Safari Moon (14 page)

“I’m fine.”

He made her sit on the rim of the tub he’d
already begun to fill. Her shirt fell to the floor in a wet, soggy
heap, his on top of it. He kept his eyes fixed on the stream of
water pouring from the faucet, anywhere but the places where he
wanted to look. A second later he had the heater turned up full
blast.

She tried to stand but when she did, she
brushed against him.

“Nyssa--” He wanted to warn her off and then
again he didn’t. With one hand on his chest, she steadied herself.
He pulled the knob for the shower.

“You’re so cold,” she said, her voice a mere
whisper.

“I’m boiling,” he said gruffly.

He brushed her cheekbone with his fingertip.
His eyes riveted on hers and he saw a soft innocence in their
depths, warring with fires so hot he could barely breathe. Steam
from rose from the water in tub, surrounding them both in an
unearthly picture.

“Get in the shower, Nyssa.” He kicked off
his shoes then worked on hers.

“You too.”

The image of the two them naked in the
shower left him breathless. He closed his eyes.

“I will. I will.” With forced control, he
swept her into his arms and climbed into the tub. He held her for a
few seconds letting the heat of the water soak through his clothes
to his flesh. All he meant to do was make sure she stayed warm, but
here she was in his arms, and he knew neither of them would go
anywhere.

He set her on her feet and then his lips met
hers.

The kiss was hard and furious and it
represented all the desire he’d felt for her over the last few
weeks--years. All the crazy, wild emotions that had swept through
him since he’d kissed her that first time. And by all the saints if
he wasn’t imagining this, she kissed him back.

He traced the seam of her lips with his
tongue, once, twice then she opened for him, and he slipped inside.
She tasted like the chili, hot and delectable.

She made delicious little noises in the back
of her throat, pressing her body into his, molding every luscious
curve to fit against him.

He struggled with his clothes, the buttons,
the zippers, still kissing her, unable to let go of her for the few
precious seconds it would take to disrobe. Water streamed over
them, between them.

With a silent curse directed at himself, he
tugged on the buttons of her jeans--his jeans then pushed at both
until he wore only his boxer shorts, and she her silk camisole and
bikini underwear. Molded together beneath the shower like that,
enveloping himself with Nyssa--his kiss was hard and demanding and
the most exhilarating thing he’d ever done.

He trailed kisses across her cheeks down her
neck then back up to her ear. She made those incredibly sexy noises
again, pulling him closer at the same time. With her little pink
tongue, she licked drops of water off his chest.

Gasping for air, he moved away from her then
brought her close again. Solo held her head against his chest, his
other hand at the small of her back. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t
supposed to be this way with Nyssa. If he didn’t stop now, he was
about to ruin the best relationship he’d ever known.

“Nyssa.”

“What,” she said, breathless then found
another droplet of water to lick.

“Nyssa, we have to stop.”

She froze in his arms. “Solo?”

He felt awful, worse than awful. In those
few event-filled seconds she withdrew from him, closing herself
off. He knew he’d lost something infinitely precious, and he wanted
to retrieve the treasure yet he didn’t know how.

Jumping away from him and out of the tub,
she grabbed a towel. One more step created an unbreakable barrier
between them, a chasm too wide to breech.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.
Really.”

“I know,” she said.

“Could you hand me a towel?” For Nyssa’s
sake, Solo wanted to cover himself.

Nyssa backed out of the bathroom. “I’ll get
dressed.”

“Good--fine.”

“Ok. Are we still going to work
tonight?”

“Yes. Wear something warm--and
rainproof.”

“Fine.” With that Nyssa fled the room.

Chapter Seven

The rain no longer poured, having changed to
a steady drizzle two hours earlier. Solo and Nyssa were huddled
together inside the make-shift shelter he’d built weeks before.
Nyssa held the binoculars and he snapped rapid-fire shots of the
wolves. She was so close to him, he could smell the scent of
peaches from her shampoo every time she turned her head and her
hair brushed across his cheek.

“Look, Solo, they’re mating.”

“No,” he said, his voice raspy.

Against his chest, Nyssa’s lush, soft curves
generated hot, liquid heat that penetrated straight through the
down vest he wore direct to his heart.

He let out a low groan. Pure male agony.

“But Solo?”

“Leave it be, Nyssa.”

He moved the binoculars from her hands and
when she looked at him again, her eyes were deep pools of
innocence.

“Don’t you want pictures?”

“No,” he told her between gritted teeth.
“Not this time.”

She shook her head but thankfully she’d also
turned back to the scene, watching as if mesmerized.

“This isn’t at all like you, Solo St. John.
I don’t understand.”

“Nyssa.”

He heard her breath, a soft sigh, and he
knew the intent behind it as well. To ignore the wolf pack wasn’t
like him, but he was determined. It was too much to ask of this
poor male creature who didn’t know up from down or friend from
lover.

A moment later, Nyssa had the binoculars
back to her eyes and had somehow managed to settle against him. He
responded hotly and just as completely as the male animal in front
of them. He closed his eyes but he couldn’t get the suggestive
pictures his mind conjured out of his head. He began to think he
didn’t want to get the images out of his head so he worked twice as
hard.

He’d no more than managed to push the images
to a smaller corner of his brain than he heard Nyssa repeat his
name.

“Solo? Solo? Look.”

“Let’s go back to the tent.” But he opened
one eye and noticed it was lighter outside as well the night should
be. They’d been here for hours and his legs had a decidedly numb
feel to them. He’d chosen to overlook the numbness because Nyssa
sat between his legs, intimately.

“You’re acting childish,” she said.

“I know.”

“Solo, it’s one of the pups. He’s playing
with that old stick.”

Her hand rested on his thigh, lightly, but
her touch generated more seductive images--and lust-filled
hormones. He didn’t need provocation from her.

The pup would have to go. He could think of
no reason to court danger with the wolf pack. There was enough
danger in this scenario with only Nyssa by his side--too much
danger for him to deal with.

Nyssa shooed the pup away with her hands,
rocking back and forth between his legs. She was on her hands and
knees, her arms and shoulders sliding across his chest while she
sent pebbles in opposite directions to divert the little wolf.
Playfully, the pup galloped after one of the pebbles and sniffed,
curiously.

The diversion worked for the pup but not for
him. If anything, he was in a worse state now than a few short
minutes ago when all he had to contend with was the soft scent of a
female in his arms.

When she sat back, she turned far enough for
him to see her face and the twinkle in her eyes. She brushed the
dirt from her hands and grinned--a silly grin--a cute grin.

This has been one hell of a night.

“He’s adorable,” she said.

“Who?”

Nyssa tried to wriggle around into a
different position but wasn’t successful.

“The pup of course.”

“For a minute I’d hoped--” Solo put his
hands on her waist to help her maneuver, although he wasn’t sure
where she tried to go so their movements were at odds with each
other. Touching her was a mistake, a huge mistake. When he adjusted
his hands, he lost his own balance--teetered a moment and suddenly
he was on top of her.

“Don’t you think we should go back?”

But he didn’t want to think of that right
now. Her small slender body pressed against his, all the warm
feminine curves there just for him. Besides she didn’t act as if
she wanted to go back to the cabin any more than he did.

Forgotten were the wolves and the research
and forgotten was the fact that they were in a small cramped
shelter. With her curved into him so intimately, so damn close, he
no longer wanted to think, only to feel. He wasn’t about to be
honorable a second time.

It didn’t take thought on his part to lower
his head and kiss her. His lips moved over hers, greedily, hungrily
as if he was a man long-starved. He needed to taste her, explore
all of her.

All he’d given up the night before when he
so respectfully backed off penetrated his brain. He’d let her run
from him when they both knew she’d responded wildly to his kiss. To
hell with the natural order of the universe and the maintenance of
their solid relationship. If some things were meant to be changed,
this was definitely one of them. He kissed her harder now, his
tongue met hers, dueled, retreated, and he searched for all he’d
missed for so many years.

She wore a sweatshirt beneath baggy
overalls. The straps slipped from her shoulders and the material of
her shirt twisted between them, riding up. His hands, as if by
magic, found their way beneath her shirt, encountered soft, hot,
naked flesh. She wore nothing at all, not even that lacy black
camisole he’d seen her in once before.

His breath caught in the back of his throat
and her leg rode higher on his thigh. He let his other hand slip
beneath the overalls, touched an expanse of soft woman. She wore a
thong bikini, silky, almost non-existent.

He pressed his fingers against her round,
soft bottom, brought her closer. His mouth foraged deeper into
hers, and he reveled in the hot moist taste of her.

Why had he waited so long for this? She felt
so right. Perfect. He touched her everywhere, her skin, soft and
sweet with the heat of her own response and she melted beneath him,
for him. He could not wait a moment longer to have her.

“Nyssa?” He pulled far enough away so he
could see her, be sure she wanted what he did. Her eyes appeared
dazed, her mouth swollen from his kisses. “Positive?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

Then they both heard a low furious growl,
the sound of the wolf pack, the leader. The wolves yipped and raced
from the glade, and the leader let out a slow mournful howl before
Solo heard him leave also.

“Solo.”

It was his grandfather. He sprang into
action, pulling the straps of her overalls over her shoulders.
Quickly, he brushed back her hair in an attempt to smooth the long
strands that had come loose from the pony tail she wore.

There was little he could do. She looked as
if she’d been ravished. And she had.

“Solo? Nyssa? Where the devil are you?”

“Are you ready?” Solo asked.

“The wolves?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll find them again.”

Nyssa nodded but she didn’t look ready to
meet the Colonel. Her eyes were dazed, and he wanted to send his
grandfather away so he could finish what they had started.

Aside from the fact he was a man of the
world, Solo understood his grandfather would draw all the right
conclusions. He’d never realized what the term compromising
position meant until now. If he wasn’t already engaged to her, he’d
have to pop the question. Now that was a ludicrous thought.

“We’re over here but there’s no room in the
shelter for anyone else. We’ll be out in a minute.”

He heard his grandfather give a loud hrmph,
an informed hrmph. It wasn’t as if he could know yet what they’d
been up to. He couldn’t have heard them.

Or could he?

Solo moved from the shelter, his shirt
unbuttoned and flapping in the breeze. A cold wind whipped across
his chest, and he hadn’t realized until now that Nyssa had undone
every button. When he looked back, Nyssa sat on her knees, her hair
a wild tangle despite his attempts to finger-comb the strands into
place.

“Stay here until you’re ready,” he said.
Although he didn’t think she’d be able to make herself presentable
enough to fool his grandfather. And heaven forbid if his
grandmother was out there too. After what he’d told her about his
plans for the wedding night--

He hesitated another minute before he backed
from the shelter so he could drink in the sight of Nyssa--a
beautiful sight. She was still on her knees, her eyes huge and
luminous, her breasts rising and falling with each inhalation.
Disheveled. Gorgeous. Even an idiot would know what he’d done to
her.