Tears of the Renegade (19 page)

He caught her mouth again, his tongue plunging deep
inside, stifling her desperate words as he placed her on the bed. If he had released her then, stepping back to remove his clothes, she might have had a chance, but he stayed with her. He covered her, his mouth taking hers with hard, deep kisses, while his hands delved under her skirt and peeled away her underwear. Stunned by his urgency, after a moment she forgot about the rift between them and held tightly to his neck, her slender body arching to him as he parted her thighs and fit himself between them. He paused a moment to adjust his clothing and insure her protection, then thrust deeply into her, the impact of his body making her jerk.

She wasn't the only one taken by surprise by his urgency. Cord had been unpleasantly surprised by the desperation that had knotted his stomach when she hadn't answered the door, and he'd had a vision of her sprawled lifeless at the foot of the stairs. Or someone could have broken in on her, and raped her before killing her. That last thought had made the hair on the back of his neck lift up, and he had been snarling silently as he pounded on the door. Then it had opened and she'd stood there, pale and silent, but obviously healthy, and his desire had bloomed with his relief. He had to have her right then, bury himself in her and satisfy his body as well as his mind that she was still there, still healthy, and still his. The taste of her, the silken feel of her under his hands, the intimate clasp of her body, were all that could drive the fear from his mind. He luxuriated in his possession of her, feeling her response building and the tension in her growing tighter, and the knowledge that she wanted him, that he could satisfy her, was a pleasure as great as that he was taking from her soft flesh.

Susan heard the soft little whimpers in the back of her throat, but she was powerless to stop them, powerless to control her body. She reached blindly for satisfaction, her fingers clenched in his hair, her body arching up to meet his. He was crushing
her, yet she didn't feel his weight; his heavy shoulders and chest were holding her down, yet she was soaring high and free, everything forgotten except for this moment in time. She was completely physical, yielding to his rampant masculinity and demanding that he give her all of himself.

He caught her legs, pulling them high to coil them around his back, and the whimpers turned into sharp, breathless cries. Deliberately he paced his movements, keeping her on the edge but not allowing her to go over it, not wanting the act to end. His strong hands on her hips controlled her, guided her, held her when she would have taken over the rhythm he'd set. She clenched her teeth on the agony of pleasure that boiled in her; then suddenly it was too much to be held in, and she heard the words of love that she gasped, the words that she'd always longed to say but had held inside.

A rumble in his chest and the tightening of his hands on her flesh signaled the end of his control, and he began to thrust hungrily into her. Instantly an incredible heat exploded inside her, washing through her with ever-widening waves, making her shudder beneath him. She sank her teeth into his shoulder in an effort to control the sounds she was making, and the primitive, sensual act pushed him over the edge. Short, harsh cries tore from his throat as his satisfaction thundered through him, and he clasped her to him with a wild strength that made her gasp for breath, as if he could meld her flesh with his for all time. When he'd finished, he slowly relaxed until he lay limply on her, his body still quivering with small aftershocks. She smoothed his sweat-damp hair, her fingers gentle on his moist temple. His hot breath seared her throat, and she felt the flutter of his eyelashes against her skin as he began to doze.

But he lay there for only a moment before rousing himself and gently moving from her. He rolled heavily onto his back and lay there, one brawny forearm thrown over his eyes.

Susan lay beside him, tension and dread growing in her again now that the appetites of her body had been satisfied. She should never have let that happen, not tonight, not when she had so much on her mind. And she had told him that she loved him. He couldn't have misunderstood her; it seemed to her that the words still lingered in the air, echoing with ghostly insistence. Would he say anything, or would he just ignore what she'd said? He hadn't asked for any commitment from her any more than he'd offered one. He probably wasn't even surprised; it couldn't be the first time that a woman in his arms had cried out that she loved him.

Caught in her misery, she was only half-aware when he left the bed. The sound of running water caught her attention, and she opened her eyes to look at him through the open door of the bathroom as he stood drinking deeply from a glass of water. His strong brown throat worked as he appeased his thirst. He'd already straightened his clothing, she saw, and her hands clenched into fists. He'd be leaving now that his sexual appetite had been satisfied.

He came back and stood over her, his level dark brows lowered over eyes so pale and fierce that she almost flinched from them. “You scared the hell out of me,” he said flatly. “Why didn't you answer the door?”

Restlessly, she sat up, and flushed wildly when she saw that her skirt was still tangled above her waist. Quickly she fumbled with the cloth, straightening it and pushing it down to cover her nakedness, an act that sparked a flash of fury in his eyes. But when she darted a glance up at him, she saw only the same iron implacability that had been there before as he waited for an answer. Pushing her tumbled hair back from her face, she said in a dull tone, “You bought up a loan against us and called it in.”

Silence lay thickly between them for a long moment; then he sliced it by saying harshly, “You're not involved in that.”

A laugh broke from her throat, a laugh that was almost a sob, and she got quickly to her feet, leaving the bed where she had given herself to him so thoroughly. For a moment she feared her legs wouldn't hold her, but after an initial wobble she regained control of them and moved a few paces away from him. “I have to be. You know that everything is tied together. If you attack them financially, you're attacking me financially. If you bankrupt them, you bankrupt me.”

“You don't have anything to worry about. I'll take care of you.”

The cool arrogance of his words almost made her choke, and she whirled on him in disbelief. “Is that supposed to make it all right? You'll reduce me to a…a kept woman, and I'm supposed to be grateful?”

One dark eyebrow quirked. “I don't see your problem,” he said, and added with casual cruelty, “after all, you said that you love me.”

She winced, unable to believe he'd attacked her so soon, even though she'd put the weapon in his hand. Suddenly she was too close to him, and she put the width of the room between them, withdrawing from him as far as she could. She bent her head, unable to look at him and face the contemptuous knowledge that she knew must be in his eyes. “Would you…would you actually push us all into bankruptcy just to get back at Preston? Even knowing that a lot of other people are involved, that they'd lose their jobs?”

“Yes.” His voice was hard, as hard as he was, and the last vestige of hope died in her. Until then there had been one small shred of faith left; she had been able to hope that he was only punishing Preston and would stop before things went too far.

“You'd be hurting yourself!” she cried. “How can you do this?”

He gave a negligent shrug. “I've got other things to fall back on.”

She'd begged before, with no result, but now she was reduced to doing it again. “Cord, stop this! Please! Don't push it until it's gone too far. When will you be satisfied? After you've ruined us all, then what? Will it have brought Judith back for you?”

His face turned into stone, and his eyes narrowed. Wildly, goaded by her own pain, she lashed out at him, sensing that she'd found a way to wound him. “You're just trying to ease your own guilt about Judith, because of your part in what happened to her—”

With a growl he strode across the room, seizing her before she could dart to the side and avoid him. His hands bit into her shoulders and he shook her lightly. “Shut up about Judith! I made a mistake in telling you about her, but you'll be making an even bigger one if you ever mention her to me again. For the last time, stay out of this.”

“I can't. I'm already in it.” She stared up at him with eyes so huge that they eclipsed her entire face, eyes so filled with pain that any other woman would have been weeping uncontrollably. They were going to destroy each other, Cord and Preston, and she was helpless to stop it. There could be no winners in this family war, because when the bond of common blood goes bad, it causes a rift that can never be healed. She saw the chasm that was already widening between herself and Cord, and she wanted to scream out in desperate protest, but there was nothing she could do. She held herself rigidly in his painful grip, trying to control the shrieking agony that was tearing her heart apart.

His grasp on her eased, and he stroked his thumbs over the fragile ridges of her collarbones. “You're too soft for this,” he murmured to himself; then he eased her back into his embrace, shifting his arms to hold her against him. She was silent, letting herself rest against him because she hadn't the
strength to deny herself what she feared might be the last time he'd hold her like this. He bent his head to press his warm lips into the sensitive curve where her neck met her shoulder, and a delicious shiver ran over her body. Just like that, with only a casual caress, he was able to make her want him again. She loved him too much, too dangerously, because she could hold nothing of herself back. There was no way she could protect herself.

“Don't go back to work,” he instructed softly, brushing his lips against her hair. “Stay at home, and stay out of this. Vance left you secure, and whatever happens to Preston won't affect you at all.” His big hands stroked slowly over her back and shoulders, their effect on her hypnotic. “You said that you love me; if you do, you won't take his side against me.”

For a moment, for a weak, delicious moment, she wanted nothing more than to do just as he said, to let his hard embrace protect her and make her forget all other considerations. Then she stiffened and slowly pushed herself away from him, her face taut and pale.

“Yes, I love you,” she said quietly, because there was no use in trying to hide it from him any longer. How could she deny it, when her body told him the truth every time he touched her? “But I have to do whatever I can to stop you from bankrupting the family.”

His eyes narrowed. “You're choosing him over me?”

“No. But I think you're wrong in what you're trying to do, and if you won't stop, then I have to help him fight you.”

Black fury gathered in him, sparking out of his pale eyes, but he held it in. “Is it asking too much for you to trust me in this?” he rasped, watching her carefully.

“The same way you trust me?” she shot back. “You told me yourself, just a moment ago, that you're trying to bankrupt us! Is that supposed to reassure me?”

He gave a derisive snort, the fire in his eyes turning to ice. “I should've known! You spouted that garbage about loving me,
then
you asked me so sweetly to ease up on Preston. You're good in the sack, baby, the best I've had, but you don't have that kind of a hold on me.”

“I know,” she whispered blankly. “I've always known that. But I wasn't trying for any emotional blackmail. I think…I think you'd better go.”

“I think you're right.”

As he moved past her, she blinked at him with eyes suddenly blurred by a film of tears. He was going, and she knew he wouldn't be back. “Goodbye,” she choked, feeling herself shatter inside.

He gave her a grim look. “It's not goodbye, not yet. You'll be seeing me around, though you'll wish you weren't.” Then he was gone, lightly taking the stairs with graceful bounds. Slowly she followed him, and she reached the door in time to watch the red flare of the Blazer's taillights disappear as he rounded a curve. She shut the door and locked it, then methodically moved about and made certain the house was secure for the night. She even sat down and watched the late movie until it went off, then realized that she hadn't absorbed any of it. She didn't even know the name of it, or the names of the actors. She hadn't been thinking of anything, just sitting there, her mind numb. She wanted it to stay numb, because she knew that when the numbness wore off, she was going to hurt more than she could bear.

She went through the motions of going to bed; she showered and put on her nightgown, moisturized her face, neatened up her bedroom and put her discarded clothing in the laundry basket. Then she lay in bed until dawn, her eyes open and staring at the ceiling. He was gone.

He was gone!
It was a litany of pain that echoed through her endlessly, an inner accompaniment to the gray, dreary days that followed. The sun could have been shining; she simply didn't know. But she couldn't see any sunshine, and she functioned only through instinct and sheer grim determination. She'd kept going after Vance's death, and now the same steely determination kept her upright even when she wanted nothing more than to collapse in a corner of her bedroom and not ever come out again.

She'd had to accept the bleak truth of Vance's death because she had seen his lifeless body, had buried him. It was worse with Cord. He was gone from her, yet he seemed to be everywhere. They met at several functions, and she had to act as if it didn't almost double her over with pain to see him. He was usually with Cheryl, of course, though she heard that he wasn't limiting himself to the other woman. She had to see him, had to listen to him say all the polite things while his icy eyes cut her, had to watch him slide his arm about Cheryl's waist, had to imagine him kissing the other woman, touching her with his hot, magic fingers, drawing her beneath him in his big bed at the cabin.