Hunter (22 page)
He cried out, his body rippling beside hers. She pressed into his arms and helped him, loving the fury of his hands gripping her hips, loving the unbridled pleasure she saw in his face. He was truly hers, now. Completely hers. She shivered, amazed that his own satisfaction caused her body to fulfill itself in one long, hot wave of shuddering pleasure.
Long afterward, they slept. When she woke at last, it was to the smell of something delicious cooking in the kitchen. She got up and dressed, slowly, with the memory of what had happened like a candle in her mind.
Phillip was standing at the stove cooking steak. He was wearing only the trousers from his suit. His chest and feet were bare. He glanced up as she joined him, and his eyes were warm and tender.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, opening one arm to draw her to him and kiss her softly.
“A little,” she whispered. Her eyes met his. “Do you really love me?”
“With all my heart,” he whispered back, his eyes punctuating the words. “Life without you is no life, Jennifer. You'll have to get used to having an Apache husband.”
“You want to marry me?” she asked, holding her breath.
He put down the fork he was using to turn the steak and brought her against him, bending to kiss her with fierce hunger. “Of course I want to marry you!” he said impatiently, when he lifted his head. “I always did. But the memory of how it was for my mother colored my whole life. Until my grandfather told me the truthâthat my father was only a conversation piece for her; that she never loved him. He sent me to you,” he added huskily. “He said that I was a fool.”
She smiled gently. “No. Just a man afraid to trust. But I'll never hurt you, my darling,” she said, sliding her arms around him, laying her blond head on his bare chest. “I'll give you children and live with you anywhere you say.”
“Your job⦔ he began.
“Geology isn't something you forget. I'll have babies for a few years, then when they're in school, I'll work out of the Tucson or Phoenix offices. Eugene won't fire me completely.”
His lean hands stilled on her back. “I can't let you make that kind of sacrifice for me.”
She lifted her head. “You gave up fieldwork,” she replied. “And I know how much you loved it. You did that because of me, didn't you?”
“Yes,” he admitted finally. “I didn't want the risk. I was thinking about how it would be for you and the children while I was away.”
She smiled with pure delight. “Me and the children,” she mused. “And yet you went away swearing that you wanted nothing to do with me.”
“Lying through my teeth,” he added with a dry chuckle. “I drove my grandfather crazy.”
She reached up and touched his thick, dark eyebrows. “We're so different in coloring. I wonder if our children will look like you or me?”
“I hope they'll look like both of us,” he replied. “My grandfather said that I was living proof that a man can have a foot in two worlds.” He smiled at her. “He doesn't like whites, as a rule, but he'll like you.”
“My parents will like you,” she returned.
He frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Well, I did just happen to tell them about you a few thousand times over the past few years, and I had this picture that I begged out of the personnel files. My mother thought you were striking, and my father was sure you'd be able to keep me out of dangerous places if I ever married you.”
“They don't mind the cultural differences?” he stressed.
“They raised me with a mind of my own and let me use it,” she replied. “They're not rigid people, as you'll see when you meet them. They're very educated people with tolerant personalities. Besides all that, they want grandchildren.”
“I see. That was the selling point, was it?” he murmured.
“Yes, it was. So we'd better set a date and get busy.”
He bent and kissed her, ignoring the smell of burning steak. “How does next Friday suit you?” he asked.
“Just fine.” She kissed him back, smiling. The steak went right on burning, and nobody noticed until it was the color of tar and the texture of old leather. Which was just as well, because they were in too much of a hurry to get to the courthouse for a marriage license to worry about food, anyway.
* * * * *
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ISBN: 9781460392874
Hunter
Copyright © 1990 by Diana Palmer
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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