Home to Eden (27 page)

Kate's legs parted for him, her hand reaching to guide him to her. Nick fisted one hand in her hair, tilting her head and lowering his mouth to hers, even as his body surged into her welcoming heat. He tasted her pleasure, felt it in the way her body arched to take him deeper, not just accepting his possession but demanding it.

In the months since he'd last held her like this, he'd tried to convince himself that it hadn't been as extraordinary as he remembered. It was just sex, after all. He'd lied. Sweet Jesus, how he'd lied. Nothing had ever been like this.

It was too intense to last long. They strained together, their bodies moving toward a shared goal. The room was full of the harsh sound of their breathing, the rhythmic thud of the headboard against the wall and the earthy scent of sweat and sex.

When it came, the peak was hard and fast as the climb toward it had been. Kate sobbed with the force of it, her fingers clinging to Nick's shoulders as the only solid thing in a world that spun madly around her. The feel of her completion called up his, and Nick thrust deep into her welcoming heat, a ragged groan tearing from his chest as pleasure washed over him.

It was a long time before either of them moved, and then it took every bit of Nick's strength to ease himself onto the bed next to Kate. She made a soft sound of protest but it ended on a sigh of pleasure when he slid his arm under her shoulders and pulled her against him. She cuddled into the hard warmth of his body, her head on his shoulder, one hand nestled in the soft mat of hair on his chest.

Nick thought vaguely that there were probably all kinds of profound things that needed to be said right about now but he couldn't think of what they might be. He ran his hand up her back and felt a shiver of awareness run through her. As if it was a signal, he felt hunger stir in his gut. A moment before, he'd felt drained, sated. But the need was still there, a warm pulsing in his veins. He shifted his hand, sliding it up her side until his palm rested against the soft globe of her breast. He felt her nipple harden against his side, heard her breath catch and knew it hadn't been enough for her, either.

With a muttered curse, he came up on his elbow, pressing her flat on her back as he leaned over her, staring into her eyes.

"Two things," he said as his hand closed over her breast.

"Two?'' she repeated unsteadily.

"No more separate beds.'' He bent to trail soft kisses along the line of her collarbone while his thumb stroked the sensitive peak of her breast.

''O—okay." Kate gasped as his tongue flicked across her other nipple, rousing it to instant attention. "What's the other thing?"

"This time, we make it last all night," he said and closed his mouth over her breast.

She moaned, her fingers curling into the silky dark thickness of his hair, pressing him closer. Against her thigh, she could feel him growing hard again. Her last coherent thought was that he was probably going to have to settle for one out of two.

❧

Sharing a room was only the most tangible change in Kate's life after that night. The other changes were more subtle, yet in an odd way even more profound. Suddenly her marriage was real, no longer words on a piece of paper she could barely remember signing.

It wasn't possible anymore to think of Nick as her roommate. He was her husband, in every sense of the word.

She'd always considered herself one of the least impulsive people she knew, especially when it came to making major life changes. Yet, in the past few months, her life seemed to have been ruled by impulse—sleeping with Nick, marrying him and now making their marriage real. There were moments when she thought that perhaps she should be very worried about her uncharacteristic behavior but she couldn't seem to whip up any real concern.

Nick was not only a passionate lover, he was fun. She laughed more with him than she ever had in her life. He had a deep appreciation for the absurd, wherever he happened to find it.

She came home from work one afternoon and found him sprawled on the sofa, his attention riveted on the soap opera playing on the television. Kate stared in disbelief, but when he looked up, he showed no trace of embarrassment.

"You wouldn't believe what these people are up to," he said, as if continuing a conversation they'd been having.

"You watch soap operas?"

"How else does anyone learn about life?" He gave her a surprised look. "Where else can you find out how to behave when you find out that your fiance is possessed by the devil and has been stalking your sister, who's also his sister because his father was once married to your mother only they're divorced now and your father is married to your other sister who's not related to him by blood because she's a product of your mother's first marriage? Only the truth is that she's really your mother's sister, which no one knows yet."

"Your mother thinks her sister is her daughter?" Kate asked, coming farther into the room and staring, fascinated, at the screen.

"Not my mother but Caitlin's mother."

"Isn't that a little far-fetched?"

"Not at all." He moved over to make room for her on the sofa and she sat down absently. "It makes perfect sense. You see, Caitlin's mother, whose name is Susan, was drugged by her father—"

"Caitlin's father?"

"No, Susan's father drugged her and hired a hypnotist to implant false memories of pregnancy and childbirth so when she came out of hypnosis she thought she'd had a baby."

"Did he have a reason for doing this or was it just a slow day?"

"The baby was actually his illegitimate child, fathered on a Gypsy fortune-teller who died in childbirth."

Kate dragged her eyes from the screen and stared at him. "You're making this up, aren't you?"

"Are you kidding? If I had enough imagination to make something like that up, I'd be writing screenplays and getting rich."

"How long have you been watching this show?"

"A couple of weeks. I leave it on in the background while I'm working."

"You found out all of that stuff about these characters in two weeks?" she asked, incredulous.

"No. Turns out that Laura's mother has been watching it for years. She came over to borrow something and recognized the theme music so she filled me in on the juicy details." He suddenly pointed to the screen where an actor with improbably perfect features and thick white hair was sitting at a desk looking thoughtful. "See that guy?"

"Don't tell me—he's married to his own mother but thinks she's actually his long-lost love who ran off to join the circus when she was a child."

Nick turned his head slowly and gave her a surprised look. "How did you know?"

Nick hadn't realized just how much he needed to have Kate sharing his bed until it happened. It wasn't just the sex, though that was certainly incredible. But even more than that, he'd needed to be able to touch her, hold her, feel the changes his child had made to her body.

He'd never felt this primal need to hold, to possess a woman before, and the strength of it made him uneasy. With Lisa, he'd wanted to care for her, to protect her. He wanted to protect Kate but he also wanted to know that she was his.

Not that sex had magically vanquished all the barriers between them, but it was a step in the right direction. Maybe she'd been as frustrated by their marriage in name only as he had, because she seemed to relax with him, let him inside at least some of the walls she'd thrown up for her own protection. She smiled more easily, laughed more often.

"What are these doing in here?"

Nick had been shaving. At Kate's question, he glanced over to see her holding up a box of Band-Aids. He arched one brow in surprise.

"Did you catch them doing something illicit?"

"No. But I don't understand what they're doing here." She sounded genuinely puzzled.

Nick frowned at her. "Why shouldn't they be there?"

"It just seems kind of odd, that's all." She glanced at him and he thought he saw laughter in her eyes but she looked away too quickly for him to be sure.

"What's odd about it?" he asked, confused. He picked up a washcloth and wiped the last of the shaving cream from his jaw. "It seems fairly normal to keep first-aid supplies in the bathroom."

"Yes, but for you?" She lifted one shoulder. "I figured that, if you cut yourself, you'd—you know— wave a magic wand and the cut would just go away."

She looked at him again, and there was no mistaking the mischief in her eyes.

Nick stared at her, his mind blank with shock. My God, she was teasing him about his ability to heal! Since the day he'd discovered his gift, he couldn't remember anyone ever referring to it in normal conversation, let alone joking about it. His family had always treated it as a secret—not something to be ashamed of but certainly not something to joke about.

When he didn't say anything, Kate's smile faded and her fingers tightened over the metal box. What an idiot! She couldn't believe she'd mentioned his gift, especially when she knew it was a source of conflict for him. It had been an impulse—a bad one, obviously.

"Nick, I didn't..I! wasn't think—"

His shout of laughter cut her apology off in midword. It was probably more laughter than the fairly mild joke deserved, but it was the first time he'd ever laughed about his ability to heal. It felt wonderful. If he'd known how good it would feel, he'd have laughed about it years ago.

"Thank you." He hooked his hand around the back of her neck and dragged her close so that he could kiss her thoroughly.

"You're welcome," Kate said when he released her. "What did I do?"

"You made me laugh."

Kate started to say something but the chime of the doorbell interrupted them. "Oh, no! That must be Brenda." She hurried into the bedroom, grabbed a hairbrush off the dresser and began dragging it through her hair. "I told her I was taking the truck in for a tune-up and she said she'd pick me up today."

"You two doing okay?" Nick asked, following at a more leisurely pace.

Kate's hand faltered for a moment. When her engagement to Gareth had come to such an untidy ending, her friendship with Brenda had been an unexpected casualty. Brenda had had a hard time understanding how Kate could so completely betray Gareth. There was still a slight distance between them but she thought they were getting past it. Nick knew about the rift and knew how much it bothered her.

"I think we're going to be okay," she told him and hoped she wasn't wrong. She picked up one shoe and looked around for the other one. "Could you get the door and tell her I'll be there in a minute?"

"Sure." Nick left the room and she heard him running down the stairs.

The missing shoe was halfway under the bed. She put it on, grabbed a scarf to tie her hair and hurried from the bedroom. A glance at her watch confirmed that Brenda was early—a practically unheard of event.

She'd expected Brenda to be in the entry way, or in the kitchen watching Nick make coffee. But the entryway was empty. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Nick came out of the living room.

"It isn't Brenda," he said. Something in his expression made her uneasy, and she hesitated on the last stair.

"Who is it?"

"He says he's your father."

Kate felt the bottom drop out of her stomach and her fingers clenched over the wooden banister. She looked past Nick to the man who'd come to stand behind him. He was nearly as tall as Nick, though his shoulders weren't as broad. His hair was dark, his features even, his eyes a dark gray-blue. He looked familiar and yet totally alien standing here in this house that she'd come to think of as her home.

"Hello, Katie." He smiled, delighted to see her.

"Dad." The acting skills she'd developed in a lifetime of pretending weren't enough to put any warmth in her voice. She saw Nick's eyes sharpen with question as she left the illusory safety of the stairs and went to greet the father she'd hoped never to see again.