Magnolia Dawn (11 page)

She clutched at his shoulders, her eyes dark with desire. “I want to, but I'm…afraid.”

“You tell me you're afraid, but instead I see and feel arousal.”

She shook her head.
“It wouldn't be… I'm not…”

“What?” Rush tightened his arms. “Just tell me, Anna. Talk to me.”

She shook her head, flattening her hands against his chest. “I can't. I've got to go.”

He heard the fear, the panic in her voice and searched her gaze. “Anna, what's wrong? I want you, you want me. It's simple. Natural.”

A sob tore from her throat. “I wish it were…. I want so desperately…” She drew in a deep breath, obviously fighting for control. “Trust me, Rush, I'm a failure at this. I'm not any good with men. You won't be missing…a thing. Just let me go.”

She pulled out of his arms; he tugged her back. “Who says you're a failure, Anna? The men you weren't interested in, the ones you turned away? Or the ones without the confidence to be gentle, the sensitivity to coax and pleasure?”

She shook her head and pushed against his chest. Rush held her tighter, forcing her to listen. “Why are you running from this? Why not face your fears head-on? The way you face everything else? You're a strong woman, Annabelle Ames. A fighter. Be honest. With me, with yourself. Whatever is between us is strong. If you decide you want to face up to it, you know where to find me.”

Cupping her face in his palms, Rush pressed a quick, hard kiss to her lips, then turned and walked away.

Chapter Seven

A
nna stared after Rush, the blood thrumming crazily through her veins, his words playing over in her mind.

You're a passionate woman. If you want to face up to whatever this is between us, you know where to find me.

Anna squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to. So badly she felt as if she might die from the want. But she was afraid. Of freezing. Of once again proving to herself what a failure she was. Of disappointing
Rush.

She remembered the expression in her fiancé's eyes the first time, recalled every nuance of his reaction when she'd told him about her and her past. Anna shuddered. Would Rush react the same way? She didn't think so, but she didn't think she could bear it if he did.

Anna clasped her trembling hands in front of her, wishing she could slow her frenetic heartbeat and breathe evenly. Wishing she could calmly and coolly reason with herself. But all she could think about was Rush. His hands on her body, his whispered words.
You are a deeply passionate woman, Annabelle Ames. It would be good. Very good.

If only that were true. If only she could be sure.

She'd never felt so strongly about a man. No other man had been able to override her fears with arousal. No other had made her feel safe and womanly.

Maybe this time, she thought, pressing a hand to her chest, to her runaway heart. Maybe with this special man she would finally be a whole woman.

But what if she couldn't go through with it? What would he think of her? How would she stand it? Anna drew in a ragged breath, her head filling with the scent of flowers and warm, wet earth. If only she could be sure it would be different with Rush.

She crossed to the edge of the gazebo and the tangled path beyond. The moon had slipped behind clouds and the way was immersed in darkness. No matter how she strained to see the path's twists and turns, its low-hanging branches or pitfalls, she couldn't.

In the end all she would be able to do was trust her instincts. All she would be able to do was feel her way.

The drumbeat of her heart slowed, deepened, panic being replaced by something heavier, hotter. She couldn't be sure. She could never be sure. Unless…she tried. Unless, as Rush had said, she found the courage to face her fears.

If she didn't face them, she would never know. She would always wonder if Rush would have been the one.

Anna brought a trembling hand to her chest. She couldn't endure that. She couldn't endure a lifetime of wondering, a lifetime of what-ifs.

And her instincts told her this
was
right, that Rush was the right man.

Trust, she told herself, stepping off the gazebo and onto the darkened path. Feel the way.

Anna moved down the tangled, wild path, walking at first, then running. Suddenly, every moment of not knowing, of not being with Rush, seemed an eternity of agony. She had to be with him. She had to know.

Branches caught at her gown; she heard the fabric rip. She stepped on something hard and sharp; she didn't pause. Several times she stumbled, but she righted herself and kept on running.

She had to get to Rush; she had to know.

As she cleared the path just before the overseer's house, the moon broke free of the clouds, illuminating the way, bathing her in its soft but brilliant light. She ran up the cottage steps and let herself inside.

Moonlight streamed through the unadorned windows, painting the interior in pale gold. She found her way easily into the hall, to the first bedroom. The door stood ajar. With the tips of her fingers she pushed it the rest of the way open.

Rush waited for her by the window, backlit by the moon. Anna was struck again by the strength of his silhouette, and by his rugged good looks. She sucked in a quick breath. He was the man she'd always dreamed of.

Rush turned. Their eyes met. He didn't speak, but his gaze seemed to ask if she was sure.

She'd never been so sure of anything.

“I'm glad you came,” he murmured, moving toward her.

She clasped her hands in front of her, fighting for an even breath. “Me, too,” she whispered.

He caught her hands and rubbed them between his. “They're so cold.”

“I'm so afraid.”

“I know.” He brought her hands to his mouth, pressing a kiss to each of her palms. “I'll be very careful,” he murmured. “Very gentle.”

At his touch, tongues of flame licked at the edges of her fear. “I'm afraid I'm going to…disappoint you.”

“You won't.” He drew her farther into the room, stopping when they stood in a patch of the pale gold moonlight.

“But I might…” She worked to form the words. “I might freeze.”

“If you do, we'll work through it.” He trailed his mouth over her cheeks, to her forehead, her eyelids. “I promise, Anna. We'll work through it.”

He seemed unsurprised and unruffled by her admission. Her fear ebbed a fraction more. She shuddered and melted against him. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you so much.”

Her humble words tore at him. What kind of men had she known in the past? Who had treated her with such an absence of care that she thought so little of herself?

He drew away from her and met her eyes. “Do you think I'm so selfless, Anna? Do you think I'm not getting something wonderful from this?”

He could tell from her expression that she didn't, and he muttered an oath. “I want you so much I can't sleep. Can't concentrate.” He pushed the robe from her shoulders. It floated to the floor like a cloud.
“I haven't been able to do much of anything except fantasize about you in my arms, naked in my bed.”

He moved his fingers rhythmically against her exposed shoulders, gentling her, reassuring her. Beneath his fingers, Rush felt her muscles loosening, then liquifying. Anna tilted her head, a small sigh of pleasure slipping past her lips.

He took the opportunity to press a kiss to her warm, satiny throat. The skin there was as soft and white as a magnolia petal, as fragrant as the entire blossom. The scent, at once sweet and potent, filled his head.

“Remember the morning I looked up and saw you standing on the gallery?” he asked against her ear. “You were wearing this gown. It revealed nothing, yet I needed a cold shower that morning and a dozen more since then.” He lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “I should be thanking you, my sweet. I despise cold showers.”

Anna laughed, the sound delicate but full of pure female satisfaction. The sound warmed him, deeply and in a way he'd never experienced before. Cupping her face, Rush caught her mouth in a lingering kiss.

When he ended the kiss, she opened her eyes. They stared at one another for long moments. “You're trusting me with your fears, Anna. With your beautiful body. That's a gift. One to be treasured. I will treasure it. I promise.”

Anna's heart tipped over. No one had ever said such things to her before; no one had ever made her feel special, desirable. And for the first time in her life, she believed she was. For the first time in her life, it felt right, so right, to be with a man.

“Oh, Rush…” Anna drew his head down to hers and caught his mouth, pouring out her appreciation for the man he was, her wonder at the way he made her feel.

At her arousal.

It throbbed through her, warming places that had once been cool, awakening places that had slumbered, dampening places that had once been arid. She clung to him as they kissed, one long, drugging exchange after another.

Through the thin fabric of the gown, she felt the rapid rise and fall of his chest, felt the thunder of his heart. And she felt his arousal. Hard and insistent, it pressed against her, at once exciting and frightening.

Anna drew in a quick breath, her heart beginning to beat unnaturally fast. As if sensing her fears, he murmured sounds of comfort and moved a fraction away from her, giving her space, letting her know that as promised, he would cherish her.

Softly, slowly, Rush moved his hands over her body. His muscles quivered with the effort of holding his passion in check, with the effort it took to keep from tumbling her to the bed and making passionate, demanding love to her.

Instead, he eased her carefully onto the mattress and peeled away her gown. In the moonlight her body gleamed smooth and white and womanly. He moved the flat of his hands ever-so-lightly over her curves, delighting in the way she shuddered and quivered at his touch.

How had he ever thought her plain? he wondered, struck by her beauty. How had he ever thought her sturdy? She was lithe and delicate, her body finely honed from years of physical work. Her breasts were firm, her nipples the color of just ripe strawberries. He took one into his mouth, stroking with his tongue, then gently nipping.

Annabelle arched and cried out. She clutched at him. What was happening to her? she wondered dizzily. She'd never felt this way before, never even imagined she could. She closed her eyes, totally attuned to her body, to her reactions, to Rush's touch.

As he moved his mouth from her breast, her breath shuddered past her lips, leaving her empty until he caught the other one. She filled her lungs again, suspended on an imaginary plane of pure pleasure.

She moved beneath him, rotating her hips in an instinctual invitation. She burned for him to touch her in other, more secret places. She burned to have him inside her.

“Rush…please. I…”

“Okay, baby…hold
on.” He laced his fingers with hers, catching her mouth once more, this time urgently. He kissed her deeply, his skin growing almost unbearably hot under her fingers, the breath heaving from his lungs. Moving fully over her, Rush positioned himself between her legs, his arousal pushing and probing against her.

Anna stiffened as fear washed over her. It stole her arousal; it mocked her for her ridiculous hopes. With the fear came disappointment, cold and bitter and biting.

Anna squeezed her eyes shut and told herself to relax. She worked to find her arousal again, to tune in to the sensations that a moment ago had had her burning to be one with Rush.

They were gone. Extinguished like the flame of a candle in a wind. Anna bit back a cry of frustration and disappointment. She'd been so certain Rush was the one. So certain that…this time she would…

“Anna?” Rush eased off her. “Baby, what's wrong?”

“I can't do this,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes more tightly shut in an attempt to ward off tears. They slipped from them anyway and rolled hotly down her cheeks. “I'm sorry, Rush, I…just… I
can't—”

“Shh. It's okay.” He drew away from her, until he lay on his side just beyond her, propped up on an elbow.

She turned her face from his. “I'm so embarrassed.”

“Don't be.” With his forefinger, he tipped her face gently back to his. “You've done nothing to embarrass yourself.”

“But I… You…” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “This is awful and awkward.”

“Only if you make it so.” Rush sifted his fingers through her silky hair, fanned out across his pillow.

She looked up at the ceiling, her vision blurred by tears. “What happened in your life to make you so wonderful?”

“Me? Wonderful?” He arched his eyebrows in mock disbelief. “I don't think I've ever been called that before.” One corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. “Now `jerk,' that's a different story.”

She shook her head, her tensed muscles beginning to ease. “Uh-uh. I've been with jerks before.”

“You want to tell me about it?”

She hesitated. She did want to tell him; she wanted him to really know her. Needed him to. Her heart began to pound, the old familiar fears and what-ifs pressing in on her.

She began to shake. Rush must have felt it, but he didn't comment. Instead he curved an arm protectively around her.

“You don't have to, Anna.”

Again she thought of taking the coward's way. But she couldn't, she realized. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she did. She shook her head. “I want to tell you.”

“Okay.” He looked into her eyes. “I promise I'll be careful with you. You can tell me anything. I won't judge.”

But would he be repulsed, as Robert had been? Or embarrassed and shamed, as her mother had been?

It didn't matter. She hadn't the ability to either guess his reaction or change it. Telling him was something she wanted to do for herself.

So she did. Simply. Baldly.

“I was raped when I was fifteen.”

She felt Rush stiffen, heard his tightly drawn breath. But he didn't move away from her, didn't try to avoid her eyes when she looked at him. “His name was Lee and he was a couple of years older than me.”

Anna swallowed and shifted her gaze once again to the ceiling, hurtled back to that awful summer day. “His daddy and mine were friends. Sometimes Lee would come over with his father.” She shook her head, lost in the memory. “I had such a big crush on him. I remember spending hours thinking about him, praying that he'd stop by.

“One day when he did, he asked me to go for a walk. I was ecstatic. We walked out into the fields, talking, holding hands. I was so happy because I thought he…liked me.”

Rush muttered an oath and tightened his arm around her.

“Anyway, when we were way out in the fields he started kissing me and…touching me. He was moving too fast and I got scared. I'd never done anything with a boy but kiss. When I tried to push him away he got rough. And angry. He called me terrible names. He slapped me.”

Anna fought to control the tears choking her words, blinding her. “Then, when I tried to run, he pushed me down and…forced himself…inside me. I pleaded with him to…stop, but he…wouldn't.

“One of the worst parts was, Macy started calling for me. I could hear her, could hear the concern in her call. But she…couldn't help me. Lee had his hand over my mouth and…”

Unable to hold back her tears, Anna turned and pressed her face into Rush's chest. “After…he just… walked…away.”