If Ever I Loved You (14 page)

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Authors: Phyllis Halldorson

BOOK: If Ever I Loved You
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She eyed him warily. "What do you want?"

He patted the space beside him. "I want you to sit with
me."

She stood where she was. "There isn't room."

"Of course there is," he said. "Come on, I'm not going to
bite you, tempting though the thought is."

He looked so appealing, almost boyish, pleading with those
incredibly blue eyes. Why didn't she have the good sense to stay away
from him? she wondered as she moved slowly in the direction of the
lounger. There were plenty of chairs; the smart thing to do would be to
change direction and sit in one out of touching distance from him, but
she didn't. She continued in a straight course until she was standing
beside him.

Again he patted the narrow space next to him and
reluctantly she sat down as he reclined beside her. He picked up her
hand and brought it to his lips, then turned it over and licked the
palm, sending shivers through her in all directions. She tried to pull
away, but he moved it to his smooth cheek and rubbed the back of it
gently against him in a caressing movement.

He was behaving like a child starved for affection and
without being conscious of willing it her hand began to move on its
own. She stroked upward to his brow and smoothed back an errant lock of
golden hair. It was springy, alive under her fingertips, and she
threaded her fingers through it, carefully massaging his head as she
explored the back and sides of it.

She wasn't aware of his arms around her until she felt
herself being guided downward and she twisted around so that she could
stretch out beside him. He held her securely but without pressure
against the length of him and she had no wish to resist, instead she
relaxed with her head on his shoulder.

They lay quietly for a while and listened to the whisper
of the breeze in the trees and the lapping of the surf on the shore.
Finally Gina broke the silence. "This is the most incredible place. You
enter the house from the forest and exit onto the beach."

"Do you like it?" Peter asked lazily.

"It's straight out of a dream," she answered. "The type of
home women long for but never expect to have."

"Will you live here with me?"

She found that it took all of her resolve to answer that
question with a whispered, "no," instead of the insistent
yes
that hovered on her tongue.

He sighed and lowered his head to kiss the top of hers.
"If I agree to live with you as brother and sister, to give you your
own room with a key to lock it against me, will you stay?"

Gina tilted her head back and looked up at him in
amazement. "That's ridiculous!" she yipped. "We'd be in bed together
before the first night was over and you know it."

He chuckled. "I'm afraid you're right, but my intentions
were honest."

She settled her head back on his shoulder and put her arms
around his waist. He cradled her lovingly but made no attempt to kindle
the desire that burst into flame so easily between them. She was
surprised by his restraint, but she realized that it was probably a
self-protective measure. He was very male and programmed to be easily
and urgently aroused. It must have been even more agonizing for him to
be stopped abruptly at the last moment than it was for her.

That thought took her back to his offer to live with her
without sex. Why did he propose that? She knew it wasn't done
capriciously or to tease. He'd been serious, but why? He wanted her,
that much was obvious. He'd always wanted her, even enough to marry her
against all the opposition, the difference in their backgrounds, and
his own good sense. Now after a separation of seven years he still
wanted her, but this time he'd made no pretense of being in love with
her. He didn't care about her, he'd told her that only a few hours ago,
and still he offered to leave her untouched if that's what it took to
get her to live with him.

It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense anymore. Here she
was curled up in an intimate embrace with a man she was supposed to
hate and her only regret was that she couldn't lie like this with him
forever.

His hold on her had relaxed slightly and his heart beat in
a strong steady rhythm beneath her ear. He was asleep. She turned her
head carefully and kissed the hollow at the base of his throat then
wiggled into a more comfortable position against him. He grunted
contentedly and she closed her eyes and let the lullaby of the ocean
rock her to sleep.

At first she was only aware of the tingle that caused the
muscles in the pit of her stomach to tighten, but as she struggled
upward through the warm drowsiness she felt the hand stroking her bare
breast and the lips that were nuzzling the sensitive side of her neck.
Her own hand moved against a rough material that felt like fine spun
wool which encased a solid substance that twitched under her touch.

Gina opened her eyes and gazed into Peter's deep blue
ones, smoky now with passion. She blinked and looked down at where her
hand rested just below his hip on the outside of his thigh. The
material she felt was his gray slacks, and under them the muscles of
his thigh were definitely twitching.

She removed her hand, confused and embarrassed, but he
left off fondling her breast to put her hand back to its original
position. "Leave it there," he said. "I like it."

She liked it too, and she liked it even more when he
returned his attention to the rapidly hardening nipple on the firm
white mound he'd been caressing. She realized that he'd unbuttoned her
blouse and unfastened the front clasp on her mauve satin bra. For a
moment she was sorry. It meant that they could no longer lie quietly in
each other's arms. That soon, very soon, she'd have to stop him and
experience the pain of unfulfillment all over again.

He dipped his head and taunted her breast with his lips
before taking the dark, throbbing tip in his mouth. The tingle in her
stomach had spread down her legs and unconsciously her fingers began to
knead his thigh. He moaned with pleasure and moved his leg over both of
hers as he pushed on her hips bringing her against him in such a way
that she was shatteringly aware of his urgent need for her.

"Gina. Oh Gina," he murmured huskily. "I want you so
badly." His hand went to the zipper on her purple corduroys. "I didn't
mean for this to happen, but I made the mistake of going to sleep,
letting down my defenses. When I woke up and found you in my arms
I—I couldn't help it."

He unzipped her zipper and slipped his hand under her
slacks to rest on her quivering stomach. His breathing was ragged as he
sought and found her eagerly parted lips. She put her arms around his
neck and pulled him even closer as her tongue met his. Her trembling
body was on fire and she had no thought of stopping him. She couldn't
if she wanted to and she didn't want to.

He rolled over until his body nearly covered hers and she
welcomed him with her mouth, and her hands and her whispered words of
wanting. They were both so overpowered by the sensations that flowed
between them that they were aware of nothing but the throbbing urgency
of their terrible need to be one in body as well as soul.

It wasn't surprising that they didn't hear the commotion
inside the house or the heavy glass door being slid open. It wasn't
until two childish voices yelling "Uncle Peter, Uncle Peter, surprise!"
burst through the haze of passion that they came to the appalling
realization that they were no longer alone.

Gina and Peter tore themselves apart and Gina, who had her
back to the house, looked over her shoulder to see Johnny and Sonja
being held back by their mother, Peter's sister Lillian. Behind them
were an older but still recognizable Hans and Bertha Van Housen:
Peter's parents, who stood rigid, their faces a study of shock and
embarrassment.

Chapter Nine

Gina's entire body burned with guilt and humiliation and
she instinctively turned again toward Peter and buried her face in his
sweater-clad chest as she held her gaping blouse together with shaking
hands. Oh dear Lord, how could she have been so wanton as to let Peter
practically undress her right here in the open in broad daylight? And
the position they'd been in! It must have looked obscene, and to think
that the children…

Peter swore and held her close, stroking his fingers
through her hair in a comforting gesture as he barked grimly, "What are
you doing here?"

Gina recognized Lilly's voice although it had lost its
usual confident timbre. "Pete, I'm sorry. Mom and Dad wanted to see the
house. We had no idea—look, we'll wait for you in the
library."

Gina heard the children protest as Lilly ordered them into
the house
immediately
, along with the sound of
scuffling feet before the glass door slid closed. She was shivering
uncontrollably, not from cold but from shattered nerves. Peter's arms
tightened about her and he spoke forcefully. "Gina, it's all right.
We've done nothing wrong. We're married and we're in our own home. We
have a perfect right to make love anywhere we want to on our own
property."

"I want to die!" Her voice was jerky and somewhat muffled
in his chest.

He nuzzled her temple. "Don't talk like that," he said
harshly. "They had no right to come bursting in that way. I didn't
invite them here. Come now, pull yourself together and we'll go in and
see what they want."

"No!" It was more a scream than a statement. "I couldn't
face them! I don't ever want to see them again. Take me home, Peter. Oh
please, take me home."

He gripped her by the shoulders and shook her gently.
"Stop that, sweetheart, I'm not going to take you anywhere. You are
home, and as soon as we get you all buttoned and snapped back up we're
going to go in there and establish that fact once and for all."

He pulled the front ends of her bra together and fastened
them, then started buttoning her blouse. She made no move to help but
sat shaking her head from side to side. "No, Peter, there's no reason
for me to face your family. They never did like me, and now they have
even more reason not to. They must think I'm no better than a
streetwalker!"

He clapped his hand across her mouth and now he was really
angry. "That's enough! I'll not tolerate that kind of talk."

He removed his hand and started tucking her blouse under
her opened slacks. "If you don't like the way my parents treat you then
do something about it," he advised her. "Tell them to either shape up
or get out."

Gina stared at him uncomprehendingly. "But—but
they're your family."

He shook his head. "
You're
my family,
and this is your house. You don't have to put up with anything in it
that you don't want to." He grinned teasingly. "Except from me, of
course."

The teasing smile disappeared as quickly as it had come.
"I'm serious, Gina," he said. "Seven years ago you were too young and
immature to stand up to Dad and Mother and I tried to protect you, but
now you're a full-grown woman, and a feisty one. You can and do fight
your own battles. I should know, I've got the scars to prove it. Now,
we're going in there and confront them and if they give you any trouble
light in to them the way you do to me. I guarantee they'll back down."

She brushed his hands away from their fumbling attempts to
close the zipper on her slacks and fastened it herself. "Why should
they do that? You never do," she questioned.

He kissed her on the tip of her nose. "Oh, but I do, love.
You slash me to ribbons every time we get together, but I keep coming
back for more." He frowned, "I can't think what's wrong with me. No one
has ever treated me the way you do and been given a second chance."

Gina was still cradled full length against Peter in a
protective embrace, but she was calmer now. Her hands trembled but she
wasn't shaking as violently as she had been. For a moment she was
tempted to do as Peter asked, march in the house and tell his parents
and sister that they could either accept her on her own terms or leave.
It was a huge temptation. Hans and Bertha Van Housen had considered her so totally
unacceptable for their youngest son that they hadn't even taken her
seriously until Peter announced that he was going to marry her. After
that they'd tried every way they could to break it up, and she knew
they'd been delighted when their appraisal of her was apparently
vindicated and Peter left her without even consummating the marriage.

Oh yes, it was tempting to throw a few of their own rocks
back at them, but it was too late now. There would just be a painful
scene and they would still win. She had no intentions of living here
with Peter as his wife, so it would be childish to stir up trouble in
the Van Housen household.

She rolled away from him and stood on her still rubbery
legs. She straightened her rumpled clothes and said, "I don't want to
confront your family, Peter, there's nothing to be gained. I'll never
live here with you. You can delay my petition for dissolution from
being heard for a while but when we finally go to court I'll win and
you know it. Now I'm going home. If you won't take me I'll walk into
Albion and hire someone to drive me to Mendocino."

She turned and started to walk toward the redwood steps
that led to the beach but Peter quickly stepped in front of her and
held her by both arms. "Oh no, Gina, you're not going to run away
again!"

"Again!" she raged. "It wasn't me who ran away after we
were married! You walked out and left me to face my family and friends,
not to mention the newspaper reporters and curious bystanders. I didn't
run away, I was forced to move out of San Francisco in order to
preserve my sanity. Now step aside and let me go."

His fingers tightened painfully on her upper arms and for
a few seconds he glared at her with a rage almost equal to her own.
Then, unexpectedly, his grim features softened and he dropped his hands
from her arms and nodded with a weary resignation. "All right, I'll
take you home," he said quietly and led her down the steps onto the
beach and around the side of the house to his ebony Jaguar.

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