Morgan's Son (39 page)

As if sensing her presence, Craig turned.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, walking toward him. Sabra had deliberately left her robe behind. The V-cut gown barely hid the swell of her breasts, and she wanted him to take notice of her. Judging from the narrowing of his eyes as he straightened and faced her, her plan was working.

"I was unpacking," Craig said, distracted. The silk gown shimmered in the room's low lighting, and Sabra moved like a graceful ballerina, each sway of her body flowing into the next movement. Her thick hair had been brushed until it shone, draping around her proud shoulders. The look in her eyes was unmistakable—a smoldering glow for him alone. Groaning inwardly, Craig tried to put a check on his desire. It was impossible.

"Why are you unpacking your stuff in here?" she asked, reaching out, sliding her arms around his shoulders.

"This is the bedroom I chose," he said. Sabra's touch was electrifying. He slipped his arms around her waist and drew her against him, seeing her lips part provocatively. She tilted her chin upward just enough so that he could kiss her if he wanted to. He wanted that and more.

"I thought," Sabra murmured, leaning forward and moving her lips against the line of his mouth, "we agreed to sleep together from tonight on?"

It was hell trying to think coherently beneath her gentle assault. He felt the soft, sliding movement of the silk between them, the warmth of her loving body pressing against him, of her lips teasing his. Gripping her shoulders, he eased her away.

"I think we said we'd discuss it," he rasped. An ache filled him and a hot, burning sensation flowed through his lower body. He inhaled her fragrance, wondering if she'd used gardenia soap on her peach-soft flesh.

The corners of her mouth lifted slightly. "Craig, there's no discussion on this. We're sleeping together. That's what I want. It's what you want."

Worriedly, he rasped, "I'm afraid for you—"

"I'm not," Sabra whispered, nibbling at his lower lip, feeling him harden against her belly. She tightened her arms around his neck, closed her eyes and moved her lips across his.

Groaning, Craig gripped her to him. The roundness of her breasts pressed against his chest; the slickness of her lips molded to his and, with the heat of her supple body, conspired against him.

"Love me…" Sabra whispered against his questing mouth. "Love me, please…." She felt him tense for a split second, then, to her delight and surprise, he lifted her off her feet and into his arms. His stormy blue eyes were hungry—for her. She sighed and rested her head against his. "Take me to
our
room."

Hesitantly, Craig glanced around the master bedroom and then down at her sultry, half-closed eyes. "So much for our discussion," he rasped thickly, a hint of a smile on his mouth.

"I love you," Sabra said, running her fingers through his recently washed hair.
"I need you…."

The words fell across him like fire. He walked down the hall to their bedroom, a smaller room with a queen-size bed in it. As he entered, Craig saw that Sabra had lit some candles on the dresser, their light reflecting in the mirror behind them. With his foot, he gently shut the door.

"You're a woman with a purpose," he teased as he laid her on the pink silk coverlet of the bed, where the soft light glimmered on her features.

"And you don't mind?"

Craig stretched out next to her, reveling in the feminine strength of her body. "No…not really. I guess I'm not used to it, that's all." He smiled a little. "But I'll get used to it."

She sighed and reached up, framing his face between her hands. "With you," she murmured, "I had to use my sharpest tactics and strategy skills to get you to realize I'm well."

Running his hand up her long thigh, the silk warm and sleek beneath his fingertips, he shrugged. "I guess my mind knows it…."

"Your heart doesn't."

"No." He leaned over, sliding his arm beneath her neck and gently cradling her against him. "I feel like a man who got his only wish in the world. Now that I have it, I'm afraid of losing it."

"I understand," Sabra whispered, stretching up and claiming his set mouth. "Let's make tonight a new start for both of us, darling." She felt Craig's hands tightening around her, felt his hand move upward to cup her breast beneath the silk. Heat purled through her, and her voice dropped to a husky whisper. "We love each other. That's all that matters. I don't want to spend one more night without your arms around me, Craig. Please…."

Her plea tore at him as nothing else could. In that moment, with Sabra in his arms, her lips resting teasingly against his mouth, he realized the depth of her commitment to him. "It won't be easy," he warned gruffly, easing her onto her back.

"What won't be easy?" She trailed her hand downward across his flat, hard belly, tracing the line of his pajama bottoms across his hips. She saw his eyes go thundercloud dark, felt his hand stop caressing the side of her breast.

Craig couldn't think any longer, nor could he talk. Sabra's body was like a branding iron, moving ceaselessly against him like the rhythm of an ocean tide. Her fingers eased the fabric away from his hips, and he stiffened as she slid her fingers downward to caress him. Gripping her shoulder, he groaned. Whatever worry, whatever concerns about her injury he'd had, melted beneath her exquisite exploration. All he could do was tense beside her, lost in a storm of electric sensation, drowning in the desire to make her his.

Candlelight suffused the room, flowing across her shoulders and face, revealing her inner and outer beauty. He eased his hand beneath the silk nightgown, drawing it upward, pulling it off her so that she lay naked before him. How vulnerable she looked—with such trust in her eyes as she met and fearlessly held his gaze. Her flesh was hot and demanding. Her lips parted, silently begging him to continue his exploration. At the same time, he felt the cloth he wore being pulled away, and he pushed the pajamas aside. Gazing at her intensely, as if she were his quarry, Craig entangled her legs with his own. Sliding his hand beneath her hip, he eased her on top of him. He saw surprise and then pleasure in her shadowed eyes, which now burned with longing. Trembling with need, he tried to hold himself in check as he positioned her above him. This way, he wouldn't accidentally put too much pressure on her recently healed neck wound. This way he could watch her every fleeting expression, like a greedy man too long without sustenance, too long without love.

As she settled over him, he groaned. The moistness met his hardness, and he gripped her hips, pulling her down upon him even more. He heard a soft gasp escape her, felt her hands grip his arms in instant reaction. Her thighs tightened against him, and he smiled to himself, savoring the melting fire of making her one with him. There was such power in claiming her, in easing into her depths and feeling her heat as she moved with abandoned pleasure.

Like the ceaseless ocean tide, he felt her rocking against him, in perfect rhythm. Whatever worry he'd had was burned away in the molten flames of their joining. The slickness of her body met and matched his and he thrust more deeply into her, hearing her soft cry of joy. Moments glided into one another, like hot wax pooling at the base of a candle flame. Closing his eyes, his teeth clenched with the effort of holding back, Craig brought Sabra into a fast, frantic union with him. Each sliding movement, each explosion heat from the friction between them heightened the pleasure.

He felt her fingers tense and release rapidly against his arms, and he gripped her hips more firmly, thrusting hard and deep into her. The intense explosion within her translated to him, and he felt her stiffen and throw back her head, her hair flying out across her shoulders and back. In those fiery moments, with Sabra a part of him, Craig had never felt stronger as a man, or more in control of his destiny. He moved again, prolonging the pleasure of her climax, and watched as a rosy flush swept up her glistening body. Only then did he release the hold on his own desires. Only then did he give her the gift of himself.

Sabra moaned softly as she collapsed against Craig, her head next to his on the pillow. His breath intermingled with her own, and she closed her eyes and slid her arm across his damp chest. "I love you so much," she said tremulously.

Craig slipped his hand across her back, slick and warm from their lovemaking. "Sweetheart, I'm the luckiest bastard on this planet." He kissed her cheek and saw her lashes flutter open. His smile was male. "I've got you. That's all I'll ever need…ever want." He slid his fingers across her flushed cheek and held her drowsy gaze. "Come on," he rasped, "let's go to sleep. I want to hold you in my arms all night and wake up tomorrow morning to find you beside me."

Sabra smiled weakly as he readjusted her at his side. The sensation of fire still burned brightly within her, and she felt deliciously consumed by it. How wonderful a lover Craig was. Did he know that? Had any woman ever shared that knowledge with him? As she eased beneath the covers, then snuggled against him, she promised to tell him that tomorrow morning, over breakfast.

The candles would burn out on their own, and Craig was content to have the low light dancing in soft, muted shadows on their bedroom walls. Sabra was damp against him, and he pulled the covers up to her shoulders, his arm around her to keep her close. As he shut his eyes and settled down with her at his side, his mind refused to work any longer. Exhaustion pulled at him. Before he plunged into a deep, healing sleep with the woman he loved at his side, Craig realized that no matter what lay ahead of them, they could triumph together. Sabra gave him hope—for himself, for a future he once had thought would never be his. Her love for him was as strong and unerring as she was. Silently, Craig promised her that no matter how dark it got for him in the future, no matter how he had to wrestle with his past to heal, he would do so—not only for himself, but for her. She'd had the courage to reach out and tell him of her love. He could do no less for her.

As he felt her soft breath against his chest, Craig sighed, feeling the last of the tension flowing out of him. Somehow, he knew that tonight there would be no nightmares. They were as safe as possible under the circumstances.

In the weeks ahead, Craig knew, there would be continued danger and tension, until they were able to rescue Morgan. If it could be done, and if he could be brought home safely, then Ramirez would probably cease his hunt for them. For now, their future was clouded with danger, and each day was going to be a miracle. No matter what happened, Craig knew life was worth living again as long as they had each other. He would love Sabra forever.

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