Mr. Imperfect(28)

Kezia wrenched her mouth away and cupped Christian's face in both hands,  breathing hard, intensely aware of the fine scattering of hair on his  chest tickling her sensitized skin. "If we do this," she said fiercely,  "it's goodbye. Promise me."

Christian turned his head to kiss her palm and a sensual shiver worked  its way up her arm and through her body. She dragged his head forward  again. "Promise me!"

In the moonlight, his eyes were a shadowy, unreadable gray. "If you want it to be goodbye, it will be goodbye," he said finally.

She nodded, knowing this was insanity yet unable to send him away with anything less than passion.

But the mood had grown somber. In silence Christian caught her hand, led  her through the garden and into the empty hotel, flicking on only  enough switches to light their way and retrieve condoms. Upstairs, in  her room, he released his hold and pulled back the drapes.

So much of the time he wore a mask of lazy affability, a wry grin that  said he knew he was too handsome for his own-and any woman's-good. But  the moonlight stripped all that away. She saw the strength of character  evident in the set of his jaw, the shadows in those startling eyes. His  victories had been hard won.

And, she thought, tomorrow I'll square off against reality. Tonight is a dream and who has power over their dreams?

Christian's face was grave as he came back to her, grave as he removed  his remaining clothes, and Kezia swallowed her panic. No, don't take us  seriously. Mustering her best Mae West voice, she drawled, "I guess  we'll have our one wild night after all."                       
       
           



       

"One wild night it is, then." His voice gave no hint of disappointment  as he drew her down to the bed, onto the expanse of white like a fall of  virgin snow in the moonlight. He rolled onto his back with Kezia on top  of him and unfastened her bra with one expert hand.

With the other he tangled his fingers in her long, silky hair, fitted  his mouth to hers and let his tongue make deep, sultry promises of how  he intended to love her.

She yielded with such sweet softness that he went as hard as the  teenager he'd once been with her. As close to exploding under the same  rush of uncontrollable lust.

Her hand reached down to touch him and he caught it, breaking the kiss.  "If you want this to last," he suggested in someone else's voice, "let  me do the touching."

Holding her unfastened bra in place, Kezia sat up and Christian groaned  as her lush firm bottom, bare under the red silk dress, pressed against  his erection.

Equally distracting was the spill of ripe breasts above the white lace  and the glimpse of taut nipple. Just when he thought nothing about this  could get any harder, it did.

He watched her eyes widen as she felt his intense physical reaction,  then darken with an elemental need that he leaped to assuage. Kezia  glided against him and he suffered her slippery readiness.

With her lids heavy with passion, her skin lightly abraded from his  stubble and her mouth swollen from his kisses, she was impossible to  resist.

"No." He ground out the word. "Not yet."

Kezia leaned forward and her bra fell in a lacy heap. "We've wasted  enough time," she said in a husky whisper. Her hair tickled as she  brushed her lips across his. "I want you now."

For answer, Christian caught her other wrist and pulled her up and  forward until her breasts hung above his face. Then he made love to them  until her breath came so fast that each nipple rose and fell against  his teasing tongue.

He freed her hands so that his could stroke and fondle. So that he could reach between her smooth legs astride him.

Kezia spread them wider and, unable to resist the invitation, he slid  farther down the bed and under her dress. Ignoring her gasp of protest,  he used his mouth and fingers to pleasure her.

She tensed, resisting the intimacy, but Christian persisted until she  let him take her beyond all restraint. When at last she cried her  release, he reveled in the rhythmic spasms against his finger inside  her, in the wetness against his mouth.

He turned his head and kissed the softness of her inner thigh, glorying  in the scent of her woman's heat mingled with the starched silk dress.  He had always loved to corrupt Kezia, seduce her into abandoning herself  to the passionate nature her conservative up-bringing would have her  reject.

This woman who was-in all the ways that mattered-incorruptible.

Gently, Christian rolled Kezia's languid form over to her back and began  to kiss his way up her sweet curves on a voyage of rediscovery. Her  hands tangled lazily in his hair, stopping him each time he reached an  erogenous zone-her navel, the fourth rib, the underside of one creamy  breast. He felt all the primal possessiveness of a man reclaiming his  birthright.

Except she wasn't his to keep.

His tongue circled her nipples, peaked and moist from his earlier  attention, but it was her mouth he lingered on, losing himself in her  taste and texture.

In the aftermath of her orgasm, her response was indolent and inviting,  and made Christian want her so badly he could only roll on a condom,  nudge her legs apart and thrust into her swollen wetness.

He stilled, closing his eyes against a sensation almost intolerable in  its intensity. As he struggled for self-control he felt the butterfly  softness of a kiss on his closed eyelids. It had the reverence of love.

Intrigued, his lids flew open and Kezia hastily lowered hers. He moved  inside her, slowly out, slowly in, stopping well short of full  penetration, forcing Kezia to lift her gaze to his. Even in the  moonlight her pupils flared with a hunger so raw it fanned his  white-hot.

His jaw dropped on a groan and she took advantage, plundering his mouth  as he'd so often plundered hers, until neither of them cared what  happened tomorrow, only what was about to happen now. Right now.

With a sob, Kezia lifted her hips to his and Christian bore down like a  man possessed. Up she lifted again, inviting even more of him, and he  drove so deep inside her he knew he was lost forever with no hope of  return.

He still loved her.

God help him, he loved this woman who wanted him to let her go. She  lifted her hips again-provocative, demanding-and Christian gave her  everything he was capable of, all of his body, most of his guarded  heart, none of his soul.

Dimly he heard Kezia cry out and he exploded inside her, lost and found, emptied and renewed.                       
       
           



       

When he came to himself again he was lying with his full weight sprawled across her, their heartbeats slamming into each other.

Christian rolled to one side. "Did I hurt you?" She could only shake her  head, but her eyes told a different story. "I did hurt you."

"I knew this would make it harder to let you go."

He tightened his arms around her. "You have as much of my heart as I can  give anybody," he said fiercely. "Why can't that be enough?"

"I love you." Her whisper vibrated with intensity and he gathered her  even closer, weak with relief. After a moment Kezia loosened his hold  and slid up the bed until her face was level with his.

In the moonlight her eyes were luminous and wise but the sadness in them  impaled him with dread. "I love you, but I'm thirty-two years old and I  know myself better than I did fourteen years ago. I need this community  and this community needs me."

"We'll split our time between here and Auckland." He was suddenly in the most important negotiation of his life.

She kissed him yearningly and he knew they could make it work. But she  pulled back. Her gaze, unflinchingly honest, seemed to search his soul,  and Christian fought the urge to break eye contact.

"I would compromise a lot to keep you in my life," she said quietly,  "but I won't compromise this. I need a man who trusts me with his  weaknesses as well as his strengths. No more half measures." Despite  himself, Christian blinked first. "And I need a man who wants children  as much as I do." Kezia paused, waiting, but he couldn't speak past the  lump in his throat.

Her voice was strained as she continued. "I've wasted a lot of years  sabotaging relationships because I so badly wanted to be with you. I  still do."

Her fingers touched his face. "But if you can't be that man, then keep  your promise and leave tomorrow because I've run out of strength to send  you away." Her next words came as a whisper but they struck Christian  like a powerful blow. "Love me that much, at least."





CHAPTER THIRTEEN




IF ONLY SHE hadn't said that. Love me that much, at least. The  risk-taker in Christian wanted to say, "Yes, I can be that man for you."  But her honesty compelled his.