Give Me Tonight(81)

Heedless of her clutch on his hair, he slammed his mouth on hers, and this time Addie couldn't fight off the heat that raced through her body. She released her grip on his hair, her hands fluttering down to his shoulders. It was impossible to ignore the warmth of his steel-muscled body, the unsteady pounding of his heart. Her arms slid around his neck, and her br**sts thrust against his chest. She matched her softness to his roughness, offered freely what he sought to take, met his violence with surrender. Silently her body communicated what she hadn't been able to say out loud.

Yes, I need you . . . love . . . yes, I'm yours . . . As he felt her response, Ben groaned and released the nape of her neck. His arms wrapped tightly around her.

Their bodies burned underneath their clothes, hun­gry to be free of all that separated them. Ben's vio­lence disappeared, and in its stead grew the sweet ache of desire. Intoxicated with a potent mixture of lust and love, he tried to fill himself with the taste and feel of her. His tongue plunged deep in a frenzy of hunger, and she moaned as she writhed against him.

They sought to be closer, but he encountered the hard ridges of corset stays as he searched for the shape of her. Her skirts were a mass of petticoats and pro­tective layers of cloth. The only thing accessible to him was her mouth, and he devoured her wildly, kiss­ing, kissing. Panting as if he had run for miles, Ben ran a shaking hand over her hair, remembering how it had trailed over his body last night. He was starving for the feel of her na**d and unbound beneath him.

The impulse to take down the tight braids pinned to her head was too powerful to resist. Although he knew it would anger her, he found the end of a hairpin with his thumb and forefinger and pulled it out. Immedi­ately Addie gasped and wrenched away from him as a lock of hair fell to her shoulder.

"Give that back to me," she snapped, flustered as she held her hand out for the pin. "What are they going to think if I walk in the front door with my hair falling . . . Give it back!"

He was tempted to refuse. Let her walk in like this. Let them see her all flushed and disheveled, and ev­eryone would know for certain how things stood be­tween the two of them. But Addie's imperious little hand was shoved further into his face, demanding the return of what he'd stolen, and despite the urgings of the demon riding on his shoulder, he placed the hair­pin in her palm. She accepted it without a word of thanks, winding up her hair and fastening it securely in back of her head. Her breath came gustily between her lips, proof of the turmoil he'd caused within her.

"I didn't do anything to provoke that . . . that dis­play. If you're going to behave like that, then stay away from me until you can find some self-control!" She shot up and went down the two steps to the ground. This time he didn't prevent her, merely watched her with brooding eyes. "You're perfectly capable of be­ing a gentleman when it suits you, and from now on I demand-"

"You want me to be a gentleman? That's a far cry from what you wanted last night. Or is your demand only good up until bedtime?"

"Ohhh!" She was too incensed to answer. Turning on her heel, she left to go back to the house, muttering curses against him and men in general.

Addie groaned softly in her sleep, twisting against the clinging sheet, floating in a netherworld of dreams . . . or was it memories? . . . watching herself in fa­miliar scenes. She saw her own face, the same and yet so terribly different. The voice, the body, even the hair. . .it was all hers, but the shading, the resonation, the texture of the picture was different . . . twisted. . .off-key. Why were her eyes so cold? Why was her face so empty?

She and Jeff sat on the porch swing, talking in con­spiratorial whispers, touching discreetly, absorbed in each other. The evening sky threw concealing shadows over them, and they sat close to each other, comfort­able in the darkness. They had been there for a long time, drawn deeper and deeper into a secretive com­munion, until they broke past the barrier of forbidden subjects. And they discussed what should never have been planned.

"It's got to be done soon," Adeline whispered. She curled up closer to him, her eyes dark and feline as she concentrated on him. "He's waiting for his lawyer to get here from the East."

"You won't have to do anything. I'll take care of it. I just need a name from you. "

"I'll have to think about it," she said, silently cal­culating. She would have to pick the right man, some­one smart, someone without a conscience.

"Adeline, if you're worried about the rest of your family—"

"We'll all be better off this way." A hard smile curved her lips.

"But about how you're gonna feel after it's done—"

"I won't care. Why should I? If he cared about me, he wouldn't want to change his will. After it's changed, it'll be in trust for years, and I won't get anything till I'm an old woman." Adeline noticed the amazement in his expression, perhaps even a touch of fear at her callousness. She sought to soothe him. "He only cares about Ben Hunter. He doesn't want me to be happy. I never have been. But it'll be different with you, won't it, Jeff?" She stroked her finger down the front of his shirt, hooking it into the waist of his pants. Slowly she rubbed the back of her knuckle against his tightening abdomen. "We'll be happy together," she said, and Jeff sighed hungrily.

"Oh, yes. Yes. Just help me with the name. Some­one from here. It's the best way. I'll do the rest."