“You needed to be caught, Miss Ramsey.”
“Needed to be?” She cocked her head to one side.
“Uh-huh,” he said, leaning back and propping himself up on his elbows, not realizing how complacent he looked. He had pulled on a pair of shorts when he went downstairs, but they only emphasized his sex. Right then he epitomized male smugness. “I think you’ve needed a man for a long time, someone to scratch that itch you had, someone to satisfy your dark, secret desires.”
“And you filled the bill?” she asked carefully.
By way of an answer, he shrugged. That self-satisfied expression on his face said it all.
Rana sprang off the bed so quickly that he didn’t have time to react until she was out the door and halfway across the hall. “What’s the matter? Where are you going?”
She spun around and confronted him, enraged. “I don’t need anybody, Mr. Gamblin. Especially a man who makes love to me out of a sense of pity!”
“Pity! What the hell are you talking about?”
“Figure it out.” She stamped into her room and slammed the door, locking it quickly. The thought that his lovemaking had been a charitable act wasn’t to be borne. She had come home feeling lonely and desperate. He had lent her comfort and she had grasped at it. Had his loving been no more than a means of rejuvenating poor Miss Ramsey, lifting her out of the depths of despair?
He rattled the door angrily and banged against it with his fists. “Open this door.”
“Go away.”
“I’m warning you.”
“I said to go away!”
“If you don’t open this door, I’ll tear it down, and you’ll have to tell Ruby how it happened.”
“Your threats of brute force don’t frighten me.”
Perhaps they should have. The next sound she heard was the crashing of the door against the wall as he shoved it open. Instinctively she cowered, crossing her arms over her chest. He grabbed her by the shoulders, jerked her up so that her toes were barely touching the floor, and shook her.
“You’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever known. Pity!” he scoffed. “Darling, no one carries pity that far. Don’t you know love when you see it?”
She had been holding herself rigid. Now she went limp in his arms. “Love?” she repeated weakly.
“Yes, love,” he said, bobbing his head. “Ever heard of it? I love you, and you know what? It scares the hell out of me. I’ve never been so gut-twisted in all my life. You’ve rung my chimes worse than any linebacker ever did. I haven’t known whether I was coming or going. I’ve never felt like this, been this much out of control. I’ve never been more miserable or felt so damn good. It’s terrible.”
He demonstrated just how terrible it was by sealing her surprised mouth with his. Walking her backward, he maneuvered them to the sofa. Still holding her against him, he fell onto it. His hands had no regard for his own shirt. He tore it open, freeing her breasts for the wild caresses of his mouth. Just as frantically, he rid himself of his shorts.
Their union was swift. He secured himself deep inside her. Only then did he become still, while the heat within him simmered. His lips flirted with her ear, and he rasped, “In case I haven’t yet made myself clear, I love you. Here’s how much.” He began to move.
She enfolded him with her limbs, with her heart. When the tumult came, it was explosive. They didn’t recover from it for a long time.
Rana closed her eyes and let the shower’s spray pound over her body. She washed carefully, lathering more lavishly than usual and sliding her hands over her body with an appreciation for it she had never had before. She was acutely aware of each sensation. What did her skin feel like to Trent? She tried to imagine, smiling as she recalled every adoring word he had whispered as he loved her.
He had been disappointed when, after a nap on her couch, she had suggested that he return to his own room.
“Why?” he had asked, snuggling closer. “I like it here. And here. And here.” With caressing hands he indicated all the parts of her body he loved.
She swatted his hands away before they got the best of her common sense. “Ruby might come back at any time. What if she checks up on us and finds us together?”
“What if she does? I’m a big boy.”
“Hm, I’ll say.” She sighed, caressing him.
His sigh turned into a groan of arousal. “Darlin’, that’s not a very good way of talking me into leaving. Or did you change your mind?” He eased her onto her back as his mouth reached for hers.
“No, I didn’t change my mind.” She shoved him away, and he had to jump to his feet or lose his balance and roll off the couch.
“How about a quick shower?” he suggested as she pushed him toward the door.
“How about a long one?”
“You mean it?” he said, his face lighting up.
“Alone.”
“Oh.” His smile collapsed. “Do you want to jog first?”
“You go ahead without me. I don’t have the energy.”
That brought his smile back. “I feel like I could climb Mount Everest or take on all the Pittsburgh Steelers or slay a dragon.” He kissed her hard and swiftly before leaving.
Now, stepping from the shower, Rana played that scene again in her head, as she had recalled every precious second of the night since he had first taken her in his arms. She went over every word, every touch. She relished them, treasuring them, because she had never known a love like this.
And why not admit it? She was in love with Trent
She gazed at herself in the foggy bathroom mirror, wondering if the evidence of that newfound love was shining in her eyes. Those exotic eyes she took such pains to hide stared back at her, limpid with emotion. What would Trent think if she allowed him to see them? Would he think they were as mysterious and lovely as they were touted to be? Would he think they were beautiful?
She opened the cabinet and took out a brown eye crayon. She turned it over and over in her hand, the way a former smoker handles a forbidden cigarette. A stroke of the crayon here, a dab there, a smudged line underneath the lower lashes. Should she? Just a subtle highlight to enhance the almond shape of her eyes? A whisk of cheek color in the hollow beneath her cheekbones? A little lip gloss?
She thought wistfully of all the white clothes left behind in New York. Their color made her olive complexion and dark red hair breathtaking by contrast. Cinched waistbands, provocative necklines, flowing skirts, and tailored slacks made the most of her figure. For just a moment she yearned to be as beautiful as she possibly could be.
What would Trent think of his lover then?
“You can’t really love me,” she had whispered in the aftermath of their passion.
“I do.”
“I know what kind of woman you’re usually with. I’m not that type.”
“Maybe that’s why I love you so much. I’ve dated many beautiful women, but they’re so damn shallow compared to you. You have substance. A soul. I love your body. I love what it does to mine. But I fell in love with what you are on the inside. You’re not just a pretty shell. You’re a complete woman.”
Rana returned the eye crayon to the shelf in the cabinet and closed the door firmly. She covered her face with her hands and breathed deeply. Feminine vanity tempted her to be beautiful for him. But would he still love her if he knew she had been exactly the kind of woman he now scorned?
She wasn’t under any illusions about their future. They had none. There wouldn’t be a happy ending. In only a short time he would be leaving for training camp. When he left, she would lose him forever.
But now, while she was with him, she would bask in his professions of love. There had been so few satisfying emotional relationships in her life. Her mother didn’t really know what love was. Morey had loved her, but for some reason he hadn’t felt that he could confide in her.