Read What the Waves Bring Online
Authors: Barbara Delinsky
What the Waves Bring (13 page)
“Shall I give you a taste of your own medicine?” he teased.
The flames of desire had risen once more. April struggled to move under him, but his body's weight held her still. “You wouldn't ⦔
“Oh, yes, I would.” And he did, clamping his lips over hers to stifle her protest as his hands wreaked havoc with her senses, playing, taunting, brushing, coaxing, then holding back again and again until her fevered pitch had her begging for release. When it came, it was sweet and rich, filled with a love she knew he had to share.
No man
could make such magnificently gentle, coaxing, caring love to a woman without loving her in the bargain. It just didn't happen. It was impossible!
No man
could make such magnificently gentle, coaxing, caring love to a woman without loving her in the bargain. It just didn't happen. It was impossible!
Such were her thoughts as slowly, slowly their shared glimpse of ecstasy faded to a beautiful memory. Nestled against his warmth once more, she could hold back no longer. “I love you,” she whispered against the beat of his heart, then raised her head. “I love you, Heath.”
For an instant of time, all was suspended. Heath looked at her; she returned his gaze. When she mouthed the words a third time, the limbo snapped. The chill that
slowly filled his body with its tension seeped inexorably to her bones. Lifting herself higher above him, her stunned gaze watched the sobering of his features, which had been so gentle, so loving moments before. Had she been wrong, after all? Had she misinterpreted the intensity of this man's passion?
slowly filled his body with its tension seeped inexorably to her bones. Lifting herself higher above him, her stunned gaze watched the sobering of his features, which had been so gentle, so loving moments before. Had she been wrong, after all? Had she misinterpreted the intensity of this man's passion?
“No, April. You don't!” His lips finally moved, but not to say the words for which she had hoped. It was as though he had issued a command, one she couldn't obey.
The midday's light fell through the window to cast a pearly sheen to her breasts as she sat fully up. “I love you, Heath. I won't take it back. I mean every word.”
April had never seen a form as dark and brooding as Heath's now, sitting up to face her. His body, too, was lit more fully, as breathtaking to the eye as it was tempting to the fingertips. But she curled her fingers into tight fists.
“How can you say you love me, when you don't know who I am?”
“I know youâ”
“You know Heath, a man who has lived on this earth for a mere three days. What about the other man, April? What about Evan? He's been the one who has lived within this body for nearly forty yearsâ”
“Thirty-nineâ”
“Ach! Which does it matter!” His eyes were dark; before them, she was paralyzed. “You've fallen in love with a vision. Oh, yes, a very solid body. That's here. But how can you love a person whose mind is ⦠gone ⦔ As she shook her head in mute denial, he raged on, his anger snowballing quickly. “You don't know
me; I
don't know
me
! Jane was right; you are infatuated!”
me; I
don't know
me
! Jane was right; you are infatuated!”
“No! No, Heath! I think I'm experienced enough to know the difference.” Her anger and frustration suddenly vied with his. “I don't need to know about the trappings of your lifeâthe job you have, the place you live in, the car you drive, the restaurants you eat atâto love you.
Don't you see?” She verbalized her thoughts as they suddenly crystallized. “I see you, the man. Totally aside from those other things, you are warm and intelligent, gentle and capable. And,” she said, her eyes narrowing with a courage that had never been called from her depths before, “I think you love me! That”âshe pointed to the rug on which they had so recently lainâ“was not just a physical thing. Or,” she whispered, her voice lowering in fear, “was it?”
Don't you see?” She verbalized her thoughts as they suddenly crystallized. “I see you, the man. Totally aside from those other things, you are warm and intelligent, gentle and capable. And,” she said, her eyes narrowing with a courage that had never been called from her depths before, “I think you love me! That”âshe pointed to the rug on which they had so recently lainâ“was not just a physical thing. Or,” she whispered, her voice lowering in fear, “was it?”
Avoiding the challenge, he stood and began to reach for his clothes. As each part of his body was taken from her view, she grew more and more apprehensive. When his hands whipped the shirttails into his jeans, and zipped and snapped them with awful finality, she could take no more.
“Was it?” she screamed, her eyes filling with tears.
He stood before her then, hands on hips, feet spread apart. He was her master, looking down at her from his awesome height. She suddenly felt as naked as she was, and crossed her hands over her breasts as she knelt on the floor, so far below.
“I think we've both been carried away ⦠with the time, the weather, the seclusion of this house, the fact of my mental isolation. I think ⦠I think ⦔ He faltered, oddly vulnerable. April's hopes lifted; was he about to confess his feelings? “I think ⦠that ⦔ His voice was controlled once more, and quiet. “That you'd better get dressed.”
With that, he turned and walked toward her Apple. “April, would you mind if I use your machine for a while? I'd like to plug into your Source again.”
It was as though, given his cordial tone, none of the past passion and dissent had ever been. Stunned, April stared at him open-mouthed. He looked at her then, seeing past her.
“I think it's about time we try to verify something about this Harley Evan Addison.”
She took a deep, deep breath. “That's fine.” It came out as a feeble croak. “Do you remember how toâ”
“Yes. I can do it.”
April turned away from him to dress, the process slowed by the strange weakness that permeated her body. With her back to Heath and her mind in utter turmoil, she was oblivious to the tall form, standing immobile before the machine, head bowed, in his own private torment. When he straightened and walked back to her, there was an element of sadness in his step. Hair rumpled, hands in pockets, face dark and pained, he was the image of the man to whom April's compassion would always go. Just as she had rescued him from Ivan's wrath, so she would have harbored him now, had she known of his inner storm. But her back was to him. And the words he had to speak evoked not compassion, but a deep, searing pain.
He cleared his throat to get her attention. “April, I have to ask you.” He paused, raking his fingers through the thickness of his hair. “We've made love too many times for me not to ⦠worry.” She avoided his gaze, merely listened to his struggles as she fought her own churning stomach. “Are you ⦠is it ⦔
He didn't have to finish the thought for her to understand. Eyes of hollow brown lashed toward his, as she bolted upright to button her slacks and pull the sweater over her head. “If you're asking me,” she got out, managing to override the knot in her throat, “whether I'm
protected,
Heath, the answer is yes. But, I'll have you know,” she said softly, looking the distance up at him, defiant in her resolve even as she was intimidated by his stature, “that I'd just as soon forget it. I don't care if Iâ”
protected,
Heath, the answer is yes. But, I'll have you know,” she said softly, looking the distance up at him, defiant in her resolve even as she was intimidated by his stature, “that I'd just as soon forget it. I don't care if Iâ”
His hands shook her shoulders once, leaving the words unspoken for the moment. “Then,
I'll
have to make sure you don't get pregnant. And there's only one truly safe way ⦔ His hands fell from her shoulders with reluctance, and he took a step back, as though burned.
I'll
have to make sure you don't get pregnant. And there's only one truly safe way ⦔ His hands fell from her shoulders with reluctance, and he took a step back, as though burned.
The void within April was suddenly riddled with ricocheting darts of anguish. Doubling over, she sank back onto the sofa, burying her face in her hands, as her gasps reverberated through the room. “Is it that distasteful,” she winced, eyes brimming with tears, “the thought of my carrying your child?” To her it was a glorious idea, second only to the hope that Heath might, in fact, love her.
With the dark groan at the back of his throat, they were back where they had started earlier when he had returned to the room, to find her in tears. Used to her strength, he was vulnerable to her tears. After a moment's hesitancy, he sat down beside her. His hand stroked the silken mane of her hair; his voice was mercifully gentle.
“God, no, April. That wasn't what I meant at all. In another time and place, had we met with none of this mystery haunting us, I would have wanted nothing more than that.” He reached to cover the hands that now subconsciously protected her stomach. “The thought of your being pregnant by me is almost as beautiful as ⦠as what we shared a little while ago.” Without quite acknowledging that extra special something, he had given it credence in April's seeking heart. For the moment, it was all he could give; she had to accept that. “But, darlin', don't you see? Living as we are, right now, with my life a giant puzzle,
I'm not free
. Until I find outâand rememberâwho I am, I'm not free to love either you
or
a child that might be.” He paused to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. With his thumb, he took her chin and turned her face to his. “Does that make any sense?”
I'm not free
. Until I find outâand rememberâwho I am, I'm not free to love either you
or
a child that might be.” He paused to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. With his thumb, he took her chin and turned her face to his. “Does that make any sense?”
At that moment, April had never felt as close to a human being as she felt to Heath. Looking into his eyes, so dark and bottomless, feeling the intensity of him as it reached out to corral her senses, she understood. “I don't like it,” she whispered, “but it does make sense.” Her eyes traced the structure of his face, adoring its every line. “It's ironic ⦔
“What is?” His voice was as low as hers, as quietly personal.
“When you first woke up here and I ⦠and we ⦔ She blushed self-consciously. “And there was this attraction between us, I thought that everything would be fine once we learned who you were.” She frowned. “It's not as simple as that, is it?”
His answer was a reluctant headshake. “I'm afraid not.” He tucked his hand around her neck. “The only thing that's simple is this ⦔ He kissed her gently. “ ⦠And the times I hold you in my arms.” Noticeably, he did not do so now. “But I can make no promises. Not yet, April. Can you accept that?”
So there was hope, after all! With hope, she could live. A budding light rekindled the amber flames in her eyes. “I can ⦠for now. But ⦠I make no promises, either.”
Puzzlement drew his dark eyebrows together. “What promises?”
“To borrow
your
lines,” she explained, emboldened by his openness and fully serious, “when I want to touch you, I intend to. If I want to kiss you, I will.”
your
lines,” she explained, emboldened by his openness and fully serious, “when I want to touch you, I intend to. If I want to kiss you, I will.”
The corner of his firm lips quirked as Heath recalled his erstwhile declaration, plus another. Pulling himself up straight, he mirrored her sober intent. “Then I'll have to be a conscience for us both.” He shook his head. “I don't know, April. Are you always this forward with men, or do you save it for the shipwrecked ones?”
Stopping to examine her behavior of the entire day, April was shocked herself. “You must have brought a strange virus with you from the sea. It seems to be affecting my better judgment. Certainly my sense of propriety!” She grinned sheepishly, color slowly returning to her cheeks in a healthy pink tinge.
“You look pretty ⦔ he murmured, eyeing her clothes as well as her face.
“Well, Harley Evan Addison, I couldn't very well let
some blond-haired professor make
me
look like the castaway, could I?”
some blond-haired professor make
me
look like the castaway, could I?”
Heath smiled knowingly. “That, sweet April, could never happen.” His gaze glittered over her lips a final time, before he forced himself from his seeming trance, blinking and clearing his throat. “Ah ⦠I'd better get to work. See what your machine has to say about this strange person I'm supposed to be!”
It was relatively easy and reasonably enlightening. There was, indeed, a Harley Evan Addison, named periodically in
The Washington Post
, as participating in one international conference or another during the past year.
The Washington Post
, as participating in one international conference or another during the past year.
“Looks like you've been involved in your share of diplomacy.” April delivered this on-the-spot commentary from a point in the vicinity of his right shoulder, a point with the advantage of serving up the clean, manly scent of him in tantalizing doses.
“Mmmm. Mostly in the Far East and the Soviet Union,” he mused, preoccupied. “The SALT talks ⦠Russia ⦔ His tongue explored the words as his mind searched for familiarity.
April urged him on. “You've only gone back a year. Try some more. See what the papers have to say for another year or two before.”
“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” He paused, throwing a sidelong glance of wry amusement her way.
She grinned openly. “It's like putting together a puzzle, piecing together a life. It's not every day that a person gets to learn about himself in retrospect!”
“Hmph.” He grimaced his agreement. “That's for sure. And I'm not sure I recommend it. The suspense is devastating.”
This time, her grin was more coy. “You don't look terribly devastated. Devastating, but not devastated! And really, Heath, you have to be pleased!” She poked at his ribs in a bid for a smile. “You should feel proud; it seems
you are a pretty well-respected fellow. I mean, to be named to governmental commissions right and left, to receive presidential appointments, to travel all over the world like that ⦠Helsinki, Bonn, Cairo, the Hague ⦔
you are a pretty well-respected fellow. I mean, to be named to governmental commissions right and left, to receive presidential appointments, to travel all over the world like that ⦠Helsinki, Bonn, Cairo, the Hague ⦔
“
You've
traveled ⦔
You've
traveled ⦔
“Not like
that,
I haven't! Whew, imagine the responsibility ⦔
that,
I haven't! Whew, imagine the responsibility ⦔
“Mmmm. Okay, let's go on.” He was more cautious than she, undaunted by the facts as they seemed to emerge. When the Source brought forth media references to honorary degrees and further governmental involvement, he took it in stride. But when the five-year point was reached and the news of that year regarding Harley Evan Addison flashed onto the small, jade-hued screen, April gasped, clutching his shoulder as she read aloud.
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