The Trouble with Valentine’s (8 page)

‘Here’s the problem,’ said Nick. ‘I’ve never slept in the same bed with a woman and not
slept
with her if you get my meaning. I feel like I should be doing something.’

‘Go to sleep. Think of the wall.’ She, however, would be spending the rest of the night fantasizing about what it was he thought he should be doing.

‘Have
you
ever slept with a man and not slept with him?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’ Did sharing tent space on a camping trip with a nine-year-old brother count? ‘It’s not hard.’

‘Wrong,’ he said. ‘It’s extremely hard. A raiding party would know this already.’

Hallie’s stomach clenched and her toes curled as she tried not to picture in vivid detail exactly which part of Nick was hard. ‘Sending a raiding party over that wall would be suicide,’ she countered.

‘What if I invited you over for peace negotiations?’

‘Hah! I’m not falling for that old trap.’

‘I can’t believe you ever thought this plan was going to work,’ he said as the bottom-most pillow tumbled from the bed.

‘Fine then. I’ll sleep on the floor.’

‘You can’t sleep on the floor. The floor is too hard.’

‘Then go to sleep before I strangle you,’ she yelled. And after a moment’s reflection, ‘You’re deliberately inciting the Mongol horde, aren’t you?’

‘Is it working?’

‘No.’ She punched the pillow at her head until it was shaped to her liking and deliberately turned her back to him. ‘The Mongol horde is wise to your tricks.’

She heard his low sexy chuckle followed by the rustle of sheets.

‘Goodnight, Mrs Cooper.’

And much, much later, when the regular, even rhythm of his breathing told her he’d fallen asleep, ‘Goodnight, Nicholas.’

N
ICK WOKE BEFORE THE
dawn with a sleeping Hallie snuggled tightly into his side. Her head was on his shoulder, her arm was resting on his chest, her legs were entwined with his, and there wasn’t a pillow in sight. What’s more, he noted with no little satisfaction, she was on his side of the bed,
his
, which meant that, technically,
she
was the one doing all the invading. Her body was relaxed, her breathing slow and even. The Mongol horde was vulnerable. Question was; what was he going to do about it?

A gentleman would slide on out of bed without waking her and head for the shower. A rogue would wake her with kisses, drive her to distraction with pleasure and
carry
her to the shower. Tough choice.

He was still debating tactics when he felt her stir.
Her long, smooth legs tangled even more closely with his and her hand traced a leisurely path from his chest to his stomach, sending a shiver of pleasure straight through him. Even in sleep she knew just what to do to get his undivided attention. And then she stopped.

Nick felt her body stiffen, heard her sharply indrawn breath. She was awake.

‘Morning,’ he said huskily, although at this hour, with silvery darkness still enveloping them, that was debatable. She jerked up on one elbow, looked around wildly, and her knee connected with his crotch. ‘Oomf!’ His eyes crossed. His breath left his body. So much for his wakeup-sex fantasy.

‘Sorry,’ she muttered, removing her knee and patting him better abstractedly. ‘What happened to the pillows?’

‘Try the floor,’ he wheezed as the patting continued. Was this heaven or hell? He couldn’t decide. He levered himself up on his elbow and looked over the side of the bed. ‘Yep. There they are.’

‘Oh.’ She stared at him and all of a sudden the hand on his crotch stilled. Nick watched her eyes grow round and her cheeks grow rosy with no little satisfaction.

‘I, ah … I, ah … okay,’ she said weakly. The colour in her cheeks had spread to her chest, her nipples had pebbled against the thin cotton of her singlet. Her eyes were downcast, hiding her expression. But it was her hand that held his attention. Because it hadn’t moved.

‘Possession,’ he murmured, ‘is nine-tenths of the law.’

He was still playing the gentleman, heaven help him he was, but a man could only take so much. She was driving him mad. He couldn’t see her eyes, couldn’t figure what she wanted. He, however, was absolutely certain about what
he
wanted. He put his hand beneath her chin – that determined little chin – and brought her gaze up to meet his. Her eyes widened, there was uncertainty in her eyes and curiosity too; he was used to both from the women who shared his bed, but it was desire he looked for. Desire he found.

His gaze fastened on her mouth as he drew her closer, close enough to bend his head and set his lips to hers, every whisper of a touch, every leisurely rub maddeningly erotic and not nearly enough. He wanted more, demanded it with a nip to her bottom lip so she’d open for him and damn near lost control when she did. He couldn’t get enough of her taste and her texture, couldn’t get
enough of that soft, lush mouth against his own. He broke the kiss with a groan, craving more, much more, and needing to know he could take it. They were breaking all the rules here – he needed to know she was with him. ‘Is this what you want from me, Hallie?’

‘I’m not sure. I think so,’ she whispered, and Nick groaned.

‘“I think so” is not good enough,’ he muttered, even as he slid his hands around her waist and urged her slim body closer, a shiver of response rippling through him as her legs tangled with his and her breasts pressed against his chest. ‘You have to say yes.’

Hallie closed those glorious golden eyes, took her lower lip between her teeth and moved tentatively against him. ‘Persuade me.’

Lord but she was sweet as her hands slid to his shoulders as she rolled with him to the middle of the bed. She wanted him above her but she did not get her way in that. He wasn’t a small man. Better for Hallie to come at him from above – if that was her intent. It did seem to be her intent, if her incoherent little mutterings were any indication. Those tiny gasps of hers that lit his blood and made thinking a challenge.

She was beautifully wanton as she lifted her
arms above her head, helping him to remove her top, and then her hands were on him again as she wrapped her arms around his neck and bent down to deliver another of those soul-stealing kisses. He felt her shudder, felt himself arch up into her, her urgency igniting his own.

He wanted to make sure she was prepared for him - he
always
made sure a woman was ready for him - but with Hallie what he wanted and what he needed were two completely different things. And he needed to be inside her, buried in her up to the hilt; dammit, she drove him to madness. His hands were fast and urgent as he slid her tight little boxers from her body, and then shed his own, his need for her clawing at him as he spread her thighs wide and positioned himself between them. She was so wet and warm and tight.

And she froze.

No!
His soundless roar of protest came from somewhere deep and primitive within. No! He wouldn’t let her stop now. Couldn’t. But he stilled, that much he could do, because they were forgetting things here. Preliminaries. Safety. ‘We can go slow,’ he muttered, knowing even before he heard himself speak that his voice would be harsh and strained.

She pushed herself into a sitting position, her
face flushed and her breath coming fast. ‘I don’t think I can do this.’

‘Really slow,’ he said. And turned his considerable will towards proving that he could.

Gentle, as he cupped her hips and positioned them so that she dragged against him. Slow, as he rocked back and forth, watching, always watching, to see that what he was doing pleased her. And heaven help them both, she was easy to please.

‘Nick, I- Oh …’

He licked at her nipple, flicked his tongue back and forth across that hard little bud. So easy to please, as he grazed her with his teeth and soothed her with his tongue before taking her breast more fully into his mouth and suckling hard. She arched back at that, whimpering her approval before demanding he pay attention to her other breast. He could do that. Did exactly that as his hands skittered down her spine and then she was wresting that breast from him and devouring his lips with her own, each nip, each slide of that clever, honeyed mouth dragging him deeper.

‘Work with me here,’ he muttered, ‘I’m pretty sure I can go slower. You just have to stop kissing me like that.’

‘Oh, my God!’ she said.

He nipped at her jaw, the slender curve of her
neck, the sweep of her shoulder and everywhere he touched she responded with a shudder, a purr, a gasp. He was dizzy with the feel of her, wild with need for her. He slid his fingers between her legs, found her soft and damp as he parted her protective folds to expose her tiny bud and position himself against her more fully. Against but not in, always rocking, always intensifying the sweet slide of skin against skin until her breath came in short, sharp gasps and her eyes turned molten. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her movements grew more frantic. He sucked in his breath as she trailed her hands down his chest to his nipples and stroked them to hardness, carefully passive, and aching with the control it took to stay that way as she moved her hands lower, positioned herself above him and guided him in, a fraction at a time.

That’s when he felt it. A barrier in his way.

No! Surely not. It couldn’t possibly be what he thought it was. Could it? Her eyelashes were shielding her eyes, her brow was furrowed as she focused intently on the task at hand and, dammit, she was chewing on her bottom lip. Oh, no. Please no. ‘You’re not a virgin, are you?’ he asked with an impending sense of doom.

‘Does it matter?’ she said, still trying- unsuccessfully- to accommodate him.

What did she mean, ‘Does it matter?’

‘Of course it matters!’ he roared. ‘Oh hell. You
are
a virgin!’

‘Well, technically, yes,’ she admitted. ‘But I’m not
that
inexperienced. I’ve had sexual relations before.’

‘Don’t you dare bring politics into this conversation,’ he snapped, snatching his hands from her body and pressing them against the bed as he struggled for control. ‘You! A virgin! What next?’

Her eyes narrowed, her chin came up. He loved that look. His
body
loved that look. His body, he thought with increasing alarm, was almost past the point of stopping.

‘Get off,’ he ordered.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ She bit her bottom lip again, pressed down hard, and suddenly, suddenly, he was in.

Her eyes watered, her breath seemed to catch in her throat.

Oh, God! His control was moments away from shattering. She was so hot, so tight, so
wet
. ‘Don’t panic!’ he muttered. ‘We can fix this.’

How on earth were they going to fix this?

Hallie started to giggle.

‘Don’t laugh,’ he ordered. ‘Don’t move!’ If she moved, he was history.

She moved, and so did he, rolling with her, rolling her onto her back and moving over her, into her, his movements carefully restrained as he tried, God help him, to be gentle with her.

She looked up at him then, her eyes dark and slumberous and her lips curved, and he felt her melt into him, felt her body grow accustomed to him, as his strokes grew longer until at last he was sheathed inside her completely. He managed a smile, shuddering with the effort it took to rein himself in. ‘You okay?’ he muttered.

‘Absolutely.’

And then she was threading her hands through his hair and dragging his lips down to hers and he was surging into her, his control a thing of the past. Trying to be gentle with her and not at all sure he was succeeding as he rode out his need for her, his fascination with her, each stroke destroying him, what was left of him, and all around them was the rich scent of sex and the slide of sweat-slicked bodies. His need for her was outrageous, his satisfaction darkly overwhelming as she gave herself over to him, came for him, convulsing around him with a soft, sexy cry that screamed through his senses.

Now. As she cried out again, wrapped her legs around him and urged him deeper.

Now.

Later, much later, he carried her to the bathroom, turned the shower on hot and hard and stood her under the spray, one arm wrapped around her waist to support her. Gentleman or rogue – he figured he had his answer. Figured he was going to have to live with it. ‘Can you stand?’ he asked gruffly.

‘Of course I can stand.’ She pushed his arm away and took a couple of wobbly steps towards the soap. ‘Walking’s the challenge.’

‘Here …’ He adjusted the showerheads so that the water cascaded over them both and handed her the soap. He’d never in his wildest dreams imagined that sassy Hallie Bennett was a virgin. She was twenty-four. What woman in this day and age reached her mid-twenties still a virgin? And why? ‘I, ah, hope you weren’t saving yourself for your future husband,’ he said awkwardly.

‘I wasn’t.’ Hallie’s lips twitched as she started soaping herself down. ‘Don’t panic, Nick. I was a virgin, yes, but I was ready for that to change. I’m not out to trap you.’

That was a relief. Until a new and wholly unwelcome thought occurred to him. Whether she was out to trap him or not, they’d just had unprotected sex. He’d never been so careless with a woman
before. Ever! What if she fell pregnant and had a child? His child. There was no way any child of his was going to grow up without a father and, as far as Nick was concerned, that meant marriage. His blood turned to ice, his breath caught in his throat. What had he done?

‘Are you okay?’ she asked him. ‘You don’t look so good.’

‘I, ah, guess it’s unlikely you were protected against pregnancy, what with you being a virgin and all.’ He was being wildly optimistic, he knew he was, but he clung to that slim thread of hope the way a shipwrecked sailor clung to a life raft.

‘Actually, I
am
protected,’ she said. ‘That’s something we don’t have to worry about.’

The breath left his body in a whoosh. Regular breathing resumed.

‘Call it a complete stab in the dark,’ said Hallie dryly, ‘but I’m guessing marriage and children aren’t on your to-do list.’

‘I, uh …’ He was still recovering, still trying to regroup. ‘No, they’re on the list,’ he said at last. ‘They’re just not at the
top
of the list at this point in time.’

‘Ah.’ She smiled. ‘Good to know.’ And from beneath lowered lashes, ‘For what it’s worth, I think you’re an incredible lover. I’m glad you were
my first.’ Then she lifted her face to the water and put her hands to her hair in a move so innately sensual he felt the force of it like a punch to his stomach.

Definitely not part of the plan, he thought as he dragged her up against him with a muffled curse. And took her again.

Nick soaped up beneath the spray as Hallie stepped from the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. She slid him a dreamy smile, followed up with a stern warning for him to keep his distance. Not a problem, he thought wryly, because, frankly, he was spent.

Lovemaking had always been a pleasurable pastime for Nick. Sometimes it was slow and lazy, sometimes quick and playful. This time had been different. This time his climax had ripped through him like a tornado, leaving him dazed and shaken. And worried.

So what if she was a generous lover?

So what if towards the end there he’d hardly known who or where he was, only who he was with? It wasn’t as if he’d found The One. Hell, he was only thirty; he was far too young for that. He had years and years left before
that
happened.

Yeah, whispered his brain. Years and years of
mediocre sex that will never
ever
measure up to what you’ve just experienced with one Hallie Bennett.

‘No,’ he said fiercely.

Oh yeah, throbbed his heart. Years and years spent searching for another Titian-haired, golden–eyed witch whose smile warms you through and whose kisses make your soul tremble.