by Tami Hoag
It was a perfect haven. Kelsie felt guilty she hadn’t been enjoying it and resolved not to let her brooding ruin their time here. She turned her gaze out the window to the moon-silvered evening, the ethereal glow of ice on the river, the pristine whiteness of snow on the fields.
“Too bad I don’t know how to ski,” she said, looking over her shoulder at Alec. “I bet they have some lovely cross-country trails here.”
“They do, but you wouldn’t have gotten to see them,” he said, a smile threatening to spread across his face.
“Why not?”
“Because, sweetheart, I have no intention of letting you out of this room until checkout time.” His true intentions burned like dark fires in his eyes.
Kelsie felt her body react immediately. It never ceased to amaze her how in tune they were physically. One look, one word from him, and everything inside her went into meltdown. “Alec,” she whispered, arching back against him like a wanton cat, “you are wicked.”
“Thoroughly,” he agreed, lowering his mouth to hers for a deep, leisurely kiss.
He had no intention of making use of the elegant dining room downstairs. They had seen all of the rest of the inn they were going to see on the tour. Their dinner was delivered to their door, announced by a discreet ring of a small bell, and left in the hall on a serving cart.
“I arranged for all our meals to be brought to our room,” he said, wheeling the cart to the table.
“Al-ec!” Kelsie said, mortified. “What will the Lancasters think? They’ll think we came here only for—for—”
“We did,” he said with a grin, dimples flashing as he pulled her into his arms. She had begun to change clothes to go downstairs, so her oversized chambray shirt was hanging loose and unbuttoned, revealing the top half of a lace-edged royal blue teddy. Alec dropped one knee to the seat of a chair and bent his head to nuzzle her barely concealed breast.
Kelsie melted into the heat of his mouth and reprimanded him all at once. “Alec, stop that. If we get sidetracked now, we’ll never eat this meal, and the innkeepers will know why.”
“Honey, I’m sure they have better things to do than wonder about the sexual habits of all their guests,” he said, staring fascinated at the way her hardened nipple peeked at him through the lace of her teddy. “Why should it bother you anyway? We’re consenting adults.”
“Because,” she said primly, “good Norwegian Lutheran girls aren’t raised to run off with men for hanky-panky.”
“Oh, really?” he asked dryly. He slipped the tip of his tongue inside the edge of her teddy and flicked it across the taught tip of her breast. “Then what are you doing here?”
She gasped. Of its own volition, one hand lifted to bare her breast for his sensual ministrations, and cup it to give him better access. Breathlessly she replied, “We’re not immune to temptation.”
“Praise be.” Alec groaned against her soft, hot skin. He sucked her breast until she was moaning and withering in his arms, then he lifted his head and stood up, announcing in a cheery tone, “Dinnertime!”
Kelsie gave him a look that managed to combine disbelief, desperation, and a trace of humor. She shook a finger at him. “Just you wait, Alexander McKnight.”
The devil himself couldn’t have come up with a more suggestive smile than the one Alec gave her. “I am,” he said, catching her hand and drawing it to the straining front of his jeans.
A thrill shot through Kelsie. He was denying them both for the moment, so their anticipation could build. If hers built much more, she was going to explode, she thought as she slumped down on the chair.
Dinner conversation was minimal, provided mainly by the occasional monologue of the radio announcer between segments of music on the classical station. Kelsie and Alec were too busy concentrating on each other and the sweet, hot tension thickening the air around them.
She found her attention drawn to his hands. They were well tended. Elegant. They were so finely shaped, they were nearly feminine. An artist’s hands. Or a musician’s. Thoughts of the beautiful music they could make on her body sent a rush of heat through her.
Alec couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth. He could never get over how soft it looked—how soft it was. It was beautifully sculpted, not too wide or too small or too full or too thin. In short, it was the most kissable mouth he knew. Thoughts of how giving it was when he kissed it, how pliant and welcoming and warm and sweet it was beneath his, had him shifting uncomfortably on his chair.
They did little justice to the excellent meal of delicately seasoned wild duck on a bed of wild rice. The carafe of wine was emptied by half without either of them having tasted a drop.
When they gave up on the meal, Alec wheeled the tray with their dishes on it into the hall. He stepped back into the room, closed the door and locked it, then sauntered over to where Kelsie stood next to her chair watching him with wide eyes.
“Now,” he said in a low, silky voice, lowering one knee to the chair as he had earlier. “If I remember right, we left off right about here.”
He did indeed take up where he’d left off, lavishing attention on Kelsie’s small, proud breasts. Deliberately closing her mind to anything else, Kelsie let passion fill her, let it flow from her in every touch as she caressed his strong shoulders and back. They could deal with the problems in their relationship later. Tonight she would love him with no reservations, without holding back. She would love him with her body and her soul, and pray that it would be enough.
They abandoned their clothes at the table where the candles from dinner had guttered and gone out. Alec led her to the softly lit alcove that housed the Jacuzzi, and they both sat on the edge of the sunken tub of churning water. He stepped down into the silky warmth, turning back toward Kelsie as if he meant to help her in, but when she started to slide forward, he stopped her with his hands on her knees.
“Alec?” she questioned softly.
His gaze intent on her face, he parted her thighs and stepped between them. “Lie back, sweetheart. Let me love you.”
She did as he asked, leaning back, supporting herself with her hands as he bent his head. Gently his fingers opened her and he kissed her intimately, his mouth moving against her in a gentle, languid rhythm, his tongue stroking the essence of her. His name coursed through her brain, but Kelsie was uncertain she said it aloud. An inner fire was consuming her, roaring in her ears; flames of desire that were not extinguished by the waves of ecstasy pouring over her.
Then the intangible waves of sensation became tangible waves of warm liquid. Alec drew her down into the tub with him, catching his lower lip between his teeth as his hardness penetrated her soft, tight warmth. He held her, his breath coming in sharp, staccato gasps, and watched her face, and knew a sudden panic deep in his chest.
“I love you.” His voice was a gravel-edged rasp. “Love me, Kelsie,” he pleaded.
“I do,” she whispered, her gaze locked on the tortured expression he wore. “More than you know.”
Later, they lay in the big brass bed, making love under the skylight, showered in the light of the moon and a million diamond-cut stars. Alec braced himself on his forearms, meeting the urgent thrusts of Kelsie’s hips with slow, deep strokes. They found heaven together—a brilliant flash that made the stars above them pale in comparison—and Alec eased himself down on top of her and whispered so softly she almost didn’t hear him, “Need me, Kelsie.”
I do, she thought, holding him tight. More than I should.
TEN
“GOOD MORNING, BEAUTIFUL,” a sleep-roughened voice said in her ear. Warm lips kissed her shoulder as a hand slipped over the curve of her hip to rub her tummy.
“Liar,” Kelsie said, forcing a chuckle. “I know exactly what I look like in the morning—bad enough to scare Stephen King.”
“Let me see,” Alec said, turning her over on her back. “I’ve got a strong stomach.”
“Very funny,” she said, trying to push her mussed hair out of her face.
His smile changed to a look of concern as he traced a forefinger along the violet smudges beneath her eyes. “Didn’t you sleep well?”
“As I recall, I was busy with other things most of last night,” she answered. She hadn’t slept at all, but had lain awake, her thoughts churning around and around until she’d given herself a headache.
Alec, on the other hand, looked remarkably well-rested and impossibly virile as he leaned over her. His dark hair tumbled roguishly onto his forehead, his morning beard shadowed his jaw. His mouth eased into a wide, lazy smile. “Oh, yeah. I remember.”
He fell onto his back, pulling Kelsie into his arms so she snuggled beside him with her head in the hollow of his shoulder. “It felt so good to hold you all night,” he said, kissing her hair. “We’ll have to do this more often, right?”
“Right,” she agreed with false conviction. He heard it, too, and started to sit up. Before he could question her, though, a bell sounded outside their door.
“Must be breakfast,” Kelsie said brightly, popping out of bed. She threw on her white silk robe and belted it on the way to the door. “I don’t know about you, but I’m famished.”
She wheeled in a cart laden with platters of fresh fruit, eggs, and meats, and a stoneware crock full of steaming hot muffins. Vaguely acknowledging the wonderful aroma, she abandoned the cart to answer the telephone.
Alec watched her with wariness in his eyes as he climbed out of bed and tugged on a pair of gray sweat pants. This morning she didn’t seem like the Kelsie he’d made love to most of the night. Barriers that had been nonexistent in the dark had been hastily resurrected before dawn. She was pulling away from him. Why?
Padding barefoot to the table to pour himself a cup of coffee, he listened with interest to her end of the telephone conversation.
“Yes, I realize that… yes… oh, dear… no… no, of course, I understand… right… just calm down… I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Jeffrey? Elizabeth?” he questioned, concern knitting his brows.
“The Humane Society.”
Everything inside him went cold, then started boiling. “The what?”
Kelsie swallowed hard at the murderous look on his face. “The Humane—”
“I can’t believe you gave them this phone number! Kelsie, how could you?”
“I had to, Alec. I’m the vice-president, and the bazaar—”
“Bazaar!” he exploded. “Bizarre, that’s what this is! You let our weekend get interrupted for an update on a stupid bazaar?”
Kelsie glared at him, more than ready to vent some of her pent-up feelings. “It may not be important to you, Alec, but it’s a cause I believe in—”
“And we’re not?” he asked with an exaggerated shrug.
“Don’t be absurd,” she said. “Of course we are.”
“Oh, really? Where did you just promise to be as soon as you can? With me?”
Now it’s going to hit the fan, Kelsie thought, her whole body trembling in anticipation of something terrible. She felt as if they were being swept into dangerous flood waters, but were powerless to save themselves. “Mrs. Pollan-Ryan, the president, broke her hip playing broom ball last night, leaving no one in charge of the bazaar. I have to—”
“The hell you do,” he interrupted in a dangerous voice. At that moment he looked like a very dangerous man, his muscled bare chest heaving, his eyes as cold and glittering as sapphires.
“Alec, I have to go back,” she said.
“Why? Because you’re sure there’s no other person in the area that can handle it? Kelsie Connors, Superwoman, to the rescue, right?”
“Alec, I have to go back,” she said, trying her best to keep her voice steady. “They need me.”
He stood staring at her for a moment, his jaw working. Finally he said, “I need you too.”
Kelsie pressed her eyes shut, then took a deep shaky breath and let it out. “Alec, don’t do this.”
“Don’t what?” What was he doing? She was the one who was pushing them into dangerous territory, all for some ludicrous bazaar.
She glared at him through a sheen of tears. “We can come back here some other weekend.” Why am I being so stubborn about this, she wondered in the back of her mind. It wasn’t that important to her. Someone else probably could have done it, but she’d jumped at the chance as if she were afraid to be alone with Alec for another two days. Maybe she was.
“When?” he demanded. “Some weekend when there’s nothing going on with the Humane Society or the League of Businesswomen or the Over-achievers or any of the myriad other groups you cling to?”
“Cling to?” she said with a gasp, hurt and anger warring inside her. “I warned you ahead of time, Alec. I told you I didn’t have time, that I had responsibilities—”
“Responsibilities?” he questioned, his own hurt pushing him to say things he knew he shouldn’t. “Did it ever occur to you that you spread yourself so thin working for all these ridiculous groups because you’re afraid of responsibility? You’re afraid of the responsibility of committing yourself to a relationship. Your marriage flopped, and you’re too much of a coward to risk finding happiness with a man. You join everything there is to join to fill up your empty life.”
“That’s a vicious thing to say!” she shouted, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“It’s the damn truth!”
She turned away from him, angrily wiping at her tears, trying to get a handle on herself. Why did women always have to be the ones to cry during arguments? It wasn’t fair.
Behind her, Alec planted his hands on his hips and heaved a sigh, cursing under his breath. She’d pushed him into saying it. Maybe it had been cruel, but it had needed to be said. He was sick of trying to coax her out her self-imposed exile. It was time she saw what she was doing to herself and made a decision one way or the other.
But what if she decided against him, he wondered. He loved her. He didn’t want to lose her. He especially didn’t want to lose her over such a trivial thing as this bazaar. It was ridiculous. But this weekend was important to him. He hadn’t set out to make it a test of the depth of her feelings, but that was what it was turning into.
It made his stomach knot to think she was failing the test. He didn’t want to lose her. He loved her. He needed her.
He needed her to need him too. She had to need him more than she needed the Humane Society.
“Kelsie,” he said, his voice as raspy as a chain smoker’s. “Call them back and tell them to get someone else.”
She could hear “or else” ringing in her ears even though he hadn’t said it. A Christmas bazaar. What a stupid thing to be fighting over, she thought. But it represented much more to her than a fund-raiser for a worthy cause. Alec had no idea how much courage it had taken for her to push aside her shyness and join those “ridiculous groups.” When her marriage had ended, she had been so afraid. Becoming involved had been a big step in overcoming her fears. It had come to be a symbol of her independence.
What she heard him asking now was to choose between dependence and independence. If she gave up this small piece of her independence, wasn’t he going to ask for more and more? They were lovers, nothing more. He hadn’t talked about any kind of commitment between them; he’d made no promises. She hadn’t asked for or expected any. She had no guarantee he wouldn’t steal away her independence, then lose interest in her—like Jack had. She closed her eyes and remembered the fear and the cold emptiness, and knew she couldn’t go through it again.
Without another word to Alec, she crossed the room to her suitcase.
He could have refused to drive her back, Alec thought as he piloted the car toward the Twin Cities with a heavy foot on the accelerator, but what purpose would it have served? He could have refused to take her directly to the site of the bazaar, but that would have been childish and petty. Of course, he reflected, his jaw clenched at a stubborn angle, a man deserved to be childish and petty after getting dumped, but he would rise abov
e that. At least until he got home.
He couldn’t believe Kelsie was ruining their weekend over a stupid Christmas bazaar. He couldn’t believe they’d had such a dreadful fight over it. He couldn’t believe he’d lost her because of it. It all seemed unreal.
But lost her he had, and it didn’t come down to a benefit for homeless animals. It came down to the fact that she didn’t need him. When it came to making time for what was important, his name wasn’t at the top of her list. So it was probably just as well things had ended here. He’d already had his fill of relationships where he was nothing more than a convenience. He was tired of being the disposable McKnight in shining armor.
It would be a new year soon, a good time to start over. First he had to get through Christmas. He thought of the pearl necklace he’d bought Kelsie, reposing in its black velvet box in his sock drawer, and had to blink back a sudden mistiness in his eyes.
Kelsie crowded against the door on the passenger side of the car, a cramp in her neck from forcing herself to stare out the window so Alec wouldn’t see the constant battle she was waging against tears. If she couldn’t salvage anything else, she would try to salvage her pride. He’d said some ugly things to her. Maybe it was just as well their relationship was ending now, if he thought so little of her. She’d known from the start she shouldn’t have gotten involved with him. If only she’d had some defense against the potent combination of his wily charm and winning smile.
She pressed a mutilated tissue under her nose and bit her lip as a new wave of depression swept over her and fresh tears pressed hard against the backs of her eyes. They were breaking up over a Christmas bazaar! Christmas. Christmas was less than two weeks away. She thought of the sapphire-blue hand-knit sweater she’d bought for Alec and tucked away in a gift box in her closet where the cats couldn’t get at it. It would have gone so well with his eyes! She squeezed her own shut, tears still managing to spill over like water through a leaky dam.