Part 13 (1/2)
”It hurt?” She frowned, not understanding.
He laughed even through his building desire. ”Ecstasy,” he whispered, holding her eyes. ”The little death. G.o.d, you sounded as if I were killing you. Wild little sobs, tears...”
”It was good,” she whispered, watching him. She lifted rhythmically, helping him, feeling the tremors start again down her spine. ”It was good, so good...! Oh, Ryder, Ryder...please...make me feel it again!”
He couldn't wait this time, and he didn't try. Her hunger was as sweeping as his. He pushed down against her with fierce, almost savage, movements and she clung with her last ounce of strength as the exquisite pleasure lifted them convulsively back into the throes of completion.
It was morning. Ivy's last memory was of Ryder folding her against him and drawing the sheet over them, his arms still faintly trembling from exertion, cradling her as her eyes closed.
She rolled over, but the bed was empty. She sighed. It seemed that she was never going to wake up in time to see Ryder leave.
She swung her long legs out of bed and stood up, stretching. Her eyes went to the sheet and she frowned at the stain there. Her lips parted on a puzzled intake of breath.
”Now do you see why it was like the first time?” came a quiet voice from behind her.
Her shocked eyes went to Ryder. Her mind wasn't working.
”Can't you work it out, little one?” Ryder asked from the doorway, sensual appreciation in his smile. He was already fully dressed, again, and apparently on the point of leaving.
”Work what out?” she faltered, reaching shyly for the robe he'd left behind and easing into it.
He moved closer, pulling her gently against him. ”Why it hurt at first.”
She searched his eyes and suddenly the puzzle fell into place. She blushed scarlet.
”That's right,” he murmured. ”You were still partially intact. I removed the rest of the barrier,” he breathed, his lips teasing her mouth. ”So in a sense, little one, I had part of your virginity last night.”
She moaned against his mouth and clung to him, feeling his ardor with a sense of pure wonder.
”Does it please you, knowing that?” he whispered, reeling from her headlong response.
”Yes!” Her eyes opened, wors.h.i.+ping him. ”I wanted you to be the first. Oh, I wanted you, for so long,” she whispered, letting it all out. ”When I was only fifteen, I used to watch you and dream about how it would be if you came to me in the night and made love to me!”
”What?” he asked hoa.r.s.ely.
His expression made her self-conscious. She faltered. ”I thought you knew,” she said. ”I told you that I never felt that way about Ben. It was because...because I only felt it with you, and he knew it.”
”Ivy, do you realize what you're saying?” he asked unsteadily. ”I didn't know! I never knew you'd wanted me like that, for a long time!”
”But I was sure you did. You avoided me after that night...” she reminded him.
”It was mutual. You avoided me like the plague and went running to Ben.”
”Because I knew I couldn't have you,” she whispered huskily. ”You didn't want me because I was too young; more like a sister than a lover. I thought that was what you were telling me without words when you stayed away from me. Even when you asked me for a date, that time, I thought it was just out of pity, because you knew how I felt about you. So when Ben asked me out, I went.”
He stopped breathing. ”G.o.d!” he said hoa.r.s.ely.
”What is it?”
He couldn't speak. He couldn't breathe. She'd wanted him. She hadn't known how he felt, because he'd thought she was too young. So he'd walked away and she thought it was rejection, so she'd married d.a.m.ned Ben. Ben had known that she wanted Ryder instead of him, and that was why he'd been cruel to her. His head whirled. He couldn't bear it.
”I've got to go and check on our plane reservations and wind up a few things,” he said roughly. ”I'll see you later.”
He went without looking back, preoccupied and solemn. And Ivy stared after him with her heart breaking, because she'd just told him how she felt and he'd walked away as if she had disgusted him.
Had he felt only desire, and now that it was satisfied, he didn't want the complication of her love for him? Was that it? Tears stung her eyes. Now what was she going to do?
Ryder deliberately didn't come back to the hotel until almost lunchtime. He'd said goodbye to his colleagues, double-checked the reservations, and then gone walking in the rain, trying to come to grips with what he'd done. Why hadn't he known how Ivy felt? Why hadn't he seen her hunger?
But he finally realized that hunger was all it was, perhaps mixed with affection and infatuation. Hunger was all she'd felt the night before. Ben had never fulfilled her, and now she knew what it was to be a whole woman. Ryder had given her that, and she was his because of it. But it wasn't love. It was more affection, infatuation and desire. And he wanted her love.
He felt guilty when he saw her puzzled unhappiness as he entered the room. He didn't know what to say to her now, to make things right again. He should never have touched her. Now she was aroused and whole, and she was going to want a full s.e.xual relations.h.i.+p that he couldn't give her. He cared too much to let what they'd shared turn into a casual affair.
He took off his hat and laid it on the table. ”Ivy,” he began quietly, his pale eyes searching her wounded black ones, ”we need to talk.”
”There's no necessity,” she said with what pride she could muster after his rejection that morning. She'd brooded on it all day, until she'd decided that the best way, the only way, was to pretend sophistication and let him off the hook. He didn't want marriage and she didn't want an affair, so this was the best way out for both of them. She could always blame her behavior on the madness of being in Paris.
”You don't have to explain anything,” she continued. She didn't try to understand the odd look on his face. She just plunged in. ”You were hungry and so was I. We...we satisfied a mutual need, that's all. You don't have to worry that I'll make things difficult for you.”
He sighed wearily. How could she put it like that? The satisfaction of a mutual need, when it had been so much more to him.
Her casual dismissal of their lovemaking angered him. Well, if it had meant so little to her, he sure as h.e.l.l wasn't going to tell her what it had meant to him. Two could play at that game. He lifted his chin and studied her wan face. She was wearing a simple black dress that made her look ever more pale, but it gave her a regal kind of elegance. How beautiful she was, he thought in anguish. And now for the rest of his life he had to remember her nude body sprawled over his bed, her mouth welcoming him, her long, soft legs sliding against his, her cries of pleasure echoing in his ears. He could have groaned out loud.
”I'm glad you understand,” he said tersely.
”I'm a grown woman, not a child,” she said, avoiding his eyes. ”It will be business as usual from now on. We'll just be friends, I...won't embarra.s.s you.”
”As if you could,” he muttered. ”But we've forfeited friends.h.i.+p, Ivy,” he said heavily.
She hesitated, because she didn't want to hear that. ”Have we?”
He laughed bitterly and poured a drink from the bar, something he couldn't seem to stop lately. ”You don't know.” He emptied the gla.s.s in one shot, his eyes dangerous. ”Then let me enlighten you. Every time you look at me for the rest of your life, you'll see me naked in your arms. And I'll see you the same way.”
She flushed and her hands clenched in her lap. ”It might be a good idea if I get another job.”
”That won't be necessary,” he said curtly. ”I'll be out of the country a good bit in the next few weeks, so it's more than likely you won't even have to see me.”
She lifted her wounded eyes to his. ”Ryder,” she whispered miserably.
Her turned away, his face unreadable. ”We'd better get to the airport, Ivy,” he said in a voice that was almost normal.
”I've already packed,” she said. ”I'll just check one last time.”
Not for one second would she admit that she was disappointed that they were leaving so soon. She'd wanted to see Paris, to visit the Eiffel Tower at least, but all they'd done was work. She colored as she checked the dresser drawers. No, that wasn't quite all they'd done, she thought, averting her eyes from the bed.
Her breath caught as her body reacted to the memory, making her tingle all over and long for Ryder. If only he'd come in and tell her that it was a mistake, that they were staying another week, that he wanted her again, that he loved her. She stared around the room one last time with a heartfelt sigh. Paris was a city for lovers, they said. Well, she and Ryder had been lovers, but only once really and if their lovemaking meant anything special to Ryder, it didn't show. He seemed much the same as usual, if a little more abrasive.