'Is that so?' She held the hippo up again. 'Well, she does have rather fetching eyes.' Touched, she stroked the wide ceramic flank. 'She really is sweet, Parks. What made you think of it?'
'I thought she'd fit into your menagerie.' Seeing the puzzled look on her face, he gestured toward the shelf that held her monkey and bear. 'Then there's that pig on the front door, the little carving of a jack rabbit in your bedroom, the china owl on the windowsill in the kitchen.'
Comprehension came slowly. There were animals of varying types and materials scattered all through the house. She'd been collecting them for years without having the slightest idea what she was doing. But Parks had seen. Without an instant of warning to either of them, Brooke burst into tears.
Stunned, then alarmed, Parks reached for her, not having a clue what he would offer comfort for. Still, he'd seen enough tears from his sisters to know that logic often had nothing to do with tears. Ashamed, and unable to stem the flow, Brooke evaded his arms and rose. 'No, no, please. Give me a minute. I hate to do this.'
Even as he told himself to respect her wishes, Parks was going to her. Despite her resistance, he pulled her against him. 'I can't stand to see you do it,' he muttered; then, with a hint of exasperation, 'Why are you doing it?'
'You'll think I'm stupid. I hate being stupid.' 'Brooke.' Firmly, he cupped a hand under her chin and lifted it. Tears rolled freely down her cheeks. Knowing no other remedy, he kissed her-the soft lips, the wet cheeks, the damp eyelids. What began as a blind effort to comfort grew to smoldering passion. He could feel it build in him as his mouth sought hers again. His hands moved through her hair like those of a man making his tentative way through bolts of silk. She trembled against him-sobs or desire Parks was no longer sure as the kiss went deeper and deeper. She opened for him, more giving than he could remember. Her defenses were down, he reminded himself, fighting the impatience to fill his own needs quickly. His murmurs were quiet-pitched to soothe, his hands gently stroking to arouse.
Even recognizing her own vulnerability, Brooke didn't resist. She wanted to drift into that smoky, weightless world where every movement seemed to be in slow motion. She wanted to feel that fire and flash that left you breathless. She wanted the downsoft contentment that would lull you to sleep and linger in the morning.
As he lowered her to the floor, the scent of woodsmoke grew stronger. Brooke could hear the pop and hiss of the logs as flames ate at them. His long patient kisses held her suspended-half in the reality of the wool rug beneath her back, the red flickers of firelight and sun on her closed lids, half in the world of dreams lovers understand. While her mind floated, flirting with each separate sensation, he undressed her.
Parks took infinite care with the tiny round buttons of her blouse, as if he could wait until the seasons changed outside the tall windows. There was no time here, no winter, no spring, only one everlasting moment. Brooke slipped her hands under his shirt, fingertips gliding over the warmth and the strength. As patient as he, she drew the material up, over his shoulders, then discarded it.
Flesh against flesh, they lay before the fire while the sun streamed through the massive windows and pooled over them. Kisses grew longer, interrupted only for sighs, for murmurs. She tasted the mellow warmth of wine on his tongue and was intoxicated. Slowly, his mouth never leaving hers, Parks began to explore her body. Tiny, needlelike chills ran over her flesh, chasing the path of his hands. Feeling the light graze of his knuckles against the side of her breast, Brooke moaned, a liquid sound of pleasure.
He took his tongue deeper into her mouth, gently exploiting this small weakness until the drug took full effect. She was limp, languid, utterly his. Then and only then did he give his lips the freedom to taste her skin again. It was as pungent as her scent, and somehow more erotic.
With moist, open-mouthed kisses he savored her, entranced her. Then the quick pressure of his teeth on some sensitive spot would bring her sharply aware, gasping with the change. His lips would soothe again, lulling her back into pliancy. Again and again he yanked her toward the flame, then guided her back to the clouds, until Brooke was no longer certain which she most desired.
She felt him draw her slacks down over her hips while he pressed those soul-wrenching kisses along her stomach. A mindless excitement filled her, rendering her helpless to do any more than move as he requested. His breath was warm on her intimate flesh so that the long muscles in her thighs trembled then went lax.
Still his mouth moved slowly. The hands that had already discovered every secret point of pleasure continued to caress and linger, keeping her trapped beneath a thin sheet of silken passion. The power she had experienced before moved through her, but her mind was too dazed to recognize it. She felt herself balanced on a slender edge-desire's tightrope-and wanted to continue to walk it as much as she longed to fall headlong into the wild, churning sea below. Then he was above her again, his eyes looking down into hers for a long, long, moment before his lips descended. He was waiting, and she understood. Their mouths still clinging, Brooke guided him inside her. Her moan melted into his mouth, hot and passionate. Though she was clinging to him now with a sudden, fierce strength, Parks moved slowly. Brooke felt herself fill, fill to the desperate point of explosion.
Then the shudders, wracking, convulsive, until she seemed to slide back down some smooth cool path to the torrent again. Like a swimmer trapped in rushing white water, she was swept from peak to peak while he moved with tortuous slowness. She could feel the tight, tense control in him, hear it in the quick labored breaths that merged with hers as he prolonged the pleasure, and the agony. Then he murmured something – a prayer, a plea, an oath-and took them both tumbling off the tightrope.
He must have slept. Parks thought he had closed his eyes for only an instant, but when he opened them again, the slant of the sun was different. Brooke was beside him, her hair wrapping them to each other. Her eyes were wide and aware as she stared into his. She'd been watching him for nearly an hour. Parks smiled and pressed his mouth to her shoulder.
'Sorry. Did I fall asleep?'
'For a little while.' She hid her face against his neck a moment. It was as though he had stripped off her flesh, exposing all her thoughts. She wasn't quite certain what she should do about it. 'You must have been exhausted.'
'Not anymore,' he said truthfully. He felt alert, pumped with energy and…clean. The last made him give a quick shake of his head. He stroked a hand down her arm. 'There was something I wanted to ask you before I got… distracted.' Propping himself on his elbow, Parks looked down at her. ''Why were you crying?'
Brooke moved her shoulders in a shrug and started to shift away. With a firm hand, Parks stopped her. He could feel the effort she was making to draw back from him, but he realized he could no longer permit it. Whether she knew it or not, she had given herself to him completely. He was going to hold her to it. 'Brooke, don't try to block me out,' he said quietly. 'It won't work anymore.'
She started to protest, but the quiet, steady look in his eyes told her he spoke nothing less than the truth. That alone should have been a warning of where her heart was taking her. 'It was a sweet thing to do,' she said at length. 'I'm not used to sweetness.'
Parks lifted a brow. 'That's part of it, perhaps. What's the rest?'
With a sigh, Brooke sat up. This time he let her.
'I hadn't realized I'd been collecting.' With both hands, she pushed her hair back, then wrapped her arms around her knees. 'I overreacted when you pointed it out. I always wanted a dog, a cat, a bird, anything when I was growing up. It wasn't feasible the way I shifted around.' She moved her shoulders again, causing her tumbled hair to shiver over her naked back. ''It was kind of shattering to realize I was still compensating.'
Parks felt a chord of sympathy and suppressed it. There was no quicker way to alienate her. 'You've got your own home, your own life now. You could have anything you wanted.' Reaching around her, he poured more wine for both of them. 'You don't have to compensate.' He sipped, studying her profile. 'No,' she agreed in a murmur. 'No, I don't.'
'What kind of dog do you want?'
Brooke twirled the glass in her hand, then suddenly laughed. 'Something homely,' she said, turning to grin at him. 'Something down-to-the-ground homely.' She reached out, laying a hand on his cheek. 'I didn't even thank you.'
Parks considered, nodding solemnly as he took the glass from her hand. 'No, you didn't.' In a quick move, he had her rolling on top of him. 'Why don't you thank me now?'
