[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
She missed a step and he caught her, easily, holding her upright.
"That ankle is hurting you. You shouldn't be dancing," he said firmly.
"The therapist said to exercise it," she said through her teeth. "And she said that it would hurt."
He didn't say what he was thinking. If the ankle was painful after five long weeks, how would she be
able to dance on it? Would it hold her weight? It certainly didn't seem as if it would.
She saw the expression on his face. "I'll dance again," she told him. "I will!"
He touched her face with lean, careful fingers, traced her cheek and her chin and around her full, bow
mouth. "For yourself, Meg, or because it was what your mother alwavs wanted?"
"It was the only thing I ever did in my life that pleased her," she said without thinking.
"Yes. I think perhaps it was." His finger traced her lower lip. Odd how tremulous that finger seemed,
especially when it teased between her lips and felt them part, felt her breath catch. "Are you still afraid
of making a baby?" he whispered unsteadily.
"Steven!" she exclaimed. She jerked her face back and it flushed red.
"You made me think about what happened that last night we were together before we fought," he said,
as if she hadn't reacted to the question at all. "I remember when you started fighting me. I remember
what I said to you."
"This isn't necessary...!" she broke in frantically.
"I said that if we went all the way, it wouldn't really matter," he whispered deeply, holding her eyes.
"Because I'd love making you pregnant."
She actually shivered and her body trembled as it sought the strength and comfort of his.
He cradled her in his arms, barely moving to the music, his mouth at her ear. "You didn't think I was
going to stop. And you were afraid of a baby."
"Yes."
His fingers threaded into her soft, silky hair and he drew her even closer. His legs trembled against
her own as the incredible chemistry they shared made him weak. And all at once, instantly, he was
fully capable and she could feel it.
"Don't pull away from me," he said roughly. "I know it repulses you, but, my God, it isn't as if I can
help it...!"
She stilled instantly. "Oh, no, it isn't that," she whispered, litting her eyes. "I don't want to hurt you!
You used to tell me not to move when it happened, remember?"
He stopped dancing and his eyes searched hers so hungrily that she could hardly bear the intensity of
the look they were sharing.
His lips parted as he tried to breathe, enmeshed by his hunger tor her, by the beauty of her uplifted
face, the temptation of her perfect, innocent body against his. "I remember everything," he said tautly.
"You haunt me, Meg. Night after empty night."
She saw the strain in his dark face and felt guilty that she should be the cause of it. Her hand pressed
flat against his shirt-front, feeling the strength and heat and under it the feverish throb of his pulse.
"I'm sorry," she said tenderly. "I'm so sorry..."
He fought for control, his eyes lifting finally to stare over her head.
Meg moved away a little, and began talking quite calmly about the state of the world, the weather,
dancing lazily while he recovered.
"I have to stop now, Steven," she said finally. "My ankle really hurts."
He stopped dancing. His eyes searched over her face. "I'm sorry about what I said to you last night,
when I asked you," he said curtly. "I wanted you to the point of madness." He laughed bitterly. "That, at
least, has never changed."
Her eyes adored him. She couldn't help it. He was more perfect to her than anything in the world, and
when he was close to her, she had everything. But what he wanted would destroy her.
"I can't sleep with you and just... just go on with my life," she said softly. "It would be another night,
another body, to you. But it would be devastating to me. Not only my first time, but with someone
whom I..." She averted her eyes. "Someone for whom I once cared very much."
"Look at me."
She forced her eyes up to his, curious about their sudden intent scrutiny.
"Meg," he said, as the music began again, "it wouldn't be just another night and another body."
"It would be for revenge," she argued. "And you know it, Steven. It isn't about lovemaking, it's about
getting even. I walked out of your life and hurt you. Now you want to pay me back, and what better
way than to sleep with me and walk away yourself?"
"Do you think I could?" he asked with a bitter laugh.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]