Touch the Horizon

  Yasmin put down the comb and stood back. “You have not told Billie how nice she looks,” she told David. “How lovely and womanly.”

  “Yasmin hates my jeans.” Billie chuckled. “She’s sure there’s something unnatural about me.”

  “I could tell her different,” David murmured. “There’s no one more delightfully natural than you, love.”

  “Lisan,” Yasmin demanded sternly.

  “Yes, Yasmin, I was coming to that,” David said. “Billie, may I see how lovely and particularly womanly you look this evening?” He raised an inquiring brow at Yasmin. “How’s that, Yasmin?”

  “Very poor, Lisan.” Yasmin was gliding majestically past him to the door. “You must do better next time. She may never wear a dress again if you do not.”

  As she left the room, he murmured, “A state much to be desired. Especially if we also banish jeans and shirts and—”

  “Shut up,” Billie said, and laughed. “Yasmin wouldn’t agree that was womanly, merely sluttish.” She stood up. “Come on, we’re going to be late for dinner. We don’t dine that often with Karim, and we don’t want to be rude.”

  “Don’t we?” David asked teasingly. “I’ve been noticing a distinct softening in your attitude toward Karim lately. Could it be you’re reconsidering your opinion of him? Let’s see—what did you call him? Oh, yes, ‘arrogant old dictator,’ wasn’t it?”

  “Among other things,” she said as she preceded him through the curtain into the bedchamber. “And all quite true.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I just discovered that he’s also very fair, has a rather wry sense of humor, and is more vulnerable than I thought. It’s hard to dislike a man like that.” She turned to pick up her evening bag from the bed and suddenly stopped short. “My guitar!”

  Honorable Patches. Would she ever think of it in any other way now? It was lying on the end of the bed, and she slowly crossed the room to look down at it. The structural damage had been repaired with such skill that the cracks were hard to see, and it had been polished to a high gloss. But every single scratch and dent was still on its surface.

  “It came in on the helicopter this afternoon,” David said from behind her. “I would have given it to you then, but you didn’t come to my room after you finished with Yusef.”

  “You had work to do,” she said as she picked up the guitar and cradled it lovingly. “And I wanted to go to the bazaar with Yusef to see Daina’s reaction to his new look.”

  “Was she impressed?”

  Billie nodded. “I think so. At least she said a few words to him. Yusef was happy, anyway.” Her fingers gently traced the scratches. “We’ll just have to see how it goes.”

  David was beside her now. “You still like it best, don’t you?” he asked. “I was hoping you’d grown used to the new one.”

  Her eyes flew to meet his. “Oh, I have. I love it.” She smiled. “But you always give a warmer greeting to old friends when they’ve been away for a while. I’ll get to feel the same way about the new one, given time.” She put the guitar down on the bed. “I’ll have to find a very special place for it.”

  “You already have.” He reached out a hand and placed it over her heart. “You already have, love.”

  “I guess so.” Her hand covered his and squeezed it. “Now we’d better get out of here.”

  “In a minute,” he said, drawing her into his arms. “Let me hold you for a minute. It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten how good you feel cuddled close like this.”

  She leaned against him, loving the warm, hard feel of him. “It hasn’t been that long—just a few hours.” But it seemed a long time to her too. She didn’t feel complete without him anymore.

  “Long enough.” He covered her lips in a long, sweet kiss that lit a glowing torch within her. “Too long.” His hands came up to cup her breasts through the material of her gown. “I think I like you best in jeans and shirts. At least I can unbutton them and get to you. I have an idea this could be a very frustrating evening.”

  “Not womanly enough?” Billie asked impishly.

  “Not sexy enough,” David said. “You’re always womanly. I just like to appreciate your more sensual attributes on occasion.”

  “On occasion,” Billie repeated dryly.

  “Well, morning, afternoon, and night,” David said. “They’re all occasions.” He turned her toward the door. “I guess you’re right. We’d better get out of this bedroom or I’m likely to elaborate on the subject, complete with demonstrations.” He opened the door and glanced down to wink mischievously at her. “Besides, the sooner we can get dinner and the amenities over, the sooner I can whisk you back to my lair for fun and games.”

  “No miracles?” she asked with a grin.

  “That goes without saying. Always miracles, love.”

  EIGHT

  “SHAREEN!”

  David’s voice was no more astounded than his face as he released Billie’s hand to accept the superbly manicured one of the woman who floated across the drawing room to him as soon as they entered.

  She was one of the most gorgeous women Billie had ever seen. Raven-black hair gleamed against the creamy matte complexion, and the immense dark eyes that dominated her face were truly magnificent. Intelligent, warm, seductive, she was all of those things. Not to mention voluptuous. But she’d known that before, Billie thought numbly.

  Then David was turning and introducing Shareen Nazare to her and that charming, intelligent smile was given to her. Billie heard herself reply politely, and it was a wonder she was coherent at all. Her throat had closed up, and she felt as if she could scarcely breathe. The pain was so sudden and so sharp it was like the thrust of a knife; panic bubbled higher in her every second.

  She could hear the other woman murmuring something, those gorgeous eyes dancing with amusement, but she couldn’t make any sense of it. She had to get out.

  “Excuse me,” she interrupted jerkily. “I’m suddenly not feeling well.” Oh, God, that was the truth. “You’ll have to forgive me.”

  She was vaguely conscious of Karim’s and Clancy’s expressions of surprise before she turned. She ran from the room and down the corridor as if she had wings. She heard David call out behind her, but she couldn’t stop. She had to get away from that suffocating fear she’d known when she’d seen the woman smiling at David so intimately.

  She’d barely slammed the door to her room when David burst through it. His face was pale, and there was concern, not anger, on his face. “For God’s sake, what’s wrong, Billie? You’re white as a sheet. I’ve never seen you act like that before.”

  Why had she expected him to know what was wrong? He couldn’t read her mind, only her heart. “I told you I sometimes do crazy things,” she said feverishly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t polite to your guest. You’ll have to apologize to her for me.” She sat down on the bed, her hands reaching automatically for the guitar she’d set there such a short time ago. It seemed like a decade. She cradled it against her, taking comfort from it. “She’ll understand. She seemed quite pleasant.”

  “Shareen? Is that what all this is about?” There was a flicker of relief in his eyes. “Look, I told you, sweetheart, there was nothing there. She’s certainly not here for my benefit. I knew Karim had sent for a kadine for himself, but I didn’t know it would be Shareen. I guess I should have. She’s very intelligent, and he appreciates that in his women.”

  “She’s Karim’s kadine?” Billie asked lifelessly. “Isn’t he a little old for her?”

  “You’re never too old for an accomplished lady like Shareen,” David said wryly. “She’ll make him a very happy man tonight.”

  But she would rather have had David. Anyone would rather have David. “I’m sure she will.”

  “So there’s no reason to be jealous or upset,” David said gently. “You’re the only important woman in my world.”

  For now. But how long could that last with a man like David? He wasn’t only physically beautiful, he was beautiful inside
too. He drew people like a magnet, and there were so many intelligent, lovely women out there in the world who would want him.

  “I wasn’t exactly jealous,” she said, not looking at him. If there had been an element of jealousy in her feelings, it had been lost in the panic and the pain. In that moment she’d realized just how much she did love David Bradford, and it frightened her more than anything ever had in her whole life. It seemed to encompass her entire being, and it was growing stronger with every breath she took, with every moment she spent with him. “It’s just that I suddenly felt again that I was that scrawny seven-year-old I once told you about. I could almost feel the orange braids sprouting.” She laughed shakily. “That would have been pretty funny, wouldn’t it?”

  “It’s not funny at all.” Suddenly he was beside her. “Would you please stop hugging your old friend and hold me instead? I need you more, love.”

  She put the guitar aside and practically leaped into his arms, clutching at him with a desperation that took his breath away. “I need you too,” she said, burrowing her face into his shirt front. “I need you so much, David. Hold me. Please hold me.”

  “I’m holding you,” David said thickly. “I’m holding you, windflower. I’ll never let go.”

  He would someday. Love always went away from her. He’d be kind about it. He’d try to ease her desolation. He’d even be hurt himself when he found he couldn’t do that. But it would be too late then.

  “Billie.” David’s voice was an urgent murmur. “Talk to me. Let it out. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you’re feeling. Can’t you see it’s tearing me apart to see you like this?”

  “I don’t want to talk.” Her arms tightened around him. “I just want you to hold me. No, I want something else as well. I want you to make love to me. Will you do that?”

  David’s sapphire eyes were troubled. “I think we should talk first, love. I think you need that more.”

  Her trembling hands were at the buttons of his white dress shirt. “You’re wrong. We can talk tomorrow.” There was nothing she could talk about. Nothing she could say to him. “This is what I need tonight.” She parted his shirt and laid her face against the soft thatch of hair on his chest. The strong cadence of his heart was beneath her ear. “Please, David.”

  “If that’s what you really want.” His hands were at the fastening at the back of her cotton gown and his voice was honey-dark. “That’s all I ever want to do, love—give you what you need to have. What you want.”

  When their clothes were discarded and he would have borne her back on the amber silken sheets, she stopped him. “No, not yet. I want to look at you.” She knelt on the bed, tugging at his hand, until he knelt facing her. “You’re so beautiful. I used to think that men who were beautiful couldn’t be virile-looking. But you are.” Her gaze ran lovingly over broad golden shoulders that tapered to a hard, muscular waist and stomach. One hand ran caressingly over the tight firmness of his buttocks, and she felt him tense involuntarily. Her hand wandered around to clasp him with infinite tenderness. “You are—”

  He jerked against her fondling hand. “It’s nice to be appreciated, but you’re teasing the hell out of me, sweetheart.” He reached out to touch her cheek with gossamer gentleness. “I’d like to prove that virility when you’re ready.”

  “Soon,” she said, her eyes glowing almost feverishly. Her hand ran exploringly over the velvet hardness of him before leaving to rove over his stomach and up to the thatch of hair on his chest. “I want to memorize you. I want to know you so well that if I suddenly went blind, I’d still be able to see you before me. Would that be all right, David?”

  There was a troubled little flicker in the depths of his eyes before he nodded slowly. “Will it help you, love?”

  She nodded, her copper hair a bright curtain falling forward to shadow her face. “I think so.”

  “Then, I’m at your disposal,” he said lightly. “Do with me what you will, mon capitaine.” He smiled. “And I promise you I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

  “I hope you will,” she whispered. “I want that very much, David.” She wanted to bring him an overflowing cornucopia of pleasure. She wanted to give him everything. Everything.

  She pushed him gently back into a reclining position on the bed and knelt over him. Her lips began a burning odyssey over his shoulders, down the whipcord muscles of his chest, to his stomach. They paused there a long, long time while she nibbled delicately, caressed with a teasing tongue, and then just lay there with her head on his stomach, her warm breath an erotic titillation of its own. Her hands began a lazy, teasing foray over the slightly rough hair that surrounded the root of his manhood, to the muscular column of his thighs. He was so strong, so golden, so completely and beautifully male.

  His body was now a rigid wall of muscle. She could feel the painfully knotted tendons of his stomach beneath her cheek. His breath was coming in little shuddering gasps. As her lips followed the path of her hand, he gave a low groan, and his hips bucked upward. “Billie,” he gasped, his sapphire eyes glazed. “It hurts. I want you so much it hurts.”

  “I know. I know,” she whispered gently, and her lips moved lovingly to soothe that hurt. He cried out, and his body convulsed with pleasure. She felt a deep rush of primitive satisfaction that she could give him that joy. He gave so much to everyone around him, he should have all the joy life could bring him.

  Then, with a low cry, he reached down and pulled her up and over on her back. He was covering her body with his own the way he had in the sandstorm. He’d been so kind that day, protecting her, banishing her fears and pain. How she wished he could banish her pain now.

  He was parting her thighs, and she welcomed him, leading him to her. Then he was within her, filling her, making her a part of him. He drew a deep breath and leaned forward to rest his head upon her breasts. Such a sweet, heavy weight. In the carpet shop he’d felt like that, nestling against her so lovingly. Shut out the memories, push them away. Think only of this moment.

  He was trying to steady his breathing, his heart beating erratically against her. “You’re not ready for me,” he said shakily. “I can feel it. Give me a minute and I’ll make it good for you.”

  “No, I’m ready for you,” she said quickly. “It will be fine.” She started a gentle undulating movement that caused a shudder to ripple through him. “Go ahead. I want you to.”

  “No.” His hand moved down to the heart of her and began a gentle rotating that caused a deep clenching and opening within her. “I want you with me all the way.”

  He was being too careful, too tender. She could feel the panic exploding within her as she experienced again that loving kindness that was so much a part of him. He wouldn’t take without giving, and she couldn’t bear it if he gave to her right now. He mustn’t make her love him any more. She loved him too much already.

  She laughed with an effort. “I told you I was ready for you. Why won’t you listen to me?” Her eyes were shining with a restless flame. “I guess I’ll just have to show you.”

  She could feel him trying to temper his passion, to hold back, but she wouldn’t let him. She knew the ways to pleasure him and fan the flame to white-hot, and she used them all. She didn’t want him gentle and caring tonight. She wanted him hard and fast and almost brutal from his own need. In the end she had her way, and the force of his savage thrusts took her breath away. It was wild and hot and world-shaking, and when it was over they were both trembling.

  “Did I hurt you?” David’s eyes were concerned as he looked down at her. His chest was laboring with the force of his breathing. “I didn’t mean to be that rough. God, I’m sorry, Billie.”

  “You gave me what I wanted,” she said, her breathing as shallow as his own. She felt a slight soreness between her thighs and she knew she’d have a few bruises tomorrow. “It didn’t matter.”

  “It matters very much,” David said, a trace of grimness in his voice. “Why did you want it that way?”
r />   “I don’t want to talk about it now.” She nestled close to him and determinedly closed her eyes. “I’m too sleepy.”

  “Billie.” She heard the troubled frustration in his voice, but she didn’t open her eyes. Then she heard him sigh resignedly and settle down beside her, drawing her closer. “Okay. Sleep, Billie, but tomorrow we talk.”

  She didn’t answer, fighting the tears that were trying to slip from beneath her lashes. They wouldn’t talk tomorrow. How could she tell him she loved him so much that she was afraid of the feeling’s growing any greater? It was a thousand times worse than those other times now. What would it be like in six months or a year? She had to get away while she could still survive and had some chance of making a life for herself. If it wasn’t already too late. Oh, God, she loved him. He was so dear. Lisan.

  David ripped the piece of paper out of the typewriter, balled it up impatiently, and tossed it into the wastebasket, which was almost overflowing from this morning’s fruitless production. He hadn’t thought he’d be able to concentrate, and he’d been right. Most of the time he’d sat staring at the piece of blank paper like a zombie, seeing only Billie’s face as it had been before he left her this morning.

  It was as if she’d built a shell around herself, feverish, bright, glittering, and totally impenetrable. She wouldn’t admit to anything’s being in the least wrong, had laughed at her distress the night before, and insisted on his going to his apartment to work. She’d kissed him lightly and practically pushed him out the door, saying she’d see him at lunch.

  Why the hell had he let her do it? He’d thought at the time that a few hours alone to think might make her more amenable to confiding in him. God knows he didn’t want to force the issue, when he could feel the pain that was sheltered behind that wall. Now he wasn’t sure it had been wise to delay the confrontation. It might just give the wound time to fester. She had to talk to him, dammit! He had a gut feeling about what the problem was, but he couldn’t solve it unless she brought it out in the open.