Public Secrets Part 272

breathe. Dammit, I wasn't a boy anymore and it wasn't a crush."

She had to struggle to find her voice. It was a different kind of fear

now. Dozens of nerves jumping to tangle over each other. "You hardly

knew me."

He shifted his gaze to meet hers. "You know better, Emma. There was

something there, when we sat on the beach. The first time I kissed

you. The only time. I've never forgotten it. I haven't been able to.

Then you walked away."

"I had to."

"Maybe you did." He pitched his cigarette out the door and let the

screen slam shut. "The time wasn't right, that's what I told myself

Christ, I've been telling myself that for years." He crossed to her. He

could feel her tremble when he took her arms, but he didn't let go. Not

this time. "When is the time going to be right, Emma?"

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"That's bulls.h.i.t. You know just what I want you to say."

"I can't."

"Won't," he corrected. "Because of him. Dammit, you broke my heart

when you married him, and I had to live with that. It seems like I've

spent half my life trying to get over you. Maybe I could have done it,

but you came back again."

"I-" She moistened her dry lips. "I couldn't help that, either."

Something came into his eyes that had her holding her breath. "I told

myself this time it would be different. I was going to make it

different. And then ... When I found out what he'd done to you I

almost went crazy. I've been afraid to touch you, all these months.

Give her time, that's what I kept telling myself Give her time to get

over it. The h.e.l.l with it."

He pulled her close and covered her mouth with his.

IT WASN'T WHAT she expected. She was trapped. There was no denying

that she was trapped against him, his body strong and hard and tense,

his mouth like a fire on hers. She'd thought she would be revolted, or

terrified to find herself held tight by a man again. But those weren't

her feelings. What emotions rushed into her came so quickly her head

spun. Warmth and pleasure and an ice-edged spear of desire.

She didn't want to give herself to them, or to him. How could she when

it meant handing her control over to someone else again? But before she

could fight, he was drawing away.

He didn't speak, just looked at her. Wide-eyed, breath quickened, she

stood absolutely still. Yes, she was trapped, Emma realized. But it

didn't seem to matter. Because she was feeling again, really feeling,

in a way she'd long ago accepted she was incapable of

The anger had drained out of him so that only his needs remained. "I

don't want you to be afraid of me."

It would be her choice. She could see that in his eyes. If she was

trapped, it was her own longings, her own dreams, that held her

prisoner. "I'm not."

His hands had gentled on her shoulders. She didn't protest when he slid

them up to frame her face. Nor did she try to pull away when his lips

touched hers again. Gently now, and soft. Her muscles went lax even as