Her words were cut off by the force of his mouth as his lips ground hard upon hers. Yet even in his anger there was persuasion; she couldn’t twist from him as he held her, only accept and parry the heated strokes of his tongue. No matter how deep her hurt, indignity or anger, she couldn’t still the tempest of excitement that swelled within her. Desire began to course through her like the wild, undeniable wash of a waterfall.
The kiss ended as she found herself tossed unceremoniously onto the bed. Shaken, Bryn tried to gather her wits and dignity about her.
“I don’t think you’ve listened to me,” she said harshly, struggling to sit with a contemptuous decorum. He still wasn’t listening to her. The tux jacket fell to the floor. With precise movements, he removed his cuff links. His shirttails were wrenched from his pants, and then the moonlight was gleaming upon his naked shoulders. The click of his buckle and the rasp of his zipper seemed ridiculously loud in the quiet of the night. And all the while she saw his golden eyes upon her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Bryn demanded.
He raised a polite, mocking brow. “Undressing.”
“For what?” she snapped icily.
“To sleep with the woman I’m sleeping with, of course.” His shoes were tossed toward the closet with a thud, and he stepped out of his trousers and briefs. She should have been accustomed to his body by now, but she wasn’t. Not quite. Each time she saw him naked again she felt her breath catch with a little thrill. She found new fascination in the bronzed breadth of his shoulders, with the gleaming ripple of his muscles, the steel hard flatness of his belly.
She even forgot his stinging words as he started walking toward her, eyeing her with the moonlight giving his golden gaze a satyr-like glitter. He picked up her foot, his touch absurdly gentle considering his heated tension as he cast away her shoe.
“Lee…”
Her second shoe was tossed aside. Sensation rippled through her as his fingers grazed the length of her panty hose to her thighs, to the elastic that wound about her waist, and skimmed them away; then his touch was upon her bare flesh.
Bryn realized that she had lain there, compliant and aching, seduced by the desire he could so easily awaken within her. She was not going to be a victim of her own traitorous needs. With a small cry of anger, she spurted from the bed, only to come crashing hard against the power of his chest and find herself swept to the bed again, a prisoner of tangled limbs and sinewed strength. His fingers wound into her hair and he began to kiss her again, his lips teasing, haunting, solicitous upon hers, then hard with need and passion….
Gentle again…and then demanding. Rough, but never hurtful, a maelstrom that roiled within her womb, making her want him, his touch…
His hands roamed with bold possession over her body, searing through the gown that covered her, covering her breasts, rousing their peaks to a betraying hardness. His palm came to her thigh, sliding beneath the fabric to taunt her nakedness and move against her with a bold and blunt intimacy.
His head rose from hers and he still spoke with anger, but she clung to the words. “You little fool! Don’t you know how much I care about you, how much I’ve come to need you? And yes, when a man loves a woman, he gets angry. Crazy. Savage. When he sees her in the arms of another man. No, I don’t own you. But you’re still mine. Mine to be with in the moonlight…like this…together…intimate….”
They were shattering words. Heated, whispered words that spun in her mind like crystal. He loved her; he had said that he loved her….
He had said he loved her. But had he? Wasn’t it a word that men whispered easily in the heat of the moment?
She cried out as he shifted suddenly, abruptly, easing the skirt of her gown up, wedging his body between her legs. The force of his entry was a shock, but a gratifying, dizzying shock, causing her body to shiver in liquid afterquakes. Unwittingly she dug her fingernails into his back, whimpering softly as the unleashed storm of pain, anger and untamed desire swept into and around them with the merciless vigor of a cyclone. Bryn had no thought of anything but the driving need, the sweetness that coiled and coiled within her, the wonder of feeling him move inside of her, easing the need, stroking it to frenzy….
Her release sent wave after wave of shivering aftershocks shooting through her, releasing her body slowly from the wild, tempestuous beauty of the storm. She heard him groan her name, felt him strain above her, shudder violently, and leave within her the warm liquid fire of his own release. As she clung to him, she began to wonder what was truth, the anger or the love? And she burst into tears.
He moved like silent lightning, shifting from her, taking her into his arms. And his words were no longer angry; they were anxious and filled her heart with pain and remorse. “Oh, God, Bryn, I never meant to hurt you; I would never want to hurt you. Oh, my God, I am so, so sorry. Please don’t be afraid of me. I couldn’t bear it if you were afraid of me….”
It took her a moment to absorb his words, to understand that he was ripping himself apart; his pain was that of a dagger twisting in his gut. She disentangled herself from his arms long enough to meet his eyes, and she shook her head in confusion. “You didn’t hurt me, Lee. And I’m not afraid of you.”
He was silent for a moment that seemed to slip into eternity. And then his hand moved to touch her face; it trembled as he grazed her tears away.
“Then why are you crying?” he asked her, his whisper hoarse.
“Because…” Bryn faltered. She wanted to tell him the truth; she wanted to demand to know if he really loved her. But she couldn’t. Not even with him, could she be that trusting yet. And love…well, she had learned once that it could mean many things. Before she could give him her trust, she would have to believe that it meant forever and forever—and that the man could extend his love for a lifetime to three little boys who weren’t his.
But she had to say something, because the anxious concern he was showing her was a baring of his own soul; she didn’t understand it, but she had never seen him so upset.
“Lee, I swear to you that I’m not afraid of you—and you’ve never, never hurt me. I think it’s just the night. I’ve been so worried, and frightened. And tonight was horrible, and then you started on me…”
Lee groaned. “Oh, God, Bryn, I am sorry. I don’t know what got into me. Can you forgive me?”
“Yes, of course, Lee. But, please…can’t you tell me why you’re so…upset?”
He sighed, grazing his palm over her cheek, then lying back on a pillow to stare up at the ceiling. “Sometime, Bryn. Not now.” A tremor gripped him suddenly and he spoke softly, almost hesitantly. “Bryn…you don’t find me…brutal?”
Bryn smiled and laid her head against his chest, puzzled at his words, but determined to ease him. “Torrid, tempestuous, passionate, intense, strong and forceful. A whirlwind, yes. But brutal, never. You are fire and wind and gentle breezes, and I love them all.”
He was silent, stroking her hair as he pulled her close and rested his chin upon her head. Bryn waited a moment, knowing that for once, it was he who leaned on her for the strength. Then she spoke softly to him.
“Please tell me about your wife, Lee.”
“She died,” he said tonelessly.
“I know that, Lee. But please, please let me try to understand what hurts you so badly.”
“I will, Bryn, I promise. Soon.”
She had to let it go at that; she couldn’t give him everything yet; maybe it was the same with him. His fears seemed to be as deep as hers.
Suddenly he lifted her above him; his fingers locked about her nape and he pulled her down to touch his lips against hers with reverence. He rolled her to her side and smiled as he faced her, tugging at the rumpled gown that was still tangled around her. “Could we dispense with this?” he asked. “I need to sleep—holding you, not material.”
Bryn silently pulled the gown over her head and tossed it from the bed. She settled down beside him.
There were a mil
lion things that could have been said but they didn’t say any of them. They lay there, and in time, Bryn drifted off to sleep.
She awakened later—she didn’t know how much later—to find she was alone. Startled, she half rose and looked around.
Then she saw him by the doors to the balcony, silently staring out into the night. The moon caught his profile and it was strong and proud…but his features, caught by shadow, were haunted.
“Lee!” she cried softly.
He came back to her, slipping beside her in the bed, and holding her close. “I woke you. I’m sorry.”
“Lee, it doesn’t matter. I just wish I could help. You’ve given me everything—”
“No,” he corrected. “You’ve given me everything.” His arms closed around her, and then he was above her, staring down into her eyes.
I’m shaking, Lee thought. I’ve come to know more each day just how much I need her, and I almost ruined it all….
“I loved you like a savage once tonight,” he told her. “Let me love you tenderly, softly….”
He did love her tenderly, caressing her, loving her with appreciative eyes as his hands touched her. She was stunning, clad only in the moonlight. His fingers grazed her breasts, adoring them. His lips found their rough crests, taunting them to wonderful peaks. He suckled and nipped at each, laved them with his tongue, sheltered the luscious ripeness of the full mounds in the firm massage of his hands.
And again he looked at the length of her. The rose and creamy beauty of her breasts as they rose and fell with her quickened breathing. The curve of her slender midriff and waist. Sleek. She was sleek and long…her hips were a beautiful curve all over again. She was a dancer, he reminded himself. And she brought him with her, to dance in the clouds.
He started to touch her again, all that his eyes had cherished and devoured. His hands swept over her with hot promise; his lips tasted and caressed her flesh; his tongue traced brands of fire across her belly, down the shadow of her belly. He turned her over gently, feathering kisses down her spine, to the small of her back.
And he turned her to face him again and loved her with the greatest intimacy, losing himself to reckless passion as she writhed with a dancer’s fluid grace beneath his tender touch, whispering his name, crying out his name, entangling her fingers in his hair and begging that he come to her….
He did, only to find that she could be as passionate, as demanding as he.
She rose over him in the moonlight, a sculpture in proud and naked beauty as she stared down at him with moistened lips, her wealth of copper hair curling about the swollen beauty of her breasts.
She smiled at him, her lips curling whimsically.
“Now let me love you—” she told him, leaning low to grace his chest with her nipples and sending waves of erotic heat rippling through him all over again “—like a savage….”
He smiled, enveloping her with his arms. “My love, do with me what you will….”
* * *
Much later he reminded her that they needed to sleep, that tomorrow was the day when they would get Adam back.
They needed to be rested—and alert.
Bryn smiled to herself, grateful for the abandon of the night. He hadn’t given her much time to worry.
He had given her something—though she just wasn’t sure yet what. But whatever did happen, he had been with her now, through the greatest trial of her life.
She was very, very grateful for Lee Condor.
CHAPTER 11
Bryn awoke elated; she should have been tired, but she wasn’t tired at all. It was Sunday, and she was going to get Adam back.
It occurred to her that it was absurd to relish the thought of talking to a kidnapper but once she heard his voice again, she would be so grateful that she would readily crawl on her knees, if he asked her to.
The kidnapper had played her perfectly—right from the beginning. The tension had almost destroyed her—would have, if it hadn’t been for Lee.
She tried not to believe that it could all have been a lie; that the kidnapper could still hold onto Adam. She didn’t dare entertain such thoughts—she would crack.
Marie, who had proved to be a lovely woman in her mid-fifties, big bosomed with a deep warm smile and no nonsense manner, was glad to stay with the two older boys for a few hours again that morning when Bryn and Lee left. Brian and Keith would probably sleep until at least nine, and knowing that the morning would be tense with waiting, Bryn was glad that they could arrive after that part was over. She had tried to conceal the truth from them, but as children do, they had sensed that something was wrong. Marie would drop them off at the town house about eleven—in time to greet their brother and herself, Bryn prayed.
Bryn believed that Marie, too, knew that something was very wrong, but she didn’t ask questions and showed herself willing to help in any way that she could.
When she had first met Marie, Bryn had been a little bit embarrassed by the relationship she was obviously sharing with Lee, but she had been gratified to see that the older woman seemed to like her on first sight. And Marie apparently adored her employer, so it seemed that the two of them together could do no wrong.
Bryn was up and dressed by 7:00 A.M. on Sunday morning—ready to leave before Lee was out of the shower. But early as it was, Marie had coffee ready downstairs. She tried to get Bryn to eat but Bryn knew she couldn’t swallow a mouthful of food. When Lee did appear downstairs, Bryn barely allowed him to sip a cup of coffee, she was so anxious to get to the town house.
Lee didn’t try to talk to her on the way over. They were both extremely tense.
Bryn almost burst through the front door; she remembered though—that even though it was her home, Andrew and Barbara were probably together. And they deserved a certain respect for their privacy, especially since they were staying there, courting danger, to keep an eye on things for her so that she and the boys could be safe at Lee’s.
Impatiently, she rang the bell. It was only eight. The call wasn’t due for an hour. Lee gazed at her, and she flushed.
“Bryn—you’re going to work yourself into knots before anything happens,” he warned her.
Her throat tightened. “I can’t help it, Lee. You don’t know what it’s been like.”
“I have a pretty good idea,” he said dryly. “And I still think we should have called the police at the very beginning.”
“No! Something might have happened to Adam!”
“And you also might have had him back four days ago,” Lee said flatly.
“He’s fine, I’m telling you, he’s fine!” Bryn said irritably. Her voice was rising, getting hysterical.
The door swung open while she was still in mid-yell. Barbara, clad in a housecoat, looked from one to the other, backing up so that they could enter. Lee’s hard features and Bryn’s flushed ones warned her that the tension was already mounting. “I’ve got coffee on,” she murmured, glancing at her wristwatch. “This is going to be a long hour. Very long,” she muttered.
Bryn was already inside, pacing. “Lee, when he calls this time, I’ll do the talking. You have a habit of irritating him.”
“Forgive me for not wanting to get both you and Adam killed,” Lee retorted, his jaw hardening still further. Barbara could feel the sparks flying and she quickly grasped Bryn’s arm. “Come on, honey, let’s go into the kitchen and get the coffee.”
It was a long hour. Andrew appeared downstairs, and Bryn heard him talking quietly to Lee. She ran out and faced both of them. “Please, please! Don’t do anything to mess this up! There won’t be any trouble. I’ll give the prints back; Adam will be home. Don’t the two of you do anything! Promise me that! Swear it—”
“Bryn,” Barbara warned.
Then Andrew and Barbara who were nervous themselves, were left with the task of keeping Bryn and Lee apart. Personally, Barbara agreed with Lee that Bryn was wrong. The police should have been called. But then she couldn’t blame Bryn for being terrified for her little n
ephew.
And it was said, Barabara decided. She sincerely believed that Lee and Bryn were just right for each other, that the love was there that should have helped them—had helped them—now, as in the days that had passed.
But both of them, it seemed, were afraid of the depths of that emotion, and so now, with torment and tension mounting, they were at the snapping point.
At exactly nine o’clock the phone rang. Bryn cried out and raced for it, leaving no time for a second ring.
“Ah, good, Miss Keller. You’re there. All ready?”
“Yes, yes! I’ve got your negatives and the proofs and I haven’t touched a thing. Please, when can I have Adam?”
A husky chuckle answered her. “Put Condor on.”
“No!” Bryn protested. “Please, you’re dealing with me; I want Adam now. Oh, please—”
“Put him on.”
The command was unnecessary. Lee had grabbed the phone from her. “We want the child. Now. Or we will do something with these pictures,” Lee snapped.
“You’ll have him. As soon as I send the kid, you call that lobby and tell Miss Keller. She drops the stuff and leaves. Don’t you dare let there be anyone suspicious around, you hear? I don’t think you’re that stupid, but I just wanted to talk to you again, Condor, to remind you I don’t want any tricks.”
“No tricks,” Lee agreed, glancing at Bryn. “But so help me God, if anything goes wrong…”
“Not on my end. Tell her to go.”
Lee hung up the phone.
“Well?” Bryn demanded, gripping his arm, unconsciously digging her nails into it like talons.
“You can go now,” he said unhappily.
“Oh, thank God, thank God,” she murmured. Then she caught his eyes with her own. “No tricks, Lee, really. You have to be here.”
“No tricks,” he told her grimly. “I’ll be right here.” He glanced over his shoulder at Andrew. “Call Information for me, will you? Verify that number of that pay phone in the hotel’s lobby.”
Andrew nodded, gave Bryn an encouraging grin, and stepped over to the phone. Lee turned back to Bryn. “Have the valet park your car. And as soon as you’ve dropped those pictures, you walk out the front door, give the valet your ticket and get into your car as soon as he drives it up. I mean it, Bryn. Don’t take any chances. Don’t be anyplace where there isn’t a group of people around, okay?”
Night Moves (60th Anniversary) Page 20