But even if he had a fully equipped, lavishly furnished penthouse on Park Avenue, he couldn’t ask a woman like Kerry Bishop to share her life with him. He was from the streets. A thirty-five-year-old hoodlum. He’d had no formal education. He wasn’t just rough around the edges, an unpolished gem, he was seedy to the marrow.
She had lived in comparative luxury. She could probably speak more languages than he could name. She was refined, educated, and a member of the socially elite. And whether she believed it or not, no one was going to hold her old man’s corruption against her. On the contrary, she was probably admired by many as a tragic heroine.
She was also the best damn thing ever to happen to Linc O’Neal, and he simply couldn’t handle it.
Breathing a slow, silent sigh, he crossed the room and gazed down at her. If things were different... But they weren’t, and there was no sense lamenting what couldn’t possibly be. Life would sure be dismal without her. She was like a spark, constantly ready to ignite, shedding warmth and light on his cold and dreary world.
Linc braced his hand on the wall behind the bed and leaned over the headboard. He was tempted to kiss her one last time, but was afraid that would wake her up. Instead, he touched her lips lightly with his thumb. Lord, she was beautiful. She was exciting. His gut twisted painfully at the thought of never seeing her again after today.
He’d never said the words to another soul. Possibly he’d said them to his mother, but he had been so young when she died that he didn’t remember. He knew he’d never said them to the dour, unfeeling man who had sired him. He whispered them to Kerry Bishop now.
“I love you.”
Seconds later, her violet eyelids fluttered. He was afraid his confession had awakened her, but she came awake too slowly for that to be the case. She stretched sinuously, raising her arms above her head and pointing her toes as far as they would reach. The movement pulled the sheet away from her breasts and left them vulnerable to his gaze.
His jaw was steely with tension as he restrained himself from leaning down and taking one of those perky, pink nipples into his mouth and worrying it slowly with his tongue until she came fully awake. It cost him tremendous effort, but he kept his features remote.
When Kerry’s eyes opened, she had an unrestricted view of his armpit. Impishly, she reached up and tickled it. He lowered his arm and turned away.
“It’s early,” he said over his shoulder. “You don’t have to get up.”
“I want to get up if you are. Or could I tempt you back into bed?”
He glanced at her as he pulled on his shirt. Her dark blue eyes were sultry with invitation. The sheet was draped over her lap, but she sat with back straight, breasts bare. Her hair was spilling over her shoulders. Her nipples were high and pointed. She looked like a priestess of some South Seas pagan cult.
He didn’t need to be tempted. He wanted her so badly already that he could barely pull the fly of his jeans together.
“No. I need a cigarette.”
“You can smoke here.”
He shook his head. He heard the apprehension creeping into her voice and avoided looking at her. “I need coffee, too. Do you think Cage and Jenny would mind if I started a pot?”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t.”
Linc could see in the mirror over the dresser that her eyes were following every single movement he made. Anxiety crept into
her expression. She had no doubt expected affection and tenderness this morning. He hadn’t even given her a token “morning after” kiss. He couldn’t trust himself to. If he ever held her again, he knew he wouldn’t be able to let her go.
“I’ll see you downstairs.” Cursing himself, he headed for the door.
“Linc?” She had used the sheet to cover herself. That more than anything stabbed at his conscience. No longer a beautiful woman, unashamed before her lover, she was now self-conscious in her nakedness. Her smile lacked conviction, but she made a valiant attempt at one. “What’s your hurry?”
“I’ve got a lot to do today. As soon as I shoot the orphans meeting their families, I’m out of here.” He couldn’t bear her shattered expression, so he turned away and grabbed the doorknob. “See you downstairs.”
Once the door was closed behind him, he paused in the hallway. He would have been surprised by the agonized expression on his face. He clenched his teeth to hold back a cry of anguish. Then, expansively cursing life and the tricks fate played on people, he went downstairs.
Kerry let the water of the shower beat against her with punishing force.
It hadn’t been a dream. Her body bore the marks to prove it. Even without physical evidence, every precious memory was branded on her mind. Linc had been her lover last night. More than that, he had loved her.
He had been exquisitely tender. Attentive to her every desire and need. Affectionate. Extremely sensual. It was as though he had read her most secret sexual fantasies and fulfilled them.
This morning, he had been a cold, remote stranger, as hostile as when he had first learned that she had shanghaied him. Only this time had been worse. Then he’d been angry. This morning he’d been indifferent. She preferred a negative emotion to none at all.
As she descended the stairs after dressing, her indomitable optimism encouraged her to believe that Linc’s distant mood this morning stemmed from his need for nicotine and caffeine, and that after he had had his morning ration of both, he’d be reaching for her again and kissing her with the boundless passion he had demonstrated last night. Maybe he just wasn’t a morning person.
She refused to consider the nasty alternative: that she was an “easy lay” and that once he had satisfied his curiosity and gotten his fill of her, he was ready to move on.