Page 47 of Snow Kisses

“I’ve had half a bottle of whiskey,” he said, towering over her with the locked door behind him. “And I’m not quite sober yet, despite the three cups of black coffee I had on the plane. But you said something to me that I’m sure I really heard and didn’t dream, and I flew up here to let you say it again. Just to make sure.”

She stared at him unblinkingly, loving every unshaven plane of his face.

“You hung up the phone and got on a plane in the middle of the night…?” she began nervously.

His eyes roamed down her body and one dark eyebrow arched curiously. “You’ve lost weight, Abigail,” he murmured, studying her. “A lot of it, and you look like pure hell.”

“Have you seen yourself in a mirror?” she countered, noticing new lines, new shadows under his dark eyes.

He shook his head. “Couldn’t stand the sight of myself,” he admitted. “Come on, Abby, let’s hear it.”

She swallowed. “It was easier when you were still in Montana,” she began nervously.

“I guess it was.” He took off his hat and tossed it onto a chair. His big hands framed her face and he looked down at it like a starving man. “Suppose I take you to bed, Abby?” he asked softly. “And after we’ve made love for three or four hours, I’ll ask you again.”

Chapter Twelve

She could barely breathe when she saw what was in his eyes. It was hardly possible that she was dreaming, but it was so much like a dream come true that she felt faint.

“Look at me, Abby,” he whispered.

She raised her eyes and his gaze fell to the transparent material over her firm, high breasts. He reached out and drew his knuckles down from her collarbone over one perfect breast, and he smiled at her body’s helpless reaction to his touch, at the hunger he could see and feel.

“Same damned thing happens to me every time I think about you,” he murmured with a soft, deep laugh. “Four months, Abby. Four long months, and I’ve walked around aching every minute of every day, wanting you until I was like a wounded bear with everyone aroundme. Tonight I’d had all I could take, I couldn’t even get properly drunk…damn you, come here!”

He lifted her in his hard arms, taking her mouth with a hungry, aching thoroughness, ignoring her sweet moan of pleasure and her clinging arms as he walked back into her bedroom and slammed the door behind them.

“I’m going to make love to you all night long,” he said as he carried her straight toward the bed. “In the morning, you’ll be damned lucky if you can walk at all. Then we’ll talk.”

“Cade, I could get pregnant!” she said in a high-pitched tone, afraid that it was only the liquor talking.

“Yes, you could,” he said quietly, staring into her eyes. “And that would mean total commitment. To me. For life. Say yes or no. But if it’s no, I’m going straight back to Montana, and I’ll never come near you again.”

She felt her body trembling in his strong embrace, and her heart yielded totally as she searched his face with a loving, possessive gaze.

“I don’t know if I can survive an affair with you,” she said softly. “But if that’s what you want, I…I can try. I just don’t understand what we’d do about a child….”

He breathed slowly, deliberately, and his eyes softened. “Melly said you were blind about me. I suppose she knew better than I did,” he murmured. He laid her gently down on the bed and unbuttoned his shirt with slow, easy motions, tossing it aside. His hands went to his belt and unfastened it. His trousers followed, while Abby watched him, shocked to the bone.

“If you think it’s rough on you,” he muttered, glancing at her as he turned to divest himself of everything else,“remember what I told you before, Abby. I’ve never undressed in front of a woman.”

“That’s the loss of women everywhere,” she whispered, awed as he turned around again. “Oh, Cade…!”

His face softened, and the red stain on his cheeks faded away. He sat down beside her, coaxing her to sit up so that he could remove the caftan. And then he just looked and looked, until she felt her heart trembling wildly, her body helplessly arching in invitation, moving restlessly under the pure sensuality of the appraisal.

“Before this goes any further,” he said quietly, sliding a big, warm hand over her smooth belly, up to rest maddeningly below one taut breast, “you’d better tell me if you meant what you said on the phone.”

She swallowed. “About being lonely and lost in the city?” she whispered.

He nodded. “Are you happy?”

“When I’m with you,” she managed through trembling lips. “Only when I’m with you. Oh, God, you don’t know…you’ll never know how it was to leave you!”

His fingers trembled and he searched for his voice. “I know how it was to be left, Abby,” he said slowly. “I’ve been walking around like half a man for four years. And until tonight, I had no idea, no idea at all what you felt.”

“How could I tell you, when you kept going on about not wanting a commitment, not wanting marriage?” she asked unsteadily. “You pushed me away….”

“I had to,” he ground out. “I can’t control what I feel for you, I never could. You’ll never know how close I came to taking you the night I found you by the pool.When I left you I was shaking like a boy. I had to drink myself to sleep—the only other time I’ve been at the bottle like I have tonight.” His fingers moved up to her breasts, touching them like a man touching a treasure trove. “So beautiful,” he whispered. “You were then, you are now. My Abby. My own.”

---