by Metsy Hingle
So she hugged him to her, ran her hands down his back to his hips, exploring all those muscles, the hardness of bone, the fevered skin. She hadn’t known loving could be like this—this powerful, this huge, this wild. And she wanted all of it. She wanted all of him. Right here. Right now. She pressed her body against his, and showed him how much.
Blake tore his mouth free, gasped a breath. “Angel, slow down,” he told her, a fevered look in his eyes.
Slow down? He wanted her to slow down when every nerve in her body said to hurry? Had she been wrong? “But I thought—Don’t you want me?”
A growl came from deep in his throat. “Listen to me. Listen,” he repeated. “I want you, angel. There’s no question of that. But if we don’t slow down, it’s going to be over before we get started.”
He kissed her again, and this time the room tilted beneath her feet. Josie grabbed on to Blake, and when he released her mouth she was in his arms, being carried down the hall to the bedroom. No one had ever held her like this before, made her feel like a beautiful princess, made her feel cherished. That Blake did so now made up for all those years of wishes that never came true.
He nudged open the door with his foot. The lamp she’d left burning sprayed a shower of gold light across the bed. Carefully, as though he thought she was made of glass and might break, Blake laid her down on the bed. Then he kissed her again. This time softly. Tenderly. Slowly. One gentle kiss spun into another and then another and another still, until Josie was no longer sure where one kiss ended and the next one began. And as the kisses lengthened, deepened, she could feel herself hurtling down a dangerous path.
Life had taught her how painful loving someone could be. She’d learned self-preservation early in life and knew to protect herself by never loving too much, never giving all of her heart, just a corner of it. Those warning bells were going off in her brain now, telling her not to love Blake too much, to only give him that corner of her heart that she could afford to lose. But her survival instincts were no match for the need and loneliness she tasted in Blake’s kisses, that she felt in his touch. Instead of pulling back, she deepened the kiss and gave him all of her heart.
When Blake lifted his head and pushed himself up onto his elbows to stare down at her, Josie used the moment to look her fill. But looking wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. With a brazenness that should have shocked her, she reached out and touched him as she’d wanted to do from the first. She ran her fingertips down his shoulder over the fading bruise, traced a scar beneath his collarbone, followed the trail of deep gold hair down the center of his chest to his abdomen. When she hooked her thumbs inside the waistband of his pajama bottoms, he sucked in a breath. “Angel,” he said, his voice desperate. “If you have any doubts, now’s the time to say so. I’ll understand,” he told her. “I swear I will, and I won’t blame you. You don’t know who I am, what kind of man I am, what’s in my past.”
She pressed her fingers to his lips. “I know everything I need to know. You’ve shown me who and what you are in a hundred different ways already. You’re the man I want. The only man I want.” Reaching for the pajama bottoms again, she paused, tipped her gaze back to his for a moment. “Are we finished talking?”
He made a strangled sound in his throat and gasped when her fingers brushed his sex. “We’re definitely through talking,” he told her. Stripping the bottoms off, he tossed them to the floor. Then he was moving over her, kissing her again.
Lord, but the man knew how to kiss, she thought, as he nibbled his way from her mouth to her jaw, to her ear. Then those skilled lips of his were teasing her breasts, with a flick of his tongue, with the barest scrape of teeth. And while he kissed her, his equally skilled hands were always touching her in some way—a lazy finger tracing the curve of her breast, a sweep of his hand along her rib cage, a tender stroke down her abdomen to the inside of her thighs. He had her so thoroughly aroused that by the time he eased a finger inside her, Josie nearly exploded. Wave after wave of sensation washed over her, tossed her about in a stormy sea of pleasure, and when she cried out his name he swallowed it with his mouth, and continued to hold her in his arms until the storm passed.
When she was able to focus again, Josie looked up into those dark eyes of his, caught the gleam in them just before he swooped down and started kissing her senseless again. But two could play this game, she thought. Before he could send her flying solo again, she shoved him onto his back and made a serious attempt to drive him out of his mind.
She took her time, learning his body. She discovered another scar where his appendix had been removed, a ticklish spot below his ribs, that the inside of his thigh was ultrasensitive. She’d never realized lovemaking could be this way, this beautiful, this giving.
“Josie,” he said, his voice raspy. “You’ve got to stop, honey. I don’t have any protection in here. Let me go get my bag.”
She wasn’t about to let him up—yet. “We’ll improvise,” she promised and flicked her tongue down his hardened length.
The poor man nearly came unglued. “For Pete’s sake, angel, you’re about to drive me crazy!”
“That’s the idea,” she told him. Smiling, she circled him with her tongue, and proceeded to do just that.
Josie was driving him crazy, Blake admitted, several days later. The woman could almost make him believe his past didn’t matter. Who and what he’d been before Josie didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except being here with her and the twins, loving them, loving her. And he did love her, Blake admitted. He loved everything about Josie—from the way her eyes lit up when she was fussing over one of the twins, to the way she welcomed him into her bed and body at night. She was everything he wanted, everything he needed. And he wanted to be the man he was when he was with her, the man he was in her eyes. So why couldn’t he shake the feeling that he had to find his past, that he had to finish whatever it was that he’d left undone? And why did he have a sinking feeling that when he did find his past, he would lose Josie?
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Josie asked, breaking into his thoughts.
“What’s that?”
She turned from the kitchen window, and her smile dazzled him. “The sun,” she said, laughing. “I was beginning to think we’d never see it again.”
He pushed away from the table and came up behind her to stare out the window. Because he needed to touch her, he circled his arms around her and pulled her back against him. The touch of her bottom had him hard in an instant. “You’re right. It is wonderful.”
“Blake,” she said, shy surprise in her voice as he untucked her blouse. “It’s not even noon and we...it’s...”
“And it’s been almost six hours since I’ve been inside you, angel. Not good for a man in my condition.”
Her laughter turned into a sweet moan when he filled his hands with her breasts while he feasted on her neck. “A-and what condition is that?” she asked breathlessly.
“I’m an injured man. Remember?”
“Oh, yes. Your head. I almost forgot,” she told him turning into his arms and reaching for the buttons of his shut. “Want me to kiss it and make it better?” Capturing his face in her hands, she gave him a peck near the healing cut.
He frowned. “I’m still in a lot of pain.”
“You are? Does it hurt here?” she asked, touching his mouth with her fingers. He nodded, and she kissed his mouth. When she finally lifted her head, desire churned in his blood. “Better?”
“Yeah, but I’m still hurting,” he informed her, warming to the game.
“Really? Well, let’s see. Does it hurt here?” she asked, dropping a kiss on his jaw, then another one at his throat. By the time she’d worked her way down his chest to his stomach, his body was on fire.
When she reached the snap of his jeans, her green eyes were pure devil as she looked up at him and asked, “Still hurting? Well, I wonder what I can do to help ease that pain?”
“Oh, I can think of a thing or two,” he replied, then he wen
t on to show her.
And later when she lay beneath him on the rug in front of the fireplace, and he was sheathed in her warmth, Blake knew he had never loved her more. As he lost himself in the sweet miracle of making love to Josie, he shut off the questions about himself, about his past. And when her body moved in rhythm with his, racing toward the center of another powerful storm, all of his thoughts and concerns about the past and the world beyond Josie’s arms vanished.
Ten
Josie stood at the kitchen window and frowned at the sight of clear, blue skies and bright sunshine. The rain had stopped two days ago. The floodwaters that had isolated them at the farm had long since receded, and the roads had already been cleared of most of the debris from the storm. Even the temperatures had risen from frigid to cool, leaving just enough of a nip in the air to remind her that Thanksgiving was only two weeks away. And the beautiful weather had her as edgy as a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs.
How was it possible for her life to have been turned upside down in the space of two weeks? The answer was simple—Blake. Looking back, she wasn’t sure she’d ever stood a chance. She’d been a goner almost from the first time he’d called her angel. She loved him deeply, passionately and foolishly. Yet there had been times during the past few days when he’d held her and made love to her that she’d almost believed he loved her, too.
He didn’t, of course. And while she might be a romantic fool, she wasn’t stupid. Blake might want her, even need her, but he would never love her. Not a man like him. Losing his memory had shaken him. He’d been a lost soul in need of someone to hold on to during an emotional storm, and she had happened to be the one there. She had no regrets on that score. She could never regret what they’d shared. But she had no illusions, either. His memory was coming back, in bits and fragments that sometimes disturbed him, but he was dealing with it. Soon he would be whole again, and when he was he would no longer need her. He would go back to the life he’d lost. Back to a life that didn’t include her. Back to a life that included a woman more suited to him, a woman who was beautiful and special. Like him. She was neither. She was simply who she was—Josie. There wasn’t a thing wrong with being ordinary. She was happy with who she was and what she’d made of herself. But being an orphan had taught her that when it came to relationships, she had to be a realist. She’d been passed over enough times to know that a man like Blake would never choose her. The last thing she was going to do, Josie promised herself, was make a fool of herself by trying to hold on to him. She’d play it light, play it easy.
“We’re all set,” Blake said from the doorway. “The munchkins are all strapped in, buckled up and ready to go. You about ready?”
One look at the man, and Josie’s resolve turned to mush. There was nothing light and easy about the way he made her feel. She came up with a half-dozen reasons to cancel this trip into town. Then she shot every one of them down when she thought of the twins. They had to go, not just to arrange the tow of Blake’s car, but to replenish the severely diminished supply of baby food and diapers.
“Josie? Honey, you all right?”
Pride, her only ally so often in life, came to her rescue now. She pasted a smile on her face. “Sure. I was just checking to see if we had everything we needed before hitting the road.”
Blake eyed her skeptically, then walked over to her, tipped up her chin. “You sure nothing’s wrong?”
“Positive,” she lied. “We’d better get going.”
“In a minute. There’s something I need first.”
He kissed her. He rubbed his lips against hers gently, reverently, lovingly. When he lifted his head, Josie’s knees all but sagged, and her heart felt ready to burst.
“You sure we need to go into town today?” he whispered, running his hand down her back to cup her bottom. “I can think of another way I’d like to spend the day with you. In fact, I’ve been thinking about the things I’d like to do with you from the moment I saw you in that skirt this morning.”
Josie’s pulse jumped at the look in his eyes. She was tempted, sorely tempted to give in to the sudden flare of desire sparked by his kiss. Oh, how she wanted him, loved making love with him. But when she reminded herself of Blake’s needs and the needs of the twins, she knew her wants didn’t matter. “Does that mean you’re ready to deal with that alternative to disposable diapers that I mentioned earlier?”
The poor man went from lust to fear in a heartbeat. He caught her by the elbow and marched her toward the door. “You want to drive or should I?”
Blake drove. Instead of going to Royal, the closest town, she opted for Midland, which was in the opposite direction and a slightly longer drive. But it had been the direction from which Blake had been coming when he’d had the accident. Silently Josie admitted the other reason she’d chosen Midland was because she was still embarrassed over that crude drifter’s ‘sex-starved widow’ remark in the Royal Diner. She suspected several people had overheard him, including that good-looking Forrest Cunningham. And while it was cowardly, she just couldn’t face those people again now—especially with Blake. One look at her face, and they would’t have to wonder if she was still sex starved or not.
“There a particular reason you’re squirming in your seat, angel?”
Josie’s cheeks flamed.
“Never mind,” he said laughing. “I think I can guess. Besides, we’ll have to wait until we get home, anyway, since the town’s right up ahead.”
Josie’s heart tightened at his reference to “home,” and she immediately chided herself for reading anything into it.
“It’s just about lunchtime, and I seemed to have worked up an appetite these past few days,” Blake told her as they waited at a red light. “Do we have time to get something to eat? Or would you rather I arranged for the tow of my car and then have us hit the grocery store first?”
“Lunch sounds good to me,” she told him.
“Then lunch it is.”
Blake pulled into the parking lot of a diner and cut the truck’s engine. By the time Josie unstrapped her seat belt and started to open the door, Blake was waiting for her. The gesture surprised her, touched her deeply. She wasn’t used to having a man do nice, gentlemanly things for her, Josie admitted, as he took her hand and helped her down from the truck. That’s why her heart got such a full, achy feeling now. Her feet touched the ground, but when Blake didn’t release her, she tipped a glance up at him. The gleam in his eyes made her pulse sputter. Being the pirate he always reminded her of, he stole a kiss from her. And then he stole another, and another still, until he had her laughing and forgetting that he was only hers temporarily.
The fun mood lasted throughout lunch, where Blake had politely thanked the waitress who’d commented on their beautiful children. The remark had sent her romantic heart soaring like a bird and her head spinning with dreams. Oh, it was hard not to dream and fantasize with a man like Blake. He inspired dreams, had a way of making her believe those dreams could come true. Caught up in his festive mood, she allowed herself to pretend. That Blake would want to stay with her. That she and Blake and the twins could be a real family.
After arranging the tow of Blake’s car, they headed to the supermarket. We’re just like a family, Josie thought, as they laughed and joked while filling the shopping cart with baby essentials, food and indulgences. It pleased her beyond measure to discover Blake remembered her weakness for doublechocolate-fudge ice cream and to learn that he had a thing for oatmeal raisin cookies. By the time they reached the checkout line at the store, Josie couldn’t ever remember being happier. She had everything she’d ever wanted right here, right now. Her heart full of love and hope that this time the dream wouldn’t be snatched from her, she didn’t feel ordinary at all. She felt special. She felt loved.
With her confidence running high, Josie picked up the razor Blake had thrown into their cart. “You know, Blake, I’ve been thinking,” she teased, a smile curving her mouth. “I’ve kind of gotten used t
o that stubble of yours. How would you feel about growing a beard?”
When he didn’t answer, she turned toward him, and the smile froze on her lips. Something was wrong. Seriously wrong, given the look on his face. “Blake, what is it?”
He didn’t respond. His eyes remained locked on a tabloid he held clutched in his fists. She’d witnessed Blake in any number of moods these past two weeks-flirtatious and wicked, angry and frustrated, tender and loving. But never, never once during their time together had she seen him like this-so cold, so remote, so unfeeling. Josie moved beside him to see what had put that hard look in his eyes. Bracing herself, she read the headline, “Royalty in Texas?” She glanced at the photo of a dark-haired man, and stared into the coldest eyes she’d ever seen. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, Josie read the smaller typeset, “Prince Ivan Striksky of Asterland, who recently announced his engagement to Princess Anna von Oberland, was spotted in Royal, Texas....”
Confused, she shifted her gaze to the smaller photo—a fuzzy inset of a beautiful blond-haired woman in a gorgeous gown. Suddenly dread fisted in Josie’s stomach. Even in the blurry photograph the woman was breathtaking, and exactly the type of woman she could see with Blake. She glanced down at her own denim skirt, plain blouse and boots. She didn’t need a mirror to know that comparing herself to the princess was like comparing an alley cat to a Persian. Her throat tight, Josie forced herself to ask, “Blake, please. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I just remembered who I am. My name’s Blake Hunt.”
The coldness in his expression as he looked at her had the blood in Josie’s veins turning to ice. She took note of the princess’s blond hair again and forced herself to ask him, “And the twins?”