Everything but the marriage (15 page)

The room was filled with the odd half-hght that came just before dawn, all gray shadows and softened angles. She was naked, the covers stripped down to the foot of the bed, yet her body felt heavy with warmth.

Devlin knelt beside her, his eyes intent as he looked down at her. She blinked, trying to clear the sleq)y fog from her vision.

*'DevUn?"

He didn't seem to hear her husky whisper. His hands settled hghtly on her shoulders, stroking downward until they hovered over her breasts, almost but not quite touching. From the sensitized feel of hei nipples, AnnaUse knew it wasn't the first time he'd touched her, literally stroking her awake.

She opened her mouth to offer a shaky protest, but his palms settled on her breasts, his work-calloused thumbs brushing across the peaks, and her protest emerged as a moan.

"Devlin—" He bent and covered her mouth with his, swallowing whatever she'd planned to say. His tongue traced the line of her lower lip, coaxing her to open for him. Helpless to resist—not at all sure she even wanted to resist—Annalise parted her lips, inviting him inside.

The first time they'd made love, she'd set the pace. She'd been running from her hurt more than reaching for the pleasure she'd half sensed he could give her. This time, Devlin was in control. As the minutes stretched, it seoned as if he were not only in control of himself but in control of her.

Her body responded to his touch as if she'd been waiting for him all her life, storing up edl the passion she'd thought she didn't possess so that this man could release it.

He savored the time she'd denied him earlier, alternately coaxing and commanding as he led her down pathways she'd never traveled before. His fingers knew just where to stroke her, just when to touch as lightly as a butterfly's wing and when a firmer touch would set her shivering with need.

He soothed. He demanded. He pleaded. And she gave him every trembling response he asked for.

When the time came, she opened to him eageriy, her hunger as great as his. But even now, he wouldn't allow her to rush things. He caught her face between his hands, his eyes intent on hers as he lowered his head and closed his mouth over hers, his tongue plunging deep even as his hips sank into the cradle of her thighs. His mouth swallowed her cry of pleasure.

He made love to her with fierce tenderness. She met his every thrust. Her hands moved frantically up and down his sweat-dampened back, feeling the ripple of his muscles.

Inside her, a spring coiled tighter and tighter until her whole body was timed into that building tension, until she knew she would surely shatter into a million pieces if he continued.

And then Devlin's hand cupped her bottom, tilting her hips to receive him more fully. Annalise's breath left her in a surprised cry as the spring suddenly broke loose and sent her spinning outward. For a moment, it seemed as if her heart would stop with the intensity of it.

She felt Devlin swell inside her and felt the pulse of his release. His hands tightened almost painfully on her hips. A guttural groan tore from his throat. An-nalise felt her own pleasure sharpened in the knowledge that he trembled against her.

The only sound was the rasp of Devlin's breathing. Annalise ran her hands slowly up and down his back, exploring the ridged length of his spine. He was heavy, but she liked the feel of him on her, within her.

She felt at peace in a way she couldn't remember feeling in a very long time. Maybe it was the fact that she'd told Devlin about Mary last night. Maybe it was the wonderful feeling of physical fulfillment he'd just given her.

Whatever it was, she knew deep inside that she'd finally turned a comer. She was moving out of the darkness now, moving toward the Ught. She'd never

stop grieving for her daughter, but she'd finally accepted the need to move on.

The healing had finally begun, and she owed it to the man she hdd in her arms.

Chapter 9

1 he next time Annalise woke, the sun was pouring in through the light curtains, cutting a warm golden path across the bed. Devlin's bed.

She stretched, her mouth curving in a smile. She felt several unfamiliar, delicious aches, and her smile softened with sensuous memories. She'd always thought the writers who described sex as stars bursting overhead had rather vivid imaginations. But last night, she'd seen more than a few bursting stars herself.

She sat up, reaching for the robe Devlin had draped across the foot of the bed. Her robe, she noticed, her smile deepening. Not only was he a devastating lover, he was thoughtful, too. All in all, a pretty terrific combination.

Annalise got out of bed and shrugged into the robe, pulling her hair out from under the collar. She could smell coffee and bacon, and she was suddenly ravenously hungry.

She went into the bathroom. Her attention was caught by her reflection in the mirror, and she paused to look at herself. She looked different. Just like in the books where everyone could tell the heroine had let the hero have his wicked way with her, she could see the difference in her own face.

She looked younger. The lines of tension that had added years to her age were softened. Her eyes seemed brighter. For the first time since hearing the doctor pass sentence on her beautiful little girl, she was looking forward without a sense of dread.

It didn't matter that her place in Devlin's life was ill defined. She wasn't going to worry about the future. She'd been taking each day as it came, and the results had been worthwhile so far. More than worthwhile, she amended, thinking how short a time ago it had been that she was living in her car, beyond caring how she'd make it to the next day.

Devlin was standing at the stove when she entered the kitchen. Though she didn't make a sound, he must have felt her presence. She saw his back stiffen in the moment before he turned.

There was a certain wariness in his eyes, as if he weren't quite sure what to expect from her. Which made them even, she thought, toying with the belt on her robe. Because she didn't know what to expect, either.

"Hi." Devlin broke the silence.

"Hi."

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay."

She stared down at her bare feet, wishing she had a little more experience with this sort of thing. Was there a proper thing to say or do at a moment like this? Should she pretend nothmg had happened? Or should she throw her arms around him? Something in between the two seemed a likely bet, but just what, she couldn't have said.

"Look, I~"

"I hope-"

Both broke off and looked at each other.

"You first," Devlin said.

"No, you go first. I don't know what I was going to say, anyway," she admitted with a shy smile.

There was an almost invisible easing of his shoulders. "Fm not all that sure what I was going to say, either."

"Really?"

"Really." His mouth relaxed in something approaching a smile. "I was probably going to ask you how you were again."

"I guess there aren't any firm rules pn what you're supposed to say when you've just—I mean, after..." The words trailed off and she felt color come up in her cheeks.

"When you've just become lovers?" he said softly, his eyes kindling with memories. He started forward, stopping squarely in front of her.

Aimalise focused her eyes on the top button of his shirt, feeUng a newly familiar warmth in the pit of her stomach.

"Is that what we are?" she whispered. "Lovers?"

"Is that what you want us to be?"

She lifted her eyes to his face, seeing the question in his gaze. He was just as uncertain about this as she was, she realized suddenly. It was a novd idea. She didn't think Devlin Russell was uncertain about very many things.

"Yes." There was no hesitation in her reply.

His hands settled on her shoulders, his thumbs stroking absently across her collarbone. His expression was still serious, his eyes still held that odd wariness.

"Annalise, Fm not making any promises for the future."

"I'm not asking for any."

"There are things you don't know about me."

"I know enough."

"I don't want to see you get hurt."

Her fingers touched his mouth, silencing him. "Let the future take care of itself. I'm not asking you for anything more than you want to give, Devlin."

He closed his eyes, remembering her saying that her husband had given all he could—that you couldn't ask more of anyone than that. He'd dismissed the man as a sniveling coward. But was he really so different? Wasn't he asking Annalise to be satisfied with what he could offer?

For her own sake, he should bundle her into her car and hustle her out of his life as quickly as possible. He

opened his eyes and looked at her, seeing nothing but acceptance in her gaze.

His hands tightened on her slender shoulders, drawing her closer. He knew he should send her away, but knowing and doing were two different things. He'd been alone most of his life. Would it really be so terrible to let her ease the loneliness that sometimes gnawed at him?

If he was careful, if he didn't let it go too far, maybe they could each draw something from the other. And when the time came, they could walk away without regrets. There was no harm in being a little involved.

As he bent to kiss her, he shoved aside the small voice that whispered that being a little involved was rather like being a little dead. It wasn't something you could do halfway.

If Annalise had ever thought she wasn't a particularly sensuous woman, she quickly learned how wrong she'd been. In Devlin's bed, in his arms, she found out that she had depths of sensuality she'd never expected.

If she'd been asked, she would have said that her ex-husband was a good lover. He'd certainly been kind and considerate, never demanding.

Devlin demanded. He wasn't content to have her simply lie beneath him, accepting his possessions. He demanded her participation, coaxing it from her with his hands and mouth. His satisfaction wasn't enough. He wasn't satisfied until he felt her skin heating beneath his hands and heard the soft cries she was helpless to suppress.

Though she tried not to, it was impossible to avoid comparing the only two lovers she'd ever had. She told herself she was being unfair. Bill had been young when they married, with little more experience than she. He'd never hurt her, never tried to coerce her into having sex if she didn't wish to. Making love with him had been a moderately pleasant if not terribly exciting act.

It was bnly now that she realized just how much she'd missed out on. Sex with Devlin could never be described as "moderately pleasant." It was passionate, consuming, achingly tender. He was more attuned to her body than she was, teaching her that there were more erogenous zones than the obvious ones.

She'd never have imagined that the skin behind her knees was so sensitive or that having him kiss the inside of her elbow could send shivers of awareness through her.

He encouraged her to explore his body as thoroughly as he had hers. Annalise was hesitant at first. It wasn't that she was unfamiliar with the male anatomy. After all, she had been married. But it was a long step from knowing what a man looked like without his clothes and feeling the strength of him under her hands.

But his response encouraged her to overcome ha* shyness. And she discovered that there was something intensely erotic at feeling Devlin tremble and knowing it was because of her. It made her feel bold and deliciously wicked.

When she thought about it, she was amazed by how quickly and easily they made the shift from room-

mates to lovers. Though she left most of her thmgs in the spare bedroom, Amialise never used the bed there. It felt natural to go to sleep in Devlin's arms, wonderful to wake up in his bed.

She wondered sometimes just where they were headed. He'd said he couldn't make her any promises, told her there were things she didn't know about him. She didn't doubt he was right.

She still hadn't the faintest idea how he'd come by the kind of money he was spending on the house, especially since he never made any mention of a job he'd had in the past or might return to in the future. But she didn't really care where the money had come from.

She knew the most important things about Devlin Russell. She knew that he was kind and much softer than he'd probably willingly admit. He'd not only pulled her out of the river, he'd helped her put her life back together.

He pretended to be indifferent to Beauty and her offspring, but he never forgot to make sure there was plenty of cat food in her dish. When the kittens started leaving their home in his closet and venturing into the wide world beyond, Devlin never once showed the slightest sign of impatience at finding them constantly underfoot.

When pathetic wails emanated from the bathroom at two in the morning, Devlin was there hard on Beauty's heels. He fished one particularly daring explorer out of the empty bathtub, which had been easy enough to get into but proved impossible to escape from. Annalise watched sleepily from the bed.

"They like you," she said, cuddHng up to his side as he sHd under the sheet.

"They're a pain in the neck,'* he muttered. But the complaint lacked any real force.

She smiled in the darkness. It was funny how he always downplayed his softer side, as if it might make him vulnerable to admit it existed. But she knew it was there.

Devlin's sister showed up again a few days after her first meeting with Annalise. Devlin was in town picking up some lumber when Annalise heard the car coming up the driveway. She'd been shredding chicken for a salad. At first she thought it was Devlin returning, but the deep rumble of the truck's engine was missing.

Rinsing her hands in the sink, she pulled a towel off the rack and dried her hands as she went to the front door. She recognized the car immediately.

Color climbed her cheeks when she thought of Kelly's last visit. Devlin's sister must think she was insane. If Devlin had been home, she might have been tempted to duck out the back door rather than face Kelly again. But Devlin wasn't here and she could hardly ignore his sister.

Drawing in a deep breath, she pushed open the screen door and stepped onto the porch as Kelly crossed the yard. There was no sign of her baby and Annalise felt a twinge of relief. She knew she wouldn't fall apart again, but it would be a long time before she could look at a baby without feeling the pain of her own loss. Maybe that time would never come.