Yet how could she expect Anthony to let go of his past if she was unwilling to let go of her own? This could be her last chance. If he left now…
“Melina?” He took another step, closing the distance between them. He tipped up her chin with his knuckle. “You know what happened to me. I want to know about you. What did you lose?”
“I lost my child, Anthony.”
Chapter 10
The words hung in the room like a shout, flooding the sudden silence with echoes of pain. Melina felt them return to her, batter her, wash over her, but she held her ground. Now that she had come this far, there was no going back.
“You had a child?” Anthony asked.
“He would have been eight years old this Thanksgiving.” She crossed her arms, rubbing her hands over her sleeves. “But he never saw his first birthday.”
He spread his fingers over her cheek. “Melina…”
She leaned her head into his hand. “My life has been different from yours, Anthony. I’m not trying to compare what happened to me to the tragedy that you lived through. I just wanted you to know that I do understand how loss can change your life.”
A stray strand of energy brushed over her, not so much a jab as a caress. “What happened?” he asked.
“I told you I had a storybook childhood, right?”
“Yes, I remember. You said you had two wonderful parents.”
“They were the happiest couple I have ever known. They loved each other with a passion that even a child couldn’t mistake. When I think of my home, I think of sunshine. It was filled with love. Nothing bad could happen there. I grew up wanting the same thing for myself.”
“But you didn’t get it.”
“My parents died in a car accident when I was away at college. I had never known loss before. I didn’t know how to deal with it, so I turned to a man I thought I loved. I dreamed of starting our own home and filling it with sunshine and children.” She moved aside. “I always wanted to have children.”
He dropped his hand. “You have deep emotions, Melina. Any man would be lucky to have your love.”
Even though Anthony was no longer touching her, she felt a hint of warmth trail down her back. The roots of her hair tingled. She crossed to the bed and picked up the envelope of evidence he had given her—the evidence she wasn’t going to use—trying to keep her thoughts focused. “Well, Chuck wasn’t looking for love, he was looking for a meal ticket. The day we got engaged, he asked me to move in with him. He used my inheritance to pay his rent and put him through law school.” She creased the flap at the top of the envelope. “I was happy to go along. It was easier to let him make all the decisions. I…wasn’t as adamant about being in control back then as I am now.”
Anthony regarded her closely. She could almost feel him sorting through the facts. “Did you marry him?”
“No. He wanted to postpone the wedding until after he graduated. When I got pregnant, he tried to talk me into an abortion. I refused. Things kept getting worse. It was Thanksgiving weekend when I finally faced the fact I had made a mistake. I had my suitcase packed and was waiting for a taxi when Chuck came back early from a football game.”
“What did he do?”
She crumpled the envelope, holding it to her stomach. “We argued. He lost his temper and punched me. In the belly. I went into labor. By the time the ambulance got there I had already given birth.”
A mixture of rage and compassion flashed across Anthony’s face. He reached her in two strides, took the envelope and tossed it on the floor, then looped his arms around her back and pulled her to his chest.
She leaned into his embrace, soaking in his strength. It wasn’t that she couldn’t stand by herself—she had been coping with this for years—but being in Anthony’s arms took the sting from the memories.
Some of the bands on her heart loosened. The words came easier than she would have thought. It felt good to share this. She wondered why she hadn’t done it before. “I had been thirty-one weeks along. My son was so small, and it had taken so long for the paramedics to get there, they didn’t think he would make it to the hospital. He did.” She inhaled shakily. “He lived three days.”
“I’m sorry, Melina.” His voice rumbled through his chest.
“I’ll never know whether or not Chuck wanted to kill our child. He swore he didn’t mean to. I pressed assault charges afterward, but Chuck knew the law better than I did so the case was dropped on a technicality.”
“The law doesn’t always work the way it should.”
No, it didn’t, she thought. Yet what had happened to her didn’t come close to what Anthony and his family had gone through. “I didn’t pursue the case. I realized none of it would have happened if I hadn’t been so gullible.”
“Not gullible, Melina. You were vulnerable.”
“I wouldn’t be again. The day I buried my son I took control of my life. I chose a career that dealt in fact instead of fantasy.”
“That’s why you became a reporter.”
“Yes. My job became everything to me. It’s how I coped with what I had lost.” She took a minute to gather her thoughts, then tipped back her head to look at him. “That’s why I recognize how much getting Benedict means to you.”
At the mention of Benedict’s name, the muscles in Anthony’s arms hardened. The tenderness that had briefly softened his face disappeared.
Melina could feel his withdrawal. She gripped his arms, filled by a sense of urgency. She still ached from the pain of her own memories, but she wouldn’t let that stop her. That was in the past. Her concern was Anthony’s future. She had to get through to him. “I do understand, Anthony, but I still won’t let you do it.”
“I have to.”
“You could be caught. You could be killed.”
“Not before I kill him.”
She wanted to shake him again, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. “And then what? Did you ever think of that? If you do kill him, are you going to be able to live with yourself afterward?”
His gaze didn’t waver. “I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.”
“Let the FBI handle it. Please. They won’t let Benedict escape.”
He moved his hands to her waist. His fingers dug into her hips as if he were on the verge of pushing her away. “Melina, I’m sorry. You’re asking too much.”
“Damn you, Anthony! Why is it all right for you to worry about everyone else but the minute someone cares about you, you shove them away?”
The lights suddenly brightened. The air crackled. Melina gasped as pleasure streaked from his fingers to her thighs.
She reminded herself the pleasure was only a physical side effect from his talent. Meaningless. Not real.
When did skepticism cross the line to denial?
The question made her pause. It was the same thing she had asked herself when she had first accepted Anthony’s psychic talent.
Maybe these feelings weren’t real to Anthony, but her desire for him didn’t turn on and off with his power. She slid her hand from his arm to his chest. “I do care about you, Anthony.”
Anthony muttered an oath. “Melina…”
“Don’t push me away.”
Waves of energy shimmered between them. Melina felt his heart beating hard beneath her hand. The rhythm echoed in her pulse, heightening her senses. She slid her palm down his shirtfront and felt the swell of washboard muscles and a line of silky hair.
When had she opened his buttons? she wondered hazily. She pushed the edges of his shirt apart, splaying her fingers on his bare midriff. Tiny shocks burst like bubbles along her palm.
His thumbs pressed into her hipbones, sending shudders down her legs.
She swayed into him and placed a kiss in the center of his chest. Crisp curls tickled the tip of her nose. The scent of soap and Anthony wove through her blood. She tilted her head to lick the hollow at the base of his throat.
Power swept through her like a hot wind, sparking awareness in ever
y nerve in her body. She didn’t consider resisting. She couldn’t. She yanked his shirt down his arms to bare his shoulders, hearing fabric rip, not caring, not pausing, needing to get closer.
Anthony shuddered, his muscles tensed. “You’re upset,” he said. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
Yes, she did, she thought. For the first time in eight years she really had put aside her past. She was reaching out. She was going to trust her heart. And it felt right. She traced her lips along the edge of his collarbone.
“It’s my power, Melina. Don’t confuse what you feel.”
She gave him a sharp nip to show him what she thought of that, leaving the imprint of her teeth on his shoulder.
“Damn it, Melina,” he whispered. “We can’t do this. Not now.”
She met his gaze defiantly. “If not now, then when?”
Desire swirled in his eyes. So did anger. The combination was dangerous, thrilling. Exhilarating. As wild and free as lightning on a cliff top.
I’ll do whatever is necessary to make sure that you’re safe.
How many times had Anthony said those words to her? Had anyone ever said them to him?
Melina smiled. Whatever is necessary. Without another thought, she reached between them and unfastened his pants.
It was her smile that did it. Anthony had seldom seen Melina smile. There hadn’t been much cause for it. Since the time they had met, they had been racing from one tense situation to another. The only smiles he had seen were fleeting and half-formed.
She had given him another piece of herself tonight. He knew she hadn’t done it lightly. Like her other emotions, her pain ran deep. He had known for some time that it was there, and had wondered about it. It had taken courage for her to reveal her story. He was moved by the trust she had shown in him. But instead of clarifying the situation, it made everything more complicated.
This new level of trust she had brought them to only intensified the awareness between them. It pushed at his senses. She said she cared about him, and he was disturbed by how much he wanted to believe it was true. The connection they shared was infusing his body with cravings that took every shred of his willpower to fight.
Yet it was her smile that reached him. It lit her face with the strength that had allowed her to overcome the blows that had been dealt to her without turning bitter. It crinkled the corners of her eyes with honesty. It put two dimples in her cheeks and stretched her lips into a generous, open, unconditional invitation that only someone made of stone could resist.
If not now, then when?
Damn it, why not? She wanted this. So did he. Whom would it hurt? He had waited twenty-eight years to fulfill his destiny. Would a few more hours make that much difference?
Anthony heard the rasp of his zipper. He caught Melina’s wrist and lifted her hand away from his pants.
Her smile faltered.
Holding her gaze, he sent a short burst of energy to the lamp beside the bed. It snicked off. Melina’s eyes widened as the backwash broke over them. He brought her hand to his mouth and pushed the tip of his tongue into the center of her palm, the way he had once before, watching her reaction as she realized what he was doing. Slowly, carefully, he loosened the restraints on his power.
She trembled, her lips parting.
“Is this what you want, Melina?” he asked.
Her smile returned, blossoming with pleasure. “Yes, Anthony, but only if you feel it, too.”
“I’ll show you what I feel,” he said. He switched off the other lamp, then opened the connection with Melina, letting his desire flow through. It mingled with hers, swirling as it returned to him, swelling so fast he stumbled backward, off balance.
The back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress. He swept Melina into his arms and fell across the bed. She landed on top of him.
There was no storm to augment his power. The light that filtered through the curtains was from the moon, yet Anthony could swear he felt the tickle of distant lightning on his cheek when Melina kissed his jaw. He grasped the hem of her sweater and tugged it upward. She caught his hands, then sat up with him, straddling his legs. She finished pulling off her sweater and flung it aside along with her bra.
Anthony had never seen a woman look more beautiful. It had nothing to do with the shape of her body. It was because of the way she held her shoulders proudly, her back arched as she offered herself to him. The skin across her breastbone was tinged with a blush, her nipples were swollen, her breasts rippled with each unsteady breath she drew.
The other time, it had been over too quickly. They both had been cheated. This time Anthony was going to make it last. Even when he had looked his fill, he didn’t touch her. He held his palms a breath beyond her nipples and sent a pulse of energy through his hands.
Her lips parted in surprise. Her knees tightened against his thighs. He felt her shudder.
He rotated his wrist and did it again. “Do you like that, Melina?”
“Oh!” She wriggled her shoulders. Her eyes darkened. “Oh, my.”
He watched her enjoyment—he felt her enjoyment—as he explored her breasts. Then he moved his hands lower, doing the same thing to her hips, to her thighs, to her knees, showing her other pleasure spots, reveling in her soft moans of delight.
She leaned forward, flattening her hands on his chest, her breathing shallow, her hair swinging over her shoulders. “How do you do that?”
“What?” He gathered the locks in his hands and used her curls to diffuse his energy, feathering the pulse through the ends of her hair over the sensitive skin of her neck. “You mean this?”
“Anthony, that’s…oh!”
He stroked a curl from the base of her throat to her chin.
“Ahhh…”
He licked his thumb and touched it to her lower lip.
She gave a whispered sob.
“Take off the rest of your clothes, Melina. I’ll show you what else I can do.”
Her sob turned into a laugh. She didn’t argue with his order. She rolled off him and did as he asked. He got rid of his own clothes and pulled her down on her stomach. Starting at her toes, he caressed every inch of her, then turned her to her back and started all over again.
He could smell her perfume and the scent of aroused female, making each breath he drew a burst of pleasure on his tongue. The power built more quickly than he would have believed. He lowered himself on top of her, using his body as he’d used his hands and her hair. Through the layer of dampness that sealed them together, he channeled his energy from his skin to hers in wave after sensual wave.
She tossed her head restlessly. She hooked her ankle behind his thigh, urging him closer.
He tried to ease back on his power. He knew too much would be painful for her, and he had more sensations he was eager to share. Yet the connection was too strong. He couldn’t control it now any better than he had before.
She arched off the mattress, locking her arms around his back. She closed her teeth over his earlobe.
“Melina…”
“Show me more, Anthony,” she murmured.
He moved between her legs, tilted his hips and did.
Melina cried out.
Anthony immediately stilled. He drew back to look at her. Had he gone too far? Had she passed out again?
She blinked and moistened her lips. Her pupils were so large, her eyes looked black. She moved her hands over his shoulders and down his arms. Her fingers trembled.
He smiled and did it again.
She clutched his biceps, her body rippling with another release.
He used his knees to nudge her thighs wider apart. “Do you want me to stop?”
In reply, she sank her nails into his buttocks.
The energy that shot through him was stronger than what he’d given her. It eddied around them, drawing them closer, joining them so tightly he could feel her breath in his lungs. He looked in her eyes and saw a reflection of his own. Was she moving? Was he?
“A
nthony!”
He rolled them to their sides and brought his mouth down on hers. Sparks glittered behind his vision. He was no longer in control. It didn’t matter. He let the passion take them both.
Melina paused at the side of the bed and looked at Anthony. It was difficult to see him through her tears. She hoped that once everything was over, he would understand why she had to do this.
Understand, yes, but there was a good possibility he might never forgive.
Even in sleep he looked intense. Sprawled naked across the mattress on his stomach, one arm flung over the place where she’d been lying, he dominated the bed the same way he dominated the room. His hair was loose, tangled from the play of her fingers. Moonlight silvered the swell of muscle along his shoulders that she had traced with her lips. His back was a long, lean span of male beauty, tapering to tight buttocks that bore the marks of her nails.
Part of her wanted to slip off her clothes and crawl back into that bed with Anthony. Simply standing here looking at him sent her pulse racing. And if she allowed herself to think about what he had done…
Oh, God. Too late. The mere thought of the way he had used his power to pleasure her sent an aftershock careening through her body. He was a generous and creative lover. Sensitive. Responsive. And so unbelievably sexy, he took her breath away.
Each pore in her body was glowing with satisfaction. Every inch he had touched had become an erogenous zone. What she had experienced during the thunderstorm had been merely a taste of what Anthony was capable of. She hadn’t thought pleasure like this was humanly possible. She felt so sated she could barely move.
A tear burned a path down her cheek. She let it fall unchecked. Anthony had used his power freely. For four hours straight he had channeled his energy into sex. And that was probably why he’d relaxed enough to fall asleep.
She curled her nails into her palms. Whatever it takes, she reminded herself. She had known she wouldn’t be able to change his mind about confronting Benedict. She had done this to save his life.
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