He made his way through the cutting cold, looking every place he could think of close to the house. Even though he kept moving, he could feel the cold making his hands in his pockets tingle and his feet begin to feel slightly numb.
The snow was coming down in icy particles that stung his face when he called out to Madison. And when he finally turned around and started back, it was because he realized he’d gone in a circle and hadn’t even known it until he found himself by the gates again. He looked around and knew that there was no way he could find her by himself.
He was the man who made million-dollar business decisions on the turn of a dime, but right then he couldn’t think of how to find her. He went back toward the house, running as fast as he could. Maybe the phone was back on. Or maybe he could use the car phone if it had a signal here. If nothing else, he could try to drive the car onto the main road and hope that some emergency vehicles were out looking for stranded motorists so he could get help.
He felt as if he were running underwater, his feet leaden and heavy with each step. And he fought against imaginings of Madison lying in the snow, in the cold, not breathing and being buried by the white blanket. It seemed an eternity before he finally got to the house and stumbled into the entry hall.
He didn’t have any idea where a phone was downstairs, so he ran for the stairway and rushed up to the suite. He burst through the door, into a room filled with warmth and the flickering light of the fire, and he ran for the phone. The hand that reached for the receiver was shaking, partly from going from the biting cold into the warmth, but mostly from the growing fear. That aching dread that ate at his middle and threatened to overwhelm him.
He couldn’t lose her like this, he couldn’t, even if she could never be his.
“Steven?”
The hand that touched the receiver froze, then he spun around and Madison was there, whole and safe, and incredibly beautiful. In a short white robe, her moisture-darkened hair slicked back from her face and resting damply on her shoulders.
His imaginings again? For a heartbeat, he didn’t know if he’d produced her out of his own fear and need and desire. Or if she was really there, looking as if she had just stepped out of a shower.
He didn’t give himself time to think before he went across to her to prove to himself that she was real by reaching out for her. Silently, he pulled her to him and he knew she was more than real, as real as his overwhelming relief she was here. She was everything in this world to him. Everything he wanted or could ever want.
“I thought you were... The storm, and the snow... You went outside...” His voice was muffled as he buried his face in her damp hair. “Oh, God,” he whispered, despising the way his heart was hammering and hating the horrible feeling that he’d almost lost her. “I was so scared.”
She wasn’t his to lose. He knew that. But there was no way he could let her go right now.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to get some fresh air.” She’d worked her hands under his jacket someway and was touching his back as she rested her head neatly in the hollow of his shoulder. “I’m used to snow. I grew up with so much white stuff the house was almost buried. I’ve been through a lot worse,” she whispered.
“I haven’t,” he admitted with aching truth and kept holding her. But his reasons for embracing her were shifting and changing with each beat of his heart. Every rational reason to let her go was blotted out by a need for this woman that was all-encompassing.
It was so right to hold her and feel her against him. To have her warmth mingling with his, to feel every soft curve and angle of her body through the thin terry cloth of her robe. He didn’t want to lose her on any level, and now that he had her like this, he didn’t want it to stop.
When she moved back and shifted her hands to press them against his chest, he knew a love for her that seemed clear and sure. As sure as his next breath. As positive as the fact that nothing made any difference right now. He knew a love that felt as if it could heal and make things right. And when he lowered his head to taste her lips, he knew how right he was.
When he felt the silky heat of her lips under his and the way she moved closer to him, the need that had been there from the first moment he saw her exploded into a fire that seared him from the inside out. When her lips parted in invitation, white-hot passion consumed him. She met him kiss for kiss, the moans of his own mingling with hers, and when the robe slipped back and off her shoulders, he knew there was no turning back.
Chapter Fourteen
Madison had made a monumental decision when she’d been hiking back to the house. And by the time she stepped under the hot shower and washed away the chill in her, she knew she’d made the right decision. She was going to tell Steven the truth about “the marriage.”
She knew that Ron wouldn’t approve, or that she wasn’t sure just exactly what she expected to gain from it. But she hated lying, and every time she lied to Steven it only made her loathe it more.
Then she’d stepped out of the shower, put on her robe and heard him come into the suite. She didn’t know where he’d been when she came back to the house, but she’d been happy to slip upstairs and warm up before she decided how to tell him.
Then he was there, standing in the middle of the room, half-frozen, and when he’d come to her and pulled her into his arms, she went willingly. It was right, so perfect, to be there, and she didn’t care why or how she got there. She just wanted to stay forever.
When he kissed her, the world fell away, and everything made sense. She loved him, and for that moment in time, that was enough for her. When he slipped her robe off her shoulders and his cold touch shocked her, it only added to her need. She wanted to share her heat with him, to banish all the cold and the outside world. She wanted to be with this man, to hold and to love him.
She met his kiss with her kiss, and the contact was deep and searching, and as binding as any bonds forged from iron. She moved closer, pushing back his jacket until it slipped off him and she circled his neck, burying her fingers in his snow-dampened hair.
“Oh, Steven,” she breathed as she pressed a kiss to his throat and felt his hands on her back, slipping low to pull her against him.
“I want you.” The words were a rough whisper that vibrated through her, and she held more tightly to him.
“Yes,” she breathed, reality a thing of the past. All she wanted was here and now. She wanted Steven. To lie with him, and love him.
With a low groan, he swept her into his arms, and she buried her face in his chest as he carried her into the bedroom. She had that sensation of again being safe and protected, and no matter how it stormed outside, she was sheltered in this man’s arms.
Then they were on the bed, and Steven drew back. She opened her eyes and looked up, afraid that he was going to back away again, but instead she found him stripping off his clothes. And when he stood there naked, she knew that any imaginings she’d had weren’t even close to the reality.
His body was sleek and hard, with a slight tanning that defined a muscular build. And he wanted her. He couldn’t hide that fact, and he didn’t try to. As he came back to her, settling down on the bed with her, he reached out and brushed her cheek with one finger. But the feathery contact was as powerful as any embrace.
“Are you sure?” he whispered hoarsely.
“Oh, yes,” she said, reaching up to capture his hand and pull it down to her heart. “Oh, yes.”
Then he came to her, bracing himself over her to look down, and the burning need deep in his eyes was an emotional reality. She loved him. It was so simple, and she reached up to pull him down to her.
She wanted him, and the urgency in her exploded. She kissed him as if she’d never kissed before and as if she never would again. She tasted and savored him, and when his hands touched her and explored her, she strained toward the heat of his touch.
He found her breasts, cupping their weight, and his fingers teased her nipples into buds of tender feeling that pulled at invisi
ble strings that went to the core of her being. She moaned as pleasures built in her, sensations that were almost painful, almost frightening. Then his hand moved lower, and his fingers splayed on her stomach, then dipped lower to find the center of all her feeling.
Her hips raised instinctively, yearning toward the pressure of his touch. When he made slow circles against her, she threw her head back, lost in the shards of ecstasy that shimmered through her. And the fire built. It grew and grew, threatening to consume her, but just before she knew she would explode, he stopped.
“No,” she gasped, and opened her eyes to see him so close to her that she could see every breath he took. “Please. Please.”
In a fluid movement, he came closer, then she felt his velvety strength test her. She skimmed her hands down his bare back to his hips and pulled him to her. With aching slowness, he entered her, filling her and making her gasp when the feelings he gave her overwhelmed her.
He stopped for a moment. “Madison?” he whispered from the fog of pleasure that swirled around her.
She arched higher to him, and he filled her completely, but he didn’t move in her. He waited until she looked up at him, then he gave her a hard, quick kiss and started to rock. With each stroke, she found more pleasure than she thought she could bear. Yet it went on and on, building and growing to the point that she knew pain surely had to come.
But it didn’t. The pleasures simply expanded until she felt that every atom of ecstasy in the world was in her. Every pleasure known to women was with her. She rose to meet each thrust, giving herself up to the moment, and as the friction intensified, she arched back farther.
When she was sure she could die from the feelings in her, she felt the world burst and hurtle her into a place that she’d never even known existed before Steven. She held to him as she cried out, and she heard her name ringing around her as the world broke into shimmering rays of ecstasy. A place for herself and Steven and no one else. Nothing else.
And she never let go of him as the pleasures began to recede, and the mellowness of complete satisfaction filtered into her heart. “Oh, yes,” she whispered as she snuggled into him, and she closed her eyes tightly. She didn’t want anything to intrude, not even the sight of the room around them or the storm outside.
As she drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep in Steven’s arms, she realized that she’d never told him about not being married. And she had never told him she loved him.
* * *
STEVEN WOKE SLOWLY to warmth and a sense of satisfaction that permeated every atom of his being. In a single heartbeat he knew the source of both comforts. Madison. And he lay very still.
She was on her side in front of him, with her back against his chest. His arm circled her waist and his legs were tangled with hers. With each breath he took, he inhaled the heat of her skin and that heady scent that was peculiar to her.
It was a suspension of time, a place where anything was possible and all pleasures survived. And if he didn’t move, if he didn’t take too deep a breath, maybe it could go on forever.
But he knew that couldn’t be when he felt her sigh and whisper, “Are you awake?” He was tempted to stay quiet and still and not move or think about anything but having her with him.
“Steven?” she breathed.
He exhaled, then touched his lips to the curve of her shoulder, giving up any pretense of sleep. She shifted onto her back so she was looking at him in the soft shadows of the quiet room. “You’re awake,” she said.
He raised himself on his elbow and looked down at her, his hand moving of its own volition to trace the curve of her waist and hip. “I’m awake,” he said softly.
He thought he’d been satisfied before, but his body was responding with a hunger that shocked him. His impulse was to hold on to her, to kiss her and explore her and ask her to make love with him again and again and again.
He saw her gaze linger on his lips, and his body tightened with the anticipation of kissing her again. But she didn’t move for a long moment, and when she spoke, he could feel a sense of dread starting to nudge out the pleasure.
“I guess we should talk about things,” she said.
He stopped her words with an unsteady finger pressed to her lips. “No, not yet,” he said. If they talked, this could all go up in smoke. It could all be gone, and he knew he couldn’t deal with that, not yet.
She kissed his finger as she lifted a hand to touch his chest. “But I need to—”
He groaned softly and quickly kissed her, a hard, fierce caress, then he drew back. “No, don’t. I know. I just don’t understand how I could have let this all happen.” He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about her marriage. “But it did.”
It was her turn to touch his lips with the tips of her fingers, and it was almost his undoing to feel the unsteadiness in her touch. “Things aren’t like you think. But it’s not important. It’s not a problem.”
“What?”
“There’s no one but you,” she said as she shifted to face him more and touch his jaw. “No one but you.”
Then there were no words between them. She came to him and kissed him as if she could make the world go away. He trembled at the intensity of his feelings for her, and he gave in to the need and the desperate hunger growing in him.
Their first lovemaking had been slow and exploring as two people came together as one. But this time was raw hunger. A need that drove them both, with fiery kisses and touches, sensations building to a crescendo of almost painful ecstasy. Her need was as great as his, and he knew as he spanned her waist and shifted to lift her over him that if he made love to her for an eternity, the second after they stopped, he’d want her again.
They made love as he slowly eased her down on his aching desire, and when he filled her, she cried out. Tears silently slipped down her cheeks. As they began to move together, their actions in perfect unison, he gave way to the feelings and the knowledge that for now he was whole and complete. For now, he loved her with an intensity that knew no bounds.
And when they climaxed, two voices cried out into the shadows. Even as the sensations began to ease and mellow into satisfaction, they didn’t leave each other. Together they rolled onto their sides and held tightly.
He lay there with Madison in the silent shadows until his arm under her neck was numb and his body started to respond to her closeness once again. When he couldn’t stand it any longer, he eased back from her and slipped out of bed.
Without looking back at her, he crossed to the bathroom and went inside. Closing the door before he turned on the light, he blinked at the harsh glow from the overhead lamp and turned. He caught sight of himself in the mirrors over the vanity and grimaced.
He’d never touched a married woman before. He’d never wanted to until Madison. If he was honest, he had to admit that he’d wanted her from the first, married or not. But that didn’t make what had happened any less repugnant to him now that she wasn’t in his arms and he had some distance.
“It’s not important. It’s not a problem,” she’d said, but it was important and it was a problem. In the cruel light of reason, he was disgusted with himself.
He turned on the water, cupped it in his hands and splashed it on his face, then grabbed a towel and scrubbed at the moisture. He knew that if he went back into the room and had one glimpse of Madison in the bed, he’d forget any decency or honor. And he knew what he’d told her about leaving had to become a reality as quickly as possible.
He flipped off the light and quietly went back into the bedroom. Without chancing a glimpse at the bed, he found his clothes and carried them out into the sitting room. As he went out the door, he heard Madison shift, then sigh and it made him stop. He closed his eyes tightly, fighting the need to turn and go back to her, but when silence was all he heard behind him, he kept going.
He’d barely stepped into his jeans when the door from the corridor flew open and Wyatt burst into the room. “Dad, Dad, you won’t believe what we had t
o do!”
Steven finished zipping his jeans, snapped the fastener and said, “What’s going on? How did you get here? Harvey said you were pretty much snowed in.”
Wyatt grinned at that. “Uncle Harvey got this guy to plow the road so he could drive the car back, and guess what? He let me ride on the plow. It was awesome, Dad.” The smile faltered. “We can’t go skiing ‘cause the snow’s too fluffy or something, but he says we can come up and ski anytime we want to, all of us.”
Steven slipped on his navy top as Wyatt spoke, then he said, “Where are Harvey and Darla now?”
“They’re getting changed and Mrs. Henderson’s going to make dinner—tacos and enchiladas and all sorts of stuff. I came to get you and Madison.” He looked past Steven again. “Where is she?”
Before he could answer, Madison spoke from behind him, and he could feel every nerve in his body tense at the sound of her voice. “I’m here.”
Wyatt pushed past Steven and hurried to the bedroom door. “I got to ride on a snowplow. Isn’t that great?”
“I rode on a plow a lot of times when I was growing up. My dad used to drive one.”
Steven didn’t turn. He stared at the door to the hallway, fighting the urge to head for it and escape.
“You’re kidding? Really?”
“I’m not kidding. The first big snowfall we had for the year, my dad got us kids on the plow and we cleared the road from our place to the highway.”
“Oh, wow, that’s way cool. Uncle Harvey had to pay the guy to let me ride on it with him.”
“It sounds as if you had a great time.”
“Yeah, I sure did. Dad?”
Steven closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them as he turned. He knew Wyatt was there, but all he saw was Madison. The image burned into his mind and soul, the silky hair falling around her shoulders, the robe pulled around her, one hand clutching the lapels together, and her cheeks faintly flushed from their lovemaking.
The Christmas Husband Page 18