The Fairest of Them All (15 page)

“Tell me about this group that’s coming tomorrow. How’d you find them?”

“They found me.” She felt him lift his hand to her hair and sift his fingers through it. The motion was simple, yet mesmerizing. She sighed. “They’re associated with Central Tennessee’s Women and Children’s Center, and they sent out a letter asking for volunteers to head up their different support groups.”

“So, are you gonna volunteer?”

His low, soothing voice overrode her usual discomfort in discussing this particular subject. She shook her head. “I don’t think I could. I’d probably only make matters worse if I told them my story.”

His hands moved to her shoulders. “I thought you handled it real well. You didn’t cry very much.”

“Only at night,” she murmured. An evening breeze brushed over her, and with the heat of Russ’s warm, solid chest at her back, she felt safe. “At first, Daniel would come and try to comfort me, but Eunice made him stop. She said it would spoil me. I’m not sure Daddy ever heard me.”

His hands paused for a second, then he gently brushed his fingers around her neck and under her jaw. “Eunice was a tough woman.”

Carly closed her eyes and nodded. “I tried to get her to like me, but there was no pleasing her. It was hard for her to look at me. Hard for Daddy too,” she admitted. “You know, Eunice was in a rough situation with eight kids to manage. And Dad never got over my mother. Eunice knew that. I think it made her bitter. And looking at a miniature of the woman who held my father’s heart must have been torture. But ...” She paused, remembering her confusion, the sting of rejection.

“But?” he prompted gently.

“But I was just a little girl and I didn’t understand what was going on until I was sixteen or seventeen. I was sure there was something wrong with me.”

“Don’t think that. It wasn’t you.”

His voice was reassuring, but the memories bubbled inside her like a witch’s cauldron. It was unfinished business that could never be resolved. She fought against the unsatisfied need inside her.

She turned to face Russ. “She just couldn’t love me. That’s why we can’t—”

Shaking his head, he covered her mouth with his hand. “Eunice was bitter. It’s not the same thing at all, Carly.”

She grabbed his shoulders. “But it feels the same.” She thought of his divorce but couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“It’s not. You’re gonna have to trust me on this.” Then he caught her jaw and lifted it, and stared into her eyes as if he were making a commitment.

His callused thumbs moved gently over her cheeks and eyelids, caressing her, speaking without words. In a slow, careful motion, he lowered his head and cherished her lips with his mouth and tongue. She’d exposed her secrets, and his tender touches weakened and nurtured her. There was a sweetness about him that moved her until it hurt.

When his hands skirted down her neck to her breasts and he changed the angle of his kiss, she tried to pull away. “This is wrong. We need to stop,” she said, breathlessly, and turned her head from him. She stiffened her resolve.

“Let me do this. I, I need to.”

The hesitation in his voice vanquished her resistance. She wished he’d used any word but need because the idea of Russ needing her made her head swim. Need was deeper than want, closer to love.

“I need to do this for you, Carly. Now.” He brushed his lips against her hair. “Tonight.”

If he’d ordered or demanded, she could have found the strength to walk away, but there was something rich and unselfish in his manner that asked, yet didn’t insist. She was helpless against it. “Oh, Russ,” she murmured.

Beneath her palms, his chest expanded in a deep breath. “Let me take care of you.”

And because Carly had always been recklessly hopeful, she pretended that Russ loved her. It was easy in the dark, with his warm hands and mouth caressing her. The secret fantasy made her weightless. She felt the slide of his fingers on the inside of her tank straps against her skin, edging slowly closer to her breasts, and she shivered.

“Cold?” he murmured, dropping light teasing kisses behind her ear, as his fingers fell just short of her turgid nipples.

Carly shook her head and arched against him. Her breasts were already heavy. When he finally touched her, she sighed in relief. He rolled the peaks between his thumb and forefinger, praising her response. A restlessness deep inside her grew, and she wanted to be close to him.

She pressed an openmouthed kiss against the throat that had captivated her earlier. She touched it with her tongue and earned a shudder of male approval. Russ pulled her onto his lap, pushed up her tank top, and rested his cheek against her heart.

Her breath caught. The gesture was so artless and intimate. Then he skimmed his mouth across her breast to her nipple and suckled. Carly could have wept.

Her vision blurred as he moved his mouth from one breast to the other, gently nipping and flicking his tongue over her. One of his hands cupped her hips, rubbing her against his hard denim-covered arousal, back and forth until she was liquid heat between her thighs, ready and wanting.

She trailed her hands down his chest, past his rib cage, past his abdomen, to his belt buckle.

He shook his head. “Just this once, trust me.” Then he captured her hands and turned her around so that her rear end was wedged against his thighs. She squirmed in protest and he groaned. “Give me a break, lady.”

“But, what—”

“Shh.” He nuzzled her neck and lazily skimmed his fingers up one of her thighs, underneath her roomy shorts. He lifted the elastic barrier of her panties and found where she was achingly, embarrassingly moist for him. She turned her head into his shoulder. Her skin was so hot, she felt like a branding iron.

“You’re sweet,” he muttered as he palmed her, “and warm. I want to do so many things to you, I don’t know where to start.”

Carly tried to say something, but her mind went blank when he gently slipped his finger inside her. A moan escaped her lips as he probed and explored her. With masculine fascination, he stretched and coddled her, praising her femininity until she bit her lip against the tension. Each thrust took her closer and closer to release until she was twisting her head from side to side.

“What is it?” he asked in a low voice.

“I need,” she gasped as he pressed another finger inside her. “I need to do something. I need to kiss you, to touch you.”

He nudged her head around and she found his mouth, kissing him and tasting him. He moved his thumb against her swollen bud, and she jerked as the ripples began. They consumed her like a roaring fire in a tunnel. She bucked, whimpering into his mouth, feeling the uneven spasms go on and on until at last the surge passed and she was left with warmth and weak relief.

It took a couple of moments and several shakily drawn breaths before Carly realized that although Russ’s hands were now soothing, he was still hard with arousal. She turned in his arms and looked into his unreadable eyes. Confused and unsure of what to do, she slid her hands down to his belly and worried the edge of his jeans with her fingers. When he stilled her hands, she was overcome with bewilderment.

“Don’t you want to, I mean, you’re still . . .” She sighed in frustration. “We’re not finished, are we?”

He brought her hands to his mouth and kissed them. “Yeah, I want to,” he reassured her. “Yeah, I’m still hard. But we’re finished for tonight.” He put her hands on his cheeks and closed his eyes, savoring her touch. He tried to sort it out, but it was too profound having Carly in his arms tonight. It was scary. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I needed to give you this tonight. It wasn’t sex. It was something else.” He opened his eyes. “Are you okay?”

Carly had never felt more vulnerable. “I’m okay, just a little embarrassed.”

He shook his head. “No embarrassment allowed. You were beautiful. You are beautiful.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

And to Carly, it was
almost
as if he loved her.

“People say it all the time and it doesn’t mean a thing.” Russ jerked his car to a stop. He didn’t understand it, wouldn’t attempt to articulate it, but after being with Carly, he felt as though he were walking around stark naked. Sharing her vulnerability left him feeling defenseless, and the unfamiliar sensation confused and agitated him. How the hell had they gotten on this subject on the short drive from the riverboat? He couldn’t blame Carly. She looked a little off kilter herself.

“Some people mean it,” Carly insisted.

Disgusted, he shook his head. “This is crazy.”

“Then, maybe I’m crazy.” She met his gaze with turbulent violet eyes. “Maybe that means I’m not the right woman for you. Maybe you need someone who doesn’t care whether you love her or not.”

Fury raced through him. He clenched his jaw. “I know my own mind. I know who the right woman is.”

She set her chin. “Well I’m not sure.” Then she got out of the car and slammed the door behind her.

Russ swore in exasperation, going after her. “Carly, wait up. For Pete’s sake, what happened? One minute you’re coming apart in my arms—”

“Don’t remind me,” she muttered, stomping up the stairs.

“Remind you!” Why didn’t she just stab him? Russ swore again and rushed ahead, beating her to her door. “Something happened between us tonight. Something special. And you want to forget it?”

Carly crossed her arms over her chest. “It was special,” she admitted, “but there needs to be more.”

He took a deep breath. They needed to slow down. He’d lost control. That’s why they were in this mess. He needed to think logically. There was a practical solution to this, and he’d find it. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about feelings. Not just mine. Yours. I sat there and spilled my guts tonight, and you did something beautiful afterward. But do you realize I can count on one finger the number of times you’ve ever discussed something that was emotionally important to you?”

Russ felt an immediate ripple of discomfort. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. The idea of discussing his emotions made him itchy. He’d rather clean a truckload of fish. He looked at her face, full of vulnerability and determination. She wasn’t going to budge on this. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, he told himself. Either way, he had no choice.

“Okay,” he conceded finally. “What do you want to know?”

She licked her lips and appeared to muster her courage. “I want to know how you feel about your first marriage.”

Russ’s wall of protection immediately rose higher than Jacob’s ladder. “That was over years ago. It’s a closed book.”

A long silence followed, and Russ realized he’d made a mistake. She wanted him to bare his soul, but God help him he just couldn’t. To discuss the biggest failure of his life with the woman he wanted to marry was untenable. He searched her eyes for compassion. He prayed for understanding. But she looked away.

“Thanks for helping with Matilda’s Dream, Russ.” She collected the keys from her purse.

He was being dismissed, he realized with a twisting ache in his gut. “Carly, we can talk later. I’ll be harvesting for the next few days, but after that . . .”

She gave a noncommittal shrug, and when he sensed her disappointment, he was stricken with regret. She looked disillusioned, and he felt guilty, helpless, and angry all at once.

“Good night, Russ.”

He watched her turn her back and walk into her apartment, resisting the urge to reach for her. What could he say or do that would help? “Good night, Carly,” he murmured to her closed door.

Carly stared at her bedroom ceiling. She closed her eyes and waited for her body to get smart and go to sleep. She concentrated very hard for two minutes. When her thoughts turned to Russ, her eyes flew open again.

She had to do something soon. They couldn’t continue this way. It was wrong for Russ to expect her to brush aside her concerns about love just as it was wrong for her to expect him to change. She ran her hand across her forehead and squelched the futile wish that things could be different.

The telephone rang, breaking the silence. Her heart raced and she looked at the clock. After midnight. No good calls ever came after midnight.

Stumbling over the bedcovers, she jerked up the phone. “Hello.”

“It’s Russ. There was a fire in Daniel’s barn. He’s gonna be okay, but we’re at the emergency room. He burned his hands.”

Carly’s thoughts tripped over one another. “How bad are his hands? Are you sure he’s okay? What about the animals?”

“The barn burned to the ground, and I had to put down one of the horses.”

“Oh, no.”

“Daniel’s got first-degree bums.” His voice was gruff. “He’ll be wearing bandages for a while.”

Carly went numb at the thought of Daniel’s injuries. She’d lost too much at an early age to take an accident of this magnitude in stride. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she said, groping for a pair of jeans.

“Carly, we don’t need any more accidents tonight. You sound kinda shaky. Do you want me to come and get you?”

“No.” Her nerveless fingers fumbled with the zipper. “I need to get there. You’re sure he’s okay?”

“He’s okay. I swear.” Russ paused. “Be careful.”

“I will.” She hung up the phone, jerked off her nightgown, and pulled on a T-shirt. She grabbed a pair of shoes and her keys and ran to the car.

Within minutes, she arrived at the small local hospital. She looked for Russ and instead found Troy. Troy was shaken and covered in soot, but otherwise unhurt. “You’re a mess,” he said.

“You smell horrible,” she said, tears of relief filling her eyes. “Where’s Daniel?”

“This way. They gave him something for the pain, so he’s out like a light.” He led her down the hall to where Daniel lay sleeping.

Carly felt for his heartbeat. It was ridiculous, but necessary to her. She touched his forehead and gently kissed him on the cheek. Then she backed away and willed herself to calm down. “Do you know how it happened?”