I am, she admitted. Tired to bits of people tiptoeing around me, treating me like fluff.
Well, you can take it to the bank, Cam. I wont be one of those treating you like fluff. I think you can take anything I can dish out.
Youre damn right I can, she assured him.
Good, he murmured, and reached for her.
She never saw the kiss coming. Never had a clue that was where he was leading. She felt a long, slow woooosh inside her when his mouth came down on hers, in a kiss that started hard and deep and just kept coming.
His tongue was inside her mouth before shed scrabbled a spare ounce of oxygen. The screen door clapped behind them; his palm slapped down the porch light switch-and that was the last instant his hands were anywhere but on her.
The cottage was devil-black for an instantbut not really. Moonlight silvered through the naked windows. The light was perfect for kisses so naked they cut right past courtesies and politeness and pretenses.
Camille scrambled to make sense of a world that had become a storm of sensation, electric thunder, instant lightning. His tongue was making love with her tongue. His mouth, wet and hot, was molding hers. His hands, palms splayed, slid down her sides, inch by inch in a claim of ownership. She heard what his hands were saying as if they could talk: I own you. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next year, but right now, babe, that body of yours is all mine.
Her first sip of champagne had never made her this high, this dizzy. She simply didnt do this.
She did nice sex.
She and Robert had always had nice sex. Theyd shared cute little private jokes. Theyd been comfortable, careful with each other. Theyd learned all the things new lovers learn.
This wasnt comfortable. This was scary and wild. This was turning on a faucet full force. Pete-
Ive got protection.
Thats not what I was going to say.
If you want to say no, then say it. Anything else, we can talk about later.
She opened her mouth, planning to say no. Planning to insist he slow down until she found her mind again-the one he was turning into shambles from the inside out. But instead of saying no, for a completely unknown reason, she lifted up on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around his neck.
If shed been looking for trouble, she found it-faster than a sting, hotter than a fire. In flashes she saw the moonlight on his harsh face, his soft eyes. He peeled her shirt over her head. She peeled his shirt over his. Maybe for a tornado they could have stopped. Maybe.
He swore, twice, just trying to get her into the bedroom. Packing boxes still hadnt been put away. Some obstacle connected with his shin, another with his foot. Moonlight didnt extend to the shadows and door-waysbut his kisses did. His touch did.
Pete seemed to know all the private places shed been hiding in the dark.
Somewhere near the foot of the bed, he peeled the bra straps down her arms, then trailed the straps with his mouth, laving, biting, then baring her breasts for his view. He looked and kept looking, even as he was slowly zipping down her jeans and pushing them off her. There was naked and then there was naked. Shed been naked with Robert, but somehow shed never felt this completelyexposed.
She kept telling herself that she was afraid, not ready, that she wanted to stop. But his hands were in her hair, and those kisses kept coming. She wasnt protesting. She was claiming all the kisses he offered, taking everything he gave, demanding more, inviting more. When he lowered her to the bed, the old mattress springs creaked and groaned, not used to the weight of two wildly impatient lovers. The sheets felt moon-chilled, where her skin was unbearably hot. Fevered.
She hadnt felt anything but anger in so long. She couldnt explain what was happening. Morality didnt seem to matter. This couldnt be lovebut it did seem to be about trusting Pete. Or his forcing her to trust him, because he gave and gave and gave. Liquid kisses. Golden kisses. Intimate kisses that tracked from her ankle to the inside of her thigh to the heart of her.
Need spiraled through her body, exploded through her senses, a fierce, urgent hunger that had nothing to do with lust-and yet everything to do with it. Desire coiled in her tighter than a spring, ready to let loose when he suddenly laughed, a low sound of masculine delightand then he blew a raspberry in her navel to make her laugh, too. Laughter and sex, whod have thought they went together? But when he nuzzled her breasts, her breath started coming in short, harsh gasps. As sweet as the laughter had been, suddenly she was in a desperate hurry for him, inside her, now.
Shed been torn apart for so many months. Alone for so many months. She didnt know how to put her life back together. Wasnt sure if she had a life that could be mended anymore.
Shed been torn apart for so many months. Alone for so many months. She didnt know how to put her life back together. Wasnt sure if she had a life that could be mended anymore.
But right then, it was as if Pete were taking her to some other placea place where nothing existed but this urgent excitement. This rush of sensation. His wild mouth, his wicked eyes. His misbehaving hands, coaxing her to do things she didnt do, to think things she didnt think, to behave like a woman different than Camille. She was his lover. His abandoned, earthy lover at that moment, no one else, nothing else.
He pulled her beneath him, rising up, giving her a breaths space-but she saw the glaze of desire in his eyes, saw the sheen of control in his face. She met his first thrust with her legs tight around him, then raised them higher and tighter yet, as if she could take him in as deep as her soul. He whispered something about how sweet she was, how wet, how tight, just for him, but he was already building a rhythm, pumping a beat, taking her on a long, fast ride.
She felt her spine arching, felt her pulse rushing and gathering speed, heard the call from her throat with his name on it. What shed been so sure was lust wasnt lust at all, but somehow magic. She felt protected in the circle of his arms, in his heat, in his warmth. He was stronger than she was and until those moments, that instant, she hadnt known how strong shed been. Or how badly shed needed to let go, for a few minutes, to just beweak. To be herself. To not hold up those steel emotional walls for just a little while.
And then release came to her like a sweet rush of rain, cleansing, healing, freeing. One burst of pleasure followed another, until she lay in his arms, breathless, whipped. He scooped her up and just held her. She heard his thundering heartbeat under her ear, felt his hand stroking down her shoulder and spine.
Gradually she became aware that clouds had chased across the moon. The room was darker, a night chill sneaking in. Shed felt the helpless smile on her lips, yet now felt that smile dying as her eyes opened.
There was no sudden sting of reality. The feeling of being cradled against his brawny chest was wonderful, the sensation of being sexually and emotionally sated was a call of life and hope that she hadnt felt in monthsif ever in her life. Yet when she suddenly lifted her head, she saw Petes eyes in the darkness, watching, waiting, as if hed been half-tense in anticipation of her coming awake again.
Thank you, she whispered.
Dont steal my lines. And I cant talk quite yet. I dont know what just happened, but it feels like something on a par with hang gliding off Mt. Everest.
A small smile. Did we wear you out?
We? You did it all. And damn, youre so small. Where youve been hiding all that power and passion, stranger? Still his hand stroked, stroked, as if he were gentling a kitten who was braced to flee. I knew wed be good. It had to be good, Cam. But I never thought itd be like this.
Neither did I. But his warmth, his words of praise and tenderness, aroused an uneasy thread in her pulse. I havent felt alive in months. I didnt know I could feelanything. Much less anything like this.
Theres no way you could have healed fast. You had a terrible hurt.
Another uneasy thread bucked in her pulse. She touched his jaw, pushed back an unruly shock of hair from his brow. Whatever this had been about, she didnt regret it. Couldnt. Hed made her feel alive the way she never had, never thought she could.
But everything wasnt about her. Pete had two sons-two vulnerable boys whose mom had left them, who didnt trust women. He couldnt just take any woman in his life. And Camille couldnt imagine a woman less suited to be a healthy, trustworthy role model for his kids-or even be good for him. She barely knew what she was doing one day to the next.
What are we going to call this, MacDougal? she asked softly.
How about if we dont call it anything? I dont need labels.
She swallowed. I dont like labels either. But I dont want to hurt you.
Im a big boy.
I noticed that.
He tapped the tip of her nose. That wasnt what I meant.
Oh. Well. What I meant wasI dont know where we go from here.
We go wherever you want. Whatever feels natural.
A pile of horse hockey if ever shed heard one. Camille knew about vulnerability. Sometimes she felt so fragile she knew she could shatter if the wind blew from the wrong direction. And Pete looked tough and strong and mighty, because he was. But he hadnt been a few minutes ago, in her arms. Hed needed her, no different than shed needed him.
Im okay with doing what feels natural, she said softly, as long as neither of us build up unreasonable expectations.
He stilled. His eyes met hers, unbending even in the darkness. What are you worried about, Cam? Spill it out.
She was worried about needing him too much. About hurting someone whod been impossibly good to her. About failing a man who deserved someone who would never fail him. So she said, I wont lie to you, MacDougal. I loved Robert. I still love Robert. I dont have the power to make those feelings go away.
No ones asking you to, he said sharply, but then he pulled her in his arms for a second time. The first kiss insured she was cut off from saying anything more. And then he made love to her, insuring she didnt have the energy for anything but him-and them.
She woke once in the night, on the tip of a nightmare, but she found herself soothed and smoothed in Petes arms, and the bad dream just seemed to disappear.
The next time she opened her eyes, it was daybreak. And he was gone.
Seven
For three days in a row, the family had complained that Pete was as much fun to be around as a crabby porcupine. So this morning, the instant he heard sounds of life stirring upstairs, he sucked down a mug of coffee and pasted on a stupid, happy smile. By the time vigorous fighting had broken out between the twins, he had the eggs whipped to a frenzy. By the time he heard the sound of his fathers cane on the stairs, he popped down the toast.