Beloved (17 page)

Beloved

He lifted his head and saw her expression. "What's
wrong?"
he asked.

^“
You didn't use
anything," she said.

"No. I assumed that you were on the pill," he
replied. "That
went along with the assumption that
you were sleeping with
Charles and you'd
never gotten pregnant."

The very word made her flush even more. "Well, I'm
not,"
she faltered.

An expression crossed his face that she couldn't
understand. He
looked down at her body pressed so
closely, so intimately to his,
and curiously, his
big hand smoothed over her flat belly in a
strangely protective caress.

"If I made you pregnant..."

He didn't have to finish the sentence. She always seemed
to
know what he was thinking. She reached up and
put her cool
fingers against his wide mouth.

"You know me," she whispered, anticipating the
question he
was afraid to ask.

He sighed and let the worry flow out of him. He bent to
her
mouth and traced it with his lips. "It
would complicate things."

She only smiled. "Yes."

His mouth pressed down hard on hers all at once and his
hips moved suggestively.

She cried out.

He stilled instantly, because it wasn't a cry of pleasure.
"This is uncomfortable for you now," he said speculatively.

"It is," she confessed
reluctantly. "I'm sorry."

"No,
I'm sorry that I hurt you." He lifted his weight away and
met her eyes. "It may be uncomfortable when I
withdraw. I'll be
as slow as I
can."

The blunt remark made her cheeks go hot, but she watched
him
lift away from her with frank curiosity and a
little awe.

"Oh, my," she whispered when
he rolled over onto his back.

"Yes, isn't it shocking?" he
whispered and pulled her gently

Diana Palmer
                                                                          
261

against his side. “And now you know why it was so uncomfort
able, don't you?" he teased softly.

She laid her cheek on his broad shoulder. "I have
seen the
occasional centerfold," she
murmured, embarrassed. "Although I
have to admit that they weren't in your class!"

He chuckled and took a deep, slow breath. "Your body
will
adjust to me."

That
sounded as if he didn't mean tonight to be an isolated
incident, and she frowned, because it worried her. She didn't want
to be his mistress. Did he think that she'd agreed
to some casual
sexual relationship
because she'd given in to his ardor?

His hand smoothed over her long, graceful fingers. “When you
heal
a little, I'll teach you how to give it back," he murmured
sleepily. "That was the first thing I noticed
when I kissed you,"
he added. "You didn't fight me, but you
didn't respond, either."
She sighed.
"I didn't know how," she said honestly. Her wide
eyes stared across his chest to the big, dark
bureau against the
wall. Her nails
scraped through the thick hair on his chest and she
felt him move sinuously, as if he enjoyed it.

His hand pressed hers closer and he stretched, shivering
a little
in the aftermath. "I'd forgotten
how good it could be," he mur
mured. He
tugged on a damp strand of red-gold hair. "I'm not taking you home."

She stiffened. "But I..."

"But, nothing. You're mine. I'm
not letting you go."
That sounded
possessive. Perhaps it was a sexual thing that men
felt afterward. She knew so little about intimacy and how men
reacted
to it.

As if he sensed her concern, he eased her over onto her side so that he
could see her face. It disturbed him to see her expression. "This was a
mistake," he said at once when he saw her eyes.
"Probably my biggest in a long line of them." His big hand
pressed hard against her stomach. "But we're going
to make it
right. If you've got my baby in here,
there's no way you're raising
it alone. We'll get
married as soon as I can get a license."

262

She was even more shocked by that statement than if he'd
asked
her to live in sin with him.

She took a
breath and hesitated.

His eyes held hers firmly. "Do you want my baby?"

The way he said it made delicious chills run down her
spine.
There was all the tenderness in the world in
the soft question, and
tears stung her eyes.

"Oh, yes," she whispered.

He looked at her until her breathing changed, his eyes
solemn
and possessive as they trailed down to her submissive body and
her soft, pretty breasts. He touched them
delicately.

"Then we won't use anything," he murmured,
lifting his eyes
back to hers.

Her lips parted. There were so many questions spinning
around
in her mind that she couldn't grasp one to
single out.

His
fingers went up to her lips and traced them very slowly.
"Why did you give yourself to me?" he
asked.

She stared at him worriedly. "I
thought you knew."

"I hope I do." He looked worried now. "I
really didn't have
any intention of seducing you, in case
you wondered. I was going
to kiss you. Maybe
a little more than just that," he added with a
rueful smile. "But you came in here with me like a lamb," he
said, as if it awed him that she'd yielded so easily.
"You never
protested once, until I hurt
you." He grimaced and brought her
hand to his mouth, kissing the palm hungrily. “I never thought it
would hurt you so much!" he said, as if the memory
itself was
painful. "You cried and started
moving, and I lost my head com
pletely. I couldn't
even stop..."

"But, it's...it's normal for it to be a little
uncomfortable the
first time," she said quickly,
putting her fingers against his hard
mouth.
“Simon, some girls are just a little unlucky. I suppose I
was one of them. It's all right."

He met her eyes. His were still turbulent. "I
wouldn't have hurt
you for the world," he whispered huskily. "I
wanted you to feel
what I was feeling. I
wanted you to feel as if the sun had exploded

Diana Palmer
                                                                      
^26S

inside you." His fingers tangled softly in her hair. "It
was...never
like that," he added in quiet
wonder as he searched her eyes. "I
never knew it
could be." He bent and touched his mouth to hers with breathless
tenderness. "Dear God, I wanted to cherish you,
and I couldn't keep my head long enough! It should have been tender
between us, as tender as I feel inside when I touch you.
But it had been years, and I was like an animal. I
thought you
were experienced...!”

She
drew his face down to hers and kissed his eyelids closed.
Her lips touched softly all over his face, his
cheeks, his nose, his
hard mouth. She
kissed him as if he needed comforting.

"You wanted me, she whispered
against his ear as she held him to her. "I wanted you, too. It didn't hurt
the second time."
His arms slid under
her and he shivered. "It won't ever hurt
again. I swear
it."

Her legs curled into his and she smiled dreamily. He
might not
love her, but he felt something much
more than physical desire for her. That long, stumbling speech had convinced
her of one
thing, at least. She would marry him.
There was enough to build
on.

"Simon?" she whispered.
"Hmmm?"

"I'll marry you."

His mouth turned against her warm throat. "Of course
you
will," he whispered tenderly.

She closed her eyes and linked her arms around him, her
fingers
encountering the leather strap of the prosthesis. "Why
don't you
take it off?" she murmured
sleepily.

He lifted his head and frowned. "
Tira
..."
She sat up,
proudly nude, and drew him up with her so that she
could push the shirt away. She watched his teeth clench as she
undid the straps and eased the artificial appliance
away, along with
the sleeve that covered the rest of
his missing arm.

She drew it softly to her breasts and held it there,
watching the
expression that bloomed on his lean,
hard face at the gesture.

264

Beloved

"Yes, you still have feeling in it, don't you?"
she murmured with the first glint of humor she'd felt in a long time as she saw
the desire kindle in his pale eyes.

"There, and other places," he said tautly.
"And you're walking
wounded. Don't
torture me."

"Okay." She pushed him back down and curled up
against him
with absolute trust.

She looked like a fairy lying there next to him, as
natural as
rain or sun with his torn body. He
looked at her with open curi
osity.

"Doesn't it bother you, really?" he asked.

She nuzzled closer. "Simon, would it bother you if I
was miss
ing an arm?" she asked
unexpectedly.

He thought about that for a minute.
"No."

"Then that answers your question." She smiled.
"I'm sleepy."

He laughed softly. "So am I."

He
reached up and turned off the lamp, drowsily pulling the
covers over them.

She stiffened and he held her closer.

"What is it?" he asked
quickly.

"Simon, do you have a
housekeeper?"

"Sure. She comes in on Tuesdays and Thursdays."
His mouth
brushed her forehead. "It's
Saturday night," he reminded her.
"And we're engaged."

"Okay."

His
arm gathered her even closer. "We'll get the license first thing Monday
morning and we'll be married Thursday. Who do
you
want to stand up with us?"

"I suppose it will have to be
your brothers," she groaned.

He
grinned. "Just thank your lucky stars you didn't refuse to
marry me. Remember what happened to Dorie?"

She did. She closed her eyes. "I'm thankful."
She drank in the
spicy scent of him. "Simon, are
you sure?"

"I'm sure." He drew her closer. "And so
are you. Go to
sleep."

Chapter 9

They got up and showered and then made breakfast together.
Tira
was still shy with
him, after what they'd done, and he seemed to
find it enchanting. He watched her fry bacon and scramble eggs
while
he made coffee. She was wearing one of his shirts and he
was wearing only a pair of slacks.

"We'll make an economical couple," he mused.
"I like the
way you look in my shirts. We'll have
to try a few more on you."

"I like the way you look without your shirt,"
she murmured,
casting soft glances at him.

He wasn't wearing the prosthesis and he frowned, as if he
wasn't certain whether she was teasing.

She took up the eggs, slid them onto the plate with the
bacon,
turned the burner off and went to him.

"You're still Simon," she said simply. "It
never mattered to
me. It never will, except that I'm
sorry it had to happen to you." She touched his chest with soft, tender
hands. "I like looking at
you," she told
him honestly. "I wasn't teasing."

He looked at her in the morning light with eyes that
puzzled
her. He touched the glory of her long
hair tenderly. "This is all
wrong," he
said quietly. "I should have taken you out, bought
you roses and candy, called you at two in the morning
just to talk.