Whirlwind (23 page)

“Okay,” Liza ordered, wedging the spoon into his hand,
“just nibble around the edges so it doesn't overflow while I drive.”

The plastic dish did overflow, however, just a few miles down the road. Liza laughed when she saw the mess, then pulled over under some trees and tried to mop up the worst of the melted chocolate. She used a paper napkin to wipe the mess off the seat and set to work on the leg of his jeans.

“Stop,” Cliff said at last, finding enough breath to speak.

“Aha, you aren't giving me the silent treatment after all, huh?”

“Take this thing!”

She accepted the ice cream, then folded up her long legs and sat eating it while Cliff tried to get his brains in order again. The noise in his head had begun to abate. Now only the rain overhead made the drumming sound he heard. But he remained shaken. Never had he come so close to disaster with so many people standing around. Never had he felt so damaged. So abnormal and horrible. He squished himself into the corner of the seat, unconsciously trying to escape the soft glowing light of the dashboard.

While he collected himself, Liza waited patiently and ate her dessert.

In a few minutes, with her mouth full, she asked, “You okay now?”

Cliff nodded in a series of jerks. “I think so.”

“Does that happen a lot? When you go into public places?”

“I don't go into public places,” he replied, relieved that his voice sounded normal. “I stay at the lodge.”

“You leave it occasionally.”

“Not often.”

Liza frowned. “But you must go to the grocery store, right?”

“Now and then, but it's...I've been there before. It's not so bad.”

“It's a safe place for you?”

“Yes.”

“And the truck must be safe, too.”

He nodded and realized that he had eased into the light once more, to better see her face.

Liza ate more ice cream thoughtfully. “Is it the places you're afraid of? Like Marge's Diner and the garage? Or do the people make you nervous?”

“Not exactly.”

She skewered him with a wise look. “Then you must be afraid of what you might do to them?”

“Yes,” said Cliff, letting out an unsteady breath.

Liza sat in silence while they both got used to the idea. Then she leaned closer.

Her voice was barely a whisper. “Want a bite?”

She held the spoon out to him, smiling. Her blue eyes shone brilliantly in the light of the dashboard. “You're not going to make me eat this whole thing alone, are you?”

Cliff stared at her, trying to decide if she'd simply decided to ignore what had just happened in the Dairy King. “Aren't you afraid?”

The question surprised her, and her brows rose prettily. “Of what?”

“Of me. Of what I might do.”

She shrugged and laughed, devil-may-care as she spooned more chocolate into her mouth. “What's the worst that could happen? If you have a fit in the Dairy King, we'll just pretend you're an actor practising an important movie role. I hear Robert De Niro does it all the time.”

She dug into her ice cream again and ate ravenously, apparently unconcerned. “Look,” she said, “it's no big deal. I can accept you the way you are. If the rest of the world can't, who cares? We've got each other, right?”

“Liza,” Cliff said, struggling to communicate. “Don't you wonder if I—if I might truly hurt you? Does it never enter your head?”

“You can't hurt me,” she said, turning to look at him with all traces of her casual attitude suddenly gone. Solemnly she said, “You can't hurt me, Cliff, unless you throw me out of your life.”

She wasn't afraid at all. Liza was strong and willing and determined, and nothing could prevent her from getting what she wanted, once she set her sights on it.

Cliff couldn't stop himself then. The feelings inside him overflowed completely, and he saw himself reaching for Liza across the seat. Unsteadily, she set the sundae dish on the dashboard, then slid into his arms, warm and slightly flushed with emotion. Her smiling mouth joined his, tasting cool and sweet.

“Ah, that's better,” she whispered against his lips, “but let's do it just once more. And this time, really put your heart into it, all right?”

Cliff began to laugh helplessly, drunkenly, and Liza responded with a husky laugh of her own, sliding deeper into his embrace and lifting her mouth to be kissed properly.

In two seconds, they were necking like teenagers.

L
IZA LET HERSELF
be carried on the wave of Cliff's raw release. He needed her—and nothing had ever given her such pleasure before. She could feel his heart hammering and heard his breath rasping in his throat. His hands bit into her flesh, and he groaned aloud as they kissed. Liza felt cherished, adored, impassioned.

She felt her own tension peak and burst, too, then spread like seafoam through her veins. Suddenly Liza couldn't hold back anymore, and she wound her arms around Cliff's strong neck and pressed her body into his. Their kiss turned wild and exciting. Cliff drove his fingers into her hair and tilted her head, making the coupling more firm, more sensual. She arched against his chest, smoothing her hands all over his shoulders, his back, memorizing the contour of muscle and bone, soaking up the vitality that glowed from inside him. All the while, she kept hearing the same message.
He needs me. He needs me.

The windows of the truck began to fog up, and the thrumming of the rain on the roof seemed to echo the thunder of Liza's pulse.

Cliff pulled her across the seat, and in a moment Liza was straddling him, her knees jammed into the seat cushion, her long legs capturing his thighs.

“Yes,” she whispered, throwing her head back so that he could nuzzle the length of her trembling throat. “The answer is yes.”

“I haven't asked the question,” he breathed.

“You don't need to. I want to make love with you, Cliff.”

“Liza—”

“Stop worrying. Stop analyzing. Stop
thinking!
Just do what you feel like doing.”

“I feel like—like—”

“So shut up and
do
it!”

He did, pushing her shirt up and sliding his hand under it to caress Liza's bare back. It wasn't enough. Frustrated, she sat up straight and took his hand in her own, guiding him until he cupped her breast and found the nipple with his fingertips. Shivering with pleasure at his touch, Liza forced him to rub her breast in slow circles. Her nipple grew hard beneath his warm palm, and Cliff gave a soft exclamation. When she released his hand, he went on caressing her.

Liza sighed and opened her eyes. “That's what you want, right?”

His dark gaze burned into hers. “That and more.”

Leaning forward, Liza bumped her forehead against his. Her long hair made a curtain around them. “Much more,” she whispered. “We could be good together, Forrester. I've been thinking about it since we met. I knew this had to happen between us.”

“So did I.”

“But you're fighting it.”

“As hard as I can.”

She laughed unsteadily as he pushed her shirt higher still and found her breast with his lips. It was going to happen, all right. He began to kiss her rhythmically. “I'm a very demanding woman, you know.”

“I can be a demanding man,” he said, his voice fading to a murmur, just before closing his teeth with excruciating gentleness on her engorged nipple.

Liza melted into a boneless collection of female hormones as Cliff nibbled his way from one breast to the other.
Then he eased her down onto the seat and began to work magic with her nerve endings. His weight felt good, his body fitting perfectly into the shape of her own. She felt his fingers, his mouth, his tongue, his teeth, start to unfasten all her clothes and warm every inch of her skin. He pressed kiss after molten kiss into the places where her pulse beat fast. She found herself writhing like a cat beneath his caresses, and the last of her doubts seemed to drain away.

Her own hands cruised unbidden to unbutton Cliff's shirt and find the springy hair of his chest. His back was a strong curve of muscle that tempted her touch, too. His skin was warm beneath her palms, and she felt his breath catch as she drew lazy, exploring circles around the small of his back. She slid one hand lower, hesitating at his belt.

Cliff shuddered with anticipation, but Liza did not venture farther. Not yet.

“Wait,” she whispered, wriggling uncomfortably. “We're both too tall to wrestle in a truck.”

“I can't stop now,” he said, feverishly kissing her neck and earlobes.

Liza laughed breathlessly. “We can't manage this, Cliff, not here. I want to see you when we make love, to watch everything you do, everything you feel.” When he lifted his head, she traced the hard line of his cheek with one finger and smiled into his eyes. “Let's go home and make love properly.”

The idea began to appeal to him. “I could make a fire.”

“You already have!”

He laughed unsteadily and relented. Liza clambered up, tugging her shirt back into place. Cliff slid behind the wheel of the truck. But Liza had left the headlights on, and the stupid battery was dead. Cliff couldn't get the engine started.

“Damn!” she cried, laughing helplessly when he gave up trying. “Finally, I get you in the mood, and we find ourselves stuck in a contortionist's pickup truck!”

“We'll manage,” Cliff growled, reaching for her again.

Liza evaded his grip. “I know a shortcut through the woods,” she suggested. “We could run for the lodge. Maybe we won't get too wet. It'll only take five minutes, and then we'll be alone together.”

Cliff sent her a smoldering look that scorched Liza to the marrow of her bones. He said, “I don't want to wait five minutes.”

She smiled and popped open the passenger door. “I'm afraid you don't have a choice. I'm making a break for the lodge.”

“Liza, come back here!”

But she slid out of the truck and into the driving rain. She was soaked immediately, and when Cliff climbed out of the other door, she could see his shirt was soon plastered to his skin, too. It was an appealing sight—all that perfectly honed muscle displayed for her pleasure.

She grinned and shouted, “Catch me if you can!”

She raced up the hillside and plunged into the trees, laughing and dodging raindrops in the darkness. Branches snatched at her clothing, and the storm filled the night with the steady thunder of falling rain. The earth was slippery beneath Liza's sneakers, but she hurried onward, conscious of nothing but the powerful man who ran half a step behind her—the man who wanted her badly enough to chase her through the dark forest on a stormy night.

It felt like a game, and God knew Cliff needed something as foolish as a game. She could feel him watching her hips, wanting to seize her from behind, debating about throwing her to the ground and making love in the rain. What would it be like? Naked bodies washed by a warm summer rain, their cries of passion muffled by the drumming of thunder. Cliff needed to let go, to have fun, to take his pleasure in the heat of the moment.

Liza nearly fell coming out onto the gravel driveway. She snagged her soaked shoe on a root—or maybe the pur
sued woman simply wanted to be caught at last. Cliff swooped Liza into his arms, breathless from exertion. She felt his heart pounding against her own through the drenched fabric of their clothing, and the tension in his body was unmistakable. She could feel how aroused Cliff was and laughed with delight.

But when she looked up and their gazes met, her laughter died in her throat. Desire was carved plainly on Cliff's face, and fire burned in his gaze. Suddenly he seemed capable of taking what he wanted. He was tall and strong, every inch a man. A life force she could not resist.

A tingle of excitement shot up from inside her body, and Liza heard herself whisper his name.

Without a word, without tearing his hungry gaze from hers, Cliff slid his callused hands around her face and tipped her mouth to his. Their lips met ravenously, fused by the rain that suddenly rushed down from the heavens. The sky opened and poured upon them, melting body to body, mouth to mouth. Liza felt as if she'd been swept into a vortex, and she was powerless to stop it. She had aroused something primitive and unstoppable, and the consequences made her tremble.

Cliff tore free from the kiss and pierced her gaze with his, asking a last question.
Now?
But Liza couldn't find her voice. She nodded her answer, and Cliff seized her hand, turning for the lodge. They ran lightly over the drive and hustled up the steps of the veranda. Liza's usually steady hand fumbled with the catch on the door, and Cliff ground out a harsh word of impatience. In the next instant, he bent and snatched her off her feet. With a cry, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Then Cliff gave the door a resounding kick and sent it slamming back on its hinges. A moment later, he strode into the lodge with Liza trembling in his arms.

He headed for the old lounge—the small room with the stone fireplace and comfortable furniture. But he didn't
bother with the furniture or with building a fire. Liza felt she might have screamed if he'd stopped to do anything but make love to her.

He halted and set Liza on her feet once more. She clung to him, wet and shivering with anticipation. His hair was sleek against his head, and the rainwater on his body made him slick and hot to her touch. Unsteadily, Liza began to unfasten the rest of the buttons on his wet shirt.

“You're so beautiful,” he murmured, passing his hands over her wet T-shirt.

“Undress me, Cliff,” Liza begged, unable to wait any longer. She wanted to feel his skin against hers.

In one smooth motion, he pulled the shirt over her head, and Liza stood very still as he dropped the garment and absorbed the sight of her bare breasts. She had never felt so much like a woman as at that moment. Riveted by the male hunger she read clearly in his gaze, she allowed him to unhook her jeans and plunge his hands into her panties, filling his palms with the curve of her buttocks.