The voice in his head sounded again. Get out! Get out while you still can!
Joanna must have heard, too, for her voice responded. Stay. Stay awhile with me. Just lie here with me ‘til dawn.
Love and needs, doubts and fears, swirled inside his mind until they were so jumbled that he couldn’t tell one from the other. Her kiss stirred a fire in his blood that raced through his veins. Heat pooled in his groin.
He could tell the instant she realized he was hard, for she went still. Even her breath stopped. Then, she nudged her hips against his.
Pace pulled away from her lips, but not her hips. He started to tell her not to get her hopes up, that this didn’t mean anything, but she blocked his words with her fingers over his mouth.
“Don’t say it. Don’t say anything. Whatever happens, Pace, I don’t care. Don’t you know that just lying in your arms and feeling you hold me is enough?”
He twisted his head to free his mouth from her touch. “If you were feeling what I’m feeling, you wouldn’t think this was enough.”
“What makes you think I’m not?”
He touched her cheek and felt it then, the heat rushing just beneath her skin. He heard the breathlessness in her voice, felt the grip of her hand on his back. With a groan, he took her mouth again, feeding on her, tasting her, devouring her, letting her know his hunger.
Her response was wild and hot and made his hands shake. This felt different than when he’d tried it before. It felt real and honest. He felt real and honest in her arms. This was right. Hadn’t he known for more than a year that she was meant to be his? Maybe what he hadn’t understood until now was that he was meant to be hers. No other woman’s. Only hers.
When had she unbuttoned his shirt? he wondered, heat and hunger fogging his mind. It didn’t matter when, only that she had, that she was touching his bare chest with her slender hands, hands he had ached for for months.
“Yes,” he whispered fiercely, trailing kisses down her neck. “Touch me. Touch me, Jo.” God, how he’d needed her touch.
She pushed his shirt wide and ran her hands over his chest, his back. With one hand he fumbled at the buttons on her blouse until one by one they came free. Aching to touch her, to feel her flesh beneath his hands, he was frustrated by her camisole, until finally that and her blouse lay in a crumpled pile on the floor. His shirt and her skirt followed.
Her breasts were larger than before. They seemed to swell to meet his mouth, just as everything inside him swelled, including the part that should. Her nipple hardened against his tongue and drew a gasping moan of pleasure from her that he’d feared he would never hear again.
A year. It had been a full year and more since he’d held her like this, tasted her, feasted on her sweetness, burned himself in her fire.
He toed off his boots, then added his pants and his drawers and hers to the pile on the floor beside the bed. Levering himself over her on arms that trembled, he felt more like a man than he ever had in his life. All he had needed was Jo. He eased himself between her thighs.
The voice, that damned voice inside his head, asked him who he thought he was kidding.
In the next instant, he knew there would be no relief for the pounding need in his blood. Of their own volition, his hips surged against Jo, seeking relief, even as his body turned traitor and denied him the means to achieve it.
“Pace?”
The word he spat from his lips was low and vicious, and not one he normally used, but the humiliating occasion seemed to call for something special. He lifted himself off of Jo and fell beside her on the bed, defeated by his own body.
Jo turned to him and spread her hands across his chest. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters!” Struggling to hold back the bellow of rage building in his chest, he threw one arm across his face. “It matters more than anything. There is such fire in you, Jo. You need a man who can answer it. You don’t need a gelding who can’t—”
She placed her fingers over his mouth again. “Stop. Don’t say anymore.” He was going to leave her. Joanna felt it in the air, in the way he tried to ignore her touch. She heard it in his voice. He was going to leave her. “Don’t say anything.”
She curled up against his side and placed her head on his shoulder, her arm across his chest. “Stay with me tonight, Pace. Stay here and hold me tonight.”
He wanted to deny her, but he couldn’t. Knowing now for certain that he was never going to be whole again, holding her, knowing she was still aroused, still burning as hot as he was, was pure torture, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her.
Her taunt that day he’d ridden in teased him. What happened, did your hands and mouth stop working too?
At least he didn’t have to leave her wanting. He could be that much of a man.
He smoothed a hand over the curve of her hip, then gently rolled her onto her back. With a wordless murmur, he flicked his tongue over one nipple, then the other, before settling on the first one and drawing it into his mouth.
He took her by surprise. Joanna nearly came off the mattress, so exquisite was the pleasure his mouth gave her. She hadn’t expected him to try again. When his hand slid down between her legs, she reached for him.
“No.” He moved his lower body out of her reach. “Let me,” he whispered against her other nipple. “Let me give you this much, at least. You were right. There’s nothing wrong with my mouth or hands.”
She understood immediately what he meant. He could not take his own pleasure, but he would give Joanna hers. She wanted to cry out at the unfairness of it all, but then his fingers parted her and one slid inside, and she did cry out, but in hot, driving pleasure rather than in protest.
“That’s it,” he whispered darkly. “Let me see your pleasure, let me feel my own through you.”
Tears formed in her eyes and slid down her temples. She wanted to deny herself the blinding pleasure if he couldn’t experience it with her. But if his only pleasure was in watching her fly apart at his touch, she would not deny him. She could not deny him.
Pace lost himself in taking her up, then easing her back down before taking her up again. With his mouth on her breast and his hand stoking her heated core, he finally sent her over the edge. If he could give her nothing more, he could give her this. It would be his parting gift, for he knew now that he couldn’t live with her. If she woke in the morning and looked at him in pity, it would kill him.
Joanna woke before dawn, naked and on top of her bedcovers, in Pace’s arms. For a moment she smiled, remembering the exquisite pleasure he had given her last night. Then she recalled why he had loved her in the manner he had, and a chill washed over her. She couldn’t fool herself into believing that his actions last night after his body had failed him were anything other than the good-bye he had intended. Now that he had shown them both that he could not make love to her, he would leave.
I can’t let him go!
There was still Kali’s last bit of advice, but could Joanna do it? In the end, would it matter? Do I have the nerve?
He might get angry. At least at first, she thought with a touch of hysterical humor. But what were his anger and her nerve, or lack thereof, compared to the rest of their lives?
Kali knew a great deal about men, so much more than Joanna did. Maybe Joanna should have done it before last night, before Pace had a chance to try, and fail. Maybe it was too late now for the plan to work.
And maybe I’m looking for an excuse to keep from making things worse if I don’t do it right.
The alternative was to do nothing and let him leave her. For Joanna that would be worse than death, because she would live through it. She would carry on, because she had a son to raise. But inside, she would be dead without Pace.
Trembling now with trepidation, she glanced out the window to gauge the light, and thereby how much time she had before Chance awoke wanting to nurse.
There was no sign of dawn yet through her west window, only the brilliant light from a full moon
.
She let her gaze roam lovingly over the man beside her, her husband. He lay sprawled across the length of her bed, one arm thrown carelessly above his head, the other reaching beneath her to curl around her waist.
This is for you, Pace. For us.
Her decision made, she eased carefully from his side, praying that he not wake up. From the bottom drawer of her wardrobe she withdrew her blue silk scarf, the same blue as Pace’s eyes when he was aroused. She crept silently back to the bed, but before joining her sleeping husband there, she eased the arm he’d had wrapped around her to join his other one stretched above his head.
Pace stirred and rubbed his cheek against his shoulder.
Joanna held her breath, then let it out when he stilled without waking. Shaking with fear—what if she did something wrong? What if what she was about to do disgusted him?—she wrapped the scarf around his wrists and tied them to the bedpost.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Don Rodrigo and the men who rode with him skirted the border patrol and crossed into Arizona Territory unseen. They reached the American town of Naco well after dark, as was his plan. Paco was waiting for him at an abandon shack on the edge of the dusty little town.
“What news?” Don Rodrigo demanded. He had finally learned to mount, ride, and dismount without help. To show off his new abilities, he swung down from the saddle.
“The half-breed is here, cousin. You were right. The woman drew him like a bee to a flower.”
“Bueno. We waste no time. Let us prepare.”
Joanna crawled onto the bed and warmed herself against Pace’s side. The room was not cold, but she was chilled with uncertainty. Her uncertainty served no purpose, however, for she knew it was too late to back down.
She didn’t want to back down. If this was her only chance to get Pace to stay with her, she would take it and be damned.
But she was still afraid.
This is Pace. What is there to be afraid of? Just love him.
The voice in her heart eased her fear. Love him. Yes, she did. And she would. With everything she had.
Closing her eyes, she let herself feel every inch of his flesh that touched hers. He was asleep. Even if he woke, his hands were tied. She could touch him any way she wanted without the distraction of him touching her.
The thought was startling, scary. Intriguing. Arousing. As she spread her hands over the muscled wall of his chest, the possibilities ran through her mind. Her pulse raced and heat flowed through her veins.
His skin was warm, almost hot to the touch. Smooth, sleek. His heartbeat was strong and steady. She kept one hand over his heart and trailed the fingers of the other over one flat male nipple. It hardened. His heartbeat sped.
Fascinated by his body’s response, she trailed her hand down his chest and traced the rim of his navel. His stomach muscles quivered. His facial muscles tightened. His breath deepened. But his eyes remained closed.
She trailed her hand lower, crossing over to follow the line of his hip, and watched, fascinated, as he grew and hardened before her eyes. She traced a path down one thigh to his knee, then up the other thigh. When she neared the thatch of thick black hair between his legs, his breath hitched and his entire body stiffened. She knew he was awake.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Slowly Joanna looked up the length of his body to his eyes. “Exploring you.”
That day in the desert, he might have grinned and asked if she liked what she saw. Joanna knew he wouldn’t do that now, and she was right. He pulled on his arms, and when they wouldn’t move he craned his neck to see why.
When Pace saw the blue scarf wrapped around his wrists and tied to the bedpost, his mind went blank. Nothing registered. He must be seeing things. He was still asleep, that’s what it was. He jerked his wrists, and the feel of the scarf tightening was real.
He jerked his head toward Joanna and swore long and low. “You tied me?” he croaked.
The pulse at the base of her throat fluttered. In fear of his anger, he hoped! But then she smiled, and a hot shiver raced down his spine. It was the smile of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted, and had just found a way to get it.
“Untie me, Joanna.”
“Not yet.” She stretched along his length and brushed her lips across his. He didn’t seem to have the presence of mind to turn his head away. Then she kissed him fully, and his mind shut down completely. Her hands played with his nipples, sending streaks of lightning to his loins. Her thigh slid across his and rubbed against the erection he knew wouldn’t last, but while it did, he savored it, savored what she was doing to him.
She moved against him like a silken feline, stirring his blood, stealing his resolve. Did she think this would work? He didn’t, but he was powerless in more ways than one to stop her. By the time she trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck his chest was heaving in a struggle for air. “What game are you playing now?”
“No game.” Her breath was hot against his neck. She rose on one arm and looked down at him while trailing her fingers back and forth across his chest, brushing each nipple in turn again and again.
“I’m not playing a game at all,” she told him, her green eyes holding his steadily. “You’re going to leave me again. Don’t bother denying it or making excuses. I’ve seen what it does to you when your body can’t do what you want it to. I won’t ask you to stay again.”
Pace swallowed, his heart racing faster. She was letting him go. A sharp blade of pain stabbed him in the region of his heart. She was letting him go.
“We haven’t spent much time together,” she told him. “Before you leave me, I want to know every inch of you. I want to know the places where your skin is softer, your muscles harder, where you have hair, where you don’t. I need to have these things to remember when you leave me.”
“Joanna…”
“No, don’t say anything. You don’t have to say or do anything. There’s not much you can do,” she added with a small smile and a quick glance at his bound hands.
Should he remind her that she had never learned to tie a decent knot? Should he point out that even if she had, she’d tied this one in such a way that all he had to do was pull it apart with his fingers?
“All you have to do is lie there and let me touch you so I’ll remember when you’re gone.”
“This is crazy.”
She flicked her tongue across his nipple. “Humor me.” Her hands brushed the breadth of his shoulders and down his biceps. “You’re so strong, your muscles so hard. I love the feel of your muscles.”
Pace swallowed and stared at the ceiling.
She moved her mouth to his shoulder and kissed the scar there. “You got this for me. Did I ever thank you? So many wounds, so many scars, for me and our son.” As she talked, she spread kisses across his chest and her hands touched him everywhere. Almost everywhere.
“You think you failed, but you didn’t,” she went on, her voice growing more husky. “You saved my life. You gave your life for mine. No other man would have done that for me. No other man would have succeeded, would have survived.”
The roaring of his blood in his ears threatened to drown out her words. “Jo, you’re killing me.”
“No. I’m touching you. Memorizing you. It’s going to be so lonely without you.” Her hand trailed down the outside of his thigh, then up the inside.
He shifted his legs apart without thinking, to give her room.
“So lonely.”
When she cupped the taut, rounded flesh between his legs, Pace groaned.
Her hand stilled. “Am I hurting you?”
He looked down. The sight of her pale hand against his dark skin and black hair made his hips move of their own accord.
She smiled at him. “No, I guess I’m not hurting you, am I?” She trailed one index finger up the length of his shaft.
Pace groaned again and closed his eyes as his flesh leaped beneath her touch.
“So smooth. I didn�
�t know. And hard. I knew that, but touching you this way is different. You’re like the finest silk wrapped around steel. What do you feel like when you’re not hard?”
Any minute he feared she would have her answer, but words were beyond him just then. Never had he thought she would touch him this way. He’d dreamed it, once, months ago. He hadn’t allowed himself to even think of it since then.
“What would silk and steel taste like?” Her breath brushed across the part of him aching to possess her, and her words inflamed him.
She wouldn’t. Surely she wouldn’t.
She did. Her hot mouth surrounded him, and it was like nothing he’d ever known. Fire erupted every place her lips and tongue touched and spread outward until there was nothing left in his mind but a red haze. His fists clenched around the scarf.
He didn’t breathe again until she kissed her way up his chest.
“Will you think of me after you leave?” she whispered.
Think? He was supposed to be able to think? She was the most passionate, most erotic creature on earth, and she was burning him alive in her fire, and he was supposed to be able to think?
“Am I shocking you?” she asked, wrapping her fingers around him. “I think I’m shocking myself. I only wanted to touch you. I didn’t know how…exciting it could be.”
He opened his eyes, but she kissed him with such hunger, such feeling, hers, and his, that his eyes slid shut again. Beneath him the bed seemed to shift. The next thing he knew, she was straddling his hips, her hand still wrapped tight around his hardness.
Slowly, agonizingly, she pulled her mouth from his and sat up. When he looked, his heart stopped. Their eyes locked, and she lowered herself on him with a sound from her throat that was half growl, half purr. Half feline. All woman.
Pace forgot that his body was supposed to fail him. He forgot that he was only half a man. Just then he felt like more man than he knew what to do with. His flesh had not been buried in hers in more than a year, and the pleasure of it was so exquisite, he didn’t care if it killed him.
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