“Maybe once,” she said wistfully. “Not anymore.”
“Have you changed so much? I don’t think so,” Drew said softly. “You’re still the most beautiful, caring woman I’ve ever known. Maybe you’ve changed, but not in the important ways.”
“You’ve changed, too,” Ann said as she gazed down at him with misty eyes. “You’re so...sensitive.”
“Sensitive?” He growled the word with a mock frown, shaking her lightly, and dispelling as he did their serious mood. “What about virile, masculine, incredibly sexy?”
Ann gave him a slow, daring smile. “You’re that, too, but it’s your—” She flattened a hand and ran it over his stomach, reveling in a sense of power when his muscles contracted. She dipped her hand lower. “Sensitivity that moves me.”
“If it’s sensitivity you want, it’s sensitivity you’ll get,” he assured her as he lifted her and pulled her on top of him, letting her feel just exactly what he meant. “Just to prove what a truly liberated man I am, I’ll let you be on top this time.”
“Your...enlightenment dazzles me,” she murmured, stretching out against him and entangling her legs with his. She touched her finger to the cleft in his chin, then lowered her head and touched her lips to his mouth, lightly at first, a silken caress. Then suddenly, without warning, she thrust her tongue deep inside. She heard Drew’s low groan of sensual surprise, and the sound delighted her and filled her with her own bold confidence.
Her hands grabbed his, holding him still, mimicking his earlier movement. She lingered for a moment at his lips, then slowly, deliberately, she moved downward, sliding against the pulsing heat of his body; downward, her lips skimming across the hardness of his chest, playing briefly at each male nipple; downward, her tongue tracing hot, wet patterns around his navel, teasing and nipping his flesh; downward...
He sucked his breath in sharply as he gasped her name. He tore his hands free from her hold and plunged them into her hair. “Angel...”
She lifted her head, her lips curving into a slow, seductive, thoroughly satisfied smile. “Just to prove what a truly liberated woman I am...”
Ten
“I don’t suppose you’re going to invite me back to the house to spend the night?” Drew asked hopefully as he sat on the ground tying his shoelaces. The first large drops of rain pelting against bare skin had sent them scurrying into their clothes. The wind had picked up, too. It rustled through the leaves, carrying the scent of the rain.
Ann bent down to drop a kiss in his hair. “You suppose right. One step at a time, okay? This has been a very eventful evening for me. I still can’t quite believe it happened. For so many years I’ve had all these negative feelings for you, and now...this.” She shrugged helplessly, finding herself suddenly at a loss. She slipped into her sandals and reached down to fasten them, but Drew’s hand closed over hers. Adeptly, he dealt with the buckles, then slid his hand up her leg, encircling her calf.
“Are you saying you still hate me?” he asked softly.
In spite of herself, she thrilled to his touch along her bare skin. She gazed down at him, letting her eyes reveal the confusion of a thousand different emotions. “I never hated you, Drew, although I tried very hard to convince myself that I did. That was part of the problem, you see. I always felt so guilty, wanting you when you belonged to Aiden.”
“I never belonged to Aiden.” Abruptly his hand dropped from her leg. He got to his feet and stood staring down at her, his eyes deep and intense, as though he expected her to challenge him. “She and I should never have been together. It was always you.”
“But you married her,” Ann said in a voice that was hardly more than a desperate whisper.
“Because I thought I’d lost you forever,” he said in a sudden burst of exasperation. “I explained all that to you and I thought you understood. You left. You ran away. I had no idea where you were, and Aiden—well, Aiden was Aiden. She convinced me the child she carried was mine. I had a responsibility to her. Or so I thought.”
“What does that mean?” Ann asked, frowning.
He hesitated for a moment as if trying to resolve some inner conflict. Finally he mumbled, “Nothing,” then turned away from her for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Ann—can’t we put all that behind us now? Especially after tonight? It was so long ago. You and I still have something very special, and I don’t want to lose it.”
Ann shook her head sadly as she turned to stare at the river. “You can’t expect the past just to disappear because we made love, Drew. What happened ten years ago will always be with us. Tonight hasn’t changed that.”
“And you still haven’t forgiven me, have you?” He ran a weary hand through his hair, then dropped his hand limply to his side. “I don’t know what else I can do.”
She winced at the open bitterness of his words and the helpless frustration that she knew would hurt him most of all. She turned to face him, her hand reaching automatically for his. She brought his fingers to her lips as her eyes searched his face. “You can give me time. Is that asking too much?”
His face immediately softened and his other hand came up and wrapped around the back of her neck, his fingers weaving through the thick curtain of her hair. “No.” His smile was tender. “I’ll give you all the time in the world, Angel. I’ve waited all these years to be with you—sometimes I get a little impatient. Just don’t give up on us.” His tone was light, almost teasing, and Ann knew that he was trying to dispel the dark cloud that had suddenly formed over the evening. She wasn’t sure it could be done quite so easily.
“So we have a few problems. They’re not insurmountable,” he insisted as he pulled her toward him with gentle but firm pressure against her neck. “I won’t let them be. As far as the past is concerned, we can’t change it. We can’t go back. All we can do is accept it.”
They stood holding each other for a long moment in silent affirmation of the special bond between them. That bond had not been severed, even after years of pain and anger and resentment.
A strong gust of wind swept across the water, delivering the rain in its wake. They broke apart, laughing as the drops splattered against their skin and beat with a steady plop against the surface of the river.
“We’ve waited too long,” Ann said, closing one eye as she looked up into the night sky. A raindrop splashed across her nose and she laughed again. There was something exhilarating about the wind and the rain, something primitive and timeless. Like making love with Drew had been, she thought with a catch in her heart. It was emotion at its most basic, as elemental as the rain, and just as cleansing. For one glorious moment she bathed in the sweet, secret joy of it.
“My God, you’re so beautiful,” Drew murmured, gazing down at her in wonder. “So very beautiful.”
She could see rain shimmering in his hair. She ran her fingers through the soft strands, sending the droplets flying. “And you’re getting soaked,” she said, her smile as soft and misty as the night.
He grinned lopsidedly. “So are you. But you can’t expect me to leave when you’re smiling at me like that.”
She widened her eyes. “Like what?”
“Like we just made love and it was as good for you as it was for me. Do you have any idea how much I want you?”
The blatant sensuality of his voice in her ear sent a quiver of delight dancing inside her. She laughed throatily, her hands clasping behind his neck. “You just had me.”
“I want you again,” he murmured against her lips, touching his mouth lightly to hers. His hands slid beneath her T-shirt to caress the warm, satin skin along her spine. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”
She touched his face with her fingertips, feeling the slightly roughened stubble of his beard. She had never before been so stunningly aware of the differences between the two sexes. Everything about Drew was so virile, so boldly and consummately male. And because of that, she was even more attuned to the subtleties of her own femininity.
<
br /> “Sure I can’t change your mind about spending the night?” His hands moved up and down her sides, grazing her breasts. Ann closed her eyes at the sensation. Soon he’d probably have her begging him to stay.
“One step at a time, remember?” She pulled slightly away, twisting from his arms. He held her for a moment, then let her go.
“For now,” he said with a tiny inclination of his head. “I suppose we’d better be on our way before the downpour starts. Will I see you tomorrow?”
“The council meeting is tomorrow night, remember?”
“I hadn’t forgotten. Maybe I should come over beforehand and try a little more persuasion?”
Ann knew that he was kidding, but she didn’t find it funny. Her brows drew together in a scowl. “What happened tonight hasn’t changed my mind about the zoning, Drew. I hope you understand that.”
He let out a deep sigh. “Ann, Ann,” he said, tapping a finger against her chin. “Do you have to take everything so seriously? I was kidding.”
“I know,” she said, drawing slightly away from him. “But I just want everything to be clear between us.”
“I can separate my professional concerns from my personal ones. I hope you can, too.”
She sighed wistfully. “I hope so, too, Drew. But it seems to me in both cases, I stand to lose a great deal more than you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said softly. “But neither of us have to lose. Ann...” He hesitated as he caught her hand, holding it warmly between both of his. “Whatever the outcome of the vote, tonight will always be special to me. Try not to forget that.”
“I’ll try.”
“Good night, Angel.” Their hands clung, and then he was gone, quickly swallowed up by the rain-filled night.
The torrent hit just as Ann reached the edge of her yard. With a shriek of dismay, she splashed across the wet grass and leaped toward the dryness of her porch.
She stood for a moment, gazing out into her front yard, watching the constant hammer of the rain against the canopy of oak leaves. The yard and house were completely dark except for the gaslight at the end of the driveway. It cast an eerie, yellow glow into the shadows of the yard, highlighting the flattened beds of flowers. The mingling scent of roses and honeysuckle and jasmine, vividly stirred by the rain, clung as thick and sweet as honey in the rain-drenched night air. In the distance, she heard Drew’s car engine start up. She turned her head toward the sound as a soft smile touched her lips.
Regrets? She bit her lip in silent contemplation. Not yet, she decided. Perhaps they would come later. Now all she felt was a deep sense of fulfillment. She felt...? She hesitated a moment, frowning. Was it love she felt? Did she love Drew again? Still?
No. The denial was instant if not confident. It wasn’t love. It couldn’t be love.
What then? Lust? She couldn’t deny the powerful physical attraction that pulled her to Drew. Her stomach gave an odd little somersault at the mere thought of him. Her heart missed a few beats at the memory of his touch, his smile. But making love with him was one thing; being in love quite another. That usually required a commitment and trust, and Ann wasn’t at all sure she would ever be capable of either. And yet, even as she dismissed the possibility so abruptly, she felt a small quiver of joy, of anticipation. And that scared her to death.
Love? No. No.
As if in final dismissal of the question, she turned to go inside, slipping out of her wet shoes and kicking them aside. She closed the heavy wooden door behind her and automatically twisted the lock as her other hand sought the light switch. But the room remained in darkness when she flipped the switch. Vainly, she flicked it several more times, then with a muttered oath, groped her way down the hall to the kitchen and her cache of candles and matches.
Three matches later, the wick finally caught. Carefully, she picked up the candle and sheltered the flame with her hand. The kitchen appliances cast giant, distorted shadows against the wall and ceiling as she started toward the door, wondering ironically why candlelight could look so romantic at dinner and so spooky in a darkened house.
Making the rounds on the lower level, Ann closed windows and mopped up puddles from the floor where the rain had blown in. Then she went upstairs to repeat the procedure, shoving down the casement window in her bedroom and dabbing at the moisture in the creme-colored carpet with several dry, fluffy towels.
Retrieving the candle from the windowsill, she placed it on the dresser. Her reflection, pale and ghostly in the dancing light, startled her and sent her pulse racing. With a self-admonishing laugh, she began to towel dry her hair.
Her movements halted as her eyes were drawn to the candle. The flame leaped wildly, as though touched by a breeze, and yet she knew all the doors and windows were closed to the night.
She drew in a sharp breath as her heart vaulted to her throat. She could feel an almost infinitesimal coolness, a draft, as if somewhere in the house a door or window had been opened.
With trembling fingers to her lips, she waited silently. Deliberately she inhaled another long breath of air. The hair at the back of her neck prickled with awareness. Some vague, indefinable scent clung to the air, disturbing the unique essence of her private space. As though someone had been in her room. Slowly she turned from the mirror, her eyes warily scanning the room. Her closet door was ajar. Had she left it open earlier?
Her hand clapped to her mouth to hold back the scream, Ann whirled and dashed for the door. Instinct and fear propelled her through the black hallway, down the stairs, across the corridor. Her breath came in gasping sobs as she struggled with the bolt on the heavy front door. Finally it gave way, and she threw open the door. The scream came then as a looming, dark figure stood between her and freedom.
She screamed again and tried to spin away, but strong hands held her in a relentless grasp.
“Ann? What’s wrong? What happened?”
The deep timbre of Drew’s voice penetrated her terror-stricken brain, and she collapsed against his chest, burying her face in his shoulder. He pulled her trembling body into his arms and held her for a brief moment before he gently pushed her away from him.
“What happened?” His voice was calm and commanding, chasing away some of the panic that gripped her so tightly.
A shudder racked her body. Her teeth were chattering so badly she couldn’t force words past them, only ragged gasps of breath.
“Some...one’s in here. Up...stairs.”
They were standing in the doorway and at her words, Drew’s head turned to the stairs. “Wait for me on the porch,” he whispered against her ear.
“Drew—”
He silenced her with a finger to his lips as he gently pushed her through the door. Then he disappeared inside the house, and for the first time Ann noticed the heavy, metal flashlight he gripped in one hand.
Struggling for control, Ann melted into the deep shadows of the porch. The steady beat of the rain through the trees obliterated every other sound and sent her already jagged nerves to a dangerous edge. Shivering, she hugged her arms to her chest as she waited. And waited.
What was keeping him so long? What if he’d been jumped, hurt? What if he was lying inside—
“Angel?”
At the sound of the hushed voice behind her, Ann jumped violently. She whirled, her hand to her heart, as she saw Drew leap with casual ease to the edge of the porch.
In the misty illumination of the gaslight, he looked tall and formidable as he came to stand over her. She could see his features grimly etched in the faint light. “I checked all the rooms and then went out back to look around in the garden. I couldn’t find anything. Let’s go back inside and get out of this dampness,” he said, pulling his fingers through the soaked strands of his hair.
He held the screen door open for her and Ann, by the beam of his flashlight, led the way into the kitchen. While he toweled himself dry, she lit several candles until the room was warm and glowing.
“You didn’t see anythin
g at all?” she asked weakly after he had tossed the towel into the utility room.
Drew shook his head, his tone edged with a curious note of hesitation. “The doors and windows were all closed, and none of the screens appeared to have been tampered with. Both the power and the phone are out, but that’s probably from the storm.” He shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know, Ann. Someone could have come in here while you were gone and then was scared away when you came back. Exactly what did you hear?”
Ann’s gaze dropped from his. “No-nothing. I mean...I didn’t actually hear anything, but someone was in here, Drew. I know it. The candle was flickering like crazy and I could smell—” She stopped short as she saw Drew’s attention quicken.
“What? What did you smell?”
Again she hesitated. “I’m...not sure.”
“Well, did it smell like a man’s cologne or after-shave? Was it cigarette smoke? Liquor? Any of those things?”
She gazed up at him helplessly. “It wasn’t anything that I could identify. I could just tell that someone had been in my room. I know that sounds strange, but it’s true. Someone was in there.” She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to suppress a shiver. “If you hadn’t come when you did—”
“But I did,” he said in a deep, soothing voice as he reached for her. The contact was warm and reassuring, melting away the last remnants of her panic. “And I’m not leaving you alone tonight.”
His determined tone told her an argument would be useless, which was fine with Ann. She wasn’t about to give him one. She merely smiled shyly. “Thank you. You do believe me, don’t you?”
“Of course I believe you. Something obviously frightened you badly. Maybe in the morning we’ll be able to find some answers, but I’m not counting on it. After this rain, any evidence, such as footprints or car tracks, will have been washed away.” He gazed down at her, smiling sympathetically. “Let’s not worry about that right now. You’re still shivering. You need to get out of those wet clothes. Come on, I’ll run you a hot bath.”
Angels Don't Cry Page 13