The Devil's Own (Hellraisers 2) - Page 59

The orphans had made it impossible for her to de-emphasize the role Linc had played during their ordeal. Because, when in doubt about what to do, they all turned to him for guidance. Even though he didn’t speak Spanish, he conveyed messages to them with facial expressions, gestures, and a pidgin Spanish-English that they understood and heeded.

He acted as a surrogate father to all of them, particularly to the younger ones. He might not have wanted the role, but it had been foisted upon him, and he had grudgingly accepted it. In fact, he seemed to enjoy toting Lisa in hi

s arms and entering mock wrestling matches with the boys.

Kerry knew that Cage and Jenny had probably been burning with curiosity. Only politeness had prevented them from coming right out and asking. Linc suffered under no such restriction. Out of pure meanness, he had provided them with all the lurid details of how he had met Kerry while she stood there in mortification.

Throughout the day, she had held her breath, afraid of being exposed as a fraud. She was afraid that someone would mention a name, a name that would undoubtedly trigger a volatile response from Linc. The subject had been stamped around so many times that Kerry had become as nervous as a cat with a long tail.

By one means or another, the truth would come out. He would discover that she wasn’t what she had led him to believe she was. When he did, she wanted to be as far away from him as possible. She didn’t have to guess what his reaction would be. He would be livid.

That morning, after he had kissed her, she had started to tell him. Fearing that one or both of them might die, she had wanted to confess her lie. But she had been robbed of the opportunity by the arrival of the rescue plane. Then, after they had argued over the blasted money, she didn’t want to tell him. It served his mercenary soul right to live under the misconception.

She had felt both relief and despair when, at dinner, he had announced that he was leaving. She wanted him to leave before he found out that she wasn’t a nun. On the other hand, the thought of his leaving had crushed her. She would probably never see him again. Such a possibility was devastating. She would always be grateful to Jenny’s baby for providing an adequate, but not catastrophic, diversion.

Now, Kerry watched him, unseen, from her darkened second story window as he paced the terrace, smoking. It was consoling to know that he wasn’t able to sleep either. She wasn’t the only one in an emotional quandary tonight.

Of course what he was feeling wasn’t deep emotion. It was lust. She had seen it, blazing in his golden brown eyes, before he carefully screened them. He might be antagonistic toward her, but he wasn’t indifferent. Small comfort, that. They were still irreconcilable. He was fighting a contest of wills. She loved him.

She saw him grind out his cigarette in a planter. He looked like a man bedeviled as he raised his hands to his face and rubbed the heels of them against his eyes. She thought she heard a muttered curse, but, because it was so obscene, hoped that she had imagined that.

As she watched, he leaned down and pulled off the boots Cage had loaned him. The boots he had worn out of Monterico had been so caked with mud that the Hendrens had insisted on throwing them away with the rest of their clothes.

Linc then began pulling at the buttons of his shirt until they were undone. He peeled it off quickly and tossed it onto a patio chaise. A white gauze bandage was taped to his shoulder.

He worked free the buckle of his belt but left the belt in the loops of his jeans. The metal buckle clinked softly as he unbuttoned the top button of his fly.

Kerry covered her mouth to stifle a small, yearning sound when she realized what he was going to do. It was a dark night. The moon was a slender crescent positioned low in the sky and shedding very little light. The evening was warm. The faint wind was as hot and dry as the arid ground it swept over.

It was the perfect night for a nude swim.

Especially if one’s body was hot and restless.

Kerry ceased to breathe. In fact, she lifted a hand to the base of her throat as though to verify that she had a pulse, because everything inside her went perfectly still. She was mesmerized by the motions of his fingers as he worked the metal buttons from their stubborn holes. She couldn’t actually see his fingers moving, but she could see the movement of his arms and elbows as he struggled with the button fly of the Western jeans.

And then he was hooking his thumbs into the waistband and pushing them down. At about his knees, he let them go. The soft, well-laundered denim pooled around his ankles. He stepped out of the jeans.

And Kerry knew one thing for certain: Jenny bought Cage’s underwear. The low-slung, hip-riding briefs were the kind of undergarment a woman liked to see on a man. They were light in color and showed up in stark contrast to Linc’s dark, lean body and the surrounding night.

Blood was pumping thickly through her veins.

She saw Linc raise his hands to his waist. His thumbs slid beneath the elastic band. Then...

He was splendidly, primally, majestically naked. Rawly, proudly male. And beautiful. So beautiful it hurt to look at him. The sight of his nakedness affected her like a piercing spear through her chest.

She slumped to her knees and rested her chin on the windowsill. She exercised no maidenly shyness. Her eyes boldly moved over him. His body hair grew in intriguing patterns and showed up as fuzzy shadows on his tanned flesh. It clustered darkly and thickly around his sex.

He turned. Kerry got a glimpse of a marvelously symmetrical back. Muscled shoulders tapered to a narrow waist, and the sides sloped into a straight, shallow spine. His buttocks were taut. He walked with a swagger that excited and aroused her. His thighs were lean. His calves looked as hard as apples.

Long before she had seen her fill, he dove cleanly into the water. He hardly made a splash. He swam the length of the pool underwater before he surfaced, and then remained in the shadows beneath the diving board for a long while before he began swimming laps. He cut through the water as sleekly as an eel, his arms arcing out of the water and catching the meager moonlight.

Kerry’s body ached. Her skin seemed on fire. Her breasts tingled. She covered them with her hands in an attempt to contain that delicious, blooming sensation, but found that touching them brought no relief. It only made them more agitated. The merest movement of Jenny’s sheer batiste nightgown against her nipples provoked shameful stirrings deep inside her.

Finally Linc swam to the edge of the pool. He opened his hands flat on the tiles and stiffened his arms, levering himself out of the water until he could get one foot up on the side. He shook the water from his head and peeled his hair back, holding it off his face with both hands behind his head for several seconds before dropping his arms. He ran his hands over his arms and legs, skimming off the water.

Kerry moaned and her body flushed hotly when he ran one hand down his chest and stomach. Before it reached that thatch of dark hair, she squeezed her eyes shut.

When she opened them again, he was stepping into the discarded briefs. He tucked everything comfortably inside before letting the elastic band snap against his waist. Kerry’s mouth was dry, but she swallowed hard.

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