Mackinnons #02 For All the Right Reasons (32 page)

Katherine didn’t feel it was her mind that needed easing.

“Would you like me to hold you?”

The violent nodding of her head thumped against his chin. He smiled and eased her more fully against him. “Better?”

“Ever so much better,” she said with a slow sigh. Her voice sounded lazy and relaxed, as if in a near-slumber, but there was nothing lazy or relaxed going on inside her—and nothing, absolutely nothing was anywhere near a slumber. To the contrary, everything was full alert, all body parts humming and churning and sizzling like a firebrand. Over and over her mind repeated the same little chant:
Alex is holding me. Alex is holding me. Oh, thrill! Oh, joy! Alex is holding me.

“What are you thinking?”

She looked up and gave him a smile whose sweetness made something melt inside him. “Nothing.”

She seemed suddenly very vulnerable to him, alone and isolated in a marriage she had traveled halfway around the world for. He felt a little better about what he had done, about taking her to wife, now that some of the shock and anger had had a chance to wear off. If one of them had to suffer heartache, better him than her. He wasn’t a man to hurt others, and even if he were, Katherine would have been the last person in the world he would have been able to wound. Even as he tried to imagine how it would go for them, what their life together would be like, the insanity of what he was trying to do, what he was trying to pull off, robbed him of the joy.

He discovered something else as well. Katherine made more of an impression on him than he thought. He could feel the warm penetrating heat of her, the moist caress of her breathing, the fresh fragrance of innocence—all of it blending together in a rich harmony that was Katherine. Without thinking, without even being conscious of it, he lowered his head and began nuzzling the soft place below her ear. He heard her breath suck in and hold, only to exit in a heated rush when his hands came up to caress her neck and shoulders, easing the tension he could feel there.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Helping you relax.”

“It won’t work,” she said. “Everything is frozen in fright.”

“Do I frighten you?”

“The old Alex doesn’t.
This
Alex does—a little.”

“I’m the same Alex I’ve always been.”

“Oh, no you’re not. You’re not the same at all. The old Alex was my friend. This new one is my…”

“Lover,” he finished for her, and turned her head up to his. “I think we can do something about that frozen fright,” he said.

“What? What are you going to do? Will it hurt? Are you going to do it now?”

“Katherine, will you shut up and kiss me?” She was trying to think of a way to answer that, short of throwing her arms around him and forcing him back on the bed, kissing him until his ears whistled, but before she got very far, he took the desire to think away. How could she when he was busy dotting her brow with tiny kisses, pressing them carefully against her closed eyes? She was about to ask him if he was finished, when his mouth pressed over hers with the faintest pressure. The hands holding her back rubbed back and forth with such lazy, sensual ease that she thought he must have done a great deal of this sort of thing. Strangely enough, that thought pleased her.

“I’m glad you’ve made love to other women,” she said matter of factly, and obviously without thinking, for the moment the words were out, she buried her head against his chest in mortification.

His laughter hammered against her sensitive nerves like a pelting of arrows. “Now,
that
is something I never expected to hear my wife say. Would it be asking too much to ask you why?”

I would rather not say
, she thought hastily. She remained silent, hoping he would think she had dozed off.

“Katherine?” He nudged her. “You’ve got my curiosity aroused.”
As well as a few other things.
“You might as well put my mind at ease. Tell me why?”

“Because I think it’s of prime importance that
one
of us knows what they’re about, and you don’t exactly learn that sort of thing in books. Do you?”

“No, it’s not the sort of thing one would find in most books.”

“Most books? You mean it’s in some?”

“So I’ve heard.” He paused, gazing down into her upturned face, mesmerized by those huge, luminous eyes of hers, and he felt another little part of him open to her. Looking into her eyes was like looking through glass, for there was nothing there that troubled him, that made him wonder about her. She was as pure and innocent as they came, and it showed in the clarity of her eyes. He had a feeling her heart was just as pure. “Do you know,” he murmured softly, “that a look like that can seduce a man? What an enchanting creature you are.”

“Oh Alex, I think you are the most beautiful man I’ve ever known, inside and out. I’ve loved you for so long, I can’t imagine what it would be like not to.”

His mouth closed over hers in a kiss that went longer, deeper, and was more urgent than the first one. His breath came rapidly, mingling with hers, and his mouth opened fuller, encouraging hers to follow. She did, feeling his hands press her closer. This man was so dear to her, the joy of it sang in the brightest of notes, humming and singing through her blood until her skin tingled from the effect of it.

It was much the same for Alex. Desire for her came in a swift, heated surge, racking his body with jolt after jolt until he knew he would either have to stop now, or take her.

Alex drew back, staring down into the liquid, drugged eyes, unable to believe he had come as close to making love to her as he had.

Love-smitten and dizzy with the intensity of her love, Katherine felt his heart hammering beneath her hands that were splayed across his chest. Her eyes rested on that soft, sensual mouth of his, amazed that it had drawn as much feeling and response from her. Slowly her eyes made their way upward, until she was looking into a pair of deep blue ones. It didn’t take an experienced woman to know Alex desired her, that he wanted to make love to her, but she didn’t want it this way. She wasn’t so foolish as to think he had forgotten her sister completely. Alex was a man, a normal man. He could make love to her or any woman right now, and never think anything more about it. But that wasn’t what Katherine wanted. When Alex made love to her—and he would—it would be for all the right reasons.

“I think I’ll have that drink now,” she said shakily.

“Make that two,” Alex said, holding up two fingers. They both laughed. It was the break they needed.

Alex was every bit as shaky as Katherine, a fact she noted proudly as he reached for the bottle. “A good, stiff drink before bed is a great relaxer.”

Katherine leaned lazily back. “Funny you mentioned that word. I was just thinking how I’ve never felt so relaxed in my life. Must be something soothing about the sea. Why, I’m so relaxed, I’m limp as noodles. I don’t think I can move.”

“Ahhh! Then a drink is what you need. Quite fortifying, a drink is.” He pulled the cork and poured the two glasses full, picking up one of them and taking a healthy gulp. “Yes-sir, I always say a man should have a good, stiff drink. There’s nothing like it to erect his fortifications.”

“
Erect his what?
” she asked, shooting straight up. Her voice a little higher and more shaky, she said, “Never mind.” Then she frowned, “Alex, are we talking about the same thing here?”

“God, I hope so,” he said, and began to laugh, feeling the impulse to go to her and take her in his arms and hold her against him once again. But then the memory of a time long past began to crystallize in his mind and he remembered the night he had told her goodbye, the night he kissed her in the kitchen.

He had never really forgotten that kiss, but somehow over the passing of time it had blended in with the memory of Karin. How could the memory of the woman he loved become confused with one he liked only as a friend? But he hadn’t kissed her as a friend that night before he left, and the way she kissed him back wasn’t exactly the kiss of a friend either. The corners of his mouth lifted as he remembered how he’d gotten his face slapped for the effort, but there wasn’t anything humorous in remembering how he had thought for months afterward that it had been worth every painful moment of it. He dismissed the thought and the memory from his mind, but then he looked at her, his eyes going to her perfectly shaped mouth and he found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss her now.

And then he was putting the drink down and coming to stand beside her, his hands on her shoulders. She looked up into his face, her eyes wide as it came closer, then closing when his lips lightly brushed hers. He drew back, gazing into her upturned face, feeling desire sting with fresh insistence.
You’re building a fire on thin ice, man. You kissed her once, a long time ago, and got your face slapped for the mockery of it because she knew you didn’t love her. You still don’t. So, don’t mock her again by making love to her now.

“I’m sorry, Katherine. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m not trying to force you.”

She looked at him, her eyes opened wide, the sound of her long indrawn breath touching him like a soft stroke. “What made you think I thought you were?” she asked.

His face took on a sleepy, dazed look. “I’m not sure. I had a reason a moment ago.”

She felt the heat of the moment reach out and touch her, spreading, softening, pricking her numbed senses. In all ways he touched her, overwhelmed her, and left her disturbed. She wasn’t sure what she would do and the insanity of it left her open, vulnerable, and completely irresistible. She looked into his eyes and gave him a smile, not a smile meant to seduce, or to placate, but one so genuine that it shot straight through him.

He saw how alone she was, isolated in her confusion, not knowing what was in his mind. And how could she? He did not know himself. He had no awareness, save the feeling that he was experiencing the same ease and sense of satisfaction he had always felt around her, warming and filling, like an aged wine one has drunk before. She must have felt it too, for suddenly she leaned her head forward, resting her forehead against his chest and asked in a breathless way, “Alex, what would you have done if I had asked you to kiss me again?”

“I would have kissed you, and kept on kissing you until you asked me to stop.”

“Then kiss me, Alex. Please.”

With a low, anguished groan, he tipped her head back and pressed his mouth over hers. She had thought herself ready, but she was unprepared for the softness of his lips or for the depth of feeling that swept to the center of her. His lips touched the curve of one cheek, then the other. They were on her throat now, touching everywhere, blindly and without direction, leaving a trail of fire. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt herself slipping into another world where nothing was anchored and all she could do was float.

His breathing was more rapid now, as was hers, the two of them mingling as his mouth searched for hers, finding it with a groan as his arms came around her, moving her to fit so perfectly against him until she felt herself floating again and clutched him to keep from drifting away.

“Katherine,” he whispered, kissing her mouth again and again, slow and deliberate this time. And then it was over.

He pulled back, pushing her away at the same time, his breathing ragged, his expression confused. He looked at her, seeing the bewildered look and knowing it was as impossible for her to put her feelings into words as it was for him. He hadn’t planned for things to go this far and the only explanation he could find was that for a moment he had forgotten who she was, the real woman replaced with the overlay of the one in his mind. But as he made his apology once again and moved away, opening the door and closing it behind him, he couldn’t understand why the memory of Karin came to him so sharp and vivid and familiar, yet when he reached for it to draw it closer, it wasn’t Karin’s face he saw, but that of her sister Katherine.

Chapter Fifteen

The times Katherine spent on deck were few, as most of their journey was a time of wailing winds and overcast skies, when the mists lay low and the sun was rarely seen. She spent most of her time in her cabin reading, which must have been quite a bit, since she had time to finish Wordsworth and Boswell’s
Life of Samuel Johnson
.

All in all, the trip had been a stormy one, the weather going from cloudy to rain and back to cloudy. The clouds had given way to rain again the day they were to reach Humboldt Bay and after that the logging outpost Alex, Adrian, and now Katherine would call home. Alex had spent most of the morning with her, walking her around the deck for exercise, answering her questions about the new life that awaited her. They had lunch with Captain Steptoe and Adrian. Shortly after lunch, he vanished. She hadn’t seen him since. It seemed as though he had disappeared altogether.
From a ship in the middle of the ocean?
She felt like she had married a ghost.

This type of reflection was a big part of her afternoon, whether from lack of anything better to do or due to the scarcity of appearances from her husband, she wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was both. Her past lay behind her now, like a discarded ribbon, shiny in places, wrinkled in others, stretching straight, then curved, and as she looked back upon it, she saw the memory of it growing thinner and thinner, as if she were staring down a road to the horizon.

Thinking about the past can play odd tricks upon the fancy, and Katherine found herself wondering what she would be doing at this moment had the letter from Alex never arrived. She found herself stretched out upon her narrow bunk in a tranquil stupor as the rain battered and lashed at the sea, and the sea, in its anger to get even, thrashed and pounded back at the small ship. How like life it was, that the innocent are often the victim of another’s wrong.

She knew there was never any returning to the past, no matter how close it was to her. But reasoning did not prevent the same thoughts from stirring again, awakening that sense of dread, of something not being quite right. And then she would think of the letter and the question that came often.
Why me and not Karin?