Heart Of Gold (22 page)

Wrapping
the towel around herself tightly, she emerged from the cabin, trying to look
calm and composed.

Nick's
sensuous smile greeted her. He'd taken off the sunglasses, and she watched his
eyes go over her legs and linger on her thighs. “You want to swim first or
have lunch?”

“Lunch.”

“Picnic
it is. Can you just reach down into that hold and grab the hamper? I didn't
have time to put all the food in the fridge.”

“Sure.
No problem.”

But the
reality of bending over, picking up the basket and keeping herself covered
proved to be more than she could handle. Gravity won over coordination and the
towel slid down to the deck.

She heard
Nick hiss through his teeth.

When she
looked up at him, he was staring at her with a look that took her breath away.
In response, her breasts strained the bounds of the bikini, pulling against the
fragile strings. As her nipples peaked, his face tightened with need.

“You
are ., .” He didn't finish, just whispered, ”Come here."

He held
his hand out to her and, before she could think about what she was doing, she
took it. As he drew her toward him, she felt his other hand slowly slide around
her waist and settle onto the small of her back. His skin was warm on hers and
her breasts brushed up against the faint hair on his chest.

“I've
been imaging what it would feel like to have you naked, in my arms.” His
voice was very deep.

Carter
felt his hands drift lower until they were on her hips. They gripped her body
urgently, and he pulled her all the way against him. When she felt the rigid
length of him, her mouth opened with a gasp.

That was
when he kissed her.

The
contact was shockingly soft. Even though she could sense the urgency in his
body, his lips were gentle against hers. Persuasive, cajoling, light. Teasing
her with a patience that spoke to the depth of his self-control. She could feel
herself relaxing, giving herself up to the sensation of his tongue in her
mouth, sliding wet and warm inside of her, wrapping around her own.

Caught in
the maelstrom, she forgot about everything.

When his
fingers sought out the hard tips of her breasts, his touch as gentle as the
sunlight that was warming them, she moaned into his mouth. Electrical shocks
surged through her and she gripped hard onto his shoulders.

“Carter,”
he said against her mouth, roughly. “Will you let me make love to
you?”

She knew
the choice was up to her. He was giving her the power of their future.

Carter
met his glittering eyes. They were nothing like the lucid ones he usually
looked out onto the world with. Now, they reflected a storm raging inside of
him, an incandescent, swirling need that she knew she was responsible for
igniting.

She took
a step back from him and his face contracted in pain. But she wasn't turning
away. Slowly, she reached behind and freed the strings of the bikini top,
letting it fall to the deck. She watched as a shudder went through him,
wracking his body. When she put her hand on his bare chest, he let out a groan.

This time
when he kissed her, there was nothing soft about it. Desperation sent them
careening into the cabin where he pressed her down onto one of the bunks and
covered her with the weight of his body. As he removed the bottom to the bikini
and his own trunks, her hands traveled the broad expanse of his back, feeling
his muscles under smooth skin.

When he
settled in between her thighs, she knew an erotic sensation so powerful that
she felt as if she had left her body behind. She arched her back and his head
came down to her. He kissed the skin of her neck, trailing small bites downward
until he took the tip of a breast into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue.

Crying
out, she thrust her hips into his, feeling him come up against her very core.
But he didn't enter her, not yet. His hands and his mouth explored her body,
learning the most intimate parts of her. Only when she could take no more did
he come up over her and capture her lips in a kiss that was reverent. Slowly,
he slid inside of her.

As he
entered her, Carter moaned deeply. They began to move together, a rhythm that
quickly grew to a frantic dance of sensuality. As they rose higher and higher,
she was breathing heavily, hanging on to his surging body, her heart racing and
her hips absorbing his thrusts, until she was bathed in white heat. His name
left her lips, sailing up into the air, a hoarse cry, and she felt his powerful
body shudder into her, his arms contracting around her.

After the
tempest, Carter felt his head drop onto her shoulder, his breath coming in
gasps. The sweat that covered his forehead was a delicious wetness against her
skin. When he finally lifted his head, she was shocked by his expression. Gone
were any traces of cynicism and hardness. It was a stunning transformation. He
looked younger. Happy. Satisfied.

She
smiled at him.

And the
expression that came back at her was of such tenderness, she felt her heart
ache.

He
stroked away a lock of hair that had gotten tangled around her neck, and it
seemed as if he was on the verge of a revelation. But instead of giving her
words, he kissed her.

And the
heat rose again.

* * *

After a
fortifying lunch, they settled down on the deck in the sun. Nick positioned
himself against the mast and Carter put her head in his lap, promptly falling
asleep while he watched over her.

Underneath
the scant triangles of the bikini, her chest rose and fell with her delicate,
even breaths. She looked vulnerable as she slept in his arms, and a strange
feeling came over him. It was so powerful that he could decipher neither its
cause nor its content, and his first thought was to run from whatever it was.

Except,
as he looked down into her face, he didn't want to leave. Slowly, he tried to
figure out what was bothering him.

After
they'd made love that first time, and he'd fallen against her, utterly spent,
he'd recognized that something dramatic had taken place. Something unparalleled
in his life, something that had stripped him bare, exposed him in a way he'd
never been before to anyone. And he'd wanted to tell her what he was feeling.

When he'd
tried to marshal words, however, they'd refused to form cogent lines. His
thoughts had splintered and fragmented in his mind until they didn't make
sense, even to himself. That was when he'd kissed her again and tried to show
her with his hands and mouth what he couldn't tell her.

But
something had changed. As she lay sleeping, he now felt only panic. An urgent
need to retreat from her and the closeness she represented.

Dimly,
Nick noticed the breeze had caught a tendril of her black hair, whisking it
over her nose. He carefully moved the errant strand away, not wanting her sleep
disturbed. In response, she stirred in his lap, curling over on her side and
tucking her arms around herself. The graceful curve of her cheek and her lips captured
and held his eyes. . Love.

The word
came to him like a ghost and, as it bounced around his brain, he thought of the
past. There had been so few women he'd felt love for, and his own mother wasn't
even one of them. When he considered it, he realized that Gertie and his sister
were the only possible exceptions to the emotional distance he kept from the
fairer sex. Both of them had loved him for who he was and had never looked for
anything more.

Which
sure as hell set them apart from most of the women he'd come across.

Would
such simplicity and acceptance be Carter's way?

Yes, an insistent voice
told him.

Except
even as the thought occurred to him, he rebelled against its implications.

He wasn't
ready to fall in love. Besides, he wasn't sure he knew how to love someone. He
hadn't been close to his parents. Hadn't done enough for his sister when she'd
been alive. And Cort? God knew that relationship was a complicated mess.

So what
the hell did he have to offer Carter?

The
answer that came back to him was painfully sparse. Almost every relationship
he'd ever had with a woman had been merely physical. Looking back on it, his
love life had been punctuated by scenes like the one he'd just been through
with Candace. A long string of good-byes that had been easy for him to
initiate.

He had
quite a run going, Nick thought with disdain.

But now
this beautiful, smart woman who he'd just made love to, this woman he suspected
he might be able to love, now she had come into his life and he felt at a loss.
Instead of being grateful for the gift, he seemed incapable of accepting what
she had to offer. He was a successful businessman, in his late thirties, who
had no clue how to handle a serious, adult relationship with a woman. With an
equal.

A wholly
unfamiliar chill went through him. It was followed by a surge of irrational
anger.

As if
she'd felt the shift in his emotions, Carter opened her eyes and looked up at
him.

In that
instant, Nick went into hiding. He shifted his cold mask into place and watched
from a distance as her expression lost its warmth and happiness.

“Where
have you gone while I was sleeping,” she said softly.

“I’m
right here.”

“No,
you're not.”

“So
your head's in someone else's lap?” His voice was sharp, close to
combative.

As Carter
sat up, he knew he'd ruined the afternoon. The sun was still washing over them,
the bay was beautiful, but her eyes were dark.

“What's
wrong?” Anxiety replaced the relaxation that had been on her face.

“Nothing.”

“You're
lying to me.”

“Don't
behave like a girlfriend. I don't do well with that kind of thing.” Nick
avoided her eyes, unable to stomach the dawning pain in them.

There was
a wealth of confusion in her voice. “How does my asking you what's wrong
equate to—”

“You
see? Now you want to talk about what's wrong with my telling you nothing is
wrong. These kind of conversations are pointless.”

“I
don't. . . understand.” She shook her head, her hair flashing black in the
sun. There was a telltale shine in her eyes that told him she was close to
tears.

Seeing
her hurt and knowing he'd caused it only made him more angry.

He lashed
out. “With Candace gone, I was looking forward to a respite from getting
poked and prodded by someone in a skirt. I guess the optimism was
premature.”

Carter
gasped. “I can't believe you just said that.”

Frankly,
neither could Nick.

“Talk
to me,” she implored.

“What
do you want me to say?”

There was
a long pause and then abruptly, Carter's expression changed from hurt to angry.
She shot to her feet. “We're going back. Right now. Before I do
something else I'll regret.”

“Else?”

“Sleeping
with you was clearly a mistake. I don't want to compound the
error by trying to drown you.” With a violent movement, she wrapped a
towel around herself.

“You
know, I never pictured you as the hysterical type.”

She turned
on him, emphasizing her words with clipped consonants. “This is not
hysterical. This is pissed off. There's a big difference.”

Nick
watched her march down into the cabin and then cursed in frustration. The words
that had come out of his mouth, the tone he'd used, everything about the fight
was familiar to him. It was what he had done countless times before. The
behavior felt oddly safe.

That was
when something occurred to him. He knew what was coming next. Following one of
these scenes, there was always relief. A sweet rush would course through his
blood as he realized he was untouched, unhampered. Free.

Desperately,
he waited for the salvation to come.

Minutes
passed.

He took a
deep breath, eager for the release.

It was
ten minutes later that Nick wrenched a hand through his hair. His chest was
still tight, his muscles rigid, his heart in a knot.

“Dammit,”
he said roughly, feeling cheated. He wasn't supposed to feel worse.

Then
again, Carter never had fit into his pattern.

Getting
up, he went over to the door she'd slammed shut. He was surprised at what he
was prepared to do. Was he actually going to try and apologize? Yes, he was.

Nick
hesitated. He wasn't sure what he was going to say. He only knew that he felt
far, far worse after pushing her away, not better.

When the
cabin door opened abruptly, he reached out for her.

“Carter,
I'm sorry.”

“Oh
no, you don't.” With an angry shove, she pushed him away. “Let me
teach you the difference between pissed off and hysterical. The whole contrite
thing works with hysterical. It doesn't do jack for someone who's pissed off.
So you can take your apologies and go practice them in the mirror. No doubt,
you'll need them for the next skirt who's dumb enough to fall into bed
with you.”

“Will
you let me explain?” There was a pleading tone in his voice that he'd
never heard before.

“There's
nothing to explain. I saw what happened to Candace.”

“You're
not like her.”

“That's
not true. I was surprised when you pushed me away, too.” She went to the
helm. “Now get the anchor out of the damn water and let's end this charade
right now.”

Nick
stared at her for a long time, and she looked him right in the eye, all
coldness and defiance.

“What
are you waiting for?” she demanded. “If you think I'm going to let
you walk all over me, you're out of your mind.”

“Look,
I'm not good at this—”

“Obviously.
But I don't give a rat's ass. I want to go home. Now.”

Their
eyes met.