In Serena's Web (12 page)

What she felt then, a terrible, violent need to have him closer than he could ever be, made her understand for the first time how loving could be madness. She was helpless against it, utterly unable to withstand the demands of her body for his.

If she had known that certain death would follow
his possession, she would not have been able to turn away from him, would have gone happily to her end….

Brian’s hand was sliding over her flesh, tracing her narrow rib cage and tiny waist, smoothing the curve of her hip. She locked her fingers in his hair and held him, eyes closed, all her consciousness focused on his hand, on his mouth tugging at her breast, his hungry, swirling tongue.

She could feel him tremble against her, feel the urgency of his body as he moved. His hand roamed over her thigh, seeking, and she jerked convulsively with a smothered moan when he found her warmth. Instantly the ache in her grew, hollow and hurting almost unbearably, the boundaries of it expanding until she felt nothing but emptiness and desperate need. A need for something she could not even put into words.

“Brian …” Her voice was a thread of sound, her plea a mindless, wordless one.

“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered hoarsely, his head lifting and green eyes glowing with incandescent desire. “So warm …” His fingers explored gently, stroking, and she bit her lip with a
gasp at the pleasure his touch evoked. Her hands moved to his shoulders and gripped hard.

She cradled him instinctively when he moved over her, her eyes fixed on his taut face, her breath coming quickly. She could feel another seeking touch, and then he was kissing her, deep, drugging kisses that stole what little breath she had. She tried to draw him closer, blind instinct guiding her, but Brian resisted.

“I’ll hurt you.” He groaned, his eyes glazed, voice strained. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Then he groaned again, and his eyes closed briefly in anguish. “Damn, what am I saying? This is only the beginning of the hurt….”

Words, she somehow knew, would never reassure him. She arched upward, her breasts brushing against him, lips seeking the tense angle of his jaw. Her hands caressed the clenched muscles of his back, her arms drawing him insistently closer. She moved against him, and he shuddered.

“Rena—”

She could feel his need, feel his body demanding hers, and her own need made her ruthless. Now was all that mattered, and she didn’t have
to pretend. She touched him, stroked his rigid shoulders, her limbs entwining with his, until he groaned, defeated.

He moved suddenly, powerfully, and the pain caught her by surprise. Her eyes widened, and she cried out at the shock. But even as anxiety knifed through the glaze of passion in his eyes, she had forgotten the pain. Wonderingly she absorbed the alien fullness, the incredible closeness. A primitive possessiveness almost overwhelmed her, and her arms tightened around him.

Hers. He had made himself hers.

“Rena?” It was a breath of sound, concerned, unsteady.

In answer her body surged upward, claiming him as he had claimed her, and Brian groaned again. He moved in a steady rhythm, taking care, she realized, not to hurt her again. But Serena’s body demanded as his did, and neither could control the unleashing of their ravenous need. Her every movement against him, every touch, fueled the fire until only the drive for release controlled them.

Serena felt a new, impossibly powerful tension
invade her body, filling her throat. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, and she was hurting again with a taut inner ache. She thought she’d go mad if the tension didn’t ease, the ache didn’t stop. She wanted to move frantically, to reach for something beyond reach, to hold tight to some anchor in the violence of her own feelings.

But there was nothing to hold to….

Then, suddenly, the tension splintered and the ache swelled with a surging power, gripping her body in wild rapture. She felt she had flown without wings, breathed without air, captured a unicorn. And she had never felt closer to another human being. She felt as well as heard Brian’s hoarse cry, and she cradled him tenderly as they both found a joyous peace.

His body lay heavily on hers, trembling, his breathing harsh. He lifted his head at last, gazing at her with eyes that were still hot, eyes flickering in surprise. Serena felt a stirring within her, a renewal of passion, and instinctively held him with supple inner muscles. Brian made a soft sound deep in his chest, and bent his head to kiss her, gently at first and then with building need.

His hands caressed slowly, as though he was learning her all over again. His mouth touched and tasted. He held himself still, his restraint evoking a deep and welling passion needing nothing but their closeness to sustain it.

Their gazes locked together, dark green and smoky gray, in a communication as intimate as that of their bodies. Then suddenly Brian buried his face in her neck with a hoarse sound, and Serena held him hard, a whimper escaping her lips.

Serena felt bereft when he left her, but she was only alone for an instant. He was still touching her, stroking her body gently, and the aloneness was a fleeting thing. With a fluid motion he slipped from the bed, lifting her into his arms, kissing her. The room was dim, the heavy drapes permitting only faint light to enter, but she could see the tenderness of his expression, and gloried in it.

Moments later they were in the shower, still without lights, still curiously silent. It was a new intimacy, wordless, a rediscovery of each other’s bodies slippery with soap, and kisses in the steamy heat. There was soft laughter, then the
rough caress of towels as they dried each other before Brian carried her again to the bed.

He left her briefly to go to the door. A soft click told her that he had notified the world not to disturb them, and then he returned. Serena went into his arms, her body languid and warm. She rested her cheek on his hair-roughened chest, smiling as his hands stroked her back, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

Content, she slept.

    The peal of the telephone was a rude intrusion on Serena’s peaceful dreams, and she reached instantly to stop its demand. In her first waking moment she knew instantly where she was and whom she was with, and she turned her head to gaze dreamily at Brian’s sleeping face. He was on his stomach, one arm holding her waist possessively, and she smiled as she brought the receiver to her ear.

“Hello?”

There was a moment of silence and then a dry male voice. “Well, I guessed as much.”

“Morning, Josh,” she murmured.

“It’s almost afternoon,” he told her politely.

“Is it? That’s nice.”

Josh laughed. “All right, I won’t disturb you. Just take care you two don’t starve to death, okay?”

Serena instantly felt a pang of hunger, and wondered if she would ever conquer her appetite. “We won’t,” she told her brother.

“I’ll see you … when I see you.”

“Bye, Josh.” Serena reached to cut off the sound of his laughter, then punched for room service. Hearing a response she said firmly, “Food. And champagne. For two.”

The voice was a bit bewildered, but game. “Yes, miss. That is to Mr. Ashford’s—?”

“Certainly to Mr. Ashford’s room,” Serena responded with hauteur.

The voice recovered its own poise. “Of course. The menu. That is, we offer an excellent brunch.”

“Fine,” Serena said, amiable now. “How long?”

“Three quarters of an hour, miss.”

“Fine,” she repeated, and cradled the receiver
gently. She turned her head to watch as Brian’s eyes slowly opened.

His gaze, focusing on her face, was bemused at first. Then the green eyes darkened and the arm around her waist drew her even closer. “How can I want you again when I’m barely awake?” he asked huskily.

“I don’t know, but I’m glad.” She turned in his arms, her own going around his neck. Her lips lifted to his, responding instantly.

“We have to talk,” he murmured against her warm flesh.

She trailed a languid hand up his back, feeling a dizzying sense of power when he shuddered at her touch. “Later,” she said hoarsely, probing ribs covered with hard flesh, tugging at the soft hair on his chest.

“Later. Too late. Damn you, Rena.” But it was a thick caress rather than a curse, and his touch was possessive and tender, his kiss urgent.

    The waiter was forced to cool his heels for some minutes after he knocked. When Brian answered
the door wearing a robe, signed for the meal, and took charge of the cart himself, the waiter didn’t even think of offering to open the champagne. He’d heard a giggle and a muffled curse, and knew a busy man when he saw one.

Brian rolled the cart into the room and went to open the drapes, wincing at the bright light that immediately assaulted him. When his eyes were finally adjusted to it, he turned to gaze at the lady sitting up in his bed. It took about two seconds for him to realize their food would grow cold as long as Serena remained uncovered.

He glanced around to spot what she’d worn to his room hours before, finding a scrap of lace and silk that wouldn’t have offered cover for an open-minded midget. He lifted the creation, subjected it to a pained stare, then looked at her.

“You could have been awake,” she said in explanation.

“So you came loaded for bear?”

“Something like that.” She smiled at him.

Brian sighed, dropped the confection onto a chair, and went to unearth one of his shirts, which
he tossed at her. “Put that on before I let a perfectly good meal go to waste.”

Serena slipped into the shirt, then hesitated playfully before drawing it closed. “Maybe—”

“Serena.”

Meekly she buttoned the shirt. But her eyes danced.

“Wanton,” he said accusingly.

“Wantin’ is right,” she murmured.

Brian refused to take notice of puns. He took notice of the cart instead. “Champagne,” he said, startled. “Good Lord, it’s our first meal of the day.”

“Champagne isn’t for a time, it’s for a state of mind. I was starving and happy. So, food and champagne.”

Brian seemed about to say something, then shook his head and began working on the cork while Serena slid to the edge of the bed and uncovered the dishes.

Their glasses clinked together in a silent toast, and they ate while sprawled casually on the bed. Serena, as usual, ate enough for two all by herself.

“Feeding you,” Brian said, “would break the budget of a small nation.”

Some time later, after the dishes had been piled on the cart, he said finally, reluctantly, “It didn’t change anything, Rena.”

B
RIAN BRACED HIMSELF
for her reaction. He had expected—what had he expected? Pain? Tears? Recriminations? However, again Serena fooled him.

“I know, Brian.” Her voice was gentle as always, her smile tranquil. Curled on his bed wearing only his shirt and holding a champagne glass, she was so lovely, it hurt him just to look at her.

Brian took a deep breath. “Rena, I won’t make a promise I might not be able to keep.”

“I don’t expect you to.”

He fumbled for the words to make her understand, wondering if he wanted that understanding for her sake or for his. “I don’t—dammit, I didn’t want to hurt you. Don’t you understand that it’ll be worse now?”

“Because I could forget a first love, but never a first lover?” She shook her head slightly. “No, Brian. It would have been worse if I hadn’t come to you. Don’t
you
understand? I would have felt cheated for the rest of my life.” She hesitated, then added very softly, “There never would have been another lover, you see. Because there’ll never be another love.”

He groaned. “Dammit, Rena.”

“Yes, I know.” Her lips twisted. “That wasn’t fair. I suppose I have to be so honest to atone for the tricks. But this isn’t a trick, Brian. And after this we won’t talk about it. When you want out, I’ll know it. I won’t try to hold you. It was
my
decision to take what I could. You aren’t responsible for that, any more than you’re responsible for my falling in love with you.”

“If you’re telling me not to feel guilty,” he said roughly, “forget it.”

Quietly, firmly, she said, “I’m telling you that I hope you’ll enjoy this affair of ours every bit as much as I will. I’m not deceiving myself, and I’m not pretending—I promise you that. And I won’t have any regrets when it’s over.”

Brian wanted to believe her. He didn’t have to look too deeply into his soul to know that he couldn’t have left her right now no matter what her response might have been. He had never felt as he had with Serena in his arms, never known that depth of emotion; his desire for her was stronger than it had ever been … and impossible to fight.

But he knew from experience that desire waned, and that was what troubled him, because she seemed certain her love would not.

“Brian.” She set both their glasses aside, and went into his willing arms. “Just accept that it’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind, all right?”

“I don’t seem to have much choice,” he murmured.

“No.” She smiled at him. “You don’t. I took the choice out of your hands. And now, do we really
have to keep talking? Seems like an awful waste of time to me.”

Brian couldn’t have agreed more.

    Brian stopped thinking of the future and endings and pain. He wasn’t accustomed to being an ostrich, to burying his head in the sand, but he knew only too well that if he faced the reality of his relationship with Serena, it would be the beginning of the end.

And he didn’t want that.

He felt a curious compulsion to grab what he could, to hold as much of Serena as he possibly could. It was an emotion he’d never felt before, and he ascribed it to his certainty that their only future was now.

He also discovered, rather to his surprise, that his fascination with Serena the woman continued, even grew stronger. The troublesome “child” he had escorted for four weeks seemed to have grown up. Yet she was still a woman who cared about people, and because she cared, she embraced their troubles.

•   •   •

Brian realized over the next few days that the entire hotel staff was known to her by name, from the manager right on down to the maids and maintenance people.