Wanton
Page 12
“I’d had a less than sterling home life after my mother died of ovarian cancer. My old man had run off on us when I was just a little kid, so my grandfather ended up with me. The old guy tried, I’ll give him that, but we didn’t have much in the way of luxury, and I was already mad as hell at the world. I didn’t make things easy on him. Whenever I’d push him too hard—and I was always real good at pushing—he’d get out a birch rod. The old coot had a hell of a swinging arm.”
Big, horrified tears welled up in Celia’s eyes and Alec shook her, saying through his teeth, “Don’t you dare cry for me, Celia. I never got a damn thing that I didn’t deserve. Except maybe my wife.”
Celia started to speak, but he didn’t want to hear anything she had to say. Knowing Celia and her soft heart, she’d try pitying him first, then cajoling, then comfort. He didn’t want any of it. He wanted to be inside her again so he could forget everything else in the explosive pleasure.
Loosening his hold on her arms, he said, “She had a similar background to mine, but with her, it was a stepfather to contend with, a real mean son of a bitch that I used to dream about punching out. Of course I never did, but the fantasy was sweet. And if he hadn’t run off when he did, I might have eventually gone after him. Marissa celebrated with me the day he skipped town. She dragged me down by the river and went wild over me. That was the first night we had sex.
“I rebelled over my life by being a jerk, but Marissa rebelled by taking any kind of love she could get, from any guy who’d give it. I felt sorry for her at first, because she was one pathetic kid, then lovestruck after she gave me my first taste of a female’s body. She was experienced enough to know exactly what she was doing, and with almost no effort, she turned me inside out. I let her become my whole focus. I thought she’d change, that I could make her life happy again, that she’d be content just being with me.”
He laughed, the sound a little too raw for his liking. “Turned out I was just one more guy in a long line of idiots.”
Celia turned her head to stare at the tattoo, the tears now clinging to her lashes. She gave a small, delicate sniff as she fought off the tears, but otherwise was quiet. Alec guessed she’d gotten more in the way of a story than she’d bargained for. He hadn’t intended to go into so much detail. The words had just sort of come out, against his will.
He brushed her tears away with his thumbs, then continued. “As soon as we graduated high school, I started making plans for us to get married. I got a job working a construction site, saved as much money as I could, and right before we turned nineteen, we eloped. To me, to the young stupid kid I was back then, that marriage was forever.”
Celia’s eyes searched over his face, intent and filled with sadness. “Because you loved her.”
His laugh was genuine this time. “Love? I don’t think so, babe. Hell, no nineteen-year-old knows what he’s thinking or feeling, especially when he’s only thinking with his gonads and not his brains. I thought I could make a difference, thought I could save her. But she straightened me out quick enough. Like your little Hannah, she wanted fame and fortune real bad. She was always talking about us moving away, but I could barely keep us afloat, much less consider packing up and heading out.
“One day I came home from a twelve-hour shift to find a note saying she’d gone to visit a friend in Chicago. It wasn’t until the next day that I found out she’d emptied out the savings account, not that we had much, but it would have been enough to pay the bills that were due. I had no idea where she’d gone, or where to find her. It took me awhile to track her down and by the time I caught up to her a couple of months later, she was strung out on dope and didn’t hesitate to tell me she liked the city life a lot more than anything I could offer her.”
He got quiet, remembering despite himself. With the memory came the feelings of helplessness, of betrayal. They’d buried themselves deep in his soul and he’d never been able to shake them off. Celia touched his jaw and he admitted, “She was living with three people—two of them men.”
Pressed up against him so tightly, Alec felt her quickly drawn breath, the way she stiffened. “Oh no. Alec, what did you do?”
He grinned evilly. “I beat the hell out of both the guys, though I had no idea which one was for her. Hell, maybe they both were. Knowing how insatiable she always was, I wouldn’t have put it past her. The cops got called, I got arrested, and she told me she was going to file for a divorce. I felt so damn sick, I didn’t even care. Right then, at that moment, standing in that crowded police station knowing all those uniforms felt sorry for me and that they were thinking what an ass I was to have ever fallen for her in the first place, I almost wanted to kill her myself. I did tell her to stay the hell out of my life.”
Celia wrapped her arms tight around him in a near choke hold. “She was wrong, Alec. But don’t you see? She didn’t know any better—”
“Like your Hannah?” He grabbed her arms to pull her loose, but she was like a damn spider monkey, clinging tight.
“No!” Celia leaned back to look in his eyes, but didn’t loosen her hold on him. He didn’t want to hurt her, so he had to give up on prying her loose and let her squeeze on him all she wanted. “Hannah wants help, Alec. She’s not like that. Her circumstances didn’t drive her away, only her bad judgment did.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” He gave her a twisted smile that he knew damn good and well wouldn’t reassure her one bit, but it was the best he could offer at the present. “Just because I couldn’t do a damn thing for my wife doesn’t mean I’ll leave little Hannah behind. You and I made a deal, and I’ll hold up my end of the bargain. I just wonder if she’ll thank you in the end.”
His cold tone must have disturbed her, for she shivered and said, “Alec? What happened to your wife? You told me she died.”
“Yeah.” He removed every bit of inflection he could from his tone, not wanting to give anything away, not wanting her pity, or even her understanding. “One month after I walked away without even trying to bring her home, she died. Overdosed during a party with her upscale friends. She never did get that divorce, so they called me, and when I went to see her body…”
His voice trailed off and he closed his eyes, but he could still plainly see her, how ravaged she’d looked, how thin and old. Jesus. Her life in the big city had taken its toll. And Alec had never quite forgiven himself for not trying harder to bring her around. It had seemed from the time she was born, she hadn’t had a snowball’s chance in hell of surviving. Like so many other people, he’d just given up on her. No matter what he told Celia, no matter what excuses he had, he’d let her down.
He knew now he’d never loved her, but he had felt sorry for her and he still did. He’d had a responsibility to her, one that he’d conveniently forgotten when his pride got bruised. Some days he felt so guilty he could taste it.
In so many ways, he felt sorry for Hannah, too, for being gullible and naive and vulnerable. But he didn’t want to get involved again. He hadn’t saved his wife, so why should he save anyone else? If it weren’t for Celia insisting…He hadn’t realized his arms had tightened on Celia again until she moved.
She kissed him. “Shhh. I’m sorry I made you dredge that all up.”
“I was behind on all my bills after the money she’d taken. I was barely able to catch up, and then she died and I couldn’t afford a funeral. My grandfather didn’t have any money, and her mother couldn’t have cared less. She was off with a new man by then.” He closed his eyes. “I had to let the state bury her…”
“Alec.” Celia kissed him, giving him so much in the touch of her mouth to his.
In near desperation, Alec cupped her face, holding her still while he took over, while he kissed her hungrily. Celia made him feel stronger and weaker than any other person he’d known. She stole his strength, but gave it back to him in spades.
He opened his mouth against her neck, drawing the skin in against his teeth, moving his mouth down to suck voraciously at her nipp
les. She groaned, surprised at his urgency, but still responsive as ever. He muttered, his tone thick and dark, “Just give me this, Celia. It’s all I want. Just this…”
For an answer, she wrapped her soft slender thighs tightly around his waist—and he was a goner.
He didn’t believe in love; what he’d felt for his wife hadn’t even been real, but more a pathetic effort to save her and himself, an effort he’d failed miserably. There hadn’t been another soul alive he’d let get under his skin since then. He saved people as part of his job. They were simple assignments, nothing more, easy to work through, easy to forget. Hannah could have been an assignment for someone else so he wouldn’t have had to get involved.
But now there was Celia. And truth was, she scared him half to death.
Making love to her seemed his only option, a physical way to drown out the sentient turmoil she caused. And now that he’d had release, just a bit of the edge was gone and he could take his time.
Alec did all the things to her he’d ever imagined, and she revelled in each and every one. He made love to her tenderly, and then with primitive determination, almost violent in his need. But she was with him every step of the way, reacting just as explosively, totally uninhibited. Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, they both fell asleep.
Unfortunately, Alec dreamed of his wife, her lush body thin and cold, her sexy features ravaged by death, and somehow her face and Celia’s were combined.
And just as he’d failed his wife, he failed Celia. Despite her skewed perspective on things, Alec knew she wouldn’t give herself so freely to a man unless she cared, unless she…loved him. In a deep part of himself he didn’t want to recognize, Alec accepted the truth.
The worst that could happen, had.
CHAPTER TEN
NO AMOUNT of physical exertion could chase away her demons this morning. Celia had already worked up a sweat, pushed herself harder than she ever had before, and all she could think of was last night. It had been both the most wonderful, and the most distressful, night of her life. Alec had loved her in ways she’d only dreamed of, ways that would have shocked her not so long ago, but had seemed incredibly romantic and intimate and special last night. With Alec.
He’d also been brutally honest about his views of the world—and she didn’t fit into his equation.
Celia had stirred when Alec crawled out of bed early that morning. But she didn’t tell Alec she was awake. She wanted time alone to think. She heard him washing up in the bathroom, heard him quietly dressing. When he walked over to her side of the bed, she kept her eyes tightly closed. Regulating her breathing wasn’t easy, but she just couldn’t face him yet, not knowing what she did now about his past—and how difficult it would be for him to trust in love again. Strangely, he didn’t seem to blame his wife or his grandfather or anyone else who’d let him down. He only blamed himself. Her heart wanted to crumble for the hurts he’d been dealt.
His rough, wonderful fingers touched her cheek, smoothed her hair, and seconds later she heard the soft click of the door as it closed behind him. She knew he’d hesitated, that he’d peeked out to make sure it was clear to leave. He’d broken his own rule about staying over and taking chances, and that, too, would anger him at himself. He’d see it as a lack of responsibility on his part. He was so protective…
The tears had started then. All night she’d held them off, knowing he hated to suffer through her excesses of emotion. But her heart hurt and she wanted so badly to curl up and hide away. Of course she didn’t.
Minutes after Alec was gone, she left the bed and found his note claiming he’d be back in the early afternoon. At first she was so relieved to find out he wasn’t gone for good. She hadn’t been certain about that, not with the way she’d pushed him. Then Celia realized that she hadn’t told him about the appointment she had with Marc Jacobs’s crony at two o’clock. If Alec didn’t make it back in time, he’d no doubt be livid to find her gone. He was overprotective to a fault, did the best he could to shield her, but he didn’t love her.
And he never would.
Celia squeezed her eyes shut as she did another series of crunches, working to distract herself, but with no success. Even Thelma Houston singing loudly from the portable CD player couldn’t penetrate her clamoring thoughts.
She loved Alec, but he had forever shut himself off from love. She had to accept the facts. Her brother, Dane, had been telling her for some time what a loner Alec was, how he seemed to thrive on his seclusion. Even Dane’s wife, Angel, whom Alec adored, made him nervous if she offered him the slightest affection. He approached every job with single-minded, cold deliberation, and an absolute lack of personal involvement that effectively settled things with the least amount of fuss. He didn’t want to be involved, not with anyone for any reason.
He’d told her, and his life-style proved it; Alec wanted her for sexual release, but with no ties.
He hadn’t been wrong about the chemistry between them. No, she didn’t feel used for knowing Alec’s touch. She felt cherished, and that hurt more than anything.
His poor wife. To Celia, she’d sounded so sad and misguided. And poor Alec. Despite what he’d said, regardless of how he’d thundered and thumped his chest, he was hurting still, and his guilt had been as plain to her as his smudged tattoo with the name removed.
Celia, already sweating, strained to lift herself one more time on the chin-up bar. To boost herself, she started singing with Thelma, her own rendition of a blood-rushing war cry.
“I’d have thought I exercised you plenty last night.”
Celia yelped at the intrusion of that amused, masculine voice. Dropping almost to her knees, she whirled to face Alec. His arms were laden with packages, and there was a wide, taunting smile on his unshaven face.
He looked delicious, she thought, in his rumpled jeans, dark T-shirt and flannel, like a renegade, lethal and sexy and more than capable of anything he set his mind to. Even though her embarrassment was extreme, she couldn’t help admiring him. “Alec, your note said you’d be gone till the afternoon!”
“It is afternoon.”
“No, it’s only eleven.”
He shrugged. “Close enough. I got everything taken care of faster than I expected.”
Still struggling with his smile, Alec put the boxes and bags on the small table, never quite taking his gaze from her. Legs braced apart, arms crossed over his chest, he was the perfect picture of the arrogantly amused male.
Celia nervously tugged her T-shirt lower. Other than her panties, it was all she wore, all she ever wore while working out in the oppressive summer heat. She cleared her throat. “Actually, I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.” Stalking forward, his eyes on the damp T-shirt clinging to her breasts, he added, “I expected to find you still in bed, all drowsy and sweet, but maybe this is even better.” He glanced up, his gaze holding hers. “You’re already…warmed up.”
“Alec.” Celia held her arms out, warding him off. She needed to talk to him, to explain about her plans with Jacobs, but he easily dodged her resistance and in a single move she found herself flat on the bed and Alec firmly planted between her thighs.
“You smell good,” he muttered, nuzzling her shoulder and throat.
“I’m sweaty!”
“Earthy. You smell like a woman. I like it.”
“Alec, please, I have to talk to you.”
“I love how you say please so prettily.” He kissed her breast through the cotton, lightly nibbled on her nipple. “It turns me on.”
She couldn’t help but laugh even as her body softened with wanting him. “I’m finding out that everything turns you on.”
“Everything about you. Believe it or not, I have icy cold iron control everywhere else.”
“Really?” She knew it to be true at work, but did he mean with other women also? The idea pleased her. If she couldn’t have everything, at least she had something special.
Alec started inching her shirt up,
and she knew once he had her naked, it’d be all over. She gripped his ponytail, making him wince, and blurted out, “Jacobs set up another meeting for me today.”
Alec stilled. “When?”
“At two o’clock.”
He stared at her hard for a moment, then shoved himself into a sitting position. Glaring down at where she still lay sprawled on the mattress, he asked, “And you’re just now telling me?”
Celia scrambled into a sitting position as well, pulling the shirt over her knees to maintain a false sense of modesty. “Well, last night you didn’t exactly give me a chance, now did you?”
He leaned forward, nose to nose with her. “So why didn’t you tell me this morning instead of playing possum?”
Celia tucked in her chin. “You knew I was awake?”
Alec rolled his eyes and stood to pace. “All right. From now on, business comes first.” He looked at her, his eyes black with inner fire, pinning her. “There’s nothing I’d rather do than spend a week in bed with you, but that’s going to have to come second to solving this business with Jacobs—if you’re still determined to see this through?”
She lifted her chin. “Of course I’m still determined.”
He muttered a curse. “That’s what I figured.”
“You’re the one who distracted me last night!”
“And I’ll damn well distract you again tonight, and the next night. But from now on, tell me what’s going on the minute you see me. No more holding back. What if I hadn’t gone shopping this morning? Then we’d be in a hell of a mess.”
Celia had no idea what his shopping had to do with her plans for Jacobs. She gave him a blank look and he sighed.
“Celia, I don’t want you around Jacobs again without a wire. It’s too risky. Watching you from outside that house last night took a good ten years off my life. I don’t want to go through that again. Seeing you in there, but not knowing what’s going on—anything could happen, and the more we deal with that bastard, the less I like it. The only way I can approve any of this—”