Shadows of the Past (12 page)

Figuring a little demonstration wouldn’t go amiss to get him what he wanted, what he craved, he circled the tight beads puckering her breasts with both thumbs. Gently, carefully, he cherished them with his hands then sced the beaded skin with the tips of his thumbnails.

She learned quickly.

As she followed his lead, practicing newfound skills on him, Maria’s groans of pleasure were too potent to resist. Lowering his mouth, he swallowed the surprised gasps whole, took her breath inside him, made it his again and again, until his head buzzed with carbon dioxide overload.

Maria’s head had just begun to cease spinning, when her education moved on to a whole new level. “Just so you know,” he said, “I’ll let you in on everything that’s going to happen. That way, you won’t be scared or shocked.”

Some of the things she’d done that night had shocked her silly. Had she really suggested Franc carry on where he’d left off at the restaurant?

Franc’s voice rippled across her nerve endings. “All you have to keep in mind is what we’re doing is normal.”

Maria smiled, knowing he couldn’t see her for he was kneeling close to the bottom of the bed with one of her feet in his hands, her heel balanced about waist level. His waist.

Her other foot lay close to his hip, and as the pressure of his fingers made her squirm with ecstasy, half pleasure, half pain, she rubbed the edge of her sole over the slim ridge of his hipbone.

Straightening her knee, he stroked her calf and lifted her foot higher. “This is where we find out which little piggy went to market.”

A convulsive shudder wracked her spine, and if it wasn’t the words themselves that played on her libido, then it was the rough timbre of his voice, like champagne fizzing over ice. She felt the heat of his breath, of his mouth as he nuzzled her instep. Air hissed between her lips as she tried not to shout out loud. But it was impossible to hold back the sound when his tongue flicked across the crease under her big toe.

And when he drew it into his mouth.
Help!

When she’d suggested they continue where they’d left off at the restaurant, she’d only been teasing, trying to act sophisticated, as if it would be fun. She hadn’t known he’d take the idea this far or how much she’d enjoy it.

Her body was as lax as a teddy bear that had been washed and hung out to dry, and her toes still tingled, when he casually slipped in a remark. “It’s all downhill from here, hon, the back of your knee, your thigh, so don’t get uptight about it. Just lie there and think of the pleasure it’s going to bring you.”

His outline shimmered where the golden glow from outside slid over his skin the way she wanted to. A telling glimmer of white teeth cut through the darkness, as with a twist of his shoulders he settled lower, his hair brushing her thigh.

Her bones had turned to water, sinking her deeper and deeper into the mattress until she was sure she’d never be able to move from that spot. The feeling lasted just as long as it took to nip the soft skin between his teeth. “Ouch! You nipped me.”

“Just making sure you’re still awake.” Franc soothed the small hurt with his tongue. “Wouldn’t want you to get too comfortable and miss outgood part.”

“Promises, promises, tell me when we get there.”

“We’re there,” he replied.

“Where?” she asked as his finger cut a path through the crisp curls between her thighs.

“Virgin territory and I’m getting the first taste.”

Maria had no words to describe what was happening. Nothing in the romances she’d read had prepared her for the heat of his mouth, the flicker of his tongue. Her whole body radiated with fire. And Franc was at the core of the conflagration, fueling it with the most intimate of caresses.

No longer the relaxed puddle of flesh and bone he’d created, she was driven higher and higher by his mastery of her senses until she dug her fingers through his hair, gripping his scalp as if it was the only thing anchoring her to the bed.

Not for long. Every muscle tensed as if fear of the unknown held her back, as if nothing would ever be the same if she let go.

Even as she shattered, she knew she was right. Her life had just changed in some indefinable way. But as she floated somewhere around ceiling height, she forgot that Franc wasn’t hers for keeps. That she only had him for another few days.

“No, this is the good part. I wouldn’t lie to you, so just be patient.” Franc wished he could see the look on her face. Sure, he’d brought her to climax, but he didn’t want to make her skittish again by turning on the light. Instead, he slowly sheathed himself and nudged her damp folds with the blunt head of his erection, waiting, giving her a few moments to adjust.

Kissing her breasts, he smoothed his palms lightly up and down her arms, setting up a rhythm with both hands and mouth until Maria’s hips began to rise in time with his caresses.

Within moments of feeling the tension between her legs build, he sucked one of her dark nipples deep into his mouth while he pressed a short distance inside her. Maria moaned out loud.

She was so tight he didn’t know if he’d be able to hold off, but tonight would set the tone for the other nights to come and he didn’t want anything to spoil what at the back of his mind he’d named the season of Maria, a summer break to remember.

He slid his hands down and gripped her hips as he established himself an inch farther inside. Distracting her by sliding his mouth higher, he sought out new flavors: her shoulder, the sweet hollow between her collarbone and the base of her throat, the tender skin beneath her jaw.

Then he took her mouth.

It flowered under his, opening like the roses among the vines just for him, her hips rising, writhing in supplication. But he didn’t make his final move until her mouth followed his every time he had to lift his head. Searching, demanding, her teeth, tongue and lips impatient, frantic for more, far too involved for her to worry about what else was happening. That’s when he pressed home in one smooth surge of his thigh muscles.

This was as new to him as it was to Maria. The urge to draw back and thrust again was fierce. It prowled the back of his mind like a tiger that needed caging, needed whippinsubmission.

He turned his thoughts outward, to Maria, to her needs. Slipping his hands under her shoulders, he felt her curves fit against the hard angles of his body as he surrounded her with his warmth, cupping her nape in one palm to massage the back of her head. “How do you feel?”

“Weird. Full, but ple-e-ase, don’t stop what you’re doing to my scalp. I can take more of that.” Her hand pursued a tentative exploration of his jaw, becoming bolder, she traced his mouth with a fingertip. Franc wasn’t sure if she was aware of the understated movements inside her, tightening and releasing, holding and letting go, until he wanted to yell uncle and give in to the subtle persuasion before he was certain she was ready for the next step.

“Is that all there is?”

A bark of laughter shook him, rippling from him into her.

“I don’t know what’s so funny, but do it again,” she murmured, her breath brushing his lips.

“Good grief, I think I’ve created a monster, a precocious monster, but don’t let anyone say Franc Jellic doesn’t give satisfaction.” He drew back, slowly, carefully, until he was barely inside her.

Next moment her legs and arms locked him in a desperate embrace. “No, stop!”

He flexed his hips and thrust. “Stop this?” He eased back and repeated the action.

“No. I can take plenty of that.” Her voice sounded deep, throaty, as if it hurt to drag the words out.

She tightened around the next thrust, and he almost lost it. Without volition, his thrusts deepened, sped up, and her hips rose up to meet them. Need and want and hunger turned them into one desperate mass of hands, teeth and tongue, the slap of skin against skin punctuated by gasps and groans as they used their bodies to egg each other on, making their hearts pump faster and blood race like a bushfire through their veins.

The first ripples of her sheath tightening around his thrusting male flesh were like an invitation to Olympus where his goddess lived. He just wanted to be sure she was there to greet him when he came pounding on her gate.

And she was. And it was everything he’d known it would be and more as she gathered him in her soft arms and welcomed the burst of his heat deep inside her.

For the first time in his life Franc understood the full meaning of sated. But in his relaxed contentment he realized the damp on his face wasn’t sweat. Instead, Maria’s tears flowed freely, dampening his shoulder. “Hell, don’t tell me I hurt you, I tried to be careful.”

“Shush, it’s okay, they’re happy tears. I never knew anything could be so beautiful.”

He felt almost embarrassed; his arm trembled as he lifted his weight off her. “That’s a relief! I wouldn’t hurt you for the world, you know that, don’t you?” He cupped her face with one hand, swiping at her tears with his thumb. Deep in his chest it hurt when he breathed. “It frightens me that I could make you cry. That anyone might make you cry.”

His fist clenched. This wasn’t the moment to mention Randy’s name, to bring up the pain the guy hacaused Maria, but Randy’s imprint on Maria’s bed had burrowed itself in his memory like a canker he wanted to pluck out.

“I’m okay now. It was emotional overload. I shouldn’t have waited so long to discover the delights of the flesh.”

He could tell she was teasing him, could feel the shape of her smile against his cheek, but he took no pleasure in the thought of Maria being inducted into—as she put it—the delights of the flesh by someone else. He rolled over with her in his arms until she rested on him instead of taking his weight. “I’m glad you waited for me.”

“So am I. I couldn’t have had a better teacher, but I don’t know if you realized that after a while, you stopped explaining what was going to happen next.”

He bussed her chin with his lips. He’d have to watch what he promised Maria. She was the kind of woman who would keep him to his word. “How could I explain what we just experienced? I’m an engineer not a poet.”

“That’s okay, I was joking, and trying to make you bite. You rose to the bait beautifully. But just think, we get to do it all over again tomorrow night.” She wiggled against him as if anticipating the next time they made love.

Boy, did he have a lot to teach Maria. And it was going to be his pleasure. He could feel himself harden, and the way the cushioned softness of her belly accommodated the pressure.

Smiling to himself, Franc asked her, “Who says we have to wait until tomorrow. It’s not one of my rules.”

Her chest lifted against him in a deep sigh. “Not one of mine, either.” Maria tried to close her mind to tomorrow as he began to love her again.

Tomorrow meant going back to Tech-Re-Search, being in the offices alone with the knowledge that outside them Randy Searle might be waiting.

He’d upped the stakes when he’d entered her room, despoiled her possessions. But then, he’d done her the favor of having her transferred bodily to Franc’s fourth-floor apartment. Unless he was a mountain climber, he wouldn’t be sneaking into this part of her life anytime soon.

“Hon, somehow I don’t think I have all your attention.”

“Don’t worry, Franc, that’s one part of my life I can soon remedy.” She groaned as he pulled her closer, and gave herself up to the caress of his palms and the heaven of his lips.

Life wasn’t all bad.

Tomorrow would have to take care of itself.

O
h, help. It’s daylight already.

Maria jerked up in bed, the covers tucked tight over her bare breasts. Ever mindful of hiding her scars, she’d slept the last couple of hours the same way.

Sighing, she looked down at the crumpled pillow beside her, unable to decide wher to be glad or sad about waking up alone.

Now, where had Franc tossed her chemise after her last attempt to don it during the night? Her eyes searched the room. Spying a pool of lace floating with blatant femininity against the sea of earthy gray carpet, she slipped out of bed, picked it up and caught an endless glimpse of her reflection.

The two large matching mirrors were a grand gesture, one she hadn’t expected. They hung opposite each other, one mirror over the bed and the other above a simple, narrow black-granite table.

If it had been her room she’d have flowers on the hard shiny top, so their reflections would bounce back and forth between the two.

She hadn’t paid much attention to the carpet previously. Of course, it had been dark, but the only furniture in the room that had any color was the deep rust–colored tub chair that coordinated with the bedspread. That’s where Franc had tossed his shirt and pants. It wasn’t until after she’d redecorated to her satisfaction in her mind’s eye that it occurred to Maria, if the lights had been turned up, it would have been multiple images of her and Franc’s skipping from mirror to mirror in a never-ending stream of lovemaking. After what she had done last night, she wouldn’t have thought she had a blush left in her, but she was wrong.

The sound of a shower running explained Franc’s absence, but at least he had the goodness to leave the bag containing her toiletries on her side of the en suite door.

Covered now, she walked back to the bed and gave the sheets a quick straighten. She smoothed the soft silver percale into place and realized that unlike virgins in the romances she’d read, she hadn’t lost a speck of blood. At the back of her mind she’d always carried a worry that more had occurred during her abduction than her parents cared to tell her.

She had been tight though.

But it hadn’t hurt too much.

That had to be because Franc had initiated her to lovemaking so gently. The way he had promised. And though she was still tender it was a good feeling, almost as if he was still inside her. Maria straightened, the thought replaced by panic as she saw the time on the bedside clock, a quarter before eight.

She was going to be late for work.

Her clothes were hanging in the room next to Franc’s. After he’d rushed her away from the villa, insisting he wouldn’t sleep nights knowing she was alone, he’d shown her in there. A gesture to her conscience, as if they hadn’t known she’d be sharing his bed. Truth be told, he hadn’t slept much in any case, but at least she’d been lying beside him…on him, under him.

Maria opened the closet, a smile curving her lips as she took out a summer-weight navy suit, grabbed clean underwear from a fitted shelf, surprising herself by wondering which set Franc would like best if she ever had enough courage to parade her body in them. As the mirrored door slid back into place, she noticed the flush to her skin.

Not a glow of love, just hours of lovemaking, she had the aches to prove it. That brought on another smile. God, would people take one look at her and know what she’d been doing. Would her mother…

No, she wouldn’t be seeing the family for a few w

Pulling down the neck of her chemise she studied the scars on her breasts. With her skin pink from close encounters with the dark stubble on Franc’s face, she could almost tell herself they didn’t look so bad. She lifted the lace hem but dropped it just as smartly. The thought of missing the eight-thirty bus into the city was enough to change her mind.

Anyway, no need to look if any other patches of skin had retained a glow, she could feel that they did as she made a mad dash down the hall to the main bathroom, knowing the hours between arriving at work and meeting up with Franc in the evening would be the longest in her life.

Franc heard a shower running as he stepped out of his bedroom and solved the mystery of Maria’s disappearance from his bed.

When he’d wakened earlier, she’d been lying so still, straight-armed, holding the covers clamped to her side as if she expected him to peek at virtues he’d only felt and imagined last night. Trailing a finger across the top edge of the sheet had only resulted in her pressing her arms closer to her sides. Though he’d laughed to himself at the time, he’d felt an unwelcome twist in his gut to think she didn’t trust him. Didn’t trust any man, and after what she’d been through in her short life, he couldn’t find it in him to blame her.

The coffee was ready before Maria put in an appearance in the kitchen. She flushed the moment they made eye contact, which brought out the devil in him. “How do you like it in the morning?”

Her eyebrows arched, two dark winged questions above her pansy-colored eyes.

“Coffee, how do you like it in the morning, black or white?”

“White. If I have time to swallow it, I just remembered you live on a different bus route and I’ve no idea what time the bus arrives or where the bus stop is.”

He pushed a mug across the counter in her direction. With her glasses perched on the tip of her nose she looked more of a librarian than he’d first given her credit for. A very sexy librarian. “I’ve put in lots of cream to cool it down, but don’t rush, I’ll drive you to work and pick you up again tonight.”

She took a quick slurp of coffee and sighed. “Thanks, you’ve just saved my life twice, first with the coffee and then with the offer of a ride.”

“Don’t sweat the thanks, hon. I’ve nothing better to do except shop for basic groceries.”
And check on Randy’s whereabouts.

“I’m afraid I can’t offer you breakfast. I usually grab something on my way to work. But I can promise you something special tonight. The restaurant where we met is pretty good about sending up meals when I ask.”

She flashed him a wicked grin, assuring him she already knew the answer to her question. “And do you do a lot of entertaining?”

He came round the counter and took her empty mug from her hands and replaced it with a cell phone. “You’re the first woman apart from my sister. I eat a lot of meals on the run and while I get through work I’ve brought home. Don’t get me wrong, I’m capable of cooking for myself, but this less hassle and cuts down on burnt offerings and indigestion.”

“In that case, I accept with pleasure…and anticipation.”

“Yeah, that’s all right then. Take this cell phone wherever you go, as much for my peace of mind as yours. Just access the directory, like this.” He showed her. “My number’s top of the list. It’ll only take seconds to reach me. Here’s the ring I’ve set it to play.” The tinkling notes of “Greensleeves” filled the small silence. “Too loud?”

“No, it’s swell.” She studied his face as he passed her the cell phone. “I never had a guardian angel before.”

“Are you lookin’ at me?” He pointed a finger at his tough-looking unshaven chin. “Don’t get me wrong, but does this look like the face of an angel?”

Her smile said it all: she wasn’t taking any excuses.

“Okay, well, maybe on a bad day.”

“Thanks for seeing it my way.” She slipped the phone inside the purse that matched her suit and lightweight sensible shoes.

He compared how she looked to their first meeting. Okay, still goddess, but a very big businesslike one.

“I’ll feel safer knowing you’re only a call away,” she said and lifted her face to his. He dotted a kiss on the tiny black beauty spot by the corner of her mouth. Maria was learning fast. The only part of their relationship to worry him was that he could see it becoming too darn necessary for his comfort. Good sex will do it every time and he couldn’t remember ever having as good sex as he’d had last night.

Suddenly he felt as if life had just taken a gun and shot all his plans in the foot. The thought made him turn his back on her. He wouldn’t let it happen, wouldn’t let her get under his skin.

He shoved the mugs into the dishwasher and snagged his keys from his pocket. “We’d better get a move on. Wouldn’t want you to be late your first day back at work.”

“That’s no problem. Since I’m in charge while the others are on holiday, I’ll just write myself a note.”

Marie was glad to lock the glass doors of Tech-Re-Search behind her. When had a day ever dragged out so long? Never. But then, this was her first day back at work since she’d met Franc.

She looked up and down the street for his car. It was busier than usual, petrol and diesel fumes clogged the air with not even a whisper of a breeze to blow them away. There would be crowds of people in town exchanging gifts that were no use to them, or didn’t fit, or were just plain ugly, she realized, remembering the ornament that Luke, her eldest nephew, had bought with his pocket money for Mamma.

Not that Mamma would part with it for love or money. Maria knew her mother of old. Some of her own disastrous purchases still held pride of place at Falcon’s Rise.

She stepped closer to the edge of the pavement in case Franc’s was part of the large crush of cars cruising the block.

That’ when she felt the cold trickle of fear, the icy fingers caressing her spine that stole her breath away. She turned on her heel, wildly looking around, her eyes darting here then there as she groped inside her purse for the cell phone. Darn contraption was so small it must have slid down to the bottom.

In her haste, her shoulder hit something fleshy and human. She could tell from the gasp. Not Randy, thank the Lord!

Then as her gaze lifted past a dark jacket, shiny with wear, past the buttonless black shirt, her eyes latched onto the white dog collar, and she prayed she hadn’t uttered her thanks out loud. “Oh, please forgive me, Father.”

The unexpected lurch into the priest had thrown her off her stride, but when she received a smile instead of a frown for her almost knocking him over, she calmed down.

An Australian twang shaped his vowels as he pondered the advisability of her remark with an “I’ll forgive you, but I’m doubtful if the street is the right place to take confession.”

There was a familiar tilt to his head and she’d wondered where they’d met. Maybe he’d been a visiting choirmaster or a priest who’d taken Mass while she was at school, or maybe she glimpsed him in passing and not paid much notice. “Have we met?”

“I shouldn’t think so. I’ve not long arrived in New Zealand from Melbourne to take up the position of chaplain at the hospital. And besides that, I’m not a Catholic priest, so you don’t have to call me Father. Reverend or Chaplain will do.”

“Oh? You look like someone I knew a long time ago, but I can’t remember his name. It will probably come to me when I’m thinking of something else.”

“Maybe you’ve passed me in the street when I’ve been visiting Saint Andrew’s. It’s not more than a block away and it’s the parish church of some of the poor I have to deal with in my work at the hospital. So many have no money or home to call their own.”

“How awful. Bad enough anytime of the year but at Christmas…to be without family. Here, let me give you something to help.” She reached into her purse, and as she felt for her wallet, Franc’s cell phone slipped into her hand.

“I should think a pretty girl like you would have more urgent things to spend her money on,” he said, but as she slid twenty dollars from her wallet, his hand came out to take it.

“Maybe I should be asking how I could help you. You looked distressed before. That’s why I came over, to ask if I could help. Then as you turned, you bumped into me.”

Maria denied her fears as if they had never been, had never sent panic into overdrive. Why did it seem worse now, as if somehow she had more to lose? Before she came to a conclusion, she heard Franc calling her name.

“Maria.”

She spun round, the chaplain forgotten as the moment she’d been waiting all day for began to play out.

“Over here.” Franc’s voice came closer.

She caught sight of him crossing the last few feet of roadway. “This is who I was waiting for.” She threw the chaplain a over her shoulder. “I thought he’d gotten lost.”

Then he was there, pulling her into his arms, and the scent of him washed over her like a balm, soothing all her worries.

Franc pulled away, as if the chaplain standing next to her had only just pierced his consciousness. “The city is like a madhouse. You wouldn’t believe how far away I had to park. I hope you’re wearing your walking shoes, hon.”

His thick eyebrows rose in a question mark as if waiting for an introduction, a name, but she’d forgotten to ask for one, and before she could correct her mistake, the chaplain tipped his white summer straw hat with its black band, saying, “Thank you for the donation, I can see you’re in safe hands now. Goodbye.”

“What was that all about? What donation?”

She tried to instill lightness to her tone, but the memory of those anxious moments ran like a dark thread through her words. “I accidentally banged into him. Oh dear, I hit him with my shoulder, it must have hurt. So I gave him a donation for the poor street people he helps to salve my conscience.”

“Soooo, how come? It’s a wide sidewalk,” he said, stating the obvious. Nudging her for an explanation she’d been trying to avoid, knowing it might put a hex on the dinner she’d been looking forward to all day—just her, Franc and candlelight. She’d bought a couple of candles for the table.

“All right, you win. I had that feeling I was being watched again, and as I rummaged through my purse for the cell phone and tried to see where Randy was, I shoulder charged the priest. At least I thought he was a priest. But he’s only a reverend. Now, have I left anything out? No, I don’t think so.”

She left the word
satisfied
unsaid. Keeping the childish taunt for another day when Franc was giving off those over-protective vibes. He took the purse from her and looked inside. “Maybe you should throw away some of this stuff, then next time the phone will be easier to find.”