Ain’t Misbehaving (15 page)

Mitch stepped in, and when he sank down, the water threatened to overflow. It did splash a little over the sides when he reached out both hands and pulled her to him.

“My hair’s going to get all wet,” she said. Not exactly the most brilliant conversational gambit she’d ever come up with.

“You’re absolutely right. Your hair is going to get all wet,” he agreed.

She caught the hint of a lazy smile before his lips nuzzled down to the hollow in her damp shoulder. She considered worrying about the space in the tub, but truthfully the old thing was huge. She considered worrying about drowning, but that didn’t seem of any particular immediate interest.

He wanted her. Now. Urgency dominated the intimate caresses he lavished on her body; his mouth claimed hers, tilting her head back so that she had the strangest sensation of floating in a dark, warm world of the senses. His skin was so slick, so warm, his chest muscles sleek and slippery against her breasts.

Desire pulled at her, with the lulling promise of a pied piper’s flute; she felt swept along, carried by the power of emotion that vibrated from Mitch. He laid her back, only to slowly propel her legs around his, tucking her around him. As he rained slow, insistent kisses on her face, murmuring to her, she felt the warm, silken thrust of his body inside her.

Her breath locked somewhere in her throat. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his damp shoulder.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

Such black eyes locked with hers. Dots of moisture beaded Mitch’s forehead like crystals. His face had a faint reddish glow, half shadow, half firelight. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he whispered. “Do you have any idea how good you feel around me, little one?”

His thighs tightened around her and she closed her eyes. “Mitch…”

“So slow in water,” he murmured. “I can last in water for a hundred years for you. It’s like the friction of silk, and for you it’s going to go on and on until you can’t stand it…”

“Mitch…”

His lips caught the name, captured it, held it. He would show her. He could think of a thousand creative ways to give her pleasure; she just had to give him time to learn them all. A lifetime. For the moment, he had
now,
and there was no way she could escape from him before he’d erased the thought of any other lovers from her mind. Experience or no, there couldn’t possibly be anyone who’d ever love her more.

***

Kay smiled in the darkness, as wide awake as she had been sleepy an hour before. Mitch’s arms were warm around her. The feather bed felt like a cushion of clouds, and a freshly fed stove was sending out noisy little sparks that toasted the dark room.

She’d put on a long flannel nightgown moments before, modeled it for Mitch, and admitted she’d bought it for the trip north because it looked sort of north woodsy. He liked it very much, he assured her…as he stripped it off her.

The wolf howled again in the distance, and she wrapped her arm more tightly around Mitch’s waist. “You’d think it would get tired and go to sleep, wouldn’t you?”

She felt Mitch’s smile rather than saw it. “It’s just a boy wolf calling for his girl. Don’t get uptight.”

“Do I feel uptight?”

“No.” His fingers smoothed back her hair. When he tilted her chin up, she could almost see his eyes sparkling in the darkness. “You definitely don’t feel uptight,” he murmured.

“You can’t expect to come this far north without hearing wolves,” she whispered reasonably. “They provide…atmosphere.”

“And yet you dropped that extra log in front of the door just in case they got in through the bolted door.”

Her palm connected with his rear end, a love pat for his sass, and then lingered. How could a man with such broad shoulders have such a flat little fanny? Men were built very strangely. Her palms slowly rediscovered that strange territory, with sheer sensual pleasure. He felt good. Every inch of him felt good. And he’d just taken her to ecstasy and back again, to peaks she’d never imagined, to delights in intimacy she’d never felt before.

In silence, she stroked his smooth, warm skin, until she felt the whisper of his lips on her forehead, and her hands stilled. The way his fingers combed back her hair, over and over, the way he let the silken strands wind around his fingers, the way his eyes met hers in the darkness…it seemed a moment in time, always hers.

“Mitch?”

“Hmm?”

Her fingers touched his face, tenderly amused at the rapid growth of beard on his chin. “You could have told me,” she said softly. “I only love you all the more for it.”

“Tell you what?”

“That I was your first.”

Tension whipped through his body so fast that he could feel a tight knot forming in his stomach. Until that instant, he’d wanted to believe there hadn’t been anything that shouted
inadequate, untried
about his performance. “I wasn’t aware that…you knew.”

“I didn’t
know,
”she assured him gently. “Not in any physical sense. It was something that I figured out because you’d been ill for so long, and at that particular time in your life—” He was quiet, so quiet and so tense, that Kay felt bewildered. “You’re a beautiful lover,” she whispered, “and I just wanted the chance to share that with you, Mitch. You made me feel all the more special because I was first with you.”

His arm dropped away from her, and he turned over on his back. “Is
that
what you felt?” he asked. Had she gotten a kick out of being his first? Before she moved on to more experienced lovers?

His tone could have chilled the tropics. A night that couldn’t possibly go wrong seemed to be going very wrong very quickly.

“You’ve been pulling back, Kay. Do you think I haven’t felt it? Your refusal to accept the necklace was only part of that. You’ve been pulling back from the minute I mentioned marriage.”

Something terribly thick seemed to clog her throat. “For your sake,” she said quietly. “I don’t believe marriage is what you want, Mitch.”

He gave her credit for trying to let him down gently. “Or what
you
want?”

His cold tone pierced her like a knife. “What I want? Mitch, listen. People…feel differently toward the first person they make love with. It’s not always a lasting thing… I mean, a lot of people have to test out other waters and—”

“I hear you,” he said roughly. “But I definitely don’t need to hear anymore. Enough’s enough, Kay. Leave it at that.” Maybe he’d been expecting to hear that, ever since she’d turned cool. Maybe she’d never felt anything lasting for him. He’d been a “first” for her—that was all.

Kay’s lips parted, with a dozen words trying to pour out. Anxiety and distress tore at her heart. “Mitch…”

“There’s nothing more to say, Kay. You’re absolutely right—I just hadn’t thought about it like that before.”

In time, she turned on her side, and a very long time later he finally heard her restless tossing turn into a restless sleep.

He stayed on his back and closed his eyes. He knew that she’d wanted to talk further, but he’d already heard the only thing that mattered. Being his first had been special for her, but she didn’t want him confusing that with something lasting. Now it all made sense; he knew why she’d pulled back the minute he’d mentioned marriage. More talk wasn’t necessary. Kay would only try to be gentle on the letdown.

He didn’t want her gentleness. If he couldn’t have her love, he simply wanted to extricate them both from the relationship as rapidly and painlessly as possible. For her, and for him.

She lay only inches from him. And yet miles distant. In the middle of the night, she kicked off the covers, and he firmly tucked them back around her.

Once he got up to add more wood to the fire.

At dawn, he had their things packed to return home. A fierce ache racked through his bones, like the loneliness of the north wind seeping through his soul. All the physical pains he’d suffered in his life were nothing next to this. He’d fought so hard for life, only to discover that it meant nothing without Kay.

Kay sprayed some perfume on her wrists, smoothed down the silver jersey tunic and stared glumly at the mirror. She couldn’t have been less in the mood for a New Year’s Eve party.

She was dressed to seduce the world, which didn’t help. The silver top was slinky and low-necked, and she wore it pneumonia-style—braless. Since she never went braless, she’d hoped that naughty feeling would transform a mood gone dismal; it wasn’t working. The eye makeup wasn’t working either. Or the perfume. The silver skirt should have at least given her some self-confidence; it hugged her hips and showed off her legs, but unfortunately she really didn’t give a damn.

The doorbell rang. She refrained from jumping a foot and a half, managing to walk to the door with reasonable sedateness.

“You’re early,” she remarked with a deliberately light tone and a smile as Mitch stepped inside.

“Only by a few minutes.”

She hesitated. “Mitch, this really isn’t necessary. You don’t have to follow through with this, just because we’d already agreed to go…” She devoured him with her eyes. He looked utterly devastating in his dark suit and red shirt, his hair brushed back and his eyes as cool as arctic ice.

“I said we’d go, and we will. You could hardly find someone else to go with at this late date.” He devoured her with his eyes, furious she was going out in public without a bra, entranced at the line of her hip as she bent over to pick up her coat.

“I could have gone alone.”

“And had explanations to make. Forget it, Kay. It’s nothing. You can go your own way when you get there and I’ll go mine.”

“Fine.” She spit out the word with a lethally polite smile. “That sounds wonderful. Exactly what I had in mind.”

“Good.” He stopped himself from yelling at her for not buttoning up her coat. If she wanted to expose her entire chest to the icy wind, that was her business.

He felt used, and he wasn’t likely to forget it. He hoped she’d enjoyed being someone’s first. He ushered her out to the car, opened the door, refrained with exacting precision from touching her and slammed the door in her ear.

Kay winced, crossed her legs nervously, arranged the purse on her lap and tried hard not to let her teeth chatter in the frigid air until Mitch could get the heater going. Chattering teeth would be a hint of weakness, of human feeling. She had no human feeling for Mitch. She felt used, and she wasn’t likely to forget it. The instant she’d brought up the subject at the cabin, he’d whipped out of the relationship like a man set free. He just hadn’t thought about it like that before, he’d said; maybe not, but as soon as she’d pointed out that first didn’t have to be last, he’d all too quickly agreed. He hadn’t been able to take her home fast enough the next morning. She’d been the first notch in his belt; she had no doubt there’d be thousands of others after her.

The heat hadn’t begun to work by the time Mitch had driven five doors down the street and parked the car again. They could have walked, Kay thought wryly. A car rolled up behind them, and they would unfortunately be pinned in. Mitch didn’t seem to notice.

“Listen, Mitch…” she said as he opened the car door. She glanced up at him, to see those frigid dark eyes glaring at her. Still, she tried. He wasn’t likely to know many people at Stix’s party; it was sort of an old friends’ reunion from high school. Why Mitch had insisted on keeping the date…but Mitch was stubborn like that. “Look, I’m sure you really don’t want to be here. I’m not in a mood for a party myself, and it’s not like—”

“I am very definitely in a mood for a party,” he corrected.

Well, maybe he was. After all, it was an opportunity to meet a lot of women, Kay thought bitterly.

Noise and smoke rolled out the door as Mitch opened it. Stix, five inches taller than anyone else, immediately spotted them and bore down as if he’d been waiting just for the two of them to show up. Kay was treated to a bear hug that lingered and a strangely glassy-eyed stare with a hint of sadness. Before she could make sense of that, Stix was swinging a hand in Mitch’s direction. “You damn well better take care of my best girl, hear?”

Obviously, Stix had already had his share of holiday spirits. Kay extricated herself from his abundant affection and glanced around hopelessly at the milling crowd. Dancers had rolled up the rug in the dining room and were gyrating to a primeval beat. The noise level precluded conversation, and most faces were flushed. Most faces were also at least somewhat familiar, more Stix’s crowd than hers, but certainly not strange.

She glanced back at Mitch uncertainly, to find that unreadable stare of his settling in on a roaming blonde. His suit jacket had disappeared with his topcoat, and Stix had pushed a drink into his hand before dissolving into the crowd. Mitch’s eyes darted only momentarily back to hers. “Feel free to have a good time…” He motioned to the crowd.

Hurt pulsed through her for a second and a half, but she had enough pride to stiffen her spine. The roaming blonde cast Mitch another sideways look, and Kay stepped forward. If he wanted a few more notches in his belt, she was about to introduce him to the best notch carver in Moscow. Stephanie had been the busiest girl in high school; on successive Friday nights she’d worked her way through the entire roster of senior class boys. Some ten years later, in a white silk jumpsuit without a damn thing underneath it, she was clearly still ripe and ready.

“Stephanie!” Kay said delightedly.

Grabbing Mitch’s hand, she ignored his startled jolt, and beamed at the sultry blonde. “I haven’t seen you in so long,” she said vibrantly to the other woman. “This is Mitch Cochran. Mitch, Stephanie is one of my oldest…friends…”

Now, she hadn’t meant to hesitate on the word. Neither seemed to notice. Mitch’s eyes were riveted on the pair of nipples poking out of white silk; Stephanie thrust them forward, and Kay catapulted to the bar for a drink.

A grinning man behind the bar served her something or other. She took a sip, and grimaced. Rum. There was probably something more terrible tasting than rum, but she didn’t know what it was.

Roger caught sight of her and dragged her to the floor for a dance. Roger was nice-looking and bearded and soft-eyed, and she’d known him for years. The song was an old Michael Jackson number; no one could resist the primitive rhythm, and Roger could swing his pelvis like a reincarnation of Elvis. Unfortunately, the only thing Kay was in the mood to beat was Stephanie.

Mitch seemed to be getting along fine with her. Just fine. He was leaning over, trying to hear what that itty-bitty voice was saying. Undoubtedly, something priceless. And luckily, those nipples of Stephanie’s weren’t sharp, or she’d be ripping out of that jumpsuit and standing stark naked.

“Kay?” Roger broke into her thoughts. Clearly, he wondered why she wasn’t dancing anymore.

Kay blew him a kiss and maneuvered around the other dancing couples in a beeline for Mitch. She grabbed his arm from behind, smiling brilliantly when both he and Stephanie turned startled stares at her. “The music is terrific, isn’t it?”

Stephanie looked bewildered.

“I saw you were having a good time,” Mitch said flatly. “Don’t interrupt your fun on my account. I don’t dance.”

“I
love
to dance,” Kay said lightly. “Stephanie, Roger was looking all over for you.” Kay’s eyes skimmed the crowd. If he wanted notches, he could have his notches. But Stephanie wasn’t going to carve them. She hooked an arm around Mitch’s elbow, ignoring his stiffness, leading him inexorably toward a curly-headed brunette in black.

Janet at least had a brain. She was a little flat-chested, but she was presentable, intelligent and had a fantastic sense of humor.

Mitch got the message. Oh, he got the message. She was working hard at pairing him off with some other woman. Anyone but her.
She didn’t give a damn.

“Kay always had the silliest sense of humor.” The brunette somewhere way below him giggled.

He glanced down. She
was
there, all five feet one of her. What was her name? Jane? No, Janet. “Do you want a drink, Janet?” he asked.

“Sure.”

He edged through the crowd and brought back two drinks from the bar. In the distance, he could see the flicker of star-bright silver. A burly man had his arm around Kay’s shoulders; a tall fellow swooped down for a hug. More old lovers, undoubtedly. She was laughing merrily. In her element, entertaining the boys.

“You like baseball?”

Mitch’s head swiveled around. “Football, hockey, basketball.”

Janet shrugged. “What do you do?”

“I’m in geology. You?”

She was a professor at the university. Mathematics. One of his best subjects. They had a few university friends in common, and they battled to keep up a conversation over the noise in the crowded room. But Mitch’s eyes kept straying to Kay.

She was talking to a couple, waving a drink in her hand, but there was a black-haired bastard eyeing her from across the room. Her face was flushed, her eyes overbright, and he saw her finish the drink, make a dreadful face and set the glass down on a table.

It wasn’t like Kay to drink too much. The black-haired creep wandered closer and then zeroed in on her. Kay glanced up and nodded, and Mitch watched them move to the dance floor. The number was fast, and her breasts were moving with tantalizing rhythm to the beat.

“Good heavens!”

Mitch glanced back at Janet, then with a wry look at the half-spilled drink in his hand. “I didn’t spill it on you—”

“No. Someone must have bumped you from behind. It’s so crowded in here…” Her eyes very shyly invited.

Mitch stifled a sigh. “Could I get you another drink?”

“Sure.”

When he came back with Janet’s screwdriver, Kay was still on the dance floor. Her current partner was a tall blond man with a mustache. She obviously knew him well.
Very
well, from the look of the hug she gave him.

Mitch handed Janet her drink and gave her his warmest smile. “You’ve been at the university how many years?” he questioned.

“Five.”

The music changed to a slow number. The blond tugged Kay close, and for a minute Mitch lost sight of them. There were too many people and too much smoke, and a half-dozen more couples had crowded the floor to dance to the seductive love song.

“Mitch?”

He forced his head back in Janet’s direction. “Sorry?”

“I just asked you—”

Kay had her hands on the blond’s shoulders. No big deal. Then the man’s hands were on her shoulders, which was also no particular big deal. Except the blond’s hands started roaming. Someone cut in front of them, and Mitch couldn’t see.

“Listen,” Janet said politely.

“Just a second, okay?” Mitch murmured. He smiled, handed her his drink and turned around. His smiled died. The blond had just made a terrible mistake, letting his hands roam down to Kay’s hips.

If he ended up alive, he’d be lucky.

***

Kay shifted nervously, trying with body language to communicate to Hal that New Year’s Eve was a festive occasion, that she forgave him ninety times over for the seven scotches he’d already had, and that she wished he’d keep his hands to himself.

When body language failed, she tried a polite “Hal,” to get his attention.

But his head seemed to be drooping over her shoulder.

“Hal,” she repeated cheerfully.

His big blue eyes met hers. “I love you, Kay,” he said groggily. “I loved you in high school. Did you know that?”

“I…no. Listen—”

Long before she could finish the thought, Hal’s roaming hands were whisked off her flesh as if airborne. Startled, Kay jerked up her head to find Mitch’s lethal eyes bearing down on an unsuspecting Hal. She didn’t have a chance to close her mouth before a long, strong body insinuated itself between her and her dancing partner. “Take a real long hike, won’t you, sport?” Mitch tried to make his voice cordial.

“Kay?” Hal’s limpid blue eyes registered total confusion, but already he was two dancing couples distant. Mitch wasn’t exactly moving in slow motion.

Tough, sinewy muscles jammed most intimately against hers, bearing her off into a corner. “Would you like to see that little mustache of his pulled out hair by hair?” Mitch murmured.

“Hal?”

“For two cents, I’d rearrange the knuckles on those busy hands of his.”

“Mitch—”

His lips covered hers. Her arms seemed to be waving around in midair, until she found the material of his shirt to hold on to. She felt the tension of a man who was furious, the tenderness of a man who loved beyond measure and the sheer sexual vibrations of the only man who stirred the same instant, abandoned response in her.

It wasn’t the kiss of a man who had his mind on pursuing other women. Actually, it wasn’t even a nice kiss; that sweet pressure on her lips radiated possessiveness and jealousy and anger…dreadful character traits. Who would have guessed Mitch had such a temper?

Mitch’s lips lifted only when she made a tiny sound at the back of her throat. “Dammit. Did I hurt you?” he growled.

“Not really.”

His mouth homed in on the target. People were staring. They seemed to be smiling as they stared, though. Kay closed her eyes so they would all go away. Mitch was communicating some very intimate things; Mitch had always been very good at communicating very intimate things with kisses. The distant, cold man who’d arrived at her house to escort her to the party had disappeared. The man who was holding her like a tightly wrapped treasure was not at all cool, not at all in control…and Kay’s heart was inexplicably taking off on its own private jet flight. She remembered her fears that he’d want to try out his wings with other women… Well, it was hard to hold on to those fears when he was making it so very clear that a Kay-and-Mitch team was the only thing on his mind.

Mitch’s lips gradually lifted when he was sure he’d made it absolutely clear that the chemistry between them wasn’t something she should be in a hurry to throw away. His eyes locked with hers; the noise of the party returned, and he grabbed her wrist in a handcuff grip. “We’re going home,” he said flatly. “Hug all the men you want to on the way out. Just understand that every one of them is going to be decked flat out.”