Darkness Unknown (12 page)

“Not as much as I did,” she admitted, even as her cheeks burned hot.

“So here's the problem. I can't tell you anything about what I do when I'm not here. Not now, maybe not ever. You already know my job is dangerous, but you wouldn't even know that much if your dogs hadn't found me that night.”

He finally turned to face her directly, putting his big hands on her shoulders.

“I want to be here for you, Gwen, as long as you understand that I can't promise anything will come of it.”

So he was offering her a good time while it lasted? That hurt, but he was clearly trying to be up-front about what he could and couldn't promise. The only question was whether it was worth the risk of being badly hurt. Because she very much feared she wouldn't be able to keep things light with him. Not only did she honestly like him, but she'd never felt this powerful attraction for anyone else.

But the situation stirred up memories of her mother's sorrow, which had shadowed the last years of her life. Gwen most certainly didn't want that for herself, and her logical mind told her to run from him, to protect herself at all costs.

Her heart, though, heard Jarvis's offer differently. It recognized that he was offering her as much of himself as he could give. It made her sad that he was forty-five years old and had never let himself get even this close to a woman before. How could she throw that back in his face? Especially because she'd never, ever felt this way about any man and might never again.

She mustered up a shaky smile. “Jarvis, I don't know where this will lead, either. But I don't want you to walk away from me one minute before you absolutely have to.”

He smiled broadly, then wrapped his arms around her and leaned down to kiss her sweetly, a gentle wooing that melted every bone in her body. If not for his support, she would have collapsed on the ground. Any second thoughts were lost in his kiss.

 

Jarvis was afraid to stop kissing her, fearing her commonsense nature would remind her what a poor risk he was. The selfish part of him was doing cartwheels because she'd heard every word and still wanted him.

He slowly broke off the kiss but continued to hold her close. She seemed to need the embrace as much as he did because she made no move to step away. Then his stomach growled, reminding him how long it had been since lunch.

He felt the vibration of Gwen's laughter through his chest. “Hey, big boy, don't they feed you where you work?”

He tugged on her hair. “Just so you know, smarty, I planned on taking you out to dinner.” Then he realized that he hadn't seen Chase yet. “Should we ask your brother to go with us?”

Gwen leaned back to smile up at him. “What's the matter? Feel like we need a chaperone? If so, we're in trouble. He's gone until the day after tomorrow. He was supposed to call you or Jake.”

“He probably did, but I haven't checked my messages.” Then the meaning of what she'd told him sank in: they were
alone.

“If you're not set on going out for dinner, I've got leftover fried chicken and potato salad.” Gwen slipped her arm around his waist as they started back toward the house.

Hot damn! “I'd be a fool to turn that down. Jake came back raving about your fried chicken.”

She looked pleased. “Well, he didn't get any of the peach pie sitting on the counter right now, so you can lord that over him.”

“Peach pie
and
fried chicken? Woman, where
have you been all my life?” He picked her up and twirled her around, loving the way she laughed.

“I'm so glad I found you—and not because you're a great cook. I also like your brother, and even your dogs.”

She gave him an arch look. “As I recall, I found
you,
not the other way around.”

“True enough.” He kissed her again. “At least I was smart enough to end up half dead in the right river.”

“I'm not sure ‘smart' is the right word, but it's certainly worked out well.” She led the way into the kitchen. “Lucky us, huh?”

Jarvis knew he was, but he wasn't so sure about her. He would make sure to treat her right, and maybe she'd remember that when she learned he was teaching her brother how to be a killer just like him.

 

Dinner was relaxed and casual, the conversation easy. They both loved westerns and fantasy novels. Gwen claimed not to be much of a sports fan, but had absorbed a lot of knowledge through her brother. It felt damned good to spend time with an attractive, funny woman that he didn't have be on his guard with the whole time.

When they'd both eaten their fill, she put away the leftovers. “Leave the dishes. I'll do them later.
Why don't you go put a movie in while I cut the pie?”

“Any preferences on the movie?”

“I like them all, except the ones on the left side. My brother's taste in movies isn't quite mine.”

“What, you don't live for car chases and explosions?”

She laughed.

He skimmed the titles and decided on
The Fellowship of the Ring,
since she'd mentioned it being a particular favorite during dinner. After setting the DVD, he sank down in the corner of the sofa. Like everything else in Gwen's house, the furniture was chosen for comfort. He couldn't remember ever feeling as at home anywhere before.

When Gwen came into the room, she set a piece of pie and a glass of milk on the coffee table in front of him, then sat down as close to him as she could without being in his lap. He'd talk her into trying that later.

He clicked the button to start the movie. As soon as the credits started rolling, she gave a happy sigh. “I was hoping you'd pick this one. I loved the whole series, especially Aragorn. You've just got to love a man who swings a big sword!”

Jarvis choked on his milk, trying not to laugh or spray the milk out. It was a shame he couldn't offer to show her
his
sword.

She patted his back. “Are you all right?

“I'm okay,” he gasped. “I just swallowed wrong.”

As the movie played, Gwen cuddled in closer and he put his arm around her shoulders. Just holding her close felt damn good. When he started toying with her hair, she looked up and smiled. He couldn't resist the urge to kiss the freckles scattered across the top of her cheeks and nose.

“I still need to get back to counting, you know. I haven't forgotten.”

Her eyes sparkled. “That's fine, as long as you don't tell me how many there are. I really don't want to know.”

“But I like them. I've always been a sucker for a beautiful redhead, especially with green eyes and freckles.”

“Yeah, right.” But she wanted to believe him; he saw it there in the way she looked at him. “I bet you have a line like that for every hair color.”

“Nope. And there's only one redhead who appeals to me.” He shifted to lift her onto his lap. “She's blinded me to any other woman.”

“Really.”

She was still skeptical, so he kissed her, showing just how hot she made him burn with the slightest touch.

Her arms wound around his neck and her fingers tangled in his hair as she met his demands with a few of her own. Her kiss tasted of peaches and desirable woman, and the heat they generated settled right
where she was sitting. If she had any doubts that he wanted her, she could feel the hard evidence.

He filled his palm with her breast and squeezed, loving the sounds she made when his touch pleased her, or when she demanded more of the same. And he liked that his Gwen didn't need much coaxing. She reached for his shirt buttons, undoing enough to allow her access to his bare chest. Her touch left fire in its wake.

He was skating the fine edge of taking her right there on the couch. It was definitely a step up from the front seat of his car, but she deserved better. “Gwen, honey, I need to slow down before I lose all control here.”

Her sweet eyes studied his face for a heartbeat or two. “And if I want you to lose all control?”

He groaned. “Are you sure? Because I'm willing to wait until you're ready, even if it kills me.” He hoped she didn't take him up on it, though.

Her smile was full of promises and heat, the kind of a smile that a man wanted his woman to keep just for him.

“My bedroom's upstairs. I think the light's better there for freckle counting.” She slid off his lap and held out her hand.

With that look in her eyes, he would have followed her straight into hell. But as they climbed the stairs, he knew heaven was waiting for him at the top.

T
here was a skylight in the slanted ceiling over the queen-size bed, bathing it in the soft glow of the evening sky. The room matched the rest of the house, comfortable and welcoming. It suited Gwen perfectly, from the soft green of the walls to the bright-colored quilt that covered the bed.

As soon as they crossed the threshold, Gwen turned into his arms and smiled up at him. “Kiss me.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

He brushed his lips across hers before finally getting down to the serious business of making love to this woman who had invited him into her home, and then into her bed.

As he kissed her, he undid the last few buttons of his shirt and shrugged it off. Gwen murmured her approval as her hands skimmed over his back
and shoulders. He toed off his shoes and kicked them out of the way while Gwen did the same.

She came up for air and stepped back. For the first time, her smile looked tentative as she unfastened the three buttons at the top of her shoulders and let her dress fall to the floor at her feet. Her underwear was plain, but the peach tone suited her coloring. He was sorely afraid his tongue was hanging out at all that luscious beauty.

When she started to unfasten her bra, he reached out to stop her. “Let me. I've been dreaming of this moment since that first morning.”

Her hands dropped back down to her sides as she waited, now looking a little more sure of herself. Before he'd allow himself the privilege of touching her skin, he reached for the zipper of his slacks and shed them along with his socks. The rest could wait.

His fingers felt shaky as he eased a fingertip under the strap of her bra and slid it down over her shoulder. She shivered despite the heat that shimmered between them. The second strap slid out of the way, then he stepped behind her to undo the back clasp—and realized that they were standing in front of a full-length mirror. The bra fell to the floor and his heart almost stopped.

Her breasts were full and firm and tipped with rosy nipples that beaded up hard, begging for his attention. Holding her gaze in the mirror, her eyes
wide with anticipation, he slowly brought his hands up to cup the lower curve of her breasts.

Her skin felt like woman-scented silk, just as he'd known it would. She arched back at his touch, leaning into his chest and twining her hands back behind his neck, offering herself up to him. Nuzzling her neck, he whispered heated promises and praise in between soft kisses.

Gwen had never experienced anything as wonderful as this slow dance of touches and sighs. How had she lived this long without knowing that watching a man's hands learn her body could be so seductive? Of course, she'd never known a man like Jarvis before, nor had she ever invited a man to climb the stairs to her bedroom until now.

His dark eyes met hers in the mirror, and he smiled. It should have seemed odd to be standing there with a man she'd known such a short time, both clad in only underwear and skin. But if she had to chose a perfect moment in her life, this would be it. They were headed for the bed that she had never shared with anyone else, and she couldn't wait.

“Jarvis, let's…,” she said as she tried to urge him in that direction.

“Not yet. I'm not done looking.” His smile was a bit wolfish as one hand stayed busy kneading her breasts and the other caressed past the curve of her waist to pause at the narrow band of elastic of her panties.

Was he going to…oh Lord, yes. His fingertips slid inside the peach-colored cotton, down and down. She closed her eyes, unable to watch something so incredible erotic. His hand stopped.

“Stay with me, Gwen. It's just me and you here.”

At his insistence, she watched, not at all sure she recognized the woman reflected in the mirror. He continued his feather-light touches, brushing gentle fingers across the curls hidden in her panties. Tension coiled tighter and tighter as she waited for that first intimate touch where she ached for him.

As if reading her mind, he slowly slid his hands back to her waist, leaving her feeling bereft until he peeled her panties down to her feet. She put a hand on his shoulder to keep her balance as she stepped out of them.

When he stood up, she gave him his orders. “Hands to your sides, because it's your turn, Mr. Donahue.”

She palmed his erection through the soft cotton of his boxers, liking his soft gasp and the way his eyes drifted half shut in pleasure. Feeling brazen and a whole lot curious, she slowly dragged his boxers down his long, muscular legs.

“Like what you see?” he asked, his voice rough as he kicked the boxers into a handy corner.

She looked up at him from where she knelt on the floor. “I have to say, Mr. Donahue, that you sure have a lot to offer a woman.”

His laugh was rueful. “Gwen, you're killing me.” He fisted his hands, showing what a struggle it was to keep them to himself.

She rewarded his efforts by cupping his sac and gently squeezing while she stroked him, loving the velvety hard feel of him. The second time she tried it, he broke.

In one swift motion, he swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Then he was right where she wanted him, stretched out full length, half on her, half to the side, their legs and arms tangled together.

His kiss was hot, taking as much as he was giving as their tongues mated and danced, harbingers of what was to come—and she could only hope soon. She felt hollow, needing him to take her, to unite their bodies.

Then he stopped abruptly. “Damn, I didn't come prepared. Gwen, I'm so sorry. I didn't plan on this—on us…and we can't risk it.” He rested his forehead on hers. “I'm sorry.”

It pleased her that he hadn't expected to end up in her bed, that he'd given her the choice of when they would take their relationship this far. But really…

“Good news, big guy. I have a box of condoms in the drawer there. I bought them in case Chase ever had a girlfriend.”

“Bless your foresight, woman.” He grinned.

When he'd covered himself, he picked up where they'd left off. He seemed to find her breasts fascinating, paying a great deal of attention to each in turn.

She did a lot of exploring on her own, loving the steel-hard feel of his muscles as they flexed and moved under his skin. And the man's backside should have been up for an award.

Then he moved up and over her, banishing all thoughts except anticipation. She wrapped her legs up high over his hips, welcoming him into the cradle of her body. He pushed up on his arms, every inch of him straining and poised at the entrance of her body.

She flexed her hips, wanting him now. “Take me, Jarvis.”

How could he refuse her? He bit his lower lip, trying not to lose all control as he thrust once, twice, and then three times before he was where he needed to be, buried deep inside Gwen's welcoming heat. For her sake he wanted to go slow, to give her time to adjust to his invasion, but he wasn't sure he could hold back.

Especially with her digging her nails into his ass, urging him on. When he was sure he wasn't hurting her, he let loose, showing her with his body and with his touch what he couldn't tell her in words.

That she mattered to him more than he could remember anyone ever meaning to him. That he wanted her with every breath he took. And that he
wanted to please her, to wipe her memory clear of any other lover that she'd ever had. Because this moment in time, when his body was learning the beauty of hers, felt as if he'd gone back to the beginning of his life and had been reborn.

“Jarvis!” Gwen called his name as she arched beneath him, clearly hovering on the edge and needing that final push into oblivion.

He reached between them to caress that small nub at the juncture of her legs. He drove into her harder and deeper until he felt her fly apart, trembling underneath him as her inner muscles clasped him tight.

“Hold on, Gwen!” He shuddered as he rode out her climax and then his own. It seemed to last forever, a moment when everything was perfect and new.

After, he shifted to the side, giving her room to breathe as they both floated back down to earth. He kissed her mouth softly, then her cheek, and then her shoulder before tucking her in close. He reached down to snag the quilt that they'd kicked to the foot of the bed and pulled it up over them.

There weren't words for what they'd just shared, so he let the sweet sound of their racing heartbeats say it all.

 

Jarvis stared up at the stars through the skylight. He'd never felt this content in his life before. He'd
enjoyed his share of good sex, but he'd never been one to stick around afterward to prolong the afterglow. Right now, he couldn't imagine ever wanting to leave this bed.

Gwen stirred and lifted her head off his shoulder. She looked a bit surprised to see him, and he suspected that she didn't often wake up to find a man in her bed. That idea pleased him immensely.

“Hi there.” He brushed the hair back from her face as he moved in to kiss her.

Her fingers trailed over his cheek as she smiled against his mouth. “Hi there, yourself.”

This time they let the heat build gradually. With soft touches, slow strokes, and low laughter, the passion rekindled until he pulled Gwen up to straddle his hips. Her eyes drifted shut as she rocked against him.

He loved watching the way her breasts bounced with each movement. Finally, he pulled her forward until he could capture one enticing peak with his teeth and tongue. Gwen leaned in closer, encouraging him to continue. While he suckled her hard, he cupped her bottom and thrust up against her damp core, loving the slight friction but wanting so much more.

At this rate he wasn't going to last long. With no warning he rolled her off to the side. She tried to push back, but he trapped her with the weight of his body. “Give me a minute, honey.”

He reached for protection, but she took it from his hand and ripped open the packet. “Let me.”

But instead of covering him, she decided to torment him a bit, and all he could do was fist his hands in the blanket and hold on for the ride. Who knew that Gwen could work such wicked magic with her fingers and tongue? In only seconds, she drove him half out of his mind with pleasure. If he hadn't begged for mercy, it would have all been over.

Finally, she surrendered the condom. Once he had it in place, he decided on a little revenge of his own. With no warning he flipped her onto her belly and pulled her hips up toward him. Then he slid his fingers between her legs, testing her readiness. Oh, yeah, she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

He positioned himself between her legs and thrust into her from behind. He held on to her hips as he slowly moved in and out, almost withdrawing before plunging back in again.

“Jarvis, quit teasing!”

She dropped her head down onto her arms, arching higher and deepening the angle between them, snapping his control. He rode her hard and fast, the bed shaking with the power of his thrusts. Then Gwen shattered beneath him as he shouted her name and climaxed in a burst of the thunder and lightning.

He withdrew from her body, too spent to do more than tug her down onto the bed beside him.
There would be time for words and kisses when his lungs remembered how to work properly. As their sweat-slick bodies cooled and their pulses returned to normal, he spooned against her back, his face buried at the nape of her neck.

A short while later, Gwen stirred. “Jarvis?”

“Hmmm?”

“Want to join me in a bath?

Now there was an idea guaranteed to bring a man back to life. “If I can find the strength to move, I'd love to.”

She giggled. “I keep forgetting what an old man you are. If you're not up to it…”

He might not be up for everything at the moment, but he'd make it to the tub or die trying.

“You go start the water. I'll be right behind you.”

She moved toward the edge of the bed, giving him an excellent view of the elegant curve of her back. There was strength in this woman, both in her smooth muscles, no doubt from working the farm, but also inside, where it really counted. Gwen Mosely would face down the world as her man's full partner. He really hoped that someday she'd find someone to share her life with—a regular guy who didn't spend his working hours ankle-deep in blood. She deserved that kind of happiness.

And even though it wouldn't be him, he'd keep watch to make sure that guy treated her right—the lucky bastard.

“Jarvis, is something wrong?”

He realized he was glaring at the imaginary guy, his hands clenched in fists. With some effort, he managed a smile. “No, I'm fine.”

“If you're sure…” She pulled the sheet up around her, looking a little uncomfortable.

“I'm sure.” So maybe the smile was a bit ragged. He rolled to the other side of the bed to get up. “I'll scrub your back if you'll scrub mine.”

“It's a deal.”

 

The early morning sunshine cast her lover's face in stark relief. Lost in sleep, even with the dark hint of beard, he looked far younger than forty-five years. She couldn't think of a single reason that he would lie about such a thing, but it was hard to believe that he was seventeen years older than she was. And he sure hadn't acted that old during the long hours of the night, when they'd awakened twice more to make love.

The ticking of her alarm clock reminded her that it was time for her to get up, but she couldn't resist spending these last few minutes lying in Jarvis's arms. He looked so at peace with the world, with the shadows that never seemed far from his eyes gone for the moment. She admired the expanse of his chest and shoulders, left bare by the sheet bunched down around their hips. In the day
light it was easy to see the scars that marked his body, most of them only faint silver lines. Although she knew one or two had to be from the night she'd found him, the sheer number of them spoke of a lifetime of such injuries.

It hurt her to think of him being wounded and in such pain over and over again, although he'd probably downplay it if she were to ask him. He was definitely a man of secrets, but they didn't worry her. With the constant threat of violence in the world, she knew there were men and women who served the side of good in secret. Even if he couldn't talk about it, she knew Jarvis had to be one of them.