The Courage to Love, page 10
It was impossible not to respond. Her body began to tremble on the cusp of another orgasm, simply from his. The passion expanded, growing stronger. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t deny it. Not this. Not him. She cried out and arched her neck, not caring that it was snowing, that the snow was melting against her skin, that he had nearly killed them or that he was coming all over her hand. Or maybe it was because of all these things and none of them that her heart clenched along with her body.
He kissed her again, breathlessly, but as passionately as before. When he released her lips, he licked a path to her ear. “I never cheated on you. Never,” he whispered harshly. “It was all a lie to keep you safe.”
The confession did odd things to her—painful, overwhelming things—but he gently cradled her face in his hand and brushed his lips over her tears, somehow soothing her. The tenderness was at odds with the passion they’d shared. It was like two different people existed in them both.
When the icy air and the freezing snow finally did intrude, so did the awkwardness of keeping her hand down his pants. His was as uncomfortable down hers. He must have agreed. With a low rumble, he lifted his hips and withdrew her hand, wiping it in the snow then on his jacket. His gaze never left her face. The seriousness unsettled her even more than the ups and downs of her emotions.
“I never cheated. I never lied about loving you.”
She let her head fall back, as well as her hands, unwilling and completely unable to argue with him any longer. But you didn’t love me. You loved her…Nicole.
He buttoned her up with the efficiency that came with familiarity. She let him, too confused to contradict him. His hair was longer, thick enough now she could dig her fingers into the soft brown silk.
What have I done? She’d as much as admitted she was Nicole. With a man throwing her from the train then falling on her like he couldn’t go another second without her, she’d lost her mind. He’d made her lose her mind.
“What now?” She sounded cold, like Nicole. She wanted to cry. “I mean, now that you’ve taken the only means of reaching Paris away.” The heated accusation was met with silence. She let it drag on until she was so cold that she wanted to throw snow at him.
“There’s a town not too far,” he murmured gently. “We’ll hike there. Here.” He took off his jacket and tried to hand it to her. She resisted. “Here, Nicole—”
“It’s Andy. Try to remember that the next time you shove your hand down my pants.”
He grinned and nodded as if that was the best advice he’d been given. “I’ll remember that, Andy,” he stressed. “Now, again, I don’t care what you want to be called, but keep challenging me like that—”
“Challenging you?” She stood and stomped the snow out of her clothes, trying her best to ignore the after-climax tingles still rippling all over her. I am not Nicole. I will not be her again. She glared at him. He stood there watching her with a calculating expression. So much for savoring my first orgasm in months. “I didn’t ask you to a game of darts—”
She was suddenly right back in his arms. He reached up and held her head with one hand so he could meet her eyes. It happened so fast that she had no time to do anything except stare at his hard expression. “You keep talking like that, and it’s a challenge. I’m man enough to take you up on it. Believe me… After what you’ve been doing, I’m more than ready.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She donned her best scowl, but deep inside, her body shivered in arousal. She tried to stem the flow. All her life she’d been confused by her desires, most of which revolved around a man showing her he was stronger—strong enough to show her exactly what pleasure could be like, intense passion that might include something she’d never tried, letting go of her control. This man was straight out of those fantasies—arrogant, confident and clearly able to take her to places she wasn’t sure she wanted to go, if her recent orgasm meant anything. Still, that didn’t mean she was ready to let him, not by a long shot. “And I really don’t care.”
He cocked his eyebrow upward. “Keep that up and you will. There’s one man in this relationship—”
“We don’t have a relationship—”
“And I’m that man.”
“We do not have a relationship!” She pulled hard enough that if he didn’t let go, she’d be hurt. He let her go. His expression was determined. It was a shock. It shouldn’t have been. Steven was the shadow of this man. This man was who she’d sometimes see shimmering in Steven’s eyes.
“We’re married.” He settled his fists on his hips as if that settled that. “That’s about as deep in a relationship as you can be. Get that clear.”
“We are not married.”
He hauled her back into his arms, but this time with hers pinned to her sides. He caught her braid and tilted her head so she was forced to meet his eyes. That heat was there again, that hot, intense expression. Primal. That was what it was. Primitive and wild, as if he’d stepped out of the past and was going to prove she was his in ways she might never be able to walk away from.
Her nipples peaked, strained to reach him through their clothes. Stunned, she froze, then her senses returned. Her self-defenses flared. “We are not married.” She twisted, trying to break free.
Shocking her, he lifted her in his arms and anchored the thick crown of his cock to her pussy. He was so tall that she had to wrap her legs around him and let him take her weight completely. That wasn’t a problem, because he jerked her closer so they were nose to nose. His cock, hard again and thick, pressed against her pussy with the same bruising force with which he’d held her ass. A fine sheen of sweat blossomed over her spine, despite the frigid temperatures.
“Don’t tempt me to prove that point to you, baby. You’re my wife. You will always be my wife.” His anger was so clear, so hot, that it was another thrill. His erection was a brand against her body. Even through the layers of clothing she could feel it, eager to please them both. “You think you can keep pushing me? Don’t. You’re in danger. I won’t allow it. So right now, it’s time you put the damn jacket on and start moving that pretty ass up to the road.”
“You really are an asshole—”
“The swearing is cute, but name-calling is going to get your ass paddled. Now, stop fighting me and start working with me. We can have this out as soon as you’d like once we’re at a hotel, but we’re not doing it out here.” He dropped her, tugged the jacket over her shoulders and shoved her arms through the sleeves. He bent right afterward and dug her backpack out of the snow then slung it onto his shoulder. “Now, move it.” Lifting an eyebrow, he waited.
This wasn’t the man she’d married. This was a man who could—and would—keep his promises and his threats.
“Don’t threaten me,” she warned.
He lifted both his eyebrows, his expression all innocence “Threaten you? I would never lay a hand on you in anger.”
“You did. You just did!”
He shoved a hand through his chocolate-brown hair, blue eyes narrowed in frustration. There were flags of color on his cheeks and sweat beaded his brow. Here was a man who wanted one thing—her. The knowledge did odd things to her.
“You’re my wife. I damn sure wouldn’t hurt you. There’s no threat here. I’m relaying the facts. Keep pushing and I’m not going to hold back. We both held back before, eh? Now is not the time for me to show you how little control I have when it comes to you. But you know I’d never hurt you.”
“That’s not what you said. You threatened to paddle my ass!”
His smile was frightening because it was filled with pure male confidence. “That wasn’t a threat. That was a promise.”
A shiver traveled down her spine again, waking her still-moist pussy. She spun away and started walking, so confused that the wilderness was a blur of white.
“I’m certain you’d like it,” he said.
The promise in that tone made the shiver erupt deeper.
“A small one, enough to remind you who you belong to.”
Intrigued, she glanced over, catching his attention lifting from her ass, which he couldn’t see with the Godzilla-size jacket he’d put on her. She still trembled a little.
“Enough to burn but not hurt too badly,” he added.
“Pervert. Whatever you want to tell yourself,” she muttered.
Ian. Ian Hutchinson was not the finely dressed Steven Masterson, who liked to play golf and make soft gentle love to her up until he’d stopped. She resumed walking, scolding herself with every dragged footstep. I let him touch me. I admitted who I was.
He laughed. “I doubt you can imagine how perverted I can get, but I promise, not one thing is designed to hurt.”
She fisted her hands to keep from beating on him again, but she wouldn’t hold back her words. She never would again. She stopped to face him, ignoring the cold wind and the way it blew snow in her eyes. Inside she was warm, blazing hot. The ice is gone and never coming back. “Since you already hurt me, right?”
“I never meant for you to be hurt—”
She snorted and started walking. “Please. You cheated—”
“Those photos were photoshopped. That was us.”
Photoshopped? She glanced over at him and slipped on her next step, banging her knee on a rock. “Ouch! Look. Don’t talk to me. Okay? I want to ignore that you exist.”
He chuckled. “That’s not happening.”
“It would if you’d shut up, asshole.”
“I warned you—”
“Stop!” Her scream came out hoarse and she coughed afterward, but she was so angry she refused to let him touch her, even when she turned and began walking away, slipped and barely caught herself from slamming her knee again. “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to look at you and I don’t take orders. I think it and I say it! I don’t hide it. I don’t…do nice!” She caught her breath, unsure what she’d said, let alone how to stop now. His expression was shocked and concerned. She didn’t want that concern. “Leave me alone.”
He threw his arms out and glared at her. “I’m not going to leave you alone!”
She swore his shout echoed around them.
He stalked forward until he was right back in her face. “I was forced to do that for months! It ripped my heart out. It killed me not seeing you every day, to sleep without you there!” He shook her gently. “It fuckin’ killed me, Nicole. Don’t you get it?”
“Then you should have been there!” She slammed her fists on his chest again and again, until she was so exhausted she rested her head on his sternum, tears burning her eyes. “I want to go on alone…without you.”
“What? Are you insane?”
She shoved away. “I don’t trust you. I don’t even like you. You lied to me. You hurt me. Even if you didn’t cheat, you lied, knowing it would hurt me. I want nothing to do with a person that would do that.”
“It didn’t seem that way ten minutes ago when you were in the middle of an orgasm,” he noted.
She jerked his jacket off and threw it at his head. “Well, thank you for ruining that, too.”
“Nicole, you—”
“It’s Andy, goddamn it!” She trembled because she was so angry. All my life I’ve wanted to be Andy, and now I am, and he wants to make me go backward, to be Nicole again. “Andy. I am Andy Nicolas. I’m a single, hard-working journalist. I earn enough to travel. I like vodka. I take tequila body shots like a pro. I dance in clubs. I eat Thai food with my fingers. I love to go on walks on the beach. I’m Andy. If you piss me off, I’m telling you! If I don’t like you, I’m telling you! I’m Andy, Andy…”
He grabbed hold of her as the world blurred through her tears. “I know. I know that you’re Andy. I know you. I know you.” His embrace tightened, giving her the pressure she needed to hold herself together. A touch on her cheek, the lightest of caresses and he caught a tear with his finger. Expression tender, he tucked his head to hers to brush a kiss to her temple. “Not letting you go. You’ll understand why I had to do what I did and how damn much it tore me up hurting you, as soon as I get you safe. But you saw those men. You felt that gunshot hit right near your skull. They will take you, and if they can’t take you, they will kill you, and I can’t let that happen. We had death threats, too many to count. We had to do something. Believe me. For now, believe me.”
“Death threats?” She brushed at her tears and held on to his shirt, not sure what to do, what move to make that wouldn’t hurt.
“Can you trust me here? A little, baby?” The blue in his eyes went darker as his expression turned tender and concerned. “We need to get out of this snow, and we can’t stay here for long. They’ll come for us. They’ll know we jumped the train.”
She sniffed and rubbed her eyes again. “Fine. Only until we get somewhere else, somewhere safer.” She took his jacket back and slipped it back on.
“Then I’ll explain,” he agreed.
She didn’t correct him. It wasn’t what she wanted, and she wasn’t sure his explanation would even help.
He’d stood by and watched her hurt, watched her battle his infidelity and the board fiasco and done nothing. How could she forgive him, even if he had the best explanation in the world? She couldn’t. I can’t go back to being Nicole. We get to safety, and I leave. This time, I go where he can’t find me.
Chapter Twelve
Nicole didn’t believe him, but it didn’t matter. Ian had been prepared for that since he’d learned how far she’d gone to get away from him. Far. A new identity, a new face, a new life. One without him.
Not a chance.
He wasn’t leaving her side. She seemed to think otherwise, but he’d grown up stubborn while she’d learned it. She didn’t stand a chance.
“Here… We go up and over the tracks then down into town. It’s the only way to get there unseen.”
She nodded and turned where he’d pointed, hiking up through the new snow easily enough. Nicole—Andy—was small and delicate but she was stubborn and she had spirit. He rubbed his chin, thinking on the pain in her voice, the frustration and tears. She had questions, but hell if he didn’t have more. Nicole had hidden this part of herself from the world, only showing him small glimpses before the mask of gentle, well-mannered aristocrat settled into place. Andy wore her emotions for everyone to see—and her passion.
He understood far more than she knew. He’d been afraid with Nicole, afraid to be himself, to be the man he was. He wasn’t any longer. She either loved him as he was or she didn’t. He couldn’t imagine loving Nicole more, but this side of her, this Andy, had his heart aching to hold her, protect her and keep her safe, but also to push her. Andy could take him, all of him, and hand it right back to him if she needed to. She fit him, not because she accepted his strength but because she fought it, making him prove he was man enough for her.
She glanced over and their eyes met. She exhaled and waited for him to say something. What? He didn’t know. She was more beautiful in that moment than any other time before—except that wasn’t true. She had always been beautiful, but now, he could see her strength shimmering around her like a halo.
I’m a fool. I get her back, have her in my arms then shove my hands down her pants and nearly fuck her in the snow. His cock twitched, reminding him that she’d had her hands down his jeans, stroking him not minutes before. He was struggling to control the hard-on. His balls were drawn up tight again, ready to imprint on his wife that she was his. The thought of bending her over and taking her, marking her with his teeth and seed, had his shoulders tensing. He wanted that, to make her his so she’d never forget.
He’d learned a lot in his life, and one lesson was crystal clear. There weren’t many second chances. He had one now, and he knew better than most to cherish it. Then why didn’t I cradle her close and show her tenderness? He thought a minute then had his answer. Because Andy didn’t want it—or need it. She needs me, though. And I’m going to give her what she needs.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked, turning her attention to the small village below them.
“Yeah,” he offered, knowing it wasn’t anything compared to her. “Let’s see about getting a room on the quiet. We say we lost our cases. It happens up here.”
“To idiots.”
He laughed. “Yeah, to idiots. Come on. This idiot is freezing.”
She snorted but headed downhill. He thought she’d smiled, but he wasn’t certain. By the time they made it to the village, the sun was lowering like an orange ball settling over the town’s backdrop of jagged peaks. The air was freezing. She pulled his arm toward the first sign that read ‘pub’. Inside, the warmth from the giant hearth hit his face, immediately easing some of the cold stiffness.
“Here.” She shrugged off his jacket—or tried to. He stopped her.
“Keep it.” He wasn’t certain they were staying. The place was full, but most of the crowd was local, with a few backpackers thrown in. It was dimly lit, with a fireplace in the dead center, booths along a wall and tables between. The bar was crowded, the music playing in the background, but most of the noise came from everyone talking. No one even glanced their way. He ushered Nicole to an empty back booth, far enough from everyone that he had a clear view of the lodge. She tried to sit on one side, but he sat down beside her, and she scooted over with a grimace. “We stay together.”
“You think they’re already here? How is that possible? Where is Smith?”
“They could be here. Anything is possible. Smith’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
Nicole huffed and tucked herself tight to the back wall, facing him. She was cold, but she’d warm up. Her temper was already hot enough.
Ian focused on the bar, spotting a tall, blond kid serving beers. He waved him over.
“Can we have two beers and a menu?”
The kid nodded happily enough, eyes darting from him to his sullen wife. “Sure thing. American?”
