Wish on the Moon (25 page)

Mitch discovered no one was watching him but
Laura. Forgetting his self consciousness, he watched back. The
fluffy mass of her hair brushed her cheeks as she kept time to the
music with her head. Her dancing reminded him of how she made
love--the way she undulated above him or beneath him. She was
uninhibited, joyously sensual. It didn't take much effort to
remember her fingers sketching designs on his chest, her moist lips
loving him to oblivion, her gray eyes shooting silver sparks as he
made her his.

And--damn!--he was thinking of her as his
more and more often. It had to stop. She was leaving in less than a
week. He'd heard her phone her supervisor and confirm the date
she'd be back at work. There'd been no hesitation in her voice. She
hadn't even asked if she could delay her return. If he meant more
than a brief affair, wouldn't she have tried? Yet even if she
wanted to stay, the memories in York were painful, and although she
and Ray seemed to be getting along there was an undercurrent of
tension that stemmed from the past. Hurt still lingered. God knew,
he understood that kind of pain.

Enough, Riley! Learn from her. Take what you
can get.

As Mitch became more attuned with the music
and Laura's steps, they began a primal dance--a mating ritual.
Laura moved provocatively to the right. He moved to the right. He
stepped backward. She stepped forward, her eyes grafted to his.
When he curved his hands around her waist, the notes vibrated
through her swaying hips to his soul. The dance ended and he caught
her to him, placing a kiss on her lips embellished with a flourish
of his tongue. He wanted her here...now...yet knew the wait could
be even longer than tonight. Privacy was elusive.

The music began once more and he admitted,
"You could convince me to do that again." He added, "You wouldn't
have to try very hard." Anticipation might kill him but he couldn't
let go of the excitement.

And he didn't the rest of the night. By the
time they left the nightclub, he hoped the icy air would start what
a cold shower would finish when he returned to Ray's house.

But as usual, resolve was one thing. Laura
was another. After he unlocked the car and they climbed inside, she
snuggled close to him. The icy air had done no good at all. Her
coat rustled against his. The sound, the feel, was more erotic
because of the barriers. He knew what his skin against hers could
do to both of them. At a stoplight he turned to look at her. Her
smiled tugged his head toward hers and he kissed her long after the
light had turned green. Luckily, no one was behind them.

The kiss encouraged the need for intimacy
their dancing had generated. Mitch finally realized that no amount
of winter air or cold water could douse the passion he felt for
this woman. To someone who held every aspect of himself with tight
restraint, that was an exasperating and overwhelming insight. He'd
never thought himself capable of "high" passion--the stuff movies
and books were made of. He'd been wrong. He'd never indulged
himself with anything. Sure, once he had money in his pocket, he'd
lived comfortably. He'd indulged his mother, and Carey. But never
himself. Maybe it was time to indulge himself with Laura, to fill
himself up with her so that when she left, some of her would
linger.

He drove into the garage and when he pressed
the remote, the door hummed down behind them. When he switched off
the ignition, the silence and the warmth lingering from the car's
heater created an intimate pocket of awareness. The glow from a
street lamp strayed in one garage window, casting dabbles of pale
light mixed with shadow.

His gaze found Laura's and a hot lick of
desire taunted him, leading him to forget staid and proper. He took
her hand and interlaced their fingers. "I had fun tonight."

She squeezed his hand. "I hoped you
would."

"It makes me wonder what else I've missed
because of...misconceptions."

"Trying new things is hard."

"Not for you." He lifted her hand to his lips
and kissed her palm. His tongue caressed the line down the center.
Her small moan crawled across his aroused nerve endings until her
pleasure was his. Her scent of flowers wound about him, enticing
him closer. His body throbbed with need.

She cupped his chin and stroked his jaw with
her forefinger.

"I want you, Laura." The husky tremor in his
voice once might have embarrassed him, but it didn't now.

"I want you too."

It was so simply stated, so simply meant, he
couldn't doubt it. He'd told her about his reluctance to make love
to her in Ray's home. She understood. "I wish we'd driven to
Harrisburg."

"But we didn't." Laura was very still,
obviously waiting for some sign from him of what he wanted.

He shifted on the seat and his hands slipped
under her hair, cradling her head. "We don't have to go to
Harrisburg. I have a back seat."

After an exchanged look and promising smiles,
they exited the front of the car and climbed into the back.
Instantly they were in each others' arms.

"We could have snuck into one of the guest
rooms," she suggested.

"Someone could have stopped us on the way.
Out here seems more private somehow."

Her lips were warm under his, the inside of
her mouth was hot and slick just like her body when she received
him, tightened around him... His groan sounded in his chest.

Laura's fingers feverishly burrowed inside
his top coat, inside his suit jacket, seeking to be closer to
him.

Mitch understood the need. He unbuttoned her
coat and pushed the leather aside. His lips blazed a trail down her
neck to the hollow of her throat where her pulse wildly beat. For
him. He felt proud. He felt thankful.

"This is crazy. We're in a car," he muttered
as he found the hem of her dress and pushed it up her thigh.

Her hands tugged out his shirt and her skin
touched his. "Does it matter?"

When the pads of his fingers felt the sensory
stimulation of nylons, his manhood pulsated so hard he hurt. "Hell,
no, it doesn't matter," he growled, not caring if they were in the
middle of Times Square on New Year's Eve. Need mattered, being
inside her mattered, making the most of now mattered. That was
all.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Sunday afternoon, Laura took a long walk so
she could think as well as feel. She and Mitch only had a few days
left. Last night in the car had been wild and wonderful. But he
hadn't mentioned love and he hadn't asked her to stay. Part of her
was starting to panic. Her good sense was telling her to give him
all the time and space she could.

Laura admired Mitch more than she could ever
tell him. Nora had told her how Mitch would stand up to her husband
to protect her despite the consequences, like a slap across the
face or an angry tirade Mitch couldn't escape. He'd avoided his
father whenever possible, but when it wasn't...

The past had left its mark. He liked to take
the safe route. And he didn't consider her safe. Because she coaxed
him to feel? And in the past that had led to disappointment?

Her promise to Carey nagged at her as she
circled the block and started back toward the house. Was she
breaking a trust with Mitch by not telling him about Carey? If he
found out, would he forgive her? What she needed to do was convince
him to talk to Carey. If Carey realized how much Mitch did care...
The thought stepped up her pace.

Laura loved the wind, the taste of winter on
her lips, the crunch of leftover snow under her boots. As she
approached the driveway, Mitch stepped outside. His hair ruffled in
the breeze. His disheveled hair and slight beard shadow made him
look rumpled and sexy.

Mitch watched Laura as she moved toward him.
He couldn't believe they'd made love in the car last night! Their
fumbling hands, their clothes in the way, the cold air making their
heat that much more scalding, her hands inside his shirt, his hands
slipping down her panties... He'd never been that excited in his
life. Maybe for the first time he understood the allure of danger,
risk, impulse. His body heated up thinking about it, let alone
looking at her now. She was beautiful with her hair mussed, her
cheeks red. He'd never seen a woman look so good or affect him so
deeply.

Laura frowned as Mitch met her in the middle
of the walk and he asked, "What's wrong?" He stayed a few steps
away. One touch. Just one touch and he'd catch on fire.

"I thought Carey might decide to come over
this afternoon. But I don't see his motorcycle so I guess he's not
here."

"Carey does what he pleases, when he
pleases."

"Have you two ever really talked?"

"About what?" Mitch felt compelled to ask
although it was against his better judgment.

Her hands flew through the air. "Life! Your
life, his life, what the two of you think and feel about each
other."

What had gotten into her? Sure, he'd tried to
talk to Carey. But they ended up arguing. The tension between them
had always been there, fed by their father. That was too painful to
explain.

Mitch shrugged and fell back on a viable
excuse. "Carey's never around."

She became more agitated. "He's around now.
He's been here almost as long as I have. You and I have found time
to talk."

They'd found time to do much more than that,
but he decided not to remind her right now. "Carey and I have
trouble talking."

"Like me and Dad." The agitation left Laura.
She reached up and traced the scar on his cheek, as if he was the
only thing that mattered in the world. "Tell me how you got
this."

Her caring brought a lump to his throat. He
forced himself to swallow it. "It was the Fourth of July. Carey got
a hold of fireworks."

She frowned, her nose wrinkling at the bridge
in the way he loved. All emotion left his voice as he remembered.
"He had friends who knew where to get them. I found out where they
were going to set them off. Like always, I thought I'd fix it, stop
him, make him see reason."

"But you couldn't?"

"I was too late."

"What happened?"

Mitch shoved his hands deep in his jacket
pockets, reliving the fear for his brother. "Carey was too close.
He didn't have any protective gear. When he lit the fuse, I pulled
him out of the way. We landed on the ground and when the
firecracker exploded, some of it hit me."

She touched the scar again as if to make any
pain he'd suffered go away. "You were lucky it missed your
eye."

"Yes, I was." He stood perfectly still.

"And Carey feels responsible."

"He shouldn't. It was an accident," Mitch
explained for the umpteenth time in his life.

"He caused it."

Mitch pulled his hands out of his pockets and
started to toward the door. "I've been through this before. I don't
blame him."

She grabbed his arm. "How could you not?"

Mitch stopped. "He's my brother!"

She said gently, "That doesn't mean you
weren't and aren't angry with him for it."

He wished she'd stop playing therapist but he
realized she thought she was helping. He sighed. "I might have been
when I was a teenager. Kids can be cruel. But I've always felt more
protective than angry. That's what's led us to where we are today.
I don't know what I could have done differently. I could have stood
back like I'm trying to now, but he needed me."

She released his arm. "He needs you now,
too."

Mitch's hand mowed restlessly through his
hair. "He needs money and he sees me as the all-beneficent giver. I
can't give it to him this time, Laura. If I do, he'll never grow
up. I can give him advice. I can give him support. I could even
give him a job if he wanted it."

"Have you told him all that?"

"He won't listen. We end up arguing. He
thinks I hate him."

"And you don't."

The understanding in her eyes melted all his
defenses and reached to the emptiness she had begun to fill. "If
anything..."

"What? What's between you and Carey besides
an accident?"

"Our father's between us. He loved Carey. He
didn't love me." The hurt in his voice was so evident, he felt like
a child exposing his soul.

Laura wrapped her arms around his chest and
held tight. Mitch blinked back sudden tears. He'd thought he'd shed
them all when he was five.

After a few minutes, Laura leaned back. "I
wonder if he loved either of you. Maybe he tolerated Carey because
he didn't cross him and he pretended to get along. But if he let
him get away with everything you've said, if he didn't try to
discipline, or hug him, he didn't love him any more than you."

"He didn't want to put Carey in foster
care."

"Mitch!"

"I cost too much. I heard him and Mom arguing
one night."

The words had come out in a spurt. Laura was
stunned. No wonder Mitch didn't trust love. No wonder he was afraid
to feel. What that must have done to his self-worth! His life.

"Oh, Mitch."

He broke her hold and stepped back. "I don't
want your pity."

His face was taut, his jaw clenched. His
tight fists added to the telling picture. He didn't want her to see
him expressing this much emotion, this much vulnerability. And part
of him resented her for bringing it all to the surface.

She stepped up to him, knowing he wouldn't
retreat because he was a strong man, not a coward. But he didn't
have to be so tough, and someone had to teach him that.

Laura framed his face with her hands and
smoothed over the tense lines around his mouth with her thumbs. "I
don't pity you, Mitch. I hurt for you." She couldn't suppress the
tears welling in her eyes any more than she could suppress the love
in her heart. She didn't say the words because he wasn't ready to
hear them. When she gave her "I love you" for the first time, she
wanted it to be believed and cherished, not doubted or
analyzed.