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Page 5


  When the first rippling sensation began to unwind within her, Kate tensed and planted her feet on the sofa cushions. Lifting her hips high off his lap, she strained to capture that always-elusive moment of complete and total satisfaction.

  “Take it, Kate,” he whispered, tearing his mouth from hers. “Let the feeling take you. Surrender.”

  She felt his gaze locked on her face and opened her eyes wide to meet his. Staring into the warm, chocolate gaze that watched her so tenderly, she gave herself over to the waves crashing through her, over her, around her. Her body trembled. Her head fell back. She called out his name as she crested the peak and slowly slid down the other side, safe in the circle of his arms.

  “Ah, Kate,” Tom murmured, his heart racing, his body aching. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, nibbling, tasting, teasing. Needing to touch her, to be a part of her.

  She stirred and beneath his fingers began to twitch and writhe again. “Thomas,” she said, and her voice was a pale hush of sound. “I need you inside me, Thomas. Now.”

  Her words fueled the hunger riding him. He needed that, too. More than he ever had before, he wanted to slide into her depths and feel her body surround him, hold him.

  Teeth tightly clenched, he shifted to one side, laid her down on the couch and stood up to tear off his own clothes.

  She struggled up into a sitting position and quickly tugged her dress up and off over her head. But when she reached to undo the tiny front clasp of her bra, he stopped her. “Don’t,” he nearly pleaded. “Let me.”

  A soft smile curved her mouth as she lay back down and parted her black silk clad thighs for him.

  Tom’s breath hitched in his chest and he wouldn’t have been surprised if it had stopped altogether. Against the blue and green tapestry covered sofa, she looked magnificent. All light and shadow, pale flesh and black lace. She was any man’s fantasy and his reality.

  He tossed his clothes onto the floor and knelt over her. His thumb and forefinger flipped the clasp of her bra free and he eased the fragile fabric aside, cupping her breasts in the palms of his hand. Her nipples pebbled under his touch, their rosy tips hardening delicately.

  She bit down hard on her bottom lip as he caressed her, arching her back, letting half moans slide from her throat. Her pulse beat throbbed at the base of her neck as she lifted her hands to draw his head down toward her.

  Tom bent and took first one nipple and then the other into his mouth. Lips and tongue teased, working her flesh with tender deliberation. She gasped when he suckled her, then moaned in abandonment as he left one breast for the other.

  Her passion fed his own. Her sighs reached inside him, twisting his heart and soul together, making them one. Making him complete. Filling the void that only she could touch.

  He didn’t question that. Didn’t stop to think what it might mean. For now, for tonight, this was all that mattered.

  And when he couldn’t stand the wait another moment, he eased up, cupped her bottom in his hands and slid into the heat he’d known would be waiting for him. Surrounded by her, he groaned tightly and moved, slowly at first, as if to savor the sensation of once again finding her haven. Then as the need grew and blossomed inside him, he moved more quickly. Thrust after thrust, driving them both toward the end that was racing toward them.

  Seconds became moments. Moments became eternities.

  Further, deeper, higher. He couldn’t think. Could only feel. A glorious, all-encompassing greed for her grabbed him, shook him and pushed him on. Only with her. Only with Kate had he ever found this white-hot place where passion and need flowered together.

  She met his movements fiercely, eagerly. Her hands clutched at his shoulders. Her nails dug into his skin, branding him. Her head tipped back into the cushions. Kate groaned his name, held on and welcomed it all, holding it to her as tightly as she did him.

  Tom felt her muscles contract around him, and he groaned her name like a prayer as his body erupted, pouring everything he was into her depths.

  Five

  A slow tear seeped from the corner of her eye, rolled along her temple and disappeared into the tangled mess of her fine, blond hair.

  Kate wasn’t even sure why she was crying. What they’d just shared had been so perfect. So beautiful. Her body still hummed with satisfaction and she definitely had the answer to the question that had been plaguing her.

  Thomas still wanted her. Despite the bizarre situation they found themselves in.

  She inhaled a shaky breath and told herself that at least it was a place to start. If he felt passion and desire and want, then was it such a stretch to hope that one day he might feel love?

  Whether he could admit it or not, there was already a powerful connection between them. She knew very well how he felt about love. He’d made no secret of his feelings over the past three years. He wasn’t interested in it, he’d said countless times. He preferred what they had together. No strings. No complications.

  Her heart twisted painfully.

  He muttered something and shifted a bit.

  Kate held him to her, unmindful of his weight pressing her down into the cushions. For the moment she simply wanted to enjoy the feel of his hard, warm body aligned with hers. Thinking could come later. Heck, breathing could come later.

  “Kate?” His whisper came in a low rumble of sound, bristling along her still-sensitive nerve endings and jangling together in the pit of her stomach. “I’m going to squash you in another minute.”

  “I’m fine,” she said just as quietly. Besides, if he moved now, he might see the telltale track of her tear before she had a chance to wipe it away. Blast it, she didn’t want to start crying.

  Yet tears seemed to be too close to the surface these days. Why did hormones have to be so involved with pregnancy, anyway?

  Despite her grip on him, he levered himself up onto one elbow and stared down at her just as she moved to swipe her hand across the side of her face. Instantly his eyes narrowed on the trail of dampness that one tear had left behind.

  “Crying?” he asked, clearly worried now. “I made you cry?”

  “Thomas,” she started to say.

  He rolled to one side of her on the wide, comfortable sofa and looked at her steadily. “Did I hurt you?” A pause and then, “The baby?”

  “No,” she said, disgusted with herself and her blasted hormones. “Of course not.”

  “Then why?”

  More tears suddenly swam in her eyes, blurring her vision. Angrily she brushed them away with the backs of her hands. “I don’t know why,” she muttered. “The other day, I actually cried over a phone company commercial.”

  He smiled, but she could see he was unconvinced.

  “Thomas,” she said, laying one hand on his chest, loving the feel of his heartbeat thudding against her fingertips. “You didn’t hurt me,” she said, willing him to believe her. “It’s just...I’m...” She searched for the perfect word to describe what she was feeling and couldn’t find it. At the moment she would have required an entire dictionary, complete with thesaurus. Flopping back down onto the cushion helplessly, she half wailed, “I don’t even know what I am anymore.”

  “Pregnant?”

  She flung one hand across her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look at him. “Yes,” she said on a tight groan. “I guess that about covers it. What the heck are we going to do about this?”

  “I thought we had that settled,” he said, lifting her hand away so that he could watch her eyes. “We’re getting married.”

  Much to her own disgust, Kate’s bottom lip trembled. Married. Over the past three years, she’d imagined him saying those words to her countless times. Only in her dreams it was so different. So romantic. So “I can’t live without you, marry me fast.”

  Never once had she imagined a good, old-fashioned shotgun wedding.

  Logically she supposed she should be pleased that he was saying it at all, since it would make her career, her life and the baby’s life so much
easier to manage. But as she’d long since realized, logic and Thomas rarely met up in her thoughts.

  Her mind raced on, spinning out visions of the next twenty years or so. Images spiraled in front of her. Married, she and Thomas stayed together for the sake of their child and the great sex. From here on out, they’d go through life hardly talking, yet wearing out one mattress after another. Their poor child would probably never see them since they would rarely leave the bedroom. The two of them would never get to know each other because that would involve actual speech occasionally. They would spend their entire lives as though it was one long, weekend affair.

  And while some people might look on that as a good thing, Kate wanted more. She’d loved him for three years and had hoped to convince him that he loved her, too.

  Oh, yeah, she thought, heart breaking into tiny, jagged-edged splinters, this was going to work out swell.

  He was talking, she suddenly realized, and pushed her depressing thoughts aside to pay attention.

  “I thought a simple wedding, at my house, would be good.”

  “Your house.”

  “Well, yes,” he said. “It’s a big place, built for entertaining.” He eased down beside her and pulled her close. “We could even hold the ceremony in the backyard, if you wanted to.”

  “Thomas, what kind of marriage is this going to be?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” she said, and turned her head to look at him. “Are we really doing the right thing?”

  Tom stared into her blue eyes and asked himself the same thing. As he had dozens of times over the past few days. “Who knows what the right thing is, Kate?” he grumbled. Lord knew, he’d been trying to answer that one since the day she’d told him about the baby.

  “Shouldn’t we try to figure it out?”

  “Should we?” he asked. “Maybe there isn’t an answer.” He sat up on the couch, then turned his head to look at her. “Look, I’m not a good bet at marriage, I admit that. Hell, I’ve told you all about Donna’s mother and what a mess I made of things.”

  “That’s not what I was talking about,” she said, and sat up beside him.

  “It’s what I think about,” he countered. “Ever since you told me about the baby, all I’ve thought about is what might go wrong this time.” He shoved one hand through his hair. “Don’t you see? I come from a long line of lousy fathers. From generation to generation, the men in my family have screwed up fatherhood. Hell, I didn’t even get to know Donna until she was half-grown! This could be a second chance for me. To be involved with my kid’s childhood. To somehow make right what I did wrong with Donna. Hopefully.”

  He glanced at her and couldn’t read her expression. Maybe that was for the best. “On the other hand, I don’t want to cheat you.”

  ‘Cheat me?” she repeated.

  “Yeah.” He reached out and smoothed her hair back from her face, then let his hand drop. “I told you when we started this...”

  “Affair?” she offered.

  “Fine. Affair. I told you then, I wasn’t interested in love. Or commitment. Or anything else that I’ve already failed at so miserably.”

  “I know that.”

  “The thing is,” he said as if she hadn’t interrupted, “should you have to go through your life not being loved’ as you should be loved?” He shook his head and moved for the edge of the couch. “Seems like you’re getting the short end of this particular stick, Major. If you want to rethink this whole thing, I’d understand.”

  She turned and scooted off the sofa. “So you’re saying you’re willing to get married, you just don’t want to. Is that it?”

  Tom shot her a quick look and shook his head. Living his life out with a woman who lit up his insides like a bonfire wouldn’t be unbearable. He just had to make it clear that as much as he wanted her, he wouldn’t love her. Couldn’t love her.

  And no. He didn’t want to be married. Had avoided it neatly for years. But the situation had changed. Duty was something he recognized, respected. And his duty here was clear.

  “I asked you to marry me, Kate. I’ll do my best by you and the baby. But I can’t promise more than that.”

  She nodded, and her hair fell forward, hiding her expression.

  “And something else you have to remember.” Might as well get this all out now as later. There were more than a couple of points they hadn’t gotten around to discussing yet. Points that would have a major impact on their lives.

  Her head snapped up and she looked at him.

  “My tour at Pendleton is almost over. In another six months or so, I’ll be transferred,” he reminded her.

  “I know that.” She hugged herself tightly.

  “And you just got here,” Tom continued, even though he knew she was aware of the situation. “You know as well as I do that married officers don’t always land the same assignment.”

  “I know the regulations as well as you do,” Kate muttered darkly. “Married officers are guaranteed three years out of every nine together.”

  “It’s not much,” he said, and a surprising part of him regretted it.

  “No, it’s not.” Her arms seemed to tighten around herself as if she was looking for stability.

  He didn’t blame her. Even though they would be married, a lot of the time, she might still be a single parent. Unless they took turns being primary parent. God, this was just getting more jumbled the deeper they got into it.

  “I want you to know, though,” he said, “when we decided to get married, I requested bases around here for my new assignment.”

  She looked at him then, but her eyes were unreadable. He wished he could say something—anything—that would take the defensiveness out of her posture. But there was nothing.

  “There’s no guarantee I’ll get one of the California bases, but I wanted you to know I’m trying.”

  She inhaled deeply and nodded. “None of this is going to be easy, Thomas. I know that. And appreciate what you’re doing. I really do.”

  “But?” he prompted, since he definitely heard an unspoken hesitation in her words.

  Kate shook her head.

  “At least we have this going for us,” he said, and he gave her a half smile.

  “This?” she whispered.

  “Sex,” he explained. “We share passion, and that’s more than a lot of people have.”

  “Passion tends to flare up and burn out. Then what?”

  “We’ve been ‘flaring’ now for three years,” he reminded her. “No sign of burnout yet.”

  “One week, once a year,” she muttered. “Heck, this isn’t even a full-fledged affair. It’s a yearly vacation with perks.”

  “And that’s bad?” His smile quirked a bit higher.

  “No,” she said almost to herself, shaking her head and pushing off the couch. As she collected her clothes, she continued. “But marriage has to be more than passion, Thomas. It has to be based on more than sex or that’s all we’ll ever have.”

  He watched her. Couldn’t help himself. As she bent over to pick up her dress and the bra he’d slipped off her shoulders, he admired the curve of her behind. And those garters and stockings were rekindling the fire he’d only just put out.

  Why did she have to make this more complicated than it already was? They’d made a baby together, and together they’d raise it. And along the way, they could enjoy each other.

  “I don’t know what you’re worried about, Kate,” he said softly. “There’s more than the sex between us. We get along. We like each other.”

  She straightened up, tossed her hair back out of her eyes and clutched her dress in front of her like some ancient talisman. “Now, there’s a high recommendation.”

  He met her gaze squarely, evenly. Swallowing back a slight simmer of irritation, he reached down and grabbed up his shorts and slacks. “Kate, I care for you. More than I have any other woman I’ve ever known.”

  She stiffened and tightened her grip on that dress.
<
br />   He stood up opposite her and dressed as he talked. “But I’m forty-five years old, Kate.”

  “This has nothing to do with—”

  “Thirteen years older than you.” He cut her off, continuing his little speech. “Old enough to know firsthand that love isn’t a cure-all for everything, and most often, it just botches things up right before it explodes in your face.”

  Lifting her chin, she said tightly, “I’m not asking for undying pledges of love here, Thomas.”

  “Then what?” His chest felt tight, as though an unseen hand was squeezing his heart in a cold fist.

  “If we’re going to be married, then I think we owe it to ourselves and our child to make it the best marriage we can.”

  Reasonable. “Agreed.”

  “With mutual respect,” she added.

  “I go along with that.”

  “And no more sex.”

  “What?” He stared at her, hoping to see a flash of humor in her eyes. But it wasn’t there. She meant what she was saying. “You can’t be serious. A celibate marriage?”

  She sniffed and pulled her dress on over her head. Wriggling into it, she shook her hair back from her face and stared at him. “At first, yes.”

  “At first?” He sounded like a damned parrot and didn’t really care. He clung to those two words like a drowning man snatching at a piece of driftwood.

  Kate inhaled slowly, deeply before speaking again in a calm, rational tone. “I just think it would be best if we didn’t sleep together right away. If we took our time.”

  He cocked his head and looked at her through wary eyes. “How much time?”

  “I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “However long it takes for us to get to know each other. Become friends.”

  A snort of laughter shot from his lungs. “Friends.” “What’s wrong with that?” she asked, glaring at him.

  “Kate,” Tom said, giving her a slow up-and-down look. “I’ve got lots of friends and not a one of them makes me want to strip them naked and carry them off to the forest primeval.”

  She flushed and he knew it was desire, not embarrassment that put the hot pink color in her cheeks. She might think she could live like a nun, but he was willing to bet he knew her better than that.

 

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