Heat LIghtning (8 page)

She pushed him away and rolled to her feet. And if she staggered a bit, neither mentioned the fact.

“There won’t be a next time,” she said as trembling hands finally managed to adjust her clothes and shove her drawers into her pocket.

“There will. I want you to come to my room. Tonight, I want you to come to me.”

“I won’t.”

“You will. It’s your turn.”

“What? My turn? What is this? A game?”

“Most everything is a game. Especially this.”

“I won’t come to you.”

“You will.”

“I’m going home in a few days. After my mother marries, I’m leaving.”

He frowned. Obviously, this was something that took him by surprise. “Where the hell is home?” He stood near her adjusting his own clothes.

“New York.”

“God damn it, but you are a stubborn woman. Abby, listen to me. Stay.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? Your mother is here. Why would you want to leave?”

Abby looked at him for a long moment before she shook her head. For a second, she’d thought maybe, just maybe he was going to say something, something that might convince her. God, but she was a fool to allow this man to come anywhere near her. And now, all her plans lay in ruin. Now that she’d lain with him, she couldn’t ever marry Bradley. Lord, but she was the world’s worse fool. “I’m going in.”

“Wait, I’m coming with you.”

“No. My mother will see us.”

“And what? That would be bad?”

“You know it would.”

“Why?”

“Because a woman like me doesn’t go to bed with a man like you.”

Linc’s laugh was as devoid of humor as any she’d ever heard. “What’s the matter with a man like me?”

“Everything. Do you think I don’t know your type? You go from job to job and woman to woman, offering nothing but a few moments of pleasure. Well, it’s not enough.”

“What the hell do you want?”

“I want the same thing every woman wants. I want a man who’ll always be there for me. I want a family, a home and maybe a bit of security.”

“And I don’t want the same?”

“You, Mr. Knight, only want to use a woman.”

“Seems to me you did your share of using. At least, I’m honest enough to admit it.”

“Meaning I’m not, I suppose,” she sneered. “Listen to what I’m saying. I don’t need you, Mr. Knight, and I don’t want you.”

“Right. After the last hour we spent with my cock buried inside you, I can understand why, but what about tomorrow?”

“You depraved monster,” she whispered, her lips growing thin as she trembled with anger. “I won’t want you then either.”

“Bullshit. You’ll want me all right. Now, that you know what it’s about, you’ll be tossing and turning every damn night aching for my touch. I’d be surprised if you can wait until tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow will tell the truth of it, won’t it?”

Linc breathed a sigh, his tone clearly conveyed his annoyance that she should deny her needs. “You can deny it all you want, but I’ll see it every time I look at you. You won’t be able to hide the longing. You’ll want it all right. At night you’ll lay in bed imagining my cock inside you. It’s only a matter of time before you come knocking at my door.”

Chapter Five

Linc might have felt sorry for her if this wasn’t the most important thing in his life. He was determined that this woman belonged to him. She had to come to know it—know it and admit to it. He set out a purposeful and deliberate seduction.

If he were anywhere near her, he made sure to touch her, to watch her, at times to stare at her no matter who was present. It had only been a few days, and he was getting to her. There could be no doubt, for she frequently lost her train of thought while speaking or flushed for no apparent reason or simply trembled if he stood too close to her. He was definitely making an impression.

Should they come into contact, even if in passing, she always stiffened for he never failed to run his hand down her back and to linger at her waist as she moved quickly from his side, her gaze narrowing, obviously infuriated. He thought her acquiescence wouldn’t be long in coming.

Three days of this torment went by before Abby confronted him. They were alone for a moment on the front porch. “I want you to stop touching me.”

“Do you? Why?”

“Because I don’t like it. Why else?”

“That’s a lie. You like it all right. Maybe you like it a bit too much.”

Abby took a deep breath, her gaze narrowed with annoyance as she slowly shook her head. “Mr. Knight, does your mind always fail you so miserably? If I liked it, I’d say I liked it.”

“You mean, if you were honest, you’d say you like it?”

Abby heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I understand you’re hoping for a relationship of some sort between us, no matter how temporary that affiliation might be, but I’m afraid you’re doomed to disappointment.”

Linc grinned. “I love it when you sound all uppity like a schoolmarm. Did I ever tell you the first time I saw you I thought you were a loose woman?”

Abby gasped, her cheeks coloring at his daring.

“I did, although I thought you were far too pretty.” He nodded then shrugged as if he were unable to help his thoughts. “I did, until I heard you speak and then I said to myself, ‘This little, sweet piece sounds just like a schoolmarm’. And I knew you couldn’t be anything else.”

“Sweet piece? How lovely,” she repeated in some despair. “It boggles the mind, does it not, to imagine you’d refer to a woman as a sweet piece?”

Linc grinned.

“Now, would you mind if we got back to the subject at hand?”

“I have to tell you when you act like this, it makes it hard for a man to resist you.”

She shot him a look that promised dire consequences should he dare to continue on in this vein. “I suggest you do your best.”

He laughed at her supposed cool control. “I’ve been doing my best, I promise you.”

“So you take me for a fool, is that it? One would have to be a fool to believe that.”

“You’re right. That was stupid of me. Of course, I haven’t tried not to touch you. The truth is that’s almost all I ever think about. You should know I’m conducting a campaign to break down your resistance. To cause you to want me. To have you come to my room.”

“My God,” she managed, her words slightly strangled.

“Is your heart pounding?” He reach under her breast, his hand flat against her midriff, feeling for the throbbing he insisted she knew. “Is it working? Do you lie in bed and think of me? Do you dream about the things we’ve done? Do you remember what it was like? Do you twist and turn at night longing for it to happen again?

Linc watched her closely in the moonlight and wondered if she realized just how easily her feelings could be read. There was no way he was going to believe any denials on her part. She wanted him all right. At least deep down, she did. Linc could only hope he had the patience to wait for her to acknowledge that need. “You might think it a terrible thing, but the truth is, I want you and I believe you feel the same. If you allow it to happen, something deep and strong might grow here.”

“And might not,” she countered.

He shrugged. “That’s true. But we’ll never know unless you give us a try.”

“It’s too late. Bradley will be here tomorrow.”

Linc grinned and gave a gentle shake of his head. “It’s never too late.”

* * * *

It was late. Most in the house slept—most but Abby, who again suffered through hours of extraordinary longing. Still another night saw her awake as dawn inched its way over the horizon, while yet again true rest evaded her.

This couldn’t go on, of course. No one could live with little more than the barest glimpse of sleep each night. She heaved a huge sigh. Despite her resolve to never give in, to never allow the monster this win, she would. There was a need building deep inside. A need that brought on a trembling, beginning at her core to spread out in waves of tremendous almost painful longing that consumed her body, her mind and, perhaps, her soul. A need only he could satisfy. There was no other way.

Abby silently opened the door and stepped into his room. She’d awoken from yet another fitful dream. The last few nights when she’d slept at all, she’d dreamt of him, of his hands, his mouth, the feel of his body against her, the scent of his skin. She couldn’t stand anymore. Her heart pounded; her breath came in soft trembling gasps. She knew she looked a sight, with her hair curling to her waist, tangled into damp knots from hours of restless tossing. She didn’t care.

A quick glance took in the room. It was much the same as hers. Small, it held one narrow bed, a dresser, a table with a pitcher of water and bowl, plus a smaller table with a kerosene lamp set upon it. From across the room, their gazes met and held. Not a word was spoken. A pulse beat in her throat at her daring. She leaned against the door and waited. She’d come this far. She couldn’t take another step without a word from him.

He’d purposely set out to torment her, to force her to put aside her morals, to overcome any barrier and come to him. He’d said as much. Even though she’d insisted she would not, here she stood. She’d suffered in her denial as long as she was able. She couldn’t live through another night of longing, another sleepless wretched night of torture.

He watched her for a long, heart-pounding moment before he rose to a sitting position. As if fearful of frightening her off, he moved slowly, carefully.

She shivered as she took in the sight of him. Long and lean, his chest and arms were slightly tanned. She hadn’t a doubt he was naked beneath the thin blanket that had drifted to lay across his hips. And she could hardly breathe with the need to see more.

Her voice trembled as she broke the thick silence. “I have to tell you that I hate you for doing this to me. You need to know I don’t want this, I’ve never wanted this and yet I do. I want it more than I want my next breath.”

“You needn’t tell me how you feel,” he returned. “I know the pain of yearning, the impossibility of sleeping every night.”

She allowed a soft moan and gave the slightest shake of her head. “Oh God.”

“Do you think you suffer alone? Do you imagine I get more than an hour of sleep at night, knowing that your room is next to mine? Knowing there’s no way that you don’t feel the same pain? Knowing only a few feet and the thinnest wall keeps us apart? Every night, I lay here, imagining you beside me, your body warm, your skin silky soft, your breath sweet, your kisses wet, hot, inviting, needy, demanding that I answer your every desire. It’s driving me out of my mind.”

“I know how you feel,” she moaned, her head falling back again as she leaned weakly against his door. “This is insane.”

“It’s not,” he said, coming naked from the bed. “It’s desire. It’s the wanting of a man for his woman, the desperate need to know the pleasure of touching you again.”

“But I’m not yours.”