Honor Bound

Chapter 11

 

 

 

She had learned where the worst chuckholes were and how to avoid them. Recently Johnny and Linda Deerinwater had gone to Scottsdale and offered to drive her car back when they returned. She and Lucas's pickup had never had a meeting of the minds, so driving her car again was a pleasure.

 

Today she barely noticed the pitching and rolling as she drove her car up the uneven road toward home. She was happy on several accounts, and when Lucas came riding up on a roan gelding to meet her and Tony, that was an extra bonus. She braked the car and lifted Tony out of his safety seat, just as Lucas swung his long leg over the saddle and dismounted.

 

"You were gone longer than I expected," he said.

 

Could that mean he was worried about her, she wondered. Or was he concerned only for Tony? She wanted to think she was included. "Gene's clinic was overflowing. There's a virus going around. He and Alice had their hands full."

 

"How are they?"

 

She grinned, her blue eyes glinting mischievously. "Positively glowing. I've always thought your mother was beautiful, but wait until you see her now. She's radiant. And Gene wears a perpetually sappy grin."

 

Lucas smiled and chucked Tony under the chin. He was holding the reins of his horse in his free hand. "What did Gene say about Tony?"

 

"He has a slight cold. Actually Gene called it an upper respiratory something-or-other. He gave him a liquid decongestant that should take care of it in a few days."

 

"Is that why he's been crying so much?"

 

"Not solely. There's something else."

 

"What?" he asked, his brow beetling.

 

"Tony is hungry."

 

"Hungry?"

 

"Yes," Aislinn said, blushing under the tan she had acquired. "He's not getting enough milk. Gene suggested that I switch him to formula and start him on fruit and cereal."

 

Lucas shifted from one booted foot to another. "So you won't be, uh, breast-feeding him anymore?" Aislinn kept her eyes trained on the buttons of his shirt as she shook her head. "How do you feel about that?" he asked.

 

"I'll miss it. But of course I want to do what's best for Tony."

 

"Of course."

 

"I stopped at the grocery store and bought bottles and cans of formula and baby food."

 

"One little baby can eat all that?" he asked incredulously.

 

She followed the direction of his gaze into the back seat of her car and laughed when she noticed the cartons stashed there. "Only part of it. Most of those boxes contain the chemicals I had ordered. They were waiting for me at the post office."

 

"Will your darkroom be operable now?"

 

"Yes. All I needed were the chemicals." She had taken his silence on the subject of the darkroom as consent and had proceeded to convert the kitchen area of the derelict trailer.

 

Much to her surprise she had come out of the house one morning to find Lucas painting the trailer. Before she even posed the question, he said querulously, "This paint was left over from the house. No sense in letting it go to waste." Besides giving it the paint job, he had done some repairs that made the portable building more habitable.

 

"I won't be able to process color film," she told him now, "but I can do black and white. I thought I'd start with the snapshots I took at the wedding reception. If they're good, I'll give enlarged prints to Gene and Alice. I invited them to come to dinner soon."

 

"Good."

 

"And I took some pictures in town today. You know that housing area where the conditions are so bad?"

 

He nodded grimly. "All too well."

 

"There were some little girls playing beneath a clothesline. I think I got some good stuff, but it will take me a while to get back into practice."

 

"What did you do with Tony?"

 

"He was on my back in the sling carrier." She smiled up at her husband. "Just like a good little papoose."

 

His mouth twitched with the need to smile. He held it back as long as he could, but it overpowered his stubbornness and the remote face broke into a wide grin that dazzled his wife. His teeth were straight and white, a brilliant contrast to his dark face.

 

"I don't want the grandson of a chief to turn into a mama's boy. Give him to me."

 

He lifted the baby out of Aislinn's arms and turned toward the horse, which was still standing by docilely. "Lucas, what are you doing? Lucas, you're not—"

 

"It's past time that Anthony Joseph Greywolf had a horseback-riding lesson."

 

"Don't you dare!" Aislinn cried.

 

Heedless of her protests, Lucas cradled the child in his right arm. Using his left hand to grasp the pommel, he pulled himself into the saddle. With one smooth motion he and Tony were sitting on the horse. Tony was waving his hands happily.

 

"Lucas, give me that baby before you break both your necks," Aislinn said sternly. Unconsciously, she laid both hands on Lucas's hard thigh to forestall him.

 

He grinned down at her teasingly. "Shall we race to the house?"

 

"Lucas!"

 

He wheeled the gelding around and nudged it with his knees. The horse cantered off. Aislinn propped her hands on her hips and glared after him with exasperation. Most of it was faked. Actually her heart had never been so full of love.

 

* * *

 

For several days after she had weaned Tony, she was uncomfortable and he was cranky. But he learned to like the pre-mixed formula. He was a creative eater, splattering her, Lucas, and anything within yards of him with mushy cereal and strained fruit, but he gobbled up the food greedily and soon Aislinn could tell he was gaining weight.

 

Lucas received another letter from Warden Dixon. He had been in consultation with a judge and was making progress toward having Lucas vindicated. Aislinn took heart; Lucas kept his feelings on the subject to himself.

 

Due to his hard work, the ranch was prospering. From the hills surrounding the ranch, he had rounded up an impressive herd of horses that wore the Greywolf brand, but that had strayed since old Joseph's death. Several of the mares were pregnant. Those that weren't were artificially inseminated, a practice his grandfather had resisted.

 

The Greywolfs were fortunate to have a stream that flowed out of the mountains across one corner of their land. Water was the most valued commodity. Joseph had never sold water rights as a matter of principle, but Lucas was of the mind that what was good for one was good for all. There were several small ranchers, Indian and Anglo alike, who were now paying for the use of Greywolf water.

 

Nor did Lucas allow himself to become attached to the horses to the point of not being able to sell them, as his grandfather had. Customers who bought Greywolf horses got their money's worth. Lucas was a fair but shrewd dealer.

 

Aislinn spent a few hours every day in the trailer in her darkroom. She always took Tony with her, placing him in a playpen she had bought in a secondhand store. After she painted the slats and furnished it with a new pad, it looked as good as new.

 

One afternoon she was working in the darkroom, experimenting with different techniques, when she heard the distant rumble of thunder. At first she paid no attention to it. Her ears were trained to pick up any sound Tony made, but to tune out other distractions.

 

The thunder became louder, and she realized that a storm was fast approaching. Wending her way through the dark curtains surrounding the nucleus of her darkroom, she stepped into what had previously been the living area of the trailer.

 

Tony lay asleep in the playpen. Aislinn was alarmed by how late it had gotten, but when she consulted her watch, she saw that it was only the middle of the afternoon, not nearly as late as the darkness indicated.

 

She went to the door of the trailer and looked out the small diamond-shaped window. Dark clouds were brewing over the mountains. Her first thought was for Lucas. He had left on horseback early that morning, saying he was going to ride up into the higher elevations to see if he could locate any more strays. Not liking the looks of the weather, she hoped he would return soon.

 

The wind was picking up. Dust was swirling in the wide yard between the trailer and the house. She decided to wait for Lucas before she tried carrying Tony and all his paraphernalia back to the house. Besides, the storm would probably blow over in a few minutes.

 

After checking on the baby again, she went back into the darkroom and became engrossed in her work. It took a jolt, literally, to rouse her. The trailer swayed as a gust of wind socked it like a mighty fist. Aislinn heard Tony whimper. Hurriedly, she left the darkroom. The trailer was lit by a ghostly, greenish light.

 

Tony began to cry. Aislinn rushed toward the door and opened it. The wind tore it from her hand, and it went crashing against the exterior wall of the trailer. Raindrops pricked her exposed skin like needles as she stepped out onto the concrete steps and reached for the door. Hailstones pelleted her. Within seconds the ground was white, covered with them.

 

"Oh, God," she cried, straining with all her might to pull the door closed against the wind. Inky black clouds boiled overhead. The sky was completely blocked out by the low clouds, which looked as opaque as a velvet curtain. Jagged forks of lightning struck the ground, dancing and popping, before disappearing again into the clouds. Thunder roared so loudly that she could hardly hear Tony's piteous cries over the racket.

 

She finally got the door closed and latched, though it had required all her strength. Crouched over with fatigue, she practically crawled to the playpen and lifted Tony out. She didn't realize her clothes were wet until she held him against her. Her hair was plastered to her skull and dripping onto the child.

 

"Shh, shh, Tony, everything will be all right," she crooned, wishing she believed it herself.

 

Where is Lucas?

 

She squeezed her eyes shut as she envisioned him wandering lost in the storm, with the wind and rain and hail beating against him unmercifully.

 

Each time a fresh gust of wind buffeted the trailer, she feared it would overturn and she and Tony would be crushed. She could hear debris being hurled against the exterior and expected something to come crashing through one of the windows at any moment.

 

Tony was walling, and she clutched him tightly against her breasts. That did nothing to comfort him because he could sense his mother's fear. Aislinn paced the length of the room, cringing each time she heard the lightning crack, knowing that it could very well strike the trailer.

 

"Lucas, Lucas," she chanted. Had his horse been spooked and thrown him? Was he lying unconscious somewhere? Had he fallen into a crevice and broken his leg?

 

The grisly possibilities were endless, yet she seemed to think of every conceivable one. She pressed her cheek to the top of Tony's head and bathed it with her tears.

 

She felt small and insignificant. God's wrath was awesome, and He was showing it off. What did He care if one woman and her child perished in a storm of His making?

 

The waiting was the worst part. But what else could she do? Getting across the clearing to the house would be hazardous even if she were alone. Carrying Tony and protecting him in her arms would make the trip impossible. The ground was already a sea of mud, unable to absorb the pelting rain quickly enough. Her vision would be hampered by the consuming darkness between blinding flashes of lightning. She could easily lose her way.

 

Why hadn't she left the trailer at the first signs of the impending storm? She would be frightened inside the house, but it would certainly provide more protection than the trailer.

 

Self-recriminations were useless now. She had made an unwise decision, and she would have to pay for it, possibly with her own life and that of her child.

 

Lucas. Lucas. Lucas.

 

She sat down in a rickety chair that had been left behind when Alice and Lucas moved from the trailer. Holding Tony against her, she rocked him, mindlessly humming, waiting for Fate to do with them what it would.

 

When she first heard the pounding noise, she thought it was another piece of debris banging against the trailer. But when she heard her name being shouted in accompaniment to the noise, she uttered a glad cry and went stumbling across the trailer.

 

"Lucas!"

 

"Open the door!" he shouted.

 

Holding Tony in one arm, she clumsily unlocked the door with her other hand. When the door opened, Lucas almost fell inside, propelled by the wind. Aislinn collapsed against him, sobbing uncontrollably. Only his surefootedness kept the three of them from toppling to the floor.

 

She repeated his name as she clung to him. His shirt was soddenly molded to his body. His boots were caked with mud. His hat, secured to his head by a leather cord beneath his chin, dripped rainwater. He had never looked better to her.

 

They hugged each other tightly for a long moment, unmindful of the rain that fell in sheets through the open door. Between them, Tony squirmed and squalled. Lucas pressed Aislinn's face into his neck and rubbed his hands up and down her back until her wracking sobs subsided.

 

"Are you hurt anywhere?" he asked at last.

 

"No. I'm f…fine. Just scared."

 

"And Tony?"

 

"He's okay. He's frightened because he could tell I was." She bit her lower lip hard to keep it from trembling. "I thought something had happened to you."

 

"Something did. I got caught in the storm," he said wryly. "I could see it coming, but I couldn't get back in time. The horse threw a shoe and I had to walk him back. He was reluctant and scared."

 

She touched his face. It was wet. She didn't notice. "I thought you were lost. Or lying hurt somewhere. I didn't know what would happen to us without you."

 

"Well, it scared hell out of me when I got to the house and you and Tony weren't there." He pushed a strand of her wet hair away from her mouth and touched her lips. "But we're all safe. Now our only problem is getting across the clearing to the house. I don't trust this trailer to stay in one piece much longer. We'll be safer outside than we are in here. Can you make it?"

 

She nodded without even having to consider the danger. Lucas was there. She felt safe again.

 

"Do you have something to wrap Tony in?" he asked. She had stockpiled some extra baby blankets in the trailer. While Lucas stared out the door, planning the path of least resistance, she wrapped Tony in several of them until he looked hike a living mummy. She ignored his crying, knowing that once he was fed and dry and calm, he would be all right.

 

Lucas took an extra blanket, draped it over Aislinn's head and tied it beneath her chin. "That won't give you much protection, but it's better than nothing. Now," he said, catching her shoulders in his hands and looking directly into her eyes, "your only job is to hang on to Tony. I'll do the rest." She nodded. "Okay, let's go."

 

She never remembered the details of that journey, which usually took less than sixty seconds. In her mind, it would forever be a blur of wind and rain and lightning and fear. No sooner had they left the steps of the trailer than her shoes got stuck in the mud. When she fished for them with her toes, Lucas shouted above the storm, "Leave them," and she went the remainder of the way barefoot. She slipped and slid in the oozing mud, but Lucas's strong arms kept her from falling. She held on to Tony so tightly that she was afraid she would break his ribs. She kept her head bowed and, for the most part, her eyes closed.

 

At last her shin rapped against something and she realized it was the porch of the house. With Lucas's assistance, she staggered up the steps and beneath the shelter of the overhang. He opened the front door and pushed her inside. He propped her against the wall and, while she regained her breath, pulled off his hat and boots and threw them out onto the porch.

 

He untied the blanket he had wrapped around her head and sent it the way of the boots and hat. "Don't move," he said sternly. "I'll get a blanket." Barefoot, he headed toward the bedrooms, his clothes dripping water onto the tile floors. While he was gone, Aislinn unwound the blankets covering Tony.

 

"My brave boy," she said, lifting him for her to kiss. "You and Daddy are so brave,"

 

Lucas came back and threw a blanket around her shoulders, bundling her into it. "My teeth are chattering," she said needlessly.

 

"I noticed. Hurry, let's get Tony dried off. Then we'll work on you." Together they went into the nursery. The electricity wasn't working, but Lucas carried in two candles from their bedroom, which until now had served only as decoration. By candlelight, Aislinn swiftly undressed the baby and dried him off. While she was doing that, Lucas went to fetch a bottle from the kitchen. He waited for it to warm and came back with it just as Aislinn was snapping Tony into his sleeper.

 

"Let me feed him while you get into a tub of hot water. I've already turned the taps on. Take one of the candles." To keep the dry baby from getting wet and chilled again, Lucas was peeling off his clothes as he talked. When he was stripped to the skin, he took the towel Aislinn had used on Tony and whisked it over himself. Then he lifted Tony from the crib and carried him to the rocking chair.

 

Any other time, the sight of the huge, naked Indian man, sitting in the rocking chair with the gingham cushion, feeding a baby a bottle, would have been a hilarious sight. But Aislinn was still too benumbed by fright to notice the hilarity of it.

 

"Don't forget his medicine," she said, nodding toward the prescription Gene had ordered for the baby's congestion.

 

"I won't."

 

Knowing that Tony was in capable hands, she left the nursery to take her bath. It was almost a half-hour later when she came out of the bathroom carrying the candle. She had immersed herself in the tub until the hot water covered her shoulders. Its warmth had seeped into her comfortingly, relieving her chill and dulling the serrated edges of her nerves. Before she got out, she washed her hair. Brushing it back and leaving it to dry naturally, she wrapped herself in a long terry-cloth robe.

 

She checked the nursery first and found Tony sleeping soundly in his crib. She laid her hand on his head, tears forming in her eyes. He was so very precious to her. She couldn't imagine life without him now. What an empty, barren existence hers had been before she had been blessed with him.

 

She asked God to forgive her for her momentary lack of faith when she had been in the trailer. He had favored her by giving her Tony. He had brought them through a terrible ordeal safely. She would never doubt His grace and goodness again.

 

She left the sleeping child and tiptoed through the darkened rooms, which were illuminated only by occasional flashes of blue-white lightning and the faint, wavering glow of the candle she carried.

 

Lucas was in the kitchen, standing at the stove, stirring something in a saucepan. When she entered, he turned. She hadn't made a sound, and yet he had known she was there. "I knew this old gas stove was good for something. Just the other day I was wishing I could buy you a better one to cook on."

 

"I like that one." He had pulled on a pair of dry jeans. He was still bare-chested and barefoot. His hair was beginning to dry. She hoped he would never want to cut it short. She loved the way it shimmered each time he moved his head. "What are you cooking?"

 

"Cocoa. Sit down."

 

She set her candle on the table and pulled out a chair. "I didn't know you could cook."

 

He poured the steaming drink into a waiting mug and turned off the burner. "Better taste it before you make any snap judgments," he said, handing her the mug.

 

She sipped it cautiously because it was extremely hot. It was rich and sweet and delicious. It warmly tricked its way into her stomach and spread a welcome heat all through her. "It's delicious, Lucas. Thank you."

 

"Would you like something to eat?"

 

"No." Then she lifted her head quickly and looked up at him. "Would you? I'll fix—" She made a movement to get out of her chair, but he laid his hands on her shoulders.

 

"No. I'm not hungry. Drink your chocolate."

 

He removed his hands and soundlessly crossed the floor toward the window. "The storm is moving away." Rain was still falling, but the wind had died down considerably. The thunder sounded like low drumrolls coming from far away and the lightning was less sinister.

 

Aislinn raised the mug of chocolate to her lips and swallowed several sips. She tried to drink all of it, but the knot in her throat kept getting in the way. She couldn't take her eyes off Lucas. His profile was sharply outlined against the gray window. She thought he was a beautiful man.

 

The trauma of the day caught up with her. Emotions assailed her. She began to tremble, so drastically that the chocolate sloshed out of the mug onto her hand, burning it. She set the mug on the table. She was unable to stifle the whimper that escaped her trembling lips.

 

"Aislinn?"

 

She didn't answer because she knew her voice would only be a croak if she tried to speak. Cramming her fingers hard against her lips, she tried to contain the emotion that seemed determined to erupt.

 

"Aislinn?" Lucas repeated.

 

The concern in his voice was her undoing. Tears burst through the dam of her pride and false courage. Her shoulders shook. She buried her face in her hands.

 

"What's the matter? Is something wrong? Are you hurt?" Lucas knelt in front of her chair. He ran his hands up and down her arms, across her quaking shoulders, as though searching for injuries.

 

She lowered her hands from her face, but tears continued to stream down her cheeks. "No, no. I'm not hurt. I … I don't know why I'm doing this," she stammered. "Delayed reaction I guess. I was so scared." She dissolved into another bout of tears.

 

He reached up, touched her hair. "Don't," he whispered. "Don't. It's all over."

 

One side of his face was obscured by darkness, but the candle lit the other side. Aislinn extended both hands toward him. Reaching. Beseeching. She touched his face with feather-light fingertips. "I was afraid I'd never see you again. I didn't know how I would survive if anything happened to you."

 

"Aislinn—"

 

"More than fear for my safety, or even Tony's, I was frightened for yours." She ran her hands over his head and down his bare biceps before touching his face again.

 

"I was safe."

 

"But I didn't know that," she said with desperation.

 

He pressed three of his fingers against her lips to still their trembling. "I was frantic to get back to you, too."

 

"You were?"

 

"I was worried." His fingers moved over the delicate features of her face, exploring it even as she was exploring his.

 

"Lucas?"

 

"What?"

 

He leaned forward and kissed her, briefly, softly. She made a tremulous, catchy sound in her throat and rested her hands on his shoulders. Reflexively her fingers clenched and unclenched. "I don't ever want to be alone and without you again."

 

"No."

 

"Don't ever leave me."

 

"I won't."

 

"I depend on you to protect Tony and me."

 

"I always will."

 

"Am I a fool? A coward?"

 

"You're very brave. I'm proud of you."

 

"You are?"

 

"Very."

 

"I love you, Lucas. I love you."

 

The declaration acted as a lever on a floodgate. Words came pouring out of her mouth, professions of love that had been fermenting inside her for weeks. Now they came frothing out of her like the bubbles in a bottle of uncorked champagne, undisciplined and uncontainable and beyond capture or control. And in between the rushing words, their lips met in brief little exchanges of breath.

 

But soon that wasn't nearly enough. His arms swept around her swiftly. He angled his head to one side, claiming her mouth in a searing kiss. His lips were hungry; hers were the feast. With a low groan, he pressed his tongue inside her mouth. He rubbed it against hers. The kiss was purely carnal.

 

His hands slid from her back to her front. He untied the belt of her robe and thrust his hands inside. She was warm and soft and womanly. Her breasts filled his hands and he massaged them.

 

He trailed kisses down her neck. She watched with wonder and love as he touched the tip of one breast with his tongue, flicking it softly. A small cry of joy escaped her. His mouth gave her even more reason to rejoice. Moving from side to side, it performed acts of love on her flesh.

 

From over his shoulders, Aislinn could see the smooth expanse of his back. The muscles beneath the sleek skin rippled with each movement he made. She smoothed her hands over his naked skin as though spreading on lotion.

 

Still kneeling in front of her, his hair brushed her belly. He touched it with his mouth. He kissed her navel. When he pressed his face into her lap, she threw her head back in a spasm of delight. She sobbed his name as he drew her hips forward.

 

Slowly, he parted her thighs and kissed her.

 

Aislinn was drawn into a maelstrom of passion. It welled up over her and she seemed to drown in it. She was barely conscious when he lifted her in his arms and carried her through the house.

 

Only when he gently deposited her on the bed did she become aware of her surroundings again. She heard the whispering sound of cloth as he unfastened his jeans. Her eyes opened in time to see him stepping out of them. As though for her benefit, lightning lit up the sky and provided her with enough light to see him, naked and splendid.

 

He didn't lie down as she expected, but knelt between her thighs. He lowered his head. "Lucas," she said in feeble protest.

 

"I owe you this, Aislinn. The first time, that morning so long ago, was for me. This is for you."

 

His mouth brought her to a crescendo of feeling, unlike anything she had ever experienced. Her head thrashed on the pillow as she tried unsuccessfully to draw breath, but wave after wave of ecstasy prevented that. He was relentless in his determination to give her ultimate satisfaction, but he withheld the finale until she thought she would die of pleasure almost unendurable.

 

When at last he released her from that glorious prison of rapture, her body was dewy with perspiration and her lips were bruised by her own teeth.

 

His lips were incredibly considerate of that as he brushed kisses over hers. He licked them gently, then bathed her entire face with his tongue. Once again, sensations began to ribbon their way through her body. Lucas lowered himself over her carefully.

 

His sex was hot and hard. She felt it against the inside of her thigh. She wanted him and conveyed that want by raising her hips and moving them against him.

 

"I won't hurt you?" he asked gruffly.

 

"No."

 

He was as hard as steel, but velvety smooth. His penetration was so complete that she winced. "I am hurting you," he said, alarmed. But when he tried to withdraw, she closed her thighs against his.

 

"I want to have all of you."

 

Burying his face in the curve of her shoulder, he groaned with immense pleasure, both at her words and at the way her body smoothly, tightly, and creamily gloved his. He wanted it to last forever, and he sustained it for as long as he could. But his body was starved and wouldn't be delayed indefinitely. Once he began to move, the climax came quickly. It rushed upon them, as tempestuous as the storm had been.

 

When it was over, he rested atop her until their breathing subsided, then he rolled them to their sides, so they still faced each other.

 

Every time the lightning flickered through the windows, he enjoyed the reflection of her back and derriere in the mirror across the room. It made a provocative picture, her hair in wanton disarray, her skin so pale compared to his hands that moved over the curves of her body.

 

He touched her with astonishing familiarity, yet she murmured not a single word of protest. He was bold. He satisfied every curiosity he had entertained. The liberties she afforded him made him breathless and lightheaded. She didn't shrink from even the most intimate caresses, indeed she purred beneath his touch.

 

He remembered praying for death that first time, because he had thought then that nothing else in his life would ever be so good as being inside Aislinn. He felt equally good now, but selfishly he didn't want to die.

 

What a fool he had been to deny himself the privilege of making love with her. She had been healed from childbirth for weeks. Gene had even surreptitiously given him the go-ahead.

 

Yet he had stubbornly denied his desire for her, because he was terrified of the emotions that accompanied it. He didn't just want the woman's body; he wanted the woman. It was the first time in his life that he had felt a real need for another human being.

 

Now, mellow and languid in the sweet aftermath, he eased away from her, raised her chin with his finger and kissed her mouth. He thought it would be a benediction, a good-night, but her tongue initiated a deeper kiss and played with his lower lip.

 

"The day of your mother's wedding…" she whispered against his lips.

 

"Yes?"

 

"I knew you were outside when I undressed by the window." He leaned his head back and looked down at her. "I wanted you to see me," she confessed. "I wanted to seduce you."

 

His face remained remote, but after a lengthy silence, during which she was held captive by his compelling eyes, he said, "I was seduced."

 

Rolling quickly to his back, he pulled her atop him and rasped, "Ride me."

 

Taking him inside her, she fulfilled his fantasy. Eagerly, she carried him beyond his most vivid imaginings. It was a supreme effort, but Lucas kept his eyes open to enjoy the blond beauty of her skin and hair. He caressed her breasts, giving special care to their responsive peaks. And when she arched her back with the pleasure of that caress, he stroked her in places that caused her thighs to quiver against his.

 

At last, with a shudder, she collapsed on his chest. He wrapped himself around her and gave her all of himself that was in his power to give. Her body celebrated his gift.

 

Then, weak and spent, they lay there, his body nestled in hers, for a long time. And finally, when he moved her to his side and tucked her back against his chest, they fell into a sleep more peaceful than either had ever known.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

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