Tempestuous Eden (38 page)

“Oh, stop!” Blair gasped. “No, don’t stop …” she wailed in consternation. “You’re too good at this diplomacy,” she charged breathlessly, digging her fingers into his hair and almost crying out with want of him.

His words, spoken with bare coherence as he continued to mouth the flesh of her breasts, her throat, her shoulders, her arms with his lips, nipping, nuzzling gently, were still quellingly firm. “Tell me that you love me, Blair. Tell me that you want me, tell me that you will always be mine.”

Tears formed in her eyes. They were partially of joy, partially of need, partially of the sorrow to come. His hands moved in the water beneath their waists. His fingers brushed along her upper thighs, hypnotizing her to sobs as they taunted ever closer to the center of her delirious heat and need.

“I love you,” she murmured with a catch, arching against him. Why not vocalize the evident? “And I want you.” Strong fingers coursed into her and she gasped, then she was sighing her pleasure, saying all that she had been trying to deny to herself. “I will always be yours, I will always be waiting, I want you so badly, I’ll be anything you want, anywhere you want.”

His lips came back to hers, but he didn’t crush them. He was mumbling with as much gentle tenderness as he could summon while feeling he had really gone crazy with his urgency, raging out of control, and with the sweet, wonderful gratification of her words. “I’m a very good diplomat, darling, and I’ll need to be, because, ahhhhhh …”

He forgot his train of thought as her hands, coursing his back, trailed a core of obliterating fire with nails grazing down the small of his back to his buttocks.

“Because what?” Blair persisted, suddenly struck by his words.

“What?” he asked distractedly, entrapped and fascinated as his tongue flicked against a pulse beating rampantly along her collarbone. “Oh, Lord, you do taste delicious.”

“Craig!” Blair groaned in beseechment. “Because what? What are you talking about?”

He forced himself to meet her eyes, but he couldn’t release her. She had given so much to say all that she had; she had loved him enough to accept her own terror and accept him for what he was—or what she thought he was. He couldn’t tease any longer, he had to reassure her.

“I’m glad your Spanish is so proficient, my love. Because I’m not a spy or a diplomat of any kind any longer. I’m now the newest U.S. ambassador assigned to the embassy in Madrid. No more cloak-and-dagger, Blair, no more one last times. I’ll never be leaving you again.”

She was stunned speechless for several seconds. Then her lips began to tremble, “Oh, Craig! Really?”

“Really,” he guaranteed her with a solemn smile. Then he was surprised to see her eyes take on a glimmer he was coming to recognize all too well. The famous Huntington temper.

“Damn you, Taylor!” she hissed. “You made me go through all that misery when you could have just told me straight off the bat! You could have told me first, you could have called me in Washington …”

“I wasn’t set until that day in Washington!” he protested. “The final papers had to be signed, and after you refused to trust me—going so far as to steal my car to make your point!—I wasn’t going to tell you a damn thing until it was positive, present fact! And besides, I like to hear how much you love me. It’s good for my ego. Now, princess”—he jerked her back and took her into his arms and continued hoarsely—“it’s been long. Three long months. Do you think we could hold off any further serious discussion for a while?”

Blair’s anger faded and a smile slipped slowly but radiantly across her features. She stared at him for several seconds, absorbing all his words and suddenly thinking that all the gold in Fort Knox couldn’t possibly rival the incredible power of his gaze.
“You
stopped,” she said simply.

“Pardon?” he murmured. “What are you talking about now?”

She slid more snugly into his arms, arching against him, relishing the need she felt within the magnetic strength of his body.
“You
stopped,” she repeated. “I’m absolutely certain that I told you just minutes ago
not
to stop ….

“Oh. Ohhhhh …” Craig returned, drowning his words as he kissed her mouth fully.

His arms around her almost crushed her in their embrace, but Blair loved the feeling of being enveloped by him, touching flesh against flesh from head to toe. He was right; it had been an excruciatingly long time.

Still they broke again in the waist-high water. Craig reached out a hand to tilt Blair’s chin. His knuckles grazed tenderly against her cheek as he smiled. His thumb, rough, calloused, but ever gentle, very slowly traced the outline of her lips, the curve of her throat.

Then his fingers wound into her damp hair and he drew her to him, now planting kisses that were all fever from her forehead to her chin and all along the graceful arch of her neck. His tongue, warm and moist, drew circles along her earlobe as he uttered incomprehensible whispers that created a new wave of shivery delight.

Tears formed in Blair’s eyes as she pressed her lips to his shoulder, her teeth taunting him in return. She had never thought that he could really be hers for a lifetime … that they might actually have a lifetime … that she could thrill to his touch again and again, finding that sweet, delirious abandon.

He seemed to be finding every sensitized, erogenous zone on her, and yet was persistent to find more. She was exploring the breadth of his back with tantalizing fingers, tasting the salt of his corded neck, when suddenly he sank into the stream, kissing her navel just at the point where the water lapped below it. Blair became certain that she would soon slip beneath the surface with dizzying desire. But ever sensitive to the messages of her body, Craig scooped her high in his arms and carried her to a distant point on the shore, one sheltered by the branches of a heavy tree, yet allowing the advantage of a lustrous vision of a full, benign moon. Blair vaguely noted that Craig had prepared for just this inevitable end to their conversation. A blanket was spread upon the sand-encrusted grass and a duffel bag was crammed against the trunk of the tree.

“Confident bastard, aren’t you?” she whispered with a smile.

“I always set out to fully accomplish my missions, ma’am,” he replied.

Blair started to chuckle, but her laughter died in her throat, becoming an escaped moan of uncontrollable need as he laid her down and settled over her, his frame warm and slick, powerful and demanding as it form-fit within the invitation of soft, parted thighs.

“I love you, Blair,” he said tersely, his face dark and taut with his passion, his eyes the fire gold she knew so well.

She formed the reply, but neither heard it. It didn’t matter; they both knew the words that sang between them with unspoken harmony. They had both denied want for so long, and so effectively tormented each other with seductive, loving preliminaries, that the moment of fusing together was so sweetly good that it was a little bit like dying. Excitement seemed to explode like a blast furnace, shooting into the moonlit sky and becoming a burst of stars that shattered the heavens like white light. They moved together, loved together, flew together, both wanting the exotic, whirling, pounding rhythm. Thrusting deeper and deeper until it consumed, to go on forever; both wanting to reach the peak of ultimate, infinite ecstasy; both knowing that they were forever forged together in the wonder of physical and mental sharing that was uniquely theirs.

Blair thought she would pass out at the burst of ecstasy that was physically hers as Craig brought them to the explosive climax. Maybe she did pass out. It would be excusable. He had taught her that such heights existed. It was only natural that she wallow in the physical sensations as a pupil who had learned well the lesson and was then long denied the experience.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her whisper falling against Craig’s ear as he remained with his length against hers, wondering if he would understand what she meant.

He raised his head and smiled at her tenderly; the smile told her he understood completely. “Not at all, princess,” he teased lovingly. “We yes men love to be obliging.”

Blair sniffed and smiled. “Taunt heard and rejected.”

“Good, Blair,” Craig said seriously. “Because I don’t want you getting any ideas. I always did think I was better at giving orders than receiving them. Be prepared for what you’re really getting. If you think you do have a yes man on your hands, you’re going to be in trouble. I can be awfully opinionated and demanding.”

Blair chuckled and brushed the damp hair back from his forehead. “Tell me about it!” she moaned, her mocking tone less than respectful.

He raised a brow at her. “Don’t get cocky, there, princess!” he warned. “I still owe you one for that car episode. Damn, Blair, that was embarrassing! You’re lucky the guys in S.S. didn’t discover that I’d lost my car, and that I’d been hoodwinked by a woman.”

“Poor baby, they might have snickered louder. How did you explain it?”

“I didn’t,” Craig admitted dryly. “I said I’d loaned my car to a friend and then I gave the driver a good glare just to make sure he believed my story.”

“Oh,” Blair murmured, quite certain one of his glares would do the trick. A slight frown creased her brow. “Craig, I do want us both to be prepared. Are you absolutely sure about what you’re doing? If you give up your work because of me, I really am afraid that you’ll get bored and wind up resenting me, and then hating me, and then—”

“Blair!” He shushed her with a quick kiss and smiled ruefully as he adjusted his position and reached for the duffel bag. “If we’re going to keep talking, we might as well enjoy some champagne brought just for the occasion. It isn’t chilled just right,” he apologized, rummaging until he produced two plastic glasses, put them into her hands, and fiddled with the cork while she looked on with amused wonder. The cork popped with a sharp bang. “The vintage, however, is excellent!”

Blair laughed softly through her frown as Craig poured them each a bubbling portion. A powerful, dangerous man he might be, but he was right about himself. He was a bit of a romantic and she loved it. “To us,” she murmured, striking her glass to his, and taking a sip with her eyes glued to his over the rim of the glass. “But, Craig—”

“To answer your question,” he stated firmly, “trust me. You did so once under much more difficult circumstances if you’ll recall. I know what I want out of life, and it all involves you. I think I’ve spent half my life waiting for you to come along. But now I’ve put in my share of the rough side of the coin, and I’m glad I did. I’m ready to settle down. I began to feel the cravings for a home and stability when we met. Then I was afraid you’d never forgive me, except that I believed you loved me, and I trusted you enough to believe you’d understand all that I had done. I requested the transfer the moment I got back; it just took time. Actually”—he gave her a sheepish glance—“my new line of work is dependent on you. They were afraid I was a little too brash to be subtle, but Merrill knew I was after you, and, well, he had confidence, so he convinced the powers that be that you would keep me in line!”

Blair quirked a brow, unable to stifle laughter. “I’m going to keep you in line? Marvelous!” She sobered suddenly “Oh, Craig, I started regretting walking out on you almost as soon as I did it! I was half dead without you anyway! And then with Kate and Brad getting married. Did you know about that?”

Craig nodded. “I heard. Grapevine, you know. I’m happy for them. Two very nice people. And I’m grateful to them if they helped convince you that love could be stronger than fear.” He took a long sip of his champagne. “You know,” he mused, his eyes beginning to twinkle, “I knew I was coming for you no matter what you had said or done, but …” He smiled. “When Lorna told me that you had called Merrill, I was more determined than ever. I just wanted to wait until I had all my cards in my hand.”

Blair lowered her eyes and blushed. She should have known Lorna would mention her call to Craig. She didn’t resent the interference, no more than she had resented being assured that Craig did love her, even when she had been sure it could all come to nothing.

“I had a bit of a run-in with your father too,” Craig informed her dryly.

“Really?”

“He wanted to know my intentions.”

“Oh, no!” Blair chuckled.

“Your father is no laughing matter, young lady,” Craig admonished her. “And I’ll have you know this second abduction attempt was basically his idea, although he might not know it.”

“Dad told you to … to … to …”

“Seduce you? No. But he did imply that you were stubborn, and that I should ‘employ any means’ to get you legally wed. I don’t think he liked the idea of your walking in with nothing on but a trench coat.”

Blair smiled and once more lowered her eyes. “Dad is pretty great,” she murmured. “He never batted an eye.”

“I didn’t think he would. Well—” he refilled the champagne glasses. “How do you think you’ll like being an ambassador’s wife?”

“I’ll love it, Craig!” Blair vowed. He was never going to be happy without challenge, but she knew he was ready for his new challenge—a new source of power. The spoken word. “I’ll love anything that you share with me,” she promised. “I want to work with you.”

“Good. We won’t be able to fail. We’ll be indomitable.”

Blair shaded her eyes with a sweep of her lashes, hiding a secret grin. She was fully convinced he was indomitable all by himself. But she wasn’t about to tell him so. Why spoil him?

“Now,” he instructed, “hurry up and finish your champagne.”

“Why?” Blair queried. “What is our hurry?”

“Okay,” Craig said with an amiable grin, ignoring her question. “Don’t finish your champagne. I can douse you with it and judge its merits along with the delectable taste of your flesh.”

“Craig!” Blair tightly grasped her glass in protest, trying not to laugh. It was ridiculous. They were both sitting as naked as jaybirds in the middle of a jungle, sipping champagne, perfectly comfortable. “You didn’t answer my question!” she exclaimed.

“We need some sleep,” he told her blandly, “and I’m not quite ready to sleep.” A single brow jiggled insinuatively. “Though I do have some ideas about what to do in the meantime … Since we’re getting married in the morning I want to have you chastely returned to your tent before the padre shows up.”