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Authors: Fran Baker

Tags: #Contemporary Romance

On Love's Own Terms (12 page)

BOOK: On Love's Own Terms
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“No.” The candle flame flickered with his approach.

“Well, then,” she breathed eagerly, holding out her arms to him, “I suppose you’ll simply have to violate me instead.”

“You must have read my mind.” He paused beside the bed.

“No.” She forced herself to look him straight in the eye. “Let’s just say that your intentions are pretty conspicuous at this moment.”

“Now that we know you’ve got twenty-twenty vision,” he said huskily, “we’ll have to see how the rest of you measures up.”

Luke lay down, and the clean fragrance of fresh straw wafted up around them as they sank back together into the soft ticking. Bonnie melted like warm, wild honey under his feverish caresses and the deep, loving strokes of his tongue. Her fingers teased him and her lips tasted him as she made her own survey, memorizing each muscle.

Thighs and arms interlocked as their mouths savored what they might never sample again so completely. When he moved up over her, she cupped the solid curve of his buttocks and marveled at the smooth ripple of sinew beneath her hands. Their heartbeats set the rhythm and their bodies kept perfect pace.

Primitive shadows danced on the ancient walls while the candlelight cast a mellow glow over their entwining limbs, illuminating the physical evidence of a spiritual bond that neither time nor law had truly dissolved. The taper burned low first, and the world slumbered, unaware that the word
forever
could mean hours in love’s unlimited vocabulary.

* * * *

“Luke?” She shook him gently. “Luke!”

“Mmm?” His answer was muffled in the crook of her neck.

“Are you asleep?” She shifted her position slightly.

“Not anymore.”

“I’m starved!” she whispered urgently.

“You’re insatiable,” he growled dreamily.

Bonnie’s stomach rumbled. “I haven’t had a bite of food since we ate lunch with Darlene and Dave.”

He raised his head and smiled mischievously. “Oh, you mean that appetite?”

“Yes,
that
appetite.” She swatted his hand when it wandered with warm abandon, slower and lower over her stomach. “I’m hungry.”

“Me, too,” he murmured as his mouth made a delicious descent and nibbled ravenously from the offering of her lips.

The flavor and texture of his kiss made her forget the reason that she’d awakened. But her stomach’s second, noisy protest during the romantic delay reminded them both of her original purpose in rousing him. It took some rather ingenious untangling of legs and arms before they were free to search the single cupboard, bare but for a tin of beef stew and a bottle of lemon-lime soda.

“Tell me, Father Hubbard,” she teased, “do you entertain all of your overnight guests this lavishly, or am I one of the privileged few?”

Luke set the manual can opener aside and turned to her, tipping her chin to meet his serious expression. “I’ve never had another woman in this cabin, Bonnie. I never will.”

She knew in that moonlit moment that he spoke the truth and felt giddy with relief. He embraced her and their mouths fused, sealing off that part of their past and healing another of envy’s old wounds. She could face the future now, not having to envision him sharing this special place with a stranger.

“Sorry.” Bonnie ducked her head, embarrassed when her stomach growled impatiently again. “I’d muzzle it if I could.”

He released her and grinned. “Now that I’m up and about, food is beginning to sound like a pretty good idea to me, too.”

She took the one spoon and he used the one fork in the cabin. They sprinkled the wilting watercress that he’d cut earlier over the cold, canned stew and sipped the tepid soda straight from the bottle. She couldn’t remember a meal she’d ever enjoyed so much.

When they were finished eating, he raced her to the creek, where they washed their utensils and rinsed off their hands. She didn’t really plan on pushing him in. But he made such a nice splash when she did.

Bellowing like some crazed monster from the deep, he rose out of the stream and carried her, kicking and squealing, into the waist-high water. Sloshing and dunking each other, they excited a riot of raucous scolding from every bird guarding a nest in the trees.

As she’d saved herself for him these seven years, so had Bonnie saved her laughter. It bubbled merrily inside her now and pealed from her throat, joining Luke’s hearty roar in a jubilant chorus of midnight delight. Weak with hilarity they clung to one another as they stumbled out of the water, gasping for air.

Sprawling side by side on the mossy bank, neither of them noticed the stars winking brightly above them. Nor did they see the moonlight spilling in silvery streams from the sky. Their eyes mirrored only each other, and their silliness gave way to seriousness as their two minds knew but a single thought.

“I love you.” Their voices coupled, husky and soft.

Luke rolled onto his back and Bonnie straddled him with her knees. Slowly, thoroughly, she kissed each sinewed inch of him. His fingers toyed with her wet hair as she drove him near the exquisite edge of no return. Regaining control with a harsh growl he pulled her upward and mouthed her dusky rose nipples, which blossomed under the tender torture of his tongue.

When he finally fit her onto him, she received several strong thrusts before gentling him beneath her. Again she tested his endurance until finally he secured her hips with his hands and drove upward, leaving her breathless with ecstasy. Her body closed around him as their sighs mingled with the night mist.

* * * *

“Why did you say yesterday that you wished you’d made me pregnant again?”

Smoke spiraled from the glowing red tip of Luke’s cigarette toward the beamed ceiling of the cabin. “To make amends, I suppose.”

“Amends?” Bonnie sat up and hugged her knees, moving for the first time since he’d carried her inside and put her on the bed. “For what?”

“Hey, I thought that you’d already accepted my plea of temporary insanity on this issue.” Because his grave tone belied his teasing remark, she waited quietly until he continued. “You wanted our other baby so much…”

Fear clawed at her throat but she found the courage to ask, “And you didn’t?”

“I wanted
you,
Bonnie. If that meant having the baby, too…” He shrugged. “Remember, I thought with my glands instead of my brains in those days.”

She rested her cheek on her kneecaps, hurt by his honesty but relieved to hear the truth at long last. “Then you didn’t blame me when I miscarried?”

“Hell, no,” he admitted hoarsely. “In fact, I blamed myself.”

“Why?” She looked over her shoulder in surprise.

He crushed his cigarette in the ashtray, then pressed his head back into the pillow. “Because for several years afterwards, I believed that I was the cause of it.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” she whispered incredulously.

“You probably don’t recall, but we’d made some pretty passionate love the night before it happened.” He pulled her down and she laid her head on his chest. “While you were in the recovery room, the doctor asked me if you had engaged in any
strenuous
activity that might have brought on an early labor.” His voice vibrated with the pain of remembrance. “It was like he had pointed his finger straight at me. I just knew that if I’d kept my hands off you—”

“And I thought you were mad at me when I came home from the hospital,” she murmured. “We’d quit talking and stopped touching—”

“I felt so guilty that I could hardly look you in the eye, much less take you in my arms. Whenever I heard you crying, I died a little inside.” His heavy sigh stirred her hair. “After I lost my job, I went crazy trying to prove I was still a man. By the time I came to my senses, you were gone—living in another world entirely.”

It was history now. But was it a lesson learned too late? Bonnie raised herself up, her tears raining softly on his face while Luke held her through that darkest hour. And a passion born of friendship, fostered in sorrow, finally came of age.

 

Chapter 8

 

Morning dawned much too early. They had to leave; it wasn’t a matter of choice. After washing up in the clear creek water they dressed in rumpled clothes that they’d forgotten to hang up the night before, then stripped the bed they’d shared. Bonnie’s heart weighed heavily when Luke locked up the cabin, and her legs felt leaden as they climbed the hill toward the spot where he’d parked the truck.

He suggested that they stop somewhere for breakfast since the grocery store wouldn’t open for another hour, and she nodded in weary agreement. She wasn’t hungry, but even fools need their nourishment. Besides, a strong cup of coffee might stimulate her brain cells. Lord knew they needed any boost they could get.

They ate in silence, exchanging only brief glances across the formica table of the cramped pancake house. Under ordinary circumstances, she would have demolished the buckwheat stack dripping fresh-churned butter and sweet maple syrup. Now, the few bites she managed were simply a means of gaining strength to get through the day. When their half-empty plates were cleared and their cups refilled, he lit a cigarette, and she made a great production of stirring sugar into her coffee.

“I lied to you last night,” Luke admitted levelly. “When I said I wished I’d gotten you pregnant to make amends,” he explained as she tipped her head in curiosity. “The truth is, I figured it would give us the perfect excuse to try again.”

Shocked, she felt her gaze widen with incredulity.
“What?”

He shrugged. “Long-distance love and a weekend marriage—I realize it’s not exactly the romantic ideal. But it is an alternative, hopefully a temporary one, for people like us with careers in different cities.”

She searched his face for humor as the import of his words made an impact on her. When she spoke, it was barely a squeak. “Is that a
proposal?”

He broke into a rueful grin. “And a poorly worded one, at that.”

Bonnie set her spoon aside and said the first thing that popped into her head. “But my weekends are usually booked solid. Receptions. Graduations. Conventions.” She sighed dismally, knowing she wasn’t phrasing this well at all. “It’s a good fifty percent of my business...”

“Damn it, then
you
think of a solution.” His dark eyes bored straight through her as he leaned across the table. “I love you—”

“I love you, too,” she interrupted hoarsely. “But everything is happening so fast. With Darlene’s wedding scheduled in forty-eight hours and all the work yet to be done, can you honestly expect me to make such an important decision in such a short amount of time?”

“I’m not a patient man, Bonnie.” Luke leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on the table, his knuckles whitening where they interlaced. “It’s certainly not something that I’m proud of—it’s just a fact.”

“Patience isn’t one of my virtues, either.” She reached over and laid her hands on his. Feeling his tension, she realized what it had cost him to admit his fault. And she loved him for it.

“Both of us have paid in spades for that vice,” he continued slowly. “And while my idea that we remarry might
sound
impetuous, it’s all I’ve been able to think about since you came back.”

“I—I don’t know. It’s so sudden… for me, at least.” She thought she might drown in the inky depths of his eyes and dropped her gaze. “I need time, Luke... to adjust—”

“We’ve already wasted seven years,” he interrupted. “For God’s sake, don’t squander the rest of our lives as well.”

She pulled her hands away, and they sat silently while the waitress totaled their bill. Luke finished his cigarette before he paid the check, and Bonnie used the rest room. She looked into the mirror above the sink and admitted to a special glow she hadn’t seen in her face since leaving home.

Home.
She closed her eyes while images danced through her mind. If home were truly where the heart resided, then her place was with Luke. But…remarriage?

Bonnie crumpled up the paper towel she was using and tossed it into the wastebasket. They clicked in all the right areas, more now than ever before. But having finally opened the lines of communication, could they keep them free—

Someone jiggled the doorknob rather impatiently. Bonnie relinquished the rest room and joined Luke in the pickup. They cruised into Atlanta, each lost in private thought. When he steered into a parking lot and stopped, she peered out the window and realized they were sitting in the shadow of his skyscraper. Just remembering the events of the previous day, she felt her heart plummeting through the floorboards.

“While you’re in your office,” she murmured, pleating her skirt between her slender fingers, “I’ll wait out here.”

“I’m only exchanging my truck for my car. I keep one or the other parked here all the time.” He got out of the pickup and came around to the passenger side. Her relief must have been evident in her expression because, after he opened the door, a look of keen perception flickered in his eyes. “Look, about Chris—”

“I understand,” Bonnie replied calmly. But she couldn’t hide the hurt in her voice. “You needed each other, professionally and personally. But that doesn’t make it any easier for me.” Pivoting, she started across the asphalt lot. “Which one of these belongs to you?”

He grabbed her elbow and spun her around. “You’re
not
running out on me this time. If you’re upset, let’s have it—right here, right now.”

For a second she simply stared at him. When she finally spoke, her voice wavered dangerously. “Logically, what you did makes more sense than what I did…”

“But?” he prompted, releasing her elbow.

Bitter tears stung her eyes and she bowed her head. “But I
waited
for you, Luke—I realize that now. And you… you didn’t—”

With an anguished groan, he took her in his arms. “If I’d known—hell, why do you think I let Darlene rattle on about you all the time? She was my only source of information.” He buried his face in her hair. “It was torture, listening to her talk. If she said, ‘Bonnie saw a Broadway play last night,’ I’d immediately wonder who you went with and what you did after the curtain came down.”

BOOK: On Love's Own Terms
7.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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