Love Songs (21 page)

Alanna was stunned anew by her confession. Struggling to assimilate its implications—for she did accept it as a fact—she buried her face against the warm solace of his neck, breathing in the manly tang that had so tantalized her in memory last night. Sensing her need for a moment’s respite, Alex held her close. He felt neither a sense of triumph nor a desire to gloat at her long-awaited admission, simply the pleasure of knowing that his sentiment was finally returned.

A strange shyness rendered her voice tremulous when finally she spoke. “How did those meetings go last night?” she asked, intentionally glossing over her heart-reaching discovery of moments earlier. Alex, however, would not.

“That’s a fine question to ask on the heels of such an earth-shattering declaration!” he chided, snugly fitting his long arm around her back, stretching his lean fingers to hold the gentle swell of her breast.

Tilting her blond head back, she met his gaze. “I’ve surprised myself with all this, Alex. Give me time to take it all in, OK?”

Her beseeching gaze convinced him. “OK, love.” He smiled indulgently, feeling infinitely patient as he proceeded to fill her in on the meetings that had kept him from her yesterday. His bid had been successful; everything had worked out to his satisfaction. As soon as he could he shifted the conversation back to her.

Alanna would never know whether he had read that deep-hidden source of tension of which she, herself, was barely aware. But his question immediately brought it out. With Wednesday morning so close on the horizon there was Jake’s board meeting to contend with.

“What’s up at work this week?” Alex asked. “Any news on whether you’ll be offered that opening?”

“Funny you should ask,” she murmured against his chest, a noted absence of humor in her tone. “The board is meeting tomorrow morning. Jake plans to make the proposal then.”

“It’s definite?” His eyes lit up with an enthusiasm she wouldn’t have expected. Most men would have been instantly wary of such a move by a woman. Not Alex. Perhaps that was one of the things she loved about him.…

Her headshake was half in response to that last thought as well as to Alex’s prodding. “Not definite—until they vote. But if Jake proposes it, it’s as good as done.”

“Congratulations, love! I’m proud of you!” His lips touched her brow with their warmth; she felt as though she had received his blessing. Yet the matter was far from decided.

“Whoa! I’m not sure I’ll accept the position even if it
is
offered to me!”

Alex looked at her as though she had suddenly become possessed by lunacy. “That’s ridiculous! Whyever not?”

“Because,” she answered firmly, “I can get just as much done from right where I am.”

Alex drove to the heart of the matter. “It’s the gossip that’s discouraging you, isn’t it?”

Her first impulse was to deny the allegation; then she admitted its truth to herself. It was the strength of her newfound love, and the faith it gave her, that enabled her to admit it to Alex. “I suppose so.” Resting her chin on her hands, which in turn were resting on his chest, she drank in his self-assuredness. “It’s not worth the fight.”

What had been a softly spoken statement inspired one that was much more forceful. “Not worth it? Alanna, you’ve spent the past ten years waiting—knowingly or not—for just this type of advancement. You’re a fighter. If you have to you’ll show them all!” His voice lowered. “Besides, once we’re married—”

“I haven’t agreed to marry you.” Alanna’s quiet voice stopped him cold. He looked at her in amazement.

“But you’ve just admitted that you love me. What more is needed?”

“What’s needed,” she took a deep breath, “is for me to be able to feel comfortable with the idea of marriage … and everything it entails.”

For a long time Alex was quiet. His eyes studied her closely, then shifted to contemplate each strand of loose blond silk that had fallen free of its bonds in the frenzy of their lovemaking. His hands were still, though, and for the first time Alanna sensed a limit to his patience. His words confirmed as much.

“I can’t wait forever, Alanna. You’ve dangled the carrot before my nose by just being you. Now, by saying you love me, you’ve brought it that much closer. I’m not made of stone.” His tone was sober. “How long do you think you can toy with my emotions?”

She slid back against the sheets to look at the ceiling. Perhaps he was right. If she wasn’t ready for total commitment was it fair to keep him in midair?

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, turning on her side to face away from him, not quite mustering the will to leave the bed. “I don’t mean to toy with you, Alex. It’s just that … I didn’t plan on this happening.”

“Damn it!” he exploded, drawing her back to face him. “That’s your problem—or one of them. In your work you can plan everything out to perfection. That’s what makes you as efficient as you are. But in the world of human relationships you can’t plot out a beginning and an end. You can’t outline what’s going to happen. You can’t plot the whole thing out, then follow your plan to the letter. It just doesn’t work that way!”

Alanna saw frustration in the depths of his charcoal gaze. She saw the faint lines of tension by the corners of his mouth. And she wanted desperately, desperately to give in. How simple it would be to agree to marry him! But the thought of marriage and a family sent tremors of apprehension through her. Until those tremors ceased she couldn’t, in good faith, accept his proposal.

Sitting up on the bed, oblivious to her own nakedness, she faced him. The soft light from the dresser cast a golden glow on her hair, her shoulders, the gentle fullness of her breasts. It was a picture of innocent supplication she made as she began to talk quietly.

“I feel confused about so many things. What you’ve said is right. But it’s difficult to change one’s way of thinking overnight.” She averted her eyes. “I never thought I’d say I loved you, but I have. Doesn’t that give you hope?” A crooked smiled played at her lips.

Alex sat up to join her. “Hope can only take me so far. I want you for my wife. I won’t rest until you’re mine.” There was a grim set to his lips that vouched for his determination. For an instant Alanna also wondered whether there was a touch of insecurity in this man who presented the image of strength and confidence at all times to the world. Was he afraid of
losing
her? Was that what was, in truth, behind his demand for marriage? Even as the thought of his possessiveness pleased her, she seized upon his words for diversion.

“So that’s it, Alex Knight! You’re using me!”

His ruggedly etched features formed a full-blown frown. “What on earth are you talking about?” he growled, his unusual lack of perception adding evidence of his vulnerability where Alanna was concerned. Her grin grew more mischievous.

“You can’t
sleep
without me! Come on … confess! Did you sleep well last night?”

“Of course not!” The hint of a smile softened the straight line of his lips. “Did you?” he made his counteraccusation.

Her laugh was light and brief. “I certainly did,” she looked toward the ceiling in recollection, “from roughly midnight till three, then from perhaps five till seven.” When her gaze dropped to meet Alex’s once more her humor had returned. “But, no, I didn’t sleep through the night as I do with you,” she confessed softly, meaningfully.

With a low groan Alex took her in his arms and hugged her tightly. “You will tonight, love. I promise you that!”

She did, as did he. By unspoken consent, they shelved all serious discussion in favor of an evening in bed talking of lighter things. Alex told Alanna of his childhood, of climbing Mt. Washington, of canoeing through the lakes of upstate Minnesota, of sailing on the Atlantic off the coast of Cape Cod. He talked of his college years, of receiving his master’s degree, of joining the family business and having to fight for the respect of the men below him. He spoke of his brother and sisters, of his nieces and nephews, never once directly referring to the children of his own that he hoped to have one day.

In return for the wealth of information he freely offered Alanna related more of her own story, a less exciting one in her mind, but one by which Alex seemed fascinated. He encouraged her to talk of her parents, of the occasional good times they had had despite the legacy of bitterness which she had inherited. He coaxed her into telling him of her days at school, her friends, even her bouts of puppy love. And he drew from her a vivid picture of her life as a working woman and the pattern it had fallen into over the years. All the while he held her propped against him, his arms about her, her head against his shoulder.

When the intimacy of the interchange yielded to something more erotic Alanna grew aware once more of the love she felt for Alex. It was this love that emboldened her in her initial response to the masterful male hands that scorched her body. For the first time she was unafraid to face the extent of the arousal which only Alex could evoke in her. She felt free to exert herself as a woman, as a creature of passion. If there was a challenge now it was within her; she had to convince herself of the strength of her love by expressing it in Alex’s arms.

The frenzied passion of earlier that evening had taken the edge off the awesome physical need they had for each other. This slow, more studied lovemaking was an exploration into depths they had skimmed but never probed. Soft words of love accompanied the gentle movements of arms and legs, lips and tongues. The heady wine of love drugged them, prolonging the moment of union with languorous strokings and tender caresses.

With his hands tracing the curves of her sides and hips Alanna found herself above Alex. Looking down at him she caught the golden highlights, cast by the lamp, which burnished the rich brown of his hair. Was he angel or devil, to have such magnificent power over her?

It didn’t matter. For she gloried in that power, absorbing it in every cell of her being, then exerting it over him in turn. It was this last which astounded her even more, the strength of the force her woman’s body could wield over the sturdy, muscled mass of masculinity which now held her weight.

With the grace of a swan she arched toward him. Her breasts touched his broad, hair-roughened chest, teasing electrically as her lips brushed his. The tip of her tongue circled his mouth, then ventured within its moist bounds when he moaned his pleasure. It was as though time itself had slowed to half speed. Haste was nonexistent. There was only the exquisite savoring of a physical arousal that warmed and heated and reached the near-boiling point in a drawn-out eternity of luscious touching and feeling.

When at last Alex groaned his urgent need, then echoed it with the strength of the hands that lifted her, Alanna was just as eager, taking him to her in a moment of mind-sweeping joy.

“I love you,” she whispered between deep kisses.

“You’ve got me,” he drawled as softly, letting her take the lead, seeming to revel in the strength she possessed.

Tiny beads of sweat glistened on her body as the heat of passion burst from within. She felt herself the embodiment of all that was desirable. Alex’s hands held her breasts as she arched her back in mindless delight. Her rosy nipples flamed at his touch, reacting as much to his faintly roughened fingertips as to the taut pull of the passion they shared.

Again they savored their joy with leisurely delight, their movements deliberate and thoroughly sensed. Alanna had never felt as rich, as filled with contentment, as when she held him and reveled in his virility. Adding to her happiness was the look of pure love that held Alex’s gaze enmeshed with hers. He, too, had risen above the simply physical; he, too, understood and shared this spiritual elevation.

It was only the white-hot explosion of bliss that sent them at last to the spiraling heights from which they fell slowly, reluctantly, still wrapped in each other’s arms. Alanna could no longer differentiate Alex’s thudding heart from her own, his rasping breath from hers. They were one in every sense. As one they fell into the deep, deep sleep that had been denied them when they had been apart. As one they slept, fulfilled and satisfied, through the night and into the morning of the day that Alanna had been dreading.

*   *   *

The news came shortly before noon to Alanna at her desk. Within five minutes she found herself in the board-room being introduced to the board members as the next Executive Vice-President of WallMar Enterprises. These were men whom she would come to know well in the future, as she would frequently be called to sit in on these board meetings. Some of them she knew already; others received her cordially, if guardedly. It was a reaction that would seem mild in comparison to that of some of her fellow workers.

Words were kept to a minimum, the traditional “congratulations” and “good luck”s filtering in throughout the afternoon. But the sidelong glances, the wary looks, the speculative gazes aimed her way said far more potent things. It was, once again, her usual adversary, Brian Winstead, who put it all into words.

“So it paid off, Alanna,” he taunted, not quite daring to fully enter her office, but merely propping himself up in the threshold.

Alanna knew just what was coming. Prepared, she presented her most composed veneer. “Hard work always pays off, Brian,” she replied with deliberate innocence.

But the leer Brian sent her way contained no innocence. “And it’s meant a lot of nights filled with hard work, hasn’t it? Boy, I’m really amazed; I never dreamed that Wallace had the stamina.”