took Addy by the shoulders, carefully sliding her kimono down her arms and off her body. He tossed it to the floor. "I love the way your body is made, Red. All long and lean and sexy."

  "I'm not—" She saw the look in his eyes, that look that said she'd better not disagree with him. "I've never thought of myself as sexy."

  "You're the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He placed his hands on her upper arms, moving his fingers in gentle caresses downward, stopping at her fingertips. Slipping his fingers between hers, he stroked her.

  She leaned into him, sighing at the unexpected pleasure his seemingly innocent touch created within her. "Nick?"

  He ran his hands up and over her back, pausing briefly before cupping her buttocks. "You've got such a tiny waist and such a firm, tempting little butt."

  He'd told her to stop talking and start feeling, but he hadn't stopped talking, and every word he said was driving her crazy. Did he know what he was doing to her? Was he aware of how arousing his words were?

  Lowering his head, Nick took one tight, little nipple into his mouth while he continued kneading her derriere. Addy moaned when spirals of heated sensation darted outward and downward, pulling on her femininity, plucking the strings of a heretofore unknown passion. Instinctively, she raised her leg, brushing it against his, rubbing him intimately. He slipped his hand beneath her chemise, touching her stomach, then easing around to cup her naked behind.

  For one heart-stopping moment, Nick thought he was going to lose it. All he could think about was ramming himself into her, seeking and finding the sheathing heat of her body, emptying himself and gaining relief for his unbearable ache. "I want to see you, all of you."

  When he tugged her chemise upward, Addy placed her hands over his, momentarily halting him. "You'll think I'm skinny, that my breasts are too small, that my freckles are ugly."

  "Damn!" Nick spit out.

  Addy pulled away from him. He reached out, jerking her to him, taking her mouth with bruising force as he thrust his tongue inside her welcoming warmth. Heaven. That's what it was to be inside her. Sheer heaven. She didn't resist the fury of his kiss or the roughness of his hands as they skimmed her body, finally pulling her chemise up and over her head.

  With his lips still touching hers, Nick gave her a gentle shove backward, tumbling her onto the bed. He came down with her, half on top of her, half beside her. "I'm not your ex-husband, Red. I'm no fool. I know that having a woman like you to care for me is worth ten times whatever money your daddy has in the bank."

  Tears filled her eyes. She wiped them away with the tips of her fingers. She lay there totally naked, Nick's big, aroused body partially covering her. "Look at me, Nick, and tell me what you see. And, please, don't—don't pretend."

  Raising himself on one elbow, he gazed down at her, then swallowed hard. Addy McConnell was as sleek and lean as the most prized thoroughbred. Her arms and legs were long and covered with a light dusting of copper freckles. Her hips flared slightly away from her minuscule waist. Her breasts were small, but high and firm, topped with golden coral nipples. And the hair between her legs was as fiery red as the curls framing her pretty face. "You're beautiful, Addy. I've never seen anything more beautiful."

  "Oh, Nick." She reached out, opening her arms and her heart. She believed he meant what he said. He really did think she was beautiful.

  "And your freckles are gorgeous. As a matter of fact, I've had more than one fantasy about kissing every freckle on your body." He kissed each one on her face. "You've got a lot of freckles, Addy. It could take me hours to taste all of them."

  She didn't know how long it took Nick to accomplish the task. Eventually she lost track of time, giving herself over completely to the hedonistic upheaval going on in her body. She'd never known that a man could give so freely, titillating a woman with his hands and mouth as if he wanted nothing more than to please her.

  Addy's breasts became so sensitized that even Nick's breath on them sent chills of agonized longing through her. When he took her into his mouth, she cried out, writhing beneath him, pushing herself upward, begging for relief from the excruciating pressure building in the core of her body. While he continued to suckle her, he slipped his hand between her thighs. She opened for him. He slid two fingers inside her, testing her. She bucked upward, crying and groaning, pleading with him.

  "Easy, Red, easy. I'm going to take good care of you." His fingers sought and found the pleasure point hidden within her.

  With a steady, gentle pressure, he massaged her, all the while his mouth tugged greedily on one of her breasts and his thumb and forefinger pinched at her other puckering nipple. He could feel her body tightening. "That's it, Red, let it happen. Don't hold back. Give in to what you're feeling." When the first spasm hit her, Nick increased the speed and pressure of his fingers, bringing her to the pinnacle, intensifying her pleasure. She screamed, her voice a ragged, tormented cry of release. He soothed her trembling body, kissing her closed eyelids, her nose, her open mouth.

  When her heartbeat slowed and she was able to breath again, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. "I've never … you made me—oh, Nick."

  He took her mouth as he longed to take her body. But it was too soon. She wasn't ready, despite the fact that he'd helped her achieve her first orgasm. He couldn't bury himself deep inside and take his own pleasure. That was not the way to prove himself to Addy. But, dammit all, he had to take just a little something for himself, enough to keep him from going totally insane.

  Lifting himself up, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his jeans. Beneath, he wore a pair of black briefs. Hesitating, he considered the consequences if he went ahead and stripped naked, if he disregarded the inner voice that warned him against such foolishness. With one quick jerk, he pulled the briefs down and off, then turned back to Addy.

  She could see him in the moonlight, his big, bronze body poised over her. With more passion than knowledge, she touched him, circling his manhood with her fingers. He throbbed beneath her touch as she moved her hand up and down caressingly.

  "Red, honey, you're going to have to stop that … sometime in the next few hours." His voice held a trace of humor.

  "You like my touch?"

  "Did you like mine?"

  "You know I did
."

  He pulled away from her. She stared at him, puzzled. "If you don't stop, I'll lose it."

  "I want you to lose it—inside me."

  He thought he'd die. She was asking him to make love to her, completely, thoroughly. "Tonight's for you, Red. For your pleasure. If I take you the way you're asking, then I won't have proven anything to you."

  She had to consider what he'd said for several minutes before she realized what he meant; then she smiled. "You've already proven everything you need to prove to me."

  "I've got to prove something to myself." He kissed her savagely, then eased his tongue over her chin, down her throat and across her breasts to her stomach.

  "Nick?" She felt the tremors of excitement building again, growing stronger with each swipe of his talented tongue.

  "There's so many things I want to do to you, so many ways I want to make love to you." He lifted her hips in his big hands, bringing her body upward so that he could taste her. She tried to pull away. He held fast. "Let me, Red. Please, let me."

  She gave in to his plea, never realizing the earth-shattering rapture that awaited her. She became lost in a fog of sensation where the world centered on Nick's mouth and her pulsating flesh. With uncontrollable convulsions Addy's body took the pleasure Nick gave her, rejoicing in each pounding quake of fulfillment.

  Afterward she clung to him, weeping warm, salty tears of joy. When he pulled away from her, she reached out, grasping at air. He stood, then picked up his jeans and cane.

  "Nick? What are you doing?"

  "I'm going to take a shower, Red. I can't stay. If I do, I'm going to ram myself into you so hard, I'll rip you apart."

  "Don't leave me. Stay. I want—I want us to really make love. I want you to—"

  Nick turned and left the room. Addy lay there feeling satisfied and yet unfulfilled. Why had she ever told Nick that he'd have to prove himself to her? And why was he being so stubborn? The only thing she could figure out was that her father had been right. Nick Romero was falling in love with her and he didn't even know it. No man would put himself through such torment to prove himself worthy of a woman he didn't love.

  Addy heard the shower running. She smiled. With a confidence born of her newly awakened feminine powers, she slipped out of bed and made her way down the hall to the bathroom. The door wasn't locked. Obviously, Nick didn't think she'd follow him. But he was wrong.

  Moving as quietly as she possibly could, Addy crept toward the shower, eased open the glass door and stepped inside.

  "What the hell? Addy?"

  Without saying a word, she bent to her knees in front of him. The tepid water poured down over them. Nick reached out, taking her by her shoulders. "Get up, Red. You don't have to do this."

  "I want to do this," she assured him, and proceeded to prove to him just how much.

  Chapter 9

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  The hazy, muted light of dawn spread across the eastern horizon like distant candlelight seen through gauze curtains. The hum of the Bronco's motor kept time to the dull drone of the four-wheel drive's big tires as they moved over the asphalt roadway. Nick glanced in his rearview mirror. The nondescript brown sedan was still there. He had first noticed the car when they drove through Paint Rock, a wide-place-in-the-road town not too far outside of Huntsville. It was possible that the driver was simply headed in the same direction they were; it was also possible that he was following them.

  Nick heard Addy sigh. Looking down at her head resting against his shoulder, he readjusted his arm that was draped around her. She'd been asleep for the past half hour. She needed rest. Neither of them had slept much last night.

  When he thought about what had happened—and he hadn't been able to think of much else—he could hardly believe it. Not only had he made love to Addy more unselfishly than he'd ever made love to any other woman, but he experienced a kind of satisfaction he'd never known. He'd never felt so much like a man, never felt so strong as when he'd brought Addy to completion. Not once, but twice. Her cries of fulfillment had given him a precious pleasure. But when she had come to him in the shower, showing him how much she trusted him, how much she cared for him, he had been humbled and weakened by her generosity and love.

  The very thought of her hands circling, her tongue tasting, her lips caressing, her mouth taking, hardened his manhood to an uncomfortable rigidity. Tonight… Tonight they would make love completely. He'd bury himself so deep inside her that he'd become a part of her, and then she would truly be his—his woman, in a way no other woman had ever been.

  Just past the outskirts of South Pittsburg, Tennessee, Nick turned the Bronco onto the on-ramp of Interstate 24 and headed straight into the morning sun, which had just appeared, flashing its dazzling golden light like a wealthy woman displaying her array of diamond jewelry. Addy snuggled closer to his side; Nick ran his hand up and down her arm. God, he loved the feel of her. Lean and sleek, yet utterly soft and feminine.

  He glanced in the rearview mirror. The brown sedan exited the on-ramp. Only a cherry-red Pinto separated the other car from the Bronco. Still a coincidence? Nick wondered. Maybe, maybe not. He'd wait and see. Before they went through Chattanooga, he'd have to find out one way or the other.

  He didn't want to bother Addy with any undue worry, but if he had to make a hasty detour to discern the motive of the sedan driver, then he'd have to forewarn her. Although he'd found out just how strong and resilient Addy McConnell was, he knew that she had a breaking point. Everyone did. He wanted to get her to Georgia, to their private sanctuary deep in the mountains, where she would feel safe and secure … where they would have two weeks of undisturbed lovemaking.

  Addy opened her eyes. Sunshine streamed through the Bronco's windows. She shut her eyes tightly, blocking out the blinding light. When she squirmed against Nick, he petted her, his big hand moving up and down her arm. She sighed, breathing in the clean, masculine scent that was Nick Romero—the man she loved.

  Prizing her eyes open a second time, she squinted, then lowered her lids half closed and looked up at Nick, who was totally absorbed in driving. He was a man who concentrated on the task at hand, giving it his complete attention. Last night he had given her his thorough devotion, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt how much she meant to him. Recalling what he'd done to her—for her—sent tingling, reminiscent sensations spiraling through her body. He had made her feel everything, teaching her what a sensuous woman she was, proving to her how wrong Gerald had been about her. Nick made her feel needed … desired … beautiful.

  If she lived to be two hundred, she would never forget going to him, slipping into the shower beside him and loving him as erotically as he had loved her. She had acted purely on instinct, driven by desire, prompted by love.

  When Nick had reached fulfillment, his body had trembled with the force of his satisfaction. And she had gloried in the knowledge that she had given him pleasure. The experience had been raw, primitive, totally physical. The aftermath had been warm and tender and loving. Nick had dried them both, then walked her back to her bedroom and tucked her in, refusing to stay the few remaining hours of the night in her bed. She'd known he didn't trust himself not to make love to her again and again. It was what she'd wanted, but Nick wanted to wait. Tonight … ah, yes … tonight.

  Closing her eyes, Addy slipped her arm around Nick's waist, giving him a gentle hug. "Where are we?"

  Squeezing her arm, he glanced down at her, then returned his concentration to the interstate. "Crossing through the tip of Georgia. We aren't far from Chattanooga."

  She raised up, moving slightly away from him. He removed his arm from around her and placed his hand on the steering wheel. Stretching, Addy yawned. "I didn't sleep very long then?"

  "Less than an hour. You need more rest. You had a busy night last night." His lips curved into a smile as he remembered just what had kept them both so busy. Damn, how he would have liked to pull off the interstate, find a secluded stretch of road and take her hard and fast righ
t there in the Bronco.

  Addy saw him smile and felt a staining warmth in her cheeks. She punched him playfully on the arm. "Not as busy as it should have been." She couldn't believe she'd actually said that. What was happening to her? Loving Nick Romero, that was what was happening to her.

  "Since we got some preliminaries out of the way last night, I'd say we were both ready to get down to some serious lovemaking tonight."

  Addy laughed, the sound light, almost carefree. He'd done that for her, she thought. He was teaching her to enjoy herself, to trust her own instincts and give herself permission to play and have fun.

  He hated the thought of having to tell her about the brown sedan, but he had no choice. They'd be in Chattanooga soon, and he couldn't allow the car to continue following them.

  Noticing the pensive look on his face, Addy wondered what had caused it. "Are you worrying about your Jag? If you are, let me set your mind at rest. It's as safe as in Fort Knox in Daddy's garages along with his collection."

  "Yeah, I'm sure it is."

  "Daddy's still bothered by the fact that he doesn't know where we'll be," she said. "I could tell by the sound of his voice when we talked to him before we left."

  "I'll call Sam every day, and he'll give your father a report."

  "Daddy didn't like it when you suggested that it was best he didn't know too much, that way he couldn't accidentally slip up and tell Dina anything."

  "I explained to Rusty why I felt that way." Nick glanced in the rearview mirror. Damn! He would have to make his move soon. "Dina might tell Brett Windsor, and I don't trust the guy. He might not be top on my list of suspects, but he's definitely still on the list."

  "I think Brett is sweet—in a little-boy sort of way."

  "Red, you don't need a sweet little boy, you need a hot-blooded man."

  She ran the tips of her short, neatly manicured fingernails up the side of his neck, stopping to tease his earlobe. "And that's exactly what I have, isn't it, Mr. Romero?"

  "Damn right." He clutched her knee, squeezing possessively, then slid his hand between her thighs. He wanted to find a way inside her tan slacks, inside her silk panties, to delve into the hot, moist depths of her body. But now wasn't the time or the place. Reluctantly, he returned his hand to the steering wheel.