Captive at Christmas (11 page)

Hannah knew nothing but the rippling heat coursing through her body, the intensity of her need for Mac and his for her, and an almost desperate longing for release.

He reached down, pinching her sensitive bud with his thumb and forefinger. Completely of its own volition, her body rocked back against his. Hannah was boiling hot, feeling wanton and sensual as he brought her to the edge of reason itself.

Nothing made sense except the two of them, together, their bodies joining in an uninhibited frenzy. Then, with a harsh call of her name, Mac shot his release, the clenching of her muscles as she rode out the final waves of her own orgasm bringing him with her. He slumped on top of her, forcing her boneless body into the mattress.

“Jesus, Hannah.” Strong arms slipped around her, clasping her tightly to his chest. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Too breathless to reply with her voice, she shook her head. Warm, wet lips touched the base of her neck and remained there. Hannah imagined it was his way of telling her how much he cared. Then the thought of never seeing him again countered her fantasy.

Maybe the furious pace of their coupling triggered this flood of emotions to build up inside of her, perhaps it was something else entirely that caused the deluge of tears to fall. Regardless of the reason for them, she made sure that Mac did not catch her sobbing softly into the blankets.

After a while, when the beating of their hearts subsided to a normal level, he lifted her from the bed and carried Hannah to the Jacuzzi. She wove her arms about his neck, pressed her face into his chest and wrapped her legs firmly around his waist as he submerged them both.

If only she could keep him forever, life might seem worth living once she had to return to it. As things stood now, Hannah never wanted to leave this cabin. She wanted to stay here forever with Mac, holding him, loving him.

At the same time, she understood that love was not conditional. True, irrevocable and boundless love like the kind she felt for him. Hannah knew, even before giving herself to him, that their limited time together eventually had to come to an end.

What happened after he left, she had absolutely no control over. But the time they spent together, that was something she
could
control, to a certain extent. While in his presence, Hannah could show – and tell – him exactly how she felt and what an important part of her life he had become.

That evening, after Christmas dinner, Hannah curled up in Mac’s lap next to the fire. He spoke not a word since they left the bed for the water, but the tension continued to roll off of him like waves of heat. Whatever he had on his mind, he obviously did not want to discuss.

At least, not with her.

In a way, this caused her a deep and profound sadness. A dark and despondent cloud settled overhead with no signs of letting up. Perhaps it was something he needed to work out on his own. Still, she wished he would confide in her. That way, she might feel like a real part of his life, no matter how small and insignificant.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re the perfect woman?”

His comment shocked her, seeming to arrive from nowhere. Too stunned to even move, she focused on the sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear and the feel of his hands, continuously combing through her hair.

He thought her perfect?

Hannah knew she was far from it. Too self-conscious, confrontational, emotional … If anything, she fit nicely into the ‘probably best to stay away from’ category.

Mac laughed into her hair, a dark and sensual sound that aroused and confused her all at once. “Need me to explain?”

Hannah nodded against the fabric of his sweater.

“This has always been a very difficult day for me. Memories of the past … Not once have you expected anything from me, but you haven’t tiptoed around me, either.” His hands faltered, though he recovered himself quickly. “Whether you sensed I needed this and…I…well…” He expelled the air from his lungs in a long, drawn out hiss. “Today, you have been very…accommodating. And I thank you for it.”

What on earth could she say in response to that? Hannah wished that he would confide in her, though she didn’t want to push him to do so. If only Mac trusted her enough to open his heart and mind, as he had his body. But, she reminded herself that whatever they were sharing here, it would end when they left the cabin. If only there was something she could say to change how he felt regarding the future.

Their future.

What if she told him?

What if Hannah explained how deep her feelings ran, and made it clear that she didn’t care about anything but him and the person he was at this very moment?

Would it make a difference?

As if reading her mind, Mac continued. “You don’t need to say anything, I just had to tell you…to tell you that I…”

Hannah turned in his arms to meet his gaze. The taut muscles of his clenched jaw belied the look in his eyes, a churning sea of ice-grey, reflecting the light from the fire. Neither expressed what he might be having trouble telling her.

~~~

Christ, why could he not just come out and say the damn words?

Everything sounded absolutely perfect in his mind. Mac said what he needed to say there without his damned tongue getting in the way and everything was freaking great. But when it came time for brain and mouth to work in tandem, something went horribly wrong.

Hell, put him in a harsh environment with a sniper rifle and give him a target, Mac had no issues. Trying to tell the most incredible woman he’d ever known – who changed him, healed him and loved him – that he worshipped the very air she breathed …

Jesus, that full rounded ass of hers grinding against his steel girder hard shaft certainly did not make things any easier.

Okay, just open your mouth and say the words. You’ve been through torture – which this most certainly is not – so how hard can it be to tell her how you feel?

“Mac, it’s alright.” She turned in his lap, sliding her legs around his waist. The feel of her heat aroused him again. “I think I know what you’re attempting to say. I can’t even begin to explain how my feelings are rational, but I
know
they are. I
know
how much I care about you and I
know
that what I’m feeling is real. That I’ll always feel this way about you.”

She continued to amaze him with her insight and the ability to come out and say exactly what was on her mind and in her heart. “Just wish I could say something,” he grumbled at her throat. Hannah moaned with the contact of his lips to her neck. “Find the words …”

“You don’t need to,” she whispered. “I can feel it.”

Maybe he couldn’t get the damned words out because once he left, he’d never see her again.

Although, shouldn’t that have made things easier?

After putting out the fire, Mac lifted Hannah in his arms and carried her to bed for the night. She stripped his clothes off and then hers, pulling him into her arms. Somehow, this woman always knew exactly what he needed, what he wanted. And although he certainly could have done with another round of what they had earlier, Mac was happier to rest his head above her heart and fall asleep to the gentle thumping of its beating.

In the middle of the night, he awoke to hear whimpering. Hannah was at the other end of the bed, curled up in a ball, shuddering violently. The sound of her crying wrenched at his heart. But the desperate plea for help jarred his soul loose from his body for a few seconds. Mac reached for her, cradling the sobbing Hannah in his arms.

She called out for help, over and over again, arms flailing. Though her eyes were open, frantically searching for something that wasn’t there, he knew she was not conscious. He’d woken up to find her in the middle of a full-fledged and viciously painful nightmare. Something he knew all too well. For whatever reason, Hannah suffered from some kind of post-traumatic stress.

“No! Get away from him!” she wailed, fingers clenching the sheets. “Erik! Oh God, no!”

“Hannah!” Using more force than he liked, Mac framed her face. For a moment, she froze. Then reality set in. Hannah blinked, her wide eyes taking in her surroundings. When her gaze settled on him, confusion flashed over her features. “You were having a nightmare.”

She sighed and closed her eyes, slumping to his chest. “It was about my brother,” she offered. “The day he…died.”

That little sob before she spoke the word caused a lump of emotions to rise up in his throat. Mac knew he was useless to offer any advice here, but what he could do, he did. With just the right amount of pressure, he held her close and gently rocked from side to side.

Their time together would come to an end soon.

Too soon.

He needed to remember that.

Little good that thought did when he’d already lost his heart and fallen in love with Hannah Magnus.

Not just love, though, this was something deeper, something much stronger. She had become a part of him, burrowing her way into the very depths of his heart and his brain. Regardless of the future, Hannah would be a part of his very best memories. When he returned home and brought Kayla with him, Mac would at least have her in his head. That would have to suffice. Even if he God damned well hated every frigging second of it.

Hannah ended up crying herself to sleep in his arms, the soft little sobs punctuated by the odd hiccup. Once she went limp, he still didn’t let her go. If he did, Mac began to wonder if he’d ever be able to let her go. In fact, he was damned sure he didn’t want to. But as the saying goes, you can’t always get what you want. And Mackenzie was a man who rarely got what he wanted when it came to love and happiness.

A sleepless night never did serve him well and when he rolled out of bed, Mac felt like hell. It had nothing to do with Hannah and her continued nightmares, but the news he received yesterday. Mac had to make arrangements to get Kayla over from England.

Jesus, she would need to be schooled, have friends and…well, whatever else teenage girls needed. Hell, he didn’t have the first damned clue here.

It was time to make a phone call.

He pulled on his jeans and sweater from yesterday and carried his socks and boots to the other room, closing the door behind him. Donning the rest of his gear, Mac slipped out of the cabin, his eyes scanning the surrounding area for any sign of trouble. Of course Aaron wouldn’t come up here and check himself, the man was notoriously lazy.

And too damned cheap to pay anyone else to do it for him.

So now, for all intents and purposes, Mackenzie Dunlop, the government’s pawn, no longer existed. He felt alright, for a dead man, despite the ache in his head regarding Kayla and the hole in his heart that would only expand to a hopelessly wide chasm when he left Hannah.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Mac dug out his cell from his jeans pocket and dialled the number that he had been dreading, ever since he first caught wind of Kayla. Her mother answered on the third ring. Vivian sounded terrible, though he made sure to keep that thought to himself.

“Mac. I’m so glad you rang. There isn’t…I don’t have much time left.” A loud, hacking cough propelled through the line as if to punctuate the grave nature of her words. “Have you come to a decision?”

It wasn’t as if he had much of a choice in the matter. The DNA test proved that he fathered a child and that now child needed him. He would never become the kind of man his father had, a man who abandoned his responsibilities because he didn’t want to take them on, or when something better came around.

No, this was important. Kayla was important.

Regardless of his unknown participation in creating her, the kid needed him. And Mac had a feeling that he would need her just as much while trying to get on with life after Hannah.

Without Hannah.

Just thinking about it was like a wrecking ball to the gut, crushing his very soul into splintered shards.

“Of course I’ll take care of Kayla,” he replied, biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt to keep his emotions from betraying him. “Just fill me in on everything that I’ve missed and tell me what I need to do.” Hell if he knew anything about kids or what it took to raise them. As for Vivian holding back Kayla’s existence from him, Mac already came to terms with that. What point would there have been to tell him if he’d never be in one place long enough to be any kind of father?