There hadn’t been anyone in his life since he had walked away from her. Mitch hadn’t allowed there to be. Leaving her had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. Loving Clancy had cracked his life apart so sharply, he’d been leery of ever letting anyone get that close to him again. So no one had.
It had been easy keeping others out.
It wasn’t easy now. He couldn’t keep her out. She was inside his head, inside his blood, infiltrating his system as if she were made of pure magic.
And he was filled with her.
Aching to go fast, knowing he had to pace himself, Mitch struggled to keep a rein on the emotions that surged through him, demanding release. Demanding her.
He cradled the back of Clancy’s head with his hand as he brought his mouth to hers over and over again. Everything about her felt new, fresh, cleansing. He loved the feel of her hair, of her skin. She smelled of heaven and tasted of sin.
His sin.
Mitch drank deeply, as if he knew he’d never get his fill of her.
His body throbbed, ached for the very feel of her. He wanted to sheath himself in her, to be reborn. To pretend just for a moment that she could be his and that nothing else would ever matter.
His own heart beating wildly, Mitch slid his hand beneath the elastic waistband of her shorts. Carefully, he worked the gray fabric down her hips. He was afraid that the eagerness humming within him would suddenly break free. Above all, Mitch didn’t want to frighten her.
Because he sure as hell was frightening himself. He’d known that he’d wanted her. The moment Mitch had seen Clancy again, he’d known. But even he hadn’t known the extent of his passion.
Drawing her shorts down the length of her legs, Mitch slid them from her feet and tossed them aside. They melded with his shirt and shoes.
Clancy felt helpless, simultaneously in the grips of desire and embarrassment. Embarrassment not because she was nude, but because she couldn’t move the way she wanted to, because she couldn’t do the very simplest of things. Mitch had to undress her. She could just barely lift her hips. Frustration ate at her.
Mitch could see what was going through her mind. She was almost transparent. He shook his head slightly. “Don’t think, Clancy. Don’t think about anything.”
He was right. Nothing else mattered right now. “Except this,” she told him.
He caressed her face, his fingers tangling in her hair. “Except this,” he murmured as he lowered his mouth to her breasts.
She tasted of all things wonderful and forbidden. All the things he’d denied himself. Trailing his lips lightly along her body, he pressed a kiss to her abdomen and felt it quiver.
His breath was singeing her, almost burning away the tiny swatch of fabric that separated him from the core of her desire. Her head reeling, she reveled in the feelings throbbing in her loins. She’d been so sure that all this would be denied her.
With his hand on her hip, Mitch slowly drew first one side of her panties down, then the other, the gradual, deliberate movement making the fire of passion build for both of them until it reached almost monumental proportions. By the time he had drawn her underwear completely away, they were both at the brink.
And then she was his. His as if she had been created for this purpose—to be worshiped by him.
“You are so beautiful,” Mitch whispered in wonder.
The words danced along her skin, quickening the pulses in her body.
Demands slammed through him like stock cars in a demolition derby. Shucking his jeans, he pressed his body to hers. Heat met heat. Dreams and reality became one.
He roamed her face, kiss twining into kiss. He tasted a tear and drew his head back. She was afraid, he suddenly realized. Had he frightened her? Had he gone too fast?
“What?” Softly, he combed her hair away from her face. “What is it? Do you want me to stop?” It would tear him apart, but if she asked him to, he would. He wouldn’t force himself on her, even at this point.
She moved her head from side to side on the pillow. Another tear streaked crazily down her cheek, dripping onto the sham. “No. It’s just that...” Her voice drifted off.
“What, Clancy?” he urged patiently. “It’s just that what?”
She pressed her lips together. “I can’t even move my legs to...”
It was so hard for her to say this. There were certain things lovers were supposed to be able to do, by the very definition of the act of lovemaking. And she couldn’t.
He grinned at her then, his heart aching for her and bursting at the same time.
“Don’t worry. Some things,” he whispered against her mouth, his hands gently parting her legs to admit him, “a man likes to do for himself.”
His body pressed to hers, he engulfed her in a sea of soft, open-mouthed kisses until her mind was completely dazed. Her arms tightened around him. She could feel his desire, his need for her.
And still he held back.
“Now, Mitch,” Clancy urged hoarsely. “Now. Take me now.”
He raised himself over her, his eyes searching her face. He would rather die than ever hurt her. “You’re sure?”
There was no air left in her lungs. Desire filled every pore, every fiber. Every tiny space.
Her eyes caressed him and said things to him that she knew her lips couldn’t. Not yet. “I’m sure,” she whispered. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
That made one of them. Doubts gnawed at him even as needs burned holes in him.
“I’m not any good for you, Clancy. I never have been.” Even at a moment like this, he was acutely aware of what a misfit he was. He didn’t belong in her world. It was richer, classier, more educated than the one he had emerged from. She’d only be ashamed of him in the end, and he wouldn’t be able to bear it.
She had never been able to understand his reasoning. The smile on Clancy’s lips came from the center of her soul.
“For a smart guy, you sure are dumb sometimes.” They’d talked enough. She moved so that her breasts brushed against the soft layer of hair on his chest. “Make love with me, Mitch. Don’t make me beg.”
He laughed softly at her words. As if she had to ask. “It’s me who’s doing the begging.”
She shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Listen with your heart, Clancy.” He nipped her lower lip. “With your heart.”
“I can’t.” She twined her arms harder. “It’s hammering against yours.”
There was no turning back.
When he entered her, he saw the change in her eyes. There was a glow there, a rapture that echoed his own at the union.
She wanted to laugh, to cry, to sob her relief. Her joy. “I can feel you, Mitch,” she cried softly. “I can feel you.”
He gathered her to him. They had passed the point of no return. There was no holding back, not for either of them. The tempo increased, like the rising climax of a symphony.
The melding was sweet and fiery, soft and rough. Storms and rainbows.
It was all things to him, for it had to last. Mitch swore to himself that he wouldn’t falter like this again. Wouldn’t give in to himself again. He cared too much about her to use her this way.
But just this once, he would savor it. He would lose himself in the world he knew would never be his.
Later, as he descended, he was aware of her breathing softly beside him. A sweetness filled him. This, too, he thought, he would remember.
He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, then slowly extricated himself.
But when he moved to leave, Clancy reached for him, her fingers tightening lightly on his arm. He raised a brow, silently questioning her.
“Stay with me, Mitch.” She sighed, like a woman half roused from a wonderful dream. “Stay the night.”
She looked so tempting, he wanted to remain with her like this forever. Strange thoughts for a realist, he upbraided himself. Nothing was forever.
“I am.” Mitch nodd
ed in the general direction of his bedroom.
It was much too far away. She wanted to fall asleep in his arms. “Here. In my bed. With me. The way you used to.”
He wanted to say no. To lay the foundations of what he knew had to come. But the words wouldn’t come. “You always did drive a hard bargain.”
She grinned, her expression flowering until it encased them both. He could almost feel her smile. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
But he had, he thought. He’d seen something wondrous. He’d basked in the light that she shed. And for a little while, she’d made him feel whole. It was almost ironic.
Taking his silence as acquiescence, Clancy curled her upper torso against him like a contented, soft kitten. She sighed, her eyes beginning to drift shut.
Mitch slipped his arm around her protectively. Sighing in turn, he lay back against the pillow. He wasn’t going to get any sleep, he was so wound up inside. But that was all right. He didn’t mind. As long as she was beside him.
It’s all wrong, Clancy. We both know that. But I guess it’s all right to pretend just for tonight.
* * *
Dawn intruded on soft, padded little feet, scampering into his space all too quickly. And with dawn came reality.
Mitch knew that he couldn’t let what had happened last night happen again—for her sake. They were of two different worlds, two different backgrounds, and he was too set in his ways to change for her.
He didn’t know how.
That meant keeping her at arm’s length emotionally. He wondered if that was possible. But he knew it would have to be.
Mitch looked at Clancy and a smile slipped over his lips without his permission. He must have dozed off for a while, after all. The sheet had slipped away from her body. It was tangled around his legs and hips like a corkscrew. He was as restless in his sleep as he was stoic when he was awake. While he was asleep he couldn’t maintain vigilance over himself.
He should be getting up. He had to get ready for work, and there was the small matter of breakfast to fix. Still, his eyes lingered on her as the sun slipped along her body, making it golden.
Unable to resist, he ran his hand down her hip, softly tracing her thigh. The softness aroused him.
Great willpower, Mitchell.
Her eyes still shut, Clancy laid her hand over his. “Hmm, that tickles.” She exhaled contentedly. “Don’t stop.”
But he did, even though her hand was on his. “What did you say?”
“I said don’t stop.” Reluctantly, Clancy opened her eyes.
Mitch sat up and looked at her, urgency nudging away the desire that had begun to swell within him. “Before that.”
She thought for a minute, her brain still foggy from sleep. She’d dreamed of him, dreamed that they were making endless love in a field of dandelions. “Hmm?”
“No.” He shook his head, still stunned. “You said it tickles.”
Digging her elbows into the mattress, Clancy dragged herself up into a partial sitting position. She was fully awake now, but her nudity didn’t register. She stared at her legs in wonder.
“It did. I felt it.” Her eyes shifted toward him. “Do it again.”
He did while she watched. The sensation made her squirm a little. Hope and elation scrambled up on wooden building blocks that tottered precariously. “The other. Do the other.”
“Demanding woman.” The flippant remark hid the mounting anticipation he felt. Mitch trailed the tips of his fingers lightly over her skin, then looked at her. “Well?”
Clancy bit her lower lip. Excitement pulsed within her. “Not so much, but something, yes. Definitely something.” Feeling giddy, she began to laugh. “You should have made love to me a lot sooner, Mitch. It seems to have great medicinal side effects.”
Overcome with what he had just witnessed, Mitch managed to hide his feelings as he gathered Clancy in his arms. “So do you.”
She looked at him quizzically.
“You’re like a drug. I can’t seem to get enough of you.”
Touched, she ran her hand along his cheek. The rough stubble stirred intimate feelings within her. “I wouldn’t mind very much if you wanted to continue trying.”
No, it would be far better for both of them if he cut it off right here. The important thing, Mitch reminded himself, was that Clancy was on the road to recovery.
He sat up and abruptly swung his legs, over the side of the bed. “You know it would be better for you if I didn’t.”
What was he saying? If she lived forever, she wouldn’t understand the way his mind worked. “I don’t know anything of the kind.” She sobered slightly. “Unless you regret last night.”
He looked at her over his shoulder. “I do.”
Clancy could feel her heart freeze within her breast. She gathered the sheet to her. But there was nothing to cover her hurt. “Oh.”
He couldn’t bear the look on her face. “Because it only makes me want you more.”
She waited a second, absorbing his words. Hugging them to her. “Then last night wasn’t just out of pity.”
He shifted, turning toward her. “If anyone should have been pitied last night, it was me. I was like a drowning man with no chance of survival.”
Her eyes swept over him. His body was lean and muscular. Memories of last night passed through her mind. How his body had felt pressed against hers.
“For a drowning man, you were pretty impressive.”
Her fingers were twining with his. He knew he should go, but he made no effort to withdraw. “Clancy. I have to get ready.”
Clancy glanced at him, her gaze dipping down. A grin spread sensually across her mouth. “You look like you might be ready now.”
He laughed, unable to help himself. “You are incorrigible.” Everything about her called to him.
“Then think of me as your life’s work. Reform me, Officer Mitchell.”
Surrendering, Mitch lay down next to her. “I don’t think I can.”
The grin turned hopelessly erotic. “Try,” she whispered.
He knew there was no leaving the room until he had her. There was no use in pretending otherwise. “I’ll be late.”
“But happy.” She kissed his shoulder. “I promise you’ll be happy.”
He felt his body heating. She was like a fever, he thought. A fever of the blood. “That was never in doubt.” His hand teased the swell of her breast.
It was hard concentrating when her blood was swimming. She felt her nipple hardening as his palm lightly rubbed along it.
“And look how efficient.” It took effort to form the words, to be coherent. “We’re already dressed for it.”
He laughed. Clancy lost herself in the rich, warm sound. It was like coffee, heavenly, dark coffee, making her adrenaline flow fast and hot.
“And who knows?” Her voice was thick with longing as she entwined her arms around his neck. “There may be no limits to your healing powers. Maybe next you can make the lame walk and raise the dead.”
He shook his head. “No, that’s your department. My soul felt as if it were completely dead. You still managed to burrow into it.”
He wasn’t flattering her. He was telling her the truth. He owed her that much.
She could feel herself slipping under the spell that only he could weave. “I’d tell you to keep talking, but it’s getting in the way.”
This time he grinned. “Of what?”
“This.”
Drawing him down to her, Clancy pressed her mouth against his. The fireworks were instantaneous, as if they’d barely been held in abeyance.
He grazed her lips lightly with his tongue and heard her moan. “Good point.”
And so he lost another battle. Recklessly. Willfully.
All right, he swore to himself, maybe twice, but no more. And seen in the right light, this morning was only a continuation of last night. If he didn’t count the time in between when he’d dozed off.
Rationalizing. He was just rationalizing.
Mitch knew that he would do anything he had to just to have another sample of her body. Just to make love with her one more time.
This time he was less gentle, more urgent. Whether it was because he now knew that he couldn’t physically hurt her or because he knew what wondrous things were in store, he wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter.
All he knew was that making love with her was like taking a ride through the rapids in a small rubber raft. The trip was fast, exhilarating and breathtaking.
And while it was happening, it seemed to go on without end.
It was even more wondrous than it had been. Last night making love with Clancy had seemed almost ethereal. Today, with the sun streaming in the window, highlighting everything, the very act seemed to have the stamp of reality.
And yet it was still a dream. For it would never be a permanent part of his life. He couldn’t do that to her. She deserved so much more than he could possibly ever give her.
For all he could give her was himself, the son of a thief. A man who wasn’t even true to his principles. It seemed like a very poor trade for the rapture she offered to him in exchange.
Clancy gave herself up to the magic, to the wild, erotic tastes as her lips trailed over his skin. To the sensual feeling that battered her body from all sides, swallowing her up. Cocooning her.
She drew her hands into his hair, her breath growing shorter and shorter as he possessed her, as his hands kneaded and caressed, soothed and aroused. And made her utterly crazy.
It was almost, she thought, as if everything else hadn’t really happened. Stuart, the accident, all that lost time in between—none of it had happened. It had always been like this, with Mitch in her bed, loving her, making her feel wonderful. It was all a continuous thread that hadn’t been broken.
And more important, she vowed to herself, somehow she was going to make sure that the thread would never be broken again.
Because she knew that she still loved him.
Chapter Twelve
It was happening. Exactly what he didn’t want to happen.
He’d gotten so wrapped up in Clancy, in helping her, in just being with her, that everything else had become blurred and out of focus. Since they’d made love for the first time a few days ago—was it just a few days?—everything had somehow been pushed into the background.
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