She could feel him. She could feel the closeness and the fire and the wonder. Her hands ran over his chest, fluttering, searching mindlessly. Full, empty. Full again. Her breasts were full too, and achingly taut with the need for more of him.
She suddenly surged upward, taking more of him. He froze. His eyes closed. His chest was shuddering with the harshness of his breathing. “I wish you hadn’t done that. I was doing so well. I was almost civilized.” His lids flicked open. “I’m sorry. I tried.”
He went wild. Stroking, plunging, moving her. His words were fevered and sweet. His hands rough, yet loving on her body. It was all bold and hot and caring. It was blinding rapture. It was Daniel. Beauty, heat, and then a flame of glory.
He collapsed in her arms, his chest moving as if he were starved for oxygen. His big fist clenched and then hit the bed with a force that shocked her. “Dammit! I blew it!”
She was so dazed that at first she was totally bewildered. “Daniel?” Her hand tangled in the soft richness of his hair, caressing, soothing.
His face was buried in her throat and she could feel him shaking against her. “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I tried so hard. Don’t hate me, Zilah.”
“Hate you!” She shook her head as if to clear it. “Why should I hate you?”
“I wanted it to be beautiful for you, dammit. I wanted to be gentle and kind.” He laughed. “I wanted to be a damn white knight.”
“You think it wasn’t beautiful for me?” She couldn’t believe it. “Daniel, you’re a complete idiot.”
He lifted his head. “Don’t try to make me feel better,” he growled. “I was there, remember. I was rough as hell.”
Her lips were twitching. “You’re still there,” she said demurely. “And you notice I’m not objecting.”
“It’s not funny. I don’t see how you can laugh about it. I practically violated you.” His lips were tight with pain. “No generosity can excuse that.”
“Dammit,” she said clearly. “Shut up.” She framed his face with her hands and looked into his eyes. “It was beautiful. It was a little rough, because that’s a part of you. I wouldn’t have done without that part of it any more than I would the gentleness and beauty that are a part of you too.” She pulled his head down and kissed him hard. “I don’t know where you got the idea I was so breakable, but it’s not true. Understood?”
His eyes were oddly bright. “Understood,” he said gruffly. His lips covered her own with a sweetness that made her a little dizzy. He lifted his head. “All the same, I’ll do better next time.”
She shook her head in exasperation. Heavens, he was stubborn. Then she felt him stir within her and she smiled delightedly. “It looks like you’re going to get the opportunity very soon.”
“You’re damn right.” The rhythm began again, deep and lazy but just as thrilling. “That was one of my very favorite daydreams. Loving you.” His words were punctuated with a thrusting movement that took her breath away. “And loving you. Over and over. Deeper and deeper. Sweeter and sweeter. Hotter and…”
She didn’t know how much later it was when she felt his kiss on her temple. She was lying in perfect contentment, her head on his shoulder, watching moonlight filter through the fretted window across the room. The lamp was out now and there was only the darkness, the moonlight, and Daniel.
“Well, have you decided, old friend?” he asked softly.
“Decided?”
“Whether it’s the end of the world or the beginning?”
She cuddled closer. “Oh, the beginning.” Re-birth, sunrise, the world remade in his arms. “Definitely the beginning, Daniel.”
9
Those blissful feelings of renaissance and warm contentment were still with her when she opened her eyes a few hours later. It was the gray hour before dawn and she was tempted to close her eyes and go back to sleep. It was so lovely to be held like this in Daniel’s arms. She snuggled closer and felt those arms tighten around her in unconscious possession.
Last night had been wonderful and Daniel so loving. Even though no words of commitment had been spoken, surely their loving meant something. His words, when he had made love to her, had been of passion and possession. Still, later, when passion was spent, he had been so marvelously gentle and caring that hope had sprung into full bloom. But she mustn’t ask for too much. She had been given the lovely seeds of friendship and desire. She would nourish them well and pray that they would grow into love.
The room was cool. Zilah pulled the sheet higher to cover Daniel’s shoulders, careful not to wake him. She closed her eyes. Then they flicked open as a sudden memory pierced the mists of contentment. Pandora. She felt like groaning aloud. Oh, damn, it was almost dawn, and Pandora would be at the stables waiting for her.
And if she didn’t go, there was every chance that Pandora would take Oedipus out again. Not that she could prevent it anyway, she thought crossly. However, there was no question that she had to try. Not only was there the possibility of Pandora being physically hurt riding the big stallion, but even if that didn’t occur, Philip was sure to be angry enough to completely devastate the girl verbally.
Although he had been surprisingly indulgent with Pandora the night before, she remembered with a touch of speculation. In fact, Zilah had been astounded at the sheikh’s gentleness with Pandora. There had been a rapport between them that would have been noticeable to even the most casual onlooker.
She didn’t want to think about Philip or Pandora or anything but Daniel right now, dammit. If she had any sense, she would leave Pandora to her own willful pursuits and their consequences. She sighed in discouragement because even as she gave herself this very sensible advice she was cautiously removing Daniel’s arm from around her and slipping out of the bed. She knew she couldn’t do that. She cared about Pandora. The girl might be wild and willful, but there was an eagerness and generosity about her that were completely endearing. Zilah couldn’t just ignore the fact that there was every chance Pandora would get into trouble if she wasn’t there to prevent it.
Perhaps she would be back before Daniel awoke, she thought wistfully. She quickly grabbed underthings, jeans, a long-sleeved white sweatshirt, and her boots from the closet and then disappeared into the bathroom. However, with Pandora there was no telling. She’d better leave Daniel a note.
A short time later she was crossing the stableyard. The sun still hadn’t risen, though there were faint lavender streaks piercing the blue-gray clouds. She loved this time of the morning when the world was so silent that she could hear her footsteps on the soft turf. It reminded her of the many times she and Jess Bradford had risen at this hour and ridden out in the predawn mornings at the ranch. There was something about the quiet and serenity of this time of day that bred a comfortable companionship, a silent joining of the spirit.
She knew at once, when she caught sight of Pandora leaning against the fence, staring blindly out into the pasture, that there would be no serene, companionable ride this morning.
Pandora was dressed in her customary riding garb of jeans and dark ribbed sweater but that was all that was usual about her. Pandora’s back was to her and Zilah couldn’t read the expression on her face, but it was scarcely necessary. That back was braced with a tense rigidity as if to bear some torturous strain. She could almost see the effort the girl was making to retain control.
“Pandora?”
Pandora didn’t turn around. “I saddled up Dancing Lady for you. She’s still in the stall. I wasn’t sure when you’d be coming. I thought I’d wait around until you got here though.” She laughed shakily. “I didn’t want you to think I’d stood you up.”
“Pandora, what’s wrong?” Zilah had drawn next to the girl and was gazing searchingly at her averted face. “What’s happened?”