JAKrentz - Uneasy Alliance (10 page)

BOOK: JAKrentz - Uneasy Alliance
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Who had seen her with Ward that weekend at the coast? Why had she even stupidly gone in the first place? Who knew enough about her relationship to her cousin to sense that it could be played upon in a blackmail attempt?

Yes, she thought grimly as she knelt down and groped about in the cabinet for a small glass, that last question was a very interesting one. Who did know her well enough to realize she would do almost anything to protect her cousin Cynthia?

But the question brought no answers—merely more questions. Her fingers fumbled awkwardly and she realized just how nervous she really was. What shape was a brandy bottle? Which side of the cabinet would Torr most likely store it in? He was such a disciplined, methodical person. Surely the bottles would be in some sort of regimented order. Unfortunately she couldn't see well enough to read the labels in the dark cabinet.

"I think I have what you're looking for here."

Abby shot to her feet, whirling around as Torr's voice came from behind her in the darkness. "Oh, Torr!" As she stared, he stepped from the shadows near the window where he had been standing. Pale light from a weak moon gleamed briefly on his clothing. It was obvious he had not yet gone to bed. He still wore the conservative shirt and slacks he'd had on earlier. "I didn't see you," she whispered, feeling suddenly very shy and very tense.

"I know. But I saw you. I watched you glide down those stairs like a little ghost with your golden hair all nicely mussed. I wondered if you had come looking for me, but when you went to the liquor cabinet I decided I wasn't your goal." He held up the bottle in his hand. Abby could just barely make out the shape of it. "Come on over here and I'll give you what you want."

With sudden irritation, Abby knew the invitation wasn't just for a glass of brandy. It just wasn't going to be that simple. Nothing with Torr was that simple. Slowly she moved across the darkened room to stand in front of him, uncertain of herself and of the man in the shadows.

Without a word Torr took the little shot glass from her fingers and poured out a measure of brandy. Then he set down the bottle and picked up a small object that had been lying on the table nearby. He opened his hand and Abby saw one of the delicate little yellow roses lying on his palm.

"I was just sitting here thinking of you," Torr murmured. He held out the rose, waiting for her to take it.

Abby glanced down at the pale object cradled in his large hand and then she lifted her gaze, trying to read the expression in his amber eyes. She knew there was a gleaming hunger in those eyes; she could feel it reaching out to surround her.

"I never pounce, remember?" Torr waited with seemingly unlimited patience for her to accept the rose.

The hunger wasn't just in him, Abby realized. It was in her as well. Without a word she put out a hand and touched the rose on his palm.

With great strength and sureness, Torr's fingers closed around hers before she could remove the rose. And then slowly, inexorably, he drew her to him.

No, Torr Latimer didn't pounce, Abby thought fleetingly as she obeyed the masculine summons. He overwhelmed, cradled and engulfed. And tonight there seemed to be both passion and safety waiting for her in his crushing embrace.

FIVE

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S
he came into his arms without a whisper of protest. Torr felt his body tighten and harden at the promise of her. She was so very soft. Soft and warm and vibrantly alive beneath the prim little flower-spattered nightgown. For an hour he'd been sitting down here in the darkness, thinking of her, pondering the mystery of her and the depths of the desire in himself. He could not remember wanting a woman as badly as he'd been wanting Abby Lyndon.

She had been almost silent as she had padded down the hall, but his instincts had leapt into pulsing awareness when he'd sensed her pause outside his door. In that instant his blood had begun to run heavily in his veins. The possibility that she might have been heading for his room stilled his breath.

But she had continued on past his door after shutting it gently and Torr had forced himself to calm down. Now where would she go? The rose with which he had been toying seemed to be burning his fingers as he waited for the next soft sounds. When Abby had reached the bottom of the staircase and gone straight for the liquor cabinet, Torr had wanted to laugh. She was within a few feet of him and apparently after the same thing he'd been after an hour earlier. A little liquid sleep inducer.

The realization that she was almost within reach undid any of the sleep-promoting effects of the brandy he'd been drinking. And now she was in his arms. A heady sense of satisfaction and anticipation threatened to make him rush. It took all his willpower to slow himself down. This had to be done right. More importantly, it had to be done thoroughly, completely.

When it was over she would know that she belonged to him.

"Torr?" Her voice was a bare thread of sound. He could feel her tremble against him and the knowledge that she wanted him acted like the most incredible aphrodisiac. "Torr, I didn't come downstairs for this. I only wanted a little brandy. Something to help me sleep."

He smiled down at her, his hands seeking the contour of the small of her back. "You have a beautiful back, did you know that? Sleek and supple and very graceful. Like the stalk of a flower."

"Torr, I don't think this is a good idea. Things could get very complicated if we…if we do this." Her face was buried in his shoulder and Torr heard the uncertainty in her voice. She was as wary and nervous of him as ever, but at least she was no longer fighting it as she had in the beginning. Tonight she needed him, wanted him—perhaps even desired the protection he could offer.

"Things will only get simpler when we become lovers, Abby. They won't get more complicated. Trust me, honey. Let me give you what you need tonight. I'll take care of you, protect you. Just give yourself to me and forget about everything else."

Abby shuddered beneath the soothing, enticing onslaught of Torr's gentle words. They seemed to surround her, offering comfort and pleasure and security. His arms did the same in a far more tangible way. She could feel the strength in him, but it didn't frighten her. Instead she sensed the promise of safety within his embrace and she found herself nestling closer to the hard, lean planes of his body.

"Put your arms around me, Abby. Let me feel you holding me."

Instinctively she did as he commanded, unable to resist the soft order or her own wish to comply. She wanted him, Abby thought in wondering amazement. She really wanted him. The desire in her was unfamiliar and unsettling. Was it a function of her own fears and her need for reassurance? If so, it was startlingly vivid and strong. She'd never experienced such a rush of feminine hunger. The force of her own rising passion confused her.

"Torr, I can't seem to think straight. I need a little time," she mumbled into the fabric of his shirt. "Please let me have a little time."

"Time won't make any difference in the way either of us feels. You know that. Tonight, tomorrow night or next week—it will be the same between us. It would have been like this the first night I'd met you if we'd allowed ourselves to step over all the barriers."

She sighed, an awareness as old as time telling her he was right. There was no point in even trying to resist this man. He offered everything she needed tonight. What was so wrong or dangerous about accepting what he had to give?

"Torr, in the morning…"

"In the morning we can talk," he assured her as his fingers sank heavily into the curve of her thigh.

"Yes."

"Right now I can only think about the way you feel under my hands. I want you, sweetheart. Can't you feel what you're doing to me?" He caught one of her hands and trapped it against his chest. When she raised her head to look up at him with wide, questing eyes, Torr covered her mouth with his own.

As always, his kiss overwhelmed and claimed. Abby felt his tongue thrusting between her lips before she'd even had a chance to adjust to the pressure of his mouth on hers. There was a soft sound, tiny and primitive. The cry of a female animal accepting the advances of her mate.

Torr reacted to it with a heavy answering groan of desire and he pushed her hand down his chest, over the flat plane of his stomach to the aggressive shape of his manhood. Abby caught her breath at the unmistakable readiness of him. Her senses swam as she tried to assimilate the potential ramifications of what was happening, but all she could think about was the compulsion she felt to surrender.

Beneath the fabric of his clothing Torr was aroused and ready. Abby wanted to satisfy that arousal. More than that, she wanted to be the only woman who could satisfy him.

"Abby, honey, I need you tonight." Torr pulled his mouth from hers long enough to explore the line of her throat. His fingers moved up her spine to the back of her head and then burrowed beneath the tangle of honeyed hair to find the sensitive nape of her neck.

"Oh, Torr,
please
!" Eyes closed against the exquisite pleasure of his touch, Abby leaned more heavily into Torr's waiting body.

"Just let go, honey. Let go and I'll take care of everything."

Torr feathered her lashes with his warm breath as he let his fingers trail lightly around her throat. His searching touch found the buttons on the front of the flannel nightgown and he undid the first with great sureness.

Abby gasped at the knowledge that matters were now drifting well beyond her control. In a small gesture of belated denial she covered his hands with hers and in the process dropped the yellow rose, which she had been clutching in the fingers of her right hand. It fell unheeded to the floor.

"Sweetheart, I'm going to make love to you tonight. Don't try to stop me. We both know now that stopping wouldn't be what either of us wants." As if her hands were gossamer, Torr slipped his fingers down to the next button of the gown, unfastening it easily.

She was acting crazily, she knew, and suddenly ceased her small efforts at restraint. She wanted him. There was no need to fight any longer. She felt him find the last button and then he was pushing the flannel gown off her shoulders, letting it drop slowly to her waist.

Any uncertainty she felt about how he would react to the sight of her body vanished beneath the heat of Torr's molten eyes. For a long moment he gazed down at her as she stood half-naked in the shadows, and then his fingers went to the tip-tilted crests of her breasts.

"Abby, you make my head spin. I feel as if I'm on fire," Torr breathed huskily. "On fire." His head lowered, his lips fastening on hers with such restrained ferocity that Abby shivered in response.

Excitement flared higher in her, making her senses shimmer. Her head followed the direction of his silent command, drifting back into the cradle of his shoulder as Torr caressed the gentle fullness of her breasts.

She could feel the ripening thrust of her nipples as surely as he must be able to feel it. Torr's soft growl of satisfaction told her that he was well aware of her body's response. Abby let her fingers trail along the column of his throat, slipping inside his shirt collar to find the first curling hairs on his chest.

For a moment longer Torr's palm grazed the hardening outline of her nipples and then with a sudden, unexpected movement his hand went down her stomach, catching the nightgown and pulling it off completely.

"Abby, Abby, honey, you're beautiful."

Torr let his hand hover for a moment just above the triangle of hair which defined the area of her womanhood and then he boldly pressed his fingers against her.

Abby cried out softly against his mouth, her body tensing with expectation and feminine uncertainty.

"Oh, sweetheart. Let me feel your warmth. I want you so, darling Abby. I need to know you want me."

The words poured over her skin and into her mouth as Torr's tongue tangled once again with her own. She could feel the probing roughness of his hand and the sensation sent ripples of shocked excitement through her. Her legs felt suddenly weak, unable to support her weight. When his foot thrust gently between her bare feet she gave way to his touch completely.

Instantly Torr explored her with incredibly enthralling intimacy. The feel of her seemed to release whatever bonds had been holding him until then.

"Ah, sweet Abby. So warm and welcoming. I'm going to lose myself in you tonight, sweetheart."

A moment later Abby felt the dark world revolve dizzyingly around her as Torr swept her up into his arms and started for the staircase.

"Look at you, woman," he teased huskily, "lying naked in my arms, your hair flowing down. You make me feel like some sort of conquering barbarian."

"Perhaps you are," she whispered, her eyes smoky now with the depths of her own desire and excitement. She felt him take the stairs with strong easy strides, her weight obviously not slowing him down. He carried her to the top and then turned unhesitatingly down the hall to the door of his own room. In another moment Abby was being settled in the middle of the wide, turned-back bed.

She lay watching him from beneath her lashes as he undressed in the darkness. Torr removed his clothes with an uncaring impatience, stripping them off and leaving them on the floor. When he turned to her, she found herself drinking in the sight of his magnificently aroused body, his obvious strength not at all intimidating here in the shadows. She should be wary of it, Abby thought distantly. She ought to be nervous now at the sight of him. But her arms reached up for him as he came down beside her and all fears were forgotten. "Torr, I've never felt like this before," she confessed as he wrapped her close and snarled her legs with his own heavy ones.

"Neither have I," he admitted simply, and then he was sealing her mouth, crushing her back into the bedding.

He made love to her with a fiercely checked desire, as if he had to fight not to take her with sudden, ungovernable excitement. Abby flowered beneath his touch, turning to him as a daffodil turns toward the sun. The heat in him warmed her deliciously, making her feel marvelously alive. His response to her own initially tentative and then eager exploration thrilled her. She felt recklessly powerful, as only a woman can feel when a man she wants responds unhesitatingly.

Her fingers drifted tantalizingly over the contours of his strong back and Torr groaned aloud as she found his solid, muscled thigh.

"You make it so hard for me to do this right," he rasped, trembling violently as she stroked the inner side of his leg. His own fingers were even more mercilessly arousing, however, and Abby thought briefly that if anyone had a right to complain about not being able to slow down, it was she. "Oh, Torr, touch me, yes, oh yes."

"Here?" he taunted gently. "Or here?"

"You seem to know exactly where. Oh, darling,
yes
!" The pulsating excitement threatened now to take her by storm. She had to know the fullness of him inside her. The soft, feminine sounds in the back of her throat came more quickly and Torr drank them eagerly.

"Please, Torr." Her body lifted pleadingly against his hand.

"I want it to be perfect," he protested softly, teasing her with his touch until she was reaching out to urge him closer.

"It couldn't be more perfect. Torr, please take me. Take me now. I'm going out of my mind."

"I think that's how I want you this first time," he growled. "Out of your mind with needing me. Because you sure as hell have me out of mine!"

As if he'd reached the end of his self-control, Torr moved abruptly, crowding Abby back into the pillows with the weight of his body. She knew a sudden unexpected flash of tension, a primitive resistance that was almost as strong as the desire she felt. This was not merely a night of passion that could be somehow ignored in the morning. She was giving herself to this man.

Torr was aware of the brief panic in her almost before she identified it in herself and he moved to swamp it. "It's too late, Abby. There's no going back. I'm going to make you mine now."

The words were like sandpaper against the skin of her shoulder and then Abby couldn't think at all. Torr was lodging himself between her thighs, forcing her to accept his strong muscled body against her softness. Abby cried out in an agony of need, her arms wrapping him close as she obeyed his urgent summons. He was probing her, testing his strength against her, and then with a harsh thick groan Torr was inside her.

The stunning power of his possession took Abby by surprise, even though all her senses had been pleading for it. She felt as if she had been engulfed by a wave, half-drowned in the raging force of their combined passion. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced and she gave herself up to it because there was no alternative. In that moment, Abby knew she would have done anything to satisfy this man. Giving herself to him seemed right and perfect. In turn, she found herself taking. Her legs closed tightly around his waist and her nails left small half-moons in the flesh of his back.

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