Don’t Call Me Sweetheart (17 page)

Christian glanced, startled, into Whitney’s upturned face
and knew instantly that he had allowed things to progress much too far. Seeing
that her cheeks were flushed with passion and her lips had parted in invitation
to his kiss, he realized that she was no longer receiving punishment but
inflicting it instead. He had to stop before it was too late.

Abruptly, he released her and rolled to his feet. Towering
above her and looking at the confusion on her beautiful features he knew it
would be the hardest thing he had ever done, short of burying his parents, to
walk away from her at that moment. But he had to. If he consummated the
marriage, he would be tied to her for the rest of his life, forsaking his
independence, his freedom, his will. Regardless of what he had told her, he
took vows made to the Almighty as sacred and would never be unfaithful or
embarrass someone who bore his name. Right now, he had to return their
relationship to the safety of shared animosity.

“If there’s a next time, you won’t walk away untouched if
you get my meaning, sweetheart.” Christian flung the words at Whitney as she
struggled to her knees. “You’ll become Mrs. Christian Dade in every sense of
the word if you aren’t careful.”

With that he turned and sauntered out of the dining room,
leaving Whitney furious, frustrated and feeling wretchedly foolish to have
thought that she could trust him to keep his hands off her.

He hadn’t needed to use his hands.

She had conveniently played along and given a fine
performance of the outraged virgin turned sex-starved vixen for him hadn’t she?
He hadn’t even needed to undress her. She felt a sudden urge to wash away the
feelings of degradation and humiliation she had helped place on her shoulders
by soaking in the hot tub. No one else was there and she seriously doubted that
she would see Christian again for the duration of their forced coexistence. She
wouldn’t if she had anything to say about it anyway.

Within fifteen minutes she had changed into her bikini and
donned a fluffy white dressing robe. After piling her shining curls on top of
her head she tucked her headphones in a large pocket, stepped into thick warm
slippers and hurried out to the gazebo where the hot tub stood, steaming and
inviting. As always, she felt the solitude begin to erase the stresses of her
life. Had she actually been ready to give herself to the black-eyed devil who
was now her husband?

Stripping off the robe she eased herself into the swirling
waters, delighting in the languorous feeling. She had always said that she
would save her virginity for her husband but she had meant a husband she could
love, not an irresponsible, domineering, argumentative tyrant. Was she ready to
commit her heart to such a man? If only he would show her some measure of
kindness, of humanity, instead of always provoking the worst in her. Why couldn’t
he do that?

Christian wondered the same thing as he stood watching his
auburn-haired angel relaxing in the misty waters of the sunken tub. He had come
to escape the temptations he knew the house held and found that a higher power
found it amusing to keep placing his fiery temptress directly in his path. With
her eyes closed and her head thrown back exposing the supple column of her
neck, it was hard to remember why he was trying to keep his distance. It would
be so easy to sweep her into his arms and kiss all their animosity away. She
had invaded every part of his life—his business, his home, his heart. He hadn’t
wanted her in any of them but she stubbornly refused to leave. For all his
attempts to push her away, she had steadfastly remained where she had always
been, her presence burned into his soul despite his wishes.

Would it be so terrible to make their marriage real? Would
taking her for his true wife be such a burden? Watching the gentle rise and
fall of her swelling breasts, Christian couldn’t formulate one credible reason
not to do just that. He had wanted this woman from the moment he had met her,
all shy and flustered that day in the restaurant. Each time he had held her,
touched her, dreamed of her, his determination to purge himself of her presence
had weakened and now he was left defenseless before her innocent allure. He
could no longer deny himself the sweetness her body promised, the tantalizing
treasures he had so often thought of. He knew she wanted him, her body had
answered that question time and time again despite the hateful words she threw
at him in the heat of anger. He wanted her too. It was time.

Whitney was so lost in thought as she listened to the music
floating through the headphones that she didn’t realize that Christian had slid
silently into the water with her. The warm water, the quiet song, the surreal
silent, snow-filled setting had all combined to have the desired effect she had
been searching for and she found she was very near to drifting off to sleep. She
was completely relaxed and had managed to finally, temporarily, forget the
overriding humiliation of responding to Christian’s continued mastery over her
senses. But through the hazy darkness of her thoughts she felt a silken caress
whispering along her upper thigh, the soft touch of a lover gliding up over her
taut belly. It was heavenly and she never wanted it to stop, wanting to believe
Christian could be the sensitive, masterful mate of her dreams if only this
once.

She knew it was no dream as she felt herself being wrapped
in a pair of strong arms, lifted weightlessly against a broad chest.
Christian’s springy chest hair rubbing against her sensitive skin. She could
stop this right now. With just a word. By simply opening her eyes. But if she
did, would she ever be able to stop imaging the clean, musky scent as she
pressed her face against his shoulder, clinging to him in the midst of the
building storms both inside and out? Would it be so terrible to have this one
memory to assuage her loneliness in the years to come?

She couldn’t think as a firm hand moved to the string that
held her top up and in one smooth, fluid motion she felt it fall free, leaving
her swelling breasts visible to Christian’s smoldering eyes, vulnerable to his
burning kiss. With her eyes still closed, she cried out as his dark head
lowered and he flicked one crested nipple with the hot tip of his tongue. Her
fingers wound themselves through the dark mane of his hair, drawing him closer,
silently begging him for more.

And he gave her more. His tongue lavishly painted each
breast in turn, creating spiraling, white-hot flames of yearning far within the
depths of her core. Whitney writhed in his arms beneath the onslaught of the
sensual sucking, the tender kneading, tiny whimpers escaping her as he found
more and more ways to bring her pleasure.

He raised his head and swiftly captured her lips in a
demanding kiss of such soul-searching intensity that Whitney began to wonder if
she would ever have the strength to deny herself such pleasure in the days and
weeks to come. The dark, swirling mists of sensuality he spun were such
blissful agony that she wanted to remain where she was forever. His plunging,
exploring tongue drove her mindless with desire, slipping and darting in and
out between her lips, nibbling and softly sucking on her pouting lower lip. He
covered her body with his massive frame, cradling her back against the hard
edge of the hot tub. Whitney could feel his need, hard and throbbing, against
the waiting delta between her legs.

“Whitney,” his deep voice whispered into her ear, “ask me to
stop now while I still can.”

Stop? Why would she want him to do that?

“Ummmm,” Whitney murmured, “I want you to stop talking.”

“Whitney.” Christian’s voice sounded strained. But why
should it? He had started this, made her want it too. “I’m going to make love
to you now, unless you ask me not to. I’m going to take you and you’ll truly
become my wife, is that what you want?”

Not hearing the reference to her position as his wife
Whitney knew only that she wanted him to stop talking and kiss her like he had
before. Reaching up to curl her fingers around his neck before dawn came and he
vanished, she whispered the words Christian no longer dreaded. “I’ve been
waiting for you for so long. Take me, love. I want to be yours.”

She was immediately crushed within his embrace, his lips
searing hers, sending a liquid river of molten desire coursing through her
veins. Whitney was burning with passion, was desperate to quench the unbearable
fever that was consuming her. Each touch of his hands, each stroke of his
fingers fueled the burning fire within her. She moaned into his mouth,
answering the frenzied questing of his devil-tongue with aggressive forays of
her own.

Her bikini bottom floated to the surface of the water as he
expertly removed it. She hardly noticed. Suddenly she could feel him against
her, flesh against flesh, naked need driving them both to cling to the other. Beneath
the waters their bodies came together, merging into one. With one mercifully
swift thrust her phantom pierced the barrier of her maidenhood, transforming
her into a woman in every sense of the word and his hands soothed away the
tremors of pain that followed. Slowly, insistently, he began to move within
her, turning her world into a spiraling spasm of sensation. Whitney met each
driving thrust with an instinct as old as Eve herself, giving him her body, her
soul, her heart. When the shuddering pleasure overtook her Whitney screamed
out, arching into him, finding release from the sweet torture of his touch. He
followed, her name wrested from him in a hoarse rasp as he claimed her lips
once more, spilling his seed into her channel. She was his now. She was his
forever.

They drifted back to reality, their satiated bodies still
joined and Whitney looked for the first time into the face of her husband,
seeing Christian’s familiar face, meeting the tender gaze that took in her own.
Had she really made love to her husband? She looked but there was no mocking
display of laughter in the black pools regarding her. No triumph, no victorious
smugness. But how could that be? Christian wasn’t capable of tenderness. He had
never treated her with anything other than contempt and coldness. He hadn’t
married her because he loved her, had he? No! It was because she held the key
to returning his property. And now he had seen to it that she could never have
the marriage dissolved, never escape his damned tyranny. How could she have
been so stupid? He had planned this all along, planned to seduce her so that
she would be tied to him forever. She didn’t need to see it in his eyes. She
had been treated to glimpses into his true heart often enough to know his
thoughts.

“I told you not to touch me again,” Whitney exclaimed
breathlessly, wriggling to put some distance between them.

“Correction,” Christian answered her, refusing to let her
escape now that he had discovered the treasures her beautiful body offered. “I
distinctly asked you if you wanted me to stop and you answered that you wanted
me, had been waiting for me was actually what you said. Look, I don’t want to
fight, Whitney. What passed between us was special, beautiful. It can always be
like that. Don’t you want that?”

“I don’t want you, I thought you understood that. How could
you sneak in here and take advantage of me like that? Couldn’t you see I was asleep?”

“If that’s how you sleepwalk, honey, I’ll plan to spend the
rest of my nights next to you!”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Whitney persisted, pushing
against his chest as she did so. “I thought you didn’t want me, that you were
perfectly happy with the idea of spending your time with other, more
accommodating women.”

She finally stopped moving as the contact seemed to be
having a distinct effect on Christian. He grinned wolfishly at her, daring her
to keep it up.

“Look, Whitney, I didn’t plan to do this. I came out here to
get away from you. But you were here, looking so damned beautiful that no man
would be able to maintain the kind of control we agreed to. At least now you
won’t be locked into a chaste marriage.”

Oh lord, he planned to do this some more.

“But you’ve ruined all my plans, you big jerk! Don’t you
see? As soon as Stephan got back I was going to have him prepare an annulment
and leave this place. I never planned to live in an empty marriage, I planned
to marry him!”

“Marry Stephan?” Christian couldn’t mask the surprise and
confusion her confession evoked. Stephan? His best friend? But he had never
mentioned that he had become serious with someone. Maybe it was a one-sided
relationship. God, he hoped so but for the live of him he wasn’t sure why.

“Yes, marry him! Don’t you think I’m capable of falling in
love and wanting to get married for any reason other than blackmail?”

“Are you in love with him?” The question was phrased in a
deadly serious voice, one that told her Christian needed to hear the truth. But
he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve to hear that she had tried for months
to love Stephan but couldn’t because thoughts of Christian kept her from it. Thoughts
of being near to him, making memories with him, making love to him. All this
had blocked her from the happiness she knew could be hers with Stephan. But
Christian had forced her into this marriage, then forced himself on her while
she was not in a position to defend herself. She wanted him to feel some of the
pain of betrayal she felt. She wanted him to know what it was to want something
that you couldn’t have.

Oh my God! With fearful clarity she suddenly realized that
it was she, Whitney Lane, famous romance author and world-class horse’s ass, who
was pining away for something, or rather someone, that she couldn’t have. The
enormity of the situation was crushing and as she tried to come to terms with
the truth confronting her, she was no longer aware that she was being held
naked in the lap of the man she had just realized she loved.