Jacob used both thumbs to part her sex. Dragging the silk back and forth across her center, he tormented her. Ariel’s whimper spurred him on. With a quick snap of his wrist, he ripped the cloth, never noticing when the silk floated away.
Now she was completely bare, utterly vulnerable. He stepped deeper into the water until he could move her legs around his neck. Her thighs, now spread wide by his shoulders, glistened wet in the moonlight. He put his mouth at her center and suckled her.
Ariel’s shocked cry ricocheted over the surface of the water. She tasted of salt and secrets. With his tongue, he probed. Once. And again.
She writhed in his grasp, no longer able to obey his instruction to be still. He licked and nibbled and thrust until she went rigid for half a second and cried out his name as she came.
Barely waiting for the last tremors to fade from her limbs, he scooped her into his arms and strode toward the beach. Ariel’s body was dead weight, her lips parted, her eyes still closed. When he reached the blanket, he laid her down gently and reached for his shirt to dry her.
As though she were helpless, he carefully ran the soft, warm cloth over every inch of her body. “Look at me,” he said, tossing the damp shirt aside. “I’m going to make love to you now. Ariel?”
Her lashes fluttered. Her eyes, glazed with the dregs of physical pleasure, gazed at him in mute supplication. “I didn’t know it could feel like that,” she said, the words barely audible. “More. I want more.”
The imperious demand dragged a laugh from his tight throat, though he would have sworn he was beyond amusement. “Whatever the princess desires.”
He paused. “I have condoms in my pants pocket,” he said. “Don’t move.”
She grasped his wrist. “I’m on the pill.”
Surely she wasn’t that naive. “There are other considerations, Ariel. Have you been to a doctor recently? Been tested?”
Lifting up onto her elbows, she looked him straight in the eye. “On my mother’s life, I swear. You have nothing to fear from me.”
A doctor never gambled on human life. But Jacob had never known Ariel to lie. And God knew, he wanted to feel her without any barriers between them. “You’re sure?” His own past was no issue.
“Positive.”
On his knees, he scooped her bottom into his hands and pulled her thighs over his. He looked his fill, laughing when Ariel squirmed in embarrassment.
“Quit staring,” she said. “Let’s get on with it.”
“Haven’t you ever heard about savoring the anticipation?”
“I’ve savored quite enough, thank you. I want you, Jacob Wolff.”
He leaned forward, positioning the head of his shaft at her entrance. The skin covering his penis was so tight it was painful to touch. Shifting his weight onto his arms, he pressed into her.
Ariel tensed beneath him. “Slowly, please.”
He understood her desire to drag out the pleasure, but what she asked for was going to be difficult. He wanted all of her. Now.
“I’ll do my best, but you’re squeezing me so damn beautifully, my eyes may bug out.”
He shoved again, gaining maybe an inch, and met resistance. Considerable resistance. Cursing the darkness for making her expression hard to decipher, he stilled, his body trembling. What the hell? “Ariel?” he questioned hoarsely.
She bit her lip. He could see that much. “This is a first for me, Doc,” she said flippantly, “so take it easy.” Her tone didn’t match her words. Ariel’s husky voice shook with emotion.
Jacob’s brain couldn’t wrap itself around the obvious conclusion. “You’re a virgin?” The tabloid princess, the ultimate party girl was a virgin? It didn’t compute.
“Do you really want to discuss this now, or do you want to finish what you’ve started?”
The tart bite in her words reminded him that Ariel Dane was no shrinking flower. His body throbbed in agony, the interruption interminable. In some small corner of his brain, he acknowledged that she had outwitted him. Had he known the truth, this moment would never have come to pass.
“Damn you,” he groaned, surging forward until the barrier was breached. Her cry of discomfort and the tear that trickled down her cheek lashed him with a thousand arrows of guilt.
Words thick with sobs, Ariel pleaded. “Don’t be angry, Jacob. I want this. I want you. Please don’t ruin it.”
At that moment, his heart tore in his chest. A wave of tenderness far greater than any he had battled out in the water crashed over him. Using his thumb to wipe away the moisture on her cheeks, he thrust with shallow strokes until her untried body accepted him fully.
When he was seated inside her, touching her womb, he bowed his head to hers. “Relax, little princess. Breathe. I won’t move until you’re ready.” He kissed her, aching to show her how much this meant to him. They lay in the traditional missionary position now, but nothing about how he felt was ordinary.
Ariel wriggled beneath him. “I’m okay. It’s really kind of nice.”
Nice? He withdrew all the way and eased back in quickly, but not so forcefully that she couldn’t accept him. “Tell me if it’s painful,” he insisted, though in all honesty, stopping at this point would leave him writhing on the ground.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, deepening his possession. “It’s a good kind of hurt,” she insisted. “I like knowing you’re my first. I’ve waited for a man like you. Smart and noble and kind.”
Her declaration made him want to run. He was no one’s hero. The responsibility attached to such an appellation was more than he could bear. But he wanted her still, no matter what. At the end of his rope, he began to thrust in earnest, hips hammering, eyes stinging from the salt of sweat.
“Don’t talk,” he pleaded. “Just feel.”
Their bodies found a rhythm. Though she was inexperienced, she made up for it with enthusiasm and boldness. Her fingernails raked his ass. The pain was lost to the fire building in his loins. No longer able to process reasonable thought, Jacob made love to her blindly, searching for his own release, his own slice of heaven.
The end, when it came, dragged both of them to a place that was both ecstasy and pain. He felt pummeled, bruised. In some tiny corner of his brain he acknowledged the need to spare Ariel his considerable weight. But the muscles in his arms were boneless, much like the rest of him.
When he could breathe and feel his limbs, he rolled to his side, taking her with him. She curled into his embrace as naturally as if they had been lovers forever.
The moon had set, leaving the small beach wrapped in darkness. Overhead, stars glittered. He stroked her back, feeling the delicacy of her spine. “I’m not stupid,” he said, the words slurred. “You didn’t tell me you were a virgin, because you knew if you did, I would never touch you.”
She turned away from him, spooning their bodies. “You got me, Doc.”
He heard the tears she was trying so desperately not to shed. That she was upset made him feel like a bastard, a soulless son of a bitch. Without stopping to analyze, to guard his words, the truth tumbled from his lips in atonement. “I don’t regret it, Ariel. I don’t regret this. God help me, but it’s true. Tonight was a miracle. You are a miracle.”
He played with her breasts, drunk on the knowledge that no man had ever seen her like this. Didn’t she know he wasn’t worthy of her gift? He was flawed, broken. Ariel deserved so much more.
Her faint sigh was his only answer.
He shifted on top of her, moving between her legs again, sliding home with no difficulty. “Look into my eyes,” he demanded. Their bodies were joined completely, plastered together by sweat and lust and urgency. “You’ve awakened the beast,” he said, shuddering as her passage tugged at his tumescent flesh. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough of you.”
Ariel moved with him, lifting into his thrusts, curling her arms around his neck and dragging his head down to kiss him repeatedly. Her lips were sweet, eager, addictive.
He thoug
ht they reached a climax together again, but he couldn’t be sure. He didn’t know yet how to read her body. Before he could figure it out, exhaustion claimed him, rolling over him like a rogue wave, dragging him under.
Sixteen
Ariel awoke to the feel of a small crab exploring her toes. She shooed it away with a lazy kick and yawned. Night still clung to the beach, but out on the horizon faint light struggled to gain a toehold.
She catalogued her circumstances, hardly daring to acknowledge what had happened. Jacob’s left arm curled tightly beneath her breasts. They were both naked, but he had covered her with his jacket. Her feet and legs were chilled, but wherever his skin touched hers, she was toasty warm.
Her body ached pleasantly, bringing back vivid memories of how he had coaxed passion from her, the arrogant manner in which he’d exposed her sensuality and met it with masculine demand. For a first time, it had been darned near perfect.
But her chest ached with sorrow. The truth could not be denied, nor could it be spun, Hollywood fashion, into a happy ending. She was in love with a man who had no heart, a man who had buried that troublesome organ with his dead fiancée. He was kind and honest to a fault, but the walls he had built to protect himself were as fortified and impregnable as the mountain on which he lived.
Things would be far worse now. Before, she had only dreamed of what it would be like to belong to Jacob Wolff. She had spun childish fantasies of winning his trust, his admiration, his love. Now that his body had claimed hers, she knew the exhilaration of mating with him, of hearing his choked gasp as he called her name in climax.
Jacob had never wanted to be intimate with her. He’d made that clear from the beginning. It was Ariel’s fault that they now lay in a tangle of arms and legs on a deserted beach.
She ran a hand down his flank, measuring its breadth, the tautly muscled strength. Some visceral instinct told her this might be the last time he held her this way. He was the kind of man who did not tolerate mistakes, either in himself or others. Though in the midst of passion he professed not to regret their coupling, in the cold light of day saner thoughts might prevail.
And if that were so, surely she was entitled to one last memory. Carefully, she nudged him onto his back. He grumbled in his sleep, but settled as she had intended, one arm slung over his face.
Tentatively, she caressed him, noting in awe and flushed excitement the way he grew beneath her touch. Already semi-erect when she began, now he flexed and hardened, his shaft thrusting upward against his flat belly. He was beautiful and warm and alive.
Bravely, she shed his jacket. Scooting carefully, so as not to awaken him, she straddled his hips and guided him into position. Wincing from the sting of their earlier romp, she lowered herself onto his shaft.
Jacob groaned, his hands coming up to grip her ass in a bruising hold. His lashes fluttered and his eyes opened. With a groggy voice, he whispered. “Ariel?”
She leaned down to kiss him, her damp, tangled hair cloaking their faces. “I hope you don’t mind,” she teased.
“God, no.” His hips flexed, driving himself deeper. “Give me a second to catch up.”
It was clearly a rhetorical request. Though Ariel was in the dominant position, there was no question in her mind who took control.
He forced her upright. “I want to feel you.” He sat up, his hands bracing her back, and kissed her breasts, alternating in random sequences until she was panting and shivering, though her skin was burning up. His lips and teeth tugged at her nipples, initiating an ache that echoed between her thighs where their bodies were joined.
He reached between them and found that place, probing gently. The added stimulation sent Ariel careening into a stunning orgasm. Without the anxiety and discomfort of the first time, she flew higher, hit harder, fell longer.
Barely aware of anything around her, she felt Jacob jerk and shudder in his own release, his powerful loins pounding into her until she swayed like a rag doll.
Collapsing in exhaustion, she buried her face in his neck. “God in heaven, Doc,” she whispered. “You’re one hell of a man.” She doubted he heard her, because he was already asleep again.
The blanket on which they lay was damp and clammy. During the night, moisture had wicked up through the fabric. Her legs chilled rapidly where they rested against the cloth.
Suddenly, reality intruded. “Jacob,” she said urgently. “Wake up. I have to get back for shooting. Oh, Lordy. I’m never late. C’mon.”
“What…” He sat up, his arms encircling her protectively. One glance at his watch prompted a groaned curse. “It’s my fault. I should have set the alarm.”
Ariel shivered as she scrambled away to don her dress and try to finger comb her hair. “It may be okay. They’re filming at the dockyard. Perhaps he’ll rearrange and shoot the exterior ship scenes with the sailors first. Maybe he won’t mind too much that I’m missing.”
She doubted it, but Jacob’s face was grim, and she didn’t want him to feel responsible.
When they were more or less clothed, they dashed for the car. Jacob actually turned on the heat for a few minutes. In her small clutch purse, Ariel found the basics: a comb, a compact and lip gloss. Flipping down the visor mirror, she did her best to groom away a night’s worth of messy hair and makeup.
He put his hand on her wrist, halting her frantic movements. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I won’t ever forget this night.”
She stared at him across the small space. He was so ruggedly handsome, so dear. “Neither will I.”
No declarations of eternal love. No promises of a repeat. Her eyes burned and her throat closed up. She would not cry. Not in front of him, at least. She tugged her wrist free of his grasp and returned to her task.
As Jacob sent the SUV hurtling up the rough path to the main road, she moaned.
He shot her an alarmed look. “What?”
“I can’t show up in what I was wearing last night. Everyone will know exactly what we’ve been up to.”
“Then we’ll stop by the hotel first.”
“It’s in the complete opposite direction.”
Jaw clenched, gaze trained straight ahead, he bit out the words. “Then what do you want me to do, Ariel?”
She debated rapidly. Slowly, her heartbeat steadied. Exhaling a cleansing breath, she scooted toward him and put a hand on his thigh. “I don’t care. They already think we’re lovers. What does it matter? As soon as I walk into wardrobe, I’ll be changing anyway.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Ariel…” He stopped, still looking forward and not at her.
“What is it?”
“We need to talk about what happened.”
Her stomach flipped and dropped. Here was her chance to let him off the hook. “It was wonderful, Jacob. Every bit of it. Except maybe for the fact that I’m going commando under this dress.” She forced a chuckle. “But honestly, I’m fine.”
He was silent for so long, her skin began to crawl with anxiety. “I owe you an apology. I could have stopped once I knew.” The scowl darkening his classically handsome features depressed her.
“I didn’t want you to,” she said flatly. “I thought we settled this before. No regrets, remember?”
He swung out onto the so-called highway and hung a right. “A woman’s first time deserves romance, soft lighting, a comfy bed.”
She smiled, feeling a guilty little frisson of pleasure deep in her belly at the recollection of what they had shared. “The setting was romantic. We had moonlight soft as smoke, and clearly the blanket on the sand was comfy, because we slept for hours.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Real life isn’t like the movies. I know that more than anyone. But honestly, Jacob. Nothing could have made last night any more amazing.” Unless, of course, you had professed your undying love for me. “So let’s drop it.”
He was silent for the remainder of the thirty-minute trip. When they arrived at En
glish Harbor and parked, Ariel jumped out and made a beeline for the wardrobe tent, only to pull up short in dismay when she saw Rod Brinkman pacing back and forth in front of the door.
His face was red. “Where in the hell have you been?” He held up both hands, palms out. “Sorry, sorry. None of my business.”
Stumbling to a halt almost toe to toe with him, her heart quivered. “What’s the matter?” His manner was far too agitated to blame on the tardy arrival of his leading lady. It dawned on her with guilty consternation that she and Jacob had left their cell phones in the car all night.
He put his hands on her bare shoulders, petting her gently. “Your mother is in ICU.”
Ariel crumpled, her knees giving out as terror engulfed her.
Jacob grabbed her from behind, supporting her in his arms. “I can have the jet here pretty quickly.”
Brinkman shook his head. “No need. We’ve already got you two on the next flight to L.A. It leaves in thirty minutes. Airport officials are waiting and will hold the plane if necessary. I threw my weight around a little,” he confessed with a grimace. “Harriet has brought your bags. There’s no time to change. She’s put clean clothes for each of you in your carry-on. And she’ll drive you. Go,” he said, his florid face filled with sympathy. “Go see your mother, Ariel. We’ll be here when you get back.”
She scarcely knew what happened in the next eight hours. Possibly, Jacob gave her something in a drink to make her sleep. There was a plane change in Houston—a transfer to the Wolff jet—that much she remembered. But the rest of it was a blur.
On the flight from Antigua to Houston, passengers recognized her. Everyone knew the film was being shot on the island. In other circumstances, Ariel would have been embarrassed for people to see her looking so disheveled, but given the current situation, she neither noticed, nor cared.
The flight crew had been apprised of the situation, and the attendants were both solicitous and understanding. Through it all, Jacob was a bulwark, shielding her from unnecessary conversation and surrounding her with an almost visible cloak of caring and concern.
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