Rose (44 page)

Kase knew he should stop himself, knew he should end the kiss and put aside the temptation she presented, but he could not stop himself any more than a starving man who had been invited to a banquet would deny himself food.

He groaned, half in protest, half in pleasure, when he felt her fingers loosen his waistband and then move down to free the buttons along the front of his pants. His throbbing member came to attention upon release and he heard her gasp when her warm fingertips tentatively touched his smooth, hard flesh.

She clung to him, eyes closed, lips seeking, as he held her there in his arms. Finally resigned to the fact that things had gone too far to be halted, Kase reached out and grasped her ankle, then ran his hand slowly along the gentle curve of her leg and up over the satin smoothness of her thigh until he reached the moist heated nest at the apex of her thighs.

Rosa was afraid to open her eyes for fear of finding that all she was experiencing was a dream, afraid that any moment he would reject her love again. Cradled in Kase’s strong embrace, she willed herself to relax and enjoy the sensations that were building inside her. She dared not think about his family gathered downstairs, or what Analisa or Caleb would say should they walk in and find her on his lap. It was as it had always been with this man; she could deny him nothing.

As he slipped his fingers inside her, Rosa hoped he was preparing the way for his own more intimate entrance. She clung to his neck and pulled herself closer to the throbbing shaft imprisoned between them. His fingers moved faster, his touch became more demanding as he sought to bring her to fulfillment without him.

Rosa groaned and wriggled closer to him. She heard him sigh. When he slowed his ministrations and began to work her pantalets down around her hips and past her thighs, she hid her smile against his lips. Soon now they would be one.

She pulled away and hid her face against his neck. Her breathing was rapid, as ragged as his own. She ran one hand down the front of his shirt. Lower, ever lower, her fingers explored until she came in contact with his shaft again. Rosa took full advantage of his silent consent. With trembling hands, she enfolded his pulsing, hardened member.

When he groaned aloud and breathed her name against her ear, tears welled behind her lowered lids. It was the sweetest sound she had ever heard.

“Please, Kase,” she pleaded softly. “Please love me.”

He carefully raised her heavy skirt until it was gathered about her waist. His hands steady and sure, Kase grasped Rosa by the hips and helped her stand. He turned her until she faced him, then urged her forward, until she straddled him. He closed his eyes as Rosa gently lowered herself, easing him into her honeyed inner depths. He pressed her down until he was sheathed fully inside, then clasped her to him, afraid to move, afraid that he would reach his peak before she had even neared her own.

Rosa kissed him again. As her body quivered in readiness, her mind reeled with the knowledge of what she had done. What they were doing. She turned the thoughts aside and ached for more, longing for the completion she craved, yet savoring every moment. As Kase sat immobile, encased inside her, Rosa realized that he was unable to move and bring her to climax. With her arms locked about his neck, she drew herself upward along his length and heard him catch his breath before she lowered herself again. Two, three, four more times she rose up and thrust downward until she heard his strangled cry.

White heat shot through Rosa as Kase grasped her hips hard, held her immobile and poured himself into her. When she started to cry out in ecstasy, he silenced her with his lips. Still, his precaution could not quell the explosion of release that tore through her.

Kase kissed her slowly, lingeringly, until the inner throbbing subsided. Rosa pulled back and rested her head against his broad shoulder. She gazed up into the crystal blue eyes that stared down into hers, drank in the sight and smell of him, then wet her lips with her tongue and smiled tremulously.

Kase thought she had never looked so beautiful as she did lying satiated and content in his arms.

He released her abruptly and in the most even, unfeeling tone he could manage said, “There’s water in the basin. You’ll want to wash up before you go downstairs.”

Rosa pushed away from Kase and stared at him in disbelief. “But—”

He steeled himself against the slowly building anguish he saw gathering in her eyes. “I’d help you up”—he said coldly—“but as you know, I can’t move.”

She held her breath, her shock a viable thing he could almost feel. Kase began to hate himself for what he had to do.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

“This changes nothing, Rose.”

“You said that I must have a whole man. What we have just done proves to me that you are still a man. There is no need for you to go away.”

“There’s still the fact that I can’t walk. I can’t do even the simplest things for myself. I can’t work; I couldn’t protect you if I had to. You might think this is enough for now, but I don’t want to be around when you start hating me for the limitations I’d put on your life.”

“I care nothing for these things. They do not matter to me.”

“They matter to me. Would you please get up now?”

“Have you not enough love to trust me? I will never stop loving you.”

“That’s easy for you to say now. I’ve made up my mind.”

“You are a
maiale,
a pig. You think only of yourself.”

“Think what you want. Just get out and leave me alone.”

She slapped him as hard as she could. “I hate you.”

His expression was emotionless. “Good.”

Humiliated, Rosa pushed herself up and away from him, then whirled around so as not to have to suffer the look on his face. The hem of her skirt dropped into place; then she nearly tripped over her pantalets as they tangled around her ankles. Her face aflame, Rosa bent and quickly pulled them up. Refusing to face him, she walked to the far side of the room and paused before the washstand.

He watched her walk away before he fastened the front of his trousers. Kase cleared his throat and finger-combed his hair into place. He longed to go to Rosa and hold her, to reassure her that it was best they parted this way—but if he could walk, if he could go to her, there would be no need to hurt her so.

Rosa found herself shaking. She tried to still the shudders that quaked through her, but found it impossible. She could feel him staring at her. Was he looking at her with disgust?

She refused to wash in front of him. There was no way she would humiliate herself any more than she had already. Determined to get out of the room while she still had the strength to do so, Rosa took a deep breath and whirled around.

Kase watched her straighten, tried to gauge her feelings when she turned toward him. His cool rejection had extinguished the glow in her eyes. Not only had the color in her cheeks flared but so had her anger. She was furious.

Good, he thought. Rose was a survivor. Her temper would see her through the next few hours and, he hoped, through the pain she would experience once the numbness left her. He only hoped it would be as easy for him.

With a sure, even stride, she walked to the door. For a moment he thought she might leave him without a word, but then he waited, certain that Rose would insist on having the last word. She proved him correct when she paused with her hand on the doorknob and glared at him.

It was a far different ending from the one she had envisioned on the ride out to the ranch. She watched Kase sit as still as a stone, his hands once again grasping the chair seat. She gave him one final chance to open his heart and his arms to her, but all he did was stare stonily.

“Ciao,
Kase Storm,” Rosa whispered.

Kase watched in silence until Rose was out of the room. Then, with a shaking hand, he lifted the crystal decanter of brandy from the table beside him and poured himself an overflowing glassful.

Rosa found the door to Caleb and Analisa’s room open, so she slipped inside and helped herself to the water pitcher and basin. Once she had sponged away all traces of her encounter with Kase Storm, she pressed a cool, damp cloth against her brow. She stared at her reflection in the mirror above the chiffonier and wondered how she would ever muster the courage to go downstairs and eat dinner. The thought of food made her want to retch.

She was numb. Her feelings had flown along with her self-respect. She had tried and failed, and in doing so had made herself a fool in her own eyes. Moving without thought, she rinsed the washcloth clean, then carried the water basin across the room and set it on the floor while she raised the window. A blast of cold air swirled into the room, hitting her like a slap in the face. She shivered and quickly tossed the water outside, where it landed on the snow-covered porch roof below the window.

She shut out the cold, replaced the bowl and washcloth, and returned to peer into the mirror. The unrelieved black dress was a fitting choice, considering the circumstances; she felt as if someone had just died. Had her wearing black on such a festive day caused her ill luck? Had she gotten up on the left side of the bed? Rosa shrugged, pushed aside the superstitious thoughts that reminded her of Zia Rina, and continued to scrutinize her appearance. Her hair was still tightly wound in the coronet of braids. The cold air had added a spot of color to her pale complexion. She ignored the disbelief in her eyes and the way her lips trembled, and wondered if she would ever look at herself again without seeing an incredibly foolish woman.

Kase did not want her. Nothing she said or did could change the glaring realization she had faced a few moments ago. She had humiliated herself beyond redemption with a man she loved more than life itself. Her rage had peaked. Now she felt nothing.

Without looking back at the mirror, Rosa left the room and went downstairs to join the others. Determined that they would never know the pain she was experiencing, she swore somehow to survive dinner as she had survived every other crisis she had faced. When she was back at the restaurant, secure in the privacy of her own room, then perhaps she might cry and purge herself of Kase Storm. Until then, she refused to let anyone see how very much he had hurt her.

“Rosa, come in. Join us,” Analisa said when she noticed the girl standing uncertainly in the doorway.

They had gathered in the parlor—Quentin, Caleb, Analisa and Zach—to await the outcome of Rosa’s visit with Kase. Now, as they stood expectantly waiting for her to make some comment, Analisa’s heart went out to her. She wondered if Caleb was aware of the ashen pallor of the young woman’s skin or the vacant expression in her eyes. Immediately, Analisa went to Rosa and led her into the parlor.

“Does he want to come down for dinner?” Quentin stood, obviously expecting the answer to be affirmative, ready to go up and help Caleb carry Kase downstairs.

Rosa paused momentarily before she shook her head. Analisa was afraid the girl was about to faint, but then she heard Rosa speak in a voice barely above a whisper. “No. He does not want to come down.”

“I think we ought to bring him down here anyway,” Quentin insisted. “I hate to think of him sitting up there all alone on Christmas Eve. What do you think, Caleb?”

Caleb glanced at Analisa and then shook his head. His face was grim, but his tone was sure. “I know Kase. He won’t change his mind, and he wouldn’t take kindly to our going against his wishes.” He turned back to Analisa, glanced at Rosa, and with a reassuring nod added, “I think we should go on in and eat.”

The table was spread with a veritable Christmas feast. Gilt-edged Haviland china sparkled on an Irish lace tablecloth. Ruby wineglasses added festive holiday color that complemented sprigs of pine spread about the tabletop. Roast goose, stuffing, potatoes, gravy, glazed carrots, Rosa’s tortellini, fresh bread, jams and jellies. Quentin said the blessing, and the serving dishes were passed around the table. Analisa tried to ignore the sadness that lingered on the air. Despite the festive table setting, the delicious food, and good friends gathered together, she missed Kase and his teasing smile. She missed Annika, who should have been with them. Analisa looked around the table and told herself that this crisis would soon pass. Far worse things had happened in her life. She had a loving husband, a beautiful daughter, and a son who had survived a near fatal shooting. She had much to be thankful for. Why, then, did she feel such loss?