Reckless Moon (13 page)

He started to shake, and it was several seconds before she realized that he was laughing.

“What is it?” she asked, bewildered.

“You can make all the sounds you want, mouse. I’m looking forward to hearing them.”

She sighed with relief. “Then it’s okay?”

“It’s perfect. You are perfect.” He settled her back into the pillows and brushed her damp hair back from her face. “It may hurt again. I’ll do my best to go easy.”

“I don’t want you to go easy,” she whispered fiercely, pulling him down on top of her. “I want you to take me, fill me, burn me up.” She wound her legs around him, digging her heels into his thighs.

Aroused beyond control, Bram took her at her word.

And in the early hours of the fall morning, as the thin dawn light filled the valley, Beth had her desire.

* * *

“Are you all right?” Bram murmured, drawing the sheet over both of them.

“I’m wonderful,” Beth replied drowsily.

He was silent for a moment, and then said, “Can I ask you a question?”

She snuggled into his chest and planted a kiss on his collarbone. “You, Mr. Curtis, can ask me anything.”

“Why didn’t you ever sleep with another man?” he asked.

“No one ever made me feel the way you had, that night we almost made love. I came close a few times, when men pressed me, but I never could go through with it. I always remembered how it was with you, and nothing else could compare.”

Bram went very quiet, his body so still he seemed asleep. But Beth could tell by the quality of his breathing that he was still awake.

She sat up, trying to see his face. “What is it? Did I say something wrong?”

He didn’t answer, merely pushed her back down into the cocoon of his body. “Shh,” he said. “Go to sleep.”

Beth settled against him, taking care not to disturb his injured arm. She ran a seeking hand over his heavily muscled abdomen. “Where’s the scar from the brawl in Portugal?” she asked.

He took her hand and placed it on his thigh, where she could just feel the thickened ridge of tissue, obscured by the dense mat of black hair. “Right there.”

“And what’s this?” she asked, touching an uneven mass of flesh on his ribs.

“That’s from a burn I got when a boiler exploded,” he explained. “The chemical ate right through my shirt.”

“I can see I was missing a lot by spending all my time in school,” Beth commented.

“You didn’t miss anything by skipping those incidents,” Bram said quietly, stroking her hair. “They weren’t much fun.”

“But you’ve lived life, gone places, seen things. All I’ve done is accumulate degrees and file court papers.”

He chuckled. “Nothing else?”

She smiled. “I did something else just now with you.”

Bram tucked a wisp of her hair behind her ear and asked again, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Of course. What are you worried about? Do you think I’m going to disintegrate?” She tilted her head back and peered at him in the pale sunlight filtering through the window. “Am I the first…beginner…you’ve ever been with?”

He didn’t answer.

“I am,” she said triumphantly. “I knew it!”

He smiled at her victorious tone. “I made it a practice to avoid them after your father threw me out of his house.”

That wasn’t the reason, Beth thought. He’d only wanted to sleep with women who wouldn’t demand, or even expect, involvement. That is, until now.

She reached up and touched his face, drawing her fingers through the thicket of his beard. “You’re not such a tough guy after all, do you know that?”

His lips twisted. “I thought I told you to go to sleep.”

Beth kissed the base of his throat. “I’m not tired.”

He ran his hands under the sheet, seeking her body. “No?”

“No,” she confirmed, putting her head back submissively as he bent to kiss her.

And she showed him that she wasn’t.

* * *

When Beth woke hours later the lush sunlight of midday was cascading across the bed, and Sunday quiet filled the house. She sat up, confused, and then remembered. She looked around for Bram and saw him sitting in a chair beside the window, wearing only his pants.

She got up and found a robe in her closet, slipping into it. She went to him and knelt next to the chair, putting her arms around his waist.

“Good morning,” she said. “Or should I say, good afternoon?”

He said nothing, his hand going to the back of her head, his fingers moving slowly through the heavy mass of her hair.

“Would you like something to eat?” Beth asked. “I have eggs, toast, and coffee.”

He gently put her hands away and stood up. “No, thanks. I think I’d better be going.”

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble.”

He turned to look at her, and Beth felt a sinking sensation in her stomach at the expression on his face. “Bethany, we have to talk.”

“Talk away,” Beth said blithely, trying for lightness.

He sighed. “I don’t know how to say this.”

“Just say it straight out,” Beth answered evenly. “That’s usually best.”

“I don’t think you should attach too much importance to last night,” he said, looking away from her.

“Too much importance?” Beth repeated dumbly.

“Yes,” he said. “I was still a little drunk, and feeling low, and grateful that you helped me out, and you were...

“In love with you,” Beth stated flatly.

He tensed. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s true.”

“Beth, you don’t have enough experience to make a judgment You can have fine, satisfying sex with any number of men. Just because we were good partners doesn’t mean we’re in love.”

“You can rationalize it any way you want, Bram. I love you, or I wouldn’t have gone to bed with you, and you know it. Don’t you love me?”

“I don’t love anybody,” he said flatly.

Beth stared at him, surprised at her own calm. On some level she must have known this was coming or she wouldn’t be able to handle it so well.

“I don’t believe you,” she said evenly. “You couldn’t have made love to me the way you did if you felt nothing. You’re talking yourself out of it because you’re afraid.”

“Afraid?” he said, his eyes becoming hard.

“Yes, afraid. Afraid to give yourself, afraid to become entangled with a woman who might trick you. You were afraid of me when I was a teenager, and you’re afraid of me now.”

He blinked and turned his head.

I’m right, Beth thought. I know him, and I’m right. Bram was not a liar; he wouldn’t deny the accuracy of her perceptions, but rather take refuge in silence.

Beth moved forward, seizing her advantage. “I think you love me, Bram. I think you always have. You just refuse to admit it, even to yourself, because you think it will make you weak and dependent like your father.”

He looked back at her. “I thought your degree was in law, not psychiatry.”

“I don’t need a degree to figure you out, darling. To me, you’re as transparent as glass. You explained yourself last night in the car.”

He eyed her intently for a moment, and then dropped his eyes. “Believe what you want.”

“I will.”

He looked around uncomfortably. “Do you have something I could wear back to the house? My shirt is in rags.”

Without a word Beth went to Marion’s room and got a shirt of Jerry’s that was hanging in the closet. She returned and handed it to Bram.

He put it on, rolling up the sleeves, which were too short.

“I’ll drive you home,” she said.

“I can walk,” he replied shortly, heading for the door. He turned on the threshold and said, “You’ll still go on representing Curtis Broadleaf?”

“Of course,” Beth said smoothly.

He nodded, studying her once more, looking as if he were about to say something. Then he thought better of it, opened the door, and left.

Beth walked to the window, which looked out over the lawn, and waited for Bram to pass on the street. When his tall, broad shouldered figure came into view, she watched him, his long stride, the erect carriage of his back and head. When he was out of sight she sat in the chair he had occupied minutes before and thought about what to do.

He wouldn’t pursue her any more; she was sure of that. He had accomplished his goal of getting her into bed, but he didn’t like the emotions the experience had aroused in him.

Beth tapped her index finger on the upholstered arm of the chair.

But she wasn’t giving up on him. Not by a long shot.

CHAPTER 7

Monday was very busy for Beth, and she had to put the subject of Bram on the back burner until dinnertime. She had spent the morning in a hearing on a custody case referred to her by Hal’s cousin, and the afternoon doing research on a torts problem involving a company one of her clients wanted to sue. By the time her phone rang at five-thirty she was hungry and tired, but satisfied with the work she’d done.

“Attorney Forsyth,” she announced crisply.

“Hi, Attorney Forsyth. This is Mother Crawford-Harris. What’s new?”

“Mindy,” Beth said, half laughing. “If you call me on this line you have to expect to get the full treatment.”

“Hey, I was impressed. You sounded very professional.”

“I’m not feeling very professional at the moment. My stomach is growling.”

“Feed it.”

“I intend to.”

“And once you do, expect a visit from yours truly this evening. Hal has a zoning meeting and I am hiring a babysitter and fleeing the nest.”

“Bad day?”

“You might say so. The baby screamed for four hours and your godchild fed the dinner hamburger to the dog.”

“Oh, dear. Well, I’m glad you’ll be coming over tonight. I have something to discuss with you.”

“Oh, oh. Sounds ominous. Can you give me a hint?”

“Um, let’s see. There was a reckless moon out Saturday night.”

“I see. That’s a big help. Care to elaborate?”

“A reckless moon releases your inhibitions, makes you give vent to your feelings.”

“Gotcha. We’re talking about Bram Curtis. Sweetie, I can’t wait to hear the details, but right now I have to go because Tracy is trying to climb into the sink. See you about seven. Bye.”

“Bye.” Beth hung up and stretched, trying to remember what was in the refrigerator. She recalled leftover pot roast and a pound of apples. Neither prospect held much appeal. She smiled as she rose to go to the kitchen. Bram’s ears would be burning tonight.

* * *

Mindy arrived bearing a half gallon of ice cream. She headed directly for the kitchen.

“I thought you were on a diet,” Beth said.

“I am. Why do you think I brought it over here to eat? Hal watches me like a Doberman on patrol.”

“I shouldn’t contribute to your delinquency,” Beth said, going to the cupboard for dishes. “What about your self-control?”

“I have no self-control. Give me the bowls.”

Beth deposited the crockery on the table and went to a drawer for spoons.

“So what’s up with Bram?” Mindy asked, taking a spoon from Beth and digging into the fudge ripple.

“He spent the night here Saturday.”

Mindy paused in mid scoop. After a moment she said, “Should I be happy about that, or what?”

“Wait until you hear the rest of it. On Sunday he announced that I shouldn’t ‘attach too much importance’ to what had happened; we were just good bed partners, nothing more.”

Mindy licked a streak of fudge from her spoon. “Beth, don’t take this the wrong way, but surely you don’t think you’re the first woman who’s heard that on the morning after.”

“No, I don’t. But if you could have seen the way he acted, Mindy, you’d know that this was different.”

“How?”

“He’s running. He’s running because he’s in love with me and he doesn’t know how to handle it.”

Mindy stared at her. “Wow. Nothing wrong with your ego, is there?”

“I’m certain I know what I’m talking about.”

Mindy rolled her eyes. “He’s a ladykiller, Beth.”

Beth slapped her cheek in mock surprise. “No!”

Mindy shot the carton of ice cream across the table to Beth. It flew across the Formica like a puck on ice. Beth stopped it with her hand.

“He’s used to one night stands,” Mindy persisted. “You could get hurt if you insist on making it something more in your mind.”

“It
is
more. Mindy, you’ve known him a long time; have you ever seen him pursue anyone the way he pursued me?”

“No,” Mindy admitted. “But that may have been the lure of the unattainable. You gave him more trouble than usual, that’s all.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“I’m trying to be frank with you. I wouldn’t be doing you a favor if I told you fairy tales.” Mindy watched as Beth helped herself to some ice cream. “What are you going to do now?”