Slow Fever (13 page)

Moments later, Kylie tried to place her mind and her body in the same galaxy. Michael’s harsh breathing, the thumping of his heart and the desperate hunger of his mouth had once more ignited her—in the closet. She leaned limply against him, cherishing his warm trembling hands. “All better?” he asked against her forehead.

She nodded and Michael eased her from his arms and with a last searching tender kiss, opened the closet door. He eased Kylie out into the room, tugged her sweatshirt down firmly and smiled at the man gaping at them. “I heard noises,” Leon said finally.

Kylie trembled, the aftermath of her feverish need for Michael, as he closed the closet door. He rested his hand on her shoulder. It was a firm grip and not a caress, as if he wasn’t letting her move away from him. She flushed and hurried to explain. Kylie wasn’t prepared for anyone to know how much she needed Michael. Not that Leon’s opinion of her mattered, but her explanation was based on her background—in Freedom Valley passion wasn’t to be flaunted openly. The Women’s Council would call such behavior “unseemly.” Michael could fall back into the Cull bin easily. “Now Leon, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Of course it is,” Michael said. “She’s very sexy and demanding and needs regular attention… Leon, I’d like you and me to be friends and I’ll drop over and cook dinner. I’ll just put something in the oven, so it will be ready when Sharon wakes up from her nap. But I’ve been wondering if you’d want to take some time off now and go for a drive?” he asked the other man as if unaffected by his steamy interlude with Kylie.

“What have you been doing to Leon?” Kylie asked furiously the next afternoon while in Michael’s kitchen. Michael hadn’t seen her since the closet incident; he’d been
too busy with Leon and Sharon. As he passed Kylie’s door last night, she’d jerked it open to glare at him. He’d smiled at her, thinking how cute she was in her flannel pajamas, her green mud mask hard upon her face, framing her vivid blue cutting eyes and her firmed pink lips. He could have tugged her to him and kissed her until that first yielding began—but he didn’t. He had plans for Kylie and they included a proper consummation upon a righteous bed. When she was soft and mellow in his arms, all that fire banked for the moment, he’d tell her how he’d spoken for her. He’d tell her of his life, of the women who periodically stayed with him and some of whom he still supported as they grasped the first rung of their futures as independent women.

“You’re in a froth,” he had noted and wished the women he helped would have a bit of Kylie’s fire and strength.

“‘In a froth.’ You’re using my mother’s words and you’ve got that closed, hard look. What exactly did you do to Leon?” Kylie had demanded.

Now, in the early afternoon circled by a cold mist, after setting off all the alarms Michael had reset, Kylie was furious. Her mouth tightened as she glanced at his work, cleaning up after his guests. The swishing dishwasher was filled with dirty dishes discarded throughout the house, the washer and dryer going full blast. While Leon was meticulous about the Spa’s neat appearance, he discarded that trait in his off-duty hours. Sharon’s attempts at cooking were evidenced by the black crust at the bottom of all of Michael’s pots and pans. After one disaster, Sharon had simply moved on to another pan without cleaning the first. “Sorry about the window they broke. I’ll pay for the damage,” Kylie muttered.

Michael punched the buttons to stop the alarms Kylie
had started; he punched the row of remote buttons to disable them in his shop behind Soft Touches and in his vehicles. He’d wanted to see if Leon’s gleaming, well-defined muscles could adjust to a good old-fashioned back-alley brawl. Leon hadn’t offered to repay him for anything, and Michael wondered how much Kylie had sacrificed in her marriage. “You’re not paying for anything. I haven’t done anything to him. But I’d like to.”

“He left a note. He’s got a good job in San Francisco, managing an elite spa. The corporation has spas all over the world and it’s likely that after the baby, they’ll be located in Switzerland, just where he’s always wanted to be. He said Sharon wanted to leave, too, and he’s going to sign a contract with great employee benefits. I always knew that with just a little nudge and the right incentive, Leon would become more responsible. It was worth my effort, for the baby’s sake. Why didn’t you answer your telephone this morning? I couldn’t leave Mrs. Watson, not after she’d taken so much care and pride in making her appointment—she’s approaching one hundred, you know. I want to know what you said or did to Leon to make him and Sharon leave town so quickly. Leon usually liked to stage his good-byes, lingering over them. He didn’t this time. If their using your house was too much of an inconvenience, they could have stayed at mine… And why did Sharon call, raging about the blond bionic Amazon stealing her husband? None of this makes any sense.”

“Miracles happen.” Michael’s extensive contacts had confirmed the setup, and within a few hours had gotten Leon a high-paying job and an accompanying apartment. Leon had pounced upon the offer. Michael had slipped Leon an envelope containing cash and the signed title of the Porsche. Michael had made certain that Leon knew if
he asked Kylie for money or support again, that the consequences would be “unfriendly.”

Michael settled back against his kitchen counter to watch Kylie pace back and forth. Fredricka’s warning look made perfect sense now. She seldom entered the life stream of others, but clearly she knew how to dispose of a man by making his wife jealous. Fredricka liked life smooth in Freedom Valley and she had apparently taken action to remove the newcomers chafing the town. Seemingly deep in thought, Kylie picked up the bottle of furniture oil and the rag he’d intended to use and went to work on the antique table. “They should have used coasters to prevent these water marks. These weren’t here when I set the table that first night.”

Kylie straightened and frowned and slowly studied his kitchen and the living room. “Oh, a fireplace. It’s just the thing on a day like this with the blustering wind outside. Just lovely, with cream carpeting and cushions on dark heavy furniture. What a lovely view of the mountains! They’re all draped in mist now— You know, I was so busy taking care of Leon and Sharon that I didn’t really look at your home. The pantry and laundry room were arranged so conveniently off the kitchen and the guest bathroom is delicious. Karolina is dying for an invitation. She’s certain you’ve got a swords display and shrunken heads.”

Michael smiled tightly. His pistols and other gear were hidden in wall panels throughout the house. He imagined Karolina’s glee if she were to try his night-vision, heat-sensing and voice tracking and recognition equipment. A private room, well equipped with sensors, occupied his barn’s loft. Testing high-tech security devices in privacy away from labs with spies had become lucrative and he enjoyed trying his skills. “Karolina has an imagination.”

He followed Kylie as she wandered from room to room,
staring at the nursery and the tiny cots provided for visiting children. “I’d like children someday,” he said. “Would you?”

“You ordered new things for the women and the children. Why?”

He shrugged, unable to tell her of how dark those lives had been. “They were my friends and they needed things.”

Kylie studied him, placing her hand along his jaw. “Michael, no one will think less of you for having a giving heart. Don’t be ashamed of the good you do. That you’ve always done.”

He wanted to tell her about his mother, about Lily and why he had chosen his path to help other women. But the words were locked tight in his throat; he wasn’t used to giving away parts of his life. It was a trait he intended to mend for Kylie.

He kissed her palm, nuzzled it, unable to tell her of the fullness in his heart.
Tell her, you fool. Tell her of your past and what you’ve done. Give her roses and wine and a dinner she’ll remember. Don’t let your body rule your head, not now, not with Kylie.
Had he ever let the need for a woman rule him?
Never.
The denial slapped at him as he toyed with a curl.

“I would like children,” Kylie answered as the currents ran strong and warm between them. She pushed open the door to his guest room, warm with sunshine and Anna’s quilts and fragrant herbs tucked into vases. “Those are my mother’s braided rag rugs and her quilts. Did she stay with you?”

He thought of the long night sessions with women too shattered to trust a man, of the nights when Anna could be heard crooning to them, sleeping with them. He thought of the babies she’d brought into the world, teaching him what she knew. “Yes. She stayed sometimes.”

Kylie hurled herself against him, holding him tight. “I miss her. There was no time to say good-bye.”

He smoothed her back and nuzzled the fragrance of her hair. Anna had left lovely gifts wherever she went, caring for those she loved and those who needed her. “She’s here. In you and Tanner and Miranda.”

Kylie burrowed her face against his throat. “I’m not like her, not as sweet and good, especially when it comes to you.”

Michael fought the shiver of his need, that careening of tenderness into sensual need, to claim her as his own. He pushed away an unfamiliar foolish grin, which had just startled him.

She looked up at him and smoothed his hair and the shadows inside Michael went tilting into soft and fuzzy. “You’ll be moving back to your home. You probably only moved in to protect me. Leon had wanted to become…friendly again. Stop muttering. He was only feeling a little insecure.”

“‘Insecure,’ my—” Michael bit off the rest of his curse. He had to tell Kylie soon. Rosa had called him about “Jeanne,” her last name customarily ignored. Legal restraining orders hadn’t prevented her husband’s abuse and she was heavily pregnant, the baby endangered. For the time being Jeanne was indecisive, but once she made up her mind for protection, Rosa would need a safe house for her. “Mmm. I’ve got a problem and your mother’s house isn’t the place for it.”

“No? You’re not comfortable?”

“I’m very uncomfortable.” He eased back a wind-tossed curl, still cool from the mist outside, and traced her ear, thinking how perfect she was. “I still see her there, and I’ve got plans for her little girl.”

“Oh?” There was just that challenging tilt of her head,
that slanted blue look, daring him to explain. “I can’t see that it matters.”

“I do.” Michael tugged her to him and took, dived into her, tasted all the sense of coming home, mixed with earth and violets and woman. Stunned momentarily, her lips first resisted the tug of his teeth, then parted to deepen the kiss. She fisted his hair, hoarding him, the air charging with tiny flashes of lightning, bouncing off the hallway as he held her feet above the floor, carrying her.

He’d only intended to give them each relief, to touch Kylie, reassuring himself of her response to him, that unshakable trust and honesty. But she’d caught him broadside, fiercely opening herself to him and his instincts to take her leaped into life. He’d take just a little, he promised himself, to soothe what ran between them. He’d stop—

He fell with her onto the bed, hurrying to skim the soft curves and heat that was Kylie. Her hands slid beneath his T-shirt, tearing it upward, tossing it away. He fought for caution, to tell her of his life, to tell her that he’d spoken for her, but then she fussed at his jeans. Unable to work the snap, she held him and her tremble ran through him, became his.

“Did
they
sleep here?” she whispered once, desperately as he hurried with their clothing, freeing them.

He should stop. He should tell her everything. But his blood rushed on feverishly, demanding he take what was his, the woman of his heart and soul. This would be where he would take his love, Michael thought as the fever pushed through his body, here in the dim shadows with the scent of mist clinging to her, the past and the future waiting to be bonded.

He traced her breast, cherishing it, slowly tasting her flesh. He’d seen her briefly in the closet, her curves shadowed, but that glimpse hadn’t prepared him for the gleam
ing pale flow of silky skin, the dips and hollows and the—He sucked in air, smoothing the flat of his hand over her stomach, tracing the jut of her hipbones. “No. I kept it locked. No woman has ever been here, with me, but you.”
Kylie…Kylie
. He gently eased away her jacket and looked down at her, losing himself in her dark blue gaze, the heat pouring from her.

“Mmm, freckles,” he murmured against her throat, finding the ripeness of her breast, cherishing the heated press of her body, her bare legs twining restlessly against his.

“Yum,” she whispered back, stroking his chest, igniting the tempest within him. He heard his laughter, wild and free, and wondered how he could release such emotion, such joy.

Kylie rolled over him, rocked her hips against him. She cried out helplessly, and her soft, waiting flesh pressed against the hardness of his body. He couldn’t have her take him so easily, taking her riotous hair in his hands. This was his taking of the woman who had his heart and he had to meet her hunger, deny her nothing. Yet the darkness within him prowled, needing the capture. He fought back the primitive need to sink deep within her, to take and take and take. Kylie’s fingernails dug into his shoulder and her teeth latched to his throat for a tiny wound. “Don’t you dare, Michael Cusack. Don’t you dare think of good and right and honor.”

“Oh, I wasn’t thinking of that, dear heart,” he whispered, not bothering to keep the humor from his tone.

“Well, then?”

“It’s the doing that needs to be good and right and proper.”

Impatient for him, Kylie shook his shoulders and the gentle etch of her peaked nipples against his chest, the heat rising from her took him to the cusp, his primitive need for
his mate driving him over her. Taking a heartbeat for protection, Michael found her breasts with his open mouth. She cried out then, just as fierce as he, her legs capturing his. Tearing away layers of time and restraint, driving to the wild hunger pounding between them, Kylie helplessly watched Michael’s desperate expression.

This was his love, his heart, his home, her face flushed with desire, her dark blue eyes widening as he entered her very carefully. He seemed almost grim and yet desperately locked in the passion between them, his body trembling as he braced his full weight from her. “That’s it. Keep your eyes open, baby.”