Sinful Temptation (14 page)

So. Talia’s apartment.

As always, his curiosity about her got the best of him. He turned in a slow circle, taking inventory. This was a great place. Contrary to what he might’ve expected based on her choice in hair color, the apartment was quiet and serene. Its pale blue walls, huge windows and ivory sofas and love seats gave the effect of floating in the clouds.

She was fond of art, of course, with paintings lining every inch of the walls. None of them, he realized to his surprise, were hers. In fact…they were all beautifully framed Monet prints of water lilies, which added to the general peace.

She also had a bunch of flower bowls, family photos in fancy frames and stacks of coffee-table books all over the place, including on the marble hearth.

Over on the floor in the corner was a giant pillow with dog toys scattered around it, and the kitchen, on the other side of a granite bar, was full of high-end appliances and copper pots dangling from a ceiling rack.

She cooked, he remembered. She’d mentioned making a fantastic Christmas feast fit for a king in one of her letters to him, hadn’t she?

He wanted to be here with her this Christmas Day.

Man, did he want that.

Some of that intensity must have been written on his face, because she did a double take as she hurried back into the apartment, shutting the door behind her.

“What is it?” she asked, arrested.

She was beautiful. Every time he saw her, it surprised him anew.

Today she wore a chin-length wavy black wig that was pretty close to the style she’d had the day he met her. Her sleeveless dress was a blaze of blue that made her skin gleam and did something wonderful with her gray eyes, heightening the color until they sparkled with diamond brilliance. A pretty flush ran over her cheeks, and her plump lips were parted and kissable.

Inside him, need for her swelled and curled, tightened and burned.

She had some kind of crazy effect on him, this one did.

“Tony?”

“Ah.” He blinked. “Nothing. How’s Gloria? Did you catch her?”

“Yeah, but she insisted on going home. She’s a mess right now. As you saw.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugged, looking circumspect. “What can you do? People have to learn their own lessons, don’t they?”

“That’s very wise.” He sat on the arm of the sofa. “Who said that? Aristotle?”

“Talia Adams,” she said, grinning.

That smile tied him up in knots every single time. Was that the thing about her that had haunted him all this time? The smile? Or was it the kindness? The wisdom? If he identified what it was, could he root it out? Would he want to, if he could?

Nah. It was too late for any remedial measures like that.

“Really?” He cocked a brow. “And is Talia Adams the genius who told Gloria to get involved with a married man in the first place?”

“Absolutely not. You offend me, sir.”

“Is she going to be okay?”

“Okay? If by that you mean that she’ll dump the bastard, then no. I don’t think she’s ready to do that. I want her to, but she won’t listen to me. And there’s no reasoning with people when they think they’re in love, is there?”

That was a question he couldn’t answer.

Hell, the way he was feeling right now? It was best to keep his big fat mouth shut.

But he wasn’t so good with the poker face. Neither was she.

She stilled, meeting his gaze and reflecting back many of the unruly emotions that churned inside him. “What is it?” she asked again, taking a slow step toward him. “You weren’t thinking about Gloria when I came in just now, were you?”

Why lie? “I was thinking about you. It’s always you, Talia.”

The soft catch of her breath was like a feather across his belly. “I’m not sure I’m worthy of that much thought.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“Why are you so sure?” she asked quietly.

There was another unanswerable question. He could only shake his head.

“And what were you thinking about me, Tony? When I walked in?”

He opened his mouth, and out came more truth that he’d been prepared to speak.

“I was thinking that I’m trying to rebuild my life and become a solid person. I have nightmares and it doesn’t take a whole lot to throw me into a panic attack. Pretty much any sudden loud noise will do it. I’m just starting my career outside the army, and what I know about running an auction house wouldn’t fill a thimble. So I’m thinking I may be an abject failure.”

“No, you won’t—”

“So here’s my bottom line. I’m not really a treat for any woman right now. Especially a great woman like you—”

“Tony—”

“—and if I were any kind of man, I’d stay away from you because that’s probably best for you, and you deserve nothing but the best.”

Some of the light behind her eyes began to dim. “So. This is you saying goodbye?”

“I didn’t say that.”

A long second passed, during which the air shifted between them and began a slow sizzle that he could almost hear.

She edged closer again, coming within arm’s length, and a corner of that delicious mouth curved in the beginnings of a knowing smile. Did she know, then? Did she understand that, as far as he was concerned, she was the reason he’d come home from the war in one piece?

“Then what are you saying?”

He took a deep breath and leaped with his whole heart. “I’m saying I don’t want to want you this much.”

“But you do.”

“Oh, yeah. So I’m going to go with it. If that’s okay with you.”

She didn’t hesitate. “Oh, yeah.”

Relief swelled inside him, the sweetest feeling he’d ever known. “Good.”

“I have a quote for you. From
Rocky.
You’ve seen
Rocky,
right? If you haven’t, we may have to end things right now.”

“I’ve seen
Rocky.
”

“He’s trying to explain his attraction to Adrian, and he says something like, ‘Gaps. I got gaps, and she’s got gaps, and we fill each other’s gaps.’”

“Gaps, eh?”

“Gaps.”

Was that the moment? The moment when he knew, without a doubt, that he would marry this woman if she was crazy enough to have him? It sure felt like it.

Staring into those bright eyes of hers, it didn’t feel so scary.

“Come here,” he told her, opening his arms. “I think we need to discuss
Rocky
a little further.”

Chapter 10

T
ony’s gentle hands caressed her throat. With a serrated sigh, she let her head fall back and her eyes roll closed, happily surrendering her body and anything else he might think to ask for. He ran his thumbs over her veins, searching out her pulse, which had to be in the thousand-beats-per-minute range. When he found it, a low croon of approval vibrated in his chest, and he pulled her closer, until she was standing between his thighs. Gripping his heavy shoulders and hanging on for dear life, she waited…waited…until he leaned in and tipped his face up, pressing his hot tongue to her sensitive flesh.

Need made her cry out.

Happy to indulge her, he planted his hands on her ass and pressed her up against his rigid arousal, taunting her with what she could have if only he’d hurry up. At the same time, his tongue swirled, teasing her neck with wider and wider circles that made her unravel into more cries…more sensations…more insistent demands.

“Kiss me,” she murmured, lowering her head to catch his lips beneath hers. They watched each other, both heavy-lidded and drowsy-eyed, and she caught the groove of his dimples as he smiled, and the pink of his tongue before it slipped into her opening mouth.

Ah, God.

She thrust her own tongue and sucked him deeper, desperate to get him inside her skin and to be inside his. His mouth was slick and minty, and he used every part of it to drive her wild, nipping with his teeth, rubbing with his tender lips and searching with his tongue.

His hips, meanwhile, surged against hers, unerringly hitting that delicious spot between her thighs. His hands held her locked in place, giving her no way to hide from the rising pleasure. She writhed, needing to spread her legs and take all of him inside her, and needing it now.

If he knew it, he didn’t care.

“Tony, please,” she murmured, digging her nails into his nape.

“Please what?”

“Please don’t stop.”

“What else?”

“Please touch me.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

Those eyes gleamed up at her again, laughing now. “Can you be more specific?”

Damn him for making her say it. Why did she have to expose every single part of herself? “Do you want me to draw you a map?”

“I have a pen.”

Frustration made her smack him hard on the sculpted slabs of his chest, and he laughed and kissed her again, holding her as she tried to alternately beat him to death and squirm free.

Naturally, he didn’t let her go.

Still holding her around the waist, he stood and pressed her back onto the sofa, toppling over on top of her until they were pressed together from head to foot and nothing was funny anymore.

They stared at each other, both panting and startled by the sudden intimacy of the contact. He nipped at her mouth again, but his gaze went to the top of her head. His hands followed.

Oh, God. She knew what was coming.

“Do we need this?” he wondered, tugging at the wig.

Yes,
she wanted to say. That wig was a defense that protected her. When she wore it, she didn’t have to see a cancer victim in the mirror, nor did she have to endure the pitying stares of strangers when she walked down the street.

Without it, she was… What was she?

Naked? Vulnerable? Mortal?

“You’re beautiful,” he told her, gently tugging the wig and dropping it to the floor as though it was a meaningless collection of fibers, rather than one of the things that kept her sane and normal. “I don’t want hair. I just want you.”

To her pained embarrassment, she felt her face crumple, and there she went with the tears during sex. Again. But Tony didn’t seem to mind short, curly hair only a quarter inch longer than a buzz cut, and he didn’t mind the waterworks, either.

He stared down at her, his face dark and unreadable, and kissed both eyes and both temples. The bridge of her nose. Her forehead. The tip of her chin, and then finally—sweetly—her mouth.

She arched her back, relaxing and melting into the sofa.

Into him.

Into herself.

When he raised his head again, his lips were slick and swollen, and his eyes were also wet. “Where should I touch you?”

Oh, thank God. The rising need had taken her far beyond hesitation or shyness, and she couldn’t show him fast enough.

Taking the hand that was still cupping her face, she kissed his fingertips and then lowered it down between them. He shifted a little to one side, and she bent one knee so that the bottom of her skirt rose up to her bare thighs. Moving together, they reached for the waistband of her silky panties, and she lifted her butt so that he could slide them off her legs.

When he’d tossed the panties onto the floor, he skimmed his hands up under her skirt again, brushing his knuckles over the sensitized flesh between her legs until her hips arched. He answered this unspoken invitation by stroking his fingers in her creamy cleft, sending delicious spirals of pleasure to her belly and engorged nipples.

“Tony.”

He rubbed her again and again, his touch rhythmic and unerringly running over her aching sex, and she rose and fell against him, involuntarily reaching for her pleasure—

“You know,” he said, withdrawing his hand just when one more stroke would have sent her jackknifing into ecstasy, “I think I’ll start…
here.
”

Wait,
what?

Working on her dress from the top down now, he unbuttoned the collar—it was a mandarin style with piping and swirling dragons—and the bodice, slowly exposing her breasts in the sheer black silk of her bra.

And her scar.

Her hands came up automatically, wanting to cover the thick and puckered line where her skin had once been smooth and unmarked, but he caught her hands and lowered them out of his way. That gleaming gaze of his flickered up to her face, flashing a warning.

“Don’t.”

“But—”

With a smile that was gentle and encouraging, he threw her words right back in her face.

“Gaps, Talia. Remember? I have nightmares. You have scars. We both have gaps. Why can’t we help each other?”

Her chin tried to quiver, but she was finished with the tears.

He was right, wasn’t he? She’d faced down cancer. She wasn’t about to let some freaking little scar prevent her from enjoying the most beautiful experience of her life.

“Oh, you were listening, eh?”

He didn’t smile. “I always listen to you. I thought you knew that.”

She nodded, not trusting her voice any longer.

“So…is this okay?”

“Anything.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. With a low growl of masculine appreciation, he dove in, nuzzling his lips against her scar and loving every inch of it. The intimacy stunned her, trapping the breath in her throat, and there was no chance to recover. A flick of his fingers undid the bra’s front clasp, and then he brushed the cups aside, dipped his head and latched on, sucking one aching nipple into the hot center of his mouth.

A shocked, high note shot out of her before she could stifle it, and that drove him on. His mouth on one breast, he massaged the other, squeezing the nipple and then, when she thought she’d pass out if he didn’t give her a break, he switched.

Nonsense came out of her in an unstoppable stream.

“Ah, God.”

“Tony, you have to—”

“Please. Please. I’m begging you. Don’t make me—”

“I can’t take it. I can’t—”

Finally, he took pity on her. Reaching down between them again, he pressed his fingers to her sex, and she came, going off like a firework with spasming arms, writhing hips and curling toes. Muscles all up and down her body went rigid, arching her backward into the sofa’s armrest until it seemed like a possibility that her spine would snap.

Over her subsiding cries and whimpers, she heard Tony’s muttered curse and the sound of him fumbling around for something. Spent but determined not to miss anything, she cracked her lids open to see him unzip his pants and sheath his straining erection.

She’d been having trouble catching her breath. Now it got worse in the best possible way.
“Tony.”

Without answering, he gave her a long glance with those gleaming eyes of his. Then he was easing her legs apart and thrusting inside her body, starting the delicious torture all over again.

The only thing she could do was dig her nails into the flexing muscles of his ass and hang on for the relentless ride. He was wild and unabashed, almost frantic with his movements.

Braced on his forearms, he drove harder…deeper…his entire body straining and releasing with each pump of his hips. Tendons pulsed in his neck, and the muscles in his shoulders and chest stood out in stark relief beneath his sweat-slicked skin. Her name poured out of his mouth, hoarse and guttural. And he unerringly hit her swollen and sensitized sweet spot, winding her tighter and sending her higher than she’d ever been before.

Panting and mindless, she glanced down along the length of their moving bodies and saw the contrast between their skin, his dark to her lighter, and the way her legs encased him, holding him inside her body in a death grip, and the way the hard slabs of his chest flattened her breasts.

The intimacy and sensuality of it was overwhelming, and she watched, mesmerized, until—

“Tony.”

The pleasure, bright and piercing, shot through her, catching in her throat and lingering there, preventing her from making a sound.

But he knew.

He’d been watching her, and the last thing she saw before he leaned his head back and came with a raw shout, was the hint of smiling satisfaction in his expression.

And then he was rigid in her arms, gasping for air as he murmured her name one last time.

He went still, crushing her into the sofa with his dead weight.

She reveled in it. In him. In the earthiness of this moment, with the sweat and the musk and the pleasure between them.

Now, she decided, was the time.

So she kissed the side of his neck and caressed his nape, easing him back to life.

“Tony?”

“Mmm.”

“I went to the doctor today.”

His head shot up. He stared at her, the question in his dark eyes, but couldn’t seem to speak.

“The scans were all clear.”

He swallowed, nostrils flaring, and pressed his lips together.

She smiled, letting the joy fully come for the first time since she’d had her appointment earlier. “The cancer’s gone.”

“It’s…gone?” he echoed, voice cracking.

“Gone.”

He blinked.

She waited.

His expression slowly brightened, and a corner of his mouth edged up in a smile in the second before his face crumpled.

And then Tony, her fierce warrior, buried his head in the curve between her neck and shoulder, gathered her closer and sobbed with relief.

What—?

Talia snapped awake and blinked into her bedroom’s darkness, not certain what had woken her. The room was quiet and the clock’s digital display indicated dead of night. She rubbed her eyes, wondering if she’d had one of those falling dreams again, and—

Beside her, Tony moaned.

Wait, Tony? Here in her apartment?

She checked the other side of the bed.

Yeah. Tony.

It all came back to her in a rush, and instinct made her spring into action. He’d kicked off the linens and lay on his belly on the farthest edge of the king-size bed, perched at an angle that made her wonder why he wasn’t crashing to the floor. His arms and legs twitched. His face twisted. He moaned again, but this time the sound was more urgent, heading into wail territory.

She slid closer to him, flipping the covers back over him as she went. Crooning, she caressed his temple and kissed his cheek and neck, soothing him. His skin was icy, and there was only one solution for that. She stretched out alongside him, protecting him with her arms and legs and keeping him close.

He stilled, his forehead smoothing until he looked so boyish, innocent and vulnerable that it made her heart contract with emotions too overwhelming and frightening to identify.

And then, without warning, his lids flicked open.

He stared at her.

She waited, anxious to see which way this would go.

He smiled.

She gasped out a relieved breath. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“We’re going to work on those nightmares.”

A shadow crossed his eyes, but he nodded. Recaptured his smile.

“How does it feel to be back in a bed?” she wondered.

“Your bed? Pretty damn good.”

There was a jingle of tags near his side of the bed, and they glanced around to see Chesley. Apparently she’d been sitting patiently, but now, realizing that she had their attention, she whined, asking for permission.