Hooper, Kay - [Hagen 09] (17 page)

His mouth moved from one breast to the other, hungry,
the touch maddening her until her nails bit into his shoulders and
she writhed with a moan. Tension built Inside her, winding tighter
and tighter, and her body belonged to someone else, not to her,
because she couldn't control it.

"Dane ..." she managed shakily in a voice that
almost wasn't there, certain that she was dying because feelings
this intense could only demand death as their price. But she was
unable to say more than his name, only a wild cry torn from her
throat as the tension snapped violently and waves of mind-numbing
pleasure swept over her.

In the stunned aftermath of that explosion, she lay
limply trying to catch her breath, aware of his movement as he
stripped the remainder of his clothing off and tossed it aside. Then
his mouth and hands were on her once more, breathing on the embers of
her passion until she was burning again, pulsing anew with a need
that was even deeper and stronger than before.

The unfamiliar response of her body had blinded her
before, but now she could sense and feel Dane's desire, and that
awareness sent her own hunger soaring. His big, powerful body was
shaking, his skin so hot it was as if a mortal fever raged inside
him. And his eyes, his beautiful eyes, were luminous and fierce,
intent on her face, her body.

Jennifer almost sobbed aloud when he finally rose above
her, and she cradled his body eagerly, the smooth slide of his hard
hips against her inner thighs a new and welcome caress. She felt a
blunt pressure against her wet flesh, and then her body was yielding,
accepting him with an ease that almost shocked her; it was as if
she had been waiting for him, for this. The emptiness inside her
was filling with him, with the heat and throbbing power of him, and
she arched up instinctively to have more of him, all of him.

An inarticulate groan rasped from Dane's throat, and his
face tightened in a spasm of intense pleasure. "Lord, Jenny,"
he whispered roughly, his hands tangling in her hair as he bore her
back down into the quilt and rug, kissing her deeply.

She probed his shoulders and back compulsively, her
mouth wild under his as he began moving inside her. What she had felt
before was nothing compared to this, and she was totally unprepared
for the shattering sensations of joining that were so starkly
intimate she could only accept them with wonder and a madly
escalating excitement.

Heat built inside her with every powerful thrust of his
body, until she couldn't stand it any longer. He caught her wordless
cry with his mouth, his ragged groan mingling with her softer
whimper, burying himself within her as pleasure jolted through
them both like shock waves.

* * *

He was a big man, and heavy, but Jennifer was conscious
of no discomfort as her heart slowed, her breathing steadied. She
slid her palms up over his back and shoulders, loving the feel of his
damp bronze skin, the hard muscles that were relaxed now. His fingers
were still threaded through her hair, moving caressingly against her
scalp, and she wanted to arch her back like a cat in the warm, sleepy
aftermath of pleasure.

Dane eased up onto his elbows and kissed her, a long,
slow, deep kiss that seemed to brand her indelibly, and when he
lifted his head again, his eyes were brilliant. "I love you.
Jenny," he murmured, the words rumbling from deep inside him.

"I love you too," she told him huskily.

"You'd better." His mouth was curved in a
smile that was faintly humorous and heart-stoppingly male. "You
couldn't keep me away from you now with a loaded gun."

Jennifer, usually prickly where her independence was
concerned, found herself thoroughly enjoying his possessiveness.
Smiling unconsciously, she said, "Are you going to be a jealous
lover?"

"Smile like that at another man and I will be."
He laughed softly, a sound edged with a kind of surprise. "I
can't seem to control my instincts where you're concerned."

"What Instincts are those?" she asked
innocently.

"The ones born in the cave." His fingers
tightened in her hair, lifting her head up for another of those deep,
drugging kisses. In a rough voice, he muttered against her lips, "How
can a woman so delicate and ladylike as you are make me feel like
some half-tamed animal?"

"I don't know, but I love it." Her eyes
gleamed up at him, the darkened sheen of them catching and
reflecting the firelight. One of her hands glided up his spine,
making the muscles of his back ripple in a strong response, and her
smile widened as he caught his breath. "A lion in summer,"
she murmured throatily, "black-maned and beautiful. That's what
you are, Dane. A cat . . . and a king." Her eyes began to close
as she felt the stirring renewal of need, and her body instinctively
held him more tightly.

Dane caught his breath again, his entire body reacting
wildly to that hot inner caress, moving against her and inside her
with a compulsion he wasn't about to fight. Only the sharp edge of
his need for her had been blunted, and he lost himself now in the
silken heat of her body.

* * *

They were both reluctant to return to other demands on
them, but the storm outside died at last, like the fire in the
hearth, and it was time for them to leave.

"It'll be dark within an hour," Jennifer said,
standing in the open doorway, fully dressed. "Won't your
partner be worried about you?"

Dane came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her,
resting his chin on the top of her head. "No," he replied.
"He'll know I'm not in trouble."

"How?" she asked curiously.

He hesitated, then said, "We were both out there at
Kelly's shack. Skye followed Kelly back to the house."

She accepted the explanation, then said, "It'll be
over tonight? You're sure of that?"

"Yes."

"Why do you have to play against him now? Since you
know where the press is, I mean."

"It'll be easier to make a case against him if he
tries to pass some of that phony money," Dane said lightly. He
hugged her tightly, then sighed and released her. "We'd better
go while there's still enough light to see the snakes and
alligators," he told her wryly.

Jennifer hated leaving, but she couldn't argue with what
he had said; the swamp could be a dangerous place, especially in the
dark. So they tidied Narna's small home and set out to circumvent the
swamp in order to return to the main grounds of Belle Retour. It took
nearly an hour to make their way to where Dane had left the Ferrari
hidden on the track near the lane, and by then it was dark.

Dane had to return to his hotel to change before meeting
Kelly, so he drove Jennifer to her house. He quite literally didn't
have the time to linger, but made one very expressive comment as she
was getting out of the car after the most passionate leave-taking
they could manage under the circumstances.

"Sports cars," he grumbled.

Jennifer had to laugh, even though she felt annoyed
herself at those damned bucket seats and the gear box between.

"I'll be back in the morning," he told her.

She nodded. "I'll be here."

After the car was out of sight, she wandered into the
house, and found her mother standing, hands on her hips, just Inside
the door. "Well?" Francesca demanded.

Jennifer, very conscious of wrinkled clothing and what
she suspected was a permanent smile on her face, blinked and tried to
look innocent. "Well, what?"

"When is this man going to marry you?" her
mother asked in a fine show of maternal niceties.

"Well, since he hasn't asked me – "

"I will speak to him," Francesca decided.

"You will not," Jennifer told her fiercely.
"And stop calling him this man. His name is Dane, and I love
him." In a defiant tone, she added, "And if he doesn't want
to marry me, I'll still love him, and I'll live with him wherever he
wants!"

Tempestuously, Francesca threw her arms around her
daughter and hugged her, laughing aloud. "Ah, you do love him!
Will he take care of you, my baby?"

"Yes," Jennifer answered without a shadow of
doubt. "He makes me happy. Mother."

Francesca looked at her intently. "And his
gambling? That no longer disturbs you?"

Jennifer smiled slowly. "I love a man who happens
to be very good at playing a game. So good, in fact, that he's become
a professional. I'm not afraid of that anymore."

Her mother pursed her lips unconsciously. She studied
Jennifer with an appraising eye and then, decisively, said, "You
will have beautiful babies together, I think."

Remembering the passionate interlude in Nama's shack,
Jennifer felt herself flush a little. "No doubt," she
murmured.

"I will be a grandmother." Francesca turned
this new idea over. half winced, then shrugged away what was
obviously a disconcerting realization. "I shall learn to knit,"
she said in a brave tone.

Jennifer giggled despite herself.

Francesca eyed her sternly. "Grandmothers do that,"
she explained quite unnecessarily.

"You aren't a grandmother yet," Jennifer
reminded her. "And stop building families, will you please? Dane
might well have a thing or two to say about his future, you know."

"He loves children," Francesca said
complacently.

"How do you know?"

"He told me."

Jennifer thought about that, remembering Dane's brief
visit with her mother days before. Her eyes narrowed
suspiciously. "After you innocently asked him, I suppose?"

"A mother must know these things, my baby."
Francesca was unrepentant.

Half closing her eyes, Jennifer sighed. "It's a
wonder he didn't kick up dust getting out of here," she
murmured. "Dane is a brave man. Mother. A very brave man."

"Of course. A man in love is always brave."
But Francesca's voice was absent. Clearly, her volatile mind was
angling toward another subject. "Our Belle, Jennifer. Will we
get our Belle back again?"

Jennifer hesitated, then said, "Kelly will go to
jail, thanks to Dane. But I don't know about Belle, Mother."

Characteristically, Francesca didn't request an
explanation. "He should be shot, that Kelly," she said
roundly.

Jennifer went suddenly still, remembering something. A
promise. Dane had made her a promise. Slowly, she said, "One
last game."

"What, my baby?"

"Nothing." Jennifer was unwilling to raise
false hopes. But her heart was beating fast, and she wondered.

"I'll hold the I.O.U. until after the game, if you
like," Dane offered easily. "We can settle up then."

An almost imperceptible tension eased from Garrett
Kelly's expression. "Fine. And I hope you brought plenty of
money. I mean to take it tonight."

"You can certainly try," Dane told him, his
tone still light. "And you wouldn't be the first to do it."

They were back in the parlor, sitting on either side of
the green baize game table. As they were alone this time, it was one
against one, skill against skill. On the mantel, the clock ticked
steadily; otherwise, the house was silent.

The game began quietly, reasonable bets made in an
almost casual manner. But beneath the surface, Kelly was taut. And
Dane was aware that he himself was too tired for this, not at his
best. Still, he was determined to get Jennifer's home back for her,
and he understood the legal system too well to believe there was a
better way than this.

The danger was that this way presented more than its
share of drawbacks. After twenty years, Dane understood the game
too well to discount sheer, blind luck as a factor, and that could
work to Kelly's benefit as easily as to his own. But he had already
made up his mind to win fairly – if Kelly played fairly.

And, as the hours passed, it became obvious to Dane that
his opponent was not cheating.

Dane played with no change in his serene expression,
losing some hands, winning most. He watched the money come and go on
the table, Kelly's phony bills mixing with his own legal ones. And,
Just as the night before, he was waiting for Kelly to become a little
too intense, a little too willing to believe in his own luck. It was
a common gambler's fever, that state – and exactly what had
happened to Jennifer's father.

Inevitably, it was happening to Kelly tonight.

The game went on, and Dane casually accepted more of
Kelly's I.O.U.s, making certain that the other man won back the
scraps of paper each time he was driven to scrawl another one, even
if Dane had to fold with a winning hand to do it. He expected Kelly
to begin using the promises of payment as actual money, staking them
over and over just as he would cash, and that was exactly what Kelly
did. But whenever Dane took a pot containing a scrap of paper with
the other man's promise scrawled on it, he set it casually to
one side and didn't bet with it himself.

"Call. Raise two thousand."

"Your two. And two more."

"Call."

"Four queens."

"Damn."

With the sure skill of a hunter, Dane made certain that
Kelly was never completely out of the game, that he never abandoned
hope of coming out ahead. Concentrating intently, and having
gained an insight into the mannerisms of the other man after several
nights of play, Dane unerringly knew when Kelly was holding a strong
hand, or when he was bluffing, and he used that knowledge carefully.

The scraps of paper at his elbow increased, apparently
unnoticed by Kelly. Like many gamblers, the intensity of the
play blinded him to his own growing debts, and as long as he had
money to bet with, he was convinced his luck would turn in the end.

Dane, on the other hand, knew exactly how much Kelly
owed him, and kept a running total in his head as the amount grew.
But none of that showed on his tranquil face. For the first time,
Dane was playing for personal stakes, and the outcome was too
important for him to take any chances. His weariness was held at bay
with an iron will, his concentration focused with all the mastery of
twenty years of practice. And, most Importantly, he used his ability
to almost literally detach his mind from his body. The muscular
twinges of protest from a body held still for too long never touched
his mind and, so, never betrayed him.