He looked relieved. “That sounds nice. To tell you the truth I was a little nervous about trying to make waffles on my own. Sometimes my first attempts at new recipes don’t turn out so well.”
Chris turned before he could see the look of incredulity on her face. Sometimes his first attempts didn’t turn out so well-what an understatement!
She stripped and jumped into the steaming shower. Five minutes later she was tripping down the stairs in a pair of snug jeans and a white T-shirt that sported a glittery picture of a daisy. Her still-damp hair curled in little ringlets around her face. A slash of shadow and clear lip gloss were her only concessions to makeup. By the time she cleared the last step her heart was skipping beats over the knowledge that she’d purposely neglected to wear a bra under the flimsy T-shirt. She was asking for trouble and enjoying every minute of it.
Ken lounged against a kitchen counter and watched her approach. A small tight smile quirked at his mouth, and his eyes darkened under heavy black lashes. “Hmmmm,” was his only comment, uttered in a low velvet growl.
Chris experienced a moment of searing panic. She had forgotten how fast he could change from adorable puppy to awesome predator. She spread her arms wide and resumed the role of forced gaiety to hide her confusion. “Well, here I am. Ready to make you a great breakfast. What would you like to eat?”
His eyes burned a path from her mouth to her breasts. “What’s on the menu?”
“Waffles?” she asked hopefully, swallowing hard.
“Is that the best you can do?”
“Ah-h-h-h,” she quavered. “Oh, shoot.” Chris stomped across the kitchen, hands on hips, eyes narrowed. “What is it about you that scares the heck out of me? I walked down those stairs filled with confidence and feeling seductive…and all you have to do is look at me and drop your voice an octave and I’m…I’m…”
“Mush?”
“Mush.”
Ken tipped his head back and laughed softly. “I don’t think there’s another woman alive that would come right out and say something like that.” He reached out and pulled her into the circle of his arms. He watched her for a few seconds before drawing her closer. “I don’t want you to be afraid of what you feel for me. We have a special attraction for each other. It should be enjoyed and cherished.” He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her tenderly. “If we take care of this attraction it will grow even stronger, and it will last a long, long time. It’s not just hormones, Chris. It’s a union of minds and hearts and secret dreams.” His cast rested against her hipbone. His right hand flattened over her back, pushing her against him, crushing her breasts into his hard, muscled chest. “Lean on me, Chris,” he coaxed. “Your daisy won’t mind.”
Chris felt the smile creep through her. It tickled her fingertips and surged through her heart. She did as he asked and leaned into him, her thighs sliding suggestively between his, her stomach flat against the snap of his jeans.
He shifted his weight to fit her even more snugly to him and whispered her name in a voice thickened by emotion. His hand impatiently roamed across her back in sensual exploration. It slid to her waist with increasing pressure.
“I want to love you.” His voice was barely audible.
Chris wrapped her arms around him. She kissed the spot on his neck where a few black hairs curled from the open V of his blue buttoned-down shirt. Her panic was gone. It was replaced with a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. When he held her like this everything was right in the world. They belonged together, and she realized that this moment of affirmation had been as inevitable as April rain. “I want to love you, too,” she whispered as she kissed the pulse point just below his jaw, touching it first with her lips and then with the tip of her tongue.
A gasp escaped from deep in Ken’s throat at the erotic gesture. In an instant his mouth was on hers. The tentative gentleness of his previous kisses was gone, yielding to the overpowering passion that tore through both of them. Chris gave herself up to the black all-encompassing desire that she had hoped to avoid.
He was right. It was special, and it was to be enjoyed and nurtured. She took his hand and led him upstairs to her bedroom, relishing her new-found bravery.
His shirt had been discarded somewhere between kitchen and bedroom, and the rest of his clothes hit the floor just before he joined her on the bed. She wanted to memorize every contour of his body. She watched his eyes blacken as she ran her palm along his skin.
And then they were joined together and she closed her eyes, reveling in the sweetness of their union.
Afterward, Chris listened in awe to the beating of his heart. He rolled to his side and pulled her close, cradling her in the crook of his shoulder, positioning her so that he could feel the weight of her body against him. Chris pressed her face into his chest to hide the tears that were gathering in her eyes. She was overwhelmed with emotion, with love that was so strong it squeezed the air from her lungs.
When his breathing had slowed to normal he kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry, Chris.”
She tipped her head toward his face. “What are you sorry for?”
“I wanted this to be perfect. I wanted to go slow the first time, but I think I lost control.” He pulled back a bit to look at her. “I guess I make love like I cook. The first time I do it I never get it quite right.”
“You mean it gets better than that?”
He grinned devilishly and shifted his weight. “Lady, you ain’t seen nothing, yet!”
Chapter 7
Chris watched the patterns of moonlight on her bedroom wall and listened to the even breathing of the man next to her. It was odd to suddenly share her bed like this. There had been so few nights of her life spent in the company of a lover. She tried to dredge up memories of nights spent with Steven, but found there were none. Her whole being was filled with the present…with Ken. No more ghosts, she thought happily. And no more panicky fears of rejection and betrayal. She loved him, and she didn’t want to hold anything back from him. All the walls she had so carefully and painfully built would have to be destroyed. Her heart told her she could trust him, and she believed her heart. It was a lovely luxury. Vulnerability is vastly underestimated, she thought dreamily. You don’t fully appreciate it until you’ve denied it to yourself for a long time.
She turned from the moonlight shadows to study his sleeping silhouette. Even in sleep, there was a strength to his face and a protective tension in his body that made her feel safe and cosseted. It would be nice to be married to this man, she decided. He made her bed comfy. And he was nice to love. Gentle and fierce and honest. She felt overwhelmed at the memory of their lovemaking. She had never shared herself so fully with a man. She pressed her cheek against his bare shoulder and enjoyed the faint aroma of man’s cologne and some other scent that was a special mingling of male and female.
Ken awakened at her touch and regarded her drowsily, his hand possessively tracing a line along her side to her hipbone. “Hmmm,” he hummed, gravel-voiced, in her ear, “couldn’t sleep?”
“No,” she whispered. “I’m not used to sharing my bed.”
He smiled at that. “I’m not either.” He kissed her tenderly on her cheek and the tip of her nose. “I’ve been so busy for so many years…”
Chris nestled closer. She liked when he talked into her hair and his voice grew deep and rumbly.
But he pushed her firmly away, propping himself up on one elbow to see her better. He studied her seriously. “Chris, could we talk a little? Are you awake?”
Chris looked at him curiously. She touched her hand to his bare chest and felt him shudder slightly beneath her palm.
He stroked her hair back from her face. “It was perfect this morning…every time. And this afternoon. And this evening.” His voice became husky. “I have such strong feelings for you. That first time we made love it scared the hell out of me.”
“Why was it scary?”
“I suppose because it was so intense. I’ve never lost myself in a woman before. Sex has always been pretty much a physical activity for me. Now I suddenly find myself with all these new emotions. When we’re done making love, and I hold you in my arms and listen to the beating of your heart…the love I feel for you is so violent. It’s a kind of bittersweet pain.”
Chris felt as if her heart would burst with happiness. No one had ever said anything like that to her before, and
