Come Morning (27 page)

Then suddenly, she was soaring, sailing upward and beyond, falling off the edge of the earth.

Heart thundering in her ears, she clung to him as the aftershocks buffeted her. He held on, letting her slide back, giving her time. At last, her breathing slowed and she opened her eyes to find him watching her, a smile of satisfaction on his face. She’d been on the receiving end, yet he looked enormously pleased.

As she found her footing and eased back from him, thankful that her legs would hold her again, she realized that the water had cooled considerably. Or was it just that her skin was so overheated from his loving attention?

Reaching behind her, Slade turned off the water. He didn’t have to ask if she’d enjoyed that. Her lovely face had registered every emotion from stunned surprise to sensual satisfaction. He shoved open the door, stepped out, and grabbed towels for both of them.

But he didn’t waste precious time on drying off completely, painfully aware of his erection demanding attention. Quickly, he wrapped his towel around his waist, then reached for another to help dry Brie’s hair. She was moving slowly, still in a haze, and he was growing impatient.

Bending, he picked her up, towels and all, and walked toward the big four-poster bed. While she’d started her shower, he’d lighted a chunky candle on the nightstand and shoved back the spread. Pale blue sheets invited them.

“I’m not dry yet,” Brie protested. “I’ll get the bed wet.”

“Sheets dry.” He placed her on the bed, then followed her down.

She sat up, rubbing the smaller towel over her hair. “At least I won’t soak your pillow.”

“Your
pillow,” he answered. “The one next to it is mine.” To sleep with her, to sleep holding her. His heart lurched in anticipation.

He took the towel from her. “Here, let me.” With strong fingers, he began massaging her scalp, rubbing the soft terrycloth over her head. “I love your hair. Did I ever tell you that?”

“No, I probably would have remembered.” Actually, he’d never said much about her looks, but his eyes had spoken volumes. His hands were on her neck now, then on her bare shoulders, his touch light, caressing. She felt a shiver skitter along her spine.

“Are you cold?”

She turned, met his eyes. “With you touching me? I don’t think that’s possible.”

The look held, warmed. “You flatter me.”

“I don’t need to flatter you.” On second thought, perhaps she did, Brie decided. He, too, had to be a little nervous. Perhaps he needed just a touch of reassurance. She would give it to him, gladly, honestly. Removing the towel from her head, she tossed it aside and sank back onto the pillow. “From the first time you touched me, I haven’t been able to deny this overwhelming response to you. That sort of thing never happened to me before, not with anyone.”

“It’s not usual for me, either.” How beautiful she looked with her blond cloud of hair fanned out on the blue pillowcase. Leaning down to her, he braced himself on one elbow. “You’ve been playing hell with my concentration since day one. At first, I wanted to throttle you. Then, even knee deep in paint fumes, all I wanted to do was throw you down on the grass and jump your bones.”

Her smile was very female. “Honestly?”

“You don’t believe me?” He reached for her hand and placed it on a section of the towel that was still loosely wrapped around his waist, the section that was straining for action.

Her eyes went wide but her fingers tightened on him. “That’s only because you’ve got a naked woman in your shower, in your bed. Most men would…”

“I’m not most men and you’re not just any naked woman.” Ever more impatient, he parted the towel that covered her, revealing breasts so very beautiful and yearning toward his touch. He decided to accommodate them.

Not to be outdone, feeling bolder by the minute, Brie slipped her own hand beneath his towel and went exploring. She heard him groan out loud.

“Listen, I’m having a little trouble here,” he confessed, angling back from her, not wanting things to be over way too soon. “I wanted to take this slowly, but…”

“Don’t go slowly,” she told him, arching into his touch. They’d had weeks to built up to this. “I want you too much for slowly.”

It was all the encouragement he needed. Yanking aside both towels, he looked down into her eyes. He saw just the smallest hint of uncertainty and a desperate attempt to hang on to her control. He wanted to shatter that control, to bring her to her knees as she’d done to him.

His mouth took hers in a fierce kiss as he gathered her close, her breasts grazing his chest enticingly. Her mouth softened, opened, invited. Her tongue danced with his in remembrance of other kisses they’d shared, in celebration, in surrender. Flesh to flesh with her at last, Slade knew he’d met his match with this fiery woman.

His body was taut and straining, still he held off, raining kisses on her satin shoulders, her throat, and in her ear, feeling her shudder a response. But needs too long held in check pounded at him and he knew he hadn’t much time left. Slipping a hand between their bodies, he touched her deeply. He felt her respond with a jolt she couldn’t suppress.

But it wasn’t his fingers Brie wanted, not this time. Shifting, she reached down and guided him inside her.

Slade swallowed her soft sigh of pleasure as he joined more deeply with her, then began to move, knowing the climb would be short this first time. He’d waited so long, wanted so badly, but he’d make it good for her or die trying.

Brie let the power of his kiss fire her, let the rhythm of their movements take her. This is what she’d been needing, wanting, this mindless giving and taking. Her hands on his back still damp from their shower alternately gripped and caressed. She was peripherally aware of the rain pelting the windows, of the scent of the candle on the bedside table mingling with the aroma of soap and shampoo.

But mostly she was aware only of Slade. Slade on her and in her and with her, taking her higher and higher still. When at last she hit the summit and felt the waves of sweet pleasure ripple through her, she knew he’d been with her all the way.

Chapter Twelve

B
riana came awake slowly, very slowly. First, she became aware she was snuggled down under a wonderful old patchwork quilt with her head nestled in a goosedown pillow. She was warm and cozy, her limbs feeling languid, her body still humming. From outside, she heard rain whipping against the windows and pelting the roof, not gently but steadily beating down. Nasty weather just begs a body to sleep late.

Squirming about, she became aware of her physical self more slowly. She wasn’t wearing a gown, a surprise, since sleeping in the nude was something she rarely did. With that piece of knowledge came curiosity so she opened one eye. A strange room, semidark, white slatted wooden blinds on the windows, blue carpeting, a heavy dresser against the far wall, the scent of vanilla lingering in the air. A half-burnt candle in a brass holder next to the telephone on the nightstand. Nothing familiar.

The master bedroom in Slade’s house, of course. Memories rushed back as heat moved into her face.

Shifting, she opened the other eye at the same time as she inched her right hand toward the other side of the bed. Nothing. No one. She sat up.

Empty, the indentation of his head still on his pillow. The sheets were still warm, so perhaps he hadn’t been up long. She glanced toward the bathroom door and saw it was ajar. He wasn’t there. She inhaled deeply, but couldn’t pick up the scent of coffee. She knew how much Slade loved that first cup of morning coffee. Apparently, though, he wasn’t down in the kitchen brewing a pot.

Flopping back, Briana struggled with a sense of loss. Stupid to feel that way, she supposed. One night, great as it was, was hardly a commitment or even a genuine love affair. It was … a one-night fling, perhaps. She shuddered at the words, the thought, the implication.

Heaving a mighty sigh, she closed her eyes. Well, what had she expected? A morning after that included awakening to a kiss, then breakfast in bed? She’d had candlelight and been carried up the stairs a la Rhett Butler and several bouts of mind-blowing sex. If that’s all there was, she’d have to be a big girl and accept it.

But she wouldn’t have to like it.

So cold, so cruel, she thought, leaving her like this. A glance at the clock radio told her it was barely seven. Had he wanted to get away from her so badly he’d gone for an early morning run on the beach in a downpour? Face it, kid, she told herself. Mornings after were the pits.

Her clothes, she imagined, were still in a damp heap in the corner of the bath. Swell. She’d have to borrow something of his to go home in. And since he’d said he never used this bedroom, that meant his clothes were probably down the hall. Terrific.

She’d not been one to jump into a man’s bed readily, not even in college away from home for the first time. Perhaps if she had, she’d have known what to expect. She’d been as ill prepared for this as she’d been for a man like Slade to enter her life. Which, translated, meant not at all.

She’d grown up around men like her father, who had two college degrees, spoke several languages, and was a wine connoisseur. And like Robert and Craig, both of whom wore designer suits, bought imported shoes, and had their hair trimmed weekly at a salon. Slade, on the other hand, had graduated from the school of hard knocks, wore his hair a shade too long, probably didn’t own a tie, didn’t know chablis from champagne, and made beer his beverage of choice.

But her father, though oozing charm, was lousy husband material. She’d divorced Robert and didn’t much care for Craig. Slade with his rough edges and blunt talk was a genuine person, a good man. And he could excite her merely by walking into a room.

For all the good that would do her.

She might as well get going. She’d make it easier for him by leaving so he wouldn’t have to face her, wouldn’t have to make excuses. Flinging back the covers, Brie sat up.

Just as she did, she heard a door downstairs slam, then footsteps on the stairs. Feeling caught in the headlights without clothes, she ducked back under the covers.

The door opened slowly, as if not to disturb anyone still asleep. From under partially lowered lids, she saw Slade creep in and make his way to the bed. His hair was damp and he was carrying a large white paper bag. The unmistakable smell of coffee drifted to her nostrils. Briana opened her eyes.

“Hi, lazybones.” A smile on his face, he set down the sack, slipped off his shoes, and sat down. Leaning to her, he trailed a finger along her cheek, then kissed her lingeringly. “Good morning.”

Uncertain how to respond to this very different scenario than the one she’d been imagining, Brie smiled back. “You’re up awfully early and you’re wet.”

“It’s still raining and I got hungry. We forgot to eat last night.” His lips twitched. “Had other things on my mind.”

“Me, too. Rather nice things.”

“Hold that thought because we’re going to come back to it. But first…” He reached for the sack, set it between them. “Breakfast.”

Scooting upright, propping the pillow at the headboard behind her, Brie pulled the sheet up and anchored it under her arms. “What’ve we got?” Her mouth began to water.

“Seems I remember a certain someone once saying that chocolate is nature’s most perfect food, or something like that.” He took out a Styrofoam plate and placed it between them on the quilt before pulling things from the bag, like a small boy revealing his favorite toys. “Soooo, we have chocolate croissants still warm from the bakery oven. Then from Rose’s Specialty Shoppe, we have chocolate-dipped strawberries. And from the deli, freshly brewed coffee.”

He finished by laying down two paper napkins before tossing aside the bag. “I suppose I should’ve stopped in the kitchen and fixed these on some fancy plate of Jeremy’s and poured the coffee in a couple of those delicate little china cups he has. But frankly, I was in too big a hurry to get back up here to you.”

Could anyone resist such a reason? Briana looped an arm around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss, her eyes suddenly filling. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He caught the tears. “What? Is something wrong?” He couldn’t imagine what. He’d been gone less than an hour. No one knew she was here so they couldn’t have phoned and upset her. “Are you all right?”

Blinking, she smiled. “I’m better than all right. I’m just a little taken aback. No one’s ever brought me breakfast in bed before. I feel so … so …”

“Special? That’s how I want you to feel.”

“I was going to say spoiled, but your choice is better.” She took the cup he handed her, inhaled the wonderful aroma, and sipped. “This is heavenly.”

Slade tore off a section of buttery croissant and held it to her mouth, feeling silly, feeling good. He supposed he
was
spoiling her a little. Never in his life had he ever spoiled a woman, or romanced one, for that matter. Rachel hadn’t seemed the type and there hadn’t been anyone else who’d lasted very long.

No hearts, no flowers, no crystal glasses clinking or walks in the moonlight holding hands. Yet this morning when he’d awakened early, he’d had this irrepressible urge to do something nice, something surprising for Brie. He didn’t want to question what motivated his impulse, but the look on her face, the tears in her eyes when he’d returned, were worth having to go out in a downpour.

The warm confection slipped down her throat smooth as melted butter. Brie felt like purring. How could she have been so off base as to imagine he’d turn from her after the night they’d shared? Her self-confidence had to be at a new low. Either that or she’d become paranoid. She’d obviously misjudged him. “Do you do this a lot, cater to women?”

Slade scrunched the pillow against the headboard and leaned back. “I made peanut butter cookies for my mother once. You know, from those refrigerated rolls you slice and bake? I was eleven, I remember, a year after Jeremy left. It was her birthday and she was so sad. She cried when she saw them.”

Just like he’d moved her to tears. “She must have loved you very much.”

“I guess. But then, I was all she had.” But he didn’t want to talk about his past. “Do you know it’s coming down harder than ever out there. I heard on the car radio that winds with hurricane force were pounding along the coast of the Carolinas.”