A Summer Smile (19 page)

She did as he asked. She could feel his eyes on her as she crossed the room. It was almost as if he were touching her. She could hear the sound of his breathing in the quiet room. It had roughened in the last few minutes, and she knew it was because she was arousing him. It sent a thrill of pleasure through her that dissipated the awkwardness she had been experiencing. She stopped by the bed and tossed back her hair so that it fell in a shimmering stream down her back. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. "Like that?"

"Like that," he said thickly. "Now sit down on the bed." His eyes were still fixed on her as he took off his sandals. "Damn, you're beautiful." He was moving toward her across the room, his bare feet making no sound on the carpet. "Sleek and soft and womanly." He stopped before the spot where she was sitting on the side of the bed. "Now part your thighs." He knelt before her on the floor between her thighs. His eyes were watching her expression searchingly. "Your turn." His voice was deep and quiet in the stillness. "Here I am. What do you want from me?"

Everything. He was so close yet not brushing her with so much as a fingertip. Every nerve in her body transmitted a need that was almost painful. "I want ... to touch you." Her tongue moistened her lips. "I want to see you. It was so dark in the cave."

"Then touch me." His smile was utterly sensual. "Look at me. I'm not as pretty as you, but what there is belongs to you." He picked up her hands and brought them to his chest. "You'll have to get rid of this shirt."

Her fingers were trembling as she unbuttoned the dark blue cotton shirt. They trembled more when he became impatient with her fumblings and decided to amuse himself by cupping and fondling her breasts in his palms. "You're so ripe and lovely." His eyes were hot and intent as he watched the pink crests spring into prominence. "Such sweet, firm cushions. Remind me to tell you about another fantasy that just came to mind."

"I can't keep up with them," she said shakily. She pushed the shirt down over his shoulders. "And I can't think when you do that."

"Good. If you can't think, then you certainly can't feel shy." He looked up, his eyes glowing softly. "Touch me, Zilah."

Her hands were trembling as she placed them flat on his chest. Hardness, heat, vitality. The cloud of red hair tickled her palms. She found his nipples in that nest and heard him gasp, and then he stiffened against her. She felt a little thrill of triumph as she slowly bent her head and licked with catlike delicacy and felt the nipple firm to hardness. His breathing was uneven but he made no other sound as she licked and even nibbled playfully for the next few minutes. It was only when she glanced up at his face that she noticed his jaw was clenched and his nostrils flared with strain. "Don't you like it?" she whispered.

His laugh held a touch of desperation. "Oh, I like it. It's just driving me crazy." He took her hand and

placed it on the knotted hardness of his stomach. "See?" His arms went around her waist and he laid his cheek on her breast. "Give me a minute. I'm wanting you so much. So much." In spite of his words he was rubbing his cheek wildly against her softness as if he couldn't resist the temptation of her naked breasts. His beard was erotically abrasive against her. His lips were warm, his breath hot.

She arched, offering herself blindly. His lips captured one burgeoning nipple with desperate hunger. He was murmuring something broken and incoherent as he nibbled, sucked, ran his tongue over her in a delirium of passion. She moaned, the sound barely audible.

Then his lips were gone from her breast. They were burning the valley between her breasts, the smooth skin of her abdomen, the fleecy nest that surrounded her womanhood. He lifted his head. His eyes were blazing in his pale face. "Zilah? Say yes. I can't take much more."

She nodded. She couldn't speak. At the moment she felt utterly mindless.

He took a deep breath and tried to still the trembling that was shaking him. "You're sure? It's got to be right for you this time."

She almost laughed aloud. "I'm sure," she said shakily.

He waited no longer. He was on his feet, stripping off his clothes with an impatience that was almost savage.
He
was almost savage, she thought dazedly as her eyes ran over the tight powerful buttocks and the iron-hard sinews of his calves and thighs. He looked wild and barbaric, a naked, virile giant with flaming hair and beard.

But there was nothing savage about the dark blue eyes that were looking at her with such glowing tenderness. "Lie back," he said gently. "I won't hurt

you. I'll never hurt you. We'll go slow and easy this time." He noticed her eyes on him and he smiled. "I want you. Would you like to see how much I want you? Do you want to touch me?"

She shook her head. "Not now." She smiled back at him. "Later, perhaps."

"I'll look forward to it." He pushed her down on the pillows. "Do you like my body?" He was over her, looking down at her. "Does it please you?"

"It. . . pleases me," she said haltingly. It was difficult putting words together when she was conscious only of his big hands parting her thighs and his narrowed eyes intent on her face. "You're beautiful, Daniel."

"I wasn't fishing for compliments." He smiled. "I know I'm no movie idol. I just wanted to make sure I didn't scare you. I'm such a big bastard."

He was doing it again. Why did he persist in thinking she would be frightened of him? "There's nothing frighten—"

He had entered her with one smooth plunge, taking her breath and mind and setting her body on fire. "Daniel!"

"I can't stand it," he grated. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes so beautifully sensual that she wanted to keep looking at him forever. "It's so damn
good.''
He was moving slowly, carefully, filling her with himself, filling her with beauty. "We fit so well. We were meant to be together like this. Can't you feel that, love?"

She could feel
him.
She could feel the closeness and the fire and the wonder. Her hands ran over his chest, fluttering, searching mindlessly. Full, empty. Full again. Her breasts were full, too, and achingly taut with the need for more of him.

She suddenly surged upward, taking more of him. He froze. His eyes closed. His chest was shuddering with the harshness of his breathing. "I wish you hadn't done that. I was doing so well. I was almost civilized." His lids flicked open. "I'm sorry. I tried."

He went wild. Stroking, plunging, moving her. His words were fevered and sweet. His hands rough, yet loving on her body. It was all bold and hot and caring. It was blinding rapture. It was Daniel. Beauty, heat, and then a flame of glory.

He collapsed in her arms, his chest moving as if he were starved for oxygen. His big fist clenched and then hit the bed with a force that shocked her. "Dammit! I blew it!"

She was so dazed that at first she was totally bewildered. "Daniel?" Her hand tangled in the soft richness of his hair, caressing, soothing.

His face was buried in her throat and she could feel him shaking against her. "I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry," he whispered. "I tried so hard. Don't hate me,

Zilah."

"Hate you!" She shook her head as if to clear it. "Why should I hate you?"

"I wanted it to be beautiful for you, dammit. I wanted to be gentle and kind." He laughed. "I wanted to be a damn white knight."

"You think it wasn't beautiful for me?" She couldn't believe it. "Daniel, you're a complete idiot."

He lifted his head. "Don't try to make me feel better," he growled. "I was there, remember. I was rough as hell."

Her lips were twitching. "You're still there," she said demurely. "And you notice I'm not objecting."

"It's not funny. I don't see how you can laugh about it. I practically violated you." His lips were tight with pain. "No generosity can excuse that."

"Dammit," she said clearly. "Shut up." She framed his face with her hands and looked into his

eyes. "It was beautiful. It
was
a little rough, because that's a part of you. I wouldn't have done without that part of it any more than
I
would the gentleness and beauty that are a part of you too." She pulled his head down and kissed him hard. "I don't know where you got the idea I was so breakable, but it's not true. Understood?"

His eyes were oddly bright. "Understood," he said gruffly. His lips covered her own with a sweetness that made her a little dizzy. He lifted his head. "All the same, I'll do better next time."

She shook her head in exasperation. Heavens, he was stubborn. Then she felt him stir within her and she smiled delightedly. "It looks like you're going to get the opportunity very soon."

"You're damn right." The rhythm began again, deep and lazy but just as thrilling. "That was one of my very favorite daydreams. Loving you." His words were punctuated with a thrusting movement that took her breath away. "And loving you. Over and over. Deeper and deeper. Sweeter and sweeter. Hotter and ..."

She didn't know how much later it was when she felt his kiss on her temple. She was lying in perfect contentment, her head on his shoulder, watching moonlight filter through the fretted window across the room. The lamp was out now and there was only the darkness, the moonlight, and Daniel.

"Well, have you decided, old friend?" he asked softly.

"Decided?"

"Whether it's the end of the world or the beginning?"

She
 
cuddled
 
closer.
  
"Oh,
  
the
 
beginning." Rebirth, sunrise, the world remade in his arms. Definitely the beginning, Daniel."

Nine

Those blissful feelings of renaissance and warm contentment were still with her when she opened her eyes a few hours later. It was the gray hour before dawn and she was tempted to close her eyes and go back to sleep. It was so lovely to be held like this in Daniel's arms. She snuggled closer and felt those arms tighten around her in unconscious possession.

Last night had been wonderful and Daniel so loving. Even though no words of commitment had been spoken, surely their loving meant something. His words, when he had made love to her, had been of passion and possession. Still, later, when passion was spent, he had been so marvelously gentle and caring that hope had sprung into full bloom. But she mustn't ask for too much. She had been given the lovely seeds of friendship and desire. She would nourish them well and pray that they would grow into love.

The room was cool. Zilah pulled the sheet higher to cover Daniel's shoulders, careful not to wake him. She closed her eyes. Then they flicked open as a sudden memory pierced the mists of contentment. Pandora. She felt like groaning aloud. Oh, damn, it was almost dawn, and Pandora would be at the stables waiting for her.

And if she didn't go, there was every chance that Pandora would take Oedipus out again. Not that she could prevent it anyway, she thought crossly. However, there was no question that she had to try. Not only was there the possibility of Pandora being physically hurt riding the big stallion, but even, if that didn't occur, Philip was sure to be angry enough to completely devastate the girl verbally.

Although he had been surprisingly indulgent with Pandora the night before, she remembered with a touch of speculation. In fact, Zilah had been astounded at the sheikh's gentleness with Pandora. There had been a rapport between them that would have been noticeable to even the most casual onlooker.

She didn't want to think about Philip or Pandora or anything but Daniel right now. dammit. If she had any sense, she would leave Pandora to her own willful pursuits and their consequences. She sighed in discouragement because even as she gave herself this very sensible advice she was cautiously removing Daniel's arm from around her and slipping out of the bed. She knew she couldn't do that. She cared about Pandora. The girl might be wild and willful, but there was an eagerness and generosity about her that were completely endearing. Zilah couldn't just ignore the fact that there was every chance Pandora would get into trouble if she wasn't there to prevent it.

Perhaps she would be back before Daniel awoke, she thought wistfully. She quickly grabbed under-things, jeans, a longsleeved white sweatshirt, and her boots from the closet and then disappeared into the bathroom. However, with Pandora there was no telling. She'd better leave Daniel a note.

A short time later she was crossing the stable-yard. The sun still hadn't risen, though there were faint lavender streaks piercing the blue-gray clouds. She loved this time of the morning when the world was so silent that she could hear her footsteps on the soft turf. It reminded her of the many times she and Jess Bradford had risen at this hour and ridden out in the predawn mornings at the ranch. There was something about the quiet and serenity of this time of day that bred a comfortable companionship, a silent joining of the spirit.

She knew at once, when she caught sight of Pandora leaning against the fence, staring blindly out into the pasture, that there would be no serene, companionable ride this morning.

Pandora was dressed in her customary riding garb of jeans and dark ribbed sweater but that was all that was usual about her. Pandora's back was to her and Zilah couldn't read the expression on her face, but it was scarcely necessary. That back was braced with a tense rigidity as if to bear some torturous strain. She could almost see the effort the girl was making to retain control.