Fast Courting (17 page)

Given the events of the evening, Nia was unable to focus on the long-range implications of Daniel’s frustration. Visions of smoke and flame permeated her mind. And neither the brandy nor Daniel’s valiant attempts at encouragement was able to stem her stubbornly self-renewing sense of shock. She felt totally helpless, empty and alone. More than anything, she wished that Daniel would have stayed with her. But…that was absurd! He was simply next door!

Following his suggestion, she stripped and doused herself beneath the restorative spray of the shower, washing away the imaginary grime left by the destruction of her home. The cleansing of her body was, however, a simple matter compared with that of her mind. The vision of her past, her security, her home, was suddenly and irreversibly marred.

Her feet left faint imprints on the plush pile of the almond-colored carpet as she walked back into the bedroom wearing nothing but Daniel’s pajama top. With rolled-up sleeves and falling to mid-thigh, it would have been an adequate night shirt had it not been for the image it conjured up of another body filling it. Frustrated, she stood before the mirror to comb her fingers through the layers of her hair, pushing it here, then there, then frowning in dissatisfaction.

A soft oath escaped her as she threw herself on the bed to lie there for no more than a minute before she bolted up again. Her body was cool, yet it flamed. Her mind was a mass of grief overshadowed by a need that grew greater and greater. She paced the floor. She stopped. She slumped into a chair. She stood up. She thrust her fingers through her hair, then hung her head and paced some more. Finally she came to an abrupt halt.

Her material past had been wiped out. Was it symbolic? Damn it,
she needed him
. Was she wrong to fight the welling ache? She desired him. She
loved
him. Was it wrong to go to him? But he had been the one to stop short in the past. Would he turn her away again?

Debate was pointless. Her need had far exceeded the value of hashing and rehashing what was right or wrong. Nia only knew that at this moment she could not stay in this room, alone. Daniel was her only hope.

Driven by a determination stronger than any she’d ever felt, she whirled and headed for the door, drawing it quickly open and entering the hall. Daniel’s door was open; his light was on. But he was nowhere in sight.

Her heart beat madly as she followed the hall toward the living room. There, silhouetted against the glass, he stood, his back to her, his hands on his hips, his head bowed with emotion. Whether it was anger, frustration, sadness, or simply exhaustion she didn’t know. And there was only one way to find out.

On silent feet she approached, fighting against the incipient trembling that his appearance had sparked. He was a lean mountain of gleaming flesh, bare skin from shoulder to hip and then again from thigh to toe. He wore nothing but a dark pair of shorts, the bottoms to her tops, if her guess was correct. The dampness of his body suggested that he, too, had just emerged from a shower. He was, even in the darkness, every bit as magnificent a male creature as she had imagined him to be.

“Daniel?” she whispered from just behind him.

His head turned toward her, a damp swathe of hair falling across his brow. Then he looked away. “What are you doing, Nia?” He was angry.

“I need you, Dan.”

He gritted his teeth. “Damn it, Nia. You’ll only be hurt!”

“I’ve already been hurt. Now I need
you.”
Her hand wavered in the air close to his back. His body warmth lured her palm and she lowered it, touching the firmness of his flesh. It was all she could do not to cry out at its beckoning strength.

Daniel stiffened for an instant, shooting her another sidelong glance. His eyes reflected the moonlight; they held more vehemence now than anger. “I have to leave today. Do you know what that means? I can’t be with you. I can’t be here when you need me. Is that what you want?”

“I want you…now.”

“But what about tomorrow? And the next day…or week…or month? You’ve been through this, Nia. I can’t promise you anything!”

Closing her eyes, she moved against his back, wrapping her arms around his rock-hard middle and laying her cheek against his skin. Its vibrancy enhanced her own determination. Nothing he could say would change her mind.

“I hear everything you’re saying, Dan, but I need you.” She tightened her arms about him, spreading her fingers over his ribs. “I want you. Please…please don’t send me away.” There was no pleading in her voice, simply an expression from the heart. Responding to it, he turned in her arms, looking down at her with far greater tenderness.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been for me to turn away from you time and again? Do you have any idea what I want, babe?”

“Is it all that different from my need, Dan?” she asked, her eyes filled with the ache that she felt so deeply.

He seemed to grow more fierce before her eyes. “No, perhaps it isn’t. It’s every bit as demanding and all-consuming.
And
every bit as futile.” His tone softened. “Don’t you see, babe,” he murmured sadly, “I didn’t ask for you, either! I didn’t ask for this wanting and needing. And I don’t know what in the hell to do about it!”

Nia ran her hands through the matted coarseness on his chest and felt the warm, pulsing beat of his heart. “Can’t we just have now, this minute, this simple beauty, regardless of any future?” His texture fascinated her, capturing her gaze. She breathlessly admired the endless expanse of flesh, its well-formed muscle, its strategically placed furring. Driven by a burning deep within, she leaned against him and put her lips to that heated plain. His arms closed instinctively behind her.

“Oh, babe,” he rasped out his agony, “I do want you.”

“Then take me!” she cried, desperate at last.
“Do it!”

With a force as close to violence as he had ever come, he gripped her face in the vise of his hands and forced it upward. His eyes pierced hers in the darkness, surging into her trembling soul, searching for the answer to his anguish. It was there.

With a moan of surrender he crushed her lips beneath his, yielding to a pent-up hunger that devoured with the ferocity of that initial burst of released desire. She barely had time to gasp for air when he swept her off her feet and into his arms, cradling her protectively as he strode down the hall to the room with the low light, his room.

As though the first flurry of emotion had relieved him of that utter urgency, he laid her down amid the disarray of his sheets with a renewed gentleness. There was an animal sensuality about him as he slowly stretched out against her on the bed. Nia gasped at the beauty of his body, exploring the sturdiness of his arms and shoulders, the swell of his chest, as she had never had the freedom to do before.

He kissed her more tenderly then, parting her lips for the sweeping invasion of his tongue. Nia met it and offered it her essence, winding her own around it in an instinctive dance that was only the start of the mating she craved. She arched toward him, needing far more than his kiss, feeling his greater need, hard and strong against her. In that instant, wanting to give him everything, she deeply resented the night shirt he had so gallantly given her earlier.

They were well attuned to one another. Reading her thoughts, Daniel sat up, panting, and steadied himself as he drank of the passion-glow in her cheeks. Her eyes held the undisguised, sweet violet joy of anticipation that expressed far more than the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

Nia waited, watched, silently loved him with every fiber of her being until he finally moved his hand to the top button of her shirt and released it. There was a second, then a third, each widening, lengthening that strip of ivory flesh, his to adore. She had never remembered wanting a man like this, had never remembered needing to be touched so badly. The years had given her a maturity that added to every ounce of her appreciation.

With the final button Daniel pushed the dark fabric aside. His hands trembled under the strain of control, the effort toward a leisure that denied the thrust of his own aching need. She felt the cool air for an instant until the fire of his gaze began its descent, warming her throat, each breast in turn, her middle, her legs, the completeness of her naked beauty.

“Oh, Nia…” He barely managed a scratching whisper as his hands traced the journey his eyes had just completed. “Nia…”

As ever, her level of self-control was much lower than his. In his presence she forgot all else. There was neither her work nor his nor that nightmare of destruction they had both witnessed earlier. There was only Daniel, in the firm, virile flesh, moving toward her.

“Daniel,” she moaned, and when his fingers found her, she arched herself against them in dire need. “It seems that I’ve wanted you so very long,” she begged raggedly. “Please…hurry…”

He moved back, then straightened and skimmed her cream-soft length again. His eyes smoldered with the deep fires of yearning that this woman had lit in him; he, too, had waited forever. With slow deliberation he dropped his hands to his waistband and lowered his shorts.

The male perfection of him was nearly more than Nia could bear. He was an athlete from top to bottom, leanly masculine, vibrantly hard. Courting warnings of imminent explosion, she scrambled to kneel on the bed before him. There was so much to touch—he was so supremely, masculinely beautiful.

And she did touch him, stroking the lines of his body, caressing the sensitive points that he couldn’t deny. At last she knew the full measure of the power that she held over him.

“So strong and beautiful,” she murmured, drunk with passion as she stretched upward toward him. Her arms circled his neck to bring their bodies flush against one another. His nakedness incited her ardor as hers did his; she was scarcely aware that he had slipped the shirt from her shoulders until his hands spread across her bare back and bottom, pressing her ever closer. It was with an unconsciously fluid grace that this tall man’s frame followed her back to the bed. Their bodies meshed instinctively, his long, lean, rangy one settling over her, his hips fitting snugly between her thighs. Simultaneously they had reached the limit of control.

“Now, Daniel, now…”

“Yes, babe…” Then he cried aloud, a fevered cry of victorious possession as he claimed what her love offered.

For Nia there had never been anything quite so rich as the sharing which she had with Daniel. He was brilliant in his pace setting, positively masterful in his reading of her body. Had he loved her with all his heart—as she did him—he could not have worshipped her more. In turn, he responded to her knowing fingers with a height of arousal that lifted them both far beyond anything either of them had known in the past.

Later, snuggling exhausted in Daniel’s protective embrace, Nia marvelled at the rarity of their joint explosion and wondered why life couldn’t always be so glorious.

“Daniel… ?” she whispered, tipping her mahogany head back to study him. “Dan …?” His eyes were closed, their dark lashes lying luxuriously above his cheekbones. There was a light sheen of perspiration on his forehead and nose, a similar dampness on his chest.

“Ummmm?” One dark brown eye opened, warm still in the aftermath of their loving.

Suddenly Nia didn’t know what to say. What she
wanted
to say was “I love you,” yet she couldn’t permit herself that luxury. It would only complicate things. It would only make things worse. There was still the light of day with which to contend…and the utter futility of her love. It was best that it was left unpledged.

Lowering her lips, she feather-touched them to the flat dot of his nipple. His helpless gasp was emotionally satisfying. “Are you …all right?” she asked softly.

“Better than all right.” He smiled, lifting a hand to caress her face. “That was the nicest thing that’s happened to me in a very, very long time.”

“Me, too.” She hesitated. “You’re not sorry?”

He spoke so gently that his words brought tears to her eyes. “Of course I’m sorry, babe. I’m sorry that I can’t spend the next four weeks here in bed with you.”

“Coming from you,” she smiled, “that’s quite a compliment. The next four weeks are the height of your season.”

“Not anymore.”

“No?”

“No!” He grinned wickedly. With a firm but gentle hand he pulled her atop him. “There…” He drew out the word in a long sigh of relief at their renewing intimacy. “This beats all….” Then, with a thorough kiss that stirred her senses afresh, he gave her a second very graphic, very powerful demonstration. She had no further argument.

Unfortunately, Harlan McKay did.

I
t was the sound of Daniel’s angry voice that first pierced her consciousness. Confused and groggy, she sat up, struggling to recall where she was and why. Her tousled head swung toward the open door when his deep voice thundered again.

“I know that, Harlan, but the team can just do without me for a few hours. For God’s sake, I’ll be there tomorrow morning!” There was a pause for the Breaker owner’s argument. Then Daniel spoke again, his voice taut. “I know what my contract says, and this
is
an emergency. You supposedly pay assistant coaches to cover for me at times like these.” Again a pause. “Damn it, Harlan, I am not
abandoning
you! Something personal has come up; I’ve already changed my reservations to an early morning flight out tomorrow. With the time change, I’ll be in San Diego well before the game.” Pause. “That’s my business,” more sternly, “not yours.” Pause. “Harlan, don’t be ridiculous! If it’s team morale you’re worried about, you can tell them I’ve got the flu and didn’t want to infect any of them. I can assure you they’ll never miss me.” A final pause and a sigh. “I’ll
be
there. Ten
A
.
M
. their time. Goodbye, Harlan.”

Nia barely had time to pull the sheet over her before Daniel appeared at the door. He wore nothing but a thick terry towel slung low on his hips. His hair was wet and mussed. It was obvious that she had slept through his shower as well as at least one other phone call.

When he saw that she was awake his scowl melted instantly. “Hi, babe.” He smiled gently. “I’m sorry. Did that wake you?”

Returning his smile, she held out her hand and drew him down to sit beside her on the bed. “It’s all right. I wouldn’t have wanted to sleep had I known you were up.”

“You didn’t get much sleep,” he chided, arching a dark brow suggestively.

“As I recall,” she mirrored the look, “neither did you.” Then she recalled the urgency of the situation and sobered. “Daniel, you didn’t have to change your plans—”

“I wanted to.”

“But I don’t expect you to do things like that. You’ve got to leave with the team. I know that. I’ve known it all along.” Which didn’t make the prospect any more appealing, of course.

With a lunge that she didn’t expect Daniel took her hands, held them apart and pinned her to the bed. His body loomed above her and he had a look of good-humored determination. “Look, Antonia,” he drawled her name with gusto. “I’ve just informed Harlan that I will be taking a later plane. The arrangements have already been made. My reservations have already been changed. Everything is done. And I haven’t done anything but what
I wanted to do!
Now,” he took an exaggerated breath, “I’ve had my fill of back-talk for the morning. Are you ready to go shopping?”

Her heart brimming with a happiness that spilled onto her cheeks in a rosy blush, she shook her head.

“No?” He eyed her, skeptical of the mischievous grin that played across her lips. Again she shook her head.

“And why not?” The corner of his mouth twitched when she shrugged. Releasing her hands, he reached for the sheet that covered her. He had obviously begun to understand. Her hands free to touch him now, Nia made that understanding complete. It was some time before they were, in fact, ready to go.

It was less than twenty-four hours later that Nia stood at the window of the airline terminal watching Daniel’s plane pull away from the boarding tunnel, turn, and slowly taxi toward the runway. The pale pink light of day was fast warming to yellow as it spilled glowingly over Boston Harbor.

It was barely seven in the morning. They had been up since five. But then, sleep had not been a major priority in either of their minds since Friday. Their time together had been far too precious to be wasted.

Nia braced her hand against the thickness of the window as the plane moved further off. Daniel had been wonderful. Patient. Compassionate. Fun. Even loving, if she gave way to her own wildest imaginings.

They had spent most of Saturday shopping—for a new head-to-toe and down-to-the-skin wardrobe for Nia, for a full supply of food for her stay at his house, even for a few things that
he
needed for the trip to the West Coast. There had been time to talk, and time to walk in the woods, and, of course, time to make love.

The now-distant plane disappeared for several moments, then reappeared in a whirr of motion—or was it the misting of her eyes that blurred it so?—as it crossed her line of vision, surging faster and further, then off and up, higher into the sky and away. He was gone.

Nia took a deep breath, only then growing aware of the racing of her pulse that had accompanied the plane’s ascent. It had taken a part of her with it; she would surely need time to adjust. In the past day she had come to love him more than ever, and it hurt, this parting. A long ten days would pass before she saw him again. Already she missed him!

Without him the house would be lonely, though signs of him were everywhere. Was that part of the punishment—to be so near yet so very far away? Tonight she would sleep in his bed, feeling lost in its bigness, cool without his warmth. Her mind would re-create the solid feel of him against her, the musky scent of his skin on the sheets, the even cadence of his breathing by her ear. And his passion—that would be pure memory.

With a soft groan she turned her back on the window and headed for the car. The past thirty-six hours had been the most beautiful she had ever known, remarkably so considering the harrowing nature of the turn of events that had thrust them together Friday night. But it was the beauty that stood out, the joy, the love; she was convinced that to have lived these hours was worth the agony she might well suffer now.

Her first order of business Monday morning was a stop at Bill Austen’s office to tell him what had happened to her house on Friday night. She would be staying with a friend, she told him, then handed him the number in case he needed to contact her after hours.

He recognized the phone exchange instantly. “Weston? A friend?”

“That’s right,” she answered awkwardly, hoping she had imagined the suspicion in his voice. “He’s away. I’m keeping his house company.”

Had it been her inability to look him straight in the eye that had given her away…or the quiver in her voice…or the one clue she’d inadvertently dropped? Whatever it had been, Bill guessed accurately. “Strahan?”

“He’s away.”

“But it
is
his house?”

“Yes.” Thank goodness she had long since told Bill that Daniel was out of the feature. A replacement had even been found in one Chad Donnelly of Atlanta, the country’s top seeded racquetball player.

A sly smile—a rarity for Bill—added to her chagrin, however. “I was wondering whether that relationship would go anywhere.”

“Bill, that’s a truly presumptuous thing to say.”

“No, Nia. Simply observant. And certainly not meant as any kind of an insult. From what the men around here say, you’re damned fussy about who you see. And from the little I know about Strahan, you could have done worse.”

“He’s a fine man!” she burst out in defense.

“I
know that. Wasn’t
I
the one who recommended him for this story in the first place?”

Nia blushed. “You were.”

“And your opinion of the man now is quite a turnaround from the blatant skepticism I heard in this very office just about a month ago,” he teased her lightly. Only later would it occur to her that he, too, was trying to help her forget about the ruin of the house. Right now, she was embarrassed.

“We all make mistakes.”

“I’m glad you can admit it.”

“And speaking of admitting errors,” she deliberately changed the subject while she had a modicum of poise left, “has there been any further word from Mahoney?”

Bill shook his head. “We don’t really expect any. He got his publicity with the deposition. Our lawyers feel that he won’t push his luck by blowing it out of proportion. It could backfire on him.” Nia snorted her disgust but Bill went quickly on. “Don’t worry about things here. We’re all together on this Mahoney thing and the magazine—every publication in the city, for that matter—is behind us all the way. As far as the house goes, if you’ve got to take care of cleaning up, we’ll cover for you. You’ve been doing more than your share for months.”

Relieved by his support and appreciative of his offer, she smiled warmly, “Thanks, Bill. I’ve got to contact the insurance company and make a few other calls, but I probably won’t do much else until Daniel—” The spontaneous confession had slipped out unbidden; Nia bit her tongue.

But Bill rose to the occasion with instant reassurance. “It’s all right. I’m glad he’s there to help you.” He tucked his chin lower and peered over the rim of his glasses. “Is it very difficult…his traveling? I know how you feel about that sport.”

There was a sadness to her chuckle that was echoed in her wide violet eyes. “You do, don’t you.” She sighed in resignation. “Yes, it is difficult. There are those of us in life, I’m afraid, who are simply gluttons for punishment.”

“The team is on the West Coast, isn’t it?” he asked, frowning.

“Uh-huh. For ten days. Uh—make that nine. You see,” she forced a brightness as she directed her encouragement inward, “the time does pass!”

Very, very slowly. With a wealth of loneliness. And more than a smattering of doubt. What a fool she had been to fall in love! And with this man! Insane! She had known precisely what to expect; there was no one to blame but herself. To compound the misery she was staying at his house—granted, under extenuating circumstances, but staying at his house nonetheless. What kind of an idiot was she? If she possessed any common sense she would be out looking for an apartment in which to stay until the house was rebuilt …or the land sold. The future was in such doubt— perhaps that was why she stubbornly clung to Daniel. He was a steadying force, a friend, and regardless of what became of their affair, she somehow knew she could count on him.

He called her once a day and his voice was instantly reviving. The road trip had begun with jet lag and a particularly frustrating loss to San Diego on Sunday. No, Harlan was not still angry at him. Yes, he was managing to slowly catch up on his sleep. And …he missed her. Why,
why
did he say things like that? It made hanging up only that much more difficult!

It was during the interminable stretches between calls that Nia agonized. Against her will she recalled the long separations from David— separations during which, she was later to learn, he had had himself one hell of a good time. Was Daniel doing the same now? There was always that doubt, that nagging doubt. It was simply a question of how long she could bear it.

The second game of the trip was played on Tuesday night against the Phoenix Suns. With a decisive Breaker win, the division title was clinched for the New England team. Daniel’s relief was contagious; he was much more relaxed when he called her, and she, in turn, was pleased. But he had awakened her from a nightmare of loneliness and betrayal when he’d called at a very late one in the morning, eastern time. At the end of the game she had promptly dozed off, having decided that he wouldn’t call. Now, not more than twenty minutes later, she awoke with a jerk. Even in her hazy state, his affection and honest-to-goodness excitement flowed clearly over the line. The connection was no sooner severed, however, than she grew fearful again. Was he out on the town now, enjoying that carefree bachelor existence? It was his by rights, yet the thought of his holding another woman as he had held her hurt.

Misery kept her up for much of the night and she was less than her cheerful self, indeed, downright grumpy, when she reached the
Eastern Edge
stronghold the next morning. While stalled in a messy traffic jam at the turnpike exit she had vowed to wait until Daniel returned, then move out and away, lock, stock and barrel. She was still her own boss, she had informed herself with an indignant and thoroughly self-reproachful scowl!

Yet when Bill appeared at her office with a long envelope that just happened to contain the specifics of a
Western Edge
assignment and a series of plane tickets that would take her into Los Angeles on Thursday, then on to San Francisco on Friday through the following Tuesday night, she was positively ecstatic.

“Bill! How did you ever manage it?”

“I managed,” was all he would say, but his smile was a satisfied one as he vanished. It didn’t take her long to realize that he must have held the Breakers’ schedule before him when he’d arranged her trip. The team was scheduled to play L.A. on Thursday, Seattle on Friday, Portland on Sunday, and finally Golden State on Tuesday. She would catch the Lakers and Golden State—two out of four—not bad! And her scheduled flight home early Wednesday morning was—she would lay money on it—most likely the same one that would carry the team.

In the aftermath of Bill’s magnanimous presentation Nia’s mood did an abrupt about-face. The rest of Wednesday flew by in a whirl of excitement that touched nearly everyone with whom she came in contact. For the record, in a story she offered repeatedly through the day, she was looking forward both to the assignment and to a long-overdue visit with her family. Her heart’s thrill, however, revolved around seeing Daniel.

By the time she was back in the house that night awaiting Daniel’s call, however, she had grown apprehensive once more. It was a replay of that scene in Philadelphia, with a far deeper involvement now. Then he had been neither her loved one nor her lover. Now he was both. And with that deeper involvement, unfortunately, went much more to lose. Would he want her to come? Was he enjoying his freedom? Would he resent her intrusion, even though it had been managed by a well-intentioned third party? What could she expect to find?

This time, given the greater distance and the fact that, with no actual work in Los Angeles, she could always fly straight into San Francisco should Daniel not want her, she had decided not to take a chance on a surprise visit. As soon as he called she popped the news. His response was everything she might have hoped.