“I’ll run the tub full of hot water, and you can soak.”
Without waiting for his response she hurried to the bathroom. When heated water was hissing into the tub, she came back and found Rucker sitting cross-legged in front of the fire grate. As she watched, he coaxed a growing flame under a pile of kindling.
“My very own Boy Scout,” she murmured as she handed him wood from a stack by the hearth.
“Wanta cross the street?”
“Hah. I’d be happy to find the energy to open two cans of beef stew.”
“Forget the stew. Get that bottle of bourbon.”
“A provocative notion, monsieur.”
“Mon-sewer. I love it when you call me by my French name.”
Laughing from nerves and fatigue and a giddy feeling she didn’t need to examine too closely, Dinah brought him the half-empty bottle they’d found in the owner’s cabin. She sat beside him on the hearth and gratefully absorbed the fire’s heat.
He opened the bottle and looked at her speculatively. “What, no glasses? Is my little debutante going gauche on me?”
“Be quiet and let me have a swig.”
They traded the bottle twice. Her two swallows of liquor hit her with intense effect. She leaned forward and mashed her face into Rucker’s shoulder.
“Don’t drool,” he joked tenderly.
“Need food. Need sleep. Need you.”
His voice was throaty. “You got it.”
She drew back and tugged forcefully at his earlobe. “You’re cold. Come take a bath.”
“Yes, nurse.”
He set the bourbon bottle on the hearth. She helped him to his feet and they went to the bathroom. Steam had already misted the tiny mirror over the sink, and the tub was about to overflow. Rucker bent over awkwardly and switched the water off.
Dinah shut the door, closing them inside the small room together.
He turned to gaze at her under arched brows. She looked up at him with wobbly reserve. “I’ll help you undress,” she announced.
“That’s not a professional gleam in your eye, nurse.”
“Sssh.”
Her scent, her hands, her voice, and the loving fire in her eyes kept him mesmerized as she unfastened his clothes. Whatever happened beyond tonight, whatever secrets unfolded later, they were together now and he wanted nothing more than to believe in her.
She removed his shirt and undershirt by slow degrees, her eyes following the movements of her hands. He carried a great deal of his weight in his shoulders and darkly haired chest. When he stood before her bare from the waist up, she bent and placed nuzzling kisses down the center of his chest.
“Dee,” he whispered, as his hands rose to stroke the unheeded tangles of her hair. It lay in damp strands down her back.
She trailed her hands to his jeans and unfastened them. “Sit on the edge of the tub,” she commanded gently.
As he carefully lowered his abused body to the tub’s rim, she pulled his clothes to his thighs. The jutting welcome of his manhood made her look at him with a bittersweet gaze. “Even an ice-cold pit can’t keep a good man down.”
He shook his head. “The night I walked into that city council meetin’ and first saw you, I knew you were special,” he whispered hoarsely. “Nobody else could make me so crazy with heat and tenderness at the same time. It’s still that way.”
“You overwhelmed me so much that I nearly forgot to be afraid of you. The big, bad columnist had come to make fun of me and my town, but all I wanted to do was ravish him!”
His mouth quirked up wryly. “You resisted that urge, as I recall. Despite my best efforts. I thought I was slicker than a snake oil salesman until I fell in love with a cross between Scarlett O’Hara and Katherine Hepburn.”
“I didn’t resist for very long,” she reminded him. “It was love at first sight.”
Rucker touched her face reverently. “I knew that I’d die for you if you wanted me to.”
She began to cry softly while she removed his boots and finished undressing him. He tried to caress her tear-streaked face, but she ducked her head. “I’ll cry harder,” she explained.
“Then climb in the tub with me. You might as well get the rest of you wet.”
She gazed at him in amusement, and a flush of pleasure rose in her cheeks. “That would be wonderful.”
“Undress for me.” His voice was low, soothing.
“All right.” She stood and pulled her sweater over her head. He watched her with a languorous, completely possessive gaze, as if she were removing erotic lingerie instead of damp, dirty clothes.
She stripped the rest of her clothes off and stood before him expectantly. Her knees almost refused to support her as she stepped to him and rested her arms on his shoulders.
With a gruff sigh he nestled his face between her breasts. Dinah arched her head back and moaned as he trailed kisses across her tender flesh. He paused over a nipple, and she could feel his ragged breath on the ruddy, swollen peak.
“Are you in pain from havin’ so much milk?” he asked.
“A little. But put your mouth on me anyway. Please.”
His lips surrounded the taut nipple and sucked carefully. Her whole body sagged with incredible pleasure that was almost too exquisite to bear. When he moved to the other breast, he put his hand on the abandoned one and gently rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
Soon his fingers were covered with milk. They both looked at the evidence that they had created a baby. As swiftly as a shadow moving across the sun, the mood darkened.
“You need to be nursed,” he noted. His tone became troubled. “Who’s feedin’ Katie right now?”
“Someone I trust. She’s all right. I promise, my darling. She’s all right. I’m not going to let anything happen to her.” Dinah spoke past the choked tears in her throat. “Help me take care of the milk. Help me with your hands.”
He settled in the tub and guided her down in front of him so that her back was nestled against his chest. They both sighed as the hot water cupped their bodies. “How should I touch you?” he whispered. His mustache tickled her ear.
“Like this.” She guided his hands over her breasts until he could coax the milk without her assistance.
“Lean your head back on my shoulder and shut your eyes,” he instructed. “You’ve been through so much hell lately. Just relax.”
Following his suggestion was blissful.
Rucker sighed happily and circled her ear with the tip of his tongue. “The spirit’s willin’, but the body says, ‘When pigs fly.’ ”
“Oh, please, no mention of pigs.”
He hugged her tightly. “My brave girl. My sweet, brave girl.”
She turned her face toward the crook of his neck and quivered as his hands moved again to her tingling breasts. “You’re healing me with your touch,” she said groggily. “You always could.”
“Take a nap, ladybug. I’ll sit here awhile and hold you and thaw out. Go to sleep.”
“But you’re so tired. You need—”
“I need to hold you.” His voice nearly broke. “I’ve needed that so many times since you’ve been gone. Sssh. Sleep.”
He began to hum an old gospel tune in her ear, his voice vibrating like a low-pitched tuning fork. A sweet darkness floated over her.
She was amazed when she woke up in the big bed that faced the fireplace. The cabin was shadowy and darkness pressed against the small, high windows. After a startled moment her exhausted body relaxed again, too tempted by the heat and softness that surrounded it.
The spicy-meat aroma of beef stew reached her nose and made her stomach rumble with need. Dinah blinked languidly and forced her eyes to focus.
What she saw made her smile. Rucker stood at the stove, his back to her. He wore nothing but his heavy blue hunter’s coat, and it barely covered his muscular rump. She giggled, recalling his colorful and often vain descriptions of his physique. There was nothing shy about the way he displayed his body and
used it to give her pleasure.
He heard her muffled laughter and turned around. The coat was open down the front, revealing a narrow but fascinating swath of hair, navel, and relaxed masculine attributes. When she pulled the covers up to her nose and batted her eyelashes in mock coyness, he grinned.
“What’s it to you?” he demanded.
“You’re wonderfully indecent, sir.” He came to the bed and sat down beside her. She put her hands under his coat and burrowed her fingers in his chest hair. “I don’t recall a thing after I went to sleep in the tub with you humming in my ear.”
“I had a helluva time dryin’ you off. You flopped over my arm like overcooked spaghetti.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“I like overcooked spaghetti.”
She cupped her hands over his thighs and rubbed small circles. “Do your legs feel better?”
“Pretty much.” His eyes gleamed in response to her touch. “Stop that. It’s dinnertime.”
“Food!” She started to push the covers down.
He halted her with a gentle hand. “Dinner in bed.”
“Only if you’re with me.”
He smiled sardonically. “Did I dress to sit at the table?”
A minute later he brought two huge bowls of stew to the bed with hot biscuits propped on the rims. Dinah pulled herself upright and smiled incredulously. “Are these homemade McClure biscuits?”
He balanced both bowls on her outstretched legs and bowed low. “Hell yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, how I’ve missed them.”
Chuckling, he removed his coat, got in bed beside her and took his bowl of stew. When his large, strong body nestled against hers she grew quiet. The contact subdued him as well. They looked at each other pensively.
He raised a spoonful of food and fed her, his eyes watching every movement her lips made. She lifted her spoon to his mouth, and when he swallowed the hot stew she bent toward him and kissed the movements of his throat.
They ate the rest of their dinner in that manner, without speaking more than a word or two. When they finished she carried their bowls to the kitchen. Dinah brought back a small glass filled with bourbon. She settled under the covers and took a swallow, then handed the rest to him.
“You always know what I want,” he murmured. He tossed the liquor down his throat and set the glass aside.
She nodded, her body tingling with an almost frightening sense of anticipation. They had been apart so long, and she wanted him so badly, that she felt awkward. “Do you know what I want?” she whispered.
His barely perceptible nod combined with the searing sensuality in his eyes. Her blood sizzled; her skin was alert to every sensation. He guided her onto her back and pulled the covers away from her heated body.
His tongue drew a line of fire down the center of her stomach. When she moaned with joy he pressed his hand between her legs and made her body shift languidly.
He brought his mouth to each of her nipples and licked them. Dinah lay quietly, her palms turned upward beside her, her body and mind at ease for the first time in almost a year. He was her dearest friend, her lover, her husband, the father of the most wonderful child in the world. And one day, when he understood why she’d left him, life would be as perfect as before.
Sucking her skin lightly, he moved down her torso. His lips feathered over her stomach and his tongue traced patterns around her navel. His index finger probed the dampness between her legs and eased inside. When she gasped, he withdrew quickly. “Is something different now?”
Her voice was thick with passion and eager to reassure him. “No. No. It’s just that I’ve spent so much time imagining how your touch would feel that I almost went over the edge.”
His rough inhalation told her how powerfully those words affected him. He caressed her carefully, teasing her without repeating the earlier intimacy.
“You’re very tight,” he murmured. “Even after having a baby. Did you heal all right?”
“I think so. I feel fine.”
“You feel fantastic.” He moved up to her mouth and took it gently, exploring her lips and tongue with slow, thorough intent. She returned the exploration, and small cries echoed in the back of her throat as she thrilled to his taste and texture.
“I can tell that you never stopped wanting me,” he whispered. “Nobody else has made love to you.”
Her eyes snapped open and her body stiffened. She stared up into his large, expressive eyes and saw the harshness that tinged their green depths. Dinah felt the blood drain from her face. Now she understood. “You aren’t loving me,” she rasped. “You’re testing me.”
He nodded, and taut determination merged with the languorous desire on his face. “I’m doing both.”
She inhaled raggedly. “I thought we had a truce.”
“As long as you keep secrets about the past ten months, our truce is shaky at best.”
She grasped his face between trembling hands. “Don’t make a mockery of what I feel for you.”
He laughed curtly and her blood chilled. She’d never thought him capable of such a sad sound.
“Look who’s talkin’,” he retorted.
“I love you.”
A victorious glint appeared in his eyes. “Then don’t question my reasons for touchin’ you. After what you’ve done to me, you ask for too much.”
She felt her happiness crumbling. Dinah tried to pull him on top of her. “Just finish it. No more preliminaries. Come here. Maybe we can’t hope for anything tender right now.”
He grasped her hands and pressed them down on the bed. His eyes gleamed angrily. “Oh, no, you can’t put that kind of wall around yourself. Lay back and close your eyes.”
Without waiting to see her reaction he slid down her body and began to kiss her inner thighs. Dinah tried to close her legs; he roughly pushed them apart.
“I thought you were beginning to relax—to trust me,” she protested tearfully.
“I trust you to tell me the truth eventually. I believe that you never stopped lovin’ me, and I’m prayin’ that I’ll be able to live with the reasons why you left me. But right now I only know one way to prove that you’re still mine.”
“I don’t want you to manipulate my body just to show me that you can.”
She struggled to roll away from him, but he clamped an arm over her midsection. His voice dropped to a low, harsh level. “I told you that I can be cruel. Now lie still and take it.”
He kept his arm over her and used his other hand to keep her legs spread. Dinah clenched her fists and stared at the ceiling. He lowered his head and began to torture her slowly and sweetly with his tongue. The contrast between his ugly words and his caring attention almost tore her defenses apart.
“You’re movin’,” he whispered smugly. “I can feel you pushing against my mouth.”
“Physical stimulation is no mystery.”
“You sound like a medical book. So logical. Let’s see what’s logical about this.”
Months of loneliness and years of love were against her in the battle to resist. She pressed her hips into the mattress to subdue her body’s traitorous need to rise under his skilled mouth.
Even so she quivered and felt silky feminine moisture bathe the insides of her thighs. Rucker chuckled harshly and intensified his efforts, licking her sensitive skin as if she were covered in sweet syrup. When he tugged gently at the center of her aching flesh she cried out and sank her hands into his hair.
“Stop. Please. Don’t use me this way.”
“You told me I could use you anyway I wanted,” he reminded her tersely. “As long as I helped you do your job. Did you think good ol’ kind Rucker wouldn’t take advantage of the offer? I’m not very kind anymore.”
“Yes, you are,” she answered brokenly. “And you don’t really want to do this—”
“Stop talkin’!” A tremor ran through the hand that pushed at her thigh. His voice dropped to a strained whisper. “When I get through with you to
night you’ll wonder why in hell you ever left my bed.”
Dinah gasped silently at his words and their undertone of sorrow. Now she understood part of his anguish, and tenderness burst inside her. He feared that he hadn’t been good enough in bed. Her chest constricted with mute sympathy.
Her legs relaxed bonelessly under his grip. This time when he delved into her she allowed the sensation to make her writhe. He pressed downward, forcing her to be still, making gruff sounds of satisfaction at her desperate attempts to seek more pleasure.
Rucker began to stroke her intimately with his hand again, teasing, circling. He groaned softly at her wild response. Her heels dug into the mattress and she tugged at his hair, almost fighting him because he held her down.
He doubled his efforts and a long, wailing sound of ecstasy tore from her throat while she raked her hands across his shoulders. Shudders of release cascaded through her until she could do little more than whip her head from side to side on the pillow and struggle weakly against the unceasing bondage of his arm.
He didn’t stop until she was limp and panting. Then he straddled her and gathered her in both arms. Dinah looked up through a mindless haze of emotion and saw the heavy-lidded desire of a man who had been pushed past his limit. He raised her upper body off the bed so that she hung in his embrace with her head tilted back.
“Take it,” he ordered.
His mouth, wet from her body, came down on hers desperately. Dinah draped her arms around his neck and reveled in the erotic savagery of his tongue. He kissed her with a plunging invasion that continued until she could barely breathe.
She twisted away, gasping, only to hear him make a menacing but surprisingly gentle sound. He caught her mouth again. This time he lowered her to the bed and quickly stretched out on top of her, his hips sinking between her thighs and angling them even farther apart. His hot, rigid male flesh was ready to enter her whenever he chose.
With a quick jerk of her head she pulled away from his kiss and looked up at him. He grabbed her head between his hands, then bent to taste her mouth again. Dinah managed to insert a hand between them and press it against his lips. He made a gruff sound of reproach.
“No more anger,” she ordered in a soft, soothing tone. “I’m yours. I always have been and I always will be. When I left, it had nothing to do with not loving you. You gave me everything I needed, and I never looked for anyone else. I love you dearly. One day you’ll believe that again. I promise.”