Chapter 10
He took his time.
He wanted to savor her, taste her honey sweetness, devour her, mate with her until they were bonded together.
But he took his time.
Brushing his lips against hers sent hot desire shuddering through his body.
She had been his first for everything.
The first kiss.
But it was nothing compared to this.
The blush of youth was behind them.
During that time, they had been clueless, innocent, and uncertain.
Now he had experience under his belt, and he wanted to teach her, to pleasure her until she was mindless with need for him.
He wanted to show off for her.
He was no longer the callow youth with braces and so thin that the bones were poking out.
It was different.
He was different.
Cupping her face, he parted her lips using just the tip of his tongue.
He swallowed her gasp and then her moan as she opened her mouth to invite him in.
She smelled like freshness, was as sweet as honey and damned addictive.
His tongue touched hers and wasn’t even aware that the groan was coming from him.
he wanted more.
So much more.
He would not be satisfied with just this.
He wanted her hands all over him.
Wanted to feel every generous curve of her body.
Suckle on her nipples until they were raw.
He wanted to sink himself so deep inside her, it would take days to get him out.
His hands slid slowly down her neck to cup the back of her head.
His fingers twisted in the coils of her hair and held her still as he invaded her mouth.
The kiss was wild and potent, sweet and dangerous at the same time.
Her lips crushed against his and he felt her inexperience.
Her hesitancy drove him mad and made him want more.
His fingers tightened at the back of her head as he yanked her hair back so that he could savor her mouth.
Yes, he thought dazedly.
This was home for him.
This tempest, this magic weaving around them, the spell that had a taste of the familiar that he had searched for ever since he left her and never found it.
He had been a fool to walk away from her and would be an even bigger fool to leave her now.
The love flowed like river and washed through his body like a tidal wave.
It staggered him, humbled him until he felt the burning at the back of his throat.
This was what he needed.
He felt the restlessness calming, his body molding to hers as if it belonged there.
He was going to have to find a way to make her understand that this was not a fluke, that this was not something that would ever go away.
He wanted her in his life for the rest of it and cursed himself for not realizing it before now.
Sensations buffeted her.
It felt like someone had lit a fuse inside her and the flames were spreading through her entire body.
Something warned her to be careful, to stop this now while it had not gone anywhere yet.
But she was melting.
Of their own volition, her hands drifted over his rock-hard chest and around his neck, her fingers linking.
He made a sound deep inside his throat as she pressed against him.
A shudder ran through his body at the speed of light when he felt her breasts rubbing against him.
he could not keep this up.
He had every intention of seducing her, using his mouth and hands all over her body to give her the ultimate pleasure, but he was rapidly losing control.
The urge to drag her to the floor and tear off her dress was so much that he had to take a mental step back.
But suddenly she surfaced.
And it felt as if she was waking up from a very long sleep.
Her limbs were languid, her body fluid.
It took everything for her to resist him.
But she must. If she continued, she was not going to find the willpower to deny him anything.
At first, he did not realize what was happening.
That she was pushing him away.
He was so far gone, the passion swamping every inch of him, that it took several moments for him to become aware of her hands pushing at his chest.
When she managed to tear her mouth from his, he shook his head and stared at her with a frown.
“Zahra?”
His voice was thick, his blood churning and the impossible heat was all but scorching him.
“Let go of me.”
Her voice was dangerously calm, her posture rigid.
“Baby, what…”
“Don’t.”
She shoved and this time managed to dislodge his arms from around her.
“I am going to bed. Alone.”
“What?”
He must have been further gone than he realized, because her words were not registering.
“You’ve had your fun Bryce.
And proven to both of us that you can rile me up.
Congrats.
It seems you can even get the fat girl to want you.
Now the experiment is over. Move out of my way.”
Passion turned to fury in a spin.
His hands gripped her arms and felt like steel bands on her skin.
His face was taut and harsh with anger, eyes blazing from it.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
She forced herself to ignore the painful ache in her heart and the tremors still wracking her body.
She had to get him to leave her alone and the only way to do so was inject sarcasm and scorn.
She was desperate enough to use both.
“Big Hollywood actor like you must conquer every territory.
I am the one from your childhood and you wanted to see if the sparks were still there.
You have women falling at your feet everywhere you go, and you had to prove that I was no different.”
She shoved at him.
“Well then, you have made your point.
I am as human as the rest.
But there is a difference with me.
I am not going to lie down and satisfy your perverse sexual curiosity.
From now on, until you leave, I am warning you to stay the hell away from me.”
They stood there staring at each other, the tension so thick, one could slice through with a dull knife.
Zahra was hoping desperately that he would not try to kiss her again, or those brave words she had spoken would be proven wrong.
Her insides were like jelly and her knees were almost giving out on her.
Even his nearness was affecting her and giving her dizzy spells.
She was aware of his subtle cologne, the stubble of hair on his face.
His hair was tousled and the yearning to run her fingers through the strands was more than she could bear.
She had to get away from him and fast.
Bryce was furious.
He had poured his heart out to her and what they had just experienced was beyond description.
She had gone and turned it into something ugly and he wanted to strike her, to shake some sense into that stubborn head of hers.
But most of all, he wanted her with a sickness that was churning inside him.
But he was damned if he would beg.
He had never begged for anything in his goddamned life and as much as he wanted her, he was not going to start now.
The mask of indifference settled over his face, and he stepped back.
“You don’t have to ask twice.”
His deep voice was cold and controlled and sent shivers along her spine.
Goodnight.”
She waited until he had left and slammed the door behind him before lowering her shaking frame in the chair.
Tears were threatening but she was not going to allow them to fall.
She had done the right thing.
She had to make him see that they did not belong together.
He was Hollywood royalty and as soon as he left here, he would be off to the next woman, the next conquest.
Meantime, she would be here stuck with memories and forced to watch him on the screen and being photographed with myriads of beautiful women.
It was better this way.
She hated that they had to part as enemies, but that’s the way of it.
She had been broken by him once; she could not afford it to happen again.
She swiped angrily at the tear that trickled down her cheek and took a fortifying breath.
Grabbing the bottle of scotch and the pack of cigars, he strode out to the balcony and pulled up a chair.
The rain was still pelting the trees and other vegetations and every so often, the streak of lightening would pierce the darkness.
He did not notice any of it.
Did not even bloody care that the chair was soaked.
He felt nothing except anger and a sexual frustration that was ripping him to shreds.
Her words came back to haunt him.
She had wounded him, slashed at him like a two-edged sword.
The hurt was so palpable that he could hardly stand it.
He had expected some sort of resistance and argument, but nothing like this.
Bringing the bottle to his lips, he took a long swallow and almost choked as the burning liquid slid down his throat and stomach.
Putting away the bottle, he shook out a cigar and was surprised to see that his hands were trembling.
So badly that he had a hard time lighting the damn cigar.
He coughed furiously as the smoke went swiftly and without warning into his lungs.
Damn her! He thought bitterly.
Damn her for bringing him to this.
She had used words to destroy him.
He thought himself immune to hurt, but he was so wrong. She had shredded him.
In the past, he had built up an immune system.
His parents were skilled at making him feel like crap and had honed their skills over the years.
He wasn’t good enough.
He was too wimpy, not strong enough.
He was a Whitlock for Christ’s sake! Act like one.
So, he had been forced to be better, but that had never been enough.
It did not matter that he was an A student or that he excelled in sports.
After leaving the States and settling in the UK, he had tried out for every sporting activities and aced every one of them.
He studied hard and pushed himself until he was better than most.
He became popular, the one they come to for advice and help with assignments.
But none of that had ever been enough for his parents.
So, he had stopped trying to impress them and had started to do whatever the hell he pleased.
He went from being the well-behaved son to going on a rampage.
After university, he went all over the place, drinking and smoking.
He had tried drugs once and it messed him up big time, so much so that he stayed away from any form of it.
He wanted a clear head, getting drunk was one thing, but getting stoned was another altogether.
Cutting off a yelp, when he felt the burn from the cigar, he pitched the glowing ember over the balcony rail and picked up the bottle.
He would leave.
In the morning.
He would pack his things and get the hell away from her and in time, he would forget even her name.
Women wanted him, for one reason or another and there was no shortage there.
Hell, he could do without a woman, if it come to that.
He had been doing without one for the past four months and counting.
He could do it again.
Go to his villa in Tuscany and spend a couple of months there.
He had money, a vast amount of it and could do as he bloody well please.
He did not need some woman from a two-bit town telling him that he should leave her the hell alone.
He had his pride.
He had been rejected by his parents too many times to allow her to do this to him too.
To hell with her then!
But the ache in his heart was still there and the emptiness was almost swamping him.
*****
He was leaving.
Well, that’s good, she thought and pounded at the dough.
And he was avoiding her as well.
She had cowardly left the task of serving breakfast to Jessica.
The rain had stopped, leaving everything soggy and wet.
Leaves had been blown off and settled in a sodden patch everywhere.
Even her prized rose bushes had not been spared.
Most of the petals were swimming in puddles.
The day was still overcast, and the temperature had taken a nosedive.
With the weather being like that, she had prepared her special oatmeal, with cinnamon, vanilla and a touch of brandy to spice things up.
The two couples were leaving today and hopefully he would too.
They came upon each other once by accident and his glance had slid over her with an indifference that cut through her like a sharp blade that left her gasping.
Her hands trembled as she coated the honey loaf before sliding it into the oven.
Tears blurred her vision, and she cursed herself for a fool.
He had moved on.
What had happened between them last night had been a diversion, a distraction for him and nothing else.
It pissed her off that she remembered how sincere he had sounded when he told her of what had happened to him.
She knew what he went through in the past when they were kids.
His parents had never been there for him.
He lived in a big fancy house with just staff for company.
And he had been lonely.
Just like she had been.
But damn him, he was not a child anymore and he was certainly not lonely now.
He did not look like the skinny kid that had everyone picking on him.
No one would dare do that to him now.
His muscles were well-defined. He was strong. She had tried shoving at him, and he had stayed there like a damn rock.
The phone rang just then, and she almost wept at the welcome interruption.
“Hello?”
“Bitch, I have been calling your cell phone for ten minutes.”
Her pulse picked up.
“Are you okay?”
“No.
I am on my way to the damn hospital.
I am in labor.”
“Oh God! Brian…?”
“Is out of town.
I need you.”
“On my way. Jessica!”
“What is it?”
The woman ran into the kitchen immediately.
“Sandra is in labor.
I put the dough in the oven…,”
she hesitated briefly.
“The two couples are leaving and Bryce, I think he’s leaving as well…”
“Don’t worry about it. Just go.”
Taking off her apron, she put it away and washed her hands.
Stepping out into the dining room, she saw that it was empty.
She should at least say goodbye, shouldn’t she? Shaking her head, she went to grab her jacket and changed into rain boots before dashing outside into puddles and a light drizzle.
It was better this way, she thought grimly as she went to her car.
*****
He watched her leave from his position at the window and despised himself for wanting to take a last look at her.
She seemed to be in a hurry.
As if she sensed he was looking at her, she stopped and looked up at his window.
Like a coward, he stepped out of view and held his breath as she stood there staring.
Letting his breath out on a whoosh, he watched as she stepped into the vehicle and drove off.
He had his suitcase open on the bed and half his clothing packed.
He had no idea where he was going, at least not yet.
He could call his assistant and have him call the pilot to meet him somewhere.
Italy, Ireland, Paris, the Caribbean, he could be gone in a minute.
And never set foot in this place again.
With that resolve in mind, he turned back to his packing, ignoring the sinking, lonely feeling in his heart.
It was better this way.
A clean break and ignore the heaviness of a heart that felt as if it was breaking into a million pieces.
*****
“Don’t leave!”
Sandra’s voice was sharp, her fingers digging into her friend’s flesh.
“I am right here.
If you would only ease your fingers off a little and allow me to get some circulation back, I would be most grateful.”
“Misery loves company.”
Sandra snickered as she eased back.
“And since my darling husband is not here to take the brunt of it, you’re next in line.”
“Lucky me.”
Her friend laughed at the dryness of her tone.
“I am not fully dilated, so this is going to take hours.
God, I want this baby out of me.”
“When is Brian coming back?”
“He is trying to get a flight out, but the weather is against him.
The poor thing is frantic.
I bet I can ask him for anything, and it would be granted without a word.”
“That’s never been a problem before.”
Zahra used the damp rag to wipe her friend’s brow.
They were in the maternity ward because she was not yet due for delivery.
The hospital was small, but efficient and the rooms clean and tidy.
Curtains had been used as privacy shields around the beds.
“How’s the movie star?”
It took willpower and lots of it for her not to jolt at the question.
“He’s leaving.”
Zahra busied herself straightening the sheets and fluffing pillows.
“So soon? I thought he was here for a month.
It’s been two weeks.”
Two weeks? Zahra thought with a pang.
It seemed so much longer.
“He has things to do.”
People like Bryce Whitlock don’t do small town for very long.”
Sandra eyed her friend curiously as she rubbed Sandra’s stomach to help take the contraction away.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Bitch, I am in pain, uncomfortable and about to deliver a baby the size of a football or even bigger, so don’t make me get off this bed and choke the answer out of you.”
“Your language needs work.”
“Zahra.”
She sighed heavily.
“He wanted to take me to bed.”
“And you said?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“He would just be using me as a diversion.”
“You said you knew him before.”
“Yes.”
She wanted something to do with her hands and to stay away from the topic.
“You were not just friends, were you?”
“No.”
There was no help for it.
Shoving from the chair, she went to the table where several bouquets were already there.
The one from Brian was huge.
Picking it up, she inhaled the scent and closed her eyes.
Turning around, she met her friend’s gaze. “We were lovers. He was my first and I was his.”
Sandra stared at her in shock.
“You were childhood sweethearts, and you never said a word.”
“There was nothing to say.”
She wandered the room and went to the window.
It was still wet out and the overhanging clouds looked ominous.
“He left and broke my heart, and I got over it.”
“Apparently not.”
Her friend’s quiet voice had her spinning around.
The protest on her lips died a slow death.
“No.”
She admitted, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket.
“I thought I had but seeing him brought it all back up.”
“And he wants to rekindle the flame.”
The flame is already blazing out of control, she thought dismally, but did not say it to her friend.
What she was feeling was too raw, too private to share.
Her heart was already leaving with him.
What she had feared had happened.
She was in love with him.
Had always been it seems.
As long as she lived, he would be the only man who could ever touch the heart of her.
It was damn well depressing.
“Yes.”
She firmed her lips.
“But it’s not going to happen, and we should concentrate on you.”
“We will talk again….Oh! I think it’s time.”
An hour later, holding the adorable little boy in her arms, Zahra felt the tears burning the back of her throat.
“He’s beautiful.”
“Of course he is,”
Sandra grinned.
Now that the ordeal was over and her husband was on a flight back home, she could smile.
All was well with the world.
“And no woman is going to be good enough for him.
Bring him here to mama.”
“Of course, I was admiring his little fingers and toes.”
She handed the baby to her friend and watched as Sandra cradled the infant, an indescribable expression on her face.
She wanted that, Zahra thought, but felt as if it was out of her reach.
And it made her feel depressed.