A Man Like Morgan Kane (21 page)

She drew in her breath on a soft, hushed gasp. "Yes, that's a portrait I had done of her when she was six years old."

Would he see,Bethanywondered, how much Anne Marie looked like him in the portrait? From the steely blue-gray eyes, to the square jaw to the gold of her long hair? And would he notice the small pendant around her neck, the oval diamond sparkling against the ruby red velvet dress?

Scooting back his chair, Morgan stood and walked across the room to inspect the portrait more closely.

There was something about the picture that beckoned him. When he stood directly in front of the fireplace, he suddenly realized what it was about the portrait that had caught his eye. Anne Marie was wearing the small diamond pendant necklace that he had givenBethanyfor her twentieth birthday, only a week before he'd leftBirmingham.

Pain hit him square in the gut, as if he'd received a hard blow from a strong fist. How many times had he wondered how different his life might have been if he'd givenBethanyan engagement ring instead of the necklace? But the necklace had been as close as he'd come to declaring his feelings for her. He had cared, cared deeply, but not enough to make a lifetime commitment. Not until it had been too late. He'd been such a smug, overconfident, young fool!

Lifting his hand to the canvas, he traced the thin gold chain that circled Anne Marie's neck and fell to her chest. Balling his hand into a fist, he closed his eyes and allowed the memories to wash over him. The wayBethanyhad looked lying in the middle of his bed, wearing nothing but the necklace. Her arms open wide. Her body accepting his with wild passion. Her heart giving him all her love.

Bethanylaid her hand on his back. Morgan tensed at her touch. He hadn't heard her cross the room, her bare feet silent on the thickly cushioned floor.

"You kept the necklace," he said, not turning around. "I'm surprised you didn't throw it away."

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"Perhaps I should have. But I didn't." Easing her hand up his back, she squeezed his shoulder. "I gave the necklace to—" she almost said
our daughter
"—Anne Marie. It's her favorite piece of jewelry."

"Does she know I gave it to you?"

"No, she doesn't know." She had told Anne Marie that her father had given the necklace to her on her twentieth birthday. But Anne Marie didn't know that Morgan was her father.

He swallowed hard. As deep, dark, primitive emotions almost choked him, Morgan turned and grabbed Bethany's upper arms. Damning himself for a fool, he gave himself over to the urgent tide of desire that washed away his common sense.

Instantly recognizing the animal hunger in his eyes,Bethanyopened her mouth to protest, to tell him that this couldn't happen, that she didn't want it. But the lie died a silent death on her lips. Temptation burned hot and wild between them, enticement beyond bearing, having grown stronger and stronger each time they had resisted.

Guilt and fear had kept her celibate for twelve long, lonely years. Fear of trusting another man, of caring enough to give herself and being betrayed. And guilt that she might actually find happiness with another man when she had sent her husband to his death. Did she have a right to love, to happiness, even to sexual fulfillment, when her inability to truly give herself to her husband had driven him to suicide? The authorities had called it an accident, but in her heart,Bethanyknew the truth.

When Morgan drew her closer, she threw up her arms, wedging them between their bodies in one final attempt to stop the insanity before it went any further. Flattening her palms against the front of his shirt, she felt the harsh, rapid beat of his heart. An all-consuming desire spread through her body like a wildfire through dry kindling, burning away her resistance.

He knew the moment she stopped fighting, the moment she admitted defeat to a passion neither of them could control. He sensed her acceptance of the inevitable. Tightening his hold on her arms, his fingers bit in to her tender flesh. Her moaning gasp alerted him to the damage his strength was capable of doing and he instantly loosened his grip and eased his hands down her arms to her waist.

She stood perfectly still, caught by his mesmerizing stare, while he untied the knot at her waist, pulled the wool throw away from her hips and dropped it on the floor.

"I'm afraid," she admitted, her breath raspy. "I don't knowif
…
It won't change anything. Afterward …

we'll still be the same."

"We've fought it long enough, honey," he said. "The longer and harder we've fought against it, the stronger it's become." Lowering his head, his breath feathering across her lips, he closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet, heady aroma that was uniquelyBethany. She shivered when he slipped his arms around her and buried his face against her neck. "The only way to appease the beast is to feed it." He murmured the words against her throat.

Nodding agreement, she tugged at his shoulder holster. Lifting his head, he took both of her hands and laid them flat on his chest. "Unbutton my shirt."

With nervous fingers, she began the task. Morgan removed his holster and laid it on the mantel behind him, then turned and eased his hands aroundBethany's hips. Cupping her buttocks he lifted her closer,
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close enough so that she felt the hard ridge of his sex straining against the front of his slacks.

Parting his pale blue shirt, she exposed his broad, hairy chest.Bethanytrembled as her hands made contact with his skin. He was hard and hot, his chest muscles toned to perfection. She combed her fingers through the thicket of brown curls, seeking and finding his tiny male nipples. He drew in a deep, harsh breath when she raked her nails across the peaked nubs.

"Beth, honey, you're tormenting me." He slipped his hand up inside her lace teddy and kneaded her hip.

Clutching his shoulders, she lowered her head and flicked her tongue across his nipple. The moment her moisture touched his skin, he shivered. Lightning fast, he captured the back of her head in his hand and threaded his fingers through her long dark hair. Curling several sepia strands around his fingers, he pulled them tight, forcing her to turn her face toward his as he swooped down and took her lips. Hot and wet and savage, his mouth conquered hers. All the while he held her head with one hand, he used the other to slip the satin straps of her teddy down her arms and drag the lace garment to her waist.

The moment he freed her breasts from their confinement, he pulled her forward, into his bare chest. She moaned with sheer agonized pleasure as her nipples tightened painfully when they pressed against his hair-roughened chest.

Deepening the kiss, Morgan spread his hand open across the hollow of her back and urged her closer, until the apex of her thighs nestled against his rigid shaft. A sharp, tingling sensation radiated from her breasts to her feminine core, moistening her body in preparation. Her nipples ached with the need to be touched, to be laved, to be suckled.

Morgan jerked the teddy over her hips, allowing it to pool into a yellow lace cloud at her feet. Easing her a few inches away from him, he surveyed her, drinkinginevery luscious feminine inch of her naked body.

He reached out and lifted her round full breasts into his hands, caressing tenderly. Then he rubbed the backs of his thumbs across her nipples. She tossed back her head. Her hair cascaded down across her shoulder blades like a coffee brown waterfall. She sighed, the sound sharp and breathless, wanting more, needing more.

"It's all right, babe. I'm going to make the hurt go away." Caressing her, his touch wildly erotic, he eased his hands down her rib cage and around, dipping one of his hands between their bodies. He speared his fingers through the triangle of dark hair and cupped her intimately, then when he eased his finger over her sensitive kernel, he encompassed one begging nipple with his mouth.

Bethanyfell apart, her whole body becoming a throbbing, aching mass of need. She felt herself building toward a climax as he suckled one breast and then the other, his touch masterfully fondling her. It had happened too quickly. She'd been too hungry. She wanted to tell him, to beg him not to let it end so soon, to make this wild pleasure go on and on forever.

She cried out as fulfillment claimed her. Trembling from the force of her release, she clung to Morgan.

He lifted her into his arms and carried her across the room and laid her down on the bed. As the aftershocks rippled through her body, she watched while Morgan tore off his clothes and threw them haphazardlyon the floor. Within seconds he eased himself down on top of her, bracing his big body with his arms. Waiting, wanting, her passion ignited anew by the very sight of him, large, hard and gloriously male.

"I want you." The words rushed out of his mouth on a harsh, heated breath as he wedged his knee between her thighs and opened her up for his invasion.

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She reached for him, digging her nails into his buttocks, encouraging him to take what he wanted. "Take me. Please, Morgan. I want you, too. So very much."

He eased his finger inside her, retrieving her moisture, preparing them both for his possession. Shivering and whimpering, she arched her back, lifting her hips off the bed, inviting him in.

Groaning with savage satisfaction, he plunged into the depths of her receptive body, but stilled instantly when she cried out and bit her nails deeper into his taut buttocks. Realization hit him suddenly.Bethany hadn't been with a man in twelve years, but even when they had been lovers, taking all of him into her body had never been an easy feat.

"It's all right, honey." He soothed her with kisses and tender caresses as he eased himself, inch by inch, deeper and deeper into her body.

For a moment,Bethanyfelt impaled as he embedded himself inside her, but gradually her body became used to the pressure of his fullness.

He lifted her hips as he plunged to the hilt, filling her completely. Once she had adjusted to him, he eased himself out by slow degrees and then thrust again, repeating the process until she writhed beneath him, crying, moaning, pleading.

He felt her tightening around him, urging the inevitable explosion. She clung to him, absorbing every ounce of pleasure from their wild mating. He hammered into her until, with one final lunge, he erupted, just as she spiraled out of control for a second time.

His shouted grunt was that of a powerful male animal in his prime. She lay beneath him shivering uncontrollably as her pleasure continued on and on until only the fluttering shock waves of completion echoed through her body.

Falling to her side, he drew her into his arms and kissed her full on the mouth, loving the sweet, salty taste of the sweat that dampened her upper lip. Running his hand up and down her arm, he nudged her other shoulder with his nose, then planted a soft kiss on the same spot.

"You are the sweetest thing I've ever known," he whispered. "It has never been like this with anyone else."

"Only with me?"

"Yes, Beth. Only with you."

Sighing with satisfaction, she cuddled in his arms and drifted off to sleep. He lay there for a long time and watched her while she slept, thinking how peaceful she looked, how completely sated. In a little while he closed his eyes and rested.

* * *

Awakening with a start, he sat straight up in bed. He heard a car door slam. Checking his watch, still strapped to his wrist, he realized how late it was. James had probably dropped Anne Marie home after school. Hell, he couldn't let her walk in on them, couldn't let her find him naked in her mother's bed. He shot out of the bed, jerked on his navy-blue slacks and slipped into his shirt. After gathering up his shoes,
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socks and underwear, he grabbed his holster off the mantel and rushed out into the hall and toward his room.

Standing just inside his bedroom, he heard the front door unlock. Damn! He'd have to hurry. Rushing about frantically, he washed off quickly and dressed in fresh clothes. Just as he slipped into his brown loafers, he heard Anne Marie's footsteps on the stairs. Strapping on his holster, he walked out into the hallway at the exact moment Anne Marie lifted her hand to knock on her mother's closed bedroom door.

"She's asleep," Morgan said.

Anne Marie gasped and jumped simultaneously, then turned to face him. "Oh. Morgan, you scared me. I just wanted to talk to Mama and let her know that I survived the first day at school."

"She'll be glad to hear all about it." Morgan grabbed Anne Marie by the elbow. "But later, OK?Bethany hasn't been sleeping well at night. She really needs this little nap."

"Yeah, you're right. I can fill her in on the details of my day later. How was your day? Anything significant happen?"

Tugging on her elbow, Morgan steered her away fromBethany's room. "Why don't we go downstairs, find us a snack and exchange notes? You tell me about your day and I'll hit the highlights of mine."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

Anne Marie followed him downstairs to the kitchen. While he filled glasses with ice and poured them each a cola, she retrieved a bag of corn chips from the pantry.

She tossed him the chips. "Here. Open these. I'll get the ketchup."

"Ketchup?"

"Yeah, I know. Nana and Grandmother think it's disgusting, but I love to dip my chips in ketchup."

She pulled a bottle out of the refrigerator, lifted a bowl from the dishwasher and squirted ketchup into it.

Plunking the bowl down on the table, she returned the ketchup to the refrigerator.

Morgan watched, fascinated, even a bit bewildered asBethany's daughter munched on ketchup-coated chips. He'd eaten his chips with ketchup since he'd been a kid. His mother had never known. She had seldom shared meals, let alone snacks, with him when he'd been a child. Retrieving a chip from the bag, he reached over and dipped it in the ketchup. Anne Marie stared at him, a look of surprise on her face.