He ran his hands over her skin. Her unbelievably soft skin. He traced the curve of her breast, the tuck of her waist, and the small curve of her hip and leg. When it wasn’t enough to watch her, to see her body sliding up and down his, he caught her small h*ps and took over, relentlessly driving them both to the brink and then slowing down to allow them to catch their breath. She was flushed, her eyes bright, her head thrown back. Dahlia loving sex with him. The sight of her like that sent an explosion welling up from somewhere deep inside him, gathering with a great force and pushing through his body like a wall of fire. She cried out as her muscles gripped and squeezed, and rippled with shock from her own release.
Dahlia bent over his chest to lay her head on him. He wrapped her in his arms and held her while their hearts raced and their lungs burned for air. Nicolas wanted her to stay there, right on top of him, her body still a part of his while he held her close. There was something comforting in having her so close to him, skin to skin. An intimate connection.
“I want you to take notice, Nicolas,” she pointed out, not bothering to lift her face from the warmth of his neck, “I refrained from whatever woman discussion thing you were accusing me of. You can’t throw it in my face.”
“Yes I can,” he objected, capturing her hand as it smoothed over his skin. He nibbled on her fingers. “You were definitely headed toward a relationship discussion. See? As a woman you couldn’t help yourself.”
“Is it in the manual?”
“Yes, page ninety-two I think. Right there in bold print, it warns men about the relationship discussion all women,” he bit on the end of her finger for emphasis, “that would be you, must have with their poor unsuspecting man.”
“I see. This relationship manual certainly has a lot of information in it.”
“It’s thick,” he agreed.
“I’ll bet it took you a long time to read it and commit it to memory.”
Her tone was mild, but he sensed a trap. He looked at her carefully, but she had her eyes closed and was nearly purring while she laid on top of him, her hair spilling around them like a silken waterfall. “I knew it would come in handy one day.” He couldn’t help the smile in his voice or his mind.
Outside the bedroom window, an alligator began to bellow with love, calling loudly for a mate. The sound reverberated through the room, making Nicolas nearly jump out of bed. As it was he brought up his gun and swept Dahlia onto the side of the bed with one arm. She collapsed into a small heap, laughing at him. “You’re saving me from an alligator.”
“If you don’t stop laughing, I may feed you to the thing. What the hell is that racket?” He glared toward the window as he sheepishly slipped the gun back beneath the pillow.
“It’s an alligator lovefest. Go to sleep. They’re just beginning a sweet serenade. I hear it all the time out here.”
He rolled over to come up on his elbow. He propped up his chin so he could stare down at her. “Tell me something about yourself. Something you don’t share with others.”
The smile faded from her lips. “Nicolas, I don’t share anything with anyone. Jesse was my closest friend, and I only saw him when he needed me to go out on a mission. When he came to give my orders we played chess once in a while, that was pretty much the extent of our time together. Milly and Bernadette took care of me, in fact, Milly’s always been with me, as far back as I can remember, but I didn’t share my innermost thoughts even with them. I didn’t dare.”
“Why not?”
“They didn’t encourage that sort of thing, and I knew they reported to someone. I didn’t want that, so I was careful. Even as a child I was careful.” She sat up, the long fall of hair cloaking her in mystery. In the dark, her eyes took on a haunted look. “I’m still careful. I don’t know how this all happened with you. I try not to think about it too much or I want to run.”
He glanced toward the door where the alligator nearest the bedroom seemed to have a caller waiting. “I wouldn’t suggest it at the moment. I think we’re surrounded.”
She paced across the floor on bare feet, snagging the shirt that had been discarded many hours earlier and shrugging into it. “Were you ever lonely when you were in the jungle, or did it seem like home to you, Nicolas?”
“It seemed like home. I knew the rules and relied on myself. I liked the sounds and smells and it was all familiar to me.”
“That’s the way I feel about the bayou. It feels safe to me. It’s the only place that does. I understand the rules here, and I wasn’t lonely.” She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. “I might be now that I’ve met you and got a taste of how other people live.” Her smile was sad. “I should have thought about it before I let myself get in too deep with you.”
“What’s too deep, Dahlia?” She was doing it again. She was so elusive he felt nearly driven to desperation. Nicolas took a deep breath, centered himself, and forced down the unfamiliar panic. “Come here, honey. Don’t get so far away from me.” There were a thousand secrets in her eyes, a thousand wounds. A lifetime of distrust and betrayal. Isolation. How did one overcome such things? Nicolas padded after her and drew her gently into his body.
Where before, the potent combination of Dahlia and sexual energy had sent him into a frenzy of need, of desire, now he felt tenderness, a need to comfort her. His kisses were gentle, coaxing, completely undemanding. “We don’t have to think about this too much, Dahlia. We both know we’re in untried territory. We have no idea what’s going to happen between us in the future. I know I want to be with you, and I know myself. I’ll find a way for us.”
Her hands came up to cover his. She was trembling. He knew she was afraid to face what must lie ahead for them. She’d taken steps out of the safe world that had been created for her. There was safety in not caring too much, not being involved too deeply. Dahlia had strict limits she set for herself and she stayed within those limits. He was dragging her further and further out into the open.
He brought both of her hands to his mouth and kissed her fingers. Kissed her palm. He wanted to make it better for her, take away the sting of not knowing love for all those years. He wanted her to recognize the real thing. He didn’t dare speak of it, he knew she’d bolt. He was getting to know her now, the sudden spurts of terror that woke her in the middle of the night. “Where were you going?”