Garden of the Moongate (22 page)

An all-consuming passion ignited between them as Ric's rough fingertips grazed over her shoulders and down along her spine, burning her skin wherever they touched and evoking a soft moan from her as he unfastened the clip of her bra. The wisp of sheer white lace drifted to the floor, and he pressed warm, seeking kisses over her creamy bare shoulders.

"Let me look at you," he whispered, putting her away from him and taking a step back. And as his heavy-lidded eyes played over the frantic rise and fall of her rounded satin-sheened breasts his own breathing became more rapid, almost ragged. "Allie," he groaned, "you are enchanting."

Allendre's heart pounded in her throat and she closed her eyes as he reached out and touched the firm swells of creamy flesh with almost reverently gentle fingertips. As his forefingers traced burning circles around the rose-colored peaks she caught her breath sharply, appalled by the burning ache that blazed to life inside her. This was madness, a remnant of her sanity screamed at her. She shouldn't be letting any of this happen. It was the drinks, she tried to excuse herself. If she hadn't had those drinks, she wouldn't be standing here nearly naked and completely vulnerable before Ric. She wouldn't ever have let him undress her if she hadn't had those drinks, and she certainly wouldn't be longing for him to take her to his bed and possess her completely. But even as she tried to excuse her incredible actions, she knew she was lying to herself. The small amount of alcohol she had consumed had nothing to do with what was happening. She wanted him and needed to belong to him, and that was the only real reason.

Opening her eyes again but bending her head, she watched breathlessly as his strong brown hands moved down to encircle her slim waist, and she eagerly slipped her arms around his neck as he drew her to him. The rough hair on his chest tickled her breasts, and she shivered, then suddenly tensed as his fingers moved beneath the waistband of her panties. "No, Ric. Please," she whispered tremulously, nuzzling her heated face against the strong brown column of his neck.

One of his hands moved up to tangle in her hair and pull her head back. He smiled down at her, the passion in his eyes warring with an equally strong desire to be gentle. "I don't think I'll ever understand you, Allie," he murmured, his breath caressing her lips. "Sometimes you can be such a shy little thing."

Shaking his head indulgently when she caught her lower lip between her teeth, he pulled her arms down from around his neck, took her by the hand, and drew her across the room to the huge mahogany four-poster, where he pulled back the covers in one sweeping motion. His thumb played with her trembling fingers and his eyes searched her face as he murmured, "Allendre, it's time to go to bed."

Her legs nearly collapsed beneath her and she had to bite back a gasp as she instinctively tried to pull away. "Ric, I…" she breathed, "I don't think I can."

"You have to now," he answered roughly, sweeping her up in hard, relentless arms but being very gentle when he put her down on the cool blue satin sheets. His lips touched hers, then lingered tenderly as he murmured, "I need to make love to you, Allendre. I can't wait any longer."

What was she doing? she asked herself frantically; then the question was forgotten completely as Ric got onto the bed beside her. One fingertip touched her lips and began a slow, stroking motion across them until they parted. Her eyes flickered open, then flew shut again when she realized he apparently didn't have anything on.

Ric laughed softly into her ear. "Allendre, you baby. Are you just feeling dizzy because of those drinks you had? Or are you afraid to look at me? I can't imagine why you should be. I'm just a man."

That was precisely what bothered her, and color flooded her cheeks. "But I… I've never…"

"Never made love before dark," he finished erroneously, curving his hand over her hip and turning her to him, his mouth moving closer and closer until it feathered against hers. "But I'm going to prefer making love to you in the twilight, Allie," he whispered seductively. "This way I can look at you all I want."

The roughness of his bare skin against the softer texture of hers sent ripples of sensual excitement up and down her spine, and as he pressed her close against the hardening length of his body she was no longer thinking coherently enough to resist. He had always had the ability to drive all rational thoughts from her mind, and under these circumstances she had no chance to exercise her common sense. She could only love him and want to know how it would be to be possessed totally and irrevocably by him. His lean, muscular body invited her hesitant touch, and she smiled slightly, pleased that she could arouse him, too, by merely running her hands over his bare back.

Then, suddenly, before she could even want to prevent it, everything went out of control. Ric's mouth was devouring the softness of hers, and his hands were freely roaming over her slight body, conveying an urgent insistency wherever they touched. She strained against him, caught up in his passion, to finally become lost in her own, aching with the need to experience all the pleasure she knew intuitively he could give her. When the evocative weight of his firm body pressed her down into the soft mattress, she wrapped her arms around his waist and moved against him as his tongue opened her mouth and probed the sweet moistness within. Her legs weakened and moved apart without hesitation as his muscular thigh slipped between the satiny smoothness of hers.

"I've never needed anyone the way I need you," he muttered hoarsely, nibbling her ear until a wild tremor shook her body. Then his lips played over every inch of her neck, down to her collarbone, over her taut full breasts, lingering for a moment to taste their throbbing sweetness. And as he began to tug at her waistband Allendre twined her fingers in his thick hair. She relaxed beneath him, and her hands caressed his neck and clung to his broad shoulders. "Ric," she whispered, "say you love me."

His scattered kisses ceased. Ric lifted his head, his eyes dark blue and mysteriously unreadable as they pierced the soft green of hers. "Why did you say that, Allendre?" he asked, his voice appealingly husky. "It sounded as if… well, like something a… an inexperienced girl would say. And you're not…" He took a sharp, disbelieving breath as she blushed and looked away; then his hand clamped her jaw and he forced her to meet his eyes again. "Allendre, are you a virgin?" he demanded with blunt urgency. When she nodded, he closed his eyes. "Oh, my God!"

Allendre touched his face. "Does it matter, Ric?"

"Yes, it matters! Don't you see I've been totally wrong about you? Every impression I got of you that day in Kennedy Airport was completely wrong. You and that girl…Who was she anyway?"

"My cousin," Allendre said unhappily, not quite certain why suddenly everything had gone wrong. "She's my cousin, Lynn."

"Well, I overheard you talking about some wild party… and I'd already overheard her admitting that your Aunt Nita or Nina or whatever her name is had predicted both of you would come to no good. I naturally assumed you two must be fairly uninhibited girls."

Allendre had to smile. "When my cousin Roger was only three, Aunt Nita predicted he would someday become a name on the ten-most-wanted list. He's made a name for himself, all right—he was just elected to the state legislature. When she made that prediction about Lynn and me, we were only ten or so. She doesn't have much patience with children, I'm afraid. And the rest, about the party—it was only a joke. Good heavens, Lynn's husband, Neal, will soon become a music director in a
church
. They don't ever throw wild parties! At least they've never invited me to one."

"And so you obviously don't even drink, do you?" Ric muttered, his mouth twisting with self-disdain. "I began to suspect as much when that Shannon Daisy was too strong for you, but then I decided you just weren't accustomed to the taste of rum."

"I've had drinks before," Allendre protested, not wanting him to think her completely inexperienced in everything. "I'm not a Goody Two-Shoes."

"Just a little girl I've been trying to seduce," he muttered, turning over to lie on his side facing her. "God, I feel like a real cad."

Missing the warm strength of his body against hers, she turned over, too, and reached out to him, pain darkening her eyes when he stilled her hands. "But, Ric," she whispered bewilderedly, "I wanted you to make love to me. I… I still do."

"You don't know what you want, Allie," he retorted, his own eyes dark, too. "If it hadn't been for the rum, you'd never have let me undress you and bring you to bed."

"But I—"

"Allendre, I'm no saint," he interrupted tiredly. "But I have to draw the line at seducing intoxicated innocents."

"I'm not intoxicated!" she cried impatiently, raising her head, surprised at the slight dizziness she felt. "Well, maybe I am a little buzzy, but…"

"A little buzzy," he repeated wryly, shaking his head. "I think that's putting your condition too mildly. You didn't need me seducing you tonight. What you need is about twelve hours' sleep."

"I'm not a bit sleepy, though," she whispered, touching light fingertips to his cheeks. "I don't want to sleep. I'd rather you kissed me again."

"Don't press your luck, Allie," he murmured, catching her fingers in a tight grip. "I'm naked and you are too, almost, so this is a dangerous situation. I still want you."

"Then…"

"Go to sleep, Allendre," he commanded gently, brushing her tousled hair back from her cheek. "Tomorrow I'll apologize properly for misjudging you."

"Oh, Ric, I'm sorry," she mumbled, suddenly close to tears, wanting to tell him she loved him but knowing she couldn't. "I didn't mean to…"

"You didn't do anything; I've done it all myself," he said soothingly. "Now just relax. Everything will look better in the morning."

Utterly dejected and exhausted, Allendre allowed him to guide her head into the hollow of his shoulder, and before she could nuzzle her cheek into the comfortable warmth, she fell asleep.

When Allendre opened her eyes Thursday morning and saw where she was, she turned over hastily to look beside her, but Ric wasn't there. Not certain whether she was relieved or disappointed, she glanced at the clock on the bedside table.

"Ten till ten!" she exclaimed softly, sitting up straight, then blushing hotly when she caught sight of her bare breasts in the mirror across the room. Moaning, she lay back down again, hiding her face in Ric's pillow. A lingering trace of his lime-scented aftershave evoked another embarrassed moan as she recalled every humiliating moment of last night in vivid detail, hardly able to believe how stupidly she had handled herself and the entire situation. Right now Ric must be thinking she was an absolute fool, and she couldn't really blame him. At least he had assumed those two drinks had made her respond to him so wantonly, but, unfortunately, she still had to live with the fact that she found his touch far more intoxicating than any alcoholic drink could ever be. That was a disturbing realization. It meant she might react in the same imbecilic fashion the very next time he touched her.

Turning over onto her back, she stared gloomily at the cream-colored ceiling. It had been a mistake to take the job at Shannon House knowing how deeply she was falling in love with Ric, and she had known that when she accepted the position. Until last night, however, she had actually fostered the foolish hope that he might fall in love with her, too. But now that hope was gone. He hadn't been able to lie and say he loved her even when she had practically begged him to. Chewing her lower lip, she almost wished he had been deceitful. If he had uttered the lie, they would have made love and he might still be here with her now. But he hadn't, and she was alone, without even enough of her pride left to give her much comfort.