Justine Davis – Romancing the Crown: Kate & Lucas: Under the King's Command / The Prince's Wedding (страница 20)
“This will only take a minute.” Sam transferred his grip to her shoulders and gently turned her to face away from him. There was the click of an opening stud and the rasp of a zipper.
“Sam! What are you doing?”
“Trying to get my hand into my pocket.” He grunted. “This wet denim is like glue. Couldn’t get my hand inside unless I opened my fly, and I didn’t want to try this on the dinghy or you might have tried to jump overboard again.”
She felt her breath stop. He was already half-naked. Now he was unfastening the only garment he wore. And he was standing right behind her, close enough for her to sense every whisper of motion. She closed her eyes, but she could all too easily picture how the sun would be gleaming off his moist skin, how each ridged muscle would tighten with his movements, how pale and slim her hand would look as she caressed his body…
No. It was over. Gone. She could control this. She had to.
“Got it. Hang on a minute.” The zipper rasped closed. A moment later he turned her around to face him and held out his hand.
A fine gold chain was draped between his fingers. A gold butterfly glinted in the center of his palm.
Kate’s heart was pounding so hard it took her a moment to realize what he was showing her. When she did, she felt a surge of warmth that had nothing to do with sexual awareness. “Oh, Sam.” She reached out to touch her fingertip to one of the butterfly wings. “You found it, after all.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry about the broken chain, but I think it can be fixed.”
She couldn’t move, caught by the image of his large, strong hand holding her delicate necklace. Her throat grew tight with a sudden lump of emotion. This was too much. The man who had created a baby with her, a precious and fleeting life, now held the symbol of it.
He ducked his head to catch her gaze. “I thought you’d be happy.”
She didn’t know what she was. Right now, she was too mixed up to analyze it. She clasped her hand over his and lifted her face. “Thank you, Sam.”
“You’re welcome, Kate.”
And then, as naturally as drawing her next breath, she stretched up and kissed him.
Chapter 8
It was like coming home. Something familiar, something treasured but left behind. Something she hadn’t known was precious until it was gone.
Only Kate had never really had a home. There had been a neat split-level house in the Miami suburbs that her mother had kept spotless and tastefully decorated. Her father had worked himself into a heart attack to avoid spending time in it. A home should have been warm and welcoming, but that house wasn’t. It had been brittle, the atmosphere charged with the tension of impending arguments. Eventually the arguments had ceased altogether, not because things got better but because her parents had simply given up and stopped talking.
Kate had grown up with one ambition—to leave. She wanted to leave that house and that life as far behind as she could. And so the Navy had become her family. Each time she packed her bags to move to another base, she left that soulless split-level further behind and proved she would never be trapped in a marriage like her parents.
No, she’d never really known a home.
Then why did Sam’s kiss make her think of one?
She pulled back her head to look at him.
He smiled slowly, his eyes sparkling in a way that was achingly familiar. Treasured. Left behind.
Kate trembled. Now was the time to stop. She could claim the kiss was just from gratitude. It wasn’t too late. She could pretend—
“Again,” Sam said.
“What?”
“You did it again.” He slipped his free hand into her hair, combing it from her temple with his fingers. “One of these days, Kate, I’m going to be the one to kiss you first.”
“But—”
“Shh.” He cupped the back of her head to hold her steady as he lowered his mouth to hers.
Duty, reason, memory, everything logical and reasonable was screaming alarms in her head, but she didn’t want to listen. She closed her eyes and met him halfway.
The only music was the soft beat of the waves against the hull and the whistle of the breeze in the rigging, but Kate could have sworn she heard a saxophone.
The magic hadn’t dimmed. It was as potent now as it had been before.
That was why Kate had struggled so hard against it.
And that was why she found it impossible to resist.
His lips slid across hers in a caress as soft as a sigh. He didn’t hurry, yet he didn’t give her a chance to retreat. It was an exploration and a reminder, coaxing her to respond.
She did. Heaven help her, she did. She parted her lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss. He tasted of salt from the sea and a dark, heavy thirst that wouldn’t be quenched by a kiss. Kate felt his hand tighten in her hair as his tongue stroked hers, and she swayed against him, pressing her body full-length to his.
His skin was damp and his cutoffs still dripping wet. Kate could feel the water soak into her tank top and shorts, but she didn’t care. After a week of watching him, she was finally touching. And she couldn’t get enough.
How could she have forgotten how well they fit together? His angles to her curves, his strength to her softness was so… right, it was as if she belonged here.
The necklace slipped from between their hands and fell to the deck unnoticed. Kate slid her arms around Sam, cupping her palms to the curve of his shoulder blades and splaying her fingers as if she could absorb him.
How could she have forgotten how good he felt beneath her hands? His skin was sleek and hot, stretched tight over muscle that had been hardened by years of dangerous missions. He craved adventure, he thrived on freedom, but that didn’t seem to matter to her now. Not when he was in her arms at last.
He moved his mouth to her neck. She felt his breath puff warmly over her skin as he said her name. She tipped up her chin, savoring the sensation.
“Kate,” he repeated, his voice rough. “My Kate.”
Another alarm sounded somewhere in her brain, but she was beyond listening. His lips brushed her throat, and tingles raced through to her toes. She felt as if she were awakening after a long sleep, her heart pumping, her blood flowing the way it was meant to. It couldn’t be wrong.
She curled her fingers, pressing her nails to his skin, hanging on as her head whirled. He dipped the tip of his tongue into the hollow at the base of her throat. A sound rose between them, a soft moan of longing. She hadn’t realized it was her until she felt an answering rumble vibrate from Sam’s chest.
He lifted his head. His eyes met hers without wavering. “I’ve missed you,” he said simply. “So much.”
It still wasn’t too late to stop, she thought dimly. He wasn’t pushing her. And he would never force her. That’s just the kind of man he was. Straightforward and honest. Responsible. Stubborn.
Tender. Sweet.
She parted her lips, but the lie wouldn’t come. “I’ve missed you, too, Sam.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled with the beginning of a smile. But then he dropped his gaze, and his smile froze. “You’re wet.”
“I’ll dry off. It’s warm and…” Her words trailed off as she followed his gaze. Water had seeped into her cotton tank top. The once modest garment clung to her breasts, clearly outlining her erect nipples.
She watched him bring his hand between their bodies, and her knees went weak. He spread his fingers, holding his palm a whisper away from one straining peak.
A tremor shook his fingers. His chest vibrated with another rumbling moan.
She looked up and found his gaze on her face. His smile was gone. His eyes glowed with an intensity that gave her no chance to hide. Even in the sunshine that poured on the deck she felt the heat from his hand. She couldn’t breathe as every nerve strained toward him, yearning for the moment when he would close the gap.
He closed his hand over her breast.
Kate was unable to stop her soft gasp of pleasure. It had been so long. She had forgotten how good this felt.
No, she hadn’t forgotten, she had chosen not to remember.
He rubbed his palm across her nipple. The soft friction of the wet shirt over her sensitive flesh made it swell more. She locked her hands behind his neck, arching her back and shamelessly lifting herself more fully into his caress.
He cupped her breast boldly, lifting, squeezing, driving her mad. With a groan, he curled himself over her body and fitted his mouth to hers.
There was nothing coaxing about this kiss. He took her lips with swift certainty. His tongue plunged inside, demanding a response. She gave it, matching him stroke for stroke. Needs that she’d believed had died were blossoming. She wasn’t merely awakening, she was coming alive.
It was wonderful. Glorious. She couldn’t think why she had fought it so long. Then she stopped thinking altogether and raked her fingers over his naked back.
Sam shifted, bracing his legs apart and wrapping his arms around her waist as he drew her more firmly against him. The position brought their hips together. Beneath the cool, wet denim he was hot and hard.