«Viens ici, cherie,» he whispered, sliding across the bed, holding his hand out to her.
Serena stared at him for a moment, mesmerized. He looked wild and dangerous, but she reached out and took his hand, welcoming its solid strength as she welcomed the strength of his arms when she settled herself on the bed and into his embrace.
They made love slowly as the rain fell. Lucky took complete command, letting Serena lie back to simply enjoy. He kissed her again and again, long, slow, deep kisses that left her breathless and languid. He lavished attention on her breasts, sucking gently at her nipples for what seemed like hours. Slowly he made his way down her body, kissing her everywhere with lingering, leisurely kisses, tasting her stomach, the point of her hip, the inside of her knee.
Lying between her legs, he slid his hands beneath her buttocks and lifted her slightly. He settled his mouth against her intimately, caressing her with his tongue, drinking in the taste of her. Serena arched her back and sighed at the exquisite pleasure. Desire swirled through her, building like the storm wind outside, sweeping her away to a place where there was nothing but herself and Lucky and this vibrant heat that burned inside her and exploded through her as he took her over the brink.
The shock waves were still pulsing when he slid up over her, caressing her body with his. She cried out when he entered her, not in pain, but in ecstasy as her muscles clenched and held him deep within her, caressing him, coaxing him toward his own completion.
Lucky ground his mouth against Serena's, catching her soft, wild sounds, giving her his tongue and the lingering sweet taste of her own body. The old bed creaked as he moved against her. Thunder rumbled overhead and rain hammered down on the tin roof, but those things receded into nothingness. Chanson du Terre, the past, the present, all faded away.
All Lucky could think of was Serena, her softness, her heat, the way she fit around him as tight as a silken glove, the way she welcomed him into her body and held on to him as if she would never let him go. All he could think of was giving her pleasure and letting that pleasure sweep him away.
He moved within her, slowly, gently, holding back his own release as he lured her toward another. Her hips moved against his. The tempo of her breathing quickened. He slipped a hand between them and rubbed his thumb against her most sensitive flesh, and she cried his name again as her ecstasy crested, taking Lucky with her. His body shuddered and stiffened as he poured his seed into her. He tightened his arms around her and thought he'd never felt quite so alive.
He turned onto his side as his muscles began to relax, and sank gratefully into the mattress. Physically, he was tired. Emotionally, he was exhausted from the constant war between feeling and trying not to feel. He gathered Serena close against him and wondered if she could sense him shaking inside.
Outside, the storm had passed. The thunder was rolling away to the north, leaving behind only the gentle sound of the rain. Inside, the storm of passion had passed and Serena lay in Lucky s arms, spent, too tired to face the feelings their lovemaking had kept at bay- all the emotions Gifford s actions had jerked loose, the pressure he had put on her, the conflicts over what needed to be done, the questions about family loyalty, the memory of the fire and all it meant. As he had promised, Lucky had taken her away from all that for a brief time, but now it all came rushing back.
The tears came as quickly as the spring shower had, and she let them fall without bothering to hide them or apologize for them. Lucky held her close, stroking her hair, brushing his lips against her temple. He whispered to her in French, soft words, comforting words, his low, purring voice almost as tangible a caress as his hand. It was just the respite she needed. Quiet compassion. Sheltering. Tender solace. The kind of consolation offered on an unspoken plane of understanding, offered with empathy, offered by a soul mate.
Serena felt her heart swell painfully at the thought. What they had was temporary, tenuous, a slice of their lives that seemed taken out of context. It was like a hothouse flower that had been forced to burst open overnight. Feelings had been magnified and time-accelerated. She wondered if what they had would die as quickly as it had come to life.
She knew the answer. It wrung a few extra tears from her heart and brought the words to her lips even though she knew she shouldn't say them. She shouldn't have become involved with him to begin with, but it was too late to change that and she couldn't change what was in her heart, no matter how pointless it was.
She sighed with a sense of fatalism and murmured against the base of his throat, «I love you.»
The words ran into Lucky's heart like the blade of a knife. His hand stilled in the act of stroking her hair. Every muscle in his body tensed in rejection. «Don't,» he said automatically.
Serena sat up, pulling the sheet over her breasts, and looked at him, her expression as carefully blank as his. «Don't what? Don't love you or don't say it out loud?»
He shook his head as he climbed out of the bed and reached for his jeans. «Don't,» he repeated as he pulled up the zipper. «Don't say it. Don't think it.»
Serena watched him as he prowled the room, reading his unease in the set of his muscular shoulders and the tempo of his stride. He walked with his head down, eyes hooded, his hair partially obscurring his profile.
«Why not?» she asked, keeping her voice even.
He shot her a sideways glance. «Because it isn't true. You can't love me. You don't know me. This»-he gestured toward the bed-«this is just sex.»
«Not for me, it isn't.»
Lucky wheeled on her, his expression cruel, his eyes tormented. «Well, it is for me,» he shot back, taking an aggressive step toward the bed. «How's that, baby?» he asked sarcastically, raising his hands in question. «Is that what you wanted to hear? You're a great lay, but that's all it is.»
The pain was instantaneous. Serena told herself she'd asked for it, but that hardly dulled the sting. Even seeing the tumult of contradictory emotions in Lucky's eyes wasn't much of a balm. This was his line of defense and he would cling to it to the bitter end.
He didn't want to believe there could be something more between them even when he knew it already existed. He was afraid of it. He didn't want her seeing beyond his armor, didn't want her to touch him.
«It's just sex,» he repeated half under his breath as he retreated to pace along the foot of the bed.
«I don't believe you.»
«I don't care.»
«If you don't care, why does it upset you so much to hear me say I love you?»
He stopped in his tracks and turned his face to her with a look that would have chilled most men. «Don't play shrink games with me, Serena.»
She didn't deny the charge, but shrugged and lifted her chin. If she'd been in possession of her common sense, she would have let the matter drop. But then, if she'd been in possession of her common sense, she never would have gotten into the pirogue with him at Gauthier's dock.
«I love you. That's how I feel. I needed to say it. I don't see why you're so upset,» she said defensively. «I didn't ask you to say it back.»
Lucky snorted. «Mais non, but you expected me to.»
She stared at him, feeling an acute sense of sadness like a stone in her chest. «No. I didn't.»
He swore in French and turned toward the window. «I can't give you what you want, Serena,» he said, ignoring her answer. «I don't have it in me.»
«Oh, I think you have it in you. You're just afraid to give it.»
«No,» he said, staring out at the rain. «It's not there. It's gone. There's nothing there. I can't be the kind of man you need.»
«What do you know about the kind of man I need?'