A Love for All Time (11 page)

“It’s all right,” he whispered, his voice husky, and she wanted to cry.

Because they had skipped lunch, they decided to have an early dinner. On the way back to the cabin they stopped at the supermarket. While Casey pushed the cart, Dan selected the groceries.

“Don’t get so much, unless you plan on sticking around here.” She laughed. “I’m leaving on Monday.”

“This food will be long gone by then. I have a huge appetite.”

Back at the cabin, Dan carried the two bags of groceries into the kitchen.

“What can I do to help?” Casey asked, a little intimidated by his expertise in selecting the steaks and the vegetables. What other surprises did he have in store for her?

“Nothing. This is my production. I don’t need an amateur cook in my way.” He grinned at her and punched her nose with a gentle finger.

Casey smiled up at him, pleased by their ease with one another. Ease? She was always conscious of the lean tautness of his body, of the whipcord strength of his arms, and the pulse throbbing in his brown throat just below the level of her eyes.

“I’m no dummy,” she said saucily. “I can take a hint.”

“Take a shower instead and put on something soft,” he commanded, but with a tenderness in his eyes that forced her into the humiliating necessity of having to control her quickening breath. “M’lady’s dinner will be served in about…” he consulted the gold watch strapped to his wrist, “one hour.”

“What about you?”

’That includes my shower, too. I’ll run over and get some clean clothes. I don’t want to drop sand in my salad.” He smiled into her eyes, the upturning of his lips engagingly boyish.

Under the shower, Casey told herself she wasn’t a starry-eyed teenager with unrealistic ideas about romance. Although there was absolutely no doubt
that Dan was the only man she had ever met who set her pulse throbbing, it was something else that made her fall in love with him. Although he was a big man, there was something vulnerable about him, something that made her want to gather him in her arms and hold him as if he were a child. Oh, hell! she groaned. Did she dare go to bed with him? Dare to reach for the chance to share that most intimate experience with the man she loved? What if she got pregnant? Was Dan one of those men who was always prepared with birth control devices in the glove compartment of his car? She shuddered, then wrenched off the shower. This was really crazy, she thought.

The closet was a curtained off end of the bathroom. Casey went through the clothes and rejected everything until she came to a blue and green Indian-print caftan with a high banded neck and loose three-quarter-length sleeves. She had made the garment several years before and had worn it many times. It was one of her favorites. She dried her hair and brushed it until it crackled, then arranged it around her face to cover her scar. She skillfully applied a light makeup, added a touch of pink gloss to her lips, and slipped into the caftan. She wouldn’t admit even to herself why her hands trembled as she fastened the small covered buttons up to the band at the neck.

Feeling an uncharacteristic shyness, she opened the door and stepped out into the main room. Dan’s whistle of appreciation confirmed what her
mirror had already told her. He was busy chopping vegetables but laid the knife down and came to her.

“Oh, gorgeous lady, I must have a quick kiss to speed me on my way to the shower.” He kissed her lightly on the nose. “You smell good. Better than onions and garlic.” He sniffed her neck, inhaling deeply.

“I should hope so!” She laughed. “This is my fifteen-dollar stuff.” She hoped he didn’t realize her stomach was doing a slow hula dance.

He drew back and they exchanged grins. “You’re trying to seduce me!” he said with mock alarm. “Do you plan to dance for your supper?”

“Better that than washing the dishes,” she quipped.

“Then don’t do a thing until I get back. Sit right here.” He eased her down on a stool beside the counter, brought an iced drink from the refrigerator, and placed it in front of her. He picked up a stack of clean clothes, the towel she had given him the night before folded neatly on top, and disappeared into the bathroom.

How strange that the two of them, so opposite in backgrounds and life-styles, could be together like this. Casey was thoughtful as she sipped the iced lime drink. It was almost as if they were married. But if that were the case, they would have showered together. No! Oh, God! She couldn’t bear the thought of standing naked beside his beautiful body and have him look at hers, so scarred and ugly.

“Get a grip on yourself, Casey,” she whispered out loud. In order to do so, she quickly turned her attention to Dan’s meal preparations.

Chopped tomatoes, spinach, and fresh cauliflower sat on the counter. Two thick rib-eye steaks waited to go under the broiler, while a pot on the range exuded a delicate odor she couldn’t identify.

Casey pulled the table from the wall and set two places. Dan stood in the bathroom doorway and rubbed his damp hair briskly with a towel. He had a quiet, questing look on his face.

“I can’t get over the feeling that you and I have been in a situation like this before. I almost feel as if I should look out the window and see if the Indians are coming.”

Casey was startled at the serious note in his voice. “You’re not kidding.”

“No, sweetheart.” He disappeared into the bathroom and came out seconds later with his damp hair brushed smoothly in place. “I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

“Well, I could have been Lucrezia Borgia and you could have been one of my … ah … victims,” she said lightly in an attempt to tease him out of his serious mood. It worked. He smiled and his dark eyes roamed over her.

“What a way to go.” He leered.

Dan insisted she sit on the stool and relax while he prepared dinner. He slid the steaks under the broiler. While they sizzled, he tossed the salad and sliced a fat loaf of sourdough bread. He spread the
slices with garlic butter and arranged them on a cookie sheet to place under the broiler when the steaks were done.

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” Casey asked curiously.

“In a logging camp when I was about sixteen.” He paused to lift the lid and stir the contents of the pot. “You’ll love my seasoned rice,” he said so smugly that she laughed. “I told you, my brothers worked the hell out of me. They turned me over to the camp cook, an old lumberjack named Joe Keenan. He was the best cook in ten counties and an even better diver for abalone. He taught me how to cook
and
how to dive.”

During the meal Dan told her about his younger years. How his brothers would bargain with him—work hard and keep your grades up and you can have a trip, a horse, a car. He was never
given
anything. He worked for wages like the rest of the crew.

“What I learned in the logging camps was—never make excuses, shoulder your load, and don’t back down from a bully.” They exchanged smiles across the table. “I got my nose broken more than once.”

“Oh, so that’s what moved it slightly off center. I thought it was from playing rugby.” Casey felt deliciously wicked. Her tawny-gold eyes danced and her delicate mouth smiled mischievously.

Dan touched his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
“Don’t you like my nose?” He raised his brows haughtily.

“I like it. But … it could be more … ah … this way.” She held her hand close to his face and made like jerky movements to the side.

His hand snaked out and grasped hers. “Woman! You’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’!” He flashed her a wide, happy smile.

They did the clean-up together. Casey was surprised at how neat he was. All the utensils he used were washed and dried and put back in exactly the places he had found them. The towels were left spread on the edge of the counter to dry.

“What shall we do now, m’lady?” he said lightly and studied her face in the overhead light. Suddenly he reached up and switched it off, but he continued to look searchingly at her in the romantic glow from the table lamp.

“What do you suggest?” She suddenly felt dwarfed by his aggressive maleness hovering over her. She stared up at him with wide eyes.

“Right now I’d just like to kiss you,” he said huskily and drew her to him.

Seven

D
an leaned against
the counter, his long legs spread wide. He drew her between them and pressed her against him intimately. His lips sipped at her neck, even now being careful of her ear. They moved around to kiss the scar on her cheek.

“Dan! No!” She gasped, her hands going to his chest to push him away.

“You say that word an awful lot.” He was kissing her throat just behind her ear, and refusing to allow her to move away from him. “Mmmm, your hair is as feathery and soft as the wing
of a wood duck,” he murmured, nuzzling it again. “Smells good, too.”

“Dan … please

“I want to make love to you.” His lips moved to her face, his hands to her hips. “I want to love you here in this cabin, as I feel I’ve loved you before, with the wolves howling at the door and the Indians just over the next ridge.” Their breaths mingled as his lips hovered over hers.

Under his stroking hands, Casey’s body went slack with sensuousness, pressing softly against him. Her arms went up around his neck, her fingers twisting in the rough black hair at the nape. His lips rubbed seductively against hers and desire flooded her mind, obliterating all reason. She was ready for him and wondered wildly how she could so easily shake off her qualms about making love without commitment. Hungrily, blindly, she sought his mouth, and her kiss conveyed the deep heat in her body which was about to flare out of control. Whatever the future held, she thought, tonight belonged to her and Dan. One night out of a lifetime wasn’t asking too much. Whatever the consequences, she’d meet them later. She wasn’t going to deny herself the ecstatic pleasure of being caressed by this big, gentle man. His mere touch stirred wanton lusts she hadn’t dreamed she was capable of experiencing.

“Sweetheart?” He lifted his head. His eyes were filled with an intense expression. She saw hunger, lust, possession, and something more, much more
…loving concern for her. It stopped her breath. “Oh, sweetheart…”

His arms, like rigid bands, closed about her and she could feel the evidence of his want, firm and hard, against her. She throbbed with responsive want, with the urgent need to be filled. Their mouths met with equal fervor—hot, searching, insistent. She clutched him to her, desperate in her desire to possess and be possessed.

“Darling…!” Her mouth moved a fraction and the word came from the center of her being.

“Am I, sweetheart? Am I your darling?” his voice was hoarse. His eyes were very close and flared with warmth. Little flecks of green seemed to float in the dark gray, like atoms around the black nucleus of his pupil. Her own amber eyes were caught by his and a half smile hovered at his mouth.

Casey’s mind suddenly snapped alive. Had she really uttered that word? With a deep breath, she hid her face against his neck. “Yes, you are my darling,” she whispered. “Please turn off the lamp.”

“Mmmm … you taste like fresh peach ice cream.” His lips made small nibbles along the side of her neck.

Casey turned in his arms and would have moved away, but he held her back pressed to his chest. “Turn off the lamp,” she said desperately.

His large hands covered her stomach, which drew in at the touch of his fingers. He made circling movements. The caftan slid smoothly over her skin.

“Is it so important?” he whispered in her ear. His fingers moved lower and pressed against the cushioned bone between her thighs … pressed firmly, thrillingly until her buttocks were tight against the zipper of his jeans.

“Yes. Don’t make me beg…” she said with a muffled groan.

He released her instantly and she turned and leaned on the counter so she didn’t see him cross the room to the lamp on the table beside the bed. She closed her eyes and when she opened them the room was dark and the soft rustle told her Dan was undressing. Her hands went to the buttons on the caftan, but she was trembling so much it was difficult to undo them. Then he was turning her and she leaned against warm skin and silky chest hair. Casey felt an odd glow, a small swelling sensation, somewhere between the legs that parted to welcome the intrusion of a muscular thigh.

“It’s been so … long…” she whispered into the curve of his neck.

“Thank God,” he murmured against her dewy skin. His mouth found hers and he kissed her long and deep while a thumb feathered her cheek. His hand smoothed over the fabric that covered her. “How do I get you out of this?” he asked anxiously.

Casey moved back from his arms and pulled the garment over her head and let it fall to the floor. Instantly his hands were on her waist pulling her back to him, her softness against his hardness. The thick, crinkly brush on his chest tickled her breast
before cushioning it. His hands roamed her back and slid into the thin panties that covered her hips.

“Ahhh!” He eased away the only barrier between them. “You feel so…wonderful. It’s like I’ve waited all my life for this.” The panties fell to the floor; she stepped out of them and her high heeled slings.

There were a hundred reasons why she shouldn’t be doing this, but she was in such a passionate frenzy that nothing mattered except Dan. No man had kissed her and caressed her like this. No man had ever awakened the sleeping passion that Dan had awakened. None of this should have happened, but now that it had, she was fiercely happy. In the safety of the darkness she slid her arms about his neck and pressed herself to him. Her face was raised to his, and he took her mouth, teased it with his tongue, parted her lips, and let his tongue mingle with hers. He moaned into her open mouth, one large hand on her back, the other on her hips pressing her flat stomach to his, the evidence of his passion hot and hard between them.

“Will I hurt you, darling, if I pick you up?” he whispered, his mouth sa close to hers that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her wet lips. She thought crazily that he tasted of sweet mint tea.

“No,” she said softly. “No one has picked me up, but you, since I was a little girl.”