Promises in the Night: A Classic Romance - Book 2 (7 page)

He could feel her touch. The glitter of gold around her throat mesmerized him. The remembered scent of her perfume was more real than the smell of the sea a hundred yards away. The look in her eyes as she spoke to the dark-haired man was the look he’d been dreaming about.

Soon it would be for him.

L
arkin was curled
in the big overstuffed couch in the den, and her whole body seemed to be alive with pleasurable sensations.

He’d helped her clear the table after their meal, loading the dishwasher as naturally as if he’d been helping her for years. Other men, both family and friends, had helped her before, but they had all exhibited just enough kitchen awkwardness to remind her that this was strictly a favor.

Alex, however, worked quickly and easily, and in record time they were seated together in the den. The bittersweet sounds of Smokey Robinson floated from her stereo, and the hot coffee—rich with sugar and cream—soothed her soul.

She sipped her coffee and sighed. “Do you know what’s missing from this scene?”

Alex thought for a second, then motioned toward the hearth. Larkin kept it filled with plants in the summer; even though it was mid-October, she hadn’t yet readied it for its real use. “A fire?”

“Besides a fire.”

“A raging snowstorm outside?”

She chuckled. “That would be nice, but what I’m really thinking about are chocolate chip cookies.”

“You’re joking.”

“Afraid not I think I’d almost sell Amanda for a bagful.”

“Sounds serious.”

“It is. I’m addicted.”

He angled himself on the sofa so that he was facing her. She moved a shade closer.

“Tell me about it,” he said in his best professional manner. “I’m a psychologist; maybe I can help you kick the habit.”

She laughed. “That’s the problem, Doctor. I don’t want to kick the habit.”

His beautiful grey eyes traveled the length of her body, warming every spot they touched.

“I can manage it most of the time, but once a month I find myself lurking around the candy counter, staring at chocolate almond bars.”

He stroked his beard. She could almost feel it tickling her fingers. “Classic symptoms,” he said.

“With all the advances made by medical science, why can’t they manage to come up with an almond bar that doesn’t go immediately to your hips and thighs?”

“If I had the answer to that, I’d win the Nobel Prize.” He reached over and gently touched her long hair. “I saw a 7-Eleven on Main Street. Would you like me to get you a bag of chocolate chip cookies?”

A particularly nasty gust of wind rocked the small house, rattling the windows. “It’s too wicked out there tonight. Besides, I think I have brownies tucked in the back of the fridge.” She stood up, smoothing the silky green dress over her hips and thighs. “I hate to indulge alone.”

She started for the kitchen. Alex caught her by the right hand as she walked past him.

“Alex?”

He showed no sign of releasing her from his hold. “Don’t go.”

She laughed. “I’m only going into the kitchen for brownies. You can come with me.”

“I have a better idea.”

Before she realized what was happening, she was on Alex’s lap, her long hair flowing across his chest and arms. He smelled of coffee and spice and masculine strength, and the touch of his hands on her back and hip was making her disoriented.

“You can get up if you want to, Larkin.” His breath fluttered against her cheek.

She turned slightly so that she could see his face. “I don’t want to.”

“That’s what I was hoping.”

His face was so close to her, his mouth so sexy and appealing that she did the first thing that came into her mind: she leaned forward the few inches that separated them and put her lips against his.

The second her mouth met his, her whole body seemed to turn to flame. She saw the surprise on his face turn to desire—a desire so intense that she finally had to close her eyes in an attempt to keep at least a part of her heart intact.

It was Larkin’s last rational decision.

A
lex wasn’t an impulsive man
. His actions were usually the end result of an orderly and logical pattern of thought; that had been true since his childhood. And although he had wanted to pull Larkin Walker into his arms from the first moment she walked onto the stage at the Sheraton, he had intended to wait for the right moment, a moment as perfect as she was.

However, when she stood up to go into the kitchen for those damned brownies and let that silky, sexy green dress slither back into place, he knew the right moment had finally arrived. For once he didn’t worry about motivation or reaction. He needed to have her in his arms.

Alex would have been able to content himself with simply holding her—at least, that’s what he had been trying to convince himself when she suddenly leaned forward to kiss him. At the touch of her mouth on his, his entire body came alive with desire both hot and urgent.

He had forgotten that anything as simple, and as simply given, as a kiss could be so damned erotic.

He slid his tongue along her lips and they opened to allow him entry to her mouth. She was sweeter and more yielding than he had ever imagined, yet the fierceness with which she met and matched his passion set him on fire. Her hands were playing along the muscles of his arms and chest, and he wanted to rip off his civilized suit and have her feel the heat she was generating inside him.

M
adness
.

It had to be sheer, unadulterated madness. There could be no other explanation for the way she was acting.

Never before, not even during those turbulent and exhilarating days with Vladimir, when she was still naive enough to believe things would work out between them, had Larkin experienced such a wild surge of desire.

The moment Alex pulled her down onto his lap and wrapped his strong arms around her, she knew that she wanted nothing more than to feel his mouth on hers.

And now that she had, now that his warm, sweet lips sent fire glazing down her throat, she wondered how on earth she would retain her sanity.

“It’s a lost art,” she murmured as she unbuttoned the top two buttons of his white oxford shirt.

He murmured, “What is?” against her heated flesh.

“Kissing. A beautiful, lost art form.”

“Do you think we can save it for humankind?”

She pressed her mouth against the pulse at the base of his throat and savored the pounding beneath her lips. “We can try.” She ran her tongue lightly across the pulse and he shuddered. “It might be a difficult job.”

“We owe it to civilization,” he said as his hands slid up her rib cage, his fingers lightly touching the sides of her breasts. “Centuries from now, people will wonder how man and woman expressed affection,”

She could barely think as he slowly, deliberately, cupped her breasts in his large hands. She was pure sensation—she could think of nothing beyond the way her breasts seemed to swell at his touch, the way her entire body yearned for him. “We should practice,” she said with difficulty.

“Yeah,” he said. “We need a lot of practice.”

Her dress was soft and light, her bra filmy, and he rubbed his hands over her nipples. The pleasure she felt bordered on pain. She was curled on his lap, her legs stretched out along the couch. He was hard and she could feel him against her hip. Her imagination leaped light years beyond reality and she had to rein it in. It was too soon.

Much too soon.

He cradled her face in his hands and moved closer. His eyelashes were thick and dark, throwing shadows on his cheekbones. The pressure of his lips against hers was barely perceptible, yet the flames inside her grew higher.

With her mouth she tried to kindle in him the fires he’d kindled inside her. He groaned, and her tongue then plunged into the darkness of his mouth. Her hands quickly undid the remaining buttons on his shirt, and the sensation of his warm skin beneath her palms threatened to bring her to the edge of madness.

He reached behind her and she heard the soft hiss as the zipper on her dress was lowered. The room was chilly, and the cool air against her back made her shiver. Then his hands slid inside the open dress and unhooked her lacy bra, and she was on fire once more.

Alex broke the kiss—he seemed to be as breathless and awestruck as she was.

“This is a vastly underrated pastime,” she said, cuddling closer. “It deserves further consideration.”

“You talk too much,” Alex said.

If possible, this kiss was more shattering, more powerful than the ones before. Each time his fingers teased her nipples, her entire lower body exploded into spasms of pleasure/pain that drove her wild. Once the feeling was so intense, so all-encompassing that she nipped at his lower lip in response.

His hand slid down her bare midriff and began to ease its way past the narrow elastic of her lace bikini panties. Reality was upon her in an instant.

“Alex, no!” She tried to squirm out of his reach.

“Relax,” he murmured.

She shook her head. “You don’t understand.”

He cradled her against his chest, his left arm holding her close while his right hand splayed out over the bare flesh of her stomach that the scanty undergarment left exposed.

She didn’t know what on earth to expect.

He didn’t kiss her, didn’t move to touch her in any way more intimate than the simple pressure of his hand, warm and strong against her belly. The wildness of her passion of a few moments ago changed. His touch still burned, but now it was a quiet fire, a subtle, all-encompassing warmth that spread from her head to her feet and left her weak with desire.

“Amazing.” She leaned her head against his shoulder and gave herself up totally to the pure sensual pleasure of his embrace. “Absolutely amazing.”

“Feeling better?” His manner was matter of fact, yet his voice was tender and it eased her embarrassment.

She looked up at him. “Do you have mystical powers, Dr. Jakobs?”

“No mystical powers.” He kissed the side of her throat and she felt a tugging deep within her. “There are times when something as simple as human contact can do wonders.”

While Larkin had almost been out of control with desire for him, Alex managed to keep his passion on a short leash, reining it in when it threatened to run wild. She was aware that they had moved from pure lust to something much more difficult to define. There was about him a feeling of barely contained power, of simmering sexuality that she found highly erotic.

The feelings his touch stirred within her body and heart were as dangerous as they were exciting. Simple desire would have been easy to understand; this strange blend of tenderness and passion was not.

She knew she should move out of his embrace, put an end to this before it went any further, but she could not. His touch was too hypnotizing, too comforting, too exciting, and she was powerless to break away.

She chuckled softly at her thoughts. All she had to do was sit up and move out of Alex’s embrace to break the spell she was under. She was no more powerless than he in the situation.

She was exactly where she wanted to be.

H
is body was
fire and steel.

Everything about her—from the silky hair that flowed free over his bare chest, to the surprising fullness of her breasts, to the intoxicating scent of her perfume—seemed calculated to drive him crazy. In his mind he had stretched her long, lithe body out on the couch and plunged himself deep within her until she cried out his name. There was no part of her that he didn’t explore—no part of him that he didn’t offer to her.

He knew how she would melt against his hand, all honeyed sweetness and fire, knew how her legs would feel wrapped around his hips, locking him in the ultimate lover’s embrace.

He couldn’t begin to calculate the amount of self-control required for him to sit on the couch with her in his arms, half naked and flushed with desire, and allow himself only the touch of her skin against his hand. But he understood boundaries, and he understood the extraordinary eroticism that went hand in hand with anticipation, and he was willing to wait.

When they heard a knock at the kitchen door, he was almost relieved. He wasn’t at all sure how much more anticipation he could handle.

“Oh, God.” Larkin sat up and tugged at the hem of her dress. “I forgot about Roger!”

Alex zipped her up, then glanced at his watch. “It’s after midnight. Does he usually—”

She laughed and stood up, running her slender fingers through her hair. “Roger runs on his own clock,” she said. “This is actually early for him.”

“Doesn’t he call first?”
None of your business, Jakobs. This is her life, her friend.

The look she gave him was amused. “He did call, Alex.”

“Maybe I should be leaving.”

“Please don’t. I’d like you to meet him.”

There didn’t seem to be any way to avoid it.

She glided out of the den, leaving the scent of perfume in her wake. Alex stood up and buttoned his shirt, tucking the tails into his pants. He heard Larkin’s voice in the kitchen and a deep chuckle that must belong to Roger.

If Roger were half as sharp as Alex suspected he was, he would know immediately what he’d interrupted. He might even decide to turn around and go home and let Larkin return to his arms.

A
lex had greatly underestimated
Roger’s curiosity.

“Whose grey sedan is that in the driveway?” he asked the second he stepped inside the foyer. “Did Patti get a new car? I always thought our Miss Franklin was a Corvette type myself.”

Larkin motioned for him to lower his voice. “Patti’s on a business trip.”

Roger’s dark brown eyes danced with mischief. “Has the Sioux Falls Casanova made a return engagement?” He surveyed Larkin’s somewhat disheveled appearance. “There must be some reason for your dishabille, darling.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re too damn nosy, Roger?”

“All the time. It’s one of my many sterling qualities.” He took off his rain-soaked jacket and draped it over a kitchen chair. “Now, are you going to tell me whom you’re entertaining in your boudoir or do I have to wander in and see for myself?”

“There’s no one in my boudoir.”

“More’s the pity.” He brushed rain from his close-cropped blond hair with the back of his left hand. “I didn’t know plumbers worked this late.”

Larkin linked her arm through Roger’s and headed toward the den. “Alex Jakobs is here, Roger, and he’s not a plumber. If you’d just waited two seconds, I was about to invite you in to meet him.”

“Is this Jakobs responsible for the roses in your cheeks, darling?”

Damn Roger Lacey and his keen eye. “I had a few glasses of wine,” she lied.

“I don’t believe you.”

She pinched his arm lightly. “I don’t care if you believe me or not. Now, behave yourself and don’t embarrass me.”

They stopped a few feet before the door to the den. Roger looked down at her.

“You sound serious.”

“I am.”

“Is he that important to you?”

“Maybe.”

“You don’t sound certain.”

But I am,
she thought
, and it terrifies me.

She led Roger into the den, despite the fact he knew her house as well as he knew his own. Alex stood near the far window, smoking a cigarette and looking out over her rain-swept backyard. Just the sight of his long, lean body was enough to send a shiver of delight through her. Amanda was shamelessly sprawled on the window seat, staring up at Alex with open adoration. Larkin suppressed a laugh. It was probably the same way she was looking at him.

“Alex?”

He turned. Roger stood up a little straighter and she pinched him again—harder this time.

“Alex, this is my friend and neighbor, Roger Lacey.” She turned to Roger. “This is Dr. Alex Jakobs.”

Alex quickly ground out his cigarette in an ashtray and extended his hand to Roger. “Glad to meet you, Roger.”

Roger turned on his five hundred megawatt special smile. “Same here, Doctor. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

Alex looked at Larkin with a funny half smile, and she wanted to cram Roger into her food processor and set it on puree. If she hadn’t been in stocking feet, she would have kicked him.

Instead, she covered her mouth and yawned theatrically. “It’s getting awfully late, Roger. Don’t you have a few things to do at home?”

He gave her an affronted look. “You wound me, Larkin. And here I was about to compliment the good doctor on his cable TV show.”

The relief she felt was probably written on her face in bold black letters.

Roger turned to Alex.
“Helpline
is damned good show, Dr. Jakobs. You should be proud.”

Alex seemed genuinely pleased. “The name is Alex,” he said, “and I appreciate your compliment. TV is a tough medium for a psychologist—we usually have no idea if our words reach anyone at all.”

Larkin thought of Karen O’Rourke and all that had happened just a few hours earlier. “You reach people, Alex. Never doubt that.”

The look he gave her was filled with such raw emotion that she feared she would cry.

Roger glanced from Alex to Larkin, and she could see the dawning of comprehension on his face.
Say one word, Roger Lacey, and I’ll string you up by your own gold chains.

“Believe it or not, darling,” Roger said, “I did have a reason for coming over this late.”

“You don’t need a reason, Roger,” she said, relaxing. “You’re welcome any time.”

Roger arched one brow. “Well, apparently some times are better than others,” he drawled, eliciting a chuckle from Alex. “I wanted to remind you about the Halloween party. It’s two weeks from tomorrow and I expect you to be there.”

“Have I ever missed one of your bacchanals?” Roger’s parties were usually high-spirited mixtures of good music, good food and the wildest blend of personalities this side of the UN.

Roger turned to Alex. She held her breath. She knew Roger was about to extend an invitation, but if he asked Alex to come as a Chippendale’s dancer, she would personally oversee his funeral.

“If you’re free, you’re welcome to come to my annual All Hallows’ Eve pagan festival, Alex.”

Alex looked at Larkin as if he sensed that she was being put on a spot same as he.

“It’s a costume party, Alex,” she said. “I’ve already been told I am not allowed to come in one of my ballerina outfits.”

“She’s worn tutus three years in a row,” Roger said, rolling his eyes. “Whatever happened to creative imagination?”

“Do you think we can come up with something exciting between the two of us?” she asked Alex.

His grin was wonderfully wicked. “We can try.”

“I have a few suggestions,” Roger said. His brown eyes twinkled, and it was obvious to Larkin that he was enjoying the chemistry between Alex and her. “All you need are three yards of Saran Wrap, four red bows and—”

Larkin clamped her hand over his mouth. “Say goodnight, Roger.”

Roger moved out of her reach. “Not very subtle, are you, Ms. Walker?”

“I’ve found subtlety to be highly overrated.”

He looked at Alex. “I think she wants me to leave.”

Alex was laughing. “It seems that way.”

“I was just going to suggest that Alex wear a—”

“Roger!” Larkin put her hand at his back and began pushing him toward the door. “I don’t think Alex needs any help with his costume. We’ll work something out.”

Roger sighed in mock exasperation. “Just don’t come to my party dressed like
Swan Lake
and Sigmund Freud. I have my reputation to consider.”

“I promise we won’t disappoint you,” Alex said, with a wink for Larkin.

Larkin began to push Roger toward the door in earnest this time. “I know you hate to rush off like this, Roger, but it’s perfectly all right. We understand.”

“I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee, darling. I can smell fresh coffee a mile away.”

“Sorry. We drank the last cup.”

They were in the hall and heading toward the kitchen. Alex remained in the den.

“I’ll settle for tea.” Roger was laughing as he was given a firm shove into the kitchen.

“No tea. No coffee. No more stalling.” She handed him his jacket. “Go home, Roger.”

He slipped into the soft leather bomber jacket and made a show of looking deep into Larkin’s eyes.

“Do my eyes deceive me or do I detect the look of love?”

She opened the kitchen door. “Go home, Roger Lacey. I’m not kidding.”

He smiled at her. “Neither am I, darling.”

She hesitated. His words took her by surprise.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Not everyone is as perceptive as I am. Besides, the good doctor is too smitten himself to see it just yet.”

He gave her a quick hug, and for the hundredth time that evening she found her eyes getting misty.

“You know I’m here if you want a shoulder to lean on,” Roger said.

“I know,” she said, her voice soft. “You’re a good friend, Roger. I appreciate it.”

Once again he was his old self. “And well you should, darling,” he said, pulling his collar up around his face. “I’m one in a million.”

She grinned. “I’ll remember that.”

He turned and disappeared down the back steps.

When she returned to the living room, Alex had draped his tie around his neck and was slipping into his suit jacket.

“You’re not going already, are you?” She couldn’t hide her disappointment. “I was about to offer you some more coffee and those brownies we never got around to.”

“I thought you were out of coffee.”

She walked up to where he stood near the fireplace and leveled the ends of his sober striped tie. “I lied.”

“Why would you do something like that?” His beautiful deep grey eyes sparkled with amusement.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his mouth. “Isn’t it obvious, Dr. Jakobs?” She let her fingers play with his thick chestnut hair. “I would think that with your background the psychological implications would be very apparent.”

“If there’s one thing my training has taught me, it’s never to put much stock in the obvious.”

He pulled her close to him in an embrace that threatened to leave her breathless. She could feel his heart pounding beneath the civilized layers of suit and shirt.

“Can’t I convince you to stay a little longer, Alex?”

He shook his head. “I’m flying out tomorrow morning at five,” he said, “and I still have a lot of paperwork to do.”

Larkin felt an unexpected twinge of jealousy. “Are you going back down to Virginia again this weekend?” It was possible that the appeal of Virginia was due to more than just old friends.

“I’m speaking before a group of therapists at a conference in Detroit.”

They started walking toward the front door.

“Are you the guest speaker?”

“One of them.”

“I’m impressed.”

“You haven’t heard me speak.”

“I watched you work tonight, Alex. What you did was incredible.”

“It’s only incredible when it works,” he said as she ducked into the bathroom to retrieve his raincoat. “The rest of the time it can be pretty discouraging.”

He put his coat on and she handed him his car keys from the hall table.

“Dinner on Monday?”

“I have a class.”

“How about a long lunch, then? I don’t think I can wait until Halloween to see you again.”

They arranged a time and place, and she felt happy in a way that was unfamiliar to her. In the past, happiness with a man was built upon a foundation of insecurity that threatened to topple at the slightest change of wind.

Alex wasn’t playing games. It was a type of honesty that she had no experience with; it was more the way she herself had approached relationships in the past.

A violent gust of wind shook the house. They heard the sharp crack of a splitting branch in the yard, followed by a thud as it hit the ground.

“Drive carefully,” she said as he drew her into his arms for one more kiss. “It’s hellish out there.”

His lips found hers and the kiss they shared was sweeter than any before it.

“I’ll call you tomorrow from Detroit,” he said. “I want to prove flying is safe. Maybe then I can convince you to come up with me.”

You could convince me to fly through a meteor shower,
she thought. But no man needed to know he held so much power over a woman, so she said a simple “Maybe,” instead.

He kissed her again, then started to say something but caught himself before the words had quite formed themselves on his lips.

“Sleep well,” he said, then hurried down the front steps and was gone.

Larkin locked the door after him, then slowly walked back into the den, trying to keep the magic with her just a little longer. What she had felt in Alex’s arms was different from anything she’d ever experienced. With Vladimir she had been grateful and eager to please, willing to do almost anything to keep him happy.

With Alex she had the strong sense that anything she gave to him would be returned to her tenfold. It still wasn’t enough, however, to make her believe in happy endings.

T
he damage wouldn’t be noticed
for a while.

Darkness and the storm had both made it easy for him to do what was necessary, and now a gash, deep and ugly, marred the sleek beauty of the car. He crouched behind two fat evergreen bushes near the side of the house and watched as the dark bearded man raced across the driveway and got into the car.