Page 14 of You'll Find Out
They drove for over an hour in the convertible, at first quietly, as if each might have suddenly regretted the impulsive dash away from the party. But as the black night sped by, and the minutes ticked forward, Shane began to talk and draw Mara out of her silence. Mara was entranced by the romance of it all—riding into the night with a virile, handsome stranger and casting aside all consideration for time or reality. She felt as free as the wind that caught her honeyed hair and brushed it in tangled waves away from her face. His words were serious and kind, and when he favored her with a smile that touched his eyes, the sound of her laughter was caught in the night wind and left in the darkness.
It was nearly midnight when Shane stopped the car. They were far from the city—light-years away from the real world—parked in the solitude by a wooded river. The moon cast a rippling slash of silver on the water and the stars dotted the sky. A light, midsummer breeze played with her hair and the faint fragrance of honeysuckle hung in the air.
Shane held her hand as they walked along the shore of the river. She leaned on him often as the heel of her sandals would slip against the rocks at the river’s edge. They spoke hesitantly and softly, as if the silence of the night were a fragile spell that they dare not break. He paused underneath the protective, needled limbs of a large pine tree, and in the darkness his hand pulled her more intimately to him. In the night, with eyes wide and searching, Mara read the silent passion in Shane’s features. His lips found hers in a tentative, gentle kiss, and she felt herself respond to the warm, enticing pressure of his mouth. The faint taste of brandy wet her lips, and she let herself lean against him as the hot burst of womanhood exploded in her body. The kiss, which started so tenderly, deepened in passion, and a dizzying, unreal sensation swept over her. Mara sighed deeply against Shane’s lips, yielding to the warm, liquid mouth that was enveloping her.
Suddenly he froze, and as he dragged his lips from her, he swore at himself under his breath. He rotated his head from hers, as if by gazing out into the distance, he could assuage the hunger of desire that ripped through his body.
Mara listened to her own ragged breathing, and she could almost see his body stiffen as she noted with a welling sense of disappointment that he was trying to escape from her and the yearnings of his body by putting a distance between them.
“Oh, God,” Shane groaned to himself and looked heavenward. “What am I doing?”
He glanced at her with eyes full of smoldering passion and put a protective arm across her slim shoulders. Tenderly he led her to the base of the pine tree, on a bed of soft boughs, and helped her into a sitting position against the trunk. He sat with his back braced by the tree. She sat, half-laid, in the warm cradle of his strong arms. Her pulse was running wild with surging heat through her body, and she leaned against him. Her heart pounded loudly in the silent, starry evening, destroying the peace of the night.
Time and rational thought had ceased. Mara was mesmerized by the soft night and the warm touch of the man who held her so intimately. His breath fanned her hair, and a musky scent invaded her nostrils. The whisper-soft kisses that he rained against the back of her neck teased her skin and heated her blood. Her pulse, already on fire, blazed through her veins.
“Mara,” his throaty voice murmured against her hair. “I want you . . .” It was an unnecessary admission, a fact as true as the night itself.
“I know” was the only response that would pass her lips. His hands on her shoulders were enticing, inviting. The evening was warm and seductive, and the pine tree hung over them, guarding them in its heavy, needled branches. Only a slight breeze disturbed the serenity of the nightfall by mildly moving the boughs.
“You’re beautiful,” Shane coaxed, and his fingers tickled her neck. “I know this is crazy—I don’t know how to describe it—but I need you, Mara. Not because you’re a woman, but because you’re unique . . . special. . . captivating. You’re you, and I want the most intimate part of you.”
“You don’t even know me,” she protested feebly, knowing that she was succumbing to the magic of the seductive night.
“But I do,” he whispered hoarsely, and she believed him. She believed the persuasive touch of his fingers against her skin. She believed the warm enticement of the night. And she believed the ragged sound of longing in his voice as it was torn from his throat in an admission of surrender.
His fingers found the buttons of her blouse, and she didn’t stop the tender exploration of his lips against her burning skin. She knew only that she wanted him and needed him, and she let him guide her into a new feeling of awareness. He taught her of a need so great that it was a consuming, unquenched ache that burned within her. They discovered each other, and Mara found for the first time in her twenty-four years the bittersweet yearnings and fulfillment of love. She found a satisfaction so strong that it dissolved the pain and replaced the ache with rapture. It was a night lost in the stars. The quiet lights of Asheville winked in the far-off distance while Mara experienced a night ridden with flaming desire and warm, molten surrender.
Dawn awakened her with its rosy warming rays, and Mara realized in the filtered sunlight that she could never love another man. Shane Kennedy, a virtual stranger, but most intimate lover, possessed her body and soul. The memory of the passion that they shared beneath the pine tree overpowered her with its intensity.
When she stirred, Shane opened a lazy eye and squinted against the filtered glare of the morning as it passed through the soft curtain of pine needles. A pleasant, enticing grin stole over his features as he watched with unashamed interest when Mara tried to conceal and cover her nudity. Embarrassment welled within her and she held the scanty protection of her blue chiffon blouse over her exposed breasts.
His dark eyes became serious. “Don’t!” he commanded.
“Don’t what?” she asked, feigning innocence.
“Don’t ever hide from me.” He tugged at the blouse and slowly pulled it out of her fingers. His eyes slid restlessly over her breasts and the directness of his gaze mingled with the cool morning air forced her nipples to harden into taut rosy buttons.
“I’m not . . . trying to hide,” she murmured, but her voice cracked with emotion and she lowered her head, letting the gilded curtain of her hair shelter her face.
With a groan, he hauled himself up to sit beside her. His face was close to hers, and his fingers cupped her chin in order that she meet his inquiring gaze. “What’s wrong?” he asked and she could feel his black probing eyes.
“I’m not used . . . to being . . . naked with a man,” she admitted huskily before closing her eyes and letting the flush of scarlet that burned on her cheeks speak for her.
“Well,” he mused, encircling her with his arms and giving her a bear hug. “I think that you should get used to it . . .”
She shook her head and feared that the tears gathering in her eyes would spill. “I can’t,” she whispered.
“Sure you can. You have a beautiful body, and you should be proud of it. You’re not ashamed, are you?”
She answered mutely with only her eyes, and bit her lip in order to choke back the sobs that were threatening to explode within her. Her head was rested on her knees for support, as she tried to fight back the storm of tears that threatened to overcome her.
“Mara.” His voice was firm. “Please look at me. Don’t push me away from you. Not now. Not ever! You mean too much to me.”
“You . . . don’t have to say . . .”
“Shh. I’m only saying what I mean,” he admitted solemnly.
Her eyes found his and she could feel herself begin to drown in the warmth and kindness that she saw in his face, a face that was virile and masculine yet softened with the innocence of recent sleep. His words were spoken slowly and deliberately, as if he had weighed their importance all night.
