Winds of Heaven

by Karen Toller Whittenburg

  On some vague plane of awareness Kylie felt him strip away her jeans, knew she assisted in their removal. She knew also that she watched him shrug free of his clothes and caressed his body with her gaze. But the momentary separation seemed a superfluous interruption of their intimacy. She wanted Nick beside her, around her, and in her, and anticipation fueled the flames of her yearning.

  He knelt beside her and lightly, tenderly stroked her. He investigated the supple length of her legs, beginning with fingertip circles of her ankles and moving steadily along her calves. Lingering over the slim curve of her thigh, he paused to trace, then kiss, the tiny birthmark there.

  As he straightened to continue his exploration, Kylie thought she would melt in the silvery admiration of his eyes. Without haste he sculpted the contours of her stomach and hips and spanned her waist with gentle fingers.

  Her breath caught as he took the weight of her breasts, cupping and molding his hands to conform to her curves. Still he wasn’t satisfied and renewed the stroking caresses across her shoulders and throat until at last he framed her face in his hands. Slowly he bent to take her mouth in a fleeting promise.

  It seemed an eternity before his body blanketed her, before his lips branded her soul. And then eternity became meaningless as she was consumed by the union of their flesh.

  All the torrid colors of a summer sunset blurred in her mind, and she whirled through their fiery center. She felt the searing heat of their brilliance, reveled in the radiance surrounding her, and held fast to Nick, the essence of the night.

  They reached a wild explosion of sensation and then ebbed into languorous emotion. Cradled at Nick’s side, Kylie drifted into the soothing aftermath. The sound of his breathing lulled her, but reality intruded with the muffled chime of the grandfather clock. Eleven o’clock. Time for good-nights and separate bedrooms.

  Nick tightened his arm around her and breathed a contented sigh. Kylie echoed the breathy vibration, knowing their nightly routine was altered irrevocably, just as everything between them was altered. For better or worse there could be no going back.

  She wouldn’t even if she could. How could she possibly feel any regret for what had just happened? Perhaps foolishly she had allowed her impulsive heart to rule her head. Perhaps she should have given more consideration to the arguments her logic had offered- She could think of a thousand perhapses, but not one of them would dull the quiet feeling of discovery inside.

  The storm of passion had swept aside her illusions and given her a glimpse of deep emotion. She was special to Nick, just as he was special to her in some intangible, inexplicable way. Tonight she had taken a risk, made a conscious decision, and there could be no regrets.

  His breath fanned her cheek, and Kylie closed her eyes in exquisite wonder. Lovers. She’d never known it could be so good. As she lifted her lips to invite his kiss she wondered if there had ever really been a decision to make.

  Chapter Six

  It was the smile. Definitely the smile. Kylie leaned closer to her reflection in the mirrored tiles beside the tub. Above a cloud of iridescent bubbles the woman who looked back at her smiled. Serenely. Sensuously. Smugly.

  Yes, Kylie decided. It was definitely the smile that betrayed her. She might have been able to ignore the mysterious sparkle in her eyes. And surely the softly persistent hint of blush in her cheeks wouldn’t be noticed by anyone else. But it was hard to explain away that smile.

  Not that anyone had asked. Not once during the entire day had anyone asked. She had received compliments on her dress, her hairstyle, even on the shade of lipstick she wore. Each thank you she’d murmured in response had been chaperoned by a stern command to the silent laughter inside her. She had wanted to laugh aloud with the knowledge that her dress wasn’t new, her hairstyle was the same as the day before, and her lipstick was no more than a tinted gloss.

  She was different because of Nick, because of the night spent in his arms. And the difference showed in the satisfied curve of her mouth.

  She had drifted through the day like Cinderella at the ball—composed on the surface, tremulously excited beneath. No one could have faulted her morning lecture on self-discipline. No one could have known the self-discipline it required to keep her smile under control whenever she looked toward the corner of the room. And she’d looked often for the reassurance of his presence, for the gentle encouragement in his eyes. She had glanced at Nick, glanced away, and returned to share a secret look, sweetened with a lover’s promise.

  Kylie lifted a wet fingertip to the mirror and tried to erase the smile, but it left her lips only to dance audaciously in her eyes. Wrinkling her nose at the image, she turned and sank up to her chin in the bath. It was warm and deliciously cozy, and even though she knew she shouldn’t, Kylie couldn’t resist lingering a moment longer. She was tempted to call to Nick and invite him to join her, but he was probably already dressed and waiting for her.

  The thought of persuading him to skip Glynnis Claybrook’s party in favor of an intimate evening for two was enticing. But she had promised Stephanie. Well, she hadn’t actually promised because Stephanie hadn’t actually voiced a plea for support.

  “Are you going to be at the party tonight?” Stephanie had asked. But Kylie had recognized the entreaty in the blue eyes and she hadn’t imagined the relief that edged Stephanie’s smile at Kylie’s affirmative answer.

  Still, if Nick had shown even the slightest inclination to skip the party, Kylie knew she would happily have forgotten about Stephanie, Alex, Glynnis Claybrook, and the world at large. But Nick had seemed content with the plans for the evening. After work he’d taken her to a restaurant for dinner. When they returned to the house, he’d kissed her and whispered that she had just under an hour to get ready for the party.

  And she had spent almost that amount of time lazing in the tub.

  She moved one leg, sliding it across the bathtub’s porcelain bottom before raising her foot up out of the water. With toes pointed toward the ceiling Kylie watched the soap bubbles glide over her calf to splash into the bath.

  Get out of the tub, she told herself sternly. The water is getting cold, and it’s getting late. Get out and get ready before Nick comes looking for you.

  At the thought her smile returned in full measure. That was exactly what she was hoping for, of course. If Nick should find her like this, he wouldn’t remember the plans he’d made for the evening. She’d make sure of it.

  With a determined sigh she sat upright, flipped the lever to open the drain, and forced herself to stand and step out onto the mat. As she rubbed her body briskly with the bath towel, Kylie decided she must stop acting as if the next few hours were all she had to spend alone with Nick. There would be hours after the party, all day tomorrow, the entire weekend, in fact. She still had another week and a half in Santa Fe and after that—

  Her thoughts ran smack into a brick wall at that point, and Kylie flung the towel over the railing to dry and walked into her bedroom. All day she had successfully avoided facing the questions that followed words like after that. She didn’t want to consider the future. Not now, anyway.

  She wouldn’t spoil this time of getting acquainted, this time of relaxing and enjoying every aspect of her new relationship with Nick. A discussion of the future would just complicate things right now: It would make demands that neither of them was ready to face. It was better to let these things develop naturally at their own pace.

  There, Kylie thought as she pulled on her panty hose and a camisole top. That made perfect sense. You couldn’t rush emotions. It was better to take one day at a time and not make pointless speculations about the future. Perfectly logical reasoning, she congratulated herself. Positive thinking would achieve positive results.

  But as the soft fabric of her dress slipped over her head and nestled around her in a smooth fit, her optimistic attitude faded. It was all perfect nonsense, she admitted. She wanted desperately to ask Nick how he felt about the future in general and a future with her
in particular. But it was too soon for that, too soon to consider any kind of permanent arrangement.

  So why did her thoughts keep coming back to words like commitment and permanent? Kylie whirled slowly to view her full-length reflection in the mirror. From the stocking-clad feet to the upswept cluster of curls crowning her head, she looked poised and composed. The dress was a misty blue complement to her femininity. Kylie smiled. Serenely, sensuously, smugly. Her thoughts kept coming back to words like commitment and permanent because she believed in happy endings.

  Even if it was too soon to think about any kind of ending at all.

  A quiet tap on the door brought her pivoting gracefully, eagerly in that direction. Nick pushed open the door and stepped inside, his expression exactly matching the happy feelings bubbling inside her. He was dressed in dark pants; he was without a jacket, and the ends of his tie hung loosely from his white shirt collar.

  Her fingers ached with the longing to dishevel his dusky hair and touch the roguish slant of his lips. “Hi,” she said, her breath tumbling past the word to make it a whispery sigh.

  “Hi,” he answered in the same bemused manner, as if they hadn’t parted company only minutes before.

  “I guess I’m going to make us late,” she offered questioningly.

  “I’d say that’s a pretty safe bet.” He swept a long appreciative glance over her. “I came to see if you needed any help.”

  “Getting dressed, you mean?” Kylie taunted. “Somehow, I don’t think you’d be much help in that department.”

  “I’ll admit it goes against my natural instincts, but I’ve always been intrigued by the scenes in old movies where the heroine needs some assistance with a hook and eye or a zipper or something. I’ve always thought it would be nice to have a woman fasten my cuff links or straighten my tie.” Nick lifted one wrist and pointed to the button fastening of his cuff with disdain. “But times have changed, and I don’t wear cuff links.”

  Kylie shook her head in sympathy. “And I’m hopeless when it comes to men’s ties.”

  “Maybe I could finish zipping your dress,” he suggested hopefully.

  “Unfortunately this dress doesn’t have a zipper.” She made a slow turn to demonstrate.

  “So I see,” he said with a frown. “Progress! Who needs it? No cuff links. No zippers. It’s getting damned hard to find an excuse for being late these days.”

  Kylie stood, silently waiting, her senses absorbed in savoring his presence.

  “Such a shame, too.” Nick crossed the room and stopped in front of her. He lifted a finger to stroke her cheek. “Especially since I’ve already phoned to say we’ll be late.”

  “Mmmm. That is a shame.” She slid her palms over his silken shirt front and idly unbuttoned the top button. “I suppose I could change into a dress with a zipper.”

  “That seems like a terrible waste of time and energy. I can think of much better things to do.”

  “Such as?”

  He smiled slowly and seductively as he bent his head to demonstrate his meaning. Kylie parted her lips to accept his kiss. The anticipation that trembled within her brought her up on tiptoe and into his arms.

  Her hands followed the curve of his shoulders to caress his muscled back. His touch was gentle and deep, unhurried and yet full of urgency. She pressed against him, the clefts and angles of her body seeking and finding his corresponding symmetry. Entwined in his embrace, she discovered new delights, new sensations, which rippled through her like an incoming tide.

  Kylie marveled at the pleasure that arced between them, at the almost unbelievable sense of belonging she felt. She wondered if Nick felt the same, if he experienced the same awareness of blending emotions, melding desires. It was the special quality that had drawn them inexorably together and now bound them in the tenuous threads of passion. And judging by her heated response, the threads seemed destined to forge a web of interwoven strengths.

  At the gentle prompting of his tongue she opened her mouth to receive him. She welcomed the exploration and wanted to invite more. She felt her body sigh in surrender and knew she would never get enough of his touch.

  In a smooth line from her neck to her waist to her hip, Nick’s hands glided down her back. He drew her closer with tantalizing strokes. His knuckles brushed the outer swell of her breast and then retreated to the indentation of her waist. Reluctantly, lingeringly he broke the contact of their lips and traced a pathway of warm kisses to her earlobe.

  “If this thing doesn’t have a zipper,” he whispered huskily, “how do I get you out of it?”

  With a soft laugh Kylie stepped from the circle of his arms and slipped the dress up and over her head as easily as she had slipped it on only moments before. Her hands moved to the hem of the camisole, but Nick stopped her, obviously intent on removing it himself. Kylie looked into his eyes with a teasing smile. “It doesn’t have a zipper either.”

  “I think I can manage,” he said and proceeded to prove that he could. His gaze caressed her slowly, sending a thundering wave of longing through her. She reached for the dangling ends of his tie and tugged him closer. Her fingers trembled a little as she unbuttoned his shirt.

  His hands rested like warm patches low on either side of her waist, and his chest rose and fell beneath the brush of her fingertips. Kylie thought he must surely hear the quickening rhythm of her heartbeat. With delicious curiosity she placed her palm flat against him and listened with her body to the sound of his matching rhythm.

  Lifting her chin, she looked into his eyes, sharing the wonder of two hearts beating a duplicate pattern of desire. Nick responded by pressing his hand above her breast before he lowered it to cover the firm silky flesh.

  A slow, intoxicating weakness filtered through her, and she stepped back, clutching the ends of his tie once more to pull him with her. Just as she felt the edge of the bed against her knees, he gave her a gentle push, and she toppled onto the coverlet.

  His tie came with her, but Nick remained standing at the foot of the bed, half-dressed and looking down at her with a slumberous, expectant gaze. She returned his look with an encouraging tilt of her head, and then, in wanton anticipation, she gripped the waistband of her pantyhose and wiggled free of the sheer covering.

  At the sound of his deep, indrawn breath a sudden unaccountable shyness came over her, and Kylie wanted to pull the coverlet around her nakedness. But instead she lifted her hand to him.

  Nick reached out to cup her fingers in his. His touch was strong, reassuring, and tender. Infinitely tender. As if he understood, better than she, the emotions that flamed within her and betrayed her into eagerness. Then he undressed, leaving his shirt and slacks to gather wrinkles on the floor, lowered himself onto the bed, and gathered Kylie into his arms.

  Her moan of pleasure was quickly smothered by the scorching possession of his kiss, which went on and on. He intensified the pressure, then drew back to tease and tantalize her mouth before once again deepening the caress. Her desire sparked and burned hotter as Nick led her skillfully into the fire. His hands were emissaries of passion, burning her with sensuous mastery. Kylie interpreted their message and communicated her own rising need with long discovering strokes of his body.

  Fevered shivers of pleasure followed one another down her back as he moved her beneath him and began to satisfy the ache he had created. It was a gentle, leisurely fulfillment that built to an impassioned climax, then ebbed into a beautifully complete satisfaction. Pliant and yielding, Kylie feathered her fingers through the silken wetness of his chest, wanting nothing more than to stay curled against his warmth for the rest of the night.

  Nick rubbed her shoulder in sleepy circles, as if he were reluctant to leave the cozy nest of her arms. “I think we’ll be fashionably late in arriving at the party now,” he said with a trace of regret.

  “I don’t know,” Kylie murmured in protest. “Maybe we should procrastinate a little longer.”

  His low chuckle vibrated beneath her hand. “Any lon
ger and we’ll arrive with the sunrise—if we arrive at all.”

  With a nod she sighed and pushed determinedly out of his hold. “All right, then. We’d better get dressed— again.” As she slid from the bed and began to look for her clothing, Kylie glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Honestly, Nick. Why didn’t you think of this before I got dressed the first time?”

  “Oh, I thought about it.” He raised himself on an elbow to grin at her. “But you see, I heard this lecture today on self-discipline, and I was trying to—”

  “Practice what I preach?”

  “In a manner of speaking. Actually I was trying to find the flaw in your theory.”

  She sent him a sweet smile. “Well, you obviously found it. Otherwise we’d be at the party already, wouldn’t we?”

  “Would we, Kylie? I didn’t notice any awesome display of self-discipline on your part, either.”

  “That’s different. I was merely practicing some positive thinking.” She walked around the bed to the bathroom door, ever-conscious of his appreciative regard.

  “Positive thinking?” he asked, stopping her exit from the room.

  She turned and lifted her shoulders in a provocative shrug. “I was thinking that it was positively ridiculous to go to a party when we had so many better things to do.”

  The curve of his lips held her captivated as he swung his feet to the floor and stood, a virile, enticing example of masculinity. “Better things?” The arch of his eyebrow was a teasing challenge. “You mean there’s more?”

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out—later.” She stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

  “You bet I will, Kylie. You can count on it.” The amused confidence of his voice carried clearly to her ears as she leaned against the door and let the smile that threatened have control.

  “I am, Nick,” she whispered in a voice too low for him to hear, and yet Kylie knew that somehow he had heard.

  * * * *

  The party was at full tempo when Kylie and Nick slipped almost unnoticed into the crowd. It was a lively gathering with some forty or more guests dressed in everything from denims to diamonds. The noise level was somewhere between subdued and deafening, although it tended toward the latter. The food was good, the conversation varied, and the atmosphere quaint. A wandering guitarist strolled through the crowd, serenading anyone who glanced in his direction.