Glow (20 page)

“I love you,” she said in a hoarse, congested whisper.

He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back several inches. She resisted the urge to hide her face and damp cheeks in his neck.

“You don't have to say that because I gave you the bracelet. It wasn't even mine to give. It belonged to Lynn, so it now belongs to you.”

She gave a ragged laugh and rolled her eyes. “Give me some credit. That's not why I'm saying it.”

A small smile tilted his mouth. His eyes shone. Her heart seemed to squeeze in her chest. Her admission had made him happy. It had made her happy, too, despite her former anxiety about it.

“I've felt it for a while.” She shrugged. “I just . . . didn't know if—”

“You could trust it?” he asked calmly, lifting his hand and cupping the side of her head.

She bit her lower lip, her gaze cast downward. “I didn't know how to say it,” she admitted. “I've never said it before.” He delved his fingers into her hair. Her eyelids flickered in contentment when he massaged her scalp. “Was it . . . was it hard for you?” she asked.

“To tell you I love you?”

Her heavy eyelids sprang open at the sound of his deep, rich voice uttering those words.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“At first. I've told you before I've never been much of a romantic. But at some point, it starts to feel like denying the sky is blue.”

She just nodded, her throat too constricted to think for a moment. “I don't know what it means, exactly.”

“You don't have to sign a contract because you say you love someone, Alice.”

She laughed. “I know. I mean . . . I
guess
I do, anyway. Lately, it doesn't feel like I know much of anything anymore.” Her gaze ran over his face. “We have such a complicated, long history. And at the same time . . . everything feels so new,” she confessed. He probably had no idea what she was talking about. Alice wasn't sure
she
did.

His thumb swept over her cheek softly.

“We'll do it just like we're going to do everything else. One day at a time.”

She nodded, recognizing she was staring at him with hope in her eyes. He noticed, and his expression turned sober. He cupped the back of her head and brought her to him. His kiss started out tender, but emotion frothed in her. She kissed him back feverishly, her tongue tangling with his. She slid her hands against the solid wall of his chest, relishing his hardness and the steady beat of his heart. Beneath her, she felt him stiffen. She ground her hips down against his crotch in order to feel him better. Her fingers found the knot of his tie. She broke their kiss, gasping, and jerked, hearing the hiss of silk as she loosened it.

“There's no time. We have to leave for the hospital in a few minutes,” she said against his mouth.

“Then why are you undressing me?”

She blinked in surprise when she glanced down. She'd not only loosened his tie but had the first two buttons of his shirt unfastened and was working on the third.

“Because I want to touch you,” she replied honestly, wasting no time in sending her hand in the opened placket of his shirt. She caressed dense muscle and crisp hair. When she found a small, erect nipple and rubbed it, his mouth went hard. He abruptly grabbed the hand stuck in his shirt and lifted it over her head along with her other wrist. He whipped her T-shirt off over her head and arms in a second flat, tossing it on the floor. Her sports bra soon followed.

“Only a fool doesn't make time for this,” he stated gruffly,
caressing her appreciative nipples too briefly before he turned his focus to unfastening her shorts.

“Do you really think it's wise?” Alice asked, coming up on her knees to assist him as he jerked her shorts down over her ass.

“Who said it had anything to do with wisdom? Stand up for a second.”

She scooted awkwardly back on his thighs, her breasts swaying at the movement. He growled softly and leaned forward, halting her progress by cupping her breasts in his hands, his thumbs running over her nipples.

“God, your breasts,” he muttered, his mouth slanting like he'd just been stabbed by sexual hunger. Alice knew exactly what it felt like. It must have been a result of all the emotion that'd been bursting out of her, but she suddenly felt desperate. She moaned and arched her back shamelessly, willing him to touch her more. He gave her what she wanted momentarily, molding her breasts to his hands and gently pinching and rubbing her nipples until they were distended and stiff. He lifted the globes and let them fall, only to catch them again as they bounced softly. Another moan vibrated her throat. He glanced up at the sound, his eyes shiny with lust.

“Stand up and slip out of your shorts.”

She stood and shoved her shorts and panties down her legs. She straightened, now naked. Dylan was in the process of hastily unfastening his belt and pants. He hooked his thumbs beneath his boxer briefs and stretched the waistband over his erection. Lifting his hips, he pushed his clothing down to his thighs, sat and reached for her in a seamless, hasty movement. Alice once again straddled him in the chair, her breathing coming in choppy bursts.

He fisted his cock, stroking it as he guided her over him.

A moment later, she stared blindly out the window clutching his shoulders as he throbbed deep inside her. He urged her with his hands. Air popped out of her lungs as she began to rise and fall over him.

“That's right,” he told her, his gaze glittering as he watched her. Still setting the pace with one hand cupping her ass, he ran a palm along the curve of her hip to her waist and along the side of her body. He caressed her neck and brushed her cheek. “So beautiful. You're glowing, Alice” he muttered, seemingly transfixed.

“Dylan,” she whispered, laid wide open to him. He cradled a breast and whisked his fingertips over the crest. She whimpered in pleasure, her hips moving faster.

He caught her to him, his hands at her lower back. He impaled her and kept her fixed in place. She cried out when he took a nipple into his mouth, sucking her hotly. She squirmed in his lap. His greed excited her. He was hurting her a little with his brisk suck, but pleasuring her a lot. Her nails bit into dense shoulder muscles. She pushed, desperate to feel the friction of his cock.

He grunted and lifted his mouth for a moment. He grabbed her wrists and drew them to the small of her back. Alice arched her back, bobbing her hips subtly to get friction on her clit. He firmed his grip on both of her wrists and slapped her bottom.

“Why do you always have to be so bad?” he wondered before he spread his hand on her hip and applied pressure, stifling her wriggling. He'd said “bad” but the edge of lust in his tone made it sound like he'd said “good.” He sucked her other breast into his mouth, lashing the nipple with his tongue. Alice moaned uncontrollably. Her spine curved as she offered herself to him again.

His thick shaft filling her was driving her mad. It applied an indirect pressure on her clit. It was impossible not to try to shift her hips, but he held her fast. A sweat broke out on her chest and upper lip, the fever in her seeking an outlet. He continued to torture her breasts and sensitive nipples with his tongue and fingertips.

“Oh, please. Fuck me,” she begged, unable to stand it any longer. She strained against his hold on her wrists, longing to grip his shoulders so she could ride his cock. He tightened his hold on her.

He lifted his head and ran the tip of his firm tongue over her distended nipple. She quaked.

“You don't want to fuck. You want to come,” he said. He grasped her hip and worked his thumb between her labia. He sucked her nipple back in to his mouth while he rubbed and pressed her clit. Alice jumped in his lap. He applied a firmer pressure on her hips, fixing her in place on his lap while he played with her.

While he made her burn. Her clit began to sizzle beneath the pad of his thumb.

“Oh no. No, I want to fuck,” she moaned, mindless with mounting pleasure. He continued lashing and sucking on her nipple, too focused on his task to pay her heed. “Dylan,” she cried out desperately after a moment.

He lifted his head and flicked at her nipple with his tongue. Alice's feet curled in pleasure. “Come for me, and then I'll give you what you want,” he assured before he ran his lips over her wet nipple slowly, as if he wanted to feel every tiny bump to the fullest. It was a sweet erotic gesture, making her clamp him tight inside her. He cursed under his breath.

“Come for me, Alice.”

The hand gripping her hip pressed down and then lifted her slightly, urging her. He granted her enough movement that she could bob a mere inch up and down on his cock. When she recognized the freedom, she shifted her hips rapidly, riding him. Her tensing bottom slapped against his hard thighs, the fast, staccato rhythm betraying her desperation. His thumb moved faster on her clit, a slick, firm command.

“Oh—”

He released her wrists and pushed her roughly to him. His mouth covered hers as she began to shudder in climax. He pushed his tongue between her lips, greedily eating her cries and whimpers as pleasure shook her. She was still coming when he lifted her off him. The deprivation was cruel. She cried out at the loss.

“Hold on,” he said tensely. He moved to the edge of the chair and stood, lifting her with him. When her feet touched the oriental carpet, he turned her so that she faced the desk. He pushed lightly at her shoulders, urging her. “All the way down,” she heard him say. Panting erratically, she pressed her forearms, cheek, breast, and belly to the scattered Durand reports on his blotter, her bottom curving over the edge of the desk. The paper and blotter felt cool against her aroused nipples and hot cheek.

Then he was entering her. She gasped loudly at the impact.

He set a fast, forceful pace from the first. Instinctively, she reached above her head and gripped the far edge of the desk. Her lips parted and a shaky moan slipped between them. Her eyes rolled back in her head as pressure and pleasure pummeled her consciousness. Once he was ready, Dylan always ended up giving her exactly what she wanted.

He grunted roughly and grasped her ass tighter, serving her to his thrusting cock.

“Is this what you wanted, little girl?” he bit out between the lewd slaps as their bodies crashed together.

“Yes.”

He slipped his hand beneath her lower thigh, still thrusting his cock in and out of her. He lifted her leg, forcing her knee to bend. Alice guessed his intent and put one knee on the top of the desk, opening her body even more to him. He plunged deep, and she cried out at the fresh burst of friction and harder pressure. He fucked her faster.

“You make me crazy,” he said from behind her, his tone harsh from driving lust. He grunted in pleasure, and the imagined vision of his focused, controlled savagery leapt into her mind's eye. He thrust using nearly the entire length of his cock, his strong arms propelling her, crashing her body into him in a brutally concise counter rhythm to his hips. She clamped her eyes shut, overwhelmed by sensation, emotion ready to spill out of her at any moment.

“Tell me,” he demanded. “Tell me again.”

“I . . . love . . . you,” she gasped as he pounded into her.

His hands came down next to her elbows on the desk. He thrust at a downward angle, his strokes shorter and faster, their bodies smacking together. He shook her to her very core.

“Oh God,” she moaned, gripping the desk like she thought her life depended on it.

“Alice.”

He sounded as full of sensation and feeling as she was. His cock swelled in her. He plunged deep, groaning roughly. He kept his pelvis locked tight to her and circled his hips slightly, applying a jaw-popping pressure on her clit.

They remained locked like that, joined in rictus of combined, intense pleasure. Alice wished the moment could last forever. But after a dazed moment, his shudders of climax began to differentiate from hers. Slowly, the sound of their harsh breathing slowed and quieted in her ears. Alice inhaled shakily, fully catching her breath for the first time in minutes.

She felt his lips press to her spine. His cock twitched in her channel.

“Should I be sorry?” he asked against her skin.

“God, no,” she whispered, confused by the question. “Why would you be sorry?”

He straightened and pulled her up off the desk, his hands on her shoulders. He wrapped her upper body in his arms. Alice closed her eyes, feeling utterly sated and content.

“Seems like it should have been a little more soulful, after what you just told me,” he said, his mouth pressed against her neck. She sensed his small smile. “But you drive me crazy every damn time.”

She gave a throaty laugh and clasped his forearms. “I could say the same about you. And I love it.” His cock slid from her body and he turned her in his arms. He leaned down and kissed her deeply.

“Soulful and wild. Strong and commanding. Focused and
brilliant,” she murmured dreamily against his lips a moment later. His taste still lingered on her tongue; her nerves still tingled with pleasure from his powerful presence in her body. “That's you, isn't it? Why would you make love any different?” She blinked her eyes open wider, bringing him into focus. “Why would I ever want anything else?” she wondered, her brow crinkling in dazed puzzlement.

His expression sobered. She recognized the hard telltale glint in his eyes. She lifted her mouth to meet his, eager to be claimed once again.

A
fter Alice had hastily washed up, she met Dylan downstairs in the foyer.

“We should only be a few minutes late for the appointment if we hurry,” she said jogging down the stairs.

He waited for her patiently, looking handsome and unruffled once again in his immaculate suit and tie. Alice took his outstretched hand when she neared him.

“What are you frowning about?” Dylan asked.

“You have a lot of nerve, looking like that when I look like
this
afterward.” She referred to the fact that her cheeks were still flushed bright pink in the aftermath of amazing sex, she was panting and sweating a little from running around trying to get ready for the doctor's visit in a rush. Plus, her hair looked like a mop had been dropped on her head, it was getting so long and unruly. To make things worse, her hair color was starting to look bizarre. Parts of the dyed dark brown portion had lightened and faded in the sun, and her reddish undertones and roots were starting to shine through.

Dylan examined her calmly. “You look beautiful.”

She made a disgusted sound. He smiled.

“I'm serious. Your eyes are shining and you're flushed.” He lifted a hand and brushed a warm cheek. “It's my favorite way to see you.”

She gave him a wry grin. “That's because you like to strut over the fact that you made me that way.”

“Caught in the act, but far from guilty,” he replied, dropping his hand and landing a kiss on her mouth. His smile faded as he leaned back and studied her more closely. “Can you do me a favor, though? Start wearing the makeup on your eyes again.”

“What? I thought you hated it.”

“I do,” he murmured, his gaze still pinned on her face. “But your similarity to Lynn is starting to become more and more obvious. I don't want anyone else to notice. The least we can do is hide it a little longer.”

“I . . . yeah, sure, I guess,” she said dubiously, shrugging. She started toward the stairs. “Just let me run back up to the bathroom and grab some makeup. I'll put it on in the car on the way to the hospital.”

“And Alice?” he called a few seconds later.

She paused mid-stride on the stairs and looked back at him. He nodded at her wrist. “The bracelet. Take it off for now. You can wear it while you're here if you like, but not outside until things are settled. Lynn always wore it. It was her trademark.”

“Yeah. I know,” she said, pausing a beat before she raced back up the stairs.

When she came back down, he took her hand and they headed toward the garage entrance. They both halted when there was a knock on the front door.

“What the—” Dylan headed for the door, eyebrows slanted in consternation.

A tall man in his late thirties with a thin, gaunt face stood on the top step wearing coveralls.

“I'm here from Home Guard to do the maintenance on the security system,” Alice heard the man say. Dylan peered at his identification badge.

“Damn it, I forgot about this,” Dylan said. “I'm on the way out. Let me get my housekeeper. Come in.”

He flew up the staircase in search of Louise. His efficient, neat housekeeper returned with him a minute later.

“Were both Louise and Marie in the house while we were in the den?” Alice asked once they were on the road to the hospital a few minutes later. She'd been so
loud
while they were making love, she realized uncomfortably.

Dylan gave her a brief, amused glance, clearly guessing the origin of her concern.

“I sent Marie home early. Louise was there, but she's working on a special project for me up on the fourth floor. She was far enough out of hearing range. Even for
you
.”

Alice snorted in embarrassed laughter. It was nice, to laugh a little before the stressful appointment.

“Aren't you worried about someone seeing us together at the hospital?” she asked Dylan after he'd parked the sedan and they were hastily walking to the main entrance of Morgantown Memorial.

“A little,” he admitted, holding the door open for her. “But not enough not to bring you myself.”

She gave him a grateful glance. He noticed, his mouth tilting into a small smile.

“Once we get to the waiting area, I'll let you check in. I'll wander around in the vicinity, but I won't be far off. That should minimize the chances of being seen.”

The blood test itself was pretty anticlimactic, given the buildup of her anxieties about it. She'd assumed she'd be meeting Lynn and Alan Durand's personal physician during the blood draw, Dr. Shineburg. The doctor must know something about Alice and Addie Durand, because Dylan had asked him to confirm she was their biological child using Alice's blood sample and the Durand's remaining genetic material. Instead of a physician being there, however, she was greeted by a friendly young female phlebotomist.
She explained to Alice that Dr. Shineburg had been called for an emergency. As a result, the blood draw itself felt like more of a technical matter than the emotional one she was both anticipating and dreading.

After the procedure was complete, Alice walked down the hallway in the direction of the waiting room clutching a patient informational pamphlet from a laboratory called GenCorp in Chicago, which would perform the genetic comparison analysis and provide her with results. According to what she'd briefly read as the phlebotomist had taken blood, she'd have the results in four to six weeks, but they were going to try to put a rush on it.

Where will I be when I get the results?

The question slammed into her like a fist to the head.

“Miss? Are you all right?”

Alice blinked, rising out of a daze. She realized she was standing still next to a parked wheelchair and a middle-aged nurse was watching her with a part-curious, part-concerned expression on her face.

“I . . . yeah, I'm fine,” Alice said hollowly. “I felt a little dizzy there for a second.”

“Did you just give blood?” the nurse asked kindly.

“Yeah.”

The nurse nodded. “Why don't you go on back to the phlebotomist station and sit down. They have juice and cookies there.”

“No,” Alice said, smiling stiffly. “I'm fine. Thanks.”

She started down the hallway again. It hadn't been the blood draw that had made her dizzy. It was the fact that Camp Durand finished in a week's time, and she had no idea what the hell she was going to do with her life after it was over.

What if I'm not selected as a Durand manager? Should I go back to Maggie's and start looking for another job? That was the original plan. But I can't act like Addie Durand never existed, especially once I get the official testing results. What if I
am
selected
as a manager
?
Wetting my feet as a Durand junior executive would be a good way to find my way in the company. In my life. But what if the position offered to me wasn't in Morgantown?

What about Dylan?

What if Dylan was wrong, and I'm not actually Alan and Lynn Durand's child?

Where the hell do I belong?

She continued her walk to the waiting room on rubbery legs, these questions and more crashing and colliding in her head, leaving her in a cloud of blank, numbing anxiety.

The waiting room was nearly empty except for an older man reading a newspaper. She glimpsed Dylan's singular form in the far hallway. He was standing next to a bulletin board and talking to someone in hushed tones. Should she just sit down, and wait for his acquaintance to leave? she wondered nervously. She and Dylan weren't supposed to making their connection public.

But then Dylan glanced around and saw her. He beckoned.

“Sidney, hello,” Alice said a second later when she rounded the corner and saw whom Dylan had been talking to. She took his extended hand and Sidney leaned down to briefly kiss her cheek. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to admit a patient, unfortunately, and I was on my way out when I saw Dylan.” He blinked and sobered. “Are you all right, Alice?”

“Yeah, I'm great,” she said too brightly and emphatically. Hearing the psychiatrist mention having to admit one of his patients into the hospital had pricked a nerve. Not that Alice really considered herself psych ward material. Still, she was keen to prove to the two men—and herself—that she was perfectly fine. “Did Dylan mention why we were here?” she asked, quieting her voice.

“Yes,” Sidney said. “Are you all set, then?”

Alice held up the pamphlet and put on her game face. “Yes. All that's left to do is wait for official results.”

Sidney gave her a wry smile. “That's only step one. Working through what step one really means to you is going to be the hard part. If only it
were
as simple as giving blood and getting an answer.”

“True,” Alice conceded. She glanced at Dylan uncertainly. “Did . . . did you tell him about what I remembered?” she asked softly.

“I did. I hope that's all right,” Dylan said.

“It's okay,” Alice assured.

“It sounds as if the memory of Lynn moved you very deeply,” Sidney said quietly.

Tears sprang into her eyes, surprising her. Something about Sidney's kind, compassionate gray eyes that had done it. God, she was turning into a wreck. “It was,” she managed, her stiff smile quivering. “It was incredible.”

“Alice—”

“I think I'll just run to the ladies' room before we go?” she said in an unnaturally high-pitched voice, looking down the hallway and interrupting Dylan.

Dylan looked like he was about to halt her.

“There's one right there,” Sidney said, pointing to a door twenty feet down the hall.

“Thanks. Right back,” she said with a smile that was completely at odds with her brimming eyes.

*   *   *

“YOU
have to tell her, Dylan,” Sidney said quietly when the bathroom door shut behind Alice.

Dylan frowned. “You just saw her. She's not ready for it. She likes to act like everything is fine, but she's more fragile than she wants to admit.”

“I'm not so sure anymore. She's not fragile by nature. Her defenses have been compromised due to all the psychological and
emotional stress. But that doesn't mean she won't be able to take it, eventually. She has to be told sometime.”

“If she was ready to know, she'd ask. That's what you've been preaching all along,” Dylan hissed. He glanced around warily, making sure no one was around. He and Sidney had had this conversation several times in the past few days, and it was getting more and more trying each time. “The truth about Sissy and her uncles came to her once she was ready . . . once she had that memory of Lynn to cling to. Now you expect me to taint
that
memory for her as well?”

“It's not a matter of
you
doing anything harmful to her. These are facts. It's her history. She deserves to know. Events are going to start unfolding now; things that neither you nor Alice can control. Better the truth comes from you than from a stranger.”

He made a frustrated sound. Sidney was right, and yet—

“You weren't there,” Dylan said edgily. “You don't know what it was like, telling her that the woman whom she considered her mother was a knowing accomplice to her kidnapping.”

“No, but I can imagine how difficult it was for you,” Sidney replied. “Neither of us thought any of this process was going to be easy, and yet here we are, getting through a step at a time, right along with Alice.”

“What I'm experiencing is nothing compared to what it must be like for her,” Dylan said grimly. His gaze sharpened on his old friend. “And since when are you such an advocate for aggressive action when it comes to this topic? Since when did you stop advising caution when it comes to exposing her past to her, or subtle nudging at worst.”

“Since I met her,” Sidney said without pause. “She's quite unique, and very strong in her own way. The news from the camp is that she continues to excel and demonstrate unique leadership ability. This despite what we know about all she's endured this week.”

Dylan grimaced, partially mollified but not convinced. “What
have you heard about Kehoe's temperature when it comes to hiring her—not that it makes an ounce of difference in the end,” he added.

“She's a top runner for a position, although I get the impression Kehoe is looking for any excuse to push her down lower on the list.”

Dylan shook his head. “I wish I got him. He's always performed at the highest level, for Alan and for us, but he's . . .”

“Got his own agenda. And he's not an easy man to warm up to,” Sidney finished for him. “I remember Alan was ambivalent about Kehoe, but his work was always top notch. It was Lynn who admired what he'd done with the camp so much. You know the camp was always her baby. She and Kehoe collaborated on it a great deal to make it what it is today: a valuable program that demonstrates every aspect of Durand's philosophy while seamlessly benefitting children at the same time. I think if it weren't for Lynn valuing Kehoe so much, Alan might have shifted Kehoe to some foreign office years back.”

“I didn't know Alan wasn't particularly fond of him,” Dylan said.
Or that Lynn
was. The sound of the hand dryer going on in the bathroom down the hall distracted him. He turned toward the door.

“She's shaken some by having the testing done today, Dylan,” Sidney said quietly. “It hasn't defeated her, though. I'm beginning to wonder what would. You're going to have to tell her how Lynn died eventually.”

He pressed his mouth together, unwilling to promise the psychiatrist anything yet. Alice was his sole guide in this, not Sidney.

*   *   *

“DID
you plan ahead for us to ride at Riley Stables this evening?” Alice asked him in amazement ten minutes later. They were flying down the rural route that followed the Lake Michigan shoreline, Dylan at the wheel. He'd just told her they were going to ride and then have dinner.