Ever a Song

by Karen Toller Whittenburg

  He moved to her, lifted his palm, and placed it against her cheek. Seconds rippled past, one following another as his thumb stroked her in sensual promise. The storm rumbled closer, a rhythmic discord in a silent world. His hand left her and for an instant only his gaze caressed her. Autumn parted her lips with longing and then, in unison, she and Cade defied the distance separating them. Her hands sought shelter in his and her fingers curled trustingly into his hold. She was conscious of his strength and the power resting in his muscular body and she knew the taut, sweet ache of wanting him. And then she tasted the yielding pressure of his mouth and was lost in her need to love him.

  He pulled away slowly, his kisses lingering, his hands gripping hers tightly. “Come home with me?”

  Yes. Her voice conceived the word, but there was no breath to support it. So she nodded once, and then again. With her fingers enclosed in his, he brushed the back of his hand along her chin lightly, and he bent briefly to take her lips a second time. In unspoken accord, they turned, individually but together, making their way down the steps, leaving the boutique, walking through the empty store, getting their coats, turning out the lights, and finally stepping through the doorway into the misty gray evening.

  As she waited for Cade to lock the door, Autumn turned her face to the wind and felt the first stinging drops of rain. In the time it took for him to reach her side, the storm gathered momentum and sent a wetness down on them.

  “My car!” He yelled the instruction into the deluge and touched her arm to guide her, but Autumn suddenly didn’t want to leave. Her eyes closed, her chin lifted, and her palms opened to the wild, pulsing beat of the rain. She was aware, wondrously aware of being alive, of loving and being loved. She was a part of this furious, pelting storm, and the storm was a viable, driving part of her. Spinning slowly around, she searched for Cade to share this feeling with him and found understanding in his eyes. Her husky laughter vibrated with the thunder and her arms rose to encircle his shoulders and draw him against her.

  “I love you, Kincade O’Connor.” Rain invaded her mouth and trickled down her throat. She licked the cold moisture from her lips only to find it replaced by Cade’s steamy warmth. She leaned into him, feeling his body heat melt into her own desire. Lightning lit up the sky above them, but Autumn wrapped herself in his embrace and knew she had found the eye of the tempest.

  Soaked through, hair sodden and plastered against her head, saturated by the icy water streaming over her, Autumn wanted to laugh aloud with sheer joy.

  But she couldn’t laugh, she couldn’t shout or sing. She was breathless, drowning in his kiss, delighting in the elements of nature that whirled around her and pounded within her.

  I love you. I love you. I love you. The thought was there in the rhythm of the rain, in the throbbing heartbeat of the evening. Wet, hard droplets splattered on her face and ran in rivulets to her mouth, trying to share in the tender moment of clinging lips and blending passions. The wind whipped around them, pulling at her coat and bonding corduroy to skin, twisting sleek threads of hair into tangled strands. She was cold, chillingly, stingingly cold. And yet she was content to stay where she was, in his arms, in the midst of a turbulent world, in the one place she truly, finally belonged.

  Thunder cracked a warning and Cade drew back, His smile enveloped her like a fleecy blanket. “I could swear I heard fireworks just now.”

  “And I was certain it was bells—pealing madly.”

  Her lips curved with a loving smile. “Let’s try it again.” She swayed toward him, but he caught her arm and turned her in the direction of the parking area. The full force of the wind tossed her objections to the high heavens and Autumn bent her head and let Cade half lead, half pull her to his car.

  When he jerked open the door she tumbled inside, scooting across the seat as quickly as she could to make room for him. Shivering, she pushed dripping hair out of her eyes and watched as he slammed the door and turned to her with a gentle frown and a very wet shake of his head. He started to speak. Autumn saw the intention in his expression, but he stopped, the corners of his mouth tilting wryly as he held her gaze in the cool yet steamy interior of the car.

  “I wouldn’t trade the past few moments with you for anything,” he said in a voice gentled with amusement, “but I keep wanting to say something like, ‘We’ll be lucky not to catch our deaths of pneumonia,’ or ‘Hypothermia is nothing to sneeze at.’ ”

  Autumn laughed. She had never been so cold or so drenched or so happy. “I was thinking more along the lines of hackneyed phrases like, ‘Why don’t you light my fire?’ or ‘Let’s get the hell out of here.’ ”

  His laughter joined hers as he started the car and drove away from the store. Autumn wanted to tell him again that she loved him, she wanted to ask him a dozen things, but she was shivering now in earnest and every time she opened her mouth her teeth chattered audibly. So she settled for telling glances and warm thoughts of reaching shelter and the golden heat of the fireplace. Cade also seemed to be having difficulty in framing his words with steadiness, and the drive to his house was quiet, but fast.

  Once inside, Autumn dripped onto the tiled entryway, uncertain of what to do. She frowned when she saw the long, comfortable room stretching before her. The fireplace was empty and uninviting. Even anticipating a roaring blaze offered only transitory comfort.

  Cade didn’t allow her much time to dwell on thoughts of the fireplace, empty or otherwise. With a brief but promising brushing of lips he helped her out of her coat and dropped it, along with his, on the couch. They didn’t worry about the fact that the coats were still wet. Shoes came off next. Hers and then his. Autumn rubbed her arms and made a futile attempt at telling herself she would be warm any minute.

  But not until Cade lifted her into his arms and held her snugly to his chest did she feel the tiniest glimmer of warmth. As he carried her up the stairway she nestled close to the sound of his heartbeat and was quietly grateful that he didn’t expect conversation. Even if she hadn’t been shaking with cold, Autumn wasn’t sure she could have composed a coherent sentence. I love you seemed to be the sum total of her repertoire at the moment. Of course that wasn’t such a bad limitation when she considered the many possibilities of that expression.

  She tightened her hold as Cade pushed open a door with his shoulder and carried her inside the room. It was his bedroom and as he let her down so she stood on the carpet, Autumn remembered the one time she had tagged along up the stairs only to have this same door slammed in her face. Come back when you‘re invited! he’d told her, ruthlessly crushing her innocent wish to see his bedroom. She’d pouted for hours, but now she understood why he’d closed the door that day.

  To have invited her then would have invaded the moments they were about to share. His bedroom, the one room she had never seen, was the one place in his home that she entered first as a woman, as his lover.

  “Get out of your clothes,” he commanded before her toes had time to curl into the plush carpet. Then he was unclasping her hands from behind his neck and striding past her to the adjoining bath.

  “Get out of your clothes,” she mumbled, and punctuated it with a shiver. Not the most loving statement he might have said, but then again it was not the sort of comment just anyone might make. Certainly it was not worth quibbling over.

  “Autumn, for Pete’s sake, take off your clothes.” He spoke directly behind her, his voice muffled a little by the towel he placed over her head. Rubbing briskly, he began drying her hair. She lifted numb fingers to clammy buttons and worked at separating the material, but it was slippery work and it was so hard to concentrate when he was stroking her hair over and over with the luscious soft warmth of the towel.

  “I’ve never been in your bedroom before.”

  There was a slight pause in the stroking movements. “You’ve been here hundreds of times in my thoughts,” he said quietly.

  “Oh.” A pinpoint of sadness pricked her heart at the idea. While she had been foll
owing a shadow song, Cade had been here, thinking of her. “I never knew.”

  There was no answer, only the faint feel of his lips against her covered head. She glanced over her shoulder, but all she could see was a draped fold in the rose-colored towel. “I like being here now, Cade.”

  “Autumn.” He breathed encouragement along the inner curve of her ear. “You’ll like being in a warm bed even better. I promise.”

  Her heart settled into the most pleasurable beat and she committed her attention to making progress. At last the top button of her blouse slipped free of its mooring and the garment opened slightly.

  His long fingers grazed the back of her neck. A sudden whisper of desire stole her breath and she turned, her hair spilling from the towel to her shoulders. Cade faced her, his own hair glistening with moisture. A raindrop shimmered at his temple before sliding down his cheek and Autumn lifted a corner of the towel and wiped the drop away.

  The velvety fabric seemed to move of its own accord beneath her hand, drying him, caressing him. A delicious tension crept through her, bringing warmth and an aching need, a need that increased as, with a seeking fingertip, he traced the open neckline of her blouse. The chill, the discomfort of wearing clothes bonded to her skin, the shivering, all fled as a tide of heat began a slow upward spiral inside her.

  His eyes were deeply, intensely blue, looking down into hers as he deftly flipped open the second button and the third and fourth and fifth. Her blouse peeled away with only a little resistance and fell discarded to the floor. He quickly, soothingly, coaxed her bra to follow. Then the towel slipped from her limp grasp as he pulled it around her, enveloping her in the lush velour. It swathed her back and shoulders and felt deliciously warm and dry.

  With the edged hem Cade began to rub the cold from her skin. The circling massage drifted downward in a gradually slowing pattern until he reached her breasts. His gaze dropped to admire the gentle slope that seemed to lift in invitation even as he watched. His palm reached to cup and knead her breasts, although reason told him this was not the time to linger. She was cold and she was depending on him to warm her. He should have tucked her in bed, put her beneath the covers without delay, without this painful ache of wanting her past the point of reason. But she was so lovely, too tempting as she bared her breasts to him. He wanted, needed, desperately to possess her. He inhaled a long breath of control and covered her with the towel.

  Autumn, however, lifted her hands to his shirt and the carefully adjusted towel slid to a tantalizing angle, the deep-rose velour underlining a deep-rose nipple. He curved his palms above her waist and bent to taste the texture of her. Slowly her fingertips inched under his collar and sidled to the nape of his neck. She held him, arching into his caress, her skin cool and damp against his tongue, her heartbeat a heated throbbing beneath his hands.

  When he drew back she moved closer, not allowing the smoldering warmth within her time to abate. She worked at unfastening his shirt buttons with steady purpose, her movements supple and determined. In only moments his chest was exposed to her eyes and to the feathery quest of her fingers. Her palms rested smoothly against his chest hair as she stood on tiptoe to reach his mouth. A tiny trill of sound—low, soft—came from her throat just as he claimed the kiss she so willingly offered.

  Her senses came to glowing life with the tender meeting of their lips. The scent of rain surrounded her; the taste of it was on her tongue. The feel of damp denim against damp corduroy reminded her of the driving rhythm of the storm, of the elemental passions blending in wild celebration, of the beautiful joining of lovers. She clung to him, wanting the fulfillment of her desire, yet reluctant to place even the smallest distance between them.

  As if aware that the fire within was burning too quickly out of control, Cade moaned gently and created an insistent pressure at her waist. Autumn leaned back just enough to look up at him, only to find herself drawn to the fiercely compelling emotion in his eyes. Words of love, shared in silence, banked the flames to embers ... embers that sizzled a protest through her veins.

  With subdued urgency Cade proceeded to undress her. As he tugged the corduroy pants down and off her hips, he rested his lips fleetingly in the hollow of her shoulder. “What happened to the towel?” he murmured.

  She tilted her head to lure him again. “Who cares?”

  “I do,” he responded, bending to ease the material past her thighs, “I don’t want you to catch pneumonia.”

  “Too late.” Her voice was thick with yearning. “I’m consumed with fever.”

  “Autumn,” he said in a velvet tone that sounded oddly rough and uneven. “Please help me get you out of these wet clothes. You need to be in bed.”

  Yes, oh, yes. She sank onto the edge of the mattress and lifted her feet from the floor so he could pull off the rest of her clothes. Cade paused for only an instant to run his gaze over her body before he retrieved the towel from the carpet and began rubbing her feet and legs. The massage was rapid but thorough as he stimulated a pulsating heat to the surface of her skin. From toe to calf to thigh he worked, neglecting not a single inch.

  Autumn watched, wondering how he could be so patient when she was trembling with impatience. Was his hunger less than hers? Did she need him so much more than he needed her? She shivered at the thought and Cade immediately straightened to jerk back the bedcovers and pull them around her. And with the fugitive frown that creased his forehead, she knew his restraint was born of concern.

  Instead of lying down, as he obviously expected her to do, she caught his muscled forearms and tugged him toward her. “Would you stop trying to protect me from pneumonia?” she asked shakily. “I’m not cold and I’m not getting into this bed without you.”

  His smile was a slow, tender curve. “I’m not a martyr. I have every intention of getting into bed with you, just as soon as you let go of my arms.”

  Her lips formed a soft O of understanding and her fingers slipped to the tousled sheet. She drew her legs up and wrapped the bedcovers around her ankles. Then she propped her chin on her knees and watched him shed his clothes. Unabashedly she admired him and wondered at the anxious tension in her response. She wanted him. She loved him. And he loved her. Yet she was nervous—nervous because of her changing role in his life. Could she be the woman he needed? Could she be to him the supportive, understanding mate that he would be to her?

  As he came to the edge of the bed Autumn lifted her gaze slowly, hesitantly, from his naked body to the naked desire in his eyes. He bent toward her and she opened her arms without reservation. Yes. She could be friend, lover, mate. Whatever this strong, sensitive man needed from her she would give freely, lovingly, always.

  Her lashes swept languidly to her cheek as he placed a kiss at the corner of her mouth. It was an evanescent touch, gone in an instant, only to come again on the other side. Her tongue glistened a moist path across her lips, leaving them parted and trembling with his nearness, but Cade seemed in no hurry to still the light tremor. He continued the sweet seduction as with arms braced on either side of her he pressed her persuasively down to the pillow.

  She followed his guidance, sliding onto the sheets, stretching her legs back and over to make room for him beside her. The raspy texture of his calf grazed her thigh in scintillating massage. The provocative gliding of his tongue along the contours of her mouth stirred the smoldering embers of her yearning. The coolness of her skin joined with his and then began to dissipate like a morning mist in the rising sun.

  Cade covered her with kisses, from the subtle arch of her eyebrow to the curve of her chin, down to the aching hollow of her throat, along her shoulders and the fullness of her breasts. With each tender touch Autumn melted deeper into love. She was drifting in the ebb and flow of sensation, drawing him with her into stormy passion and gossamer delight. Loving him was as exhilarating as skimming the crest of the ocean waves. And with the same skill he used to guide the sailboat, he brought her whispered longings to desperate pleas.

 
She stroked him in turn, commanding his response by the sensuous exploration of her fingertips. For every sensitive place on her body that he aroused to fiery splendor, she found and evoked a corresponding reaction. The exquisite torture sailed on and on, until the air was thick with desire, until her heart beat against her ribs in a silent cry for fulfillment.

  His mouth at her breast, his hand cupping her moist, inner warmth, Cade continued to caress her. His kisses consumed her like flames on a wintry night. Like the slow awakening of spring he stirred her senses to new life, opening her body to intimate acceptance of his. The searing beauty of their union enveloped her in the torrid heat of summer, a summer that seemed to go on forever. Then in a brilliant burst of wonder, the seasons of her life came full circle and Autumn cried out in surrender, her restless spirit winging home ... to Cade.

  Chapter Ten

  Lovingly curled up next to him, Autumn teased the relaxed curve of his lips by running her finger over his mouth. He caught her fingertip with his teeth and nipped it gently. “I love you,” she whispered, and he released her finger with a contented sigh.

  “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to say that to you.”

  She traced the angle of his chin. “Why didn’t you?”

  “It sounds so simple, doesn’t it? But nothing has ever been simple where you’re concerned. From the very first day you bounced onto the boat-house dock, talking every step of the way with all of your little-girl enthusiasm, you’ve complicated my life. It’s been one challenge after another trying to be your friend, counselor, confidant, and shoulder to cry on.”

  He rubbed the length of her arm, his hand ruffling the contours of the sheet. “I’ve never understood why I felt I had to be everything you expected ... and more. Maybe it was because no one else believed in me as fiercely as you did.” His pause was soft with memories. “No one else needed me or loved me or depended on me in quite the same way. You were special, Autumn, from the very beginning.”