Hold Back The Dawn

by Duncan, Judith

"Last night was so very special," he murmured. "I woke up once during the night and you were so warm and trusting as you slept in my arms. It was so beautiful. I've never experienced such a feeling of total contentment ever before."

  His sincerity, his candidness ignited a warmth in Leslie, filling her with an impassioned longing to give him the kind of contentment, the feeling of completeness that they had both experienced the night before. She shifted her head and kissed the curve of his neck, her lips lingering against his smooth warm skin.

  Catching her face in his hands, Steve turned toward her, his eyes smoldering with a fevered look. "Leslie—don't."

  She smoothed her trembling fingers across his soft sensuous mouth. "I love you, Steve. Nothing matters but you." She stroked his lips as a light flush colored her cheeks. "And you don't have to worry about there being any risk—not right now.''

  He gritted his teeth and drew in a deep breath before he spoke. "You are so hard to resist...you arouse feelings in me I can't control."

  With tantalizing lightness she caressed the tense muscles along his jaw, her voice low with a meaningful intimacy. "I want to lose myself to you. Like I did when you were loving me...when you were in me.''

  Steve crushed her against him with unbridled passion. "Ah, Leslie, you cause such a storm in me." His mouth covered hers in a deep searching kiss as he molded her hot yielding softness against him.

  His breathing was labored when he tore his mouth away from hers. "I need you. God, how I need you." When he pulled her on top of him, she melted against his aroused body like hot wax as he reclaimed her mouth.

  There would be no denial, no restraint this time, for the fire of desire was raging out of control, and it could only be quenched by the pounding waves of total fulfillment.

  THAT CLANDESTINE AFTERNOON and their intimate hours together turned out to be a special gift from the gods. From the following day on, it seemed as though there was a conspiracy against them.

  The other two rigs arrived in Grande Prairie, but the foul weather and the heavy snowfalls seriously hampered their transportation to the drill sites. Nearly 120 loads of equipment, twenty-five tons each, had to be hauled in by enormous diesel trucks. It was a constant battle to try and keep the rig roads clear, and on more than one occasion a powerful D-6 Caterpillar tractor was used to drag a truck, load and all, through miles of packed drifts.

  Consequently, Leslie rarely saw Steve during the next week, and when she did, it was usually very briefly at mealtimes.

  Then problems developed with the mud-logging equipment, and that meant a heavier work load for Leslie. The additional work brought with it an unexpected bonus, though. Steve and Ted were practically never at Ramco Two, and Leslie found herself relying more and more on Frank Logan's vast practical experience. The more time she spent with the gruff tool push, the more she liked him. He possessed a droll sense of humor that delighted her, and though he was not formally educated, he was unquestionably an expert in his field.

  At first Frank viewed her interest cautiously, but when he realized that Leslie was truly anxious to learn all she could, his attitude toward her relaxed. He took her under his wing and Leslie's field education began in earnest.

  She sometimes had the uncomfortable feeling that Frank viewed her with the ill-disguised pride of a father watching his firstborn learning to walk. In spite of that, however, a solid friendship developed between them.

  Steve was unaware of how the professional relationship between Frank and Leslie had flourished. He assumed that there was still a guarded restraint between them, and it wasn't until one day during dinner that he discovered how wrong he was.

  They were sitting at the table, finishing their dessert, when he casually mentioned that since the other two rigs were finally on site, he would have more time to spend at Ramco Two. Since he would be on location more regularly, he would be able to look after the problems with the mud logging.

  Frank stared at Steve, then growled, "Les ain't a dummy, you know. She knows what she's doin'."

  The stunned look on Steve's face was something to behold, and Leslie had all she could do to maintain a straight face.

  When Frank continued with, "Me and Les can manage jest fine," Leslie had to excuse herself and leave the kitchen.

  As Christmas came closer, her uneasiness over her possible exposure was overshadowed by her nervousness about meeting Steve's family. She desperately wanted them to like her, but she was so shy and reserved with strangers that she was terrified they would see her as aloof. She was totally at ease when she and Steve visited the Jansens, and she was now casually and unquestionably accepted as one of the team at Redwillow. The thought of facing Steve's family left her quaking inside, however.

  Leslie's personal worries were compounded by added demands at work. They had drilled into the Cardium formation and encountered severe underground pressures. The crisis was further complicated when the mud man, a contractor, fouled up the weight of the mud, and the drilling fluid was too light to counteract the formation pressure. There were several tense hours while a gas bubble was circulated up and safely flared. By the time the nerve-racking ordeal was over, Leslie was exhausted and edgy.

  It was very late in the evening when Steve arrived at the geologist's shack and found Leslie still hunched over her work counter, her face pale and drawn.

  "I thought I told you to go to bed,'' he said quietly, removing his parka and boots.

  Leslie shrugged wearily as she slipped down from the stool and came toward him.''I just had a couple of samples to log, that's all. Would you like a coffee?''

  He took her face in his hands and tipped her head back so he could study her. "No, I don't want a coffee, and neither do you. You're going straight to bed before you drop in your tracks." He combed his fingers slowly through her hair, then kissed her tenderly on the forehead. "Go on, Les—off you go. I'll shut off the lights and lock up for you."

  Slipping her arms around his waist, she rested her head on his chest and blinked back the tears of weariness that were burning her eyes. Just this once she wished he could stay, that she could seclude herself in the insulating safety and comfort of his arms.

  Steve hooked his knuckles under her chin and lifted her face. Their eyes met and held, his steady gaze penetrating the barrier of her silence.

  There was a very husky tremor in his voice when he murmured, "Go on—get into bed, and I'll be there in a minute."

  When Steve finally appeared at the bedroom door, Leslie was sitting in the middle of the bed brushing her hair, unaware that he stood silently watching her. She had on a charming old-fashioned nightgown that was delicately patterned with dainty pink rosebuds, the collar, cuffs and yoke liberally trimmed with lace. She looked very young, very innocent, and so very fragile.

  He breathed her name and she turned to face him. A heady excitement percolated through her as she stared at him, her wide dark eyes revealing her innermost emotions.

  He had taken a shower, and his long, powerful naked body gleamed bronze in the soft light, the beads of water on his shoulders glimmering like jewels. There was a charged enchantment radiating between them, and their surroundings seemed to fade away into nothingness, leaving only the two of them caught in a web of magic.

  Slowly he came toward her, his eyes never leaving hers as he took the brush from her nerveless fingers and tossed it on the floor.

  Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he began undoing the buttons at her throat, his touch like a current of electricity, sensitizing her, arousing her.

  Leslie closed her eyes, her breathing suddenly labored as she tried to draw air past the golden heaviness that was unfolding in her chest. His hands were tender, awakening, as he slipped them up her body, stripping the garment from her. A low moan was wrung from her, and she swayed toward him as he gently cupped her breasts in his hands.

  "Look at me, Leslie," he whispered huskily. Taking a deep shaky breath, she opened her eyes. Immediately the fever that she witnessed in his gaze inv
aded her body. He eased over on the bed until his back was firmly propped against the pile of pillows, his legs stretched out before him. The muscles across his shoulders and chest rippled as he grasped her and lifted her on top of him, her legs straddling his. The profound intimacy of the embrace sent desire coursing through her like hot liquid, dissolving her thoughts, her strength, her will, paralyzing her with a need so fierce that she was helpless against it.

  She raked her fingers roughly through his thick hair and clutched his head against her as his warm moist mouth captured her breast. An ache grew deep within her, throbbing through her with an erotic pulse.

  Her hands became urgent as she caressed his shoulders, his back, her body moving sensuously against his as he continued to torment her.

  A spasm shot through her as he slowly entered her and a feeling of frantic helplessness filled her when he grasped her hips, preventing her from moving to the turbulent tempo that was pounding through her blood.

  His arm came around her and held her immobile as he pressed her head down, his lips tantalizingly light against hers. "We have the whole night, love—the whole night,'' he whispered roughly.

  Her arms tightened around him, her voice tremulous with suppressed passion as she murmured against his lips. "I don't think I'll last the whole night."

  He slid his mouth down her neck, his tongue leaving an agonizing trail against her heated skin. "I'm going to make love to you until neither of us can stand it any longer."

  His words were like a spark in dry tinder, and she was caught in the blaze. She melted against him, her body twisting seductively as she settled her weight on top of his.

  She felt him tremble as he crushed her against him, his voice low and ragged. "Oh, Leslie, Leslie—you don't know how I want you." He covered her mouth with a flaming hungry kiss that engulfed her with an ardent obsession, fusing their bodies together in its white-hot heat.

  It was a long time later that they lay together, their passion spent, the embers of contentment glowing within them. Leslie was still sprawled on top of Steve, their arms around each other, their legs intertwined.

  He slipped his hands up her back, pressing her closer against him as he sighed, "It's going to be so good to get away from here for a while. I'm counting the hours until we leave for Christmas. We both need some time together without trying to maintain a distance all the time.''

  The qualms about meeting his family assailed Leslie, and she tensed against the apprehension that chilled her.

  Steve caught her shoulders and eased her away from him, his eyes questioning as he looked up at her. "You aren't worrying about that, are you?"

  As usual, his perceptiveness caught her off guard and Leslie lowered her eyes as she tried to think of a way to evade his question.

  He spanned her jaw with his hand and lifted her face. "What's the matter, Les? I want you to tell me."

  She made a disconcerted little grimace as she looked at him with solemn eyes. "I know it sounds totally ridiculous, but I'm scared stiff to meet your family. It's so important that they like me, and I know I'll be struck dumb with shyness.''

  "So, what's wrong with being shy?"

  "Nothing, I suppose. It's just that..."

  Steve raised his head and kissed her parted lips, then smiled up at her, his eyes dancing. "First of all, my sweet, it's not one damned bit important if my family likes you or not. What is important is that I like you." His own smile broadened as he saw the beginning of a grin tugging at Leslie's mouth. "Furthermore, I think I should give you a preview of what's happening at home right now. My mother is in a fluster about your coming, worried silly that everyone will act like uncivilized barbarians while you're there. She will have scoured the house from stem to stern and baked everything imaginable, hoping that she'll have prepared at least one thing that's your favorite. Then there's the trauma of deciding whether you'll be more comfortable upstairs in Donna's old room, or in the guest room on the main floor.''

  A sparkle of amusement had been growing in Leslie's eyes at Steve's account, and her fears fell away as laughter bubbled up. "I think you're making this up, Steve McRory!"

  He grinned. "It's the truth—every word."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Positive. Would I lie to you?"

  "I don't know. Would you?"

  "Never." The humorous gleam in his eyes softened into a warm irresistible look that made Leslie weak inside. "And here's another little-known truth for you." He laid his hand on her cheek, his touch caressing. "Do you know that I've discovered I have a definite weakness for dimples? Every time you smile at me, I want to drag you off and kiss you senseless.''

  A blush colored Leslie's cheeks. Steve laughed softly as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She glanced down at him; then with an impish challenge that could not be misconstrued, she gave him a slow provocative smile that deliberately flaunted her dimples.

  Steve's expression changed abruptly, and the sparkling blue of his eyes changed to a smokey gray as he stared at her. Leslie's breathing became erratic when he caught the back of her head and gave her a deep searching kiss.

  Leslie clung to him, her body infused by a tingling weightlessness as she became acutely aware of the virile masculine body beneath hers. A shiver trembled through her as the potency of his kiss kindled a heated response within her.

  With a muffled oath, Steve pulled his head away and pressed her face roughly against his neck. "Oh, Les—you do drive me crazy. I don't know how in hell I'm going to keep my hands off you when we're at home."

  Leslie hadn't even considered that aspect, and sighing softly, she raised her head and gazed down at him. "I hadn't even thought of that."

  He smiled wryly, his eyes filled with regret. "But you do understand why, don't you?"

  She ran her fingers through the thick matting of hair on his chest, then slipped her hand along his neck. Her eyes were solemn as she nodded. "We'll be in your parents' home, and we have their values to respect. And then there's your kid sister...we'll be setting an example for her."

  He sighed as he nestled her against him, and buried his hand in her hair. "That's right. So for heaven's sake, don't give me any kind of encouragement. It's going to be tough enough as it is."

  "I don't think I'm going to be very good at this, Steve—having to do one thing when I want to do the exact opposite."

  He laughed then, his voice rich with amusement. "I do believe, Leslie Kairns, that I detect a hint of rebellion in that statement." He stroked her head, then whispered huskily in her ear, "But it does do wonders for my male ego to know that you aren't exactly reluctant to come to my bed."

  Leslie shivered, but not from cold, and her body was infused with a familiar warmth as she felt his arousal beneath her.

  "I love you, Steve...so much," she whispered brokenly.

  His eyes were smoldering as he turned her face so he could look at her. "It seems like such an incredible miracle that you do. I can't quite believe it." He claimed her mouth with a kiss that was searing in its intensity, and Leslie responded—but not before the cold reality of her deception focused in her mind. Her passion was fed by her fear.

  Please believe it, she pleaded silently as she moved against him. When you find out the truth about me, please believe that I love you, above all else.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  LESLIE STOOD BEFORE THE WINDOW in her lab, a cup of steaming coffee in her hand, surveying the rig site. There had been several heavy snowfalls over Christmas, and now enormous mountains of dirt-pocked snow were piled along the boundaries of the lease. A thick sparkling crust of hoarfrost covered everything, and the brilliant sunlight fired the crystals with icy fire. It was so beautiful.

  She rested her head pensively against the frame of the window, her eyes suddenly blind to the outside world. She was feeling oddly disjointed this morning.

  On the one hand, she was really glad to be back at Redwillow, back in the swing of things. But on the other, she was feeling despondent that her
delightful carefree interlude with Steve was over.

  The ten days she'd spent at the McRory ranch had been fantastic. Never had she experienced such warmth, such complete happiness in her whole life.

  They had arrived on the Sunday before Christmas, and Leslie had been petrified when she was unexpectedly confronted with Steve's entire family—grandparents, parents, brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews.

  Her knees had wobbled uncontrollably, and there was a quaver in her voice when Steve introduced her to everyone. The warm security of his arm around her shoulders insulated her from the acute terror she expected to feel, however.

  By the time they sat down for Sunday dinner, Leslie was feeling a little less timid, but her self-confidence was still very shaky. Then two things happened that swept away her shyness.

  One of Steve's nephews was a handsome little three year old. Jeff was very tired and cranky during dinner, and absolutely nothing his mother did could pacify him. With exasperated weariness, Donna finally lifted her son out of his high chair and turned him loose in the hope that he would find something to amuse himself with. But Jeff wasn't satisfied with that, either. He stood at the fringe of the group, a sullen look on his face as he glowered at everyone.

  No one else took much notice of the sulky little boy, but Leslie's heart went out to him. Quietly and unobtrusively, she set about to charm the little fellow out of his dark mood, and it didn't take her long to worm a reluctant smile out of him. Step by step he edged closer to her. When Leslie motioned to him, Jeff hesitated only a second before he came to her and willingly scrambled onto her lap.

  No one else was aware of the little byplay except Steve, and he had a warm knowing grin on his face as Leslie cuddled the little boy against her.

  He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "It's a good thing he's too young to appreciate all your charms, Leslie Kairns."

  Leslie blushed and tried to smother a smile. She glanced up to find Steve's father, Hal McRory, watching them, a broad grin on his face.