The devils own, p.20
The Devil's Own, page 20
“You gotta admit that you’re a little old to be having your first lover.”
“It was never convenient. My mother died when I was sixteen. After that, I acted as my father’s hostess. Boyfriends rarely fit into the embassy’s social schedule. And in the last few years...”
“You were busy keeping your old man out of jail.”
“No,” she flared. “I was trying to keep him from killing himself. I didn’t have much spare time to cultivate relationships with men.”
Linc, sincerely sorry for what he’d said, came back with, “Well, I had no way of knowing all that.”
“What you don’t know about me would fill an encyclopedia, Mr. O’Neal. From the very beginning, you’ve jumped to wrong conclusions about me, forming your own erroneous opinions—”
“And whose fault is that?” Anger was the only way to effectively douse the flames in his loins. “Why did you keep me ignorant of the facts, pretending to be what you aren’t?” He took another step forward. “You’ve got your nerve, lady, accusing me of jumping to conclusions. And just for the record, you made a much more convincing whore than you did a nun.”
She bristled in outrage. “How dare—”
“Your hands were all over me in that bar.”
“I touched your thigh,” she shouted defensively. “Low on your thigh.”
“The hair. The juicy mouth. The come-and-get-it eyes. That crotch-teasing dress.”
“I wish you would forget about that damn dress.”
“Not likely, sweetheart. Were all those trappings really necessary? Why didn’t you explain to me from the beginning who your old man was?”
“Because, if you’ll recall, I thought you were a mercenary, a mean, low, unscrupulous—”
“Cut the insults and answer my question. Why didn’t you just sober me up and introduce yourself?”
“Because I didn’t know my father’s friends from his enemies in Monterico. He had more of the latter than the former. So to protect both myself and the children, I thought it best not to tell you. The rebels would have murdered me on the spot if they had ever found out. My name was kept a secret.”
“What the hell were you doing down there in the first place? For a Sorbonne graduate, you sure aren’t very bright.”
She let the slight go and addressed the question. “Someone had to go and help these orphans.”
“Agreed. Someone. You didn’t have to go yourself. If you’ve got fifty grand to pay me, you had fifty grand to pay a mercenary. You could have gotten yourself killed.”
“But I didn’t!”
“And I don’t think you’ll be satisfied until you do!”
“What do you mean?” she asked sharply.
“When will you feel like you’ve made restitution for your daddy’s crimes? When they’re shoveling dirt over your face?”
Kerry pulled herself up to a rigid posture, “What would you know about moral obligation? You, who spend your life slumming. You, who has never thought of anyone but yourself.”
“At least I came by everything I have honestly.”
“Oh, you’re—”
“I hate to butt in.”
Simultaneously, they turned toward Cage. He was wearing an amused grin. “Y’all sure are shouting a lot, and I apologize for the interruption, but something major has come up.” He winked at Linc. “No pun intended.”
Vivid color flooded Kerry’s face. She was grateful for the darkness which hopefully concealed it. “What is it, Cage?”
“Come over here with the rest of the group. Dad has something he wants to say.”
When they moved into the circle of light, Reverend Hendren stepped forward. “This will come as a surprise to all of you. Sarah and I have been talking throughout the day and have reached a decision, which we’re sure will make our home a much happier one.” He turned his head slightly. “Joe, how would you like to come live with us?”
It had been so unselfish and beautiful, what Bob and Sarah Hendren had done. Staring out her bedroom window an hour later, Kerry still got a lump in her throat when she thought about it.
Of course pandemonium had broken out when Bob Hendren first asked that astonishing question. At first Joe hadn’t comprehended all that the question entailed. When he did, his face broke into a radiant smile. He nodded his head vigorously and reverted to his native tongue. “Si, si.” When Kerry translated to the other orphans what was happening, they grouped around Joe to exuberantly celebrate his good fortune.
When they had all been put to bed in their respective temporary shelters, Kerry caught up with the older couple.
“I can’t tell you how glad I am about what you’ve done. I only hope that I didn’t pressure you into making the decision by what I said earlier today,” she said with concern.
Each of them embraced her. Bob said, “We both think this will honor Hal’s memory in a special way. We’ll only have Joe for a few years before he goes to college. In the meantime, we can make certain that he catches up with his peers academically and socially.”
“You see, Kerry,” Cage’s mother said, “our house emptied of all our children so quickly. Cage was gone, then Hal left. Soon after that Jenny married Cage. Bob and I can’t fill those empty rooms. It will be so good having a young person there again. Trent already idolizes Joe, so he’ll fit well into the family. And he’ll have access to the ranch and the horses he seems to like so well. It all worked out beautifully.”
That was one problem that had been resolved, Kerry thought, as she let the curtain fall back into place over the window. Maybe tomorrow would provide a solution to the problem of Lisa’s future. Kerry had hugged her tightly when she tucked her into bed. She looked like a little doll in her new dotted swiss nightgown. Lisa had spontaneously returned her hug and kissed her cheek wetly and noisily.
Concern about Lisa wasn’t the only burden she was taking to bed with her.
Guilt was a bedfellow. It pressed on her heavily when she recalled the scathing words she had flung at Linc. She had unfairly accused him of never thinking of anyone but himself, when actually he had risked his life countless times to save hers and the orphans’.
Why had she said that? Why did he, more than anyone she’d ever known, provoke her to do and say things that were so out of character?
Her hand paused in the act of pulling back the bedspread when she heard a heavy tread on the stairs. Jenny and Cage had retired to their bedroom as soon as his parents had left for home. The approaching footsteps could only belong to one person. Before she could change her mind, Kerry quickly moved toward the door. She opened it just as Linc was walking past. He looked at her in surprise.
“Is something wrong?”
She shook her head no, already regretting her spontaneity. His shirttail was hanging out and his shirt was unbuttoned. The dark hair on his chest was a tempting sight. She followed its tapering pattern downward. The snap on his jeans was undone. He was barefoot. His hair had been tousled, seemingly by impatient hands. He looked heart-stoppingly wonderful.
When she just stood there rooted to the spot, saying nothing, he said, “I’m sorry if I disturbed you. I went back down to smoke a cigarette and—”
“No, you didn’t disturb me,” she said on a rush of air. “I...I owe you an apology for what I said earlier.” His eyebrow arched inquisitively. “About you thinking only of yourself,” she blurted out, by way of explanation. “It was a stupid thing to say after all you did for us. You saved our lives and...and I ask your forgiveness for saying something so patently untrue about you.”
When she dared to raise her eyes, she saw that his were slowly ranging down her body, which was clothed only in the nightgown she had purchased that day in town. She was backlit by the lamp on the nightstand. Her body was cast into detailed silhouette inside the sheer fabric.
“I’m glad you stopped me,” Linc said huskily. “Because I owe you something, too.”
She became entranced by his eyes. “You don’t owe me another apology for this morning. You’ve already apologized.”
“I owe you something besides an apology.”
“What?”
He backed her into the room. “A whole lot of pleasure.”
Chapter 12
The door closed behind him with a soft click of the latch.
“Pleasure?”
“P-L-E-A-S-U-R-E. As in what was missing in your initiation into lovemaking. I took a lot, gave very little. I want to make that up to you.”
“You mean you want to...uh...”
Nodding his head, Linc moved forward with a prowling gait. “Yeah, that’s what I mean.” Reaching her, he took her shoulders between his hands and drew her against him.
“But we can’t.” Her protest was as faint as the resistance she exerted when he adjusted his body to fit hers.
“How come?”
“Because we don’t even like each other.”
He shrugged. “You’re all right.”
“And every time we’re together we fight.”
“Makes life interesting and keeps me on my toes.”
“You’ll always hold it against me that I tricked you.”
“But I admire your craftiness.”
“In my mind you’ll always be a mercenary even though you wield a camera instead of a gun. And—”
“And in spite of all that, we’re physically attracted. Granted?” She stared into his tanned, lean face. Her stubborn will capitulated to the urging of her body. It was awakening, as a morning glory does with the sun. Unfolding itself. Seeking the warmth. Flowering open.
Kerry tried to remember all the reasons why this was untenable and unworkable, and a downright bad idea. But her body had a memory of its own. Her senses recalled each touch, sound, and taste of his lovemaking and wanted to experience them again. Thread by thread her resistance became unwoven.
She laid her hands on his chest. “Granted.”
“Then for tonight, can’t we set aside all our differences and concentrate strictly on that?”
“Isn’t that a rather irresponsible approach to going to bed together?”
“Don’t you think we deserve to be a little irresponsible?” His gaze was moving over her face and hair. “After all we’ve been through?”
“I suppose so.” Because his shirt was open, she could feel part of his bare chest against her palms. His skin was hot. The hair that matted it was crinkly and soft. She wanted to feel it against her face, her mouth.
“Don’t think about all the reasons we shouldn’t, Kerry,” he said in a stirring voice. “Think about this.”
Cupping her chin in one hand, he tilted her head back and pressed his lips against hers, nudging them apart, and breaching them with his tongue. Kerry’s world careened. She did as he suggested and focused all her attention on the kiss, the heat and passion and hunger behind it. His lips were firm, but not forceful. His tongue was bold, but not abusive. Linc used it to make love to her mouth.
When he raised his head, she slumped against him and laid her cheek on his chest. Beneath her ear she could hear his heart pounding. Their kiss had affected him as much as it had her.
“You’re good,” he whispered to the crown of her head.
“You just haven’t had anyone else lately.”
“No. You’re good.”
“I am?”
“Yes, ma’am. Very good. Damn good.”
Before she could prepare herself, he tilted her head back again, just in time to meet his descending mouth. He pulled her against him tightly, wedged her thighs apart and tucked the lower part of his body between them. It was a thrilling contact and one that would have made her gasp, had his mouth not held such mastery over hers. His lips ground against hers with a need close to desperation. She recognized the same kind of clamoring need within herself.
Working her hands from between their bodies, she linked them around his neck. When her breasts flattened against his chest, each of them uttered a gratified sound. She laced her fingers through his hair and stretched up on tiptoe. His moan originated in the bottom of his soul. He slid his hands down to her derriere, pressing her higher and harder against the front of his body.
They couldn’t continue for long without incinerating. Gradually Linc ended the kiss. His lips, moist and soft, rubbed against hers and his hands moved to the more neutral territory of her waist. It was incredibly narrow and his hands kept gently squeezing it as though marveling over that. Kerry eased down to stand flatfooted again between his widespread feet. Her hands glided down to his shoulders, touching his ears, his jaw, along the way. She toyed with the buttons on the epaulets of his shirt.
When she lifted her shy gaze up to his, he did something she’d rarely seen him do. He smiled. She remarked on it, telling him that he had a nice smile.
He laughed softly at the innocent compliment. “I do?”
“Yes. I haven’t seen you smile very often. You were usually frowning at me.”
“Because I wanted to be on top of you so damn bad.”
His emotion-packed words had a profound effect on Kerry’s insides. They absorbed them like a blow from a velvet-wrapped fist. To put things back on an even keel, she said inanely, “Your teeth are straight. Did you wear braces?”
“Hell no.”
“I did.”
“I’ll bet you were adorable.” He pecked a light kiss on the tip of her nose. “But every day you spent in braces was worth it.” He ran the tip of his tongue along her upper teeth, barely inside her lips. She shivered with the pleasure he had promised to give her. “Cold?”
“No.” Then the absurdity of the question struck her and she laughed. “No,” she stressed, shaking her head.
His eyes became as glowing and hypnotizing as lantern light in the middle of a nighttime forest. They were all Kerry could see. Twin stars at the center of this private universe.
“Hot?”
She nodded.
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”
He pressed his open palm against her stomach. Never removing his eyes from her face, he slid his hand down, following the tapering line of her body, until his hand conformed perfectly to the delta shape. “Here?”
Kerry made a yearning sound and swayed toward him. “Yes.”
“Tender?”
“A little.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re not?”
“No, Linc, I’m not.”
They kissed, and because it was such a torrid kiss, he removed his hand, caught her, and held her close, rocking her slightly. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” he whispered raggedly. He nuzzled her neck. Kissed it. Touched it with his tongue. “You know the song that goes, ‘I want to kiss you all over’?” She made an affirmative motion with her head, though she didn’t move it away from the hollow of his shoulder. “Well, that’s what I want to do to you. Kiss you all over. And over again.”
He encircled her upper arms and eased her away. When her eyes drifted open, he said, “Desire was the only thing that kept me going while we were tramping through that damned jungle. Basically I’m a coward.”
“Impossible,” she said fervently.
He grinned crookedly. “You caught me on a brave week. Anyway,” he said, giving a dismissive shake of his head, “the motivation that drove me was that one day, by some miraculous twist of fate, I was going to have you in bed.”
“You don’t fool me, Lincoln. Other people might buy that callous air you assume, but I don’t. Your motivation was to get those orphans to safety.”
He had the grace to look chagrined. “Well, it made the situation a helluva lot more bearable to fantasize about you along the way.”
“Did you?” She assumed the posture and expression of a practiced coquette, though the gestures came to her subconsciously.
“All the time. Constantly. Continually.”
His hands moved over her throat and chest. The pads of his fingers glanced over her skin, barely touching it. Even though they were sensitive to the intricate dials of a sophisticated camera, they were appealingly rough and masculine.
Lightly, he placed his hands on the sides of her breasts. He applied a slight pressure, then relaxed. Several times he did that, making her breasts move beneath the nightgown, which was made of a cotton so thin and airy that her nipples showed up as enticing shadows beneath it, even in the darkness of the room.
“Your breasts fascinated me. The way they moved every time you did. It seemed like your clothes were always getting wet. The night you bathed in the stream. The river crossing. Even perspiration made your shirt cling to you. And I’d see...”
He brushed his thumbs over her nipples. Not that they needed any encouragement. His words had already brought them to aching hardness.
“They bewitched me. All I could think of was touching, kissing.”
He bent his head and kissed her breast through her nightgown. The wet, stroking caress of his tongue seeped through the sheer cloth and caused it to mold provocatively to the rosy tips. “Nice.”
“You said I was small.”
“You are. But I never said I didn’t like small.” He lowered his head to her again and kept up that particular pleasure-giving caress until her knees threatened to buckle beneath her.
“I want to see you.” She surprised herself by saying that. But she didn’t lower her gaze in maidenly bashfulness. She met his steadily. “Take off your shirt. Please.”
Her polite afterthought amused him, but he made no comment on it as he peeled off his shirt. Holding it out to his side, he dropped it to the floor. He stood perfectly still, indulging her curiosity.
She smiled compassionately over the angry red scrape the bullet had left. She wouldn’t dwell on how close he had come to being seriously wounded or killed. It made her slightly ill to think about it. She pushed the thought from her mind and, as they had agreed to do, centered her thoughts on loving.
Her touch was delicate and inquisitive when she first laid her hands on the upper, curving portion of his chest. The hair was intriguing, and she combed her fingers through it. It spread in a wide fan shape over his breasts, then funnelled to a silky stripe down the center of his stomach. She bracketed his rib cage with her hands and moved them down as far as his waist, then back up, letting her fingers climb over each rib. They finally came to rest beneath the solid, curved muscles. Her thumbs came dangerously close to touching his nipples before they shied away.
