To Love Again

have fallen and hurt yourself, or—God...’ he breathed shakily, his dark gaze held mesmerised by

her nakedness.

Christi knew she should pick up the towel from the side of the bath, that she should wrap

it around herself, should laugh off this awkward situation. But she didn’t want to do any of

those things; she wanted to lose herself in the heated admiration she could see in Lucas’s eyes,

unconsciously standing more proudly, her breasts thrusting pertly forward, her waist slender and

flat, her thighs silkily inviting.

Lucas swallowed hard, breathing raggedly. ‘I think I should wait for you in the

lounge,’ he murmured huskily, although he made no effort to leave the confines of the steamily

hot room.

Christi moved slowly forward, her breathing shallow. ‘Lucas,’ she said softly, holding

his gaze with hers.

He stood rigidly still. ‘I should go ...’

But he didn’t. He swayed slightly as she came to stand in front of him, but it was his only

movement.

Christi put her arms up about his neck, absently noting how white her skin looked against

the black shirt he wore with a clean pair of denims, her breath catching in her throat as the soft

material of his shirt became a caress against her breasts.

Lucas moved as if in a daze, his arms slowly encircling her, reaching up to pull the towel

from her hair.

Until that moment Christi had forgotten the towel wrapped about her wet hair, and

shivered slightly as the cold tendrils fell on her heated shoulders. And then Lucas was

threading his fingers through the silky dampness to cup her head for the descent of his lips, and

fire was the only thing she was aware of.

There was no gentleness, only fierce demand, his mouth moving expertly against hers,

tasting her like a man who had been starving in a desert.

She entwined her arms more tightly about his neck, glad of her height as their

thighs met in abrasive demand, Lucas hard against her.

He wanted her! If she had ever doubted it before, she knew it for certain now, his body’s

involuntary reaction something he couldn’t hide.

His hands were like fire against her, and she shuddered with emotions too long

suppressed as one of those hands closed over the tautness of he r breast, easing some of the

aching heat there as his thumb-pad stroked the hardened tip.

‘I want you,’ he groaned against the silky length of her throat. ‘Dear God, I want you so

badly!’

Nerves pulsed and leapt as his mouth caressed her shoulders, his tongue searching out

the creamy hollows of her throat.

Her whole body tingled with need, her back arching as his mouth finally took her

breast, suckling against the fiery nub in a slow rhythm that made her legs tremble and quake.

Christi held him to her, wanting more, groaning her satisfaction as his teeth nibbled against

her with pleasure-pain.

Liquid fire met him between her thighs as he caressed her there, groaning low in his throat at

this evidence of her readiness for him.

She wouldn’t have cared if Lucas had lain her down on the bathroom floor and taken

her there, so great was her need for him, but Lucas had other ideas. He swung her up into his

arms to carry her into her bedroom, laying her down gently on the bed, before standing over

her.

Christi groaned at the indecision in his face. ‘Don’t go, Lucas.’ She held out her arms

to him, her expression pleading. ‘Stay, and make love to me.’ She almost sobbed with her need.

As he still hesitated, his face racked by indecision, Christi came up on her knees on

the bed, holding his gaze as she began to unbutton his shirt, running shaking hands over the

hardness of his flesh before slipping the shirt from his body completely.

His chest was covered with fine dark hair that disappeared in a V beneath the material of his

jeans, and Christi’s questing lips followed the path of that silky hair, gazing up at him with

pleading eyes as her fingers moved to the fastening of his denims.

Lucas swallowed convulsively, one of his hands moving to cover both of hers.

‘Christi, we can’t

‘We can,’ she insisted firmly. ‘Let me, Lucas,’ she groaned, looking at him with dark blue

eyes.

He gave a low moan, his eyes slowly closing as his hand fell away from hers, although

both his hands moved into clenched fists as Christi slid the denims from his body.

She had seen him only that afternoon in bathing trunks, had thought then he was the most

beautiful man she had ever seen. But naked he was even more so, like a gold and bronze

sculpture come to life, every part of him beautifully smooth and firmly muscled.

He stood perfectly still as her searching hands and lips learned every inch of him, his

increased ragged breathing and his tensed muscles the only outward evidence that he was fast

losing control.

Suddenly he couldn’t stand any more; his hands gripped her arms tightly as he stopped her

caresses, pushing her down on the bed before covering her body with his, his mouth fiercely

possessing hers as his tongue fought a silent duel with hers.

Christi felt like sobbing with the sheer beauty of the moment, giving herself up

completely to the wild sensations coursing through her body as Lucas caressed her as

intimately as she had him only seconds earlier, gasping as he sought her out in a way she

hadn’t dared to with him, writhing on the bed with heated abandon as that liquid fire flooded her

whole body.

‘Now, Lucas,’ she choked her desperation. ‘Lucas, it has to be now!’

The soft lamp-glow made his eyes look almost blue as he looked down at her

searchingly. ‘Did you really mean it—about those other men?’ His voice was gruff.

‘Mean it?’ she echoed wildly, not understanding what he meant. And then, as his gaze

roamed regretfully over her body, she knew. ‘It isn’t going to make any difference, Lucas?’ she

cried brokenly. ‘You aren’t going to be noble, are you?’ She shook her head in silent denial.

He gave a self-derisive snort. ‘I stopped being noble with you the moment I walked

into your bathroom and found you naked. But I have to know, Christi.’ His fingertips ran

caressingly down one cheek. ‘I don’t want to hurt you." She swallowed hard. ‘I’ve never wanted

anyone else but you, Lucas. Does that answer your question?’ She was completely

vulnerable as she gazed up at him.

‘Yes,’ he breathed softly. ‘Dear God, Christi,’ he groaned suddenly. ‘I wish I could stop

this.’ He grimaced as if in pain. ‘But it’s too late for that, far too late!’ He shook his head

weakly.

‘I love you, Lucas.’ She smoothed the frown from between his eyes. ‘I’ve always loved you.’

‘It doesn’t help—I have no right—but I need—I can’t fight that need any more!’ He

shook his head self-disgustedly, his mouth savagely claiming hers even as his thighs surged against

her, seeking entrance, surging into her as he found his way blocked by that gossamer

barrier, her cry of pain lost, and then forgotten, as she moved with him instinctively.

Christi felt complete for the first time in her life, and as that aching fire grew and grew

in her body she knew there was even more, feeling herself rising higher and higher, seeking,

searching

‘Marry me, Christi,’ Lucas groaned heatedly, his body a silky caress against hers. ‘Marry me!’

‘Yes! Oh God, yes!’ Sensations unlike any she had ever known racked her body, taking

it in wave after wave of blissful pleasure, aware of the deep surge of Lucas’s body as he too

reached the peak of fulfilment, sobbing quietly in his arms as the beauty of their shared

passion washed over her.

Long after Lucas had fallen into a deep sleep, neither of them interested in the

dinner that had once seemed so appealing, Christi lay awake, her heart once again feeling as if

it were breaking.

She had wanted Lucas’s loving, had begged for it, but he hadn’t spoken of loving her,

had only allowed his body to do that, while his thoughts had remained detached from what he was

doing.

She had watched him with the children today, knew the torment he was going

through at the thought of some other man bringing them up, knew that he had been driven by

desperation tonight, had been fighting for the right to have custody to his children in the only

way that now seemed open to him: if he were married himself, he would have more to offer his

children than ever before.

And what better choice for a wife than the young woman he had always known was in love

with him? He had said he ‘had no right’, but that he ‘needed’, and in that moment Christi had

known why he needed her.

But it hadn’t mattered. Not then, and not now. Her heart was breaking at the way

Lucas had finally become hers, but she knew he had no other choice, that at least they could

be friends and lovers even if Lucas couldn’t offer her any more than that. He had to have a wife if

he were to stand any chance of getting custody of Robin and Daisy, and with Marsha’s

wedding next month he didn’t have any time to waste.

Christi looked down at him with loving eyes as he lay against her breast. Long dark

lashes fanned out across his cheeks, giving him a boyish appeal, leaving him completely vulnerable.

Her arms tightened about him. She didn’t care how or why he was hers, only that