Running From the Storm

by Lee Wilkinson

  He rose too, his face straight, his eyes devilishly amused. He queried, ‘Alone?’

  ‘Alone!’ she croaked.

  ‘Of course—if you’re sure that’s what you want?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure. But, as I’m nowhere near as tall as you, it would make more sense for me to sleep on the couch.’

  ‘I won’t hear of it.’

  ‘But I want you to have the bed,’ she insisted. ‘Otherwise I’d feel guilty.’

  He shook his head decidedly. ‘The only way I’m prepared to sleep in the bed is if you want to share it with me.’

  Seeing on her expressive face the return of her previous panic, he said carefully, ‘I meant platonically. I’m not trying to take advantage of the situation, and I’m noted for my self-control.’

  It was her own self-control she didn’t trust, rather than his, but she could hardly tell him that.

  ‘So, as soon as I’ve seen you safely tucked in, I’ll retire to my couch.’

  With a slight sigh, he added, ‘Though I frankly admit that I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any other woman …’

  Somehow she found her voice. Struggling to sound both amused and dismissive, she said, ‘I bet you say that to any girl who comes along.’

  ‘I won’t deny there have been other women, but the way I feel about you is different, unprecedented. The instant I set eyes on you, you affected me strangely, touched my heart …’

  He took a step forward, his voice low and intense. He murmured, ‘Though I didn’t really know you at all, I felt as if I did. As if, somehow, I’d always known you.’

  I know you too, she thought. I know you as if you were part of me.

  But he was going on. ‘You delight me, enchant me, and I’ve thought of little else but taking you in my arms and making love with you …’

  Gently he laid the flat of his hand against her cheek, and with a little murmur she turned her mouth into his palm. His other hand came up to cup her face and then his mouth was moving against hers.

  Their first kiss, a kiss they had both been waiting so long for, was a slow and gentle brushing of lips, but it said far more than either of them could have put into words at that moment.

  When he finally drew back, she was flushed and euphoric, and a glance at his face showed that everything she was feeling, he was feeling too.

  The realization was overwhelming, and it sent a charge like electricity running through her. Lips a little parted, she swayed towards him.

  With a hand at the back of her head, he drew that lovely face to his. Then his mouth was on hers once more, tasting, enjoying, lingering seductively, as though he could happily spend the rest of his life just kissing her.

  The quiet joy of it, the warmth and sense of belonging, the sweetness and passion, wound silken ribbons of need around her heart.

  Clearly he felt the same, because the romance and chasteness of his previous kisses flared into desire and sensuality.

  Every nerve-ending in her body came to life and her skin waited, longing for his touch, the blood running hot beneath it.

  Then his hands were inside her robe, following the elegant line of her spine, the dip of her narrow waist and the flair of her hips, before they moved upwards to caress her breasts through the soft cotton of the tee shirt she was wearing.

  She sighed and her head fell back, surrendering the long, elegant line of her throat to his lips …

  While he kissed her, he unfastened the robe and slipped it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor; an instant later, the tee shirt followed it. Swinging her up in his arms, he laid her gently on the couch.

  She was the loveliest thing he’d ever seen, with beautifully shaped breasts, a small waist, rounded hips and long, slender limbs. Her skin was flawless, smooth as satin and tempting to touch.

  The fire-glow turned her slender figure to the purest gold, and when he did finally touch her he felt like King Midas.

  Until that moment he hadn’t realized just how much he had to give, just how much he wanted to give this woman: everything he was, everything he had, everything he felt.

  Sitting on the edge of the couch, he ran his hands over her body as though it was rare and precious, something he would never get tired of exploring.

  Touch was cited as the most powerful of the senses, certainly the most seductive; as he stroked and caressed her, the last of her worries and concerns melted away and with a sigh her heavy lids drifted shut.

  Her obvious enjoyment fuelling his, he began to use his lips, mouth and tongue to find new ways to heighten her pleasure, while the taste and scent of her made him feel almost light-headed.

  His skilled fingers teasing one dusky-pink nipple, he took the other into his mouth and stroked the sensitive tip with his tongue before starting to suckle sweetly.

  She gave a throaty gasp and her whole body jerked convulsively as a shock of unaccustomed delight ran through her.

  While her breasts blossomed at his touch, his free hand travelled to the smooth skin of her inner thighs. When his long fingers began to explore the slick warmth with delicate

  precision, making little incoherent sounds deep in her throat, she tried to push him away.

  He drew back immediately. Taking a deep breath, he asked, ‘Is that a no? If it is, say so at once.’

  ‘No …’ she breathed.

  Disappointment sharp as shards of jagged glass slashed at him. Getting to his feet, he struggled hard to regain his self-control.

  As he reached for her robe, she opened her eyes and caught at his hand. ‘I meant no—it isn’t a “no”.’

  ‘It isn’t a no?’ he repeated. ‘So what is it?’

  ‘It’s a yes please.’

  ‘Then why did you push me away?’

  ‘It was so … So …’

  ‘You didn’t like what I was doing to you?’

  ‘Yes, yes, I did. It was wonderful.’

  Letting go of his hand, she pushed herself up into a sitting position before going on in a rush, ‘But so intense I just didn’t think I could stand any more at that minute.’

  His smile held both tenderness and relief. ‘Well, if that’s all, we can take things a tad slower …’

  CHAPTER SIX

  HE WAS bending his fair head to kiss her when his face clouded and in soft frustration he exclaimed, ‘Oh hell!’

  All at once on his wavelength, and impatient now, she said quickly, ‘It’s all right. For medical reasons I’m on the pill.’

  He nodded and kissed her, before saying teasingly, ‘Now, let’s see, where were we exactly?’

  Sounding breathless even to herself, she said, ‘About to take things a little slower.’

  ‘So where would you like to start?’

  Though still a little shy, she wanted to look at him, to see his body.

  ‘You’re still wearing your robe,’ she pointed out.

  ‘Well, that can soon be remedied.’ He untied the belt and tossed the robe aside.

  Standing before her, tall, straight and naked, he enquired, ‘Better?’

  But her mouth had gone dry and she could only gaze at him speechlessly.

  He was gorgeous, with wide shoulders, a trim waist, narrow hips, and strong, straight limbs. Fit and toned, without being muscle-bound, he carried not an ounce of spare flesh.

  Both his lower arms and his calves were covered with a fine scattering of short golden hair, but his broad chest was smooth and his clear, tanned skin held the gleam of health.

  Though normally the least vain of men, seeing the awe and pleasure she was feeling register on her face made him feel like Suleiman the Magnificent.

  ‘Seen enough?’ he teased.

  She blinked, as though coming out of a dream, and looked up.

  When he smiled at her, she smiled back, alluring as Lorelei. But he had promised to take things slowly, he warned himself.

  Stooping, he kissed her gently before sitting down beside her and taking her in his arms.

  For a while, as
the storm continued to rage outside, they just kissed, each anticipating all the delight still to come; then, growing impatient, she nipped his bottom lip provocatively.

  In response he deepened the kiss and, gathering her into his arms, carried her over to the bed. When she was settled beneath the lightweight duvet, he slipped in beside her.

  Starting where he had left off, he proceeded to pleasure her, whispering how sweet and innocently lovely she was, how desirable, how very much he wanted her.

  With a little murmur she drew him to her, her body welcoming his smoothly, ecstatically, as though it had been waiting a lifetime for just this moment.

  For a while after that first long, slow thrust, he simply lay, enjoying the feeling of her slender body beneath his.

  Filled with him, and eager for more, she moved her hips in an invitation as old as Eve. But when he finally moved there was no urgency; the pace was leisurely, luxurious, and they made love in a silence which only served to increase all the delicious sensations she was experiencing.

  Even when the momentum increased, it still seemed tantalizingly slow and erotic, until finally and together they reached the dazzling heights of physical pleasure before drifting back to earth.

  She had never known anything like this before, Caris thought with wonder. Their love-making had proved to be a joyful and complete experience.

  They had met and joined on every level—physical, mental and emotional. There were no words to describe such bliss, a bliss that encompassed both body and soul.

  Her eyes closed, lying quietly fulfilled, she cradled Zander’s fair head against her breast with an almost maternal tenderness.

  After a while he raised his head and, lifting himself away, he kissed her. ‘You’re very quiet. Are you all right?’

  She opened her eyes and smiled up at him, and in the faint glow from the stove and the dying lamp he read all he needed to know in her face—even before she answered with a slight chuckle, ‘Euphoric!’

  Human and male enough to feel a touch of triumph mingle with the satisfaction and happiness he was already feeling, he kissed her again. Then, brushing a strand of dark hair away from her cheek, he turned onto his back and gathered her close. She fell asleep almost immediately.

  Quietly content, he lay for a while breathing in the scent of her hair and enjoying the feel of her cradled in his arms.

  When he had said that this was different, unprecedented, he’d been speaking the exact truth. No woman—and he was no stranger to women—had ever made him feel this way or given him more pleasure

  His last thought before he too fell asleep was that she was everything he could have hoped for and more, and he owed fate a big debt of gratitude for the chance meeting that had thrown them together.

  Caris awoke to find the storm had passed in the night and the pale light of a quiet dawn was creeping beneath the curtains and filling the cabin.s

  She was stretched on her back. Zander was still sleeping, lying on his side, one arm across her midriff. In the unaccustomed silence, she could hear his quiet, even breathing.

  Last night had been wonderful. She hadn’t known love-making could be like that. With Karl it had always proved to be disappointing, and at first she had blamed herself and her own lack of experience.

  But after he had left her and moved on she had heard one of the other girls, a philosophy student, remark to her companion, ‘Oh, Karl was gorgeous and seemed exciting until I got to know him. Then I discovered that he was not only boring but selfish and shallow and uncaring, without a clue how to turn a woman on.’

  ‘I know exactly what you mean,’ her fellow student had agreed. ‘Apart from his looks, he was a dead loss. His idea of foreplay—had he ever heard of such a thing—would probably have been to say, “Brace yourself, sweetie”.’

  The two girls had laughed together before the second one had added half-jokingly, ‘Perhaps all he needs to change him is the love of a good woman.’

  ‘I’d be sorry for any woman who fell in love with him! In my opinion he’s emotionally bankrupt, incapable of loving anyone other than himself.’

  It had been a damning indictment, yet over the years the brief and ill-advised affair had continued to shame and haunt her.

  And now, after all her warnings to herself, she had ended up in another Lothario’s bed.

  She should be full of shame and regrets, castigating herself for allowing it to happen, but all she could feel was an intense, overriding joy …

  A tingle of awareness made her turn her head; sure enough, Zander was awake. She could see his green eyes gleaming through their thick curtain of dark-blond lashes.

  He smiled at her and, using the arm draped over her waist, turned her to face him. ‘Good morning.’

  Returning his smile a little shyly, she answered, ‘Good morning.’

  Reaching out a hand, he stroked her cheek. ‘Did I remember to tell you how beautiful you are?’

  His words, and the tenderness of the gesture, sent her floating up to cloud nine.

  But she did her best to keep her feet on the ground and objected, ‘I’m not really beautiful, merely average. And no one can look beautiful at this time in the morning.’

  ‘Wrong on both counts. When I first walked into your office, when I looked at you over a candlelit dinner table, when you sat in the sun-drenched kitchen at Hallgarth, your beauty took my breath away. And this morning it still does.’

  ‘Is this a line you shoot any woman who ends up in your bed?’

  ‘Only if her face is like a flower, she has hair as silky-dark as night and eyes the deep, pure blue of a summer dusk just before the fireflies come out. Only if she’s warm and sweet and feminine and a delight to make love to …’

  Watching her cheeks turn pink, he asked teasingly, ‘Am I waxing too lyrical for you? Would you prefer a more practical approach at this time of the day?’

  Gathering herself, she suggested lightly, ‘Try me and see.’

  Running lean fingers over his stubbly chin, he pretended to consider. Then with a straight face he enquired, ‘What would you say to an early-morning swim together? At this hour we’d have the lake to ourselves, so you wouldn’t need a costume.’

  She shuddered. ‘I do hope you’re joking?’

  ‘As a matter of fact, I am. To tell you the truth I had some other activity in mind that should be even more pleasurable …’

  ‘Oh?’ She raised an eyebrow at him.

  ‘And it doesn’t even necessitate getting out of bed,’ he added coaxingly.

  ‘Now, what can that be?’ she wondered aloud.

  ‘Allow me to show you.’

  If last night’s love-making had been threaded with poetry and a kind of awe, in the early morning it proved to be just as thrilling and even more erotic.

  His hand on the duvet, he enquired, ‘Warm enough?’

  ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘Because I’d very much like to be able to look at you while I make love to you, to watch your reactions and see how I make you feel.’

  His words sent a little quiver running through her. ‘Well?’

  ‘Yes, I’m warm enough.’

  Her whispered response earned her a kiss, an affectionate kiss, which in a moment became a kiss of mutual desire. A kiss full of sizzling lust.

  Pushing the duvet down, he turned her onto her back and let his hand explore her slender body, watching her nipples firm at his touch, her stomach clench, the shiver that ran through her when he reached the smooth skin of her inner thighs.

  But, though she was ready and eager, and his need for her was as explosive as a lightning strike, he still made himself take it slowly.

  Refusing to hurry, his mouth enjoyed and pleasured those waiting nipples before he moved up to the long sweep of her neck and let his lips linger there.

  Then, looking deeply into her eyes, he fitted himself into the waiting cradle of her hips, two bodies perfectly designed to become one.

  Still holding her gaze, he began to mo
ve. He heard her breathing quicken, saw the flush of excitement on her cheeks, the dazed pleasure in her eyes, and knew without a doubt that it was as good for her as it was for him.

  Neither of them spoke. There was no need for words as in perfect union they tumbled into a whirlpool of sensation.

  When at last their breathing and heartbeat slowed to a more normal pace, he lifted himself away; drawing her close, he settled her head comfortably on his shoulder.

  Utterly content, she snuggled against him and drifted off to sleep once more.

  The next time Caris opened her eyes the grey light of dawn had been replaced by bright sunshine, and she was alone in the bed. An enticing smell of fresh coffee hung in the air and the stove was burning brightly but there was no sign of Zander.

  She stretched luxuriously, and for a moment lay savouring the happiness that filled her while she thought of all the delight another day spent in his company would hold.

  Suddenly she couldn’t wait to see him, to go into his arms and lift her face for his kiss.

  She was halfway out of bed when she heard voices coming from the direction of the kitchen. One she recognized as Zander’s, the other was a man’s voice she had never heard before.

  Afraid that the owner of the strange voice might be coming in, she got back into bed and hastily pulled up the duvet to cover her nakedness. But when the kitchen door opened, only Zander appeared.

  He was dressed in light, casual trousers and a mulberry-coloured shirt, open at the neck, both of which had seen better days. His hair was damp and tousled as if he’d hastily rubbed it dry and left it, but somehow he still managed to look self-assured and coolly elegant.

  ‘So you’re awake.’ He came over to the bed and, sitting on the edge, gave her a light, fleeting kiss.

  Deciding to tease him, she grumbled, ‘That showed a distinct lack of enthusiasm.’

  He ran his fingers over his unshaven chin. ‘I realized I shouldn’t be inflicting this on you.’

  ‘I admit you look a bit like a caveman, but you can’t use that as an excuse. I quite like cavemen, and I like stubble.’

  ‘Do you really?’ he asked interestedly. ‘In that case …’ Pulling down the duvet, he began to nuzzle his face against her breasts.