Читать книгу Royal Weddings - Joan Elliott Pickart, Christine Rimmer - Страница 15

Chapter Nine

Somehow, though she never expected she would, Elli did go to sleep. If she dreamed, she didn’t recall those dreams when she woke. Her eyes popped open at a few minutes after seven on Thursday morning and her first thought, as she stared at her silent bedside clock, was that she’d forgotten to turn on her alarm.

Her second thought was of Hauk.

Hauk. A warmth spread through her. A longing.

She ordered that longing to get lost. Today, they were leaving. By tonight, she’d be in Gullandria. He’d made it clear that once he delivered her to her father, they might never see each other again. And if they did, it would only be in passing. A quick glimpse, from a distance, in some echoing palace room. That, at most. Nothing more.

She sat up. And found him sitting in the straight chair opposite the end of her bed. He had his boots on and his face was just-shaved smooth.

Elli raked her tangled hair back off her forehead. ‘‘Imagine running into you here.’’

‘‘It is Thursday morning.’’

Irritation sizzled through her at his preemptive tone. ‘‘No kidding.’’

‘‘Rise. Dress and gather your things. The time to go has come.’’

She folded her hands on top of the blankets and looked down at them. She was thinking that she ought to just do as he said.

Too bad when she raised her head what came out was, ‘‘Think again.’’

As usual, he sat absolutely still. ‘‘Why do you insist on playing these endless mind games?’’ His eyes were like a pair of lasers, slicing through her, cutting deep.

‘‘This is no game. It’s only seven. It will be Thursday morning for five more hours.’’

His expression showed very little. Yet somehow he seemed to seethe where he sat. There was a long, heated moment during which they glared at each other.

Then he stood. ‘‘Five hours then. At noon, you will be ready. At 12:00 p.m., exactly, we will walk out your door.’’

She yanked her shoulders back and shot him her most defiant scowl. ‘‘And if I’m not ready?’’

‘‘Then I’ll bind you hand and foot, stuff a kerchief in your mouth to still your cries and carry you out.’’ He turned on his heel and left.

Elli gripped the blankets and told herself she would not, under any circumstances, jump from the bed and chase him down the hall screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs.

Hauk stood in the hall, composing himself. He wanted to march back in there, wrap his fingers around her smooth neck and squeeze the defiance right out of her. But if he touched her, he knew it wouldn’t be strangling she’d get at his hands.

The most important thing, the goal above all, was to last until noon without laying a finger on her. Then, one way or another, he’d take her to the airport. The Gulfstream could make it nonstop to Gullandria. Within hours, he’d be turning her over to her father, the king. Once he got free of her—once she wasn’t there every moment, her very presence like a taunt, a constant reminder of what he’d never have—he could begin to purge himself of this impossible hunger for her.

Through the most recent long and sleepless night, he’d pondered deeply. And by dawn he’d almost convinced himself that, over time, he would again find the man he had been before Monday—before two brief days and three cruel nights of following his king’s beautiful daughter everywhere she went. He’d almost made himself believe that the day would come when the prospect of the life that lay before him would be enough to satisfy him again.

Already there was a bright spot to focus on. Never again would he be forced to spend a night lying so near to her, forbidden to touch.

Elli got dressed, washed her face, combed her hair and brushed on a little blusher and mascara. Hauk was waiting for her in the hallway when she emerged from the bedroom.

She couldn’t seem to stop herself from sneering at him. ‘‘There you are again. How can I miss you if you won’t go away?’’

He fell in step behind her. ‘‘You will soon have your wish.’’

She stopped, turned. And all her anger just melted away. There was nothing left but longing.

‘‘Oh, Hauk. I didn’t say it was my wish.’’

They stared at each other. Always a mistake, for them to stare at each other…

Elli sucked in a trembling breath. ‘‘Breakfast,’’ she said. ‘‘We need breakfast.’’

‘‘Yes,’’ he said. ‘‘Breakfast.’’

Neither of them moved.

‘‘Go on,’’ he said.

Somehow, she did it. She turned from those eyes of his and went on down the hall.

The dishwasher was full of clean dishes. Hauk emptied it and set the table. Elli made the coffee, fried the last of the bacon and whipped up some batter for pancakes.

They ate in silence.

And not an angry silence, either. Just a cautious one—cautious and a little bit sad. Elli let her gaze stray out the window to the patch of blue sky between the buildings.

She looked back at Hauk, who was so carefully not looking at her.

Oh, really, he was very dear. He was true and good and… straight-ahead. Not to mention absolutely thrilling to look at. She remembered the little redhead in the restaurant last night. Is that yours? Oh, my, my…

Elli agreed with the redhead. What woman wouldn’t want to make love with Hauk? All that beautiful bronze skin and those big, hard muscles. And those eyes…

Once she’d thought his eyes cold and hard. But she’d learned better in the last two days. His eyes were clear. Unflinching. They spoke of the honesty and strength within.

And it wasn’t only that just looking at him made her want to throw herself into those huge arms of his. There was also an odd and lovely… comfortableness, between them. Or at least, there was whenever she let down her guard and stopped manufacturing anger to keep her feelings for him at bay.

Really, other than held tight in his arms, there was no place she’d rather be than right here, at the breakfast table, with Hauk sitting across from her.

How could that have happened, in little more than two days? How had he gone from a terrifying stranger, her kidnapper—to this? The man most likely to turn her knees to jelly, the man she wanted so much to kiss. The man who could clear her table and empty her dishwasher any time, no questions asked.

She set down her fork. ‘‘Hauk?’’

He allowed himself to look at her.

‘‘Why are we doing this?’’

‘‘Because you refuse to give up your stalling and pack your—’’

‘‘No.’’

He looked at her sideways, suspicious.

‘‘Hauk, I don’t mean that. I don’t mean my going or not going. I mean… you and me. I mean, well, that I care for you. A lot.’’ He stared—and he blinked. She waved a hand. ‘‘Oh, I know. It sounds crazy, to say that, considering why you came here in the first place, considering that it’s only been a couple of days since we met. But so what if it’s crazy? It’s also true. I do care for you. And I think you care for me.’’ He was gaping at her. He looked utterly stunned. She continued. ‘‘I don’t see why we can’t just—’’

‘‘Enough.’’ Hauk dropped his own fork. It clattered to his plate.

‘‘But I want you to—’’

His chair screeched across the floor tiles as he surged to his feet. ‘‘I have told you. I know you have heard. There can be nothing between us. Ever.’’

She looked up at him unblinking. ‘‘That is so ridiculous.’’

‘‘To you, perhaps.’’

‘‘No. Not only to me. To any… thinking individual.’’

‘‘Now you insult my intelligence.’’

‘‘No, I’m not. You know I’m not. And we both know what you’re doing now. You’re trying to drum up some fake reason to be angry with me—and I don’t blame you for doing that. I mean, it’s not as if I haven’t been doing it, too. But we both know it’s all just an act, just a hopeless attempt on both our parts to keep from admitting how we really feel about each other.’’

He fell back a step—as if he needed all the distance from her he could get, as if he feared she might actually reach out and touch him.

She did no such thing—she didn’t even move. ‘‘You think of me as a princess, as someone far above you, someone out of your reach. But that’s… all in your mind. I’m no princess. Not really. You’re always telling me that I think like an American. Well, that’s because, as I keep telling you, I am an American. I might have been born in Gullandria, but I’ve lived all but the first ten months of my life right here, in Sacramento. The laws and customs of Gullandria don’t apply to me. At heart, where it matters, I’m just Elli Thorson. And I think, honestly, that we might have something here, you and me. Something really powerful. Something so good…’’

Apparently, he didn’t agree with her. He stood to attention now. He was just waiting for her to be done with him. Waiting so that he could go.

‘‘Oh, Hauk,’’ she said in a low voice.

‘‘Are you finished?’’

She bit her lip, gave a small, hopeless shrug.

To get away from her, out of the kitchen, he had to go past her. It was his undoing.

She caught his wrist as he tried to get by. ‘‘Oh, Hauk. Please…’’

He froze. The air seemed to shimmer around them. Heat radiated from the point where her flesh touched his. That heat was spreading out, all through her body. Arrows of longing zinged straight through her heart.

She had a split second—even less than that—and he would shake her off. She didn’t give him time to do it. She swept upward, out of her chair, throwing her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his big, hard chest.

It was too much for him. His resistance broke. With a low moan he gathered her close.

Stunned that she’d gotten exactly what she’d yearned for, Elli stared upward, into his wonderful, square-jawed, determined face.

Oh, my. This was a lovely, lovely place to be, held so close against his heart, those huge, strong arms wrapped around her.

He whispered, ‘‘You should not have touched me.’’

‘‘Oh, right. Ask me not to breathe, while you’re at it.’’

‘‘You should not—’’

‘‘Shh.’’ She slid one hand up between their bodies, put two fingers against his mouth. ‘‘Stop that,’’ she chided, oh so tenderly.

His mouth moved. She felt his breath flow down her hand. His lips parted slightly and his lower teeth scraped her finger pads.

Elli shivered—with delight, with excitement. ‘‘Oh, see? See, this is how it ought to be….’’

His big hand was in her hair. He cupped the back of her head. ‘‘A mistake. This is all a dangerous mistake.’’

‘‘Stop that. You stop that right now. This is no mistake. I just told you what this is. This is how it ought to be.’’ She was pressed very close to him, close enough to feel his arousal—and to revel in it. In her own most intimate place, she felt… hollowed out, moist and needful and longing to be filled with him. She gasped. ‘‘Oh, Hauk. Kiss me. Kiss me, please.’’

Her eyes drifted closed.

Hauk looked down at that beautiful mouth, the mouth she offered, the mouth she wanted him to have.

Damned, he thought. I am damned to the bitter cold and unending night of Hel, to do this.

But right at that moment, he didn’t care. He thought, Just the taste of her. Why shouldn’t I have that? She wants me to have that. Only a taste….

Her head tipped back, her mouth tipped up. She loosed the sweetest, tiniest sigh.

He thought, Only that. One kiss. And that sigh, inside me, all the rest of my days.

He brought his mouth down over hers.

Her lips parted. The sweetness within nearly finished him—right there, in her kitchen, in the bright light of morning. He tasted the slick inner surface beyond her soft lips and he thought he was dying.

An acceptable sacrifice, the loss of his life. He was glad to go, though Valhalla would be lost to him—ah, the shame of it.

The king’s warrior, dead in a kitchen of a woman’s kiss…

He held her more tightly, his hands roaming her slim back, pressing that softness, that female warmth all the closer. Those full breasts of hers pushed against his chest. She moaned and her breath, sweet and hot and scented of coffee, flowed into his mouth. He sucked it in all the deeper, down into his soul. He would keep it forever, along with her sigh.

Her soft fingers danced at the nape of his neck, threading into his hair, caressing outward, across his shoulders, then sliding back to clasp around his neck again. Her tongue, shy at first, grew bolder, darting into his mouth, flicking along the top of his own tongue, pausing there, darting back.

She made a small, hungry sound, like a kitten seeking strokes. He groaned in response. And he swept his hands downward, over the incredible twin swells of her bottom, tucking her into him, his manhood pressing her most secret place.

He was so hard. His body commanded him. To lay her down, to make her his…

He curved the slim length of her backward over his arm, and he lost her mouth in order to gain the petal-soft flesh of her sweet chin, to run his tongue down the glorious stretch of her long, satiny throat.

‘‘Oh, Hauk. Oh, yes, yes…’’ She pressed her hips up against him, in invitation, in a promise of something he knew he couldn’t take.

Yet still, she promised. She promised him everything. She murmured sweet encouragements, she drove him on with sighs.

He kissed the twin points of her collarbone, pausing there, where her pulse beat in the hollow of her throat, to breathe deep, to suck in the womanly, flower-sweet scent of her, adding it to the treasures he’d already claimed—that sigh before he kissed her, that later breath. Breath upon breath, he would have them all.

Those soft hands of hers were at his waist, fumbling with the shirt he wore, gathering it, sliding it upward. She caressed the bare skin over his ribs, scratching him lightly, tauntingly, with her fingernails.

He nuzzled the fabric of her light cotton blouse, burying his face in the soft swell of a breast, finding her nipple beneath the layers of clothing.

He teased that nipple, drawing it up to a point, then closing his mouth over it, sending out a focused breath of air across it, biting at it, lightly, feeling it pebble up more firmly, as if it begged for more.

She’d forgotten her task of removing his shirt. Her hand splayed in his hair now, pressing him closer, against her offered breast. He latched on, sucking, soaking the fabric over her nipple as he toyed with it.

‘‘Oh, yes,’’ she moaned, pulling him ever closer. ‘‘Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes…’’

He brought one hand between them, laid it in the center of her chest, against the glorious fullness of those proud breasts.

‘‘Yes…’’ She urged him on, soft lips against his ear, warm breath against his skin. She captured his earlobe, teased it between her teeth. ‘‘Yes, Hauk. Oh, yes…’’ Her hips moved against his, promising untold delights.

Offering everything.

All of her. All she was, all she had. So much. More than he had ever dared to dream of in his bastard soul.

A prize beyond measure. Worth any price. He found the first button on her blouse, captured it between his thumb and his forefinger.

‘‘Yes,’’ she whispered, one more time.

And then the phone rang.