She released a trembling sigh and turned her gaze away, only to have him drag it back. “The situation isn’t that easy. I—I’m not like the other girls. I—I can’t do what they can, no matter how much I might want to.”
Drake strove to read some meaning into her words, knowing that whatever she was trying to convey bothered her deeply. Yet, no matter how he tried, his mind circled back to one thing. He couldn’t understand how she could kiss him with such unabashed passion one minute, then tell him she couldn’t physically love him the next.
He scowled as he reached out and cupped an ivory cheek. The tingling sensation her cool skin caused his palm made coherent thought impossible. He wanted her; God! he wanted her, like no other woman he’d known before. And she wanted him, too. The fire in her kiss told him that. So why did she insist on building this wall between them? Didn’t she know that he would tear it down, brick by brick, if that’s what it took to possess her, body and soul?
Hope watched the emotions flickering across Drake’s face. For once they were not concealed. For once he had dropped his guard long enough to reveal the inner workings of his mind. He was confused, and he had every right to be. She had made promises she hadn’t kept. But how could she explain her reason for entering into their arrangement under false pretenses, and explain it in a way that didn’t sound foolish and contrived?
The words formed on her tongue, then stubbornly refused to spill from her lips. Her gaze misted over, settling on the sensuous line of his lips, afraid to look higher. She couldn’t stand to see the recrimination that must be floating in his eyes.
She swallowed hard. Her heart told her it was time Drake knew the truth. She would have no more lies between them.
Chapter 8
Hope’s fingers flickered over the hand that caressed her cheek before she nudged Drake away. Thankfully, he eased back far enough for her to turn and sit cross-legged, her back facing him.
She took a deep breath, then pulled the ties beneath her chin. The cloak floated around her shoulders, landing atop the floor like a blanket. She barely noticed. She was too busy concentrating on her trembling fingers as she slipped free the line of tiny buttons holding the bodice of her dress in place. She could feel Drake’s gaze through the coarse blue homespun, grazing the flesh beneath. She was glad her back was to him. She had no desire to see the disgust in his eyes when she showed him in action what her voice refused to say.
With the last button free, she pushed the ivory lace collar down over her shoulders and freed her arms from the tight-fitting sleeves. The fabric sagged, wrinkling around her waist. Now the thick curtain of her hair and the nearly transparent cotton of her chemise were the only barriers between her naked back and Drake Frazier.
A hen squawked in the distance as she worked the laces of her chemise. The white cotton joined the dress, gathering in a belt-like circle of material around her waist. She closed her eyes tight, hating the salty tear that dropped over her cheek, splashing on her bare forearm. With the last of her energy, she reached up and swept the lush chestnut waves over her shoulder, exposing her back.
Drake squinted, at first thinking the rippled stretch of flesh a trick of light and shadows. He was wrong. The scar, as long as it was wide, ran from the left side of her waist, across the delicate spine, and disappeared just above her right shoulder blade. Thicker than the rest of her skin, it had the puckered appearance of water into which a stone had just been thrown, except there was no distinct pattern to these ripples. Leaning closer, he noticed the flesh edging the scar was faded pink that gradually shaded into a more healthy peach as it neared the middle.
His heart tightened as though clenched by an iron fist. She had been burned, and burned badly. She was lucky to be alive. He had seen men die of lesser burns, whether from the trauma itself or from infection settling in after the healing process had begun. There was no risk of that happening to Hope now. This was not a recent injury, and new flesh had grown to cover the sensitive tissue and muscle beneath.
Physically, she appeared to have survived the ordeal with few repercussions. What the scar had done to her mind and soul was another matter.
Instinctively, he reached out and caressed the scarred strip of flesh. Her back stiffened beneath his palm, every muscle growing rigid with morbid anticipation. A small gasp escaped her lips at the feel of his fingers, and the sound tugged at Drake’s heart with a force he would never have thought possible.
“No,” she cried, her voice a desperate, strangled whisper as strong hands tried to turn her around. “Let me go. You’ve seen why I can’t pay you. There’s no reason for you to stay.” She hugged her arms close to her chest, rocking back and forth as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She hated those tears. She hated them almost as much as she hated the scar that crossed her back and the painful memories it accompanied.
“You’re wrong. There’s every reason for me to stay.” His voice came out as a growl filled with raw emotion, as he succeeded in turning her to face him. “You’ve avoided me long enough, Hope Bennett. I won’t let you push me away again.”
“But—” She lifted her tear-streaked face, letting his warm breath caress her moist cheeks as he captured her gaze. There was no disgust in those sea-green eyes, no repulsion, no glint of pity. Only compassion shimmered there, and—could it be? Yes. His eyes were aglow with deep, burning desire that mirrored in her soul.
Slipping a hand beneath her chin, Drake’s mouth captured her lips. The salty taste of her tears was strong on his tongue as he slowly lowered her atop the cloak blanketing the dirt.
“You should have told me sooner,” he whispered against her lips, as his hand slid down her side to the gentle indentation of her waist. Her skin felt like spun satin beneath his fingertips. “Do you know how badly I’ve wanted you?”
“No,” she confessed in a husky, awe-filled whisper as his lips trailed down the slender column of her throat. “But I know how much I’ve wanted you.”
Her arms wrapped around the thick cord of his neck as she pulled his lips to hers. She kissed him deeply, clinging to his warmth like a drowning woman clutches her rescuer. His hair was silken beneath her fingertips, the curls at his nape, still damp with rain, tickled her palms. She was lost, lost to everything except the feel of his lips, the smell of his skin, and the gentle rush of his breath in her ear. Any protest she might have made withered like a desert rose beneath the hot magic of his kiss.
A throaty moan echoed in her ears as she tipped her chin, allowing him better access to the sensitive hollow of her throat. His tongue flickered over the soft skin, a moist caress against her hot flesh. Her fingers entwined themselves in the thick golden mane, but she neither pulled him away nor guided him as his kisses trailed lower.
With feather-light fingers, he pushed away the chestnut waves hiding her beauty from view. His gaze feasted on flawless perfection before his lips lowered to tease the shell-pink nipple.
Hope sighed and instinctively arched into his long, hard length. He felt wonderful, more wonderful than she had imagined in her dreams. She could feel his need pulsing against her thigh, and she shyly launched an investigation.
Delicate fingers slipped beneath the collar of his shirt, and Hope savored the feel of him as her hands slipped over his shoulders and back. His flesh was hard, firm, deliciously enticing, every muscle she encountered alive with motion.
The buttons of his shirt slipped free with amazing ease, and soon she found more pleasures to be explored. The taut stomach tightened then relaxed as she let her hands rove over that sun-kissed stretch of flesh. The back of her fingers strayed over the side of his ribs, slipping beneath his arms until she was again free to explore the sinewy back.
And that neck! How could she resist such an inviting cord of flesh? His skin was deliciously warm beneath her lips, and tasted of fresh rainwater. Her tongue flickered over the sensitive ear, playfully nibbling on the soft lobe before shifting her exploration to its inner recesses.
Drake moaned softly and buried his face in the luxurious blanket of her hair. No sooner had his lips left her than his hand took up the investigation, his palm cupping a delicate mound of flesh. Sparks of delight twisted up Hope’s spine as she arched against him. Her fingers clung to the sun-kissed back as she tried to melt her body into his.
The rock-solid weight of him covered half her body, pushing her against the hard earth. The sensation ignited new sparks of awareness. A tug at the clothes around her waist made her lift her hips enough for the dress and chemise to be peeled away. In a matter of seconds, he had stripped away their clothes and tossed them into a crumpled heap by her feet.