Chapter 20 #3
Finally, he caught her by the upper arms and made her look at him.
She was crying. Really! Britta was out-and-out crying.
He didn’t even ask her what was wrong; he just pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly, not loosening his hold, no matter how hard she squirmed. But then, she wasn’t squirming anymore. But he was still holding her.
Leaning back to look at her, he said, “You’re back.”
“Smart-brained, as always.”
He ignored her sarcasm and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth before she could slap him. “Where have you been?”
“Where in bloody hell do you think I have been?”
“I thought you were dead.” He began to back her in the direction of his car. With the cold and the wind, she was shivering, even with that strange cloak. Or maybe she was shivering because of him. He could hope.
“Did Sammy get away?”
He nodded.
“Unharmed?”
“Perfectly unharmed, thanks to you.”
She made a harrumphing sound as if to dismiss his compliment. “Well, that is one good thing in this whole sorry mess.”
“I missed you so much, Britta. Honest to God, there were times I wanted to die, too.”
“Hah! You were not missing me much in there with your hands on that woman’s arse.”
“My hands were not on her ass. Besides, you were in the arms of a man, and I don’t like seeing another man’s hands on you.”
“He is married.”
“Like that matters!”
“He is married, and I have been staying with him and his wife the past sennight.”
Oh, well, okay then. “Where were you before that?”
She closed her eyes for a minute as if seeing some painful memory. When she opened them, she said, “I killed my father.”
He let those words sink in. “Oh, Britta.”
“I have no regrets. My father was a nithing, less than nothing.”
“Are you saying you traveled back in time, and are now back here again?”
“It would seem so,” she grumbled.
The time-travel crap again! “I’m never going to let you go again.”
“You have no say over what I do.”
“Wanna bet?”
They stood glaring at each other, a stalemate. But they’d arrived at his car.
“Do you remember the last time we were together, Britta?” His voice came out raw and husky. Probably due to the cold air.
She seemed to notice her surroundings for the first time and sucked in air at the reminder of that other time. “If you think I am going to give a repeat performance in this cold on top of that car, you are more demented than I already think. My nipples would probably freeze and drop off.”
“I can’t believe you just said that.”
“What? Do you not know about hippo-therm-ia?”
“I know about hypothermia. God, I am so happy to see you.”
“I am not happy to see you.”
“Too bad. Get in the car, Britta.” He opened the passenger door for her.
“Nay.”
No longer amused by the delays, he took matters into his own hands. He picked her up, hitting and flailing, but he finally got her into the car, strapped in, and engaged the child locks on the doors. Once in the driver’s seat, he turned the car on but stared at her before pulling out.
“Stop smiling at me.”
“I can’t help it. I’m so friggin’ happy to see you.”
“You no longer have any obligation to me.”
Is she the most stubborn woman in the universe, or what? “Why is that?”
“I have decided to go off on my own.”
“And do what? The military again?”
“Nay, I am going to try something different.”
“Like what?”
“Will you stop asking me questions? I do not know. Mayhap I will be a cattlewoman. I have been riding a horse of late.”
He laughed. “Do you mean cow girl?”
“That is what I said, lackwit.”
“I am a lackwit...for ever doubting you would come back.”
“I did not come back to you.”
“Liar.”
“Where are we?”
He had pulled into his driveway, and turned off the ignition. “My home.”
“If you think for one instant that I will share bed furs with you and your wife, you are in for a good thumping, you perverted son of a snake.”
“You think I want a ménage à trois?” He grinned. “I’m not married, Britta.”
“Oh.” She turned slowly to look at him. “And the woman you were drooling all over?”
“Sammy’s teacher. And I was not drooling.”
“Mayhap you will have more children with your new love.”
“Aaarrgh! I am not married, engaged, or involved with Francine in any way. And the last thing in the world I need is another child in my messed-up life. Sammy is enough, thank you very much.”
Britta flinched.
An odd reaction, he thought.
“Is Sammy here?” She checked out the well-lit cabin.
He shook his head. “It’s our lucky day...rather night. He’s sleeping overnight at a friend’s. We have the place to ourselves.”
“I will not be having sex with you.”
Ha, ha, ha. “Whatever you say. Come on. It’s cold out here.”
She followed him meekly into the cabin, or as meekly as was possible for Britta.
While she walked around, examining the place, he added more logs to the fireplace.
“Take off your cloak, Britta.” She was sitting on the sofa now, still enfolded in the voluminous fur-lined garment.
He was pretty sure it was sable. PETA would hate it.
God, that thing must be worth a mint, even if it did smell like wet dog.
“I do not want to remove my cloak.”
“Wanna tell me what’s bugging you?”
“You are.”
Okaaaay. He went to sit down beside her, and she shooed him aside.
“Did you wish-pray me here again?”
“Probably.”
“Why?”
“Briiiitta! I’ve told you I missed you like crazy. Sammy has missed you like crazy, too. What more do you want?”
She shrugged. “I thought I wanted you. I called your keep, and the number was disconnected. Everyone else has an unlisted number...Hilda, Madrene, Cage. I was going to find a way to go back to Coronado next sennight.”
“But...?”
“But I saw you with that woman, and I realized how tenuous this bond is betwixt us, and I cannot take the chance...what are you doing?” That last came out on a squeak.
“Taking my clothes off.”
“Well, do not.”
He continued to remove his clothes and was down to his long-john bottoms.
She watched him closely, her eyes glazing over. He hot damn knew what that meant, but he needed to play his cards close to his chest. This was Britta, not his average targ...uh, prospective partner.
“I am not taking my clothes off.”
“Not even your cloak?”
She shook her head. “Especially not my cloak.”
Something strange was going on here. Meanwhile, his emotions were banging off the walls. “I was kinda hoping you would toss it on the floor, and we could make love the first time on the fur.”
“The first time?” She whimpered and stood, backing away.
He took one step forward. She took one step backward. A losing battle for her, if she was thinking straight, which she must not be. Praise God and bring on the ammunition!
Speaking of ammunition, time to bring in the big artillery. “Britta. Honey. Sammy gave me your message.”
Her blush told him that she knew exactly what he meant. She didn’t try to deny it, he had to give her that.
“It is not chivalrous of you to bring that up to a lady.”
“Lady, I’m fresh out of chivalry.” His frustration was turning into anger. “Do you or do you not love me?” He had her backed up against the wall now. She had no place to hide, or escape.
“There is so much more involved than...than...”
“Love?” He licked her neck, and for a brief second, she sighed before putting her hands to his chest and holding him at arm’s length.
Britta stared at the too-handsome rogue, and felt as if she were drowning in quicksand.
Warm, tempting, sensual quicksand. She wanted him so much it hurt, but what she decided now would have implications for not just her lifetime, but the lifetime of the child she carried.
She needed time to think. Hah! She could not think when under the influence of searing arousal.
“Zachary, there is so much you do not know. So many things to consider.”
He took both of her hands which were pressing against his bare chest and raised them, kissing first one wrist, then the other. She barely suppressed a moan. How could a mere butterfly of a kiss, and not even on her lips, enflame her so? “We need to talk.”
“No, we need to make love. And make love again. And then maybe talk.”
“Your persistence is to be commended.”
“It’s one of my better talents.”
“That was sarcasm, lout.”
“C’mon, Britta, come with me into the bedroom. I want to lay you down and show you how much I’ve missed you.”
“You fight dirty. Another of your talents?”
“For sure.” He took her hand and tried to tug her along with him.
She dug in her heels, fighting an inner battle.
She, too, wanted to make love. She, too, had missed him desperately.
But she could not let him know about the babe.
..not till other issues were resolved. Like his stated opinion that he wanted no more children.
Like his womanizing habits...leastways, in the past. Like what kind of future they might have.
An idea came to her, a way to have what they both wanted, and not reveal her secret...yet.
“There is only one condition under which I will engage in bedsport with you.”
He halted in his tugging exercise and raised his eyebrows at her.
“You need to allow me to do some things to you.”
He let out a hoot of laughter before he could catch himself. “Baby, you can do anything you want to me.”
“Be serious.”
“I am.”
“Turn around and do not look at me when I tell you my...uh, conditions.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. Man, your face is red as a beet. This must be really good.” He turned his back on her, but he still held her one hand in his.
“You must allow me to tie your hands to the bed so you cannot touch me.”
She heard the hiss of his indrawn breath and the reflexive squeeze of their joined hands.
“And you must let me blindfold you.”
Silence was her only response.
Then, slowly, very slowly, he turned and gave her his hot regard. “Are you freakin’ for real?”
She tried to back away, humiliated.
“No, no, no! You don’t make that kind of offer to a guy, then back off.”
“Dost mean you would like...um, what I offered.”
His smile now was pure, unadulterated lustsome male. “Bondage? Baby, I’m game.”
And Britta wondered if she might have entered a trap of her own making.