Each Time We Love

by Shirlee Busbee

  They stared at each other wordlessly and fighting to act normally when his every instinct cried out to take her in his arms and kiss her passionately, Adam, his voice oddly husky, said, "Ah, I see you found the clothes. I trust that you like them? If you don't, we can always order something else."

  Savanna swallowed, grateful that he was making this easy for her. Her hand caressed the heavy silk and shyly, she admitted, "They are lovely. I—I've never seen anything so l-l-lovely. Thank y-y-you."

  Another silence fell. Adam couldn't take his eyes off her, and the desire to make love to her was overpowering, but he was aware of the way he had taken her that last time by the pond and he didn't want to repeat it. He wanted desperately to erase that shameful memory from her mind, for her to remember his lovemaking with pleasure. Pouncing on her and ripping the clothes from her body and burying his flesh deep within hers at the first opportunity was not, even he knew, the way to accomplish his aims—despite the urgings and readiness of his body to do just that.

  Manfully ignoring the ache in his groin, clearing his throat, Adam finally said, "Well. I'm pleased that you liked them. I shall leave you to complete your toilet. When you are finished, let me know and I shall order up my own bath." Cursing his inept tongue and knowing that he was babbling like a fool, but unable to stop himself, he went on. "Our meal will not be served for some time yet, so I shall be able to bathe and refresh myself before it arrives."

  Adam had never felt this way before, had never found himself groping for conversation with a woman, and he was as gauche as any youth falling in love for the first time. Gone was his famous address and sophisticated patter, and feeling very much like a backwoods oaf faced with a queen, he muttered another inane comment and beat a hasty retreat to the outer room.

  Savanna had been too confused by her own conflicting reactions to him to realize that he was not acting in his usual confident manner, but she was aware that something vital and exciting had left the room with him. He had looked so handsome and dear standing there in the doorway, the unruly black hair curling rakishly near his temples, the blue eyes bright with some undefined emotion as he had stared at her. She had been both thrilled and ashamed that he had found her wearing the negligee and peignoir—one part of her wanting to flaunt her body in front of him, wanting to let the peignoir fall open, giving him a glimpse of her nipples straining against the lace inset, eager to see the flame of desire leap into his gaze; the other part wanting furiously to fling the garments at him and hurl all her pent-up anger and resentment at his high-handed blackmail back into his arrogant face.

  But it was too late to throw the clothing at him. Disgusted with her wayward emotions, she walked over to a satinwood dressing table with a matching mirror and, seating herself on the velvet-covered stool in front of it, stared at her reflection. What the devil was the matter with her?

  Savanna looked away, not seeing the lovely room in which she sat. She knew the answers to her questions. It was all tangled up with the way her mother had loved Davalos and what she had endured for loving the wrong man. There wasn't much that frightened Savanna, but she was terrified of being weakened by love, of allowing her love to let her be controlled by a man who had married her only because she was carrying his child.

  She sighed and picked up the silver-backed comb and brought her rapidly drying hair into some sort of order. Adam was being kind, she couldn't deny that. Having ruthlessly engineered their wedding for the sake of the child, he could still have been cold and cruel to her, but he hadn't—the very clothes she was wearing and the room she sat in were proof of his kindness and thoughtfulness. She tried desperately to remind herself how lucky she was. A bitter smile curved her full mouth. Oh, she was lucky, all right—at least she wouldn't have to endure the hell Davalos had inflicted upon Elizabeth, but wasn't she letting herself in for the same thing by falling love with Adam? Hadn't it been because Elizabeth had loved Davalos that he had been able to hurt her so deeply?

  Savanna stood up. Dwelling on the past, brooding over events that she could not change, accomplished nothing—except to make her feel even more dejected and trapped than she already did. Women had faced worse fates than the one that lay before her; she was just going to have to make the best of things.

  A resolute gleam in her eyes, she stared at herself in the mirror. She would make the best of things. Shoulders squared, chin lifted, with queenly grace she walked from the bedchamber into the sitting room, the peignoir flowing grandly about her bare feet.

  Those bare feet were the first things that Adam noticed and a smile touched his lips. Laughter glittering in his gaze, he looked at her, his expression inviting her to share his amusement as he murmured, "I believe that in the morning we shall have to go shopping for some slippers and perhaps some more items to add to your wardrobe... although I must admit that I find the sight of those pink toes of yours vastly appealing."

  Savanna glanced down at her toes peeking out from underneath the lacy hem, a smile touching her own mouth. "Good! Because I doubt that my normal footwear would compliment such lovely clothing." The words left her mouth before she'd had time to think about them, and she could have bitten her tongue off. It was bad enough that she had allowed herself to be seduced by the lovely garments, but here she was agreeing to let him buy her other things. Having forced her into marriage because of the child, was Adam now attempting to buy her compliance?

  Angry with herself and reminding herself that it had only been moments before that she had sworn to make the best of things, Savanna managed, barely, to keep a smile on her face.

  Seeking to change the subject, she walked further into the room and asked, "Have you ordered your bath?"

  "Yes, some minutes ago," Adam answered. "After last night's accommodations, I am looking forward to it."

  Even as he finished speaking there was a tap on the door. Adam's bath had arrived. Left alone in the large salon while he disappeared to bathe, Savanna moved about, wishing that the conflict within herself would abate. She was suddenly dreading the evening ahead of her and she wondered how she was going to endure years of Adam's lovemaking, knowing that it was merely lust that brought him to her bed, that there was no love in his possession of her body. Worse, she admitted bitterly, was that while her heart yearned for love, it didn't matter to her treacherous flesh that he did not love her—all he had to do was reach out and touch her and she was lost, her body turning into liquid fire, rapturous to experience again the sorcery of Adam's possession.

  But it did matter, Savanna thought desperately. It mattered almost more than anything else in the world to her....

  Adam returned refreshed from his bath to find Savanna curled up in one corner of a sofa, her feet tucked under her, her expression grave. A quizzical smile lurked at the corners of his mobile mouth, and seating himself at the other end of the sofa, he asked easily, "Why do you look so? Have you found disfavor with the robe? If you have, throw it away and I shall buy you another that pleases you."

  Adam meant to tease her, to bring a smile to her face; he was also a generous man—his wife would never want for anything, and knowing the poverty of her childhood, he was looking forward to indulging Savanna and himself in the process. He certainly hadn't expected the reaction he got.

  Her face paled at his words, the invidiousness of her position twisting painfully through her. Rather than let him realize how easily he could hurt her, she took refuge in anger, and leaning forward, her eyes blazing, she said, "I am not a child to be pacified with presents. You may have forced me to marry you, but since ours is not a normal marriage, I see no reason for you to be so bloody generous with your fortune."

  Adam's jaw tightened, but he said evenly, "But you are wrong, my dear. Make no mistake, our marriage will be normal in all facets."

  Savanna glared at him, glad of the rage that was coursing through her, glad that she could hide her love behind a facade of angry disdain. Rising to her feet, she glanced coolly at him. "Forgive me, but I think it is you who
has made the mistake."

  Adam surged to his feet, and jerking Savanna into his arms, he kissed her with an angry, urgent passion. Lifting his head, he stared grimly down into her face, his hands tightening on her shoulders. "No, sweetheart, I don't make mistakes, and you have erred badly if you think that I don't intend to avail myself of one of the few pleasures of marriage—making love to one's wife."

  Chapter 17

  Savanna's gasp of outrage was lost under the hungry onslaught of his demanding mouth, his strong hands pulling her up against his lean body, making her vividly aware of the fact that he was aroused and ready. She fought him and herself, trying desperately not only to escape from the seductive spell he could weave so effortlessly around her, but to quell the powerful urge to surrender that clamored through her veins at the first touch of his mouth on hers. It was an elemental demand that swept through her, her entire body electrified by the explicit probing of his tongue and the feel of his warm, hard body crushed against hers, but she fought against it, seeking furiously to avoid being engulfed by the carnal delight his kiss promised.

  Ignoring her attempts to escape, his mouth locked fiercely on hers, Adam swept her up into his arms and strode into the bedchamber. Reaching the gold, silk-covered expanse of the bed, he tumbled Savanna onto the feather-filled mattress.

  She landed in a sprawled heap, the peignoir flying open to reveal the clinging fabric beneath, and Adam stared at her lush curves as if he had never seen a woman before in his life. She was incredibly lovely as she lay there before him, her red-gold hair wildly cascading down her shoulders, her bosom heaving from her exertions, her pink nipples straining against the filmy lace. His body coiled with hungry desire and a hard smile curved his mouth. Escape him? Never! he thought savagely. She was his! His wife, and before this night was through, he would show her just how thoroughly she was indeed his.

  This wasn't how he had planned to take her, but all his good intentions had vanished the instant she had hurled that 'not a normal marriage' nonsense in his face. She was his wife and he would not be denied the pleasures he had dreamed of these past weeks.

  Reading the expression on his dark face, Savanna glared at him and scrambled clumsily to the middle of the bed just as he caught one slender ankle in a firm grip. "Let me go!" she cried, kicking viciously in his direction, trying vainly to free her ankle from his grasp—until she realized that her gown was slipping ever upward and that he was frankly enjoying the nakedness that was being revealed with every move she made. Her teeth clenched together, her aquamarine eyes turbulent with despair and fury, she ground out, "I hate you! Let me go!"

  There was a dazed look on Adam's face and with an effort he tore his gaze away from the long lengths of silken legs that her struggles had exposed. "Let you go?" he repeated thickly. He shook his dark head. "No. Never!"

  They stared at each other, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, and with every passing moment Savanna's heart beat faster, a languorous heat spreading through her body, the unwanted fascination he held for her increasing. She was shamefully aware of how she must look, sprawled in disarray on the bed, her gown angling up across her thighs, one hip half exposed, her nipples pushing against the blond lace, and yet it occurred painfully to her that a part of her was glad he found her attractive.

  Her eyes fell first and she cried, "Oh, let me go! I didn't want this marriage and I don't want you."

  A muscle in Adam's jaw leapt and his hand tightened around her ankle. "You will," he said huskily as he dragged her toward him. "Believe me, sweetheart, this time, you will."

  She glanced at him as he stood there, tall and disturbing in the flickering candlelight, his thick blue-black hair tousled from their struggle, the fine black silk dressing gown he had put on after his bath revealing the width of his broad shoulders. With his handsome features and powerful body, few women would have resisted his advances, and Savanna didn't doubt that he could indeed make her want him. But she had never doubted his ability to make her forget everything but the dizzying intoxication of his possession; it was the knowledge that there were no deeper, finer feelings involved in his lovemaking that made her fight so strongly against his seductive lure. It was a bitter struggle she waged, not only against him but against herself as well, her own flesh betraying her, her very skin tingling with hunger for his caress. As she stared at him, to her intense mortification, she was angrily aware of the changes taking place within her, of the liquid fire pooling in her belly, of the throbbing of her nipples and the craving of her lips for more of his demanding kisses.

  Inch by inch, Adam pulled her to him, his eyes locked on hers, daring her to deny the attraction that lay between them, daring her to deny him the pleasures he could give them both. It was the movement of the silken gown that finally broke their silent battle of wills, Adam unable to keep his gaze from the pale limbs that had haunted his dreams. With a sensuous appreciation, his eyes roamed over the charms that lay before him, the sweet ache between his legs becoming more urgent and pronounced with every passing second.

  Savanna was utter temptation as she lay on the gold coverlet, the curling mane of fire-kissed hair spread out like a river of flame, the aquamarine gown bright against the alabaster smoothness of her skin. Her eyes were brilliant with all the conflicting emotions that raged inside her, her cheeks flushed, her mouth a half-parted rosy invitation, and Adam's eyes rested a long time on those unknowingly provocative lips before his gaze slid down the wondrous charms of her tall shape. The gown had slipped upward at an angle, baring just enough of her flesh to tease him with images of the soft curves that still lay hidden. One full breast was partially uncovered, the nipple hidden beneath the silky fabric; half her rib cage and part of her stomach and hip were bare, and at the junction of her naked thighs, a few tight red-gold curls were exposed before his eyes traveled down the long, lovely length of her legs.

  Savanna knew she should do something, that she should not lie here so complaisantly and allow him to look his fill, but a strange languor seemed to hold her motionless on the bed. She felt weak, unable to move, as if she were melting under Adam's look, and desire, insidious and irresistible, spiraled slowly through her body. The knowledge that he was her husband, that together they had made a child, that, willingly or not, she loved him, mingled with that wanton, perfidious desire and she was unhappily aware that she was struggling against forces far stronger than she was... or than he was. She wanted him, every nerve and fiber of her being calling out to him, and the urge to fight against the fundamental demands of her own flesh vanished. She was left helplessly adrift in a sea of hungry yearning.

  The drift of Adam's fingers up her leg sent a shiver of delight through her body and she glanced downward, his hand appearing very dark against the whiteness of her skin. Mesmerized, she watched as his head appeared and he pressed an ardent kiss near the top of one thigh. She jumped, startled by the frankly erotic feelings that coursed through her at his actions, and Adam looked up at her, the wicked gleam in his sapphire-blue eyes making her pulse leap.

  "We have," he said thickly, "a long night ahead of us, with much to learn... and enjoy."

  She wanted to refute his words, but she could not, and while she made no move to escape him, she offered one last protest. Bleakly, she muttered, "I don't want..."

  "Don't want me to do this?" he asked mockingly, his mouth sliding seductively across her skin. Dropping hot, stinging little kisses on her soft body, his lips traveled ever upward, following the line of the fabric across her trembling thighs, making her jerk when his questing mouth brushed faintly against the tight curls at the V of her thighs before continuing across her stomach and rib cage. Gently nuzzling her breast, he murmured indistinctly, "Or this?" Through the fabric his teeth found her swollen nipple and he toyed with it, his ministrations making Savanna arch up, burning for him to take it fully into his mouth.

  He denied them both what they wanted, but by the time his seeking mouth found hers, Savanna was one long ache of unful
filled desire. She met his kiss recklessly, the battle against him lost long ago, perhaps from the moment she had first laid eyes on him, and her lips parted easily as his tongue surged into her mouth.

  Inflamed by her response, Adam crushed her beneath him, his tall, muscled body joining hers on the bed, his hands holding her face to his as he drank deeply from the honey of her mouth. His robe was half open and their naked legs tangled as they lay there kissing each other with unrestrained passion. The sensation of her soft limbs rubbing against his was unbearably tantalizing, but he was impatient with even the slightest barrier between them, and with a soft curse he left her lips long enough to struggle out of the confines of his robe. Lowering himself once more, he pressed a series of brief kisses along her earlobe and jawline, his hands ruthlessly removing the enticing garments she had put on earlier. It was only when she lay before him in naked splendor, a lushly curved alabaster figure illuminated by the fiery glow of the red-gold hair on her head and between her legs and the swollen rosy nipples of her bosom, that Adam was satisfied. Tossing the clothing onto the floor to join his robe, he stared reverently at her naked exquisiteness, his gaze lingering on her still-flat belly.

  Astonishing both of them, he dropped a tender kiss where their babe grew within her. "My child," he murmured, an odd note of wonder and awe in his voice, as if the reality had just now dawned on him.