After Midnight Page 21

  She shivered. It was the most erotic sensation she’d ever had, the breeze on her bare breasts and a man’s sultry gaze appreciating them.

  “Arch your back, little one,” he whispered. “Offer them to me.”

  She must be crazy. She was certain that she was. Her back began to arch slowly, her breath coming rapidly through parted lips. She shivered in the breeze, and then his warm, moist mouth was covering her, his tongue moving softly over the hard nipple, making her body undulate while she moaned with helpless pleasure.

  “The poor fool,” he whispered hoarsely. His hands fought snaps and a zipper while his mouth made a banquet of her. “God, the poor…man!”

  He was touching her! She tried to resist, but his mouth on her breasts made her too weak with pleasure. Her legs parted for him and she sobbed as he worked witchcraft on her aching, helpless body. She clutched his mouth to her breast and shivered again and again as he brought jolts of white-hot pleasure that robbed her of breath and strength.

  She couldn’t bear it. The tension was making her frantic. She lifted to him, her hands clawing at his shoulders as she tried to make it happen, tried to make the tension snap…

  She cried out, stiffening. His mouth quickly covered hers to silence the sharp little cries. She shuddered again and again and he laughed against her lips with arrogant, wicked delight.

  When she softened in his arms, he kissed her hungrily and she heard the sound of another zipper moving. The pressure of his mouth grew suddenly insistent. She was his. There was no thought of resisting now, when she knew what he was going to give her.

  The hard thrust shocked her, but the pain was fleeting and as he lifted her, she felt him all the way inside her body.

  She made a sound, a gasp, and he felt her tighten.

  “Gently,” he whispered into her lips. His body was faintly tremulous, like his voice. He was stimulated beyond stopping, beyond reason. He wanted the mindless pleasure he’d given her. He wanted to feel it like silver knives through his powerful body.

  His hands cupped her bottom, protecting it from the tree bark. He kissed her and lifted, thrust, with smooth motions of his hips that very quickly made her his conspirator. She shivered with each slow movement, barely able to breathe, her lips touching his as he guided her body back to his again and again.

  “I’ve never done it like this,” he whispered huskily. “I’ve never felt it like this. I can’t be tender enough, I can’t touch you…inside…deeply enough,” he choked. His hands contracted and he groaned in hoarse anguish, his legs shivering as hers wrapped around his hips. “Nikki, make…it…happen…to…me!”

  His hands gripped her painfully and he began to shudder, to sob, as his mouth claimed hers. She felt the jolt of fulfillment all the way through her as he went over the edge. The sound he made into her mouth was shocking in its inhibition, and she wondered if she would be riveted to him forever. It felt like that. He was still moving, and what she’d felt at first began to build in her. But there wasn’t enough time. He’d let her back to her feet and he was leaning against the tree beside her, shuddering in the aftermath, gasping for breath.

  She wanted to cry. He hadn’t used any protection and she hadn’t tried to stop him. She’d promised herself that this would never happen to her, that she would never allow herself into a situation where she might lose her head and give in to a man’s ardor. Now she had. The first wave of terror hit her like acid.

  Her hands fumbled with fabric and fasteners. He was quicker than she was. Seconds later, dressed again, he helped right her clothing.

  “Don’t cry,” he whispered gently, brushing at her eyes. “It’s all right.”

  “No, it’s not! I let you…!”

  He picked her up in his arms and began to kiss her, with breathless tenderness. “I lost my little boy,” he said at her mouth, his voice unsteady. “Give me a baby, Nikki.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nikki couldn’t believe she’d heard him right. Her body felt stiff and sore and bruised. He wasn’t letting go, though. He moved to the other side of the tree, where its roots stretched toward the beach, and eased her down. Sitting down beside her, he pulled her across his lap and leaned his back on the tree trunk while he held her cradled against him.

  “You don’t believe in promiscuous sex,” he said. “Neither do I. You love the environment. You like politics. There are hundreds of other things we have in common. The baby will be the foremost thing.”

  “It’s happening too fast,” she began dizzily.

  “I know it is. I wanted you too much. Next time, I’ll give you what I had.” He looked down at her. “Did it hurt very much, Nikki?”

  She flushed. “I wasn’t talking about…that. I meant talking about marriage and babies…”

  His big hand pressed down on her belly. “It was your first time,” he murmured with unforgivable smugness. “I read somewhere that virgins always get pregnant the first time.”

  She hit his chest. “I am not going to have a child out of wedlock in Charleston!”

  “We’ll get married,” he said. “The sooner the better, in fact.”

  She gasped. “My brother would kill you before he’d let me marry you!”

  “Not when we tell him you’re pregnant,” he said smugly.

  “I am not!”

  His eyebrows lifted. “How do you know?”

  “Because I didn’t…I mean, there wasn’t…time,” she finished, drowning in confusion.

  “Because you didn’t climax when I took you?” he asked bluntly, chuckling at her expression. “You will next time. I’m sorry to tell you that pleasure isn’t a necessary requirement for conception.”

  “It was only one time,” she said stubbornly.

  He smiled slowly. He eased her down on the grass-covered soil under the tree. “So far,” he murmured.

  “You can’t!” she said frantically.

  He pulled her hand to him and grinned at her surprise. “Yes, I can.” His mouth covered hers and he eased between her legs, feeling her tremble. He whispered into her lips, “If it hurts, you’d better tell me now, while I can still stop.” He pushed down and she bit her lip.

  He sighed, a little sad. “I was afraid that might happen. I was overeager, wasn’t I?” He rolled over onto his back and tugged her so that she was resting on his chest. “All this raging masculinity, wasted,” he sighed, pressing her hips down to his. “Ah, well, there’s always our wedding night. I hope you like short engagements, because we can be married in three days. And we will be,” he added when she looked inclined to argue. “I don’t know what’s going on around here and I don’t give a damn, but you’re going to live with me until we’re finding out.”

  “I have to go home!”

  “Why?”

  The feel of his body under hers made her warm and cozy. She lay down and sighed as he absorbed her weight. “Because I can’t be underhanded. I’m not ashamed of the way I feel about you.”

  He was still. His hand smoothed at the nape of her neck. “And how is that?”

  “Deeply affectionate. Passionately desirous. I’d think up more adjectives, but I’m sleepy.”

  “Making love is tiring,” he whispered, and his voice smiled. “You won’t come home with me?”

  “I want to. Oh, I want to! But let’s do it properly,” she pleaded. “If you’re sure you want to marry me, that is.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m sure, all right,” he said solemnly. “The baby would be a nice consequence, but it’s my backbone I’m thinking of mostly.”

  “Your what?”

  “My backbone,” he murmured with deep satisfaction. “I like having it melt and blaze up like fireworks. Couldn’t you tell how much pleasure you gave me, or is rictus still too new to you?” She looked puzzled and he laughed, whispering in her ear.

  “Oh,” she gasped.

  “You won’t be so easily shocked a few weeks from now,” he whispered. “In fact, there’s every possibility that you’ll be sh
ocking me.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it.” Her fingers curled into his chest. She stared out at the movements of the ocean. It was all so sudden. She felt as if she had emotional whiplash.

  “Don’t brood,” he said lazily. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re still sleeping with your mistress.”

  “No, I’m not,” he said firmly. He rolled her over onto her back so that he could see her face. “I haven’t touched her since the day I washed up on your beach. Not even to kiss her, Nikki.”

  She frowned. “But…”

  “I took her around with me, yes,” he said. “I didn’t want it to get back to you that I was mourning because you left.”

  She smiled. “Oh.”

  His fingers traced over her face, down to her mouth. “And I was,” he added somberly. “Mourning, I mean. I’ve grieved for you, Nikki, night and day. It knocked me for a loop when I found out who you were, but that didn’t stop the longing. Seeing you at the Blair’s party was the most painful thing that’s happened to me in recent months.”

  “You didn’t call me,” she pointed out.

  “How could I? Your brother would like to see me in prison. I have no love for him, either. I didn’t want to put you in the middle, put you in the position of having to choose between us.”

  “I only wanted to warn you,” she said. “I really didn’t mean to, well, to let this happen.”

  “This’ was delicious,” he murmured deeply. “Have you any idea what it felt like to have you, to feel you having me, wanting me?”

  “A little,” she said, her eyes bright.

  “I cheated you of fulfillment,” he said, “but…”

  She put her fingers over his mouth and had them soundly kissed. “You didn’t,” she said. “Before you made love to me, you gave me that.”

  “It started out to be unselfish,” he said ruefully. “I was going to let you see what we could have. But when I watched you at the last, I couldn’t control myself. I had to have you.”

  “There’s no need to feel guilty,” she said. “I let you.”

  “Sweetheart, you couldn’t have stopped me,” he replied quietly. “I honestly didn’t mean to let it go that far. I meant for you to have a white wedding, and a proper wedding night.”

  “I’ll have both. Even the puritans allowed intimacy between engaged people,” she whispered. She lifted her mouth to his and kissed him softly. Her body sought the length of his and pressed there gently, feeling him wanting her. “You’re very big,” she whispered daringly, and heard him groan as he answered the kiss. It was a long time before he lifted his head.

  “You have to go home,” he said harshly.

  “You don’t want me to go home,” she said. She nuzzled close. “I don’t want to leave you. But I must.”

  His hands trembled as they held her head to his chest. He ached from head to toe. “I could have protected you if I hadn’t lost my head. I had something in my wallet.”

  She closed her eyes, thinking about a baby. Her fingers traced the collar button of his shirt and drifted down to tangle in the exciting thickness of hair that covered his chest. “You miss your family, don’t you, Kane?” she asked softly.

  “I miss my son,” he confessed. His hand tightened on her head. “I miss him like hell. God, Nikki, I want another child!”

  He rolled over and she opened her arms, cradling him against her. Perhaps grief was making him vulnerable, but she loved him. Given time, he might come to love her, particularly if there was a child.

  She reached up and kissed him with slow tenderness. “I’ll give you one,” she whispered.

  He searched her eyes. His hand pressed back the strands of dark hair that clung to her cheeks. She looked beautiful and untamed, and faintly pagan lying there on the grass. He could picture her, nude and wanton, her body undulating slowly.

  She heard him gasp. “What is it?” she asked.

  “I was thinking about how it would be, to have you here, naked on the grass.”

  “I don’t look as good without my clothes as you do without yours,” she said, smiling. “I love to look at you.”

  He made a rough sound in his throat, and for an instant the chemistry between them almost exploded.

  “We were lucky,” she whispered. “But someone might come down here looking for me.”

  He shivered. “And you’re not decent.”

  “And I’m not decent,” she agreed. She moved and winced a little, smiling sheepishly. “It felt good.”

  Color flared along his high cheekbones, but he laughed. “Yes. It felt good.”

  He got to his feet reluctantly and helped her up. As he held her in front of him, his eyes were watchful. “You look different. Radiant.”

  She searched his eyes. “You meant it? About wanting to get married, to have a baby with me?”

  “I meant every word,” he said softly. His expression was breathlessly tender, and he seemed suddenly shocked as he looked at her. “I adore you!” he whispered huskily.

  She smiled, her eyes misty with feeling, with delight. “Will you call me tomorrow?”

  He nodded. “Like a shot. Come home with me. I’ll strip you and myself and we’ll lie naked in each other’s arms until morning, even if that’s all we can do.”

  “I have to go home.” She nuzzled her face against his chest. She wanted to say the words, but he hadn’t. It was too soon. But she owned him now. He was hers. She looked up and possession was written on her face. “Leave that slinky brunette alone,” she said quietly. “You belong to me now.”

  “Honey, I couldn’t touch another woman now if my life depended on it,” he said evenly. “You can’t imagine what you did to me.”

  “I’ll get better with practice,” she said.

  He laughed delightedly. “Could I survive if it did?”

  She smiled back. “Good night.”

  He caught her hand and lifted it, palm up, to his lips. “Dream of what we did.”

  He walked back toward the beach, where he’d left the small motor launch that he’d piloted over to see Nikki. She watched him go, her body tingling, her heart full. Life was very good, she thought. She couldn’t regret what had happened. She was a woman now, and soon she’d be a wife. Kane Lombard’s wife. Her feet hardly touched the ground all the way back up to the beach house.

  Nobody noticed that she was back. Phoebe and her male companion were dancing to loud music and munching potato chips. Nikki curled up on the sofa and dreamed of the future until it was time to go back into Charleston.

  The telephone call early the next morning was so unexpected that at first she simply held on to the receiver and stared blindly at the wall.

  “What did you say?” she stammered.

  “I said, I got some very racy photos of you and Lombard last night. Hot stuff, lady. Suppose I turn them over to the tabloids?”

  “Kane Lombard’s father owns a tabloid,” she said quickly.

  “Not the only one. He doesn’t mind slandering other people. But how is he going to like having his own son on the front page of somebody else’s tabloid? Sister of congressional candidate makes out with her brother’s worst enemy on the beach,” he rattled off. “What headlines!”

  She slid down the wall to the floor. “What do you want?” she stammered. If the telephone was bugged, she was dead. Her whole life flashed before her eyes.

  “I want you to stay away from Lombard,” he said. “And I want you to keep your mouth shut about why.”

  “But…!”

  “You don’t really think he wants to marry you?” he chided. “I’ve got some juicy photos of him with his mistress, the one he hasn’t touched, remember? Taken two days ago. They were on the yacht, naked. Do you want me to send over some prints?”

  She felt sick. She wrapped her arms around her legs. “You’re perverted.”

  “Who isn’t?” came the mocking reply. “If you go near Lombard, those pix go straight to the papers, with four-column cutlines. And we’ll b
e watching. So be a good girl.”

  The line went dead. If only she’d had the presence of mind to tape it! She hadn’t been followed. She knew she hadn’t been followed. So how had they found her?

  She buried her face in her hands. This couldn’t be happening! Kane wanted to marry her. What would he think when she wouldn’t talk to him, or see him? What if he caused a scene and these people were hiding outside with cameras to capture it all on film? Her heart stopped. It would be on all the news shows. Irate lover attacks congressional candidate’s sister. Publicity. Bad publicity. Clayton would be knocked out at the polls with such sordid goings-on.

  But Kane’s character would be even more blackened, wouldn’t it? She didn’t know what to do now.

  Derrie answered the knock on her door wearing a beige and gold and white caftan with her hair trailing down her back. She was ready for an early night, and not expecting company. It did occur to her that it might be Cortez, and because she thought of him as a friend, she opened the door a little eagerly.

  When she found Clayton Seymour standing there, her heart skipped wildly. She’d actually thought it was over, that she felt nothing! How silly. Loving him was a bad habit, she thought miserably. If only she could break it!

  The sight of her made Clayton stop in his tracks and just stare. He’d rarely ever seen Derrie like this. For some reason, he found it much more affecting than he should have. He smiled lazily. “Well, hello. Have you missed me?”

  “Not particularly,” she said. Her legs were trembling, but she managed to keep him from seeing.

  He sighed. “Ah, well. I suppose Hewett’s given you the big head, appointing you executive advisor. Maybe I should have done that myself.”

  “But you didn’t think women were capable of handling that much responsibility.”

  “Bett is,” he said maddeningly. “I didn’t think you were. More fool, me.” He stopped just inside the door and frowned as he looked at her. “I only asked you to call the television stations. Someone else would have done it anyway, you know.”

  “I do know. But it wasn’t going to be me. What do you want, Clay?”