Death is Forever (16 page)

“You’re not a bit clumsy.” He dropped the bandages into her lap. “And I like having your hands on me.”

Her head snapped up.

“How about you, Erin?” he asked, watching her intently. “Do you like having your hands on me?”

“I don’t like hurting you.” Tears filled her eyes, magnifying their beauty. “I’m sorry, Cole. I really don’t mean to hurt you.”

His fingertips brushed the length of her right cheekbone. “Such a tender little thing to be so brave.”

“I’m not brave. I was so scared I was shaking.”

“What do you think courage is, honey? It’s being scared and getting the job done anyway. The rest of it is just bells and whistles. Useless.”

Calloused fingertips caught the tears that trembled on the edge of release. He brought his hand to his lips, tasting the clear, diamond-bright drops.

“Salty and very, very sweet. Nobody has ever cried for me, Erin. Not one person on earth.”

She closed her eyes, unable to bear the intensity in his. When she opened them again, it was to concentrate on Cole’s wound. She smoothed the bandages over his leg, trying not to hurt him. It wasn’t easy. Her concentration kept splintering over his words and the fact that she was kneeling between the legs of a man who was nearly naked and fully aroused, yet wasn’t touching her in any way.

But what really ruined her concentration was that she wasn’t afraid. She should have been terrified by his strength and his arousal. She wasn’t. She was restless, nervous, jumpy, and alert, but she wasn’t afraid.

“That should do it,” she said in a husky voice.

Hurriedly she stood and walked into the bedroom. She didn’t hear Cole get up, didn’t hear him follow her, but she sensed that he had. His hands settled on her shoulders and squeezed lightly.

“Thanks.” His voice changed, becoming harder. “But honey, the next time I tell you to run,
you damn well better run.
”

“I couldn’t have run even if I’d wanted to,” she said, exasperated and angry. “That bastard hit me so hard I couldn’t breathe for—”

“He hit you?” Big hands spun Erin around, stopping her words. “Where?”

“Here,” she said, pointing just below her breastbone.

Without a word he began unbuttoning her blouse.

“Cole! What do you think you’re doing!” she said, pushing at his hands.

“Hold still.”

It was the same flat voice that Cole had used on the attackers. She obeyed instantly, but it was from surprise rather than fear. With a feeling of disbelief she watched her blouse separate beneath his deft fingers. She opened her mouth but no words came.

“Does this hurt?” he asked impersonally.

She felt the exquisitely gentle probing of his fingertips along her ribs. Odd shivers of response marched over her skin, leaving a wake of goose bumps.

“Does it hurt?” he asked again, looking into her shocked eyes.

Her mouth opened but she couldn’t even take a breath. She shook her head in a negative.

“This?”

Warm, slightly rough fingertips moved along her ribs to her breastbone.

“A little,” she whispered.

She saw him frown and felt the pressure of his fingertips increase.

“Now?”

“That hurts a little more, but still not much.”

She watched Cole’s face as he touched her. His eyelashes were very thick, very black, making his eyes appear like clear crystal touched with tiny shards of blue and green. The intense black of his hair was reflected in the heavy shadow of beard darkening his tan skin.

“Take a deep breath,” he said.

She breathed in.

“Again. Deeper.” Cole watched her face closely but saw no sign of real pain. Her ribs rose reassuringly beneath his hands, telling him she was able to fill her lungs in a normal way. “Does it hurt now?”

“Some, but not enough to interfere with breathing. Really. I’ve been hurt much worse tripping over camera equipment.”

He smiled slightly and kept probing. “Ribs?”

She shook her head.

“Here?”

“Ouch!”

“That’s what I thought. Your ribs are okay but you took a shot to the diaphragm.” His fingertips traced the beginnings of a bruise. “You’re going to be wearing a rainbow for a few days.” He turned her around so that her back was to him. “You hurt anywhere else?” he continued, running his hands over her slowly. “Spine? Kidneys?”

“No.”

“Sure?” he asked, kneading Erin’s lower back gently, searching for any signs of soreness, any flinching away from his light, probing touches.

“I’m sure.”

“Let me know if that changes.”

Cole turned Erin around and calmly began buttoning her blouse once more, trying very hard not to notice the taut swell of her breasts beneath her bra and the soft heat of her skin. When his hands were between her breasts, she took a swift, involuntary breath. Unavoidably his hands brushed against her.

She felt the accidental touch and held her breath, waiting for him to take advantage of the moment. She knew he wanted her. He couldn’t hide his arousal while standing in front of her wearing jockey shorts that were be coming less concealing with every one of his heartbeats.

Without a pause, he kept buttoning her shirt.

She closed her eyes and told herself that she was relieved, not disappointed. Cole’s past might have been as shadowed as a midnight jungle, but his deepest instincts were honorable. He would protect rather than brutalize. Yet there was no doubt that he could, and would, fight with disciplined savagery if he had to.

That’s the key,
she realized.
Discipline.

More than any man she’d ever known—even her father—Cole was in control of his mind, of his body, of his instincts, of himself. The certainty of his self-control raced through her, more heady than wine, leaving a curious heat in its wake.

“Be sure to tell me if you start hurting,” he said again, turning away. “I’m going to wash out my slacks.”

“Cole?”

Her voice dried up as she watched him turn toward her once more. He was so much bigger than she was, so much stronger, nearly naked, and his eyes were burning as he watched her.

“You better lie down, honey. You look a little strung out.”

For the space of one breath, two, Erin didn’t answer.

Then she went to the bed and lay down. As she closed her eyes, the sound of running water came from the bathroom.

Using the bathtub faucet Cole repeatedly rinsed blood from his slacks. When the water running through the pants came out clear rather than red or pink, he wrung out the slacks, rolled them up in a towel and squeezed, blotting up water. A snap of his wrist shook the cloth out. He tossed the slacks over the shower rack to dry, picked up his shirt, and put it on.

He took a lot of time, long enough for his fierce arousal to subside.

When he came out of the bathroom, Erin was lying wide-eyed on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Does your diaphragm hurt?” he asked. “Is it keeping you awake?”

She wondered how to tell him that she wasn’t closing her eyes because every time she did she saw an image of him, his chest naked except for a black wedge of hair that tapered to a line and vanished behind the white of his underwear.

“Erin?”

“Every time I close my eyes I see…” Her voice died.

“The fight?” he asked.

She shook her head. “You.”

The corner of his mouth turned down. “And that scares you.”

“Not…quite.”

Cole didn’t miss her exact imitation of his earlier words. He crossed the room and stood by the bed, watching her. “Are you trying to tell me something?” he asked.

Her head turned toward him, revealing brilliant green eyes and a smile that hovered on the edge of turning upside down. “I liked you better without the shirt.”

“Did you? I got the feeling it made you uneasy as hell.”

“There’s rather a lot of you,” she said, watching him through thick, lowered lashes.

“You noticed,” he said dryly.

When Erin realized where she was looking, she blushed to the roots of her hair. “You’re making this hard for me.”

“No. That’s what you’re doing to me. Again.”

“I noticed,” she muttered.

He laughed, surprised as always by her combination of wariness and humor. The laugh ended as his breath came in with a soft, ripping sound. Erin’s hand was on his leg, her fingertips light against his skin as she traced the edge of the bandage.

“That’s dangerous territory, honey.”

“It’s all I can reach from here.”

“If I get any closer, I’ll be in bed with you. Is that what you want?”

“I…” Her voice died. She swallowed and tried again. “I don’t know. All I know is I like touching you. I like looking at you. I like it when you hold me. I like it when you kiss me. I like the taste of your skin. I like the feel of your hands on me.” She looked at him in unconscious appeal. “I want you more than I ever thought I’d want any man. Is that enough?”

“It’s a hell of a start,” he said in a low voice. “Move over, honey. Let’s find out what else you like.”

Wondering if she’d made the right choice, she moved over. She felt the mattress give deeply as his weight settled on it. Torn between fear and desire, she closed her eyes and waited for him to pull her into his arms.

When he didn’t, she opened her eyes. He was unbuttoning his shirt and watching her with an intensity that made her breath shorten.

“Cole?”

“Whatever you want,” he said simply, throwing the shirt aside. “But you have to tell me, Erin. I won’t take a chance on guessing wrong and frightening you.”

She gave an odd laugh. “Some of the things I want with you already frighten me.”

He smiled slowly. “Sounds interesting. Should we begin with them or save them for last?”

“I think…a kiss.”

As she spoke, she looked at his mouth with an unconscious hunger that made Cole as hot as a physical caress. Desire wedged in his throat, in his gut, ripping at him. With a silent curse, he hoped that his self-control was as good as he’d always thought it was.

Deliberately he lay on his back, laced his fingers together, and put his hands behind his head. “Then why don’t you come here and kiss me?” he said.

Surprised, she hesitated. Even after Cole’s statement about not frightening her, somehow she’d expected him to quickly take the lead. That he hadn’t both reassured and tantalized her, for as he lay on his back there was no doubt of his own arousal.

Slowly she turned onto her side and bent down to Cole’s mouth. The kiss was gentle, almost chaste, until she ran the tip of her tongue along his lips. The taste of him was even better than she remembered, hotter. The feel of his tongue caressing her own made streamers of sensation uncurl in the pit of her stomach.

She didn’t know how long she kissed him before both of them were breathing quickly and she was making small sounds at the back of her throat with each deep, slow stroke of his tongue. At every breath, every heartbeat, she joined her mouth more deeply with his, lured by the hot pleasures of his kiss. Slowly her hands began to explore his arms, from his strong wrists to the hard swell of biceps and shoulders to the surprising, exquisite softness of the hair beneath his arms.

For long moments she savored that unexpected silkiness. Then her fingers moved on, exploring. She threaded through the intriguing fur on his chest, stroking and kneading the flesh beneath, silently telling him just how much she enjoyed his masculine textures and strength, and drawing a nearly soundless groan of pleasure from him when her fingers skimmed the flat disks of his nipples.

“Did you like that?” she asked, touching his nipples again, feeling them change as they drew into tight beads.

“I’m not sure,” he said in a low voice. “Why don’t you try it five or ten more times?”

For an instant Erin didn’t understand. Then she did, and laughed. “You’re teasing me.”

“I would have sworn it was the other way around,” he said. “But I’ll forgive you if—”

Cole’s voice broke as her hands skimmed down to the elastic band of his underwear. And stopped. When she reversed direction and went stroking back up his chest, he had to bite back words of disappointment. Slowly she bent and tasted first his neck, then the middle line of his body to his breastbone. With great care she closed her teeth over a sleek swell of muscle. His breath broke again and she smiled.

“I like that,” she said. “I like knowing I can affect you.”

“Then run your hands a little farther down and watch the fireworks,” he offered, smiling despite the need that made his whole body clench.

Her laughter was like soft flames licking against his stomach. For a few moments there was only the sound of skin sliding over skin and his quickening breaths as she stroked his chest.

“Cole,” she whispered against his neck, “would you touch me too?”

He unlocked fingers that ached from the pressure he’d used to keep from reaching for the soft temptation of her body.

“Where?” he asked huskily.

She made a puzzled sound against his skin.

“Where do you want to be touched?” Cole felt the heat of Erin’s blush where her cheek lay against his chest. He smiled. “Good. That’s one of the places I’m dying to touch.”

But he teased her first, caressing the hollows beneath her slanting cheekbones, fitting the warmth of her neck into the hard curve of his palm, massaging her arms from shoulders to fingertips until her eyes closed and his name came from her lips in a sigh of pleasure. He kept stroking her until she began to twist in slow motion against his hand, wanting him to touch the breasts whose nipples were growing hard with her own arousal.

“Cole, please,” she said, her voice husky.

“Please, what?”

Instead of answering, she took his hand and drew it over one breast. The first instant of contact made her shiver. Instinctively she moved against him, trying to ease the sensual ache as her nipple hardened in a rush.

Cole felt the change in her, saw it, and the force of his own response made his hand shake. Slender fingers closed over his, but not to push him away. Slowly she pressed him closer and yet closer, moving against his hard palm.

“Do you like that?” he asked, trying to make his voice gentle, and failing. His tone was like his body, too hard, too hot, too obviously aroused.

“Yes, but…”

He set his jaw and lifted his hand, freeing her. Immediately her arms moved as though to shield her breasts if he changed his mind.

“It’s all right,” he said.

Then he realized that Erin wasn’t withdrawing. She was trying to unbutton her blouse, but her hands were trembling too much. A wave of desire clenched his body, shaking him with its intensity. He took her hands, brushed his lips over them, and smoothed her fingers against his chest.

“Let me,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m shaking, but I’m not scared. Really I’m not.”

“Look at my hands.”

She looked, saw the fine tremor in his fingers, and made a sound of surprise.

“Yeah, it shocked me too,” he said. “I’ve never wanted a woman until my hands shook.”

Her eyes widened. She glanced back to his face and saw that he was watching her, half expecting her to panic.

“Should that make me nervous?” she asked.

“Why not?” he muttered. “It scares the hell out of me.”

Deliberately Erin glanced down the length of his torso.

“Um, I don’t know how to put this, but that doesn’t look like fright.”

Cole laughed and the claws of hunger loosened in his groin. His fingers eased between the warm folds of her blouse, pushing aside the dark cloth until he could see the smooth rise of her breasts beneath a rose-colored bra.

“Should I stop now?” he asked, sliding a fingertip beneath the edge of the bra, skimming the rising and falling of her breasts. “Or do you want me to touch you the way you touched me?”

Before courage deserted her, Erin reached up and undid the front fastening of her bra.

For the space of two breaths Cole simply looked at her and counted the pulse hammering in his body. Her breasts were more beautiful than he had expected, full and high, and her nipples were flushed deep rose with desire. Her skin was flushed as well, bringing into stark relief the fine white lines of old scars.

Understanding hit, bringing him under control in a freezing rush.
“He used a knife on you.”

It took her a moment to figure out what Cole meant.

“I forgot about the scars,” she said. “They’re much less ugly than they used to be, but I understand if you don’t want to—”

Erin’s voice broke as the tip of Cole’s tongue traced first one scar, then another, then another, touching her so gently that tears gathered and overflowed. His words were another kind of caress, a glittering fire licking over her mind and body, telling her that she was beautiful, softness and heat, sweetness and hunger, a sensual fire burning all the way to his soul.

The restraint and unexpected tenderness of his caresses unraveled her. She forgot the past, forgot the future, forgot everything but the exquisite sensations radiating through her body with each touch of Cole’s hands, his body, his mouth, until she was breathless and whimpering softly, twisting against him in slow motion.

Cole felt her response in the heat of her skin, tasted it in the fine mist he licked from between her breasts, heard it in the soft, broken cries that were his name. Her sensuality was as unexpected as it was uninhibited. Blood hammered through him so fiercely he could barely breathe. He bent to her breasts once more, tugging on a hard peak with his mouth while his hand slid down her body, undoing her clothes, pushing them to her knees, then returning to find the softness and heat that had been hidden beneath cloth.

When his hand curled possessively around her tangled thatch of hair, Erin went rigid.

Instantly Cole retreated. Then her sultry response spilled over his fingers. A wild answering heat swept through him, making him groan with the knowledge that it was pleasure, not fear, that had tightened her body. He moved his hand again, rubbing his palm over her sensitive flesh, and was answered with another passionate shudder. Unable to stop himself, he slid one finger between soft folds of skin and caressed even softer, hotter flesh.

“Cole.”
Her husky voice was barely recognizable.

“I’m right here,” he said, teasing the hard peaks of her breasts with his tongue while his finger slowly withdrew from her body, only to return even more deeply. “Do you want me to stop?”

She laughed a little wildly. Then her breath broke in a cry of surprise as pleasure burst, sending heat shimmering through her. Instinctively she moved, seeking more of his touch, needing it with a force she neither understood nor questioned.

“Is that yes or no?” he asked, biting her nipple with exquisite care.

Another shudder of pleasure ripped through her, taking her voice. “Yes,” she managed finally. “I mean no.”

Erin’s eyes opened. Their smoldering color was more beautiful than anything Cole had ever seen, even the green diamond she’d given him.

“Don’t stop,” she said.

“Does that mean I can finish undressing you?” he asked, his voice as caressing as his hand.

She looked down the length of her own body to the dark masculine hand nestled between her legs. She made an odd sound, not quite laughter and not quite embarrassment.

“All I’m really wearing is you,” she said. “I should be embarrassed, but I…like it.”

Cole set his jaw against the force of his own response. Erin’s honesty and sensuality kept taking him by surprise, stripping away his control with every hot word, every hungry movement, her eyes a green fire burning through him. He tried to be gentle as he took off the rest of their clothes, but he knew he was moving too quickly, almost clumsy with the violence of his own need. He saw her head turn slightly and knew the exact instant she saw that he was as naked as she was, lying on his back, unable to hide the extent of his arousal.

Closing his eyes, Cole prayed he wouldn’t have to find out if he could keep the promise he had made to her:
We could be dead naked and you could be all over me like a hot rain, but if you changed your mind I’d get up and get dressed and that would be the end of it
.

“Cole?”

His eyes opened. “Frightened?”

Slowly she shook her head.

“Sure?”

She nodded.

“Then what is it, honey?”

Unable to bear his intent look, Erin bent and brushed her mouth over his shoulder while she asked her question. “Is it all right if I touch you?”