Rex didn't say anything. He tightened his arms around her. She wasn't even aware that she was speaking again.
"It was an awful fight. I realized what he meant, and I threw the phone at him and ran. He caught me and dragged me through half the house. He kept telling me that I was still his wife." She lowered her head. "And, of course, I was his wife, and just the night before, I'd loved him. I just can't describe the terror of being powerless. Of having no control over being forced..."
"My God," Rex whispered. Like quicksilver, he moved his fingers gently over her cheek. “To think that I accosted you like that on your first night at the house. Alexi, I'm so sorry. So, so sorry." He was silent for a moment. She felt his kiss, tender and light, over her brow. She felt his arms around her, and she wasn't afraid; she felt secure.
"You kept working with him!" Rex said incredulously. "You should have taken the bastard to court."
She shook her head. "Do you know how hard it is to prove spousal assault? I would probably have lost--and the publicity would have marked me for the rest of my life." She sighed softly. "John didn't want the divorce. I did threaten to take him to court. That was the only reason he agreed to the divorce--no-fault and quick. I agreed to finish out the Helen of Troy campaign as long as he swore never to touch me or come near me again."
"Alexi, Alexi..."
She felt the soft brush of his kiss again; she felt the strength of his arms. The night was cool with the breeze, but the water was" warm as it washed over her feet.
"I'll kill him!" Rex swore suddenly, savagely. He was tense, as taut as piano wire. "I swear, I'll damned well kill him!"
Alexi twisted, startled by the vehemence, by the passion, by the caring in his tone. He was her willing champion, a fury in the night. Touched, she stroked his cheek, somewhat amazed that he could show such fierce concern.
He caught her fingers and kissed them, and she met the dark fires of his eyes. She inhaled sharply, feeling everything within her quicken. She wanted him so badly! So very badly. And she was so frightened that she would pull away again. He wouldn't want her. He was fierce against brutality and injustice, but he could not want her again. A neurotic who teased.
But he was smiling, and smiling so gently, while the starfire blazed in the depths of his night-dark eyes. He kissed her fingers again, reverently, then dropped them, and to her amazement he was up beside her, struggling out of his jacket and vest and then his shirt as she stared up at him, incredulous of his strange, abrupt behavior.
"Ever been skinny-dipping?" he demanded.
She flushed, staring at the ocean while he stripped. "Rex, you saw what just happened!"
His trousers landed in her lap, then his briefs. In the darkness she saw the bright flash of his muscled buttocks as he raced past her, splashing seawater all over her knit. In seconds he had swum out into the surf. "Come on!" "Didn't you ever watch Jaws?" she retorted. "I promise you--no great white is in water this hot!" "How about a small shark?"
"Minutely possible, but highly implausible. Come on! I dare you. I double-dare you."
"Rex..."
"Alexi! Come on! The least you owe me is a bit of good ogling."
She bit her lower lip, then recklessly stood. What else could happen? He knew the truth now. Her worst nightmare had already happened. Rex knew that she was basically asexual. And that she couldn't really help it--and why.
He'd sworn he'd kill John. She trembled suddenly, remembering his vehemence. It had just been a turn of phrase, she told herself. Rex didn't even know John. "Come on!" Rex called to her.
She hesitated only a second longer. She pulled her knit over her shoulders, then hastened out of her lacy undergarments. Even in the darkness, she could see the rich grin that slashed across Rex's features where his head bobbed along with the waves.
This was crazy. It was so dark. But she plunged into the water anyway. It was cool with her whole body immersed. Alexi had never been skinny-dipping. It felt divine. She dived and swam, shivering as she broke the surface again. She looked around. She couldn't see Rex anymore. His head wasn't above the water.
Then she felt him. Below her. Far below her. He tugged on her foot, and she gasped, laughing as her face almost slipped beneath the waves. But he didn't pull her down.
He explored her.
She felt his hands all along her legs. Felt his touch as he cradled her buttocks, felt his mouth grazing her belly, felt his kiss against her thighs....
She gasped, alive, electric, kinetic against the warmth of the Atlantic and the sheen of the moon. He had to breathe; surely the man had to breathe. He couldn't stay down forever. ...
But he could stay down a long time. A long, long time. Long enough to part her legs. Long enough to dive between them. To touch, to stroke, to glide...
He broke the surface, pulling her against him. She could barely stand against the sand and the water, the coil of sweetness was so tight within her.
"I'm going to drown," she warned him.
"No," he told her.
She barely knew the feel of his chest; she discovered it then: thick, dark hair a rich wet mat upon it. He let her touch him, then he swept his arms around her, and his kiss on her lips was demanding and thirsting and merciless, sweeping her away. She couldn't breathe; she couldn't protest. He broke from her, lifting her, and his mouth encircled her breast, drawing it in. She arched back, gasping, moaning.
"Rex..." she pleaded. "You know...I can't."
He slid her wet, sleek length against his own so that their bodies rubbed together provocatively. He waited until their eyes met, and he smiled triumphantly. "Oh, but you can."
He lifted her again, carrying her against the waves until they had just reached the shore. He laid her there and quickly stretched atop her, burrowing his weight between her thighs, kissing her hastily again, stealing breath and strength and protest from her. Kissing her so quickly, again and again. Her lips, her throat, her breast, her belly, her thighs, the very core of her, deeply, so deeply...
"Alexi."
He- was above her, his eyes on her.
"Watch," he whispered. "You can. We can."
He touched her so erotically. And she watched. And she gasped again, crying out with the sheer pleasure of it, and he slowly, completely, insolently, possessively...electrically sank his body deep within hers.
Chapter 8
Me and thee and a jug of wine."
There was the most wonderful, laconic smile on his face. He was still stark naked and not a bit bothered by it. Flat on his back, Rex lifted his hands to the heavens and sighed with contentment.
Alexi had no choice but to smile, too, curling on her side to watch him. The moon was high overhead and the stars were shimmering over the sand and the water, and she had never imagined that night could be so beautiful. She leaned on an elbow and drew a tender line down the length of Rex's cheek.
"We haven't any wine," she reminded him.
"Ah, true. Me and thee, then. In Eden. This is heaven." He drew her on top of him, lulled and sated to an exquisite point where he could pause now and savor and appreciate each little nuance of her, of the things that passed between them. He could feel the sand, gritty against his back, cool, fascinating. He could feel the sand she brought with her, those tiny pebbles against the endless silken smoothness of her flesh. She leaned against his chest, slightly flushed. Her eyes were as brilliant as gems, more wondrous than all the stars in the heavens; her beautiful lips were curled into the most awkward little smile. Her hair was still soaked, a tangled mane swept clean from her flesh now, yet it showed off the elegant lines of her delicate, exquisite features. He leaned on his elbows, laughing as she went off balance and then pouncing on her as she lay on her back in the sand, touching her cheek because he had to and studying the length of her in the moonlight because he had to do that, too.