Tears of the Renegade. Linda Howard
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to her face, staring at her as if he could pierce her thoughts. She paled and looked away. Why had he done that? He’d made it plain by his silence these past three weeks that their flirtation hadn’t meant anything to him; why look at her now as if he meant to drag her away to his lair? How could he look at her like that, when he held Cheryl in his arms?
Susan pushed her thoughts away by entering into a conversation about vacation cruises, and kept her back turned to the center of the room. It was a tactical error, but one she didn’t realize until she felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end, the age-old warning of danger nearby, and she knew that Cord was behind her. She tensed, waiting for the contact that she knew was coming. His hand touched her waist at the same time that his dark, husky voice said above her head, “Dance with me.”
A variation of the same tune, she thought dazedly, allowing herself to be turned and taken into his arms. Taken…that was the operative word. She felt taken, as if the simple closing of his arms around her had sealed her off from the rest of the world, drawn her deeply and irrevocably under his spell. She was crazy to dance so close to the flame, knowing that she would be burned, but she felt helpless to resist the temptation of his company. As his arms brought her close to his body, the virile scent of his subtle cologne, mingled with the intoxicating smell of his male flesh, went straight to her head and she all but staggered. His hand was burning through the fabric of her dress and scorching her skin; her breasts throbbed and tightened in mindless response, completely out of her control, and she closed her eyes at the powerful surge of desire. Her heart was thumping heavily in her chest, almost painfully, sending her blood zinging through her veins like electrical charges.
There seemed to be nothing to say, so she didn’t try to make conversation. She simply followed his lead, intensely aware of the fluid strength of his body, the animal grace of his movements. His warm breath was caressing her temple like the fragrant spring breezes that she loved, and without thinking she opened her eyes, lifting her misty, dreaming gaze to meet the laser intensity of his.
Something hard and frightening was in his gaze, but it was swiftly masked before she could read it. The hard planes of his face were taut, as if he were under some sort of strain. He muttered, “I’ve tried to stay away from you.”
“You’ve succeeded.” Confused, she wondered what he meant. He was the dangerous one, not she. Why should he want to stay away? She was the one who should be running for safety, and the fact that she wasn’t had her almost in a panic.
“I haven’t succeeded at all,” he said flatly. The arm at her waist tightened until she was pressed into his body, his hard thighs sliding against her, making his desire firmly obvious. Susan pulled in a wavering breath as her fingers tightened on his shoulder. He dipped his head until his mouth was against her ear, his voice a low rumble. “I want to make love to you. You’re responsible for this, sweetheart, and I’m all yours.”
The words should have frightened her, but she was beyond fright, already oblivious to anything beyond this man. Her senses had narrowed, sharpened, until he was the only person in the room who was in focus. Everyone else was blurred, distant, and she danced with him in an isolated glow. She closed her eyes again at the thrill that electrified her from head to toe.
He swore softly under his breath. “You look as if I’m making love to you right now. You’re driving me out of my mind, sweetheart.”
He was making love to her, with his words, with every brush of his body against hers as they moved in time with the music. And if he was tortured, so was she. She had been utterly chaste since Vance’s death, not even kissing another man, but now she felt as if Cord possessed her in the most basic sense of the word.
“Cheryl came with me, so I’ll take her home,” he said, placing his lips against her temple as he talked. “But we’re going to have to talk. Will you be at home tomorrow afternoon?”
Dazedly, she tried to recall if she had made any plans for the next day; nothing came to mind. It didn’t matter; even if she had, she would cancel them. “Yes, I’ll be there.” Her voice sounded odd, she noted dimly, as if she hadn’t any strength.
“I have some business to take care of tomorrow, so I can’t nail down an exact time when I’ll be there, but I will be there,” he promised.
“Do you know where I live?”
She could feel his lips curving in a smile. “Of course I know where you live. I made a point of finding out the day after I met you.”
The song ended, and she automatically moved away from him, but his arm tightened around her waist. He grinned, his teeth flashing whitely in the darkness of his beard. “You’re going to have to shield me for a few more minutes.”
A delicate rise of color tinted her cheeks. “We shouldn’t dance. That would only…prolong the situation.”
“We’ll find a corner to stand in.” A twinkle danced in the glittering depths of his eyes. “We’ll have to stand; I’m incapable of sitting down right now.”
She felt her blush deepen, and he chuckled as he moved with her to the edge of the room. She was aware deep inside herself that her heightened color wasn’t from embarrassment, but from a primal excitement. She wasn’t shocked that he was aroused; she was proud!
He positioned himself with his back to everyone else, his broad shoulders effectively blocking her view of the room. His eyes roamed slowly, intently over her face, as if he were trying to read something in the serenity of her expression. “Did you come with Preston?” he asked abruptly.
“Yes.” Suddenly she wanted to launch into an explanation of why she was there in Preston’s company, but she left the words unsaid and let her simple reply stand on its own. Preston was her brother-in-law, and she was fond of him; she wouldn’t apologize for being with him.
The magnetic power of Cord’s eyes was frightening; tiny prisms of light seemed caught in them, holding her gaze captive. Her breath caught in her throat and hung there, swelling her lungs, as she waited for him to release her from his spell. “Am I horning in between you and Preston?” he finally asked in not much more than a whisper. “Are you involved with him?”
The breath that she’d been holding was released on her soft answer. “No.”
A smile lifted one corner of his hard mouth. “Good. I just wanted to know if I have any competition. It wouldn’t stop me, but I like to know what I’m up against.”
No, he didn’t have any competition—in any sense. He stood out like a cougar among sheep. The thought of him turning his single-minded attention on her was alarming, but at the same time, she already knew that she wouldn’t say the words necessary to turn him away. She knew that she should run like crazy, but her body refused to obey the dictates of common sense.
A tiny frown flickered across his brow as he stared down at her, as if he had seen something that he hadn’t expected. He couldn’t be wary of her, or alarmed by her femininity; he had known far too many women for there to be any mysteries left for him. Perhaps he was surprised to find himself flirting with her, because she certainly wasn’t his type. Perhaps he was looking at her quiet face, her becoming but unspectacular dress, and wondering if he’d temporarily lost his mind. Then the frown was gone, and he smiled faintly as he brushed her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “Tomorrow, sweetheart.”
“Yes.”
Susan both dreaded and longed for the next day to arrive, but with outward calm and practiced self-discipline, she made it through the remainder of the evening with her usual dignity, chatted normally with Preston on the drive back home, and even went through her nightly routine without missing a beat. Once she was in bed, however, lying alone in the darkened room, she couldn’t keep her thoughts from swinging dizzily around Cord, picturing his saturnine face, his incredible lodestone eyes, the black beard that was as soft as a child’s hair.
He had a black magic that went to her head like the finest champagne, but how could she be so foolish as to let herself be drawn into the whirlpool of his masculine charm? She’d be sucked so