Last Virgin In California (Mills & Boon Desire) (23 page)

“I also did a ’56 Corvette, a ’64 Thunderbird and a ’69 Roadrunner,” he told her.

Marie laughed and Davis realized anew how much he’d missed that sound. “What’s so funny?”

“Muscle cars, every one of them,” she said, still smiling. “How very male of you.”

He grinned. “The relationship between a man and
his car is a primal one, lady, and not to be taken lightly.”

“‘I stand corrected,’” she said, tossing one of his quotes back at him.

Instantly Davis did the same, saying, “‘You don’t have to stand on my account.’”

And in that moment, they were both thrown back into the memory of their night together. Tension rippled in the air around them. Marie held her breath, fighting down the swirling sensations fluttering to life in her stomach. The look in his eyes warmed her through, despite what she’d just heard him say. Or rather, what he
didn’t
say.

In all his talk about opening a shop and restoring cars, there hadn’t been a mention of family. A wife.
Her
. He clearly saw his future as a solitary one. Marie pushed the twinge of regret aside. She’d never expected him to stick around forever. In fact, she’d thought she’d seen the last of him two days ago.

She was in love with a man who, figuratively speaking, was keeping one foot outside the door, ready to run. Gazing into his eyes, she saw the desire in those blue depths and knew he found her attractive. Knew he wanted her. But she also knew it couldn’t last.

On that thought, she shifted her gaze from his. “I, uh,” she said, as she straightened out the toolbox, “used to think about expanding Santini’s. But I don’t know enough about restoration to make it work.
Besides,” she added, “there never seems to be enough time or money.”

The back door flew open, letting another rush of rain and wind sweep in. Mama Santini groaned, slammed the door, then dropped her packages onto the kitchen table.

“Hi, Mom.”

Mama gasped, clutched the base of her throat and whirled around, all in one move. “Marie! Lord, girl, you scared ten years off me. Hello, Davis. Nice to see you again.”

“Ma’am…” He pushed himself to his feet, then offered a hand to Marie. She took it, and when he pulled her up, too, he kept a firm hold on her hand.

Mama noticed, but thankfully didn’t say a word about it.

“The sink’s fixed?” she asked.

“Yes,” Marie answered, reluctantly tugging her hand free. Her fingers felt suddenly cold without the warm clasp of Davis’s hand. “Davis fixed it.”

“Well, thank you,” Mama said with a smile. Taking off her coat and draping it cross the back of one of the chairs, she said, “You’ll stay to dinner, won’t you? It’s only fair to let me thank you for all your hard work.”

Marie slanted a look at him and was surprised to find him staring at her. His eyes held a question and she knew he was waiting to see if
she
wanted him to stick around. She met his gaze squarely and echoed
her mother’s request, though she was hoping for much more than just dinner.

“Please stay.”

He nodded, then glanced at her mother. “Thank you, ma’am, I believe I would like to stay for a while.”

A while, he’d said, and Marie had a feeling he, too, was referring to more than just dinner. He wanted to stay…be with her, for
a while
. She wondered just how long he considered a while to be and knew that even if he’d meant years, it wouldn’t be long enough for her.

The next few hours passed quickly. Though he and Marie were surrounded by family every minute, he’d discovered that he didn’t feel nearly as out of place as he had before. And Davis wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Becoming used to the feeling of being sucked down by quicksand didn’t prevent a person from sinking. It only served to blind you to the coming danger.

Davis helped Angela set up her new CD player, wiring in the speakers and laughing with the family when Jeremy insisted on playing his CD first. They all stoically sat through what seemed like years’ worth of children’s folk songs, though he managed to avoid joining in on the choruses. While the women went in to finish dinner and set the table, he and Jeremy played video games.

“This is cool that you’re here,” the boy said, and pushed a button that destroyed Davis’s onscreen car.

He winced and pushed his own button, but nothing happened. What is it with kids? he wondered. Were they born knowing how to play these things?

“My dad died, y’know,” Jeremy said suddenly, and Davis looked at him.

“Yeah, I know.” A pang of sadness for the boy rose up inside him. Davis knew all too well what it was to lose a parent. But at least Jeremy still had his mother and grandmother and two aunts who loved him. The kid was luckier than a lot of others his age.

Luckier than Davis had been.

“I don’t really remember him,” Jeremy was saying.

Davis thought that was probably best. If he did remember, he’d only torture himself with memories and spend his free time constructing imagined “what if” scenarios. As he himself had done for too long.

“And except for me, it’s always all girls around here,” Jeremy said with a sneer, “so I like it when you come over.”

“Thanks,” Davis said, smiling. The boy was learning early to take comfort from his own kind. “I like it, too.” In fact, it surprised him how much he was enjoying himself.

The house was cozy and filled with a warmth that seemed to beckon a person farther inside. Laughter
and hushed conversation flowed from the kitchen, and Davis caught himself listening for the sound of Marie’s voice.

“Why don’t you marry Marie and then you can be here all the time?” Jeremy said.

Swiveling his head to look at the boy, Davis just stared at him for a long minute or two, wondering what to say.

“I mean,” the kid continued, sparing Davis a reply, “I’d like it if my mom got married again even better. ’Cause having a father would be pretty awesome. But havin’ an uncle would be pretty good, too.”

Uncle. Uncle Davis.

Damn. He was fairly sure he liked the sound of that. Frowning to himself, Davis felt the unmistakable suction of quicksand pulling him under.

Jeremy set his game paddle down on the floor in front of him and turned to look at him. When he didn’t get the man’s attention, he patted his knee until Davis looked at him.

“Can you come back tomorrow evening?” he asked quietly, shooting a nervous look toward the kitchen, as if hoping the females would keep themselves scarce.

“Why tomorrow?” Davis asked.

Jeremy leaned into him and whispered in a voice that could have been heard in Chicago, “Because tomorrow we go to get our Christmas tree, and if
you don’t come then we can’t go to the chop-it-down place.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause a girl can’t chop down a tree.” Disgusted, Jeremy shook his head.

“Is that right?” Davis asked, smiling at the boy’s scowl.

“Everybody knows that. That’s how come we always go to the grocery store to buy one.”

“Ah…”

“So will ya?”

Christmas tree shopping. “Uncle Davis.” He was getting in too deep here, and for the life of him, couldn’t find a way out. Looking into the boy’s eager expression, he knew that way out didn’t lead across Jeremy’s wounded feelings. So, he thought, Christmas tree shopping it was. After all, there was a first time for everything. And it was a good excuse to see Marie again. “Sure.”

“Promise?’ the boy asked, studying his face.

He thought about it for a moment, knowing that once he’d given his word, he wouldn’t break it. Did he really want to do this? And a voice inside him whispered,
“Yes.”

“Promise.”

T
he evening with the Santini family was over, and Marie led Davis up the steps to her apartment. For the last few hours, she’d watched him with her family. Had seen how easily he fit in and how much her mother, sisters and nephew liked him. And yet she hadn’t been blind to the fact that even while enjoying himself, Davis had held a part of himself back.

Only a couple of weeks ago, she hadn’t known Davis Garvey existed. She’d lived her life and thought it complete. She’d been
happy
, if a little lonely. But now that he’d entered her life, she knew that once he left it, happiness would never be harder to find.

The rain had slackened off to a drizzle that dampened her clothes and seemed to soak right down
to her bones. A chill crept over her, but Marie had the strangest sense that it had nothing to do with the weather. In her heart she was already preparing for him to leave.

As she sensed he was.

The door swung wide and the single lamp she’d left burning cast a soft, golden light over the small living room. Her gaze went directly to the overstuffed sofa where Davis had first made love to her and she knew she’d never be able to enter this room without remembering every tiny detail of that night.

Even thinking about it made her body burn and hum with a kind of frenzied energy. And knowing that whatever she had with Davis wasn’t permanent did nothing to smother the flames she felt inside.

She closed the door behind him, and when she turned around, he was there. Just inches from her. She tipped her head back to look up at him, and her breath caught at the expression on his face. Desire, tenderness, regret, all pooled together and simmered in his eyes. A deeply throbbing ache settled around her heart.

“Marie…” He reached for her, and she caught his hand in hers, curling her fingers around his. “We have to talk. About the other night. About what’s between us.”

Was it just her, or was the word
goodbye
hidden in that statement? Marie didn’t want to hear it. Not tonight. Not now. She wanted one more night with
him. Well, actually, she wanted a lifetime’s worth of nights with Davis. But she would settle for one more…before he turned and stepped out of her life. She held on to his hand and brought it up to her face. Then, nuzzling her cheek against his palm, she said, “Don’t talk, Davis. Not now.”

He pulled in a long, shuddering breath and she watched different emotions chase each other across his features. But finally, regret was eased aside to be replaced by desire, and Marie knew that this one time, at least, she’d won.

“This is a mistake,” he said quietly, even as he moved in closer to her. “We’re too different. We want different things.”

“Tonight,” she said just as softly, “we want the same thing. Each other.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, “you’re right about that,” and cupped her face in his palms, tipping her mouth up to meet his. The kiss began as a gentle brush of lips against lips, but the instant their mouths met, an urgency burst into life between them.

He devoured her, his tongue opening her lips for his invasion, and when he swept inside her warmth, Marie leaned into him, groaning her surrender. Again and again he stroked her tongue with his, electrifying her bloodstream and sending shivers of expectation from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes.

Marie wrapped her arms around his neck and held on, feeling as though she was sitting in the lead
car on a roller coaster. Highs and lows seemed more frantic, more pulse pounding. Her stomach pitched, her mouth went dry and even the palms of her hands itched for him.

Hunger, raw and powerful roared through her, leaving her shaken but determined. She pulled at his windbreaker and he let her go long enough to tear it and his shirt off, baring his chest for her exploring hands. Then he turned his nimble fingers to the brass catches of her overalls. He flicked them open, and the overalls dropped to below her waist. Then he grabbed the hem of her tiny tank top and yanked it up and over her head.

The rush of cool air against her bare breasts puckered her nipples and Marie groaned again, more loudly this time, when Davis dipped his head to take first one, then the other into his mouth. Sensations rose up and shattered inside her. Incredible, the swell of emotions churning within. She clutched at his shoulders and his arms came around her, lifting her, bracing her back against the closed front door. The shock of the cold wood along her spine made her gasp and that gasp only built as she felt him ease her overalls and then her panties down and off her legs.

Free of her clothes, Marie gave herself up to the wildness rattling around within and wrapped both legs around his waist. He dipped his head, kissing her nipples one after the other. Tasting, sucking,
nipping at their sensitive tips, he pushed her higher, higher, closer to the edge of the precipice she knew was waiting for her. She leaned her head back against the door and stared unseeing at the ceiling while Davis did unimaginable things to her body…to her soul.

One strong arm supported her while Davis’s other hand dropped. She heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being yanked down and everything within her tightened. Soon, she told herself. Soon, she’d feel him inside her again. Know that sense of completion again.

“Damn it,” he muttered thickly, and Marie forced herself out of the sexual fog settling over her brain.

Breathless, she asked, “What? What is it?”

“I can’t do this one-handed,” he said, and every word sounded as though it had been squeezed from his throat.

She opened her eyes, looked at the small foil packet he held and understood. “Let me,” she said, and reached for it.

He gave it to her and kept his gaze locked with hers as she ripped the foil and pulled the condom from its wrappings. Letting her slide down against the door, Davis held her steadily as she reached for him. Slowly, tenderly, she smoothed the satin-thin material down over the length of him and he winced with the effort to hold himself in check.

“Marie…” He said her name on a moan, and the sound of his need fed her own.

She couldn’t wait. Couldn’t stand the tension coiling inside her. She needed him with a desperation she never would have thought possible. Marie closed her eyes and bit down hard on her bottom lip before saying softly, “Now, Davis. Please, now.”

“Now,” he echoed, and still bracing her against the door, slid himself home.

She gasped and arched into him, instinctively drawing him deeper inside. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and groaned like a dying man granted a last-minute pardon.

After savoring their joining for a brief moment, Davis withdrew from her only to plunge back inside deeper, harder. Her legs held him to her, her hands clawed at his back as she felt the tightness inside her grow and build. Higher, faster than ever before, they raced together toward the edge of oblivion, and when they found it, they tumbled into the abyss together, safe in each other’s arms.

Before the last tremor shuddered through her body, Marie whispered, “I love you.” And in the very next instant she knew she’d said the wrong thing.

Davis went utterly and completely still.

The echo of those three little words burrowed inside him and wrapped themselves around his heart. He closed his eyes against the warmth suddenly spreading through him. He couldn’t remember ever
hearing those words directed at him before. And now that they had been, he didn’t know what to say. Or do.

Slowly, carefully, he disengaged himself from her and gently set her back on her feet. In these first awkward moments, a strained silence slammed down between them and he was grateful she didn’t say anything more.

This was his own fault. He’d let himself get too close. Let
her
get too close. And now there was no way to leave her without hurting her.

“Davis,” she said, and he knew the temporary silence was finished. Now he’d have to talk and say the things he knew would tear at her heart and soul. He had to refuse the gift she’d offered him. Have to tell her that there was no future for her with a man who had no past.

“Marie,” he said quickly, wanting to stop her before she said those words again. “I’m not looking for anything permanent.”

“I didn’t say you were,” she said.

His gaze snapped to her. “But you said—”

She actually smiled at him. It was sad, regretful, but still a smile. “I said I love you. I do.”

He flinched. He’d never expected to hear those words. Had never put himself in the position where he
might
hear them. Hell, he didn’t know squat about love. About loving. Now, if she wanted to know how to pull together a recon mission in less than twenty-four
hours, he was her man. He could field-strip a machine gun and have it back together again in less time than it took to think about it. He could do a hundred push-ups without breaking a sweat, and if the corps demanded it, he could find a way to walk on water.

But damn it, when it came to love,
she
was the expert and he was as blind and stupid as any first-week grunt in boot camp.

“You and I, what we have together is…
good
,” he finished with feeling, even knowing that “good” was a major understatement. What he’d found with her was more than he’d ever thought existed.

“It’s more than good,” she said, as if reading his thoughts, “but I think you know that.”

His back teeth ground together and every cell in his body stiffened. Why was she being so damned
nice?
Any other woman would be dragging him over hot coals about now. But then, no other woman before Marie had ever claimed to love him. Of course she’d react differently than he’d expect. “Don’t make this harder on both of us,” he said.

“Don’t worry,” she said, and hooked the last of the buckles on her overalls.

He just stared at her. She hadn’t bothered to put her top back on, so the overalls barely covered her breasts. Her black hair was mussed, her eyes were overly bright and her mouth swollen from his kisses. And Davis wanted her more than life itself.

Which is what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Curling his hands into helpless fists at his sides, he waited for her to go on. Waited to give her the time to work up to telling him off. As he deserved.

“I didn’t mean to say the words out loud,” she continued. “It just sort of…slipped out.”

She was
apologizing
to him? “Damn it, Marie,” he said tightly, “
yell
at me. Throw something. Jeez, at least tell me what a bastard I am!”

She shook her head and chuckled humorlessly. “It wouldn’t help.”

It’d sure as hell help him, he wanted to say. It would relieve some of the overwhelming guilt that had settled in the pit of his stomach, making him feel cold all over. But then, he didn’t have the right to feel better, did he? This wasn’t about him. It was about her.

“Marie,” he said, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know that.”

“Don’t expect more from me than I can give.”

“I don’t expect anything from you, Davis.” She said it sadly, with a slow shake of her head.

“You should,” he said.

“Why? So I can be disappointed?” She shook her head again and walked past him to the sofa. There she sat down and curled her feet up under her. “No, thanks. But I won’t make this any easier on you, either, Davis. I can’t pretend I don’t love you. I do.”

Davis winced inwardly and fought his instinct to run. Hell. What kind of marine was he that three little words could make him turn tail like this? And what kind of man was he that he could face down armed-to-the-teeth enemies but a woman declaring her love brought him to his knees?

“I understand you don’t love me back,” she said quietly. “I guess it just happens that way sometimes,” she added, her voice getting smaller, quieter. “Fate playing little jokes.”

“Marie…”

“It’s okay, Davis,” she said, and folded her arms across her chest. “It really is. Some people you love. Some you don’t.”

It wasn’t okay. Nothing about this was okay.

“Marie, I care for you,” he said, and knew it wasn’t enough. Would never be enough for her.

A tiny, almost-not-there smile touched her mouth briefly. “I’m sure you do, Davis. But caring isn’t loving, is it?”

“No.” He squeezed that word past the knot in his throat and watched it hit her like a bullet. A prize bastard, that’s what he was. But even knowing that didn’t change a damn thing.

“Davis…if you don’t mind, I’m kind of tired, so…”

She wanted him to leave.

Not so surprising, he told himself. Why wouldn’t she? She confesses her love and he shuts down like
an unplugged computer. Emptiness welled up inside him, and it felt as though a black hole had opened wide to swallow his heart and the barren thing most people would call his soul.

He should have been better prepared for tonight. He’d known all along his time with Marie would end. Davis didn’t have relationships. He had encounters. Brief, fiery, encounters. This was the first time he’d actually gotten to know a woman. Like her. And though it was illogical and irrational, he couldn’t help feeling disappointed that she hadn’t even
asked
him to stay. It didn’t make any sense at all, but he wanted her to want him to stay even if he couldn’t.

No one had
ever
asked him not to leave.

And in this, at least, Marie was no different from the rest.

“All right,” he said quietly. “I’ll go.” Then, remembering, he added, “But until we know for sure about whether or not there’s a baby, I won’t go far.”

“Oh, Davis,” she said, and her voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re already so far away, I can’t reach you.”

She was right. And he could only hope that a benevolent God would have the good sense to
not
sentence an innocent baby to a life with him as its father.

He inhaled sharply, took one last look at her, opened the door and stepped outside. It didn’t surprise
him at all when the skies burst like a popped water balloon and drenched him with a wall of rain.

He deserved nothing less.