Men of Intrgue A Trilogy (51 page)

“Now, first things first.” He tugged at the nightgown again. Karen sat back, lifting it to her thighs and then crossing her arms and pulling it over her head. She held one arm behind her back and let it drift to the floor.

Colter’s eyes moved over her, drinking in her beauty. She was next to him on the couch, sitting on her haunches in the firelight. Dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, contrasting vividly with her ivory skin. Her body was half in shadow, but he could make out the swell of rose tipped breasts and the slim curve of her hips. He reached out to touch a smooth pale thigh and Karen caught her breath.

“You are so lovely,” he whispered.

He put his arm around her middle and pulled her toward him, kissing the petal soft skin at the juncture of her breasts. Karen held his head against her and arched her back, thrusting forward to seek his mouth.

Colter moved and took a nipple between his lips, sucking gently. Karen moaned and then looked down, watching him as a wave of longing engulfed her. He was flushed, as if with fever, and his eyes were closed, the better to lose himself in the luxurious sensation. His thick sandy lashes lay on his cheeks and his hair fell in careless strands across his forehead. She felt his large hands encircle her waist and hold her steady as he increased the pressure of his mouth. She bent like a willow, ever closer to him, gasping as his teeth grazed her, heightening her sensitivity almost to the point of pain.

He pulled back abruptly and she whimpered, following after him. He caught her and eased her downward until her back touched the mattress, and then loomed over her, tracing the line of her breasts with his hand. His touch was deliberately light, drifting, and she yearned toward him, unconsciously asking for more. He caressed her lower body, sculpting the long muscles of her thighs, and her legs fell apart in response. Making a low sound deep in his throat he bent and pressed his cheek to her abdomen, and Karen started at the contact with his fiery skin.

“Relax,” he murmured. “Just let go, and let me love you.” He was finding it difficult to hold back, but he paused until he could feel the tension lessen in her body as he held her.

“That’s good,” he whispered. “That’s fine.” He dragged his lips slowly over the satiny surface of her belly. “You’re like silk, all over.” He put his tongue into her navel and she bit back a cry, covering her mouth with her hand. Then it fell away in abandonment as his mouth created a heated path that cooled the instant he moved on, making her writhe in frustration.

“What?” he muttered. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” she moaned.

“I do,” he said hoarsely. He slipped his hands beneath her hips and lifted her to his mouth.

The sensation was so exquisite that Karen couldn’t make a sound. She held her breath as he caressed her, curling one hand in the sheet that lay twisted under them, digging the fingers of the other hand into his hair. He drove her to a mounting frenzy and then lifted his head when she clawed at his shoulder, trying to pull him up to her.

“You want me?” he said softly, kissing the smooth surface of her left hip.

Karen nodded wordlessly.

He moved over her for the first time and embraced her fully, twining his fingers with hers and pinning her arms above her head.

“You sure?” he whispered, lifting himself on his elbows and gazing down into her eyes.

Karen turned her head. “You tease me,” she whispered.

“No, baby,” he replied huskily, kissing her lightly on the mouth. “Waiting makes the pleasure sweeter.”

“Enough,” she gasped as he relaxed and she felt the length of his body pressed to hers. “Take me now.” She shifted her legs restlessly, trying to force him into position.

He remained immobile, watching her with an intensity that bespoke his true feelings.

Karen put her head down against the pillow and gazed up at him, at the pale eyes that seemed to fill the world. His skin was misted with a fine dew of perspiration, and her fingers glided across the slick muscular surface of his back as she urged him closer. Acting purely on instinct, Karen reached down and enclosed him with her hand, feeling his pulse of life respond to her caress.

He gasped and shut his eyes. “You win,” he said hoarsely. He molded her to him and Karen surged against him. The movement thrust her shoulder into the wound on his chest.

Colter grunted and stiffened, rolling off her. Karen clasped both hands to her mouth in horror, staring at him. The silence was awful. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and he bit his lip with the effort of staying silent.

“My God, Steven, are you all right?” Karen wailed, when she had found her voice. She felt like crying. “We shouldn’t have done this. I told you it was too soon.”

She moved to rise and his hand shot out, grasping her wrist in an iron grip that belied his injury.

“No,” he said fiercely. “Don’t stop now.”

“But we can’t,” she protested.

“Come on to me,” he said urgently, drawing her toward him. “Come on.” She realized that he wanted her to take charge, make love to him.

“Please,” he rasped.

Karen crawled back into his arms, careful not to touch his chest. “I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you again,” she whispered.

He ran his hands down her back, pulling her across his thighs. She felt his muscles tense to receive her and the friction of his leg hair against her bare skin.

“You won’t,” he answered, drawing her closer. He put his face against her breasts and held her tightly, then slipped his hands beneath her, guiding her onto him. An involuntary sound escaped his lips as she enclosed him and he threw his head back, exhaling sharply. Karen fell forward onto his shoulder and neither of them stirred for a long moment, lost in the intense pleasure of their union.

“You can’t imagine how you feel to me,” Colter finally murmured, lifting her damp hair and kissing her neck tenderly. “No matter what happens, I’ll never forget this night.”

Karen’s eyes misted, blurring her vision. He always talked as if all they could share was memories.

“I’m not going to move,” she whispered. “I want to stay like this forever.”

“Move, please,” he groaned, gripping her hips and lifting her. “I’m dying.”

Karen put her hands on his upper arms to steady herself, and they were rigid, tensed powerfully, expectantly. He held her gaze with his and guided her in a pace that soon had her breathless, frantic. Suddenly he held her still and arched her backward. Karen trembled as he thrust upward and she felt him move more deeply inside her.

He pulled her down to him and kissed her wildly, tangling his fingers in her disordered hair. For the first time he seemed to be out of control, and Karen was exhilarated by her effect on him. She pulled back and he let her go reluctantly, watching with intoxicated eyes as she sat astride him, taking his face in her hands.

“Has it ever been like this for you before?” she asked, running her thumbs over his lips, his bearded cheeks.

He closed his eyes. “No.” The word was barely audible, an admission.

She bent and kissed him again, gently. “I understand, Steven. You don’t have to say anything more.”

He lay back and allowed her to continue, but they were both too carried away by their mutual ardor to last much longer. Impelled by Colter’s forceful hands on her hips, Karen drove them to a frenzied completion, and then collapsed against him, spent.

There was no sound in the room for a long while except their breathing gradually returning to normal, and the hiss and crackle of the fire.

“Hmm,” Colter finally said drowsily, “did I underestimate you.”

“I hope that’s a compliment.”

“It certainly is. When you told me two years, I thought I was really in trouble....”

She jabbed him in the ribs.

“But you did very well.”

“I surprised myself. With Ian, it was a lot different.”

“Your husband, you mean?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“No fire, huh?” he said.

“No. No fire.”

“Well, we may have our problems, but that’s not one of them,” he said quietly, kissing her temple. Then he asked, “Were you with anyone else before your husband?”

“Never.”

“So you were disappointed with him?” Colter persisted.

Karen shrugged within the confines of his arms. “I had no basis of comparison. I’m not sure that I felt I lacked anything, but I always wondered if there wasn’t something...”

“More?” he suggested.

“Yes, that’s right. More.”

“And now you know,” he said. There was a long pause, and then he added, “The only problem is that sometimes you can strike sparks with the wrong person.”

“Steven Colter, if you start that now I swear I will do something violent. I’m too happy for that lecture tonight,” Karen said firmly.

He fell silent. Karen listened to the rustle of the fire for a while and then said, “I didn’t mean that you couldn’t talk at all.”

He sighed. “What would you like to hear?”
 

“Something that won’t spoil the mood.”

“Fairy tales?”

She twisted around to look at him. “That isn’t funny.”

He kissed her brow. “I’m sorry.”

She studied him until he said, “What are you thinking?”

“I was remembering the first time I saw you, in Almeria.”

He grunted. “Not exactly like meeting at a garden party, was it?”

“I was afraid of you.”

“I guess that’s not too surprising,” he conceded, “considering the circumstances.”

“I thought for a minute that you were with them, the rebels.”

He snorted mirthlessly. “Not much real difference between us when you get right down to it. Which side you’re on doesn’t matter a whole lot in the end.”

Karen sat up and he reached for her as she left his embrace.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To put some more fuel on the fire,” she replied. Retrieving her nightgown from the floor, she pulled it over her head and padded barefoot to the fireplace to add several logs to the dwindling blaze. It smoked, then shot up, and she waited until it was burning steadily before returning to him and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“What is it?” he asked quietly, touching her shoulder. “Something’s wrong.”

Karen shook her head.

“Come on. Tell Uncle Steven all about it.”

“Why did you say that you were a gun for hire,” she blurted, “working for anyone who would pay you?”

His hand fell away and he turned his head. “Because it’s the truth.”

“No, it’s not. Linda told me that you’re a rescue expert brought in to break up hostage situations, like you were in Almeria.”

He didn’t answer for a moment, then said, “Who’s Linda?”
 

“My friend from Government House; she worked there with me.”

“Oh, the British gal.”

“Yes.”

“And how does she know so much?”

“She has her sources. Was she correct?”

He shrugged negligently. “It’s all in the way you look at it. I’m still hiring myself out, right?”

Karen folded her arms in annoyance. “Why do you persist in describing your life in the worst possible terms? It’s like you’re attempting to drive me away, or something.”

“Could I?” he asked, watching her carefully.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Karen said patiently. “Why didn’t you tell me the whole story?”

“Because you’re trying to make me out to be something I’m not!” he replied angrily, rolling away from her. “You don’t want to face the fact that you’re sleeping with a mercenary, so you’re changing everything around in your mind to fit a prettier picture. I’m not Lancelot rescuing Guinevere from the stake or St. George slaying the dragon. I’m a man who takes money to do a job, and that’s all. The Lone Ranger rode off into the TV sunset a long time ago, Karen; there are no more white hats.”

She was silent for several seconds, then said softly, “I don’t want to fight.”

He rolled over onto his back and looked up at her, reaching out and running a strand of her hair through his fingers. “Neither do I.”

“I want us to be close.”
 

“We are,” he answered quietly. “You don’t get any closer than we just were.”

Karen shook her head. “No, I mean emotionally. Like friends.”

He dropped his hand. “I guess I don’t know how to do that.”

She smiled slightly. “It’s easy.”

“Not for me.”

“I’ll show you.”

He had to smile too. “Okay, show me.”

She leaned forward eagerly, moving the sheet aside and taking his big hand in both of hers. “Well, the first thing is to share confidences. You tell me things, and I tell you.”

He was looking very suspicious but he said, “All right. What do you want to know?”

“Tell me what it’s like to be shot.”

His brow furrowed. “Why do you want to know that?”

“I’ve never been shot.”