Pandora's Box (previously Worth the Wait, a Zebra print best seller) (20 page)

He kissed her over and over while slowly moving his hand along her flat stomach until he reached the fullness of her breast. She arched closer and he took the mound in his hand, running his thumb and forefinger over the nipple until it was taut and throbbing with excitement. The sheer pleasure caused her to gasp.

Damian looked up. “Charlie?” he murmured, his voice husky with passion. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Please, stop asking me that. It’s distracting,” she begged, trying to pull him back.

He smiled and lowered his mouth to her stomach. Nothing in her experiences had prepared her for the hot surges flowing through her body. The sensations defied understanding, so she closed her eyes and just let them happen. He continued higher until his mouth covered her breast, sending a jolt of live current through her entire being.

When Charlie could no longer stand the waiting, she reached for his head, trying to find his mouth again. He met her willing lips, urging them open with deep, hot kisses. She responded with an abandon that should have frightened her, but for some wonderful reason it didn’t

She wanted him, but when she tried to tell him, all that came out was a soft groan of desire. She could feel him hard and hot against her own flesh. Unable to take any more, she glanced up at him. “Please,” was all she said.

Damian met her imploring gaze. He wanted to go slow, take his time. She had to be absolutely sure every step of the way. He didn’t want to destroy her fragile trust. Not when they had worked so hard to reach this point.

“Is something wrong?” Her quiet question reflected a shy insecurity.

“Not at all. Give me a second.”

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. She inched away, but he put one hand on her waist to stop her while the other hand reached into the drawer of the bedside table for a small foil packet. She shot him a look of relief and utter impatience. He was back to her in seconds.

“Now, where were we?” He ran his hand along the indentation of her waist, along her hip, and down her leg. “Right about here, I think.”

Her body squirmed impatiently beneath his slow and deliberate caress along her thigh. The closer his hand got to that secret recess, the higher she arched, urging him to put an end to the teasing.

He moved his hands underneath her tight, round buttocks and positioned her below him. Using his knee, he parted her legs and slid inside, filling her. She tensed, so he gave her a moment to adjust to him.

“I’m all right.” She clasped her hands on his shoulders and pulled him onto her.

He gazed at her for a long moment, fighting a tide of emotion that threatened to send him over the edge. He needed to remain in control, just in case she changed her mind.

She wriggled beneath him and let out a soft, sexy moan. Surprised, and perhaps a little embarrassed, she laughed. “Sorry.”

“Why? I like what I’m doing to you.” And apparently, so did she.

Her unbridled response pleased him. She had taken such a long time to trust him that he had wondered if she would ever come around. Now his biggest challenge might be holding back long enough to enjoy the rest. Her hands explored every inch of him. His mind exploded with need. Her touch scorched him and her sinuous movements were an unbearable torture.

She gazed up at him through her thick lashes, and for the first time he saw unconditional trust.

He slid his arms through hers and balanced the bulk of his weight on his elbows. His fingers cupped her shoulders as he began a gentle rocking motion. With a contented sigh, she wrapped her arms and legs around him. She moved in counterpoint to his slow rhythm, building to a faster pace. She matched every move of his body with her own. A quick learner who got braver with every second. He took everything she gave so freely, giving back to her the same way.

Her eyes widened as if she couldn’t quite grasp what was happening to her own body. A startled gasp escaped from deep in her throat. She dug her nails into the skin on his back and climaxed in a violent shudder.

As she tightened around him, the last of his control slipped away and he plunged into the same exhilarating, inevitable release. He claimed her mouth one last time. Sweetness and warmth greeted him. Nothing before in his life had come close to the emotional intensity of this moment.

After his breathing leveled, once his heart decelerated to a semi-normal rate, he propped himself up on his elbows and gazed into her midnight eyes.

A silver tear streamed down her cheek.

He brushed it away with his thumb and left his hand resting on the side of her flushed face. “Are you okay?”

She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a tiny hiccup.

“Did I hurt you?”

Charlie shook her head. “Just the opposite.” She sighed and snuggled against him. Her body glowed in the aftermath of their lovemaking.

Damian started to move away.

* * * *

Charlie muttered a heartfelt protest and grabbed onto his broad shoulders. “Don’t go.”

For the first time in her life, the emptiness that plagued her was gone. Even her anger, which she had accepted as a basic part of her character, had deserted her.

“I just want to get the blanket. I wouldn’t want you to get cold.”

“Cold? I think the air conditioning would be more appropriate.”

Damian stroked her cheek. “What are you feeling?”

“I have no idea. But whatever it is, I like it”

He pulled her into his arms and caressed her. She closed her eyes, remembering every detail of their lovemaking. Her body still tingled from his touch. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why she had been afraid of something so wonderful. She felt intoxicated, and in a way, she was. This was something she could easily get addicted to. But there would be no hangover in the morning.

“Damian?”

“What’s the matter?”

“Would you think me completely selfish if I said I wanted to do it again?”

A lazy, self-satisfied grin lifted the corners of his mouth. “I guarantee we will.”

“I mean now.”

“Now? I thought you had other plans.”

Charlie smiled devilishly as she ran her hand in slow circles down the center of his body. She felt him starting to respond again, and it filled her with an incredible sense of power. He was hers and she was his, in all ways that mattered. “Did you really want to do the laundry today?”

* * * *

Charlie feigned interest in the Monet painting before her. Left with a choice, she would have been perfectly content to spend the rest of the day where she had begun it. Damian, however, had insisted that they do more sightseeing after they left the crisis center. His idea of being a tourist translated into visiting the museums. Art appreciation had never been one of her favorite classes, but Damian was so intent on giving her a wonderful vacation that she didn’t have the heart to tell him she was bored to tears.

The Renaissance painters made her sleepy. The cubists made her cross-eyed. By Picasso, she was ready to scream. She couldn’t take much more. They had finally made the rounds. She saw the exit door and smiled with relief.

“What should we do next? The Whitney Museum or the Guggenheim?” he asked.

She grabbed his shirt and shook him. “No more art, Damian. This is something I didn’t inherit from Peter. My idea of fine art is a poster of Brad Pitt.”

His face clouded over in a wounded scowl. “Brad Pitt? Are you thinking about other men already?”

“Only in purely artistic terms. You know what I want to do.”

Damian placed an arm around her shoulder and led her out the door. “I know that Erik made me sound like I’m some kind of machine, but even I have to rest sometimes.”

She stroked his cheek lovingly and gazed into his eyes. “Oh, you poor baby. I had no idea you were so exhausted. Let’s go back to your apartment and I’ll put you right to bed.”

“What have I created here?”

“Hey. If I had known it was gonna be that much fun, I wouldn’t have fought you for so long. I want to make up for lost time.”

“All in one day?”

“No. Three days. I refuse to sleep with the boss; so once I start work, the party’s over.”

Damian stopped in his tracks. “You’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not.” She continued walking, leaving a stunned Damian standing on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

“Charlie, wait.” Taking the steps two at a time, he caught up to her on the crowded sidewalk. “Can we discuss this?”

“Not on an empty stomach. I’ll treat.” She strolled to a corner vendor to purchase two hot dogs, hers with raw onions, and two cans of cola. She needed a distraction when he started turning on the charm. A bad case of onion breath should do the trick. She handed him the food to keep his hands occupied. “Enjoy.”

“Now, the way I see it, Erik owns ten percent of the stock in the company. So we’ll just say you’re working for him.”

Charlie bit into her hot dog and sighed appreciatively. “It won’t work. You still sign the paycheck. Eat your hot dog.”

“Do you think I’m a fool?” He turned to the vendor and had a large spoonful of onions heaped on his hot dog, too. “As I was saying—”

She leaned back against a light-post and raised her head in challenge. “What’s your problem? You just said I exhausted you this morning. I’m only thinking of you. You need a break from me.”

He arched his eyebrow in amusement. “Shot with my own ammunition. You want to have your cake and eat it, too.”

“You’re the one who said I could have it all,” she reminded him. “But I’m serious. It’s all business at the office.”

“Of course. At the office. That still leaves sixteen more hours in each day.”

“I don’t want people to know about us.”

“I’m not in the habit of announcing my private life to my employees. I won’t even mention your relationship to Erik, if that’s what you want.”

She swallowed hard and took a large gulp of cola. “I don’t ever want that announced, anywhere. That is old news and no one’s business.”

“I have to say something. You didn’t get the position through normal channels.”

“You can say I went to college with Erik. It’s only a temporary position, anyway.”

“According to our company records, more than half of the women who leave to have a baby don’t return. It might be permanent, if you can handle it.”

Charlie’s frowned. “Are you insinuating that I can’t?”

“You haven’t seen your boss in a tirade,” Damian joked.

“Oh yes, I have. And if I can handle you, I can handle anything.”

“Anything but who you are, Charlie,” he added solemnly.

She took one last sip of her cola and tossed the can in the garbage. “I handle it, Damian. I don’t choose to share it with the world. Don’t you care what it would do to your mother?”

“Do you?”

“Not really,” she answered truthfully. “But I do care what it would do to Erik if I deliberately tried to hurt his mother. And you, too, for that matter.”

“I don’t care if you hurt her after what she’s done.” The sorrow with which he delivered his words revealed his true feelings.

She slipped in under his arm and began walking down the street. “I know that’s not true. You’re angry because your mother isn’t who you thought she was, but very few people are.”

“How did you get so smart, Charlotte?”

Charlie laughed. Smart? If she had been smart, she would have steered clear of Damian. Theirs was a relationship doomed before it had begun. There was no future for them. Her last meeting with Monica had left no doubt in her mind that she would ever be welcomed into the family on any level. Not as Peter’s daughter, not as Erik’s half -sister, and definitely not as Damian’s wife.

“Charlie?”

She shook her head. “Hmm?”

“A penny for your thoughts.”

“Sorry, they’re not for sale today.” She batted her eyelashes flirtatiously. “But there are ways of making me talk. Too bad you wanted to go to another museum.”

“Are we back to that again?”

“Yep.”

He paused just long enough to tease her and then flashed a smile. “Let’s go home.”

“Before I embarrass you?”

“Before I embarrass myself.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

On Sunday morning, the last day of her vacation, Erik showed up at the New York apartment Charlie felt guilty that she hadn’t called him all week, but she hadn’t known how to face him. The fact that she was fast asleep in Damian’s bed when he arrived didn’t bolster her courage either.

She spent close to half an hour getting dressed, dragging her feet as if she were on her way to the dentist for a root canal. Damian came to the room twice to see what was keeping her. Normally she was ready for the day in less than ten minutes, including the shower. When he found her on the bed making a big production out of tying her shoelaces, he sent her brother in after her.