Love Songs (10 page)

“Are you sure about that?” She scowled at him. “You’ve just had a taste of my ‘temper.’ When it really gets going it’s an awesome thing!”

He was still for long moments, weighing his alternatives. When his grip loosened she quickly tore her arm away and retreated to the window to stand with her back to him, her arms about herself.

“You know, Alanna, I somehow didn’t picture you as having a violent temper. When was the last time you lost it?”

He couldn’t have asked a more poignant question. She remembered the moment perfectly. “Roughly ten years ago.”

“That’s some self-control.”

“Not really. I just try to … minimize situations where I will be pushed that far.”

“Tell me about it.”

This time it was a request, and so gently offered that she was helpless to refuse. After long moments she began. “I had been dating this fellow—Shep Harding—through the last two years of college. We were very … close. When I decided to go on to graduate school—to get an M.B.A.—he put everything on the line.”

Alex’s voice came from directly behind her. “Career or him?”

“Exactly.”

“So you let him have it?” She heard the smile in his voice and it coaxed her on.

“You could say that. I told him that if it was a warm body he wanted he could pick up another one at the student union. If it was
me
he wanted he’d have to accept me for what I was. I had no desire to be at home all day, waiting for him. I wanted to be out
there
, doing things, using every bit of myself—”

She caught her breath as she realized how he might, if he wanted, interpret her words. As though reading her mind he spoke softly, putting his hands gently on her shoulders. This time she didn’t pull away. “I know exactly what you’re saying, Alanna. And, believe me, I have no doubts that you’ve earned everything you’ve gotten—earned it through work in the office, everything aboveboard.”

She cocked her head sideways. “How can you be sure? After all, many women today—”

“You’re not
many
women, as you were so quick to tell me more than once last night.” The light pressure he exerted was sufficient to turn her. She had to tilt her head back to study his face. Its intensity held her immobile, as his hands slid slowly along her arms. “There may be rumors, Alanna. But you have also built a reputation as being intelligent, on top of every situation, an able negotiator and an honest person. What you told me back there,” he cocked his dark head toward the door, “what you showed me in the process, suggests that if you
were
having an affair with Wallace—”

“Jake is married!” she interrupted angrily.

His fingers tightened. “I know that. Let me finish. If you were having an affair with Wallace you would never have been able to keep up that image of coolness in the office.” He suddenly grinned. “It seems, love, that you’re much more of an emotional creature than your very proper facade would lead one to believe.”

Alanna felt the beginnings of that melting sensation, the thawing of her chill beside the hearth of Alex’s warm persuasion. “I don’t deny being emotional,” she offered defensively, “even though I do keep emotions out of the office. I
do
deny ever having used my body to achieve advancement.”

“
Corporate
advancement,” he corrected softly.

“
Any
kind of advancement.”

A dark brow shot up at her insistence. “What
do
you use your body for? Wouldn’t you say that pleasure and relaxation and fulfillment are goals worth advancing?”

She eyed him warily. “I don’t sleep around. Period.”

“Did you sleep with Shep Harding?”

“Yes, I did. I thought I was in love with him. It seemed the most natural thing at the time.”

“I’m sure it was. There’s only one proper way of expressing that deepest love that two people can feel for each other. I’m not condemning you.”

“I should hope not! After all, Alex, are
you
a virgin?”

As he laughed aloud his arms closed about her and pressed her more closely to him. “You know I’m not. And I should think you wouldn’t want me to be.” His voice lowered dangerously, a sensual quality creeping from it into her body. “I’ve learned by trial and error. I’ve made my mistakes on others. Now, for you,” he pressed his lips to her brow, “I know just how,” then her eyes, “to touch,” his hands began an exploration of her back, “and tease,” then rose to her shoulders by way of her breasts, “and find every sensitive spot.” His thumbs caressed her neck and throat; his lips trailed wildfire across her cheek. Alanna couldn’t breathe, his assault was so sensually precise. Her heart thudded loudly, barely muted when covered by his full palm. She could only sigh her content at being touched with such tenderness, could only open her lips to the return of his kiss. Then she realized what she was doing. With the greatest effort she tore her mouth from his and quickly clutched at the first thought to enter her muddled brain.

“Have
you
ever been in love?”

Alex allowed the small distance, studying her indulgently. “Are we still relating this to my virginity, or, uh, lack of it?”

“I wasn’t,” she continued less shakily, “but since you’ve raised the issue, it’s an interesting one. Did you wait for your first true love?”

Looking ceilingward in supplication, he murmured, “Why do I sense an imminent discussion of double standards…?”

“
Were
you in love?”

“Of course not.” His eyes met hers. “I was young and curious.
She
was the one who knew what to do. It was a purely physical thing.”

“Have you
ever
been in love?” Alanna persisted.

A gray glimmer heralded his response. “I am now.”

“Uh-huh,” she humored him. “But
before.
Or, more specifically, why have you never married?”

“I’ve never been in love before.”

This time Alanna’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling in a silent plea for patience. “But there must have been a bevy of women over the years. Didn’t any tempt you into considering marriage?”

Humor lurked at the corners of Alex’s lips. “One or two.”

“Oh?” Did she actually feel the tiniest twinge of jealousy?
Impossible.

“As a matter of fact,” he said, deceptively sober, “there were
three
times when I considered it. The first time was with Sharon. She was a childhood friend; our families would have loved it. The second time was with Jill. I was at college then and particularly annoyed at my father about some petty matter. I might have married her just to spite him.”

“And the third?” she prodded, curious.

“The third,” he sighed, “was a dear friend who found herself in trouble.”

“Pregnant?”

“Yes.”

Alanna’s eyes widened. “Yours?”

“No. I’d never even slept with her.”

She was puzzled. “But you would have married her?”

“Yes.” Alex answered without hesitation. “I thought enough of her to care that the child had a name, a father and some security.”

“What about the biological father?”

He took a breath. “He was in Vietnam … never made it back.” The sadness in Alex’s eyes spoke of his own sense of loss.

Alanna’s voice lowered. “I’m sorry.” Hesitantly, she sought the end of the story. “And … what happened to her?”

Snapping back to the present, he raised strong fingers to lightly caress her face. “She lost the baby. But she’s gotten married since. From what I hear she’s got four kids now.”

Alanna struggled to digest this newly revealed depth of Alex’s character as she fought to cope with the resurgence of desire that his restless fingers were creating. Alex sensed her moment of vulnerability and seized on it, kissing her thoroughly, searching out the depths which, at that moment, she was helpless to seal off. He
was
the masterful seducer, having perfected the art over the years. And he had found her weak spot.

His lips devastated her with their exactness, drawing small sighs and a growing response from her own. His kiss held just the right blend of advance and retreat, luring her toward the point of entrapment. And what sweet entrapment it was. Mindlessly she swayed toward it, unable to think of anything but the pleasure of the moment.

Then, from amid the sensual eddy, she discovered another of his consummate skills as he very gently began to undress her. One after the other, with quiet deliberation, he released the buttons of her blouse. In the process his fingers brushed her skin again and again, always departing even before the whispered cry had escaped her passion-swollen lips. She was enthralled and quite happily at his mercy. Finally, with the last button, the silken fabric fell open. His hands slid along her flesh, easily finding the simple catch of her bra.

Alanna’s knees trembled. His touch was wonderful, inspiring feelings of femininity she had forced herself to forget for too long. Now, with the force of waters suddenly undammed, these feelings surged forward. Eagerly she met his kiss and arched her body against him. His lips clung to hers as, with both hands, he eased the blouse from her shoulders, discarding it and her bra on the floor. His fingers traveled across her flesh, hungry, insatiable, for long moments. Then, with a moan deep in his throat, he lifted her and put her down on the bed. Taking both her hands in his and pinning them to the sheets by her shoulders, he paused to look at her, his gaze searing its way from her face down her neck to the twin peaks of her breasts, now full and creamy, awaiting his touch. Her breath came in shortened gasps, adding to the temptation of her body.

Alanna thought she would explode. This man had unleashed a flood tide of desire within her; only his possession would salve the growing ache within. But he stilled, almost in awe. His hands released hers, then fell to cup her breasts, holding each as he lowered his head to that soft fullness. One at a time he teased the rosy peaks until each was a tiny pebbled dome quivering for more. When his lips returned to hers she could deny him nothing. Her kiss contained her very soul—for it was there that Alex Knight had found her vulnerability.

“I love you,” he whispered, then repeated it louder, more firmly. “I love you.”

Her returning whisper was shaky. “You don’t love me. You may love my body, or some image of the woman you think you’ve waited for all these years. But you don’t love me. You can’t. You don’t know me.”

Alanna watched as he straightened and reached for his tie, his eyes dark with smoldering passion. “I do love you, Alanna.” Hard upon the disposal of his tie went his jacket. She lay still, mesmerized. She knew she should stop him—this was totally improper—yet she wanted to see him as he saw her now. Reaching forward, she set her own fingers to the task of unbuttoning his shirt, gasping as she pushed it aside to reveal his chest, so broad and bronzed and solid. He picked her up then and pulled her against him, their bodies, bare from the waist up, touching with a rapture Alanna could only have imagined. She cried aloud at the beauty of it and clung to him, savoring the strength of him against her breasts, her arms, her torso.

“I love you, Alanna. I need you.” He spoke softly and with conviction, his breath wisping the few loose strands of her hair. He held her back and removed each pin in turn, then spread her golden tresses over her shoulders, his fingers going on to trail further over her flesh.

Alanna was caught up in a hurricane of desire. Its winds blew with such force that she couldn’t resist it. His words rocked her, yet she couldn’t refute them. His hands inflamed her, yet she couldn’t pull away. Her senses swirled round and round, faster and faster, each concentric circle bringing her closer to the center of fulfillment.

Nothing was beyond his reach. His lips never left hers for long, drugging her again and again while his hands played against her with the very expertise of which he’d spoken. She was vaguely aware that he had removed her skirt, but it didn’t matter; all that was real was the headiness of his touch, the driving need for more of him.

It was Alex’s raw whisper that brought her out of her daze for a moment. “Alanna,” he growled, “do you know what you’re doing?”

Blinking, she followed his gaze to her hands—
her
hands—where they lay at his belt. She knew exactly
what
she was doing; it was the
wisdom
of the move that halted her abruptly.

“Oh, Alex,” she moaned in apology. “You do something to my mind! I had completely forgotten where we are—”

He took her hands in his and lifted them to his mouth, kissing her curled fingers. “I think we’ve both been carried away.” His pause was pregnant with meaning, his eyes growing darker by the minute. “Damn it! I can’t even say we’ll carry on at my place tonight, can I?”

At first Alanna shared his regret. For the first time in years she had wanted a man. Really
wanted
him. Even now her body cried out its need. On second thought, however, she
was
appalled at the setting. This hospital room was no place for lovemaking. And this hospital room would be her home for the next two weeks.