Deep Waters (18 page)

She put her arms around him and hugged him with fierce determination. He was hard and unyielding.
Aware that she was engaged in a battle of unknown dimensions, she tightened her arms and pressed her face against his shoulder. With a sense of desperation, she willed her warmth and something more, something she was not certain she wanted to identify, into the center of his being.

A shudder went through Elias. With a low, hoarse groan, he captured her head between his hands.

“You should have gone home,” he said.

And then his mouth was on hers. The beast of loneliness howled.

Charity swayed beneath the onslaught of a masculine hunger that threatened to drown her. For a moment, everything threatened to disappear.

When the mist cleared slightly, she realized that she was in Elias's arms. He had picked her up and was carrying her toward the dark opening that marked the doorway of the bedroom.

She felt herself being lowered onto a cushion of some sort. It had to be a futon, she thought. Nothing else would be this hard and uncomfortable. The man slept on a
futon.
That was taking self-discipline a little too far.

But she had no time to complain. He came down on top of her and she promptly forgot about the overly firm bedding. Elias was far more rigid than his futon.

His lean, powerful body was a sexy weight crushing her into the dense cushions. The kiss was endlessly deep, infinitely mysterious, not unlike Elias himself.

Charity wrapped her arms around his neck. His fingers went to the buttons of her loose, chambray dress. She heard him inhale sharply when he uncovered her breasts. His palm closed over one nipple, and it was her turn to gasp. She felt herself tighten at his touch. Another savage shudder went through him.

“You shouldn't have come here tonight,” he muttered.

“It's all right, Elias.” Her head fell back across his arm. One of his legs slid between her thighs. He pushed his knee upward, shoving aside the skirt of her dress. The denim of his jeans was rough and strangely exciting against her bare skin.

“You shouldn't be here, but I can't send you away now. God help me, I want you too much.”

He pulled free of her mouth and bent his head to catch the crown of her breast between his teeth. His hand went to the rapidly dampening crotch of her panties. He squeezed gently, urgently. One strong finger eased beneath the elastic edge. He tugged off the undergarment in a single, swift movement.

A driving excitement washed over Charity, a giant wave that gathered her up and tumbled her about until she was dazed and disoriented. She had never felt so gloriously wild in her life. She yanked Elias's shirt free of his jeans and sank her fingers into his sleekly contoured back.

For some reason, it came as a shock to discover how warm he was. She sensed the muscles working smoothly, powerfully beneath his skin. The tang of his scent was electrifyingly male.

She fumbled with the pliant strip of leather that he wore outside the belt loops of his jeans. There was no buckle. She could not figure out how to unfasten the odd knot. In mounting frustration, she jerked at a trailing end.

“I'll take care of it.” He levered himself away from her long enough to remove the unusual belt.

The knot that had proved so stubborn beneath her fingers, came undone at a single touch of his hand. He shifted again to toss the length of leather down beside the futon. She heard the slide of a metal zipper.

He rolled to one side, pulled off his jeans, and reached into the open chest beside the futon. Charity heard the distinctive sound of tearing foil. Elias's hands moved deftly.

A moment later he rolled back on top of her. She tensed when she felt the broad head of his sheathed erection pressing against her damp body. He was heavy and thick.

Big. Definitely big. But it was excitement she felt, not panic.

He centered himself between her legs. “Look at me.”

She opened her eyes, responding instantly to the urgency in his words. There was just enough light filtering in from the front room to allow her to see the stark hunger in him. The rush of her own response made her tremble.

She drove her fingers through his hair. “I want you, Elias.”

“No more games,” he whispered.

“No more games.”

He thrust into her in a slow, endless motion that shocked all of her senses. Everything within her froze. She could not think, could not speak, could not move. He filled her completely. Stretched her to the point of pain. Every muscle in her body was coiled spring-tight in response to the sensual invasion.

Locked deep inside her, Elias went as still as everything else in the universe. He stared down at her as if waiting for some signal to finish what had been begun.

“Are you all right?” he asked in a voice that shook a little around the edges.

Charity took a deep breath and rediscovered her own tongue. “Yes. Yes, I'm very much all right.” She clenched her fingers tightly in his hair and lifted herself cautiously against him.

A husky groan vibrated deep in his chest. “I don't want to hurt you. You're so small and tight. I didn't realize—”

“I said, it's all right.” She smiled up at him.

“My God, Charity.” He bent his head and kissed the curve of her shoulder.

The unbearable tightness eased. The world began to revolve once more.

Elias retreated slowly, cautiously and then pushed steadily back into her. This time excitement accompanied the overwhelming sense of fullness. Charity sighed hungrily and dug her nails into his shoulders.

He responded with a swift intake of breath. One of his hands slid down her body to the point where they were joined. He found the exquisitely sensitive nub in the nest of crisp, curling hair and stroked deliberately.

Electricity shot through her. She arched and cried out.

“So good,” he whispered. “So real.”

She swallowed a wild urge to laugh. “Of course I'm real. What did you think I was? Just another reflection on the water?”

“I wasn't quite certain until now.”

He stroked again and again and all the seething tension within her exploded in wave after wave of release. She felt his teeth on her earlobe as he drove into her one last time.

His body stiffened in climax. His hoarse, soundless cry echoed in the darkness.

Charity let the night take her.

No more games.

Elias opened his eyes and looked at the dark ceiling. The scent of spent passion mingled with the cool fog-laced air that came through the partially opened window.
He was acutely aware of the warm curve of Charity's thigh pressed against his leg.

He could feel the satisfaction in every quadrant of his body. It sang in his veins and created a pleasant warmth in his belly. He stretched, languid and relaxed and content.

No more games.

It felt good.

It felt dangerous.

Control was everything in Tal Kek Chara. To lose control was to be swept away by the raging tide into the deepest part of the sea. To lose control was to be caught up in the churning rapids of a primeval river. To lose control was to go over the falls, to plummet down through the depths of an icy-cold, bottomless lake.

To lose control was to lose everything.

The following morning Charity gazed out the window at the fog that had enveloped Whispering Waters Cove during the night. “If this doesn't lift by tonight, the spaceships may not get clearance to land.”

“Something tells me it won't make much difference,” Elias said. “Ready for breakfast?”

“Sure.” She turned away from the window. “But I hope you kept it simple. It's okay to show off at dinner, but it's not fair when it comes to breakfast. Breakfast is not a competitive sport.”

Elias's brows rose as he set two bowls on the low table. “Think of it as a challenge.”

She summoned what she hoped was a breezy, sophisticated smile as she sank down onto one of the cushions in front of the table. “Push me too far, and I'll throw in the towel and send out for pizza tonight.”

“No, you won't. That would be the coward's way, and you're no coward.” He sat down across from her
and poured tea from the brown, earthenware pot. “I'm sure you'll rise to the occasion. Something tells me you always do.”

“I hate to disappoint you, but I lost a lot of my competitive edge when I quit the corporate world.”

The attempt at casual conversation took an extraordinary amount of effort. Charity was not in a light-hearted mood. The uncertainty that gripped her this morning came as a complete surprise. This was not how she had expected to feel after last night's intense lovemaking. It made her uncomfortable. There was no panic yet, but she could definitely hear alarm bells.

This subtle tension between herself and Elias was not right. Not the way things should be today.

Where was the sense of intimacy that ought to have enveloped both of them in a warm cocoon this morning? she wondered. Only hours ago she had felt incredibly close to Elias. Now there was a disturbing distance between them.

She was all too well aware that her experience of sex was not what anyone would call extensive, and it was several years out of date. Her responsibilities to Truitt had imprisoned her in an artificial cloister for years. This was, in fact, the first time that she had ever actually stayed the night with a man and shared breakfast with him the next morning. Nevertheless, her instincts told her that it shouldn't be like this between the two of them.

Something very special had happened between them last night. Elias had let her see a piece of his soul.

But things were all wrong today. He was back in his remote, self-contained universe. She could not touch him the way she had touched him last night.

He had said that there would be no more games, but this morning she felt as if they were both back out on the playing field.

She stifled a small sigh and looked down at the interesting concoction in her bowl. “What is this?”

“Muesli. My own recipe. Oats, rye, sesame seeds, almonds, dried fruit, yogurt, and a touch of vanilla and honey.”

“So much for keeping breakfast noncompetitive.” She added milk to the muesli and picked up a spoon.

“When I stay the night with you, I'll fix breakfast,” he offered with suspicious generosity.

Charity coughed and nearly choked on a bite of cereal. She put down her spoon and grabbed the small teacup.

“Are you okay?” Elias asked.

She nodded quickly and swallowed tea to clear her throat. “Fine. Just fine. Sesame seed went down the wrong way.”

He regarded her with a long, steady gaze. “Does the thought of me spending the night in your bed make you nervous?”

“Of course not.” She gulped more hot tea. “Don't be ridiculous.” With a heroic effort she summoned a confident smile. “But I'm sure neither one of us wants to rush things. We'll take our time. Let the relationship develop naturally.”

His eyes narrowed faintly. “I thought we agreed last night that there would be no more games.”

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “Letting a relationship mature and develop at its own pace is not considered game-playing. It's just common sense.”

“What's wrong, Charity?”

“Nothing's wrong.” She let the smile drop. “I'm just trying to sort things out, that's all.”

“What's to sort out?”

Anger flared out of nowhere. “You have to ask me that?” She set the teacup down so hard that it threatened to crack. Otis grumbled at the noise. “You're
the one who's been acting as if nothing out of the ordinary happened last night.”

He gazed at her for a long while. “About last night.”

She held up a hand. “Please. If this is the part where you tell me not to read too much into what happened between us last night, forget it. I'm trying to eat my breakfast. You can give me the lecture later.”

“No.”

“You want to go back to playing games, fine. Go play with yourself.”

“That idea lacks a certain appeal,” he said dryly. “Especially after last night.”

She felt herself turn red. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes. But I don't think you understand what I'm trying to say here.”

“Hah. That's what you think. I understand exactly what you're trying to say.” She tapped her spoon on the edge of the bowl. “You want to tell me that you weren't yourself last night, don't you? That I shouldn't assume too much because of what happened. That you're sorry we spent the night together.”

He hesitated. “You've got it half right. I wasn't in a good place last night.”

“Uh-huh.” She stabbed her spoon into the muesli.

“I wasn't expecting you to show up. I had a lot of thinking to do.”

“And I interrupted you?”

“To be blunt, yes, you did. It would have been better if you had not come into the garden when you did.”

“Sorry about that.” She spooned up a mouthful of muesli and chewed with a vengeance. “Won't happen again.”

He frowned. “You don't get it.”

“Sure, I do. I'm an ex-CEO, remember? I can boil
down even the most complicated issues into simple concepts. Problem? You wish I hadn't shown up last night. Solution? Simple. We'll just pretend it never happened.”

“That's not going to be possible.”

She smiled grimly. “Watch me.”

“You're angry.”

She thought about it. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Charity, I'm trying to get something clear between us.”

“Maybe it would be better if you just ate your breakfast instead.”

He ignored that. “What I'm trying to tell you is that I regret that you interrupted me while I was in the middle of a contemplation session last night. I was trying to sort out some things. I think that you might have drawn some false conclusions based on what happened after you showed up.”

She halted the spoon halfway to her mouth, as realization dawned. “Wait a second. I think I'm getting a glimmer here.”