Mail-order Bridegroom Part 71

Outside she could hear frogs croaking and insects chirping above the soft sound of the surf. Inside she could hear the bed creak as Damon rolled over.

Her jaw tightened.

She turned on to her side, tucked the afghan around her, and willed herself to sleep. The moonlight bathed the room in a soft silvery glow. It was peaceful, she told herself. Soothing. She could sleep here. She knew she could. There was nothing to fear with Damon in the other room Except that dark shape scuttling across the floor towards her.

"Aargh!"

Kate leapt to her feet and scrambled to the chair, standing on it, her knees shaking, teeth chattering. "G.o.d!" It was pure prayer, a desperate pleading for salvation.

"What the She unscrewed her tightly shut eyes and ventured a peek. It looked like the c.o.c.kroach from h.e.l.l. Used to the rather small, mundane New York City variety and hating them, she didn't even want to think about one the size of her fist.

Still trembling, Kate licked her lips. Another one appeared from beneath the cupboard.

She suppressed a squeak of horror, sinking on to the chair and wrapping her arms around her knees, clenching her teeth together to stop them from making noise. Her heart felt as if it were doing a fast-stepping dance in her chest. She took deep, even breaths, hoping it would slow down.

And all the while she gazed with morbid fascination as the two bugs trundled about the room, one of them moving towards the cushion she had just abandoned. She shuddered.

There was no way, no way, she was sleeping down there again tonight.

Or ever.

Slowly, carefully, she relaxed her grip on her calves and stood up, still in the chair, still watching them unblinkingly as if one might suddenly decide to fly right at her.

Could they fly? It didn't bear thinking about.

She took a mighty leap and almost flew herself into the bedroom where she bounded into the bed next to Damon. He grunted as the bed jostled."I'm not sleeping out there! There are bugs out there!""Mmm.""You sleep out there!""No." One arm reached out and slid around her shoulders, pulling her down firmly next to him.

"But--' " Be quiet, Kate. Just be quiet and go to sleep. "

She tried wriggling out of his grasp, but he had her pinned beneath one

strong arm and one hair- roughened leg.

"s me or the bugs, Kate," he said sleepily.

"Take your pick."

Some choice.

For what seemed like hours Kate lay, stiff as a board, as far towards heredge of the bed as possible while Damon made a soft whuffling sound, curledon his side and breathed more deeply.

At first she watched him expectantly, with as much trepidation as if he'dbeen one of those monster black bugs about to attack her. But time wore on and Damon didn't move.

Gradually she relaxed, felt the tension slip from her shoulders and herspine, felt her legs slacken and her fists unclench. But she didn't sleep.Couldn't.

She was too wide awake. Too aware.

Slowly, carefully, she turned on to her side so she could watch this man towhom she was married.

She remembered studying Damon briefly as he'd slept on the aeroplane, b.u.t.that hadn't seemed nearly as intimate as this did. Then his features had softened slightly, his eyes had been closed, his collar b.u.t.ton opened and histie askew, but he'd still seemed remote and formidable in his starched whiteshirt and navy wool suit.

But as she lay beside him in bed, she found that he was formidable in anentirely different way now. It wasn't the hard-edged, decisive businessmanthat she felt in awe of this time, it was the supremely fit, well- muscledmale.

And yet for all his masculine potential, she found herself feeling oddlyprotective of him.

Damon looked even more exhausted now than he had on the night flight backfrom Vegas. The lines of fatigue on his face seemed more p.r.o.nounced, thehollows of his eyes more deeply shadowed. And Kate found herself wanting to edge closer to him and put her arms around him, letting him rest his head against the softness of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Oh, yes, right, and then what? she asked herself, irritated at her own foolishness. Would you really want what would happen next?

For there was no doubt in her mind that comforting would not be what would take place. He would want to make love.

Kate remembered the last time she had been in bed with a man, remembered the fiasco that had been her marriage her first marriage, she corrected herself.

She had been eager and willing to make love with Bryce. At least, at first she had.

Of course she knew she was inexperienced; she hadn't thought it would matter.

They loved each other, didn't they? So if things were awkward at first, it wouldn't matter. The expertise would come.

But Bryce didn't have the time or the patience for that.

He wanted his satisfaction and he wanted it now. Even that very first night he had reached for her rather impatiently and had taken as much satisfaction as he could get with her 'not a lot," he'd told her scornfully the day he'd left then rolled away and fallen into a heavy slumber.

And Kate had lain awake at his side on their wedding-night feeling lonelier and less fulfilled than ever.

It hadn't got any better.

She cringed now at the memory of it. Worse, she recalled, she seemed to have been powerless to change it.

With Bryce the closeness she'd craved had always eluded her. They'd had s.e.x, but they'd never had true intimacy, nothing like the soft words, gentle touches and implicit understanding that went beyond the body to touch the heart. They hadn't had love. Not really.

And in this marriage there was no love either. For all that she was attracted to Damon, for all that she wanted to reach out to him^ there was no use. No use pretending. Damon might awaken, he might reach for her, he might even consummate their marriage. But he, too, would be simply a.s.suaging a physical need. And he would doubtless find her as lacking as Bryce apparently had. He would slake his need, use her the same way Bryce had, and he, too, would see the lack in her.

Kate couldn't even bear to think about it. She'd loved once. She'd tried.

She'd failed. She didn't want--couldn't take--more of the same with Daroon.

He awoke late. Restless and rested at the same time. The sun streamed in the window halfway up in the sky. Damon groaned. He could imagine what Teresa would say about that.

He could imagine what Kate would say too, for he realised that he was still lying in the bed. Her bed.

He remembered toppling on it last night, remembered listening to her turn on the shower, remembered telling himself that he'd move in a minute.

And then he remembered. . . What?

What did he remember? Some vague discussion with Kate. . its being her bed, something about his being a gentleman. something about . or not.

He groaned again.

Obviously he hadn't been.

And then? And then. . .

She'd left. And come back.

He rolled on to his back and rubbed his fists into his eyes, then pressed onthem, trying to recapture the memory. Or had it been a dream?

He supposed it could have been a dream. He'd had enough of them lately.Lurid, erotic fantasies in which he and Kate had made slow, tantalising love.

This time he remembered--dreamed about? -- reaching out in the night andfinding her there. He'd been too tired to do more than draw her close and wrap his arms around her, then settle his chin in the curve of her shoulderand breathe in the sweetness of her hair.

He pulled the pillow over his face and folded his arms across it. He ached just thinking about it.

"Is this a new form of meditating or are you suffocating yourself?"

Damon jerked the pillow away from his face to see Kate at the foot of the bedlooking down at him. He groped wildly for the sheet and was relieved to findthat it covered him. Of course he was clothed-barely--but that didn't meanshe wouldn't be able to notice his obvious arousal.

Hastily, still keeping the sheet over him, he sat up. "How about trying tocompose an apology?"

Kate c.o.c.ked her head.

"I stole your bed."

Was it his imagination or was she blushing? She took a quick step backwards.

"Yes, you did." She avoided his gaze, going to open the blinds, thenstraightening the cloth on the small round table in front of the window.

He watched her, curious now, memories flitting in and out of his mind,teasing him. making him wonder. He traced a pattern in the sheet but hiseyes never left her.

"So you slept on the floor?"

"Of course! You don't think I slept with you, do you?" Bright spots of colour stained her normally ivory cheeks.

"A man can hope."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I have these memories, you see." And he did even as he spoke. It was coming back to him now.

"Something about a bug. . .?"Kate glared."Well, what did you expect me to do? Stay on the floor when there were insects the size of dinner plates waltzing around?""Ah." He leaned back against the headboard and grinned up at her."So it wasn't a dream.""Some of it was! You were. . you were. . snuggling. . up to me!Making noises! ""Noises?" That wasn't the way he remembered it. "Maybe I was kissing you."Her teeth came together. She lifted her chin and stared at the far corner of the ceiling and didn't reply.

"Was I?"

She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her shorts "Maybe you were."

A corner of his mouth lifted wickedly.

"Couldn't you tell?"

Kate stamped her foot.

"All right, you were."

"And obviously with great success. Did anyone ever tell you that you're

terrific for a man's ego."

"No one asked you to kiss me."

"Was it disgusting?" He tried to sound as if it were purely a matter of idle

curiosity. It wasn't. He wanted to kiss her again now that they were bothawake. He wanted to grab her hand and pull her down On the bed beside him,strip off her shirt and smooth the shorts from her hips. He wanted. . .

d.a.m.n it! This was not the way to gain self-control and composure.

"I didn't come to talk about your kissing me," Kate said Stiffly. "I came to tell you that Silas is up at the house. He wants to know if we want to go fishing. " "Do we?"

Kate blinked.

"He said to ask you."

"And I'm asking you. We are husband and wife on our honeymoon. We are

spending the day together. Would you like to go fishing?"She hesitated."What's the matter?" he asked."No one's ever asked me before.""To go fishing?""No. Well, that too, I guess. But what I meant was, no one's ever asked me whether I wanted to do something. My father, I mean. Or. .or Bryce. They always just. . a.s.sumed. "He stared at her, amazed, and she shrugged helplessly, then ducked her head, the colour blooming in her cheeks again.

"It's not a big deal," she said gruffly.

But Damon thought it was. He felt an unaccountable anger towards her father

and her husband. What kind of men were they, not to take her wishes into