Part 12 (1/2)

”Such big eyes,” he murmured, smiling. ”Turn it around. Would you lie nude in the arms of any other man and let him do to you what I did?”

She gasped. It had only just occurred to her that she was nude!

He stopped her frantic grasp for the sheet. ”Your body belongs to me, now,” he said softly. ”You gave it to me, remember? I won't shame it, or use it selfishly, or put it at risk, so there's no reason to hide it from my eyes. I could live on the sight of you like that,” he said tautly, studying her with bold, possessive eyes.

She was half sitting, and his eyes told her that it was true. They touched her with something bordering on reverence. She couldn't seem to move. At the same time, her gaze lowered to his own body, and it dawned on her that she felt the same way. She'd never seen anyone who could compare with him.

He took a slow, shuddering breath, aware as she must be now of the helpless reaction of his body to her. He turned and stretched out on the bed with a long sigh. ”G.o.d, what you do to me!” he laughed ruefully. ”Turn out the light, sweetheart, and come here.”

”You won't...?” She hesitated.

He shook his head. ”Your mother would strangle us both for what we've already done. We'd better go to sleep before we get in over our heads. Okay?”

She smiled gently. ”Okay.”

There were, of course, fifty good reasons why she should have put her gown back on and gone back to her own room. But she slid into his arms, feeling with awe the delicate sensation of soft skin against hair-roughened skin as he enfolded her in his arms and drew her cheek to his chest.

”n.o.body will just walk in, will they?” she asked nervously, because they were lying on top of the bedclothes.

He kissed her closed eyelids. ”No one will see us like this,” he whispered. ”Go to sleep, my darling.”

She wasn't sure that he'd said that, but it sounded like it. And if she liked believing that he had, well, it didn't hurt anyone.

He had said it, of course. He waited until he was certain she was asleep. Then he lifted himself and looked at her sleeping face. She cared for him. Probably more than she even knew, just yet. He could have danced on the bed. Right now it was only physical, but that didn't mean it wouldn't grow. He lay back down eventually, drunk on the sight and sound and feel of her. He curled her into his body, aroused all over at the warm softness so trusting in his arms. But he did, finally, sleep, at peace for the first time in years.

When Ivy woke up the next morning, he was fully dressed, standing beside the bed looking at her hungrily. Her body was sprawled across the sheets in a pose that was frankly inviting, and he s.h.i.+vered as his eyes slid back up to hers.

She'd been dreaming. She didn't remember what, but he'd been in it, and her body, attuned now to the wonder of fulfillment, knew what he could give it. She wanted him. She arched her hips delicately, her eyes half-closed, and her nipples suddenly went hard.

”My G.o.d,” he ground out in a tormented voice.

His sudden paleness, the tautening of his body, brought her completely awake. ”Ryder?” she faltered, levering herself up on her elbows.

He had to force himself to speak. Everything male in him ached to throw off his clothes and take her in a savage fury of hunger. She was fire, and he wanted to fall into it, be consumed by it. But he couldn't. He could lose control very easily right now. It was too risky.

”I'm on my way to the conference,” he said through his teeth. ”I should be back by one.”

”All right.” She flushed at his bold gaze, and the night before seemed suddenly unreal and embarra.s.sing. She reached for the sheet and shyly covered herself with it. ”I'll...I'll get the conference notes checked and corrected. I was too tired last night.” A blatant lie. She was simply too hurt and miserable after Ryder had left her in the restaurant.

His jaw tautened. ”You do that,” he said.

He turned and stormed out of the room without a backward glance, cursing his own vulnerability, his helplessness. He'd had women on his terms all his life, but not until Ivy had come into it had he known this depth of vulnerability. She had him on his knees, and all they'd done was some very heavy petting. G.o.d, if he ever made love to her completely, he wouldn't be in possession of his own soul anymore! He'd looked down at her and knew that he was lost, that he'd do anything she asked, that he'd be helpless for the rest of his life because he loved her so much.

He went blindly out of the suite, and the outer door slammed behind him furiously.

Ivy agonized all day over what had set him off. Was he regretting, as she was, their uncharacteristic encounter? Perhaps she shouldn't have gone near him. But what he'd given her starved body had been worth the embarra.s.sment. She groaned silently remembering the hot, fierce sensations that had carried her away at the last. And he'd watched. She'd let him look at her, in that intimacy...!

She couldn't look at herself in the mirror without blus.h.i.+ng. Imagine shy little Ivy pus.h.i.+ng him back onto the bed, he'd said. He couldn't believe it, and she certainly couldn't. Ryder had been, up until this morning, the best friend she had. Now she wasn't sure what he was-a friend or a future lover or something caught in between.

She wondered if he'd even speak to her again. Perhaps he was embarra.s.sed, too. Surely he didn't make a habit of telling his women how long he'd gone without s.e.x, or letting himself get into that helpless state of need.

But he'd had women, she realized suddenly. He'd known exactly how to reduce her to a mindless wanton. His touch had been skilled and expert, like the hard mouth that had seduced hers.

She hated them all. She hated every woman who'd ever lain in his arms and admitted the fierce possession of his body. His body...

She s.h.i.+vered. Such power and strength, such masculine perfection. He'd let her see him helpless, he'd let her make him helpless. She remembered the way he'd looked, his fists clenched at the headboard, his powerful body arched and convulsing, his face contorted while he cried out in the ecstasy of satisfaction.

She went hot all over. He'd said that making love fully was like that. But it wasn't. She knew making love fully hurt. It was quick and uncomfortable.

On the other hand, Ryder had been very slow and thorough with her, and she'd felt a staggering pleasure. Wouldn't he be just like that if she allowed him to...

She swallowed, feeling feverish. What would it be like to lie under that powerful body and feel the expert control of his hands and mouth? Her eyes closed and she could picture it: her body arching, his lean hands jerking her hips up against his, his face hard and damp, his breathing jerky and quick as he increased the rhythm of his hard thrusts, her own delighted cries of pleasure...

”Oh, G.o.d!” she burst out, shuddering.

She went into the bathroom and turned the shower on full. Stripping off her gown, she climbed under the cold spray, welcoming the shock of it. Life had suddenly become very complicated.

Chapter 9.

It was the worst day of Ivy's entire life. Ryder was the soul of courtesy for the rest of the day, and he didn't refer once to what had happened or even to his own inexplicable temper when he'd left the suite. He was remote, as he'd been before so many times. Only this was worse, because something was simmering under it.

She didn't know why, either. If he'd regretted their night together, wouldn't he have said so? Or was he saying so, with his rigid manner and businesslike demeanor?

She only knew that her frustration was killing her. A short month ago she hadn't known what desire or fulfillment really were. Now she did, and she wanted Ryder in every way that a woman was capable of wanting a man. She dreamed of him, ached for him, would have died for him. But he apparently didn't notice her waking fever, even though she trembled when he came close, even though her eyes must have been eloquent when she looked at him.

He'd announced over a brief working lunch, that they were going home tomorrow, and she didn't know how she was going to live. Maybe it would be for the best, of course. Out of sight, out of mind, and he didn't spend that much time in the office these days. But thinking about the future didn't help the present.

She'd already told him a stiff, impersonal good-night and gone to her room. But even the touch of her light gown on her burning skin was painful. She threw it off and sprawled on the cool coverlet, arching helplessly as she thought about Ryder. Her long hair framed her flushed, hungry face like a black halo. She could only imagine how she looked. Wanton, probably, and she didn't care. Her body ached as if with a killing fever. At least the coverlet cooled her a little. She should get up and turn off the light, but she was too miserable to care.

The door opened unexpectedly, and Ryder walked in. His taut face went even harder at the sight of her. He was wearing a black toweling robe and nothing else, and his straight black hair was damp from the shower that hadn't taken his mind off Ivy. Now, looking at her, it was easy to see why. He'd tried, G.o.d knew he'd tried, to keep away from her. But he couldn't bear it any longer. He'd heard her restless movements, her quick breathing, just as she'd heard his the night before. Or maybe he'd sensed it, because he seemed to be perfectly attuned to her lately.

He slammed the door behind him with fierce purpose and threw off his robe as he approached the bed.

Ivy didn't move. He was unashamedly aroused and not bothering to hide his body from her rapt gaze. She saw the intent in his eyes even before he lay down beside her, arching over her to let his eyes feast on her delicate contours, on her flawless pink skin.

She moved hungrily, her eyes glazed with desire, her blood on fire. ”I want you,” she whispered helplessly. ”I'm sorry, but I can't help it. I want you so badly, Ryder! I can't bear the ache!”

”Yes, I know how it feels. It's all right. I want you just as much.” He bent to brush his mouth lovingly over her parted lips, his brows drawing together with pure ecstasy as he felt her lips eagerly opening under his. ”We'll make a little love, and then maybe we can both sleep,” he breathed into her mouth.

But as his hand slid down her warm, soft belly, she caught it.

He lifted his head to meet her feverish eyes.

”No,” she whispered, her voice shaking. ”I want you. All of you.”

His face clenched. ”Ivy...”