Love by Proxy (17 page)

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Authors: Diana Palmer

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His breathing became audible, over the soft sound of the recorder. He touched her throat, brushing it, teasing it. He bent and slowly put his mouth over hers. She let him kiss her, turning to him, glorying in his slow, sweet ardor.

“I want you,” he whispered into her lips. “I want to have you, right now.”

Her lips parted as he touched her body with hands that were softly arousing, tender. “Worth, the servants…”

“It’s nine o’clock, they’ve all gone.” He kissed her again. His breath was coming quickly, his heartbeat was audible. “Amy,” he groaned as the kiss grew deeper. “Oh, God, Amy, I’m burning up,” he breathed into her open mouth. His kisses were harder now, his hands urgent. “Amy, let me,” he whispered, easing her down into the cushions. “Let me.”

“Worth…you’re so big….” she protested breathlessly as his weight settled on her, as she felt the sudden, swift pressure of his aroused body.

“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered. “I won’t hurt our baby.”

“Oh, I know that.” She laughed unsteadily. “But, darling, the love seat is so short!”

“Call me that again,” he murmured, nibbling her ear as his hands searched for fastenings and slowly eased her clothing away between kisses.

“Darling,” she obliged. Her fingers unbuttoned the casual shirt he was wearing, and she caught her breath as his broad, hair-matted chest lay bare to her hands. She caressed him wildly, on fire with the long abstinence, with remembered passion and fulfillment. “Darling, I want you, too, I want you so much, Worth!”

“I’ll give you my body,” he whispered, reaching down for his belt. “All of it, here, now. It’s been so long. I’m so hungry for you, Amy.”

Her arms enfolded him as he moved, and she kissed him fiercely as his body found adequate space to maneuver and took slow, sweet possession of hers.

He laughed shakily, delightedly. “Oh, yes,” he breathed as the rhythm built and she made a wild little noise under his mouth. “Yes! My God, you burn me…!”

She wanted to repeat that for him, but it was happening already, much too soon, much too soon. She closed her eyes and felt the exquisite tension build and build until it snapped like a spring and sent her down into the exquisite flames, and she burned up in a kaleidoscope of ecstatic color.

He was trembling. She came slowly back to awareness, feeling his heavy heartbeat, his ragged breathing, the dampness of his skin on hers, the force of his formidable weight. She caressed his shoulders and smiled into his throat.

“Worth,” she murmured drowsily.

“I lost it,” he whispered. “I’m sorry….”

She bit him delicately and laughed when he stiffened. “I lost it, too, so there’s no need to apologize.”

He lifted his head on a steadying breath and searched her drowsy, sated blue eyes. “I love doing this to you,” he whispered. “I love seeing your eyes afterward. We didn’t hurt the baby?” he added suddenly.

“No.” She smiled as his hand touched her abdomen. Her long fingers pressed his closer. “It’s only the last six weeks or so that they don’t want me indulging.”

“You’re almost three months along, aren’t you?” he asked, counting mentally.

“Almost. He’ll start moving in another month and a half,” she added, and laughed at his expression. “Didn’t you know, Worth? They kick. At first it will be tiny flutters, but eventually we’ll be able to feel little hands and feet…. Worth!”

His eyes had misted. He made a rough sound and buried his face in her throat. She held him, shocked.

“That’s the Italian in my ancestry coming out,” he murmured, not at all embarrassed. He nibbled at her neck. “It’s an emotional thing, fathering a child. And to think about tiny hands and feet!” He took a deep breath. “My God.”

“You really do want the baby, don’t you?” she asked gently.

“I want him, all right.” His face nuzzled hers. “I’ll love him like mad, Amy.”

“Yes. So will I.” Her eyes closed as she drew him down hard against her. “He’ll be someone of my very own to love and to love me. My parents care, but they love each other so much, there’s hardly enough left for another person.”

“I saw that,” he whispered. He kissed her ear, her cheek, her temple, her eyes. “All I’ve ever had was Grandmother. And until Jackie died, I was second best even then.” He sighed. “There was a woman who said she loved me and only wanted what I had. I’ve got a lousy track record with love, too, Amy.”

Her hands touched his dark, cool hair. “Worth…!…” She swallowed and searched for the words while his big, warm body went curiously still. “Would you mind very much if…well…if I…someday…fell in love…with you?”

His breath started again, in spurts, his hand slid under her neck and began to massage the nape absently. “Do you think you could?” he whispered hesitantly. “I’ve been cruel to you, Amy.”

“Only because I hurt you, and didn’t realize that I had.” She kissed his throat, his chin. “Oh, Worth,” she whispered, pressing wild, sweet little kisses all over his face. “Worth, if you’d let me love you, I think I could give up breathing!”

An odd sound tore out of his throat. His mouth slid across her cheek to find her own, and he kissed her into a sobbing, trembling submission with lips that were hungry and possessive and urgently demanding. His body trembled, and she felt a wetness on her face that she wasn’t sure had come only from her own eyes.

“Let you,” he ground out, and he sounded hoarse. “Oh, God, don’t you know what I feel for you? Can’t you see it, hear it, feel it?” He lifted his head and stared down into her eyes with a wild hunger that a blind woman couldn’t have missed. “Amy, I love you, too! I love you so much!”

Her arms drew him down to her; her eyes bled tears as she kissed him, savoring him, adoring him with her mouth and her hands and her body. It was a dream come true. It was the world and the sun and moon, it was breath itself.

“Now make love to me,” she whispered brokenly, nibbling at his mouth. “Now, take me, and we won’t hold back anything, anything at all, darling.”

He framed her face in his hands and his lips moved against hers. “Yes,” he whispered. He made her part of him, he watched her as he rocked against her, seeing the love, feeling it. He smiled shakenly and bent to her mouth, trembling all over. “And so we truly love,” he whispered as it began all over again.

It was midnight before he carried her into the bedroom, leaving discarded clothing all over the living room and the VCR still purring away.

“Everybody will know,” she murmured drowsily.

“They’re all human,” he reminded her. “And all married, too. Let them snicker. I’m a bridegroom, what the hell do I care? I’m not supposed to have any sense on my wedding night.”

“If you did have any, I’ve deprived you of it,” she teased gently, her eyes loving as they met his. “Worth, if Jeanette had kept improving, would you still have come after me?”

“Of course,” he said. “She wasn’t all that ill, you know,” he added with a smile as he closed the door behind them. “She was lonely. And so was I. I couldn’t live without my heart, so I went to Georgia to find it again and bring it home.” He drew her closer. “I won’t ever let it go, now.”

She reached up and kissed him. “I’m very glad. And the baby? You really don’t mind.”

He laid her down on the bed, standing over her magnificent in his nudity, faintly amused. “Well, let me show you how I feel about the baby.”

He opened his closet door. Teddy bears and baseball bats and gloves and dolls and rolling toys and mechanical toys and stuffed tigers all rolled out onto the carpet in glorious profusion.

“Now,” he said, hands on his hips, “do you have any more questions?”

She could only laugh. “No, darling. Not a single one.”

She held out her arms and he went into them, and the eyes of one of the teddy bears reflected the lamp. The bear seemed to be laughing as the light switch went off and plunged the room into a warm, secret darkness, full of love and new promise.

* * * * *

DIANA PALMER

Diana Palmer is a prolific writer who got her start as a newspaper reporter. As one of the top ten romance writers in America, she had a gift for telling the most sensual tales with charm and humor. Diana lives with her family in Cornelia, Georgia.

eISBN: 978-1-4603-3822-3

LOVE BY PROXY

Copyright © 1985 by Diana Palmer

Published Silhouette Books 1985, 1993

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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