Volcano (40 page)

They wore their bathing suits, but their awareness of each other was such that they might as well have been naked. True to his word, Charlie had gone slowly, never once taking advantage of the physical need pulsing between them with every touch, every gesture, every look. They'd danced in the surf, slept in the sun, hunted for shells, and adorned themselves with orchid chains, but they'd never gone near the dim coolness of the room and bed waiting for them, although the knowledge of its presence was with them every minute of the day.

An assortment of kiwi, papaya, plantains, and other exotic fruit lay half-eaten on a platter above the cotton-covered rattan mat they lay upon. The beach was in a secluded cove out of sight of the house but within easy walking distance. They should probably roll up the mat and return for dinner, but Penelope didn't want to disturb the perfection of this moment. She watched the star rising on the horizon and curled her fingers around Charlie's broad ones. His bare foot tilted to rub against hers.

“Dinner?” he suggested lazily.

“Bath first,” she decided.

“Shower?” He eased up on his elbow and gazed down at her through heavy-lidded eyes.

Her heart pumped a little faster as all that suntanned heaven of muscled shoulders and naked chest leaned within easy reach. “Jacuzzi,” she countered.

A smile teased the corner of his lips. “With champagne.”

She grimaced. “I don't like champagne.”

He grinned wider. “Gotcha. Neither do I.” His gaze dipped to the slope of her swimsuit top. “How about another swim first?”

Penelope could tell by the tone of Charlie's voice that swimming was the last thing on his mind. They'd played these word games all day, disagreeing at every turn but always finding a compromise that showed how shallow their differences actually were. He was simply letting her take the lead, because she had what he wanted. He wanted her. It was as simple as that.

Amazed that she'd never understood how easy a relationship could be, Penelope stroked the bristle of his jaw. “Naked,” she whispered naughtily.

Charlie eyed her. “We could be seen.”

“And?” she taunted, knowing that didn't bother him at all.

“In my current state, it could definitely be dangerous.” This time, the gleam in his eye was noticeable.

“That's never bothered you before,” she scoffed, trailing a finger down the sandy expanse of his chest, twirling it in a curl of dark hair.

Charlie hooked his finger in the clasp between her breasts and, with a flick, unfastened it. Penelope's breath caught as he stared at her breasts, hunger and admiration blatant in his expression. The waiting had ended, then. He wanted her, and he would do whatever she liked to have her, but this was definitely a two-way street. Desire poured like warm honey through her veins and pooled in her lower abdomen until all her muscles drew tight with expectation.

“I bother you,” he amended with a note of triumph. “Cool, elegant, untouchable Penelope, hot and bothered by a dumb jock. Admit it.”

“That you're a dumb jock?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

He stroked her erect nipple and she nearly grabbed his neck to haul him down where she could reach him, but they fought a war here, and she didn't give up easily. He had been right when he'd said they were competitive spirits. She wanted to win.

“Not so dumb, maybe,” he answered more thoughtfully than she'd expected. “I've been told it often enough to believe it. Maybe I've tried living up to my reputation. But I'm smart enough to know a good thing when I see one, and I'm smart enough to go after what I want and get it. I want you, Penelope.” He said it as a warning.

Before she could reply, he leaned over and licked the peak he'd caressed to screaming sensitivity, and she arched upward, digging her fingers into his thick hair as he wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her against him.

“If you want more time, you'd better tell me now,” Charlie whispered, brushing kisses across her temple. “Because when I come into you this time, I'm going to make you mine. I'm going to take all this heat and electricity we're generating and pump it into you until we've welded shackles around our hearts that can never be broken. Every time I take you, I'll forge another link in the chain.” His hand stroked downward, slipping beneath the elastic of her bikini bottom, pulling it over her hips so she had to wiggle out or be trapped. A sea breeze lapped at her nakedness.

Charlie's big hand covered her where she was most vulnerable, sheltering her against the breeze. “I'm a man who works with his hands, Penelope. What do you think your chances are against me?”

None, absolutely none. She should laugh at his silliness, but she knew Charlie meant every word. She should be furious at his arrogance, but she understood what drove him. She should be terrified at how swiftly she succumbed to his domination, but she knew her own power and that she could use it against him, or with him. The choice was hers. He'd opened himself entirely for her attack. His words had stripped him of shield or weapon, exposing his vulnerability, something few men dared do. And she loved him for it, loved him wholly, without question, mindlessly, insanely, hopelessly.

“I dare you,” she threw at him, having no other words to express the challenge she knew they faced.

Charlie swung his leg over her hips so she lay trapped beneath him. His weight held her pinned against the mat, his breadth blocked the stars. The powerful tendons of his arms strained to hold him back. Penelope knew his expression despite the darkness. It would be taut with expectation, his eyes hot with desire, his mouth turned slightly upward, revealing the dimple that gave away his joy. Silly man, thinking he was in control here.

“This isn't a game, Penelope,” he warned again, as if she hadn't taken him seriously enough. “This is for life. If I take you now, I'll want you again in the Jacuzzi, in the shower, in that bed waiting for us upstairs, all night, every night, from now until forever.” He pried his knee between hers and parted her legs so she lay spread-eagled beneath the stars and the palm trees.

He was talking commitment. That scared the hell out of her. She hadn't really thought about it, although she should have. She wanted it. She just didn't know if she could handle it. Panic surged through her veins, along with the hot flood of desire. “I'm a coward, Charlie,” she whispered.

He stared at her incredulously. “You? The woman who gave up her own life for her sister? The woman who risked her career for an old man she didn't even know? More people should have your kind of cowardice.” With those scoffing words, he rolled off to remove his trunks.

She had an instant's reprieve while he stripped, but his words held her spellbound. He didn't think she was a coward. Could her strength really lie deeper than her career?

She didn't have longer to think than that. The moment Charlie rolled back over her and took the tip of her breast into his mouth, she was lost. His heat surrounded her, enveloped her in a raging inferno, cast her into that volcano that had smoldered at their feet all these nights. Bathed in fire, cast in the furnace, consumed, and resurrected into something shiny and new and entirely different—

Penelope's cry mixed with the call of a night bird overhead as Charlie surged into her and the fire melded them together. From the inside out, the clay became porcelain, the iron turned to steel. Neither of them shattered in the process. Stars exploded and surf pounded at their ankles. Penelope surrendered to the tide, to the moment, to the man and the elements as their separate parts bonded into one. Waiting for that surrender, Charlie joined her with a wild cry, his big body shuddering as he flooded her with all the potential he possessed and held her while she accepted the possession.

He'd done it, then, she thought idly moments later, looking up into the tropical sky as Charlie's heavy weight pressed her into the earth. He'd forged her into a crucible for his seed, molded her body into one she didn't know, linked her heart to his so they could never be fully apart again, no matter what the future would bring.

Joy flooded through her as thoroughly as the waves washing up their legs.

***

They sat on opposite sides of the spacious Jacuzzi, wineglasses nearly empty, skin cleansed, muscles relaxed, but Penelope thought the steam rising between them had more to do with the heat they generated than with the hot water. Charlie rested his muscular arms on the pool's edge, providing her a full view of his powerful chest and shoulders, and she didn't think she could swallow another drop.

“Dinner?” she suggested cautiously.

“We can eat anytime. Are you coming over here or do I have to go over there and get you?”

The gleam in his eyes warned that dinner would wait. Just that knowledge heated her skin and tightened her lower muscles in anticipation. She didn't understand why only Charlie could turn her on like this, but now that he had, she couldn't find any way of turning herself off. Didn't want to. Still, she made no move toward him.

Charlie took care of the matter. In a single step he was beside her, lifting her from the seat and into his arms. He was already as aroused as she was. Once on the beach wasn't enough, would probably never be enough.

“We're not using protection, Charlie,” she whispered as he buried his lips against her nape and shot shivers straight down her spine.

He cupped her wet breasts and teased them tenderly. “I know.”

His mouth moved to hers, and for long moments, Penelope had no other thoughts at all. The play of his hands and tongue drove her mind out the door and she was all nerve endings begging for more.

Then he lifted his head and, in the moonlight, gazed down at her. “We've wasted enough time making money. Now it's time to do something more productive.”

She knew what he meant, had always known his intention. She'd just wanted it verified. The secret desire she'd hidden from herself slid open a long-buried door and peeked out with rising hope. “I'll not stay home barefoot and pregnant for any man,” she warned, just so he knew he wasn't in charge here.

“I'll buy you shoes,” he teased, running kisses down her throat.

How could she resist a man like this? He didn't even get angry when she argued. She spread her hands across his broad back and let him lift her high enough to suckle her breast. She gasped at the sensation shooting through her.

“I want this baby now,” Charlie informed her, sliding his finger inside to encourage her. “You can decide when we have the next one.”

The next one. He was already talking about two babies and she hadn't even adapted to the idea of marriage yet. Ever since she'd met this man she'd been spun around in a vortex of events that kept her from knowing where she stood, or if she stood at all. Penelope grabbed Charlie's shoulders as he carried her out of the pool and toward the bed.

Damn, but he hadn't been kidding when he said that if he wanted something, he went after it Suddenly, it no longer mattered if she knew where she stood or not. Charlie knew, and he'd take care of her.

Free at last, Penelope wrapped her legs around Charlie's hips as he perched her on the edge of the high bed. Arching into him, she trusted him with her future. As Charlie drove into her, Penelope rose willingly to take him, visions of making babies to love and hold together cracking the final barriers to her heart.

***

With dinner finally consumed, they lay quietly on the cool sheets, bodies touching, listening to the roar of the waves beneath their window.

“You're the first woman I've ever known who makes me feel like Superman instead of a bull in a china shop,” Charlie reflected out loud, sliding his hand over the silken skin of Penelope's thigh.

“Superman?” She propped herself on one elbow and stared down at him, her hair tumbling in a black waterfall around them.

Charlie tensed, waiting for the laughter to follow. He'd opened himself so wide this day that he couldn't stop his loose tongue from rattling. Penelope's acceptance of him as the father of her children had bowled him over more than he'd anticipated. He still couldn't believe it. He'd seldom known this kind of joy, and he waited for the next blow to fall.

From beneath the curtain of black hair falling over her shoulder and across the sculpted white of her breasts, Penelope traced her finger down his breastbone. Charlie already knew it was difficult for her to open up to him as he did for her. She'd spent years perfecting a wall of reserve not easily breached. She was so beautiful, it terrified and excited him at the same time. No one had ever dared give him anything so precious and so breakable before.

He sensed more than saw her slow smile as she digested his stupid declaration. “I suppose, if we're being honest, that you make me feel as intrepid as Lois Lane. No man has ever given me that kind of confidence before.”

Charlie sighed in satisfaction and pulled her down on top of him. Instinct had told him she was the right woman for him. Time would prove it.

He caught her mouth and set about forging more heart chains.

***

Morning sparkled over both the balcony and the beautiful woman sipping her coffee at the table, admiring the crash of foam-capped waves below. The power of all that beauty was so sharp, it hurt, and Charlie crushed the messages in his hand as he stood inside the shadowed room, looking out. He still couldn't believe a crippled football player and ragged construction worker like himself could be so lucky, but the elegant woman sitting there was his, was waiting for him, after a night he'd remember for the rest of his life.