Don’t Call Me Sweetheart (18 page)

Love. The one emotion that she had thought she would forever
understand and express to others through her writings but never experience
herself. But she did love Christian. She had from that first moment when she
had looked up into his intense eyes and known that he was the man she had
created in her imagination all those years ago as a silly teenager. He was
everything she wanted…except he didn’t love her. He wanted her and he wanted
what she had, just as all the others had but he didn’t love her. By admitting
her feelings for him Whitney could understand the mixed-up emotions that had
played havoc with her for the past months. And it was all his fault. It wasn’t
enough that he had twisted her arm and made her marry him. Now he had managed
to wrest away her heart and soul as well. He had taken it all, her dignity, her
innocence and now the very core of her being. She couldn’t let him see that. He
would use see her feelings as a weakness to be exploited to his gain, not the
cherished gift a woman gives to but one man in her life.

“Do you love him, Whitney?” The question was repeated, more
forcefully this time and Christian caught her chin with his strong fingers,
turning her head to face him so that he could read the expression in her eyes
as she answered.

“Yes! Yes, damn it, I love him! I’ve always loved him but
you didn’t give me a chance to tell you that, did you? No, you just waltzed in
here and crawled immediately into my bed, making me do things that I never wanted
to do, then schemed to use my behavior to get what you wanted! Well, you
certainly got everything you planned to, didn’t you? You have the house back. You
married all the money you’ll ever need. Don’t look so surprised, I know you did
your homework on me and that you knew the moment you hatched this little plan
that you’d tapped the mother lode! And now you’ve even managed to take what was
only mine to give. I was saving myself for my husband. Remember? My real
husband, not some lying, manipulative son of a bitch who has to coerce a woman
into bed, or should I say hot tub! You’re horrid and vile! You repulse me and I
never want to see you again!”

Whitney shoved so hard at Christian this time that she
succeeded in gaining her release. With as much dignity as possible she rose
from the water and stepped to the nearby bench where she had laid her robe,
trying not to focus on the eyes that followed her every move. She had managed
to pick the garment up but had yet to slip her arms into the sleeves when she
heard him.

“You have it all wrong, Whitney.” The deliberately calm
words were deceptively unnerving. A splash behind her caused Whitney to whirl
defensively, clutching the robe in front of her to shield her nakedness. Her
eyes locked on Christian’s body as he too, rose from the sunken tub, water
streaming down his magnificent frame. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him.
It was the first time she had actually seen his splendid body. God, he was
beautiful! Her own traitorous libido responded immediately to the sight of the
ruggedly handsome man pulling himself unashamedly up from the waters. Against
her will, her eyes caressed his broad, bulging shoulders, the narrow waist that
tapered to strong, muscular thighs. And there, where his thighs met, the hard shaft
of his manhood rose in response to her own nakedness. Lord help her, she wanted
him again. As much as she wanted to escape him forever, she wanted to feel him
against her again, feel him move within her, take the pleasure he was so
capable of giving to her.

“I don’t,” she answered tremulously, backing away as far as
she could go. Her bare bottom touched the cold glass of the window behind her
and her face burned with shame knowing that should anyone be outside they would
certainly be getting quite an eyeful right about now. But no one would be
there, they were in the middle of a blizzard for heaven’s sake and right now
she had more serious problems to worry about. Namely how to cool her own raging
desires and escape with what remained of her pride.

For his part, Christian was having no luck controlling his
own aroused appetite for the woman who had become his wife. Her lush, beautiful
body was calling to him to take her again, show her with action how he felt
about her. But how did he feel about her? He knew he wanted her, his body had
yearned for their coming together for months, never allowing him to be with
another woman as thoughts of Whitney’s creamy skin and burnished hair would
always intrude. But he needed more than that, wanted more than what they had. But
what? Settling down scared the hell out of him. Hadn’t he planned to seek an
annulment himself just so that he wouldn’t be burdened with the same woman the
rest of his life? He had wanted Whitney out of the way but now that she had
confessed to planning to do the same, he felt curiously defeated and empty. He
wanted nothing more than to take her again into his arms and show her that he
was capable of more than she accused him of. He wanted to erase all thoughts of
Stephan from her heart, brand her with his own love over and over until she
screamed out for him and only him.

His love? What that what he was feeling? It couldn’t be! He
was immune to such a weakness, he only wanted what was his and Whitney was just
that. His wife, not Stephan’s. Wanting to distance himself from any further
thoughts along those lines he pushed the water from his face so he was able to
more clearly see the glorious, naked Venus before him.

“There’s not going to be any annulment, Whitney,” Christian
told her in a husky, emotion-filled voice as he advanced toward her. Whitney
watched, frozen to the spot, as he came closer and closer. With just a few
steps he had bridged the distance between them and stopped before her, his
thick arms locking her into his wet embrace. He reached up to pull the robe
from her numb fingers, letting it crumple into a heap on the floor. With that
done and nothing to separate their flushed bodies, he told her, “You may as
well know that I won’t allow anything, or anyone, to come between us from this
day on, Whitney. You’re mine now and forever. I didn’t plan it this way. I didn’t
want a wife, or responsibilities. But I won’t let you go now that we’re joined.”

“You can’t stop me!” Whitney found her voice and bravado, at
last. Her small hands pushed ineffectively against the granite hardness of his
chest, slipping through the damp curls. “There’s nothing between us but your
lust and greed! I don’t want you near me!”

Ignoring the sharp barbs Christian instead trailed his hands
up and down her upper arms, laughing as the soft caress was immediately
reflected by the erection of her rose-colored nipples. “I see some parts of
your body haven’t yet been appraised of these adamant feelings you profess to
have toward me!”

Whitney’s face burned with humiliation and she started to
tell him just where he could go but as she tilted her face upward to do so he
seized the opportunity and brought his lips crushing down on hers, drowning her
with deep, penetrating kisses that made her knees buckle before the destructive
barrage on her senses. Christian scooped her up into his arms effortlessly,
never once breaking the hungry assault on her lips and carried her back into
the house.

Once there he raised his head, raw, carnal desire branding
her as his eyes traveled the length of her as she lay within his arms. Whitney’s
protests had evaporated at the first touch of his lips against her own, just as
she had feared they would and she was powerless to stop the flow of desire that
coursed through her now in answer to his. This time she wasn’t asleep, or
dreaming. This time she would have to look herself in the mirror the next day
and know that she could have tried to stop him from making love to her but she
hadn’t wanted him to. She was past wanting him to stop, past caring about
anything other than finding the pleasurable release only he could bring her.

Seeing his own raging passion reflected in Whitney’s
brilliant green eyes, Christian wasted no time carrying her up the stairs and
into her bedroom, the same room he had been banished from just a few short days
before. It didn’t matter. He had made her forget that she hated him, set her on
fire with a need that only together they could quench.

As he stretched out above her, his own fevered flesh pressed
tightly against hers, he forgot all the promises he had made to himself about
not letting one woman become too important to him. He wanted to give Whitney
such pleasure that she would forever forget about Stephan, or any other man and
have eyes for only her husband.

He lavished fiery kisses along the white column of her slim
neck, stopping to suck gently at the sensitive area directly below her ear and
raising a tiny love mark there before continuing his campaign to conquer her
body and soul by dipping his lips to the smooth hollow at the base of her neck
where he could feel her wildly beating pulse as he nuzzled the spot. Her hands
entangling themselves in his thick, black hair encouraged him to leave that bit
of succulent flesh and concentrate instead on her swelling breasts, which he
eagerly did. From one crested peak to the other, he repeatedly sucked and
licked, kneaded and teased each hard, dusky nub until Whitney rolled back and
forth with want, begging him to end the sweet agony burning her alive. Determined
that she would never forget this night, he pushed her breasts together with the
heels of his palms, laving both nipples at the same time and Whitney lost
control.

“Christian, oh God! Please, I need you. Now!”

“Not yet, love,” Christian whispered into the soft flesh of
her silken belly as he showered it with burning kisses. Whitney was mindless
with desperate desire, blindly begging him to put an end to the pleasurable
torture. Her hips surged upward in a silent plea for him to enter her and he
did but not as she expected. The unfamiliar sensation of Christian’s warm, wet
tongue invading the soft flesh between her legs caused Whitney to erupt with
throbbing spasms of delight immediately, putting an end, at least temporarily,
to the yearning ache she suffered. For a few seconds, the succulent sensations
were able to carry her past herself, past Christian, to a place where she could
feel loved. Feel whole.

Before she could recover Christian hooked his arms beneath
her knees, preparing her for his entry. He did so swiftly, plunging into her
with a fierceness that made Whitney cling wildly to him, calling out his name
as he drove himself into her yielding body repeatedly. She tunneled her fingers
through his hair, matching perfectly each spearing thrust, feeling the
cataclysmic spiral of intense tension begin to build once again deep within
her. Christian’s breathing was ragged against her ear, as he sought to give her
more pleasure than she could endure. When he slipped a hand between them and
rubbed her nub Whitney gave in to the pleasure, her body clasped tightly around
his as the wild convulsions overtook her. In the next instant, Christian cried
out as his body was racked with violent tremors and he collapsed, shuddering
atop her.

Whitney lay cocooned in the warm, splendorous afterglow of
their lovemaking. It had been the experience she had always dreamed it would be
and more. The fact that her lover was a man she simultaneously loved and
disliked was of little importance at the moment. There would be plenty of time
to sort out her warring emotions later. For now, she wanted to bask in the
wondrous feelings she had discovered her body was capable of. She felt no
guilt, no remorse. That would come later. It was enough to know that for this
moment in time she had become one with the man who unknowingly held her heart
in his hands. Sadly, she thought, it might be the only time. There was more to
a relationship other than appeasing long-suppressed lusts. At least, she needed
much more, so much more.

Christian rolled over, pulling Whitney with him to lie
cradled against his shoulder, her cheek resting on his chest where she could
hear the hammering of his heart. She wished it beat with the same love she
felt, then in the next moment changed her mind. She wouldn’t wish the hell she
found herself in on anyone, not even Christian. Unrequited love was the
cruelest form of torture. It never went away, it would overshadow all future
chances at happiness and eventually it would encase a victim’s heart in layers
of emotional chains from which there would be no escape.

Lying next to Christian, listening to his breathing return
to a steady, slow cadence Whitney wondered if that would be her fate. She had
fallen in love with her husband, knowing that he had not married her out of
love and would probably never return hers. No man ever had, except Stephan and
that was only because he didn’t know the real Whitney Lane. Once it was
discovered that she had more to offer than herself, no one had been able to see
past their greed and reach out to the real Whitney. Christian was no different.
He wanted what she alone could give him, or so he thought. He wanted his inn
back and, of course, he had wanted sex tonight. She imagined that he probably
wanted it every night. Well, now he had gotten both. And thanks to her
inability to deny him once he laid a hand on her, he was probably thinking how
convenient it would be not to have to recruit someone else to take his wife’s
place in his bed. God, why did she have to be so weak when it came to him?

“Whitney,” her name was a soft whisper against her hair, “I’ve
been such a fool.”

What was he talking about, Whitney wondered.

“I thought I would only find happiness with many women,
never with the same one. I was wrong. You’re all I could ever possibly want.”

Want. Not love, just want. Whitney’s fears were confirmed at
the stark word he had chosen to describe his feelings for her. She had always
been wanted, never loved. She had been right to include him with the others
from her past.

“I…” Whitney started to answer him but was stopped by his
finger pressed against her lips, silencing the words ready to spill forth.