“But, Amy, what about your kitty? Won’t Sushan be lonely without you?”
Indecisive, Amy scrunched her face into a thoughtful expression. Then her eyes widened and she smiled. “Sushan can visit her brothers and sisters in the barn till I get back.”
“The children do not even have their sleeping garments with them,” Nesrin protested weakly, still seeking an excuse not to leave the children.
“That’s no problem, honey. I got all kinds of pajamas around here for my grandkids. We’ll find something that fits.”
“But I’m not sure Parker and I should be alone.” Until now, the children had provided some sort of a barrier to the urges they had both felt. With them gone...
Louanne wrapped her arm around Nesrin’s shoulder. “Honey, there comes a time when a man and a woman don’t need no youngsters around. I think for you and Parker, that time’s about come.”
“I’m afraid,” Nesrin admitted. Her stomach did a little flip-flop, or maybe it was her heart turning over.
“Shucks, honey, all us girls get a little nervous now and again. Parker ain’t gonna bite. You’ll see.”
Temptation was a terrible thing, indecision even worse. Nesrin was not sure she understood all the implications of what Louanne had said. But some urge she could not quite identify insisted she agree.
“Well...if you think Parker will not mind the children staying.”
Both children cheered and wrapped their arms around Nesrin in a soaking-wet hug. She laughed. She was not at all sure she should have agreed to being alone with Parker. But how could anyone resist two such adorable children, whom she had also grown to love?
Chapter Seven
She was going to submit to Parker Dunlap.
The possibility terrified Nesrin.
With all of her powers, she fought against the inevitability of such a reckless act. She railed at the unutterable torment of discovering the one thing her heart most desired, and knowing if she accepted such a gift she would be condemning herself back into darkness—dreadful, lonely blackness that never ended, from which not even Parker would have the power to release her.
Yet she so desperately wanted to be touched by Parker’s special magic, even if she would be allowed that pleasure only once.
Foolish woman.
She remembered every word Rasheyd had used to curse her into the darkness of the lamp. They had echoed starkly in her mind for centuries in an ancient dialect so foreign the harsh syllables sounded unfamiliar to her own ears.
Her vision blurred. Her trembling fingers worked without conscious thought, tearing bits of lettuce for their dinner salad into smaller and smaller pieces.
Standing nearby, Parker opened the refrigerator and retrieved a beer. He popped the lid.
Nesrin flinched, and ripped the lettuce leaf into even more minuscule portions.
“You sure the kids are going to be all right with Louanne?” he asked. “Kevin can be a handful. I wouldn’t want him to drive her crazy.”
“She seemed happy to have them stay with her.” Nesrin was far more likely to face insanity than Louanne. Her thoughts tumbled and jumbled through her head in a bewildering tangle, like a twisted skein of silken threads in hopeless disarray.
“I admit it’s nice with just the two of us for a change. Cozy.”
“Yes.” She would have chosen a different word to describe how it felt. Intimate came to mind. Fraught with possibilities. And danger.
“Guess we have to thank Louanne for looking after them.”
“She is a very good friend.” A friend who was generous with her advice.
Though Nesrin did not dare look directly at Parker, she was acutely aware of him leaning casually against the kitchen counter, one booted foot crossed over the other. He appeared relaxed, but she wondered if he was disguising a keen alertness, like a swift predator feigns lazy disinterest until, with a final burst of speed, he captures his quarry.
“The men who came to the house?” she asked, her fingers working rapidly to shred another piece of lettuce. “You are sure they will not return?”
“Not unless they get a court order, which doesn’t strike me as very likely. You don’t have to worry about them anymore.”
That was fortunate, because Nesrin had a great many other matters on her mind at the moment.
“Nesrin...”
Her hands stilled at the question in his tone. Would he ask her to submit now, when she had not yet won her battle against temptation?
“Are you planning to feed another army?”
Lifting her gaze, she stared at him innocently. “Army?”
The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile. “It looks to me like you’ve shredded enough lettuce for at least a brigade.”
“Oh, my...” A mountain of lettuce filled the serving bowl. Flustered, she snatched up a carrot from the counter and began slicing it into paper-thin circles. “Louanne says fresh vegetables are good for us.”
“Lots of vitamins.” His mocking voice teased across her nerve endings like the shivery caress of a summer breeze. Or, she imagined, like the skilled hands of a lover.
She chopped at the carrot with rapid, agitated strokes. Her heart echoed the same erratic beat. “She says we must eat three servings of vegetables each day, and several more of grains. Meat, we should have only—” The blade came down on her finger.
With a soft cry, she sucked in a breath.
“What’s wrong?”
A slender red ribbon of blood marked the tip of her finger. “It is nothing.” There was little pain, still she could not halt the tears that filled her eyes. If he asked her to submit, where would she find the courage to say no? Or the bravery to say yes?
He took her hand. Turning on the water, he placed her finger beneath the cold liquid stream. The cut stung, but in no way did the feeling dim the sensation of Parker’s closeness, the sense of his broad chest so near, his height, and his quietly radiating power that had nothing to do with physical strength but came from somewhere inside.
“You need to be more careful.”
“A silly accident.”
As he rinsed the blood from her finger, she and Parker seemed connected—as a bee to pollen, a flower to the sun, night to day. Separate but inseparable, needing each other, and in their natural contrast making one the more precious because of the other.
Outside, the clouds continued to build against the mountains, and the sound of thunder rumbled in the distance. Within Nesrin she felt the same turmoil.
Parker shut off the water and dried Nesrin’s hand with a paper towel. She looked as edgy as a filly who was about to come into heat—interested but not quite ready. He had in mind to encourage the next step in the process. Without rushing her, of course. Or frightening her as he had in town earlier in the day.
Slow and easy, he told himself, hoping his body would obey his command.
He soothed back a few strands of her dark hair from her face, thinking he’d like to see her hair loose, spreading like a fan across his pillow. Better yet, he’d like to feel the long, silken strands draped across his chest.
Slowly, with the tip of his finger, he explored the delicate swirls of her ear, knowing there were other, more intimate places he would like to investigate with equal ease.
Her eyes questioned him—or maybe she was questioning her own responses. He couldn’t be sure which. But he noted how her eyes had darkened from a warm, sultry brown to almost black, and how her chest rose and fell with accelerated breathing. When her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, fierce need shot through Parker. He ached for her. Painfully. He wanted to take her right here in front of the kitchen sink, lift her off her feet, prop her on the tile counter so she could wrap her legs around him, and impale himself in her tight warmth. Just as earlier he’d wanted to take her on the hood of his car.
He’d never felt like that about any other woman. Now, twice in one day...
His head began to buzz with the urgency of his need, the heated images,
and it took him an instant to realize the sound he heard was the damn oven timer going off.
He swore under his breath. His hunger had nothing to do with whatever the hell was cooking.
Nesrin slipped from Parker’s grasp. He was weaving a spell around her that drained her will and left her feeling breathless. He shouldn’t touch her like that. So gently. As though she had already agreed to submit to him.
“The chicken must be ready,” she said as she turned away, her voice reed thin and lacking determination.
“Great.”
“It is late.” Almost dark, she realized, the storm bringing night to the mountains early. “You must be hungry.”
“Very.”
He was still standing close, forcing her to move around him as she found plates and served up pieces of chicken as she had been taught. Potatoes, too. The overly full salad bowl she placed on the table.
“A big man like you needs much nourishment in order to be strong,” she said.
“Food’s not the only thing a man can need.”
The same could be said for a woman. She had never been so aware of her other needs, cravings that were making themselves known, and rivaled food and water in their importance. Even the air she breathed, filled with Parker’s musky scent, seemed suddenly of lesser relevance than satisfying the velvet heat of her forbidden desire.
She closed her eyes and, with a shudder, forced herself to remember the impenetrable darkness she had endured for so many centuries. She would pay a high price to appease the dictates of her newly aroused appetite.
Without tasting a single bite, she ate her meal. She thought she and Parker spoke of ordinary things, of the horses he was training, of Kevin and Amy, and how they were adjusting to their new home. But she couldn’t be sure. His words blurred, like her vision, obscured by the veil of her fears.
The blessed light shone brightly from the ceiling, filling the dark corners of the kitchen, casting appealing shadows across Parker’s face. Outside, the storm rumbled closer. Temptation vibrated through her body with the low-throated sound of thunder.
If only she could cast a spell strong enough to protect herself from Rasheyd. But she had not the power.
Hastily she cleaned the dinner dishes.
“Nesrin, is there something wrong?” He snared her by the arm, his fingers long and tan and strong as they sank gently into her flesh.
“No.” Oh, yes, her heart cried. Life was too unfair, and living it too precious. “I am tired. I thought I would go to bed early.”
“I thought maybe we could...” His voice trailed off, low and suggestive.
She forced a refusal from her throat.
“No. I have to—”
Bolting from the kitchen, she fled through the house and up the staircase to her room. She had not submitted, she thought with relief flooding through her. She had not risked eternal darkness—and though she cursed the oracles, she hated herself for the weakness of her spirit. If Parker was the man she loved—and she did not for a moment question that knowledge—then she should trust that his powers far exceeded those of an evil wizard. But if she was wrong...
She shed her clothing, dropping bits and pieces onto the floor helter-skelter, and slipped into her sleeping garment. The fabric fell sensuously along the length of her body, stroking her flesh in the same way she wanted to feel Parker’s hands moving over her.
In a transparent lie, she assured herself these needs that so consumed her would pass come the dawn.
The pace of the storm quickened.
Lightning left its jagged mark in the night sky, and thunder followed almost before the image faded.
The bed light flickered.
She pulled back the blankets. If she slept, temptation would not—
The room went dark.
Instantly and completely, everything was black. Empty. A void filled with only the crashing sound of thunder, and Nesrin’s cry of terror.
She raced out of the room, into the darkened hallway and right into Parker’s arms. He was warmth and strength, and she knew he was the light her soul had searched for during all those centuries of loneliness.
“Don’t be afraid, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms securely around her. “It’s only the storm.”
“Darkness has always frightened me.” She trembled against him.
“I’ll get you some candles.”
It was his light she needed, not a flame that quickly withered in the slightest breeze. “I am fine, now that you are holding me.”
“If Rusty hadn’t messed with the generator, I could get the power back on. As it is, we may be without juice for a while. I think the transformer may have taken a hit.”
Nesrin realized Louanne was right. Love must surely be a talisman to any evil spell, however powerful. She need not fear. Parker, and her love for him, would protect her from eternal darkness.
She slid her hands up his chest and framed his unseen face between her palms—familiar features she needed no light to see. Evening whiskers roughened his jaw. Raising on tiptoe, she found his lips with hers. As they kissed, their bodies collided ever so lightly—soft breasts to unyielding chest.
He drew her closer. The sheer fabric of her gown brushed against the coarse denim of his jeans as they stood thigh to thigh. Heat spread from one to the other.
She sighed softly, opening to the gentle probe of his tongue. Like a parched desert traveler lost in the wilderness, his flavor refreshed her.
He groaned. “Nesrin, honey, if you keep this up I can’t be responsible for what happens.”
The need in his voice warmed and liquified Nesrin’s insides. He too felt the magic that flowed between them—mystic magic older than time, yet as new as morning dew moistening secret petals with desire.
“This is a thing that is meant to be,” she said in a whisper against his lips.
“You’re sure, Nesrin? I have to know this is what you want.”
“Yes.” If need be, this was the memory she wanted to carry with her back into the darkness.
Parker scooped her into his arms. He didn’t need a light to know she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. Or to admit he’d never wanted a woman more than he wanted Nesrin. But he was greedy. He wanted to see her, wanted to watch her expression as they made love the first time. He wanted to savor every instant of her passion.
In a few quick strides, he carried her down the hallway and into his bedroom. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he settled her on her feet, letting her slide down his body so that she could feel the hard evidence of his arousal.
She gasped softly.
Releasing her, he said, “There’s a candle on the dresser.”
He struck a match. The mirror reflected the flame’s glow, as did Nesrin’s dark eyes. His hand shook when he touched the match to the wick. Incredibly, his control was already teetering on the edge.
She reminded him of a dream. The filmy gown she wore made her appear insubstantial. But she was real. Hot and eager even in her innocence. The combination fired his imagination. His body throbbed with increasing desire. He vowed as he lifted the gown from her slender body that this would be no quick coming together. He would take care.
The candlelight gilded the soft curves and valleys of her body in a warm glow. He loosened the tie that held her hair back, and shifted the luxurious curtain over her shoulder, teasing himself as he hid one delicate breast from his view. Dipping his head, he kissed the breast he had left bared.
Her trembling response shuddered through him.
“You’re lovely.” His husky words were a mere whisper.
“I am glad I please you.”
“Oh, yeah, you please me very much.” So much it hurt.
He tugged his shirttail from his pants, and when his fingers went suddenly clumsy, she helped him undo the buttons. He would have been happy enough to rip the buttons off, but her untutored efforts were a sweet torture of denial.
With her palms, Nesrin eagerly explored the light furring of hair on Pa
rker’s chest. The curls were more silken than she had imagined, yet masculine in the way they roughened his skin. She found his nipples. They pebbled beneath her hands, much as her breasts were growing fuller at his touch. Fascinating. Erotic.
He lifted her again, placing her gently on his bed. Unclothed, skin against skin, they lay together, and the journey he led her on was more sensual with each new discovery. Nesrin was beyond fear, beyond reason. She responded to Parker’s coaxing and his fiery kisses with such intense pleasure, her world contracted to a single focus. Parker. His hands. His lips. The talent of his tongue.
He laved her nipple and the heat of the velvet texture sent flames licking through her body more intense than the radiance of a desert sun. His hand spread across her belly, then his fingers dipped lower to that sensitive spot where she ached.
She arched against him. At the back of her throat, she made soft, wordless sounds. Hungry murmurs, like a woman starved for a sweet taste of the banquet he offered.
His tangy flavor intoxicated her senses. She was drunk on the forbidden need she now wanted to savor.
When she thought she could endure no more, he rose above her. She grabbed at his shoulders. She kneaded masculine flesh with her fingers, explored muscles and sinew, mapping the rugged landscape and committing every plain and valley to her memory.
“Please,” she pleaded, though she could not yet fully understand what she sought. She knew that only release from this sweet torment would assuage the hunger of her soul.
“Go slow, Nesrin...I don’t want to hurt you.”
When he hesitated, when the pressure built to an intolerable level, she arched upward. The pain of his penetration, mixed with the explosive joy of release, slicing through her in dual prongs of happiness. Through all eternity she would remember this moment.
Nesrin’s cry of pleasure catapulted Parker over the brink. Watching her in the throes of completion brought him more satisfaction than he had ever before experienced. His release, matched so closely with hers, stunned him with its ferocity. Shudder after shudder rippled through his body, and he felt Nesrin’s answering response.
The Cowboy & The Belly Dancer (Heartbeat) Page 10