Page 48 of You'll Find Out
Mara found herself clinging to him, clutching him, holding on to him as if she thought he might, once more, disappear into the night and be lost to her.Don’t leave me,she thought desperately.Please, Shane, don’t leave me ever again,but the words were lost in the passion of the night. The tears that had been threatening to spill all day came at last, unwanted. Her eyes filled, and although she fought to push them back, the salty droplets slid down the soft hills of her cheeks to moisten her lips and give the heated kiss the tangy flavor of her despair.
His body stiffened as he recognized that she was quietly crying. After a pause, as if he was trying to restrain himself, he moaned, and then softly, gently, never allowing their bodies to drift apart, he folded his knees against hers and drew her down to the dry, soft carpet of grass. Far away, a pale, craggy streak of lightning flashed against the mountains and the dull, echoing sound of thunder reverberated through the surrounding hills.
“What’s wrong?” Shane asked, his eyes guarded while his hands, with gentle strokes, smoothed the hair away from her face. With a wistful smile, he captured a tear from her eye on his finger and touched it to his lips.
She returned his smile with a wan imitation, and lay on her back, her crossed arms cradling her head. Shane lay, half sat next to her, his face bent over hers so closely that she could feel the warmth of his breath ruffling her hair and taste his heady, masculine scent that laced the air and lingered against her lips. His dark eyes showed nothing but genuine, intense concern, and all at once she saw the younger man that she had always loved so desperately. Did he know,could he feel,just how desperately she had loved him and agonized over him for the past few days . . . how much she had wanted him for the last four years?
“What isn’t wrong?” she countered, finally able to answer his probing question.
“Nothing is,” he corrected her and pressed a finger to her mouth, at first to silence her. But finally he surrendered to the longings in his body, and enticed her to open her lips and let him touch the inside of her. Slowly she complied, opening her mouth and accepting the exploring finger, letting the wild, suggestive impulses spark her blood. He touched her teeth, her gums, her tongue, and she reveled in the salty, bittersweet masculine taste.
His groan of surrender was primeval in intensity, and Mara felt him tremble with repressed passion. As the space of minutes lapsed he levered himself up on one elbow and with his free hand, opened the buttons of her blouse. The sheer fabric fluttered in the breeze to gape open in the filtered moonlight, an open invitation. He was entranced, filled with a need only she could fill, and while thunder rolled against the Blue Ridge, Shane moved over Mara and pressed his face into the dusky hollow of her breasts. “Oh, God, Mara,” he moaned, letting his weight press against her, “you’re beautiful!” With hands that trembled, he lifted the blouse away from her breasts and looked with naked yearning at the uneven pattern of her ragged breathing. Even through the flimsy fabric of her bra, the dark circles of her nipples pushed tautly upward, an anxious invitation to his hands and mouth.
Before touching either of the warm, supple peaks, he placed the palm of his hand over Mara’s trip-hammering heart, and felt the rush of desire coursing through her veins in its erratic, pulsating beat.
Gradually Shane’s hand moved. And while his eyes held hers, his hand slid over the lace of Mara’s bra, and brushed against the tip of her straining nipple. A long, low sigh escaped from Mara’s lips. And when through the soft fabric she felt his hot breath and warm, coaxing lips tease and brush her breast, she could stand no more of the bittersweet yearning. She arched her body up to meet his and let her fingers push his head more tightly to her breast, drowning in the sweet, warm, melting sensations that were oozing throughout her body.
“Oh, Shane,” she murmured, calling his name over and over into the furious night. His answering groan and shudder of surrender further added to the heightened feeling of desire that was making her lose all thoughts of anything other than fulfilling the burning need that was flaming within her.
And his lips, after suckling tentatively at each of her nipples, left wet shadows of passion against her bra, and made the heat of her need smolder to new summits of desire.
The power of her hunger was dizzying, and without thought she found the buttons of his shirt and began slipping them through the buttonholes to expose the taut muscles of his chest and the powerful shoulders. Her fingers slid even more boldly to the waistband of his jeans before he took a long, steadying breath and held both of her hands in his. “Oh, Mara,” he breathed raggedly, “don’t do this to me.” His eyes closed in agony.
Confused and disappointed, she pulled her hands from his and turned away from his dark gaze. “I . . . I . . . guess I don’t understand,” she admitted, torn by the depth of her need for him and the pain of his rejection.
“Neither do I,” he conceded, in one long, lingering breath. Disgusted with himself for the breakdown in his willpower and angry because of the pain he was causing her, he let himself fall back onto the grass to gaze, searchingly, at the few winking stars that could be seen in the restless, dark sky. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, wondering why he always felt such a need to apologize. “I told you before—I can’t have you on these terms—Peter Wilcox’s terms.”
“Peter has nothing to do with us . . .”
The unasked question burned in the air, and though unspoken, Mara could feel the question in Shane’s gaze.
“You don’t have to say anything, Mara,” he whispered. “I know that you haven’t told June about Angie.” Shane’s words sounded dead with disappointment.
“I tried,” she offered, somewhat apologetically. A gray-green flash of jagged electricity sizzled across the sky, lighting the mountain tops, and thunder rumbled ominously near.
“That’s not good enough,” he accused. “She has to be told!”
“She’s . . . she’s going to the doctor, sometime next week, I think. Once I know that she’s all right, I’ll tell her . . . everything.”
“Too late.” Shane’s voice was as distant as the approaching summer storm.
“Shane, be reasonable . . .”
“Reasonable?”he repeated incredulously, throwing the word back into her face. “Reasonable? I thinkI’vebeen more than reasonable.” In a quieter tone, “It was my mistake.” He pulled himself up into a sitting position, and his eyes traveled over the tortured expression on her face. His shirt gaped open, exposing the tense, rock hard muscles of his chest and the dark mat of hair that swirled roughly between his taut male nipples. The ripple of his muscles in the warm night was electrifying, and Mara felt the feminine urges of her body once again responding to his enticingly male physique.
“You’re insinuating that I haven’t been fair. . . .” she charged, though her voice sounded frail.
A dark eyebrow quirked attentively. “No, I’m not. What I’m telling you is that you can’t expect to have it both ways.” He silently let his eyes run down the length of her body. Her blouse was still parted, and the sculpted form of her breasts heaving in the moonlight made his ache for her increase. Reluctantly, he moved his eyes away from the soft curve of her abdomen . . .
“You’re wrong—I don’t expect anything to work both ways,” she pouted.
“Sure you do! Admit it, Mara, you want everything—Angie, the toy company, the Wilcox fortune, social standing, this house, and me. And I hate being last on the list!” His dark eyes narrowed.
“You’re wrong . . . you’re not last. Oh, Shane, don’t you know that much, at the very least?”
“I know that you’re hedging.”
“I’m not trying to . . .”
