by Diana Palmer
When the single-engine plane landed and taxied to a stop on the apron, Kenna started running toward it. She didn’t care anymore about her stupid pride or keeping secrets. She loved Regan, and she didn’t care if it showed, she didn’t care who knew it. Nothing mattered now except touching him and holding him, and making sure that he was really alive and not just a figment of her tortured imagination. She was hardly aware of Abbie and Angus behind her, of other people.
Regan and Denny came out of the plane and stood together, watching her run toward them. They looked as wet as she did. Regan’s face had some cuts, and his jacket was torn; Denny was holding his arm. But they were alive.
“Regan!” Kenna cried, sounding like someone returning from hell.
She ran straight to him, hardly seeing Denny or the shocked expression in Regan’s dark eyes as he opened his arms for her.
Her body hit his with the impact of a blow. Her arms reached up to cling as she held him with every ounce of strength in her trembling body. Her eyes closed on a flood of tears. He was safe. He felt warm and solid and she could feel his breath at her ear. He was safe.
His arms contracted hungrily, painfully at her back, bruising her against his big body. His face nuzzled urgently against hers as he sought her mouth and found it. They kissed hungrily, taking each other’s mouths with a hot, wild anguish that took them far away from the drizzle and the curious stares. She clung, feeling him tremble, loving the bruising abandon of his big arms, the devouring pressure of his mouth biting into hers.
She didn’t see Denny hugging his parents, she wasn’t aware of Angus’s hand touching Regan’s back, of Abbie’s loving stare. Her whole being had concentrated itself into showing Regan how glad she was that he was alive. That he was home.
A long, long minute later he lifted his head. His eyes were glittering with an odd wildness as he looked down at her, and he was trembling from head to toe. So was she, but for a different reason altogether, she imagined. She let her arms slide away from him, but she couldn’t drag her eyes from his.
Her fingers touched his face. “You’re hurt,” she whispered on a sob.
“No,” he said in a strangely shaken tone, “it’s just a cut.”
“We were so worried,” Abbie interrupted, taking the opportunity to hug him. “Landing a plane in a cow pasture. That’s a new one.”
“It was hairy for a few minutes.” Denny chuckled, looking from Kenna’s white face to Regan’s darkly flushed one. “But Regan’s combat training came in handy. Uh, Dad, the plane...”
“Damn the plane,” Angus grumbled, shaking Regan’s hand warmly. “We’ll melt down what’s left of it and buy a new one.”
“Thank God we had those life jackets up front with us,” Denny remarked. “We used them to cushion our faces from the impact.”
“Is your arm broken?” Angus asked his youngest son.
“I don’t think so, but we’d both better stop by the emergency room at the hospital and have ourselves checked.” Denny sighed. “We’re both a little banged up.”
“We’ll do that,” Angus agreed. “You’ve got ten days to write a report on this to file with the National Transportation Safety Board.”
“I phoned them before we left to fly down here,” Regan told his father. “They’re mailing me the forms.”
He sounded shaken, but Kenna supposed he had a right to be. She was looking at him with eyes so wide with fear and relief and concern that Abbie had to stifle a telling remark.
“We’d better go,” Angus murmured. “Fellas, you’ll never know how much we appreciate your help,” he began, moving into the throng of airport personnel to express his gratitude.
“Are you all right?” Abbie asked Denny, putting a supporting arm around him.
“I’m fine,” he said with a grin.
Kenna belatedly moved away from Regan to hug Denny. “I’m sorry you were hurt,” she said numbly. “But I’m so glad you’re both alive.”
“I’ll be back in a minute,” Regan said quietly and walked into the office where Angus had gone.
“You gave the show away, you know,” Denny murmured with a wry smile as he looked down at Kenna. “You can’t go around kissing men that way unless you’re pretty involved emotionally, and Regan isn’t stupid.”
She sighed with a weary smile. “Isn’t it a good thing he’s going back to New York?” she asked miserably. “I won’t have him giving me pitying looks.”
“If the way he kissed you just now was pity,” Abbie murmured, “I’m a duck.”
“He didn’t have much choice, since I was doing the kissing,” Kenna said. She brushed the hair away from her eyes. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’d rather have the two of you alive than have my pride intact.”
“Amen.” Abbie grinned. “Come on, let’s get you to the emergency room.”
“The party,” Denny burst out, just remembering.
“I’m sure the guests are having a great time,” Abbie said carelessly. “So will we, when we get there. What a nice anniversary present you are, my darling,” she added, and reached up to kiss him with a smile.
Denny only laughed and kissed her back.
* * *
It was crowded in the Mercedes going home. The emergency room doctor had put an ace bandage around Denny’s sprained wrist and treated the cuts on Regan’s dark face. After which, he had given them both a clean bill of health. Kenna was sandwiched in between the two men, feeling Regan’s hard thigh against her leg and his shoulder brushing hers.
If she’d embarrassed him, it didn’t show. But he didn’t speak, letting Denny tell the harrowing story of the ditching.
It was enough for Kenna to sit beside him. So little a thing to give so much pleasure. She leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes, while the conversation around her buzzed in her ears without making sense.
The house was full of curious people, none of whom Kenna recognized. They came forward as the Coles walked in the door, and Angus briefly explained what had happened.
“Anyway,” he told the guests, “the excitement’s over, and if you’ll excuse us for just a minute while we change clothes, we’ll be right with you. We’ve sure got something to celebrate now!”
And he led the way upstairs. Kenna quickly changed into her evening gown and ran a brush through her short hair. She put on a light coat of pale lipstick and gave thanks all over again that Regan was alive. That both men were, she corrected silently. Well, he knew the truth now, she thought miserably. Everybody knew it.
With a sinking heart, she went back down to join the others. This would surely be the last time she’d see Regan. That would probably be the best thing for both of them. It would be as much of an embarrassment to him as it would be to her, to have everyone know she was wearing her heart on her sleeve for him.
Abbie was standing apart from Angus in the family room, a glass of champagne in her hand.
“Have some, dear,” she said to Kenna, lifting a filled glass from the table. “I poured it for you.”
“Thank you.” She searched the room. “Where’s Denny?”
“On the phone. With Margo,” she added with a grin. “She just called, and he’s regaling her with tales of his bravery. Isn’t it great?”
She laughed. “Oh, yes, it is. I think he’s hooked this time, you know.”
“Well, she’ll be a handful,” Abbie observed. “But I like her well enough, and she is easy on the eyes. And we have the satisfaction of knowing she isn’t after his money. That bothered all of us, before we found out about her background.”
Kenna nodded, staring into her glass. She tended to forget how wealthy the family was. They didn’t flaunt what they had, or act superior to other people.
“That sounded terrible, didn’t it?” Abbie said gruffly, touching Kenna’s arm lightly. “I sou
nd as if I’m immediately suspicious of every woman who looks at my sons. Kenna, no one who saw you with Regan this afternoon could ever accuse you of being a gold digger. Do you know, I’ve never seen people kiss that way—except myself and Angus, years ago. I knew everything you were feeling. And it wasn’t a sudden thirst for money.”
“I knew you didn’t mean me,” Kenna said quietly. She glanced up and looked at Regan, filled with love and gratitude for his safety. As if he sensed that searching stare, he looked up into her eyes. And time seemed to stop around them for a space of seconds until he looked back at his father.
“He thought you were going to marry Denny,” Abbie said abruptly.
“Did he?” She sipped her drink.
“Was he supposed to think that?”
She nodded. “We, uh, thought it might make him jealous.” Tears clouded her eyes. “Wasn’t that funny?” She turned away. “I don’t think I can stand any more tonight. Would you be terribly offended if I said good-night and went to bed?”
“But it’s barely ten o’clock, darling,” Abbie protested gently. “You haven’t danced one dance,” she added, nodding toward the couples moving to the delightful sound of a small combo that had been hired for the occasion.
“I don’t really feel like it.” She put down her half-finished glass of champagne and hugged Abbie impulsively. “I’m glad they’re both safe. See you in the morning, okay?”
“Okay. Sleep well, my dear.”
“You, too. Uh, will you...tell the others?” she asked nervously, dreading a confrontation if she had to do it herself.
Abbie nodded understandingly. “Of course I will. Want some aspirin?”
“No. Just a warm bath and my bed. Are we all going to church in the morning?” she added.
Abbie smiled. “You bet. You can borrow a dress from me if you didn’t bring one.”
She returned the smile. “I did. ’Night.”
She turned and walked quickly out of the room, oblivious to the dark eyes that followed her path with mingled confusion and hunger.
Chapter Ten
Kenna stretched out in the blue bathtub with a sigh, letting the warm water surround her with the delicate lilac scent she’d added to it. It felt so good to let her aching muscles relax.
She lathered and rinsed and arched her back as she trailed water down it to wash the soap away. And that was when she became aware of someone in the room with her.
She opened her eyes and turned her head toward the door. Shock froze her in place for an instant, and Regan took full advantage of it to look down at her soft, pink bareness with dark, possessive eyes.
Apparently, he’d given up on the party, too, because his white frilled shirt was open all the way down the front and all he had on with it was his slacks.
“I’m taking a bath,” Kenna managed in a high-pitched, breathless tone as she tried to decide what to do. The washcloth would hardly be of any use at all, and he was standing next to her towel.
“Yes, I can see that,” he said gently. He smiled at her, the first genuine smile she could remember on his hard face in a long time. “My God, you’re a delight to the eyes.”
She flushed at the compliment and waited there, sitting up, in a flurry of confusion.
“Stand up,” he said quietly. “I’ll dry you.”
He pulled the towel from the rack and she tried to decide between diving under the water or making a run for it.
That indecision must have shown, because he laughed softly. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, darling,” he said, moving closer with the towel raised. “You’re beautiful, and I love looking at you. Now stand up. You can’t stay in there.”
He made it seem so natural. Her own reaction startled her, because she got gracefully to her feet and stepped out onto the bath mat, searching his quiet face with wide, curious eyes.
“You see,” he said quietly, wrapping her in the towel, “there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Nudity is beautiful. It’s the distortions people make of it that bring shame.”
Her eyes searched his face, lingering on the deep cut beside his jaw. She reached up and touched it gently where the antiseptic stopped. “I’d never been so afraid in my life as I was when Abbie told me the plane was lost,” she said involuntarily. Tears sprang to her eyes with remembered terror.
“I could see that for myself, Kenna,” he murmured. He dried her slowly, gently, and tossed the towel aside to swing her up in his big arms. “I can’t tell you how I felt when you ran to me instead of Denny at the airport. My God, I almost cried....”
She buried her face in his throat, feeling the warmth and strength of him like a brand against her bareness. Involuntarily, she pulled his opened shirt aside to press her body against the hair-matted muscle and gasped at the sweet contact.
“I love you,” she breathed, dragging her breasts against him slowly, with an aching hunger. “I love you, and I don’t care if the whole world knows it...!”
“I imagine most of it does, if they saw the way you kissed me at the airport,” he murmured huskily. “Don’t be so aggressive, baby, you’ll make me lose control.”
“I want you to lose control,” she whispered in his ear. “I want you to make love to me. I want to belong to you. I don’t care if all I can ever have is tonight,” she added, clinging, as her voice broke. “I love you...!”
His mouth slid across her cheek and onto her lips, stopping the words, taking possession with a slow, sweet intimacy that made her moan under its expertness.
“Be quiet,” he whispered tenderly. He carried her into the adjoining bedroom and laid her down on the bed. He watched her closely as he drew his shirt off and tossed it onto a nearby chair. His slacks followed, and she averted her eyes as he joined her on the bed.
He turned her face back to his with a slow smile. “I doubt you can see this far, anyway, without your glasses,” he remarked affectionately. “Not that it matters. You’d better get used to looking at me. I don’t think people need to hide lovemaking in the darkness, like a guilty secret.”
“It isn’t that,” she said breathlessly. “It’s just that it’s new territory for me.”
“For me, too.” He sighed, and looked down the length of her with a long, possessive appraisal. “You’re going to be my first virgin.”
That was shocking, and the look on her face told him so.
“Jessica had been married before,” he said quietly. “And before we go any further, I want you to understand something. She was a part of my life that no longer exists. I loved her. But she’s dead and I’m not and life goes on.” He touched her face with a lightly caressing movement of his fingers, and his eyes glowed with some deep emotion. “You don’t know beans about taking precautions, do you?” he asked suddenly, and grinned at the flaming blush on her face. “Never mind. If you get pregnant, it won’t be the end of the world.”
Her face was deep red, but she didn’t look away. “You won’t have to feel guilty about it....”
“Don’t be absurd,” he interrupted. He ran his hand down her body and watched her tremble with reaction. “We’re going to be very good together. I knew that the day I walked into Denny’s office for the first time and sparks flew between us. I fought you hard, honey. I was even willing to throw you at Denny’s innocent head to save myself. But it all misfired.” His face clouded. “When you came in here this morning and told me he’d proposed, I think I went a little crazy. It was all I could do not to throw a punch at him when we left for the airport. I gave him hell all day, and he just sat there and grinned at me. When you came flying into my arms at the airport, I began to understand what was going on.”
She arched close to him, gasping as she felt the impact of his skin against every inch of hers. She nuzzled her face into his throat and let him feel the trembling of her body.
&nb
sp; “I didn’t have any pride left by then,” she whispered shakily. “I was scared silly. I still am.”
“Is that why you’re trembling?” he murmured wickedly. He let his hands run down her back to press her even closer. “It’s contagious, too,” he added as his own body began to answer that wild shudder.
“I won’t ask you for anything,” she whispered. “I...I have to be independent.”
He folded her close and kissed her flushed face, light, tender kisses that belied the hunger she could feel growing in his big, taut body.
“You can be independent to a certain point,” he agreed. “But I’ll want you with me when I travel. I don’t want to spend nights away from you.”
She found it increasingly hard to think as his hands began to move in strange, sweet patterns on her body, exploring her with an expertise that was at once embarrassing and wildly sensuous.
“You...you want us to be together more than just...on weekends?” she asked, tingling all over at the thought of being with him every night. Even if it lasted for only a few weeks, it would be all of heaven.
“Um-hmmm,” he agreed, bending his head to drag his lips over her breasts, lingering on the taut peaks until she moaned wildly.
“For how long, though?” she managed. Her body was getting out of control, going its own way with a reckless abandon that startled her.
“Oh, fifty years or so,” he murmured against her warm, flat stomach. “Maybe a few more than that....”
“Fifty years?” she burst out.
He lifted his head and arched an eyebrow at her. “Well, that’s a pretty conservative guess, of course,” he told her. “What with all these damned wonder drugs... Will you lie down and stop interrupting me? I thought you wanted to make love.”
“I do...but...?”
“It’s going to be love, too, Kenna,” he said, and all the humor was gone out of his face, leaving it quiet and tender. He moved over her, resting his weight on his forearms to study her face while he shifted his warm, abrasive chest across her softness and smiled shamelessly at her helpless response. “It’s going to be the sweetest, wildest expression of love you’ve ever imagined.”