Amanda Ashley (19 page)

Kara nodded, mesmerized by the sight of him. The water caressed his broad shoulders. The moonlight shimmered in his hair. She could feel the heat of his gaze as he waited for her to join him.

She took a deep breath. “Don't watch me.”

With a nod, Alex turned his back, but he didn't have to see her to know how she looked, what she was doing. He could hear the muted brush of cloth over her skin as she removed her sweater, her shoes and socks, her jeans. There was a faint whisper of nylon and lace as she slipped off her panties and bra, followed by a faint splash as she stepped into the water. A change in the wind carried her scent
to his nostrils and he took a deep breath, inhaling her fragrance.

He moved to deeper water, then turned to face her, his breath catching in his throat as he saw her standing before him, clad in water and moonlight.

“You are so beautiful,
natayah,
” he murmured.

“Am I?”

Alex nodded. She looked like the ErAdonian goddess of fertility. He watched the color rise in her cheeks, felt his blood thicken as his body grew heavy with desire.

“Kara . . .”

She couldn't speak, could hardly breathe, as he moved toward her. Unable to draw her gaze from his, she waited, her heart pounding wildly in her breast. Tall and broad-shouldered, roguishly handsome, he cut smoothly through the water, the heat glowing in the depths of his eyes hotter than the bubbling spring.

And then his hands were on her shoulders, and he was bending toward her, until she saw nothing but his face, felt nothing but his hands sliding slowly, sensuously, down her back, locking around her waist, drawing her body against his.

With a low groan, he slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue skimming across her lower lip like a silken flame.

Her skin was on fire and her bones were melting, she thought, dazed. Her legs felt like straw; every nerve ending tingled with awareness. Her head fell back, giving him access to the hollow of her throat.

His lips trailed down the exposed curve of her neck as his hands slid sensuously upward until they cupped her breasts.

“Alex,” she moaned softly. “Alex, please . . .”

“What, Kara?” He drew back, his gaze burning into hers. “Tell me what you want.”

She couldn't put it into words; instead, she pressed brazenly against him. “Alex . . .”

With a muffled cry, he swung her into his arms and carried her to the edge of the spring, and there, partially submerged in the warm swirling water, he joined his flesh and his spirit to hers.

She writhed beneath him, her nails clawing at the ridged flesh of his back, exciting him still further. Her legs locked around his waist to hold him close as she whispered his name over and over again, begging him to end the sweet torment. And then she was soaring, flying, reaching for that one moment of fulfillment and perfection.

His own release followed immediately. She felt the warmth and heat of him as his life poured into her, filling her, making her complete.

For endless moments, there was only the muted sound of the water lapping against their bodies and the harsh rasp of his breath in her ear. Never, she thought, never had she dreamed such ecstacy, such unity, existed.

She hugged him closer, wishing they could stay entwined in each other's arms forever.

She frowned as he began to draw away. “What is it?” she asked, her gaze searching his. “Alex?” A cold, nameless fear ensnared her heart when she saw his face. “Alex, what's wrong? You're scaring me.”

He shook his head. “Kara, I'm sorry.”

“Sorry?” Feeling suddenly vulnerable, she sat up and crossed her arms over her breasts. “Why?”

“We never should have made love.”

“Oh?” Her voice sounded small and incredibly
young. “I'm sorry you feel that way.”

“Kara.” He drew her into his arms, holding her in his lap as if she were a child. “I didn't mean it like that. It's just that we didn't use any protection.”

“Oh,” she murmured, relieved. “Is that all?” In spite of the fact that she had agreed with him that now was not the time to think about having a baby, she couldn't help but think how wonderful it would be to have Alex's baby. A boy, with his father's black hair and dark eyes.

“Kara.”

“What?”

“I told you before that I didn't know if I could father a child with an earth woman.”

Kara nodded. “I remember.”

He took a deep breath. “I don't know what would happen to you if you did get pregnant.”

“What do you mean?”

“That should be obvious. We're from different planets. My blood is different from yours, different than it was when I first came here. I don't know what effect these changes might have on a child, or . . . or on you. A pregnancy might be dangerous, even fatal, to you both.”

Kara shivered. The water lapping at her feet felt suddenly cold.
Dangerous. Fatal.
His words echoed in her mind.

“Kara, I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault. I wanted it as badly as you did. Maybe more.”

“But I knew better.”

“Alex, it's done. There's no sense tearing yourself up inside. Anyway, there are always risks when a woman gets pregnant,” she added, hoping to allay not only his fears, but her own. “It's part of life.”
But she couldn't help wondering what would happen if she did get pregnant. What had she done? What kind of child would result from their union?

Alex stood up, carrying her with him. “You're cold,” he said.

She nodded, though it wasn't the cool air that was making her shiver.
Dangerous. Fatal.
The words repeated themselves in her mind, frightening her in spite of her bold words.

As if she were a helpless child, she let him dry her off and dress her. She watched while he pulled on his pants, her gaze drawn to the dark stripe down his back. He slipped his shirt over his head, and then he lifted her into his arms and carried her up the mountain, into the cavern.

Inside, Alex removed her clothing and tucked her into bed. Undressing, he slid in beside her and gathered her into his arms.

Please, please, please . . .
Just the single word, playing over and over in his mind.

Please let her be all right.

Please don't let my seed take root within her womb.

I've been alone so long. Please don't take her from me. . . .

He held her all through the night, praying to the gods of his home world, to the Great Spirit of the Lakota, begging for mercy.

Forgive me,
he pleaded.
Punish me, but please don't let anything happen to the woman asleep in my arms. . . .

When Kara woke the next morning, it was late and she was alone. She felt a rush of panic, and then, hearing the sound of hammering, she relaxed. He was here.

She stared up at the smooth stone ceiling, remembering the night past, the self-recrimination in Alexander's eyes, the fear. It had been for her, that fear.

She placed a hand over her stomach. What if she was pregnant? Would that really be so terrible? Except for that peculiar strip of ridged flesh on his spine, Alex looked exactly like any other man. She grinned wryly. It wasn't as if he was Jabba from
Star Wars
, or the gill-man from the Black Lagoon.

She grunted softly as a new thought occurred to her. Alex had mentioned the fact that his blood was different from hers and might cause her harm, but
he had already given her some of his blood, and nothing had happened. Had he forgotten that?

Throwing off the covers, she scrambled out of bed, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, and went into the main room.

She paused in the doorway, her gaze moving over Alex. He was building a table from the tree he had felled the night before. For a moment, she admired the play of muscles in his broad back and shoulders. He glanced over his shoulder to smile at her, and happiness bubbled up within her, as effervescent as sparkling champagne.

“Good morning,” she said, stepping into the room.

“Good morning.” He finished hammering one of the table's legs in place, then brushed a lock of hair from his face. “Did you sleep well?”

Kara nodded. “Did you?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“You were worrying about me, weren't you?”

He nodded, his gaze moving over her face.

“I'm fine, honest.” She sat down on the floor, legs bent, her arms resting on her knees. “Don't you think maybe you're worrying for nothing? I mean, you gave me your blood and nothing bad happened.”

He frowned, and Kara knew she'd been right. He had forgotten.

“So,” she said brightly. “Maybe there's nothing to worry about. Anyway, I'm probably not pregnant. I am hungry, though. Are you? Oh, sorry.” She grinned self-consciously. She'd forgotten he didn't need to eat every day.

“Go make yourself some breakfast,” Alex said. “The table should be done when you're ready.”

Rising to her feet, Kara crossed the floor toward the kitchen, thinking she would rather eat sitting on the floor than standing at the table, and then she saw the chairs, two of them. Stout, serviceable, the backs intricately carved, one slightly larger than the other. An image of the three bears rose in her mind and made her smile. One for papa bear, and one for mama bear . . .

“You do nice work, Alex,” she called over her shoulder.

“Thanks.”

He watched her move around the kitchen, thinking how different the cavern felt with Kara to share it. Thinking how different he felt. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was worrying for nothing. He had given her his blood, and she hadn't suffered any ill effects. He stared at the hammer in his hand, trying to stifle the rush of hope that flooded through him as he imagined what it would be like to share his life with Kara. And then, unable to help himself, he pictured Kara holding his child. Ah, to give her a son, he thought, to hold a child of his own in his arms again . . .

AnTares . . . His grip tightened on the hammer until his knuckles went white. After his arrest, the council had refused to let him spend any time with his daughter. He had begged them to reconsider, to let him tell her good-bye, but to no avail. The counsel's only concession had been to allow his parents to bring AnTares to the docking bay the morning his ship was to depart.

He closed his eyes, remembering the day he had seen his daughter last, her clear gray eyes awash with tears. She had reached out to him, begging him not to leave her. The sound of her cries had
followed him as he was led to the ship. He had yearned to go to her, to try to explain why he was being sent away, why he would never see her again. In desperation, he had turned to the head of the counsel, pleading for DaTra's understanding, begging to be allowed to hold his daughter one last time, to tell her he loved her, but DaTra had adamantly refused. On board the spacecraft, Alex had stared out the ship's view port, his gaze fixed on his daughter's face, until all ports had been sealed and she had been lost to his sight forever.

Alex hammered the last nail in place and righted the table. After all these years, the thought of her still had the power to cause him pain.
AnTares, forgive me . . .

“Alex?”

He looked up to find Kara watching him. “I'm sorry, did you say something?”

“I asked if you wanted a cup of coffee, or maybe a glass of water.”

“No, thank you.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Fine.”

She tilted her head to one side, her expression doubtful. “You don't have to tell me if you don't want to,” she said quietly. “But you don't have to lie, either.”

“I'm sorry, Kara. I was thinking about my daughter.”

She nodded, not knowing what to say.

He carried the table into the kitchen and put the chairs in place, one on each side.

“Will you sit with me while I eat?” Kara asked. She placed her plate and a cup of coffee on the table and sat down.

With a nod, Alex sat across from her.

“What shall we do today?” she asked.

“I don't know. I'm afraid there isn't much to do up here.” He glanced at the empty bookcase. Even reading was no longer an option.

Kara regarded him over the edge of her coffee cup. “I have an idea.”

He looked at her expectantly, and then, watching her cheeks bloom with color, he knew what she had in mind.

“Kara . . .”

She looked at him through wide, innocent eyes. “We can't go out while the sun's up,” she said, smiling seductively. “So we can't go for a swim, or a walk.” She shrugged. “We can't sit and read because you burned up all the books. So, can you think of a better way to pass the day?”

“No.”

“Good.” Pushing away from the table, Kara stood up and took his hand.

Heart pounding, his body humming with awareness and desire, Alex let her lead him into the bedroom. He stood passively, the blood rushing through his veins, thrumming in his ears, as she began to undress him.

When he reached for her, she swatted his hands away. “Not yet,” she murmured, and so he stood there, his body trembling with longing, while she ran her hands over his flesh, pressed her lips to his chest, bent to explore his navel with her tongue.

He groaned as the ache to hold her grew painful. “My turn,” he said with a growl, and with slow deliberation, he began to undress her, his hands sliding seductively over her flesh until she, too, was quivering with need.

Swinging her into his arms, he carried her to bed. He felt her gaze on his back as he took the necessary precautions, and then she was in his arms, whispering his name, urging him to hold her, to love her, and never let her go.

And he was more than willing to oblige.

They spent the afternoon in bed, making love, sleeping, making love again, until darkness settled over the mountain.

Later, after a leisurely bath at the hot spring, they went for a long walk through the woods.