Justin's Bride (36 page)

He cupped her face, then slipped his fingers through her long hair. He drew back slightly and swept his tongue across her mouth, moistening her, then sucking her lower lip until her breathing increased. He kissed her cheeks, her nose, then nibbled the edge of her chin. Lower and lower he kissed along her neck, until he reached the curve of the chain. There he bit down, making her jump, tasting her sensitized skin. He could feel a shiver as it raced through her. The hands on his body stilled as her attention focused on what he was doing.

After tracing patterns on her back, he lowered her to the bed and slipped between her knees. Her thighs parted willingly. He moved closer, until his crotch rested against her blond curls. He could feel the heat there. It burned him through the layer of his clothing. She rotated slightly, but he ignored the invitation. Not yet.

He bent over her and touched her breasts. Veins showed through, a faint blue line against pale skin. He traced the path with his tongue, then circled her already erect nipple. The small rose-colored point strained toward him. Her eyes fluttered closed and her head arched back in anticipation. He blew softly on the tip, but didn't touch it. He repeated the procedure with her other trembling breast, tracing the faint line, circling the sweet curves, savoring the taste and the anticipation.

He sat up and stroked between her breasts to her midsection, across her hips and close, temptingly close to her woman's place. Her hands curled into the coverlet. He reached for her wrists and brought her fingers to his chest. Eagerly she brushed against him, rubbing the hair, searching for his male nipples. When she found one, he sucked in his breath as sensation shot through him.

Her hips flexed against him. Up and down, she pressed herself along his hard length. He wondered if she was aware of what she was doing. He captured one of her hands and drew her first two fingers into his mouth. She tasted faintly salty. He licked the tips of her fingers, then bit down gently. When her skin was wet, he moved her hand back to his chest. Those damp fingers now toyed with his nipple, pulling it gently and teasing it into a tighter need.

He glanced down at her face. Her eyes were open and she watched the play of her hands along his body. There was nothing shy in her expression. Curiosity diluted by passion, perhaps, but no fear.

“Does that feel nice?” she asked and raised her other hand toward his mouth. He sucked on her fingers, then released her. She touched her damp skin to his nipple and squeezed gently.

“Yes,” he said hoarsely, fighting the need to unbutton his trousers and bury himself in her waiting moistness. He leaned forward, pressing into her attentions. Her hips kept up their rhythmic assault on his self-control. The heat between them grew as he felt his clothing dampen from her body.

He sucked in a curse, then bent over her and drew her left nipple into his mouth. The tight bud tasted sweet. He touched his tongue to the sensitive point, then circled around. She moaned his name. Her hands kneaded his shoulders and his back, until mindlessly they slipped onto the bed. Her head twisted back and forth.

Again and again he drew her into his mouth. He toyed with her until her body was coated with perspiration and her legs trembled. Until rubbing her woman's place against him had left him as wet as her. Only then did he dip his head lower so he could kiss her belly. Her skin quivered. Her hands clung to the coverlet. Lower still, until he could feel the soft curls, then lower and lower until he touched his mouth to her most sensitive place.

She jumped. When she started to raise herself and say his name, he pushed her legs back and apart, exposing her fully to him. He began at the place that would shortly give him respite and slowly drew his tongue up to the tiny spot of her pleasure.

Her questions got lost in her gasp. He focused on that spot, circling it, loving it, gently, teasingly, drawing her tighter and tighter still. He listened for the sound of her breathing, for the ragged gasps and half-formed moans. He felt her body quiver and shake as pleasure rippled through her. He felt the sudden tensing as she neared her completion and he tasted her sweetness. He released her legs, but they stayed splayed apart. She dug her heels into the mattress and pressed her hips higher, her woman's place harder against him. He tasted her sweet saltiness and knew he could spend the rest of his life loving her this way.

Her hips thrust up again, then locked. He loved her quicker now, light, fast movements that sent her body into spasms. She called out his name, the word broken by a single sob.

He held her as she cried, feeling the tears on his bare chest. He kissed them from her face, then was still as she kissed him back and tasted her own sweetness. He allowed her to unbutton his trousers and caress him as he sprang free. When the tentative stroking brought him too close to the edge of madness, he tossed away his clothing and swept her onto her back.

There, buried in the wet tightness that massaged every inch of him, the pain at last eased. In those few moments of pure pleasure, he forgot. As her body matched rhythm with his, he told himself it would be like this always, and for once he didn't mock his own lie. As the ecstasy exploded and she held him close, he waited for the inevitable return of the ache.

When they were both still, he spoke at last. “Why did you come to me?”

Megan stretched against him, looking as contented as a cat in front of a fire. Her naked legs tangled with his, her hand rested on his chest. “We're married, Justin. A husband and wife should sleep together.”

“I suppose.”

“You don't mind?”

She raised her head as if she wanted to stare at him. He placed his hand on her hair and pressed her back into place so that her cheek rested on his shoulder. “I don't mind.”

How could he mind? It was all he'd dreamed of. It would kill him later, but without her, what did that matter?

“I'm glad. I thought about a lot of things while you were gone.” With each word, her breath puffed out along his chest. It tickled. He didn't want her to ever leave him.

“I'm sure you did.”

“You said you loved me.”

“I know.” His telling her had been a mistake, a moment of weakness. But he didn't call back the words.

“Do you really?”

He closed his eyes against the light of the lantern. “Yes.”

“But you can't forgive me?”

“No.”

“I understand.”

He doubted that she did, but it didn't matter. His fingers glided over her back and down to her rounded derriere. He squeezed. She hugged him closer.

“Justin, I—”

He knew what she was going to say even before she spoke the words. He didn't want to hear them. Not now. Not like this. Not when he had no way to protect himself. He wouldn't listen. But he had to.

“I love you, too,” she said.

He'd expected the pain, so it shouldn't have surprised him. Still, as the agony ripped through him, he couldn't help stiffening against the hurt. His breath caught in his throat and his heart pounded painfully against his ribs.

“Justin, what's wrong?”

He sat up slowly and turned until his feet slid off the bed to the carpeted floor.

“Justin?” She touched his back. “What is it? You're frightening me.”

“It's nothing.”

“But—”

He shook his head. “Leave it alone, Megan. It doesn't matter.”

“Of course it matters. I just told you I love you and you act like I stabbed you or something. Tell me. Are you afraid of what that means? Am I being difficult? Didn't you want me to love you?”

He jerked his body around until he was facing her. She'd sat up and her long hair tumbled over her bare breasts. How was he supposed to walk away from her? “Stop saying that,” he ordered.

“Why? What's so terrible about me saying that I love you?”

“I don't believe you.”

Megan stared at the man who had just touched her so intimately. The face, the body, even the voice was familiar. But she didn't know him. She couldn't. Her Justin would believe her, while this dangerous stranger simply stared at her with empty eyes.

“You can't mean that,” she whispered, too numb to feel anything but shock and surprise. This wasn't true. It couldn't be happening. Not after what they'd just shared.

“Dammit, Megan, don't look so stunned. Did you think I was blind?”

“I—” She didn't know what to say.

He shook his head in disgust. “When I first came back here, you were terrified to be seen with me. You were worried about your precious reputation more than anything.”

She winced. “That's not fair. I explained about my father and what he did.”

“Yes, you did.” He leaned close to her and brushed his finger against her cheek. “I'm sorry about what happened with your mother. I understand how it must have hurt and frightened you. But that was a long time ago. You're not that little girl anymore. I think you're using what happened then to excuse your fear now. You wouldn't risk anyone's knowing we had once been engaged, because you were afraid of what people would think. Now that I'm acceptable, it's all right to be seen with me, even to be married to me.”

“I came to your hotel room, Justin. I purposely destroyed my reputation. Don't you dare tell me I care anymore what other people think.”

He dropped his gaze to the rumpled bed. For the first time, she became aware of their nakedness. She wanted to pull the sheet over her, but was afraid of what he would say to that. She shook her head slightly so that her hair covered her breasts and tried not to think about the rest of her body being exposed.

“You reacted out of anger and frustration,” he said quietly. “Your unconventional behavior had nothing to do with how you cared about me. If anything, you used my feelings against me. You knew I couldn't resist you.”

Now it was her turn to look away. Shame crawled over her, leaving her skin hot and tight. He was right. She'd never thought that Justin would turn her away if she went to him. She hadn't planned on staying long enough for them to become intimate, but she had expected him to go along with her plan. Even when they'd spent the night together and she'd been frightened about what she'd done, she trusted Justin to protect her. And he had. He'd married her.

“You must hate me,” she whispered, fingering the edge of the sheet and pleating the white linen between her fingers.

“No, never that. But I do know you. At the first sign of trouble, you'll turn away again.”

“I won't.” She looked up at him. “I swear, I won't. I've changed. I've grown up. I'm not that frightened young woman you knew seven years ago. I've had time to think about things.”

“It's not different. Seven years ago, you claimed to love me and look what happened.”

“Don't compare me now to who I was then. I've already admitted I was very young and afraid of what people would say. This is different.”

“No, it's not.”

He rose to his feet and towered over her. He seemed not to notice his nakedness, but she was aware of his body that had so recently joined with hers. How could they have shared such intimate passion and now be arguing? How could he do those things to her, make her feel so exquisite and then not trust her?

“I don't believe you,” he said. “Just this evening, you said how pleased you were that the town had accepted me.”

“I was happy for
you,
” she said, staring up at him. “Not for myself. I want you to be happy here, with Landing and with me. You're deliberately twisting what I said. Why would I lie about loving you? Why would I pretend?”

“Because it amuses you to control me. You've always enjoyed the power you've had over me.”

The unfairness of his accusations left her speechless. She stared at him and knew there was no way to reach him this night. Perhaps not ever.

She studied his face, his expressionless eyes and the dark hair that drifted to his eyebrows. She looked at his broad shoulders and the chest she'd caressed just a few minutes before. How could he have done that with her, all the while thinking of her as so shallow and cruel? She swallowed and tasted bitterness and defeat.

“You used me,” she said, and shuddered. Suddenly, her nakedness was too much for her. She scrambled off the side of the bed and reached for her robe. The thin silk offered no protection against his gaze, but she pulled it on and knotted the belt tightly around her waist. Pushing her hair out of her face, she turned toward him. “How could you?”

His arms hung loosely at his sides. A cruel smile pulled at his straight mouth. She braced herself for the blow.

“Now you know how I've felt these past years,” he said. “You used me, Megan. Back when you said you'd marry me, then a few weeks ago, when you came to my hotel. Even tonight. You came to my room knowing I wouldn't turn you away. Don't talk to me about taking advantage of someone. It's what you do best.”

You said you loved me, that's why I came to you tonight.

She opened her mouth to speak the words aloud, then shook her head. There was no point. She moved around him toward the door. How had this happened? How had their wonderful night become something ugly and mean? She reached for the door and pulled it open.

“I'll be gone in the morning,” he said.

Her eyes burned, but no tears fell. Gone? He was leaving her? She'd only just figured out how much she needed him and now he was leaving? Oh, please, God, it wasn't fair.

“Wh-what about Bonnie?” Her voice cracked.

“Can't you take care of her? I'll be back in less than a week. With any luck, I'll have found the murderer.”

Her knees trembled with relief. He wasn't leaving her. He was going to nearby towns to investigate Laurie's death. Of course. How could she have forgotten?

“Bonnie will miss you,” she said, fighting against the tightness in her throat. She felt cold, although the night temperature was pleasant. Her skin was clammy, as if a fever raged, but the cause wasn't illness, it was the pain of her broken heart.