by Pat Warren
He was allowing her to see the need in his eyes.
She could deny her own, could turn from it and walk away. But the raw need, the sudden vulnerability she saw in Joel, pulled her in neatly, completely. Surrendering, she went on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his.
Joel’s heart leapt as if released from a taut spring. His arms enfolded her as his tongue met hers in a mating dance as old as time. He scooped her into his arms and carried her to his room, then let her slide down his body before switching the bedside lamp on low.
Urgency, desire, need screamed inside him as he quickly undressed her while Hannah’s impatient fingers tugged at his clothes. Shoes dropped, shirts were flung aside, slacks slipped to the floor. A button popped as haste made way for passion. He had to be flesh to flesh with her, had to see and taste and touch before he went mad.
Finally, no barriers stood between them, and he paused, for just a moment, to fill his eyes with her beauty, to fill his hands with her breasts, heavy with arousal. Then he backed her up to the bed and followed her onto the navy quilt.
She was on fire. Whispers of heat skittered over her skin where he touched, across her lips where he kissed, in her ear where his warm breath had her shivering. Restlessly, Hannah arched, needing more, impatient for fulfillment, yet wanting to prolong this delicious torture. His mouth moved to her breast, and she felt the tug deep inside.
She was naked in his bed, where he’d wanted her to be since that first day, Joel realized. Her eyes as they stared up at him were misty with the first flush of passion as her restive fingers moved to fist and bunch at his back. She was everything beautiful, everything lovely, everything he’d ever wanted.
He watched dim light play across her lovely face as she waited, still hesitant to take the lead, the shadow of that other man’s words controlling her memory. Anger at what he’d done to her rose in Joel, hot and fierce. He wanted to remove all traces of anyone who’d ever touched her, anyone who’d ever hurt her.
“If Paul didn’t find pleasure with you, it was his fault, not yours. Know that. Always know that.” His eyes bore into hers, wanting to brand her mind with new memories, new pleasures. “Do you believe me?”
She did. She could see the truth in his eyes. Her hand on his heart could feel what she did to him. He’d been aroused before they’d stepped in the door. Because of her, of what she could do to him. The knowledge warmed her, made her bolder.
“Yes,” she answered, then touched her mouth to the pounding pulse in his neck while her hands stroked, searching for his weak spots, his pleasure points. She heard him draw in a quivery breath and felt the power of making him tremble. For her.
His reaction gave her confidence, so she pushed him onto his back and sent her lips on a journey of him, letting his special male flavors seep into her. She felt his heartbeat go wild under her roaming mouth and discovered a new high. Nothing in her limited experience had prepared her for this kind of feeling. So much feeling in this freedom to do what she would to his magnificent body. Moving back up him, she took his mouth, desperate for that state of euphoria only he could bring to her.
This kiss was savage in its intensity, both of them running out of patience and edgy with need. She’d wanted to savor, to go slowly, but it was too late. Her body demanded, and she had no choice but to drag him closer, wrapping herself around him. For Hannah, for the first time, the world had zeroed down to one man, one bed, one room. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else was real except the way he made her feel, the way she could make him react.
Joel was lost in her, totally absorbed. No other woman had ever been able to make him want this way. His mouth still on hers, he shifted their positions, then slid into her so easily, as naturally as if they’d been lovers for years.
He’d wanted this, needed this, and now strove to make it the best for her. She was so ready that in moments, he felt her swirl away to a place only he had ever taken her. Feeling powerful, he let go of the world outside the one of their own making.
Hannah had no idea how much time passed before she became aware again. Limp and utterly spent, she lay with her eyes closed, absorbing the aftershocks. She didn’t mind the weight of him pressing on her or his skin damp beneath her touch. Instead, she was comforted by his solid presence. A feeling of peace stole over her as her heart slowed. She sighed, feeling wonderfully replete.
Hannah raised her hand to brush back Joel’s hair from where his head lay on her shoulder. It was so new, this desire to caress, to stroke, to explore this beautiful man who seemed more than willing to let her. Her fingers slipped down along his neck, then trailed across his broad shoulders and finally settled at his back. How steadfast he was, how strong.
She felt her blood humming, satisfaction causing her to wiggle and squirm like a contented cat. She wasn’t surprised when he lifted his head to look at her. She smiled at him lazily.
Joel couldn’t take his eyes from her. He wondered if she’d ever believe how lovely she looked, the blush of passion still on her face, pleased with her own sensuality. “I love you, Hannah. So very much.”
She sobered immediately, wariness tensing her. “Joel, don’t. I don’t need those words. I…”
He eased back from her, shifting to his side. “I’ve never known anyone who needed them more. But that’s not why I said them. I said them for me, because I’m so full of the feeling, and because it’s true.”
She pulled back, needing some distance. Saying the words meant moving into commitment. There was so much in her past to remind her of the risks involved with commitment. She’d become truly intimate with him, allowing him to get closer to knowing her than anyone before him. She’d let him become too important to her. That made her vulnerable, made her frightened.
Once before, she’d thought herself in love, and had come to realize she’d been too trusting and naive. Time had made her infinitely more cautious.
Joel saw her withdrawing, not just physically. He had to assure her, to reassure her, that he wasn’t like the man who haunted her nightmares. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not going to happen. I love you. I want to be with you for all time. Marry me, Hannah.”
Her gasp of surprise was audible as she swung back toward him. “You don’t mean that. I know you don’t. You’re caught up in the moment and…”
“I’ve never meant anything more in my life.” Joel sat up, twisting around to face her. “You asked me recently why I didn’t just move to Montana since I seemed happier there. I did that once, and still something was missing. I thought my career was the problem, but I realize now that it’s not that, either.”
“What is it, then?”
“I want a home, Hannah, one like Bart and Elizabeth had. All along, I’ve been thinking home is a place. It’s not. Home is a person, the person who shares your life, the place you live in and everything else. We could live in Boston or Montana. Or Bora Bora, Iceland, the dark side of the moon. I don’t care as long as we’re together. Home to me is you, Hannah. Marry me, please.”
Hadn’t she been searching for a home all her life, as well? But commitments scared her. What if she disappointed him?
They came from vastly different backgrounds. His ancestors had probably come over on the Mayflower. Hers had been farmers, and all of them were gone now. How could she even think that.the well-heeled Merricks would want to taint their pure bloodline with the bluecollar likes of her family tree?
She remembered something else. “I probably can’t have children,” she said quietly.
“You don’t know that for sure. If you can’t, we’ll adopt.” He watched her carefully as she slipped back into silence. Again, he waited.
She’d been quiet so long he couldn’t help but wonder what was going on behind those suddenly hooded brown eyes. He’d stated his feelings, hopefully made his case. He wouldn’t rush her, wouldn’t try to win by more persuasion. She had to want this as much as he, or nothing would work out.
Finally, she looked up. “It’s not that
I don’t want to, but…”
“But you’re afraid to trust me,” he finished for her.
“Yes, that’s part of it. And then, there’s your family. Your father wasn’t terribly impressed with me in our brief meeting. How would he feel about your marrying a farmer’s daughter who came from nothing?”
“Now you’re really reaching. You’re a beautiful, successful, dynamic attorney with a great future. Educated, funny, charming. And besides, what’s wrong with being a farmer’s daughter?”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it, but your father—”
“Has nothing whatsoever to say about my choices. I think I’ve proved that by leaving his firm, by spending time in Montana, by taking a stand against him if I thought I was right and he was wrong.” He was doing what he’d sworn he wouldn’t, trying to win her over by persuasion. Joel sucked in a frustrated breath.
“I know you’ve opposed your father several times. But you’re not comfortable with the way he views your decisions or the way he treats you because of them. If we married, there’d be more of that, and on a more personal level. I don’t want to come between you and your family.” That said, she pulled the sheet about her protectively.
“You’re not. You wouldn’t be.” Joel shoved a hand through his hair, wondering what in hell he could say to convince her. “Look, our families, dead or alive, aren’t important to this decision. We are. I’ve already told you how I feel. You have only one question to answer. Do you love me?”
Did she? Time to face the truth. Hadn’t she known it for weeks now? Perhaps she’d been expecting love to announce its arrival in some dramatic fashion. She’d discovered it was far more subtle.
If loving was wanting, needing, to share each little victory, each terrible disappointment, with only him, then she had a bad case of it. If it was having his face intrude on her thoughts hourly, his comments coming to mind frequently, his pleasure becoming more important than hers, then she was surely there. Yes, she loved him. Indisputably. Irrevocably. Undeniably. Did that change anything, remove her fears, assure them a bright and happy future?
Unfortunately, no.
Hannah couldn’t meet his eyes as emotions twisted and churned inside her. She moved into his arms, clutching at him, wishing she could be all that he wanted, everything he needed. “I care about you and…and I’m beginning to need you. Far too much. That frightens me terribly. I’ve lost so many. I don’t think I can survive another loss.”
He held on to her, spoke into her hair. “Not everyone you love leaves, Hannah. I won’t. Not ever. You couldn’t chase me away with a stick.”
Dare she believe him? Oh, God, she wanted to. Her life had been so serene before Joel had entered it. Boring, lonely, dull—but not filled with emotional turmoil as it was now. A part of her longed for that peace again. The other, larger part longed for him.
“I don’t know, Joel.” She sighed deeply and pulled back. “I don’t think I can do this. You deserve better.”
His patience was strained to the limit. “That’s ridiculous. You need me and I need you. What could be better?”
Needing someone. The whole concept had her mind whirling. Slowly, she shook her head. “I think you should find someone who’s whole and problem free. I’m just not ready to trust, to love again. All my life, people have…”
“Abandoned you. Yes, I know.” His eyes reflected his disappointment in her, in himself for not being enough for her. “Your father, your mother, your grandparents, Paul, the Murrays—they all left you. Ergo, everyone else will, too. No exceptions.” He slipped out of bed and reached for his pants, his movements abrupt and choppy. “Okay. So run away. Pack up and move. Back to Michigan or some new place. Or stay here and steer clear of anyone who dares to care for you. Help total strangers, but don’t get too close. Don’t let yourself care. Walk alone. Love no one and, for God’s sake, don’t let them love you.”
Hannah could see he was more than a little angry. She couldn’t blame him. Woodenly, she picked up her clothes and began dressing.
Over. It was over. He was going to let her go. Wasn’t that what she wanted?
No! It wasn’t, not really. She wanted things to stay the same. To remain friends, loving friends. She wanted him in her life, but she wasn’t sure she could handle more. Marriage. Lord, she’d never once considered it, removing the word from her vocabulary years ago. Marriage was for others, normal people who had no trouble trusting, loving.
Hannah stepped into her slacks, then slipped her sweater over her head. Why couldn’t he be content with a caring friendship? Why did he have to complicate things? Now he’d never want to see her again, probably. He’d find someone else, laugh with them, make love with them.
Shoving back her hair, she walked to stand and look out the window. But she didn’t see the view, looking instead inward, seeing her life stretching out ahead, vast and empty. Without Joel in it, her days would be bleak, colorless. Her nights would be a living torment. Tears she couldn’t seem to prevent came rolling down her cheeks. Bending her head, she muffled out a sob, struggling with the reality of still another loss.
And this time, she had no one to blame but herself.
Joel shoved his feet into his shoes, his thoughts dark. There for a minute, he’d thought they were in agreement. Then she’d retreated into her fears again, her mistrust leading the way. How could he fight that unseen enemy?
Sighing, he decided he’d take her home, make sure the apartment was secure and let her be. He couldn’t push, not more than he already had. Turning, he looked over at her. To his surprise, he thought he saw her shoulders moving slightly, the thick curtain of hair hiding her face. Was she crying?
Slowly, he walked over and turned her around to face him. He saw her damp cheeks, her downcast eyes, her trembling lips. Hope flared within him as he pulled her into his arms.
With a moan, Hannah clung to him. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. But I…I need some time.” She hiccuped around a shaky breath. “I won’t blame you if you can’t wait.”
“Take all the time you need,” he said into her hair, his voice husky. He could wait, knowing this was how she felt. He could be patient a while longer. He eased back and wiped away her tears with his thumbs as he smiled into her damp eyes. “Just don’t take too long, please.”
“I’ll try not to. I just need to think things through, to get used to these brand-new feelings.”
He kissed her eyes, then gently kissed her mouth. “I’ll try to be patient. I love you, Red.”
At last, she could smile. “Thank you.”
It was Wednesday, a little past five, and everyone at Maggie’s Haven was gathered around the small donated television set in the rec room. In a moment, after the headline news, Curt Wheeler would be on the air with his “Wednesday’s Child” portion of the program. This week, his featured guest was Sheila Barns.
Seated on the floor next to Sheila, Hannah felt the young girl’s hand creep into hers. She gave it an encouraging squeeze. “It’s going to be wonderful, just wait and see.”
Nervously, Sheila chewed on her lower lip.
Seven assorted teens and two younger new arrivals, all current residents, crowded around as Maggie passed out homemade cookies. A heavy-set jovial woman, Maggie walked among her young charges. “Take a couple, kids. There’s milk in the kitchen.” Dinner had been served early tonight so they could all watch together.
The news segment ended, and the camera closed in on Curt’s pleasant face. The father of four teens himself, Curt was well-known in the Boston area for his commitment to helping kids of all ages. “Now it’s time for this week’s ‘Wednesday’s Child,’” he began. “Our special young lady is Sheila Barns, who is twelve years old. I spent a fun afternoon with Sheila last week and I can personally tell you she’s quite an ice skater.”
The scene shifted to an outdoor rink where Curt and Sheila, along with the usual assortment of weekend skaters, made their way around the perimeter.
Curt was a little wobbly, but not Sheila. She was steady and unafraid, even shifting to skate backward for a bit.
“Hey, where’d you learn to skate like that, Sheila?” a freckle-faced boy about thirteen asked, squinting at her through thick glasses.
“I don’t know,” Sheila answered, her eyes riveted to the screen. “I just picked it up.” She leaned closer to Hannah. “Do you think my hair looks funny?”
Hannah smiled. “Your hair looks lovely. The wind’s just blowing it around.”
Curt’s voice went on to explain a little about Sheila’s background, leaving out the rough parts, mentioning that she’d tested as having quite a high IQ, that.she loved sports, movies and puppies and hoped to be adopted by a family who liked those things, too. Next, they showed the two of them, man and young girl, building a snowman in the park, then drinking hot chocolate at an outdoor stand. Curt ended with a close-up of Sheila smiling shyly into the camera while his voice-over repeated the phone number appearing at the bottom of the screen and urged anyone interested in the young girl to call him.
The entire segment had lasted only about four minutes, yet the residents gathered around Sheila cheered and applauded as if they’d just finished watching their favorite movie. Hannah was warmed by their reaction, knowing full well that most of these kids could use a similar boost. She’d gone with Sheila during the filming and had already talked with Curt about selectively supplying him with more candidates for “Wednesday’s Child” specials.
Now she looked down at the blushing girl so unused to being the center of attention. “You were perfect, simply perfect.”
Wide eyes looked up at her. “Do you think anyone will call Mr. Wheeler about me?”
“Honey,” Maggie interjected, “I’ll bet those phone lines are already lit up like that Christmas tree over there.”