Working on a Full House (30 page)

Roy's brows dove. A teakettle on the stove didn't sound like an intruder. A second later, he was sure he heard one of the cabinet doors softly close.

Valerie was in the kitchen.

Adrenaline from a different source washed through Roy as he turned to squint at the digital dial of the clock radio on the night table beside his bed. Three twenty-three. Valerie was in the kitchen heating water at three twenty-three in the morning. For one trembling moment he considered that fact, and what it might mean. Then he tossed aside the covers and streamed out of bed.

He did not pause to consider the wisdom of the action as, clad in an undershirt and boxers, he strode across the room and wrenched open the door.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The three-in-the-morning still of the kitchen was broken by Roy bursting out of his bedroom like a bat out of hell. Valerie, already wrung out from a difficult call at the hospital, jumped about a foot.

"Valerie," he said, and focused his hunter-ready eyes on her. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" It took her a slow moment to realize he was clad only in a muscle-hugging T-shirt and a pair of dark-colored boxers. Her eyes widened. "Oh, damn, I woke you up. Sorry." Meanwhile an utterly disparate part of her mind registered that he wore a T-shirt and boxers to bed at night. Such modesty was both unexpected and...rather endearing.

"Never mind waking me up," he said in a low growl, prowling toward her. "What's wrong?"

"I — What's wrong?" It took her another long minute to realize what he was talking about, partly because she really
was
tired, and partly because Roy's eyes, so directly focused on herself, were utterly thought-scattering. It was three in the morning and she was fooling around in the kitchen. Of course it seemed like something must be wrong.

"I — no. It's nothing." She did her best to produce a reassuring smile. "Not the baby, or anything, that is. I was on call tonight, and had to go to the hospital. I thought I'd make some tea to help me get back to sleep, that's all."

"You were at the hospital?" While Roy visibly relaxed, his eyes narrowed on her.

"Yeah." Valerie shifted her focus to the teakettle and adjusted its position over the flame.

"What happened?" It wasn't worry any more that she heard in his voice, or rather, a different kind of worry, less urgent and somehow, to her fogged mind,
deeper
.

It made a lump grow in her throat as she tried, unsuccessfully, to look nonchalant. "Nicky," she managed, and lifted a shoulder.

"Nicky? Nicky was in the hospital?"

"I know, I know. I only saw him this afternoon." Rubbing her forehead, Valerie willed her face to remain composed. "With such a depressed white blood count, infections can come on like a thunderstorm."

"Is he all right?"

"What defines all right?" Valerie could hear her voice rising. "He'll recover from this one, but — but — " She pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead. "But it's a vicious circle, don't you see? He wound up at the hospital because he can't get that bone marrow transplant. And the money his parents are going to have to spend for this little jaunt tonight is money lost to the cause of getting him the transplant so he won't have to end up in the hospital again!"

Roy was silent a moment. "I see."

"Yeah." Valerie gave an unhappy laugh and lowered her hand. "It's just so — And I feel so...helpless."

"Yes," Roy said slowly. "I can see that, too."

Valerie made an awkward gesture. "I know there's nothing more I can do. I know that, strictly speaking, this isn't even my problem, but — but — "

"But you care about Nicky. And now that you have your own child on the way, you're more...affected."

"
Yes
." Valerie was profoundly grateful that he understood. "Yes, that's it. I can't help but ask myself how I would feel if this were my kid."

"This would never be your kid." Roy's voice was rough. "You would never have done anything by halves, or shirked responsibility."

"Yes, yes, but — "

"This would
never
be your child." Roy took a step closer. "That's what I — That's your deal. Who you are. You wouldn't skip something important, you wouldn't...check out before the job was done."

Check out before the job was done? For a moment, Valerie was thrown off by the oblique statement. But the sincerity of his tone and his apparent faith in her swept past her confusion. Her eyes started to fill. "I — well, everyone makes mistakes."

"Not the big ones." Roy shook his head. "Not you."

Valerie couldn't say a word after that. All she could do was look at him and feel emotion swell inside of her: thankfulness and solace and a confused sort of yearning.

He seemed to think her silence meant he hadn't done a good enough job of reassuring her, for a helpless expression crossed his face before he walked up to put his arms around her.

Valerie didn't resist. His big, strong body was something to lean on. His warm, male scent was something to inhale deeply. She closed her eyes.

How long they stood there like that, Valerie didn't know. She was exhausted, her brain a dizzy mass. Or it was a dizzy mass except for the part noticing the sensations of standing pressed close to Roy's male body for so long. There was the sensation of his chest, a hard but giving wall beneath her cheek. There was the sensation of her breasts, beginning to swell and ache where they met his chest.

But most eloquent of all was the sensation of his erection growing large and hard against her stomach.

Desire rose like thick smoke around them. But while Valerie was content to sink into the heady clouds, she could feel Roy tense. She could feel him start to set her away.

"No." The word shot out of her, startlingly commanding.

Roy froze.

Valerie went still, too, wondering at herself. Had she just said that? Demanded? Of Roy?

And he'd listened?

She pulled back to gaze into his face. He looked like he was in pain...or trying to restrain the kind of impulses Valerie could feel zinging through her own body.

"I should let you go." Roy's voice sounded like gravel.

"Should," Valerie repeated. Her lashes half-lowered. "I have to admit I am getting sick to death of that word." Indeed, at every turn in this relationship she was restraining herself, policing herself, all with respect to what she 'should' or 'shouldn't' do.

She was sick of trying to be prudent. For once, she just wanted to
be
.

And perhaps somewhere in her tired mind was the notion it might be all right anyway. Roy might be starting to love her.

"Don't think about 'should,'" Valerie urged. She draped her arms over Roy's shoulders. "Let's just be real for a change."

His eyes were wary gleams, barely visible beneath his thick lashes. "Be real?"

Valerie lifted on her toes. "You know what I mean," she whispered.

And he did.

Boy, did Roy know what she meant: the reality of the desire beating like a jungle drum between them, the reality of the need, pulling with tethers of steel. The reality of his fear, unspecific but no less powerful, screaming in his ears.

She was too important to him; it was terrifying. He would have set her away, anxious to remove himself from the source of his fear, if it weren't for what he saw glinting from her eyes.

Need.

His needs he could restrain, but hers were something else again. If his life depended on it, he couldn't have let her go. Not when she needed him. Not when she was looking at him as if he held the key to her deliverance.

He lowered his head to hers.

At the contact of her lips, Roy felt something inside him snap. A last hold on sanity? His grip on self-preservation? It hardly mattered, because it was gone, floating into the cosmos.

He could taste her unhappiness about the hospital visit immediately. That might have thrown him, the idea he was merely filling some hole created by the problem of Nicky. But he'd already lost his hold. He deepened the kiss, pulled her closer, and thrust in his tongue.

That jolted her, made her draw in a sharp breath. Thank God. He could feel her sorrow depart and excitement take its place. She wrapped her tongue around his.

If Roy's eyes had been open, they would have crossed. Having lost his grip on whatever had been holding him back, the full force of his desire crashed over him. The waves of it lapped at him as their tongues tangled and danced, as his fingers tasted the resilience of her flesh through her thin blouse, as his hips pressed close to ease the demands of his rigid erection.

Lord, how he wanted her.

No, more than that. He wanted her as wild and untethered as himself. He wanted her to forget her own name, much less Nicky's. He wanted, he wanted...

Without a pause in the dance of their tongues, Roy slipped his hands under Valerie's shirt. He felt a shock of his own arousal at the feel of her soft skin under his fingers. He rode his hands up the smooth muscles lining her spine.

All smooth, it was. No bra.

Making a sound of surprised satisfaction, Roy curved his hands inward, following the gentle curve of her breasts until his fingers found the rigid peaks of her nipples, evidence of her feminine response to him.

His touch made Valerie shudder. Drawing his mouth from hers, wanting to concentrate, he rubbed his thumbs over her stiff nipples. He felt another shudder from her, a stifled moan. And a leap in the waves crashing over him.

"I need another hand," he muttered, drawing his own hands, reluctantly, from under her shirt. Only then could he begin attacking its buttons.

"I know what you mean." Valerie kissed his chin, her tongue flicking, then her lips sucking. Meanwhile her hands, little demons, roved over his chest.

Want and pleasure stirred in an urgent mix. Roy's fingers fumbled on her buttons, but he got them undone, and pulled the sides of her shirt apart.

He stared in manly fascination at her naked breasts, so soft and womanly and full. But while he was growing more aroused at the sight, he could sense her begin to withdraw, self-conscious.

Oh, no, none of that. She had to be as wild and wanting as he was. Acting on instinct, Roy sank to his knees in front of her. He cupped a hand under each lovely sphere, then set his mouth to the one on his right.

Valerie arched against him.

Roy reveled in her response and the vanquishment of her self-consciousness. She was with him in the jungle of desire once again. He slipped his hands to the waistband of her pants. The top button was already undone, a fact he appreciated as he quickly drew down her zipper.

He opened his mouth wide over her breast, lips touching silky flesh, tongue tasting salty center, as he pushed both her pants and her panties down over her hips.

Valerie hissed out a breath. Her fingers dug into his shoulders.

"That's...very good," Roy murmured, nearly crying as his hands palmed over the incredibly soft skin of her bottom. "You have no idea..." None. She could have no possible idea of how sweet this was, the feel of her round bottom in his hands, the way his caresses were making her squirm.

"We gotta — " His thought broke off as his lips left her delicious breast to taste the flesh of her tight abdomen. His arms were around her bottom now, drawing her close enough to feel the tight curls of her apex tickling his chest. He wanted — They needed —

A better platform for this activity. He wanted to make sure he got to taste and feel and pleasure the way he'd been dreaming of doing. Tightening his hold on her bottom, Roy got up from the floor.

"Oh!" cried Valerie, now in the air. Her pants slid to the floor.

"Hang on," growled Roy.

Holding her that way, with her sweet fingers resting on his shoulders, he carried her across the kitchen and through the open door into his bedroom.

"Wait," Valerie said.

Roy stopped.

"The burner." She nearly sobbed the words.

The burner, under the teakettle, it was still on. She was absolutely right. Having the house catch on fire might interrupt their lovemaking.

On the other hand, the woman was still way too clear-headed. That would have to be remedied.

Slowly, he lowered her to the floor, relishing the feel of her bare abdomen and breasts sliding against him. "You," he said sternly. "Stay right here."

"I won't move an inch."

Roy pointed a finger at her, warning, and turned on his heel. It was the work of a moment to stride across the kitchen, wrench the gas off under the burner, then stride back. Valerie stayed right where he'd left her, her shirt open in front, her breasts peeking out at him, and her eyes telling Roy a message he couldn't believe.

She thought she'd ruined the moment, that his momentum had been thrown.

Ha! He'd barely gotten up a head of steam here. To prove it, he didn't slow his stride as he approached, but simply scooped her up and spirited her backward.

"Oh," Valerie exclaimed. Then, "oh!" again, and quite a bit louder, as Roy vaulted the both of them onto the bed.

He didn't give her a chance to ask herself questions or retreat. His mouth came down on hers, hungry, demanding, giving no quarter until he could feel her soften under him, until he could sense her mind beginning to spin as much as his was spinning.

He felt her tugging at his shirt. "Off," she breathed, in between kisses.

Roy stretched one hand behind his back, grabbed a hunk of cotton and pulled his T-shirt off.

"Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes." Valerie's tone was grateful. Delicate fingers sifted through the hair on Roy's chest, turning his skin afire.

Roy thought of stopping those fingers, they were utterly distracting, but then decided he could do some distracting of his own. Moving onto his side, he closed one hand around Valerie's soft breast while tangling the other hand in her soft curls down below. He slid a knowing finger into the hot fold beyond her curls.

She stilled. Roy played his finger further, gently caressing the incredibly soft inner flesh. Valerie's fingers curved against his chest.

Roy's lips found hers again. His kiss was soft, suckling, as his finger explored and pet and circled. Her lips followed his, her whole body still and ready and waiting.