Everlasting (14 page)

“I know,” he murmured. His lips were brushing against her cheek. “I'm going crazy, too, but let's try to ease into it, love. I don't want to be as rough with you as I was this morning.”

He hadn't been rough. He had been wonderful. The very violence of his passion had made it all the more intense and beautiful. She had to tell him that. “It wasn't—” She broke off as he suddenly moved away from her.

He sat up, unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes never leaving hers. “I love the way you look tonight. I like your hair tousled and wild about your shoulders.” He pulled the shirt out of his trousers and slipped it off. His shoulders gleamed bronze in the firelight as he tossed the shirt away. “Sit up, Kira.” He didn't wait for her to comply but pulled her gently to a sitting position. He took the bottom of her blouse and pulled it over her head and threw it on top of his shirt. Then he was tugging at her right boot. “I'm getting very proprietary about these boots,” he said with a faint smile. He took the other boot off her and threw it toward the other clothing. Then he paused to gaze at her
with eyes that were smoky with hunger. She could feel the tension zapping between them in jagged lines of power. “I'm beginning to feel very proprietary about you too.” He moved forward and his unsteady hands untied the lace waist of her belt. When he had finished loosening the laces he hesitated, looking down at them. Then he suddenly pulled the laces so tight that her waist was cinched to wasp slimness and her naked breasts jutted forward in saucy invitation.

She gasped and her gaze flew to his. “What are you doing?”

“Fulfilling a fantasy. Hell, I didn't even know it was a fantasy until I saw you in this outfit.” He kept the laces taut as he slowly lowered his head. “I'm not hurting you, am I?”

“No.” His tongue was stroking her breast gently and she had trouble getting the word out. No pain, only the swollen tautness, the exquisite sensitivity of her nipples, his warm teasing tongue. The only pain was the aching desire for completion. “What fantasy?”

He released the laces, unfastened the belt, and
slipped it from her waist. His eyes were darkly intent. “I don't know. It has something to do with what I felt when you walked forward into the firelight in that seventeenth-century garb.” He shrugged. “Déjà vu. Nostalgia. Something.” He unfastened his belt and pulled off his boots. “It's a night for magic and fantasy, Kira. Do you have any fantasies you want to have fulfilled?” His gaze was holding her own. “Tell me. I want to show you I can be something besides the barbarian I was this morning.”

She could scarcely think, much less remember any fantasy she might have had. “I think you're doing very well on your own.”

His smile was a warm flash in his dark face. “Good. Then we'll continue as we started. I'll be right back, love.”

He stood and stripped quickly, then knelt beside her again. His palms framed her face and he kissed her tenderly. “Come here, Kira.” His legs were spread wide and suddenly her skirt and petticoats were frothing over him. His hand was beneath them. Searching. Finding. She gasped as his fingers gently started a rhythm that caused her to
clutch wildly at his shoulders. She felt the prickly abrasion of the dusting of hair on his thighs as he arranged her legs around his hips. Then his hands were on her bottom, bringing her slowly forward.

She bit her lip to stifle a little moan as he began to fill the aching emptiness at an excruciatingly slow pace.

“It's like a treasure hunt, with all these petticoats hiding you from me.” He laughed huskily. “But I think I've found the way. Dear heaven, but it's a slow way.”

She thought so too. “Hurry.” Her nails unconsciously dug into the flesh of his shoulders. “This is driving me… crazy.”

He flexed and felt a deep shudder go through her.

“Just a little more. I'm going crazy, too, but I want—” He broke off. “There. Now put your arms around me.” His arms enfolded her and he buried his lips in her hair. Closeness. Fullness. Fire.

Then he was tumbling her over backward and flipping up the skirt and lace petticoats. His hand ran over her possessively. His face above her was
heavy with sensuality. “Now this is the time when we hurry, Kira,” he said softly. “Like this, love.”

He exploded into wildness, the strokes deep and heavy with frantic urgency. She wanted to help him, but the sensations were so intense that she found she could only arch mindlessly up to him, her hands fluttering on his shoulders. Her teeth clenched as wave after wave of feeling surged over her, in her, around her. Then his lips were hard on her own as the final tidal deluge swept them away.

She couldn't move. She felt as if she might never move again. Zack's eyes were closed and his chest was rising and falling with the force of his labored breathing. There was a touch of desperation in his low laugh. “You know, another fantasy like that one might kill me. I've never felt anything so intense before.” He opened his eyes and she was surprised to see how lazily sensual they were. “And do you know something else? Give me a minute or two and I'll be ready to do it again. You have a very wild effect on me, Your Highness.”

“It will take me a little longer than that to
recover,” she murmured. “I feel as if I've just been through an earthquake.”

There was a faintly regretful look in his eyes. “Pity.” He slowly shifted off her. One hand moved to pet her affectionately. “I know I'm being a selfish bastard, but I can't seem to get enough of you.” He unfastened her skirt, then removed both it and the petticoats. “You tell me when you're ready.” He smiled crookedly. “I assure you I'm at your disposal at any time.” He lay down on the sheepskin pallet and pulled her into his arms, rolling her over so they were facing each other. Then he sighed contentedly. “Though this is nice too.”

“Yes.” She nestled closer. “I think nice is a definite understatement.” Her eyes were drooping drowsily and she smothered a yawn against his shoulder.

She was conscious of his hand running lazily down her arm to her wrist. “Take a nap, love. We have all night.”

She nodded. She would sleep presently, but right now she wanted to lie here and enjoy this wonderful closeness. Then his fingers were threading once more through hers in the intimate embrace
that now seemed peculiarly their own. She smiled contentedly as her heavy lids closed. The last memory of which she was conscious was the sight of their hands joined in companionship and…

It was early afternoon when she heard the whir of the helicopter. At first the sound was so faint it might have been the hum of a bee and she didn't bother to open her eyes. She was drowsy and content sitting here against the trunk of the beech tree, with the sun on her face and Zack's head in her lap, and it was impossible to believe anything could disturb the bucolic enchantment of the moment.

Then the chugging whir became louder and her eyes flew open. “Zack!” There was an edge of panic in her voice. “Zack, I hear something.”

“Um-m,” he murmured, not opening his eyes. “So do I.”

“It's a helicopter.” She pushed his head from her lap and jumped to her feet in a flurry of petticoats. “I'm sure it's a helicopter.” She ran to the edge of
the hill, her gaze searching the sky. “Zack, for God's sake, just don't lie there. They've found us!”

“I'm lying here because you nearly knocked me out when my head fell off your lap,” he said dryly as he sat up.

“Oh, dear, I'm sorry.” She glanced over her shoulder with a stricken expression. “But they're
here
, Zack.”

A cinnamon-colored helicopter had appeared on the horizon. It was moving purposefully in their direction.

Zack rose to his feet and strolled over to stand beside her. “So I see. But the question is, Who are
they?”
He suddenly grinned down at her. “Don't worry. It's not Stefan's storm troopers. I've been expecting this particular helicopter. I radioed Perry Bentley last night after you went to sleep and told him to fly in from Switzerland today.”

“Perry Bentley?”

“My assistant. You probably saw him that night outside the theater in Tucson.” He turned and started down the hill. “Put your boots on and let's go down and meet him as he lands.”

She stared after him. “How did you know I was outside the theater that night?” But he was halfway down the hill and could no longer hear her. She hurriedly thrust her bare feet into the boots and tucked the tail of her blouse into her skirt. Then she was hurrying after him.

She caught up as he reached the open field. Zack's own helicopter was stashed on the perimeter, beneath the cover of overhanging trees. She watched as the aircraft landed in the exact center of the field. “How did you know I was outside—”

His hand closed on her arm as he stepped forward eagerly. “Come on. I want you to see your present.” He was pulling her toward the helicopter, his expression endearingly boyish.

“My present?” she echoed bewilderedly.

The door of the helicopter was opening and the plump man who had run interference for Zack at the theater the first night she'd seen him jumped to the ground. He was dressed in casual jeans and a yellow T-shirt, and was carrying a small cardboard box.

“Perry Bentley. Kira Rubinoff.” Zack introduced
them absently as he took the box and handed it to Kira. “Your present.”

“How do you do,” Kira murmured as she opened the box. A camera. A state-of-the-art Nikon—with every conceivable lens and attachment. Her eyes lifted to Zack's. “You had him fly from Switzerland to bring me a
camera?”

“You wanted it,” he said simply. “You said it was important to you and Marna.” His brow suddenly furrowed in a frown. “Don't you like it?”

She felt tears sting her eyes. What an extravagant and touching gesture! She felt a surge of feeling so intense it took her breath away. “I love it,” she finally whispered huskily. Her index finger caressed the camera. “It's the most wonderful present I've ever received. Thank you, Zack.”

“It's far more advanced than the first one he bought you,” Bentley said cheerfully. “They've made some amazing strides in technology in the last five years. There are some instructions in the box that will show you how to use the new—” He broke off with a frown as he caught her stunned expression. “Is something wrong?”

“That's what I'm wondering,” she said slowly. “But, yes, I'm beginning to think there may be something very wrong.” She turned to Zack.
“You
bought me the camera Marna gave me for my eighteenth birthday?”

Zack stiffened warily. “I was going to tell you about that. Somehow I just didn't get around to it.” His voice lowered. “I found myself otherwise distracted.”

Her heart jerked, and for a moment the shock and bewilderment ebbed as she remembered the “distraction.” Then she pulled her attention back to the subject at hand. She had an uneasy feeling this was even more important than it appeared on the surface.

She swiftly lifted her head to meet Bentley's eyes. “Zack was aware that I was outside the theater in Tucson, even though I was careful to keep in the background. Now how do you suppose he knew, Mr. Bentley?”

Bentley cast an uncomfortable glance at Zack. Then, when his employer slowly nodded permission,
he said, “The security man who was tailing you called me on the car phone.”

“Tailing me? What security man?”

“The one who has been assigned to protect you for the last seven years,” Bentley said. He was definitely uneasy now and his words came out choppily “Jansen is one of Mr. Damon's best security men.”

Kira felt as if she were lost in a maze of mirrors where nothing appeared as it really was. “Seven years?”

“Actually, it was more like ten,” Zack said quietly. “I became very dissatisfied with Stefan's slipshod security and decided to protect you myself.” He motioned with a jerk of his thumb. “The encampment is through that grove of poplars, Perry. Please go wait for us there.”

“Right,” Bentley said in evident relief before he scurried toward the stand of trees.

“I think you owe me an explanation,” Kira said carefully.

He nodded. “Yes, I think I do too. I first heard about you the summer I was nineteen. Marna had come to the camp to nurse her mother and I was
always off in the hills with Paulo so I didn't see much of her at first. Then I began to catch her staring at me.” He smiled crookedly. “Rather like a housewife considering the merits of a piece of meat for a stew. One day she took me aside and told me about the
mondava
. She also told me about a child called Kira, who was the other half of me. She said that one day, after the child had become a woman, she would send her to me.” He paused. “I didn't believe a word of it. I was accustomed to a certain amount of mysticism, but mysticism is difficult to accept when applied to one's own self. The whole thing sounded like a soap opera or one of those old bodice-ripper novels. A royal princess couldn't be the other half of a half-breed like Zack Damon. Not in real life. So I went back to Arizona and began to dismiss it from my mind.” He slowly shook his head. “I didn't take Marna's determination into account. The first letter came a month later.”

“Letter?”

“She wrote me every month or so. I was moving around a great deal then and I don't know how she managed to keep track of me, but somehow she
did.” His eyes met hers. “They were always about you. What you'd said and what you'd done. Occasionally she'd send me a snapshot or a hair ribbon or a page of your homework on which you'd gotten a particularly good grade. I gradually got to know you. I looked forward to those letters as if you were
my
child. Then, as you grew older, that feeling began to change. You were still mine, but not enough mine. I began to think about the
mondava
and to believe in it.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I was growing very impatient by the time Marna sent you to me in Tucson. I don't think I could have waited much longer before I came to you. Perhaps Marna knew that.”

“She probably did.” Kira ran her fingers distractedly through her hair. “And she certainly wouldn't have wanted her precious
mondava
to be spoiled. There's more, isn't there? Marna's rescue was a little too smooth to have been effected on the spur of the moment. You already knew she was being held prisoner when I came to you.”