To Love a Man (7 page)

Suddenly Lisa’s shocked brain regained its ability to function.
Move!
it screamed, and she did, her mouth dry as she contemplated the test he clearly intended to administer. Hastily she scrambled to her feet, her hands shaking as she dragged the blanket from the cot and wrapped it securely around herself, tucking the ends into the hollow between her breasts. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow this to go any further; not like this, as an experiment into the state of her sexual readiness, for God’s sake! If she allowed it to happen, his taking of her body would be nothing but a barbaric act of domination, the age-old mastery of the female by the larger and stronger male. Why was she so horribly tempted?

Lisa bit her lower lip as she looked at Sam again and saw that he was now completely naked. Her hands came up to clutch the joined ends of the blanket covering her as he returned her look blandly, his mouth twisted into the merest suggestion of a sardonic smile. Of their own accord her eyes ran swiftly over his body, touching on the broad shoulders and widen muscled chest before following the beckoning trail of thick black hair downward past narrow hips and across a flat belly to long, powerfullooking legs. His upper body was deeply tanned, she saw with a curious little shiver, and so were the lower two-thirds of his legs. Which left quite a lot of pale skin in between . . . All at once Lisa realized what she was doing. Horrified, she jerked her eyes away from him. Her face crimsoned.

“It’s a little late to play at being shy,” Sam taunted softly.

Lisa’s eyes flew to his face. It was hard, implacable. Her eyes flickered away again. To tell the truth, she
was
shy, she thought unhappily. Jeff had had a thing about privacy, and the few times they had actually made love he had insisted on complete darkness. Lisa had never really gotten a good look at him without his clothes. Her knowledge of the appearance of the male body was pretty much limited to some sexy pictures she had seen once in a women’s magazine she had taken unknowingly from a drugstore shelf. As she had flipped through the pages with idle curiosity, her shocked, fascinated gaze had been riveted by a layout of a bronzed, hairy, nude male. Almost instantly she had slammed the magazine shut, replacing it on the shelf with a guilty look around, hoping no one had seen her. But for months afterward her mind had returned at odd moments to re-create the disturbing image. . . . The embarrassing, unbelievable fact of the matter was that she had never really seen a naked man. Certainly not a man as blatantly, boldly naked as this one was, standing so casually before her with the increasing gloom of the tent’s interior doing nothing to disguise his flagrant masculinity. He looked so tall, so strong, so very male, with his corded muscles and look of limitless strength, that Lisa was suddenly more aware of herself as a woman than she had ever been before in her life. And at the moment, his body was telling her in a way that was impossible to mistake that he wanted her. . . .

“Come here, Lisa.” The words were quiet. Sam’s eyes glittered brightly blue as she looked up to meet them. Lisa swallowed, realizing with some distant part of her brain as she did so that her throat was beginning to ache quite badly. Then she took an instinctive step backward.

“You know you want to.” There was a wealth of meaning in Sam’s voice. Lisa mutely shook her head, backing another few paces. Her eyes never left his face. At her movement, his black-shadowed jaw clenched, and his mouth, beneath its faint smile, grew hard. Those blue eyes, as they watched her, seemed to freeze over.

“If you put me to the trouble of fetching you, you’ll regret it.” The threat was silky smooth, but it was unmistakably a threat. The smile had faded. Lisa felt the rhythm of her heartbeat increase as she faced the unwelcome fact that he could indeed make her regret it. With a sensation too complex to define, she realized that she was completely at his mercy.

“Look, this is silly. Either way, it’s not going to prove a thing,” she said jerkily, hoping to distract him from his purpose. She was very much afraid that if he touched her, she wouldn’t be able to resist. . . .

“I said come here!” There was no question that he meant it, and meant her to obey. Still, Lisa tried once more.

“If you would . . .”

“Come here, damn you!”

Lisa looked at him mutinously. His blue eyes were as cold and glittery as glaciers. A muscle twitched warningly in his jaw. She realized that she had pushed him as far as he would be pushed; to defy him further could be hazardous.

“Oh, all right,” she muttered ungraciously. Her head was high as she moved toward him. She didn’t stop until she was close enough so that he could reach out and touch her.

“Now, would you please . . .”
Listen to reason
was what she meant to say. She found herself addressing her words to the pulse beating with heavy insistence at the base of his brown throat, because she was suddenly, ridiculously unable to look either higher or lower. Ruthlessly he cut her off.

“Drop the blanket.”

This brought Lisa’s eyes up to his in a hurry. To her dismay, she saw that they were frozen, a diamond-hard layer of ice lit at the backs by a leaping blue fire.

“N-no.” Lisa, taken aback, uttered the negative instinctively. Then, as his eyes narrowed, she realized that she would have done better to be a shade more diplomatic in her reply. Still, she could not, would not, do as he said. It was time that she called a halt to this nonsense. He must be made to understand that she was not some little nobody whom he could order about and treat as he willed. Her green eyes met his bravely as she planned what she would say to make her position clear to him. Her hands clutched the blanket for dear life.

“Drop the blanket!”

The command cracked gunshot sharp. Startled, Lisa jumped about a foot in the air. Her hands nervelessly released their death grip on the blanket. It crumpled into an untidy heap at her feet. Stunned speechless by her unplanned capitulation, Lisa gaped down at her body. Her eyes then flew to Sam’s face. She was made scaldingly aware of her nakedness and the effect it was having on the man studying her by the sudden flare of undisguised lust in the eyes that ran comprehensively over her. As Sam’s gaze roamed with devastating thoroughness over every exposed inch of her skin, Lisa felt hot color creep into her cheeks. It was stupid and childish to feel so embarrassed, she knew. After all, the man had, by whatever quirk of fate, been her lover once already, and earlier this afternoon he had certainly seen all of her that there was to see. But she couldn’t help it. This—this hard assessment of her body made her want to crawl into the nearest hole and hide. Still, she was damned if she would cower before him like some Victorian maiden. Squaring her shoulders, she faced him proudly, challenge showing in her eyes.

“You are totally wrong in what you’re thinking, you know,” she said with what she felt was creditable composure. “Believe it or not, I certainly did
not
entice those—those animals to attack me. I was simply taking a bath in the creek. . . .”

Her voice trailed off, her bruised throat suddenly dry, when it became obvious that he wasn’t listening. His eyes were fixed hungrily on the golden globes of her breasts. Even as she broke off he was lifting a hand to trail his fingertips over the soft curves.

“Beautiful,” he murmured huskily. At his touch Lisa’s turncoat body betrayed her, her small, strawberry-pink nipples standing up like soldiers suddenly called to attention. Taking a deep shaky breath, she struggled to go on with what she had been saying.

“They were trying to rape me,” she got out distinctly, then reason fled as he cupped her breasts in his callused palms, running his thumbs lightly over the nipples. Lisa felt what was almost a physical pain deep in her belly. Her hands came up of their own accord to close around his strong wrists, attempting to still his maddening caresses. As she touched him he looked up in time to see her moisten her lower lip with the delicate pink tip of her tongue. He watched the tiny movement as if fascinated.

The passion that suddenly blazed in his eyes shook Lisa to the core. She closed her eyes in mute defense, then realized an instant later that she had made a tactical error. But by then it was too late. His mouth was on hers, hard and hot and compelling, kissing her with a fierceness that stopped her breath. Momentarily Lisa tried to resist, mentally scrambling for all the reasons why she should. It was worse than useless. Because, on the heels of more recent, shaming memories followed another one—the memory of a hard, thrusting body driving her wild. . . .

She was lost. She knew it even before her lips parted helplessly beneath his, before her mouth opened to admit the conquering warrior that was his tongue. As his arms closed around her waist to pull her against his nakedness, her own arms slid convulsively around his neck, clinging to him, her fingers ruffling through the thick black hair at the nape of his neck. She returned the kiss wildly, on fire for him, loving the feel of his body hair rasping against her soft breasts and stomach and thighs, loving the steely muscles of his back and shoulders as her hands ran over them with blind urgency, loving the taste of his mouth, the drugging heat and man-smell of his body. He bent her ruthlessly back against his arm as he kissed her, his big male body in complete control of her smaller female one. And she loved it. The knowledge was utterly shaming, totally unbelievable, but true.

His hands were moving on her skin, handling her with a rough expertise that left Lisa gasping. He stroked her breasts, his touch feather light, lingering over each quivering nipple until it throbbed and pleaded for his touch. Then his hands moved lower, caressing her slim waist and flat stomach as if he had all the time in the world. Finally his fingers crept lower still to find the soft mound of hair between her thighs. He laid his hand flat against what was rapidly becoming the pulsating center of her being. Lisa stiffened instinctively. Sam paid no attention to her sudden stillness; his fingers began to explore, and gradually Lisa relaxed. What he was doing to her felt so good, so right, that she was soon melting in his arms, leaning heavily against him as his big body supported her weight, letting him do with her what he would. Her eyes were tightly shut. She didn’t even hear the soft moaning sound rising from deep within her throat.

“Want me?” she heard him growl. Lisa had moved beyond reason, beyond shame, conscious only of the aching need he was deliberately arousing. Jerkily she nodded without opening her eyes.

“Say it,” he ordered softly. Lisa hesitated, held back by some last dim flicker of pride. Then he lowered his mouth to nuzzle gently at one soft breast.

“Yes, oh yes . . .” She gasped.

“Yes, what?” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “Yes. you want me, or . . .”

His mouth suckled seductively at her breast. Lisa felt heat spiral crazily inside her. Her hands came up to clutch at his head, holding it in place. Her one fear was that he would stop.

“Yes, I want you.” She surrendered without a struggle. She did want him, she thought hazily, so much. . . .

Sam swung her up in his arms, holding her cradled against his chest. Lisa clung to him feverishly as he carried her the few paces to the cot. Her head was thrown back against his shoulder, her delicately flushed face tilted up to his. Her eyes were closed so that her lashes formed feathery dark crescents against her cheeks. Desire for him was melting her bones; her heart was pounding so fiercely that she thought she might die of it. Her whole body burned in anticipation.

He stopped, still holding her possessively against his chest. Lisa waited for him to lower her gently to the cot. Nothing happened. After a moment she opened her eyes, puzzled, to find him looking down at her with an odd, half-rueful expression. She didn’t understand his look, but she certainly wasn’t in the mood to puzzle it out. Murmuring soft encouragement to him, she shamelessly pressed her tingling breasts against the hard, hairy wall of his chest. She was impatient, more than impatient, to experience again the ecstasy of his lovemaking. . . . She pressed nibbling little kisses into the curve of his neck. Still he didn’t move. Annoyed and faintly bewildered, she looked up at him questioningly. His eyes met hers. Then his mouth twisted mockingly, and he laughed.

Lisa froze. She was still staring up at him, her mouth slightly open, when she felt his arms drop away from her. Suddenly she was falling through space to land with a jarring thud on the cot. Stunned, she lay where he had dropped her. Her eyes blinked once or twice in shocked incomprehension as he turned away and unhurriedly began to dress.

“Sam . . . ?”

He had put on his shorts and was stepping into his pants, pulling them up over his muscular, hair-roughened thighs as Lisa watched with hungry bewilderment. He zipped them up, and was buckling his belt with careless hands when he finally looked up to meet her questioning gaze. Lisa was taken aback by the hostility she saw in those blue eyes.

“Honey, with a girl like you, the term
rape
doesn’t even begin to apply,” he said cruelly, then gathered up his shirt and gunbelt in one hand, swung on his heel, and strode from the tent.

Lisa felt as if she had suffered a crippling blow to her midsection. For long moments after he had gone, she lay huddled on the cot, feeling sick. It had taken her shocked brain only seconds to remember that Sam had deliberately set out to test her—to humiliate her. And, dear God, had he succeeded! Beyond anything he could have planned or imagined! She felt like crawling off and hiding under the nearest rock, never again to face the light of day. He had wanted her, she knew he had. She was not so innocent or naîve as to fail to understand the significance of the heat and throbbing strength of him. But he had kept a tight rein on his own appetites, while making her want him so much that she was willing to sacrifice pride, self-respect, everything in return for the physical satisfaction her body craved. He had made her beg for him, damn him to hell, and then he had laughed and turned away! The memory of every word, every touch, every sigh returned to haunt Lisa in all too vivid detail. She groaned, rolling onto her stomach to bury her face in the flat pillow. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut as she fought to exclude the images that tormented her. He had aroused her with cool calculation, she told herself despairingly, and she would never get over it—never. She would hate him for the rest of her life. If only she could get out of her mind the picture of herself naked in his arms, clinging to him shamelessly as she pressed hot little kisses into the salty brownness of his neck!