Father and Child Reunion Part 3. Christine Flynn

of was how safe she felt at that moment, how protected. Nothing could intrude when he held her. None of the uncertainties, or questions, or hurts. Even if the feelings were an illusion, for now she needed them desperately.

      “Rio?” Her voice sounded thready, hushed. “Please don’t go home tonight.”

      The motion of his hand stopped, his fingers still threaded through her hair. “If that’s what you want,” he finally said, sounding as if he found it understandable that she didn’t want to be alone, even if he hadn’t expected the request. “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

      She shook her head. “I mean stay with me. Holding me.”

      “Eve. I can’t do that.”

      She didn’t know which hit harder. The absolute certainty in his voice, or the look in his eyes that clearly said he thought she’d finally slipped over the edge. She ducked her head, embarrassed for having asked, feeling like a fool for confusing his concern with caring.

      “Honey, don’t.” He refused to let her go, his expression as tormented as his words when he saw the hurt clouding her eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

      “It’s okay.”

      He swore, the whispered epithet harsh and unforgiving.

      “No. It’s not okay.” Knowing her as he did, he knew she’d never have asked such a thing of him unless she’d been desperate. And all he’d done was make her feel worse than she already did. “I said I just wanted to hold you, but that’s not true.” It had been when he’d said it. When he’d reached for her, he’d meant only to offer comfort. But the moment he felt her sag against him, altruism had gone to battle with want, sensibility with need. “I’ve never stopped wanting you, Eve. Even after all these years, all I can think about when I’m with you is how you taste and feel and move. Don’t you know that?”

      Her heart hammering in her throat, she slowly shook her head. “When we’re together, you never come anywhere near me.”

      “There’s a reason for that.”

      He didn’t trust himself around her. Eve got the message clearly enough when his eyes, dark and glittering, settled on her mouth. The knowledge did something very freeing to her spirit. As controlled as he so often appeared, inside he was a man doing battle. And she was a woman who very much needed that man.

      “I’ll stay.” He would do that because he knew how long and lonely some nights could be, and heaven help him, he couldn’t stand the thought of her here by herself. “But you know what will happen if we’re in the same bed together.”

      “I think so.” She touched his chest with her fingertips, her fingers trembling. “But it’s been so long, you’ll probably have to show me all over again.”

      Her words were too honest to be deliberately provocative, but the images they evoked of the first time they’d made love played pure havoc with Rio’s brain. She’d told him then that he’d have to teach her what to do. And he had. Too impatiently, he was sure.

      Clasping her hand in his, he drew it to his mouth and brushed a kiss to her wrist. Beneath his lips, her pulse leapt. “It’s like riding a bike,” he whispered, threading his fingers through hers and drawing her arm behind her back. “It’ll come back to you.”

      His last words were murmured against her mouth, his breath hot against her cheek. When his tongue touched hers, Eve thought her legs would buckle, but he caught her to him, letting her use his body for support. Long moments later, her breathing altered, his just as erratic, he bent and picked her up in his arms.

      “Get the lights,” he told her, swinging her toward the switch on the way out of the kitchen.

      He turned off the front lights himself, using his forearm as they passed through the foyer. With the filtered lights from the porch and hall upstairs illuminating the way, he carried her up the stairs, pausing just outside Molly’s open door.

      “Is she okay?”

      Seeing the soundly sleeping child, Eve whispered that she was. Quiet as air, he turned to the room Eve had claimed for herself and used his foot to swing the door partway closed once they were inside.

      The filmy curtains were open, moonlight streaming into the tiny, atticlike room. The daybed was against one wall. A chair and dresser against another. Eve watched the shadows move over his face as he slid her down his body to the floor, then reached past her to close the door the rest of the way. In those muted shades of gray, his noble features were taut with purpose and possession.

      “I can still sleep on the sofa,” he told her, skimming his hand down her arm. He laced his fingers through hers, smoothing her hair back with his other hand.

      She shook her head. At least, she thought she did. She was really only aware of his eyes, intent on her face, and the feel of his fingers drifting down her neck.

      “I want you here,” she finally said, just so there’d be no doubt.

      There was none. The possessiveness in his eyes moved to his touch as the mesmerizing movement of his hand reached the collar of her blouse. With the tip of his finger, he nudged the fabric aside and drew his finger along her collarbone, trailing a line of heat to the hollow of her throat. His touch lingered long enough for him to feel the quickened beat of her heart before he carried it between her breasts, then back up to trace her jaw.

      “You haunt me, Eve.” His features seemed to tighten even more. “You must.”

      His fingers drifted back to her throat, robbing the strength from her voice. “Is that bad?”

      He shook his head, but she didn’t know if he meant it wasn’t, or that he didn’t know. It didn’t matter. The way he touched her, sensitizing her nerves as he reacquainted himself with the texture of her skin, the shape of her body, made it impossible to think of anything other than what he was doing.

      His mouth brushed hers, causing her to tip her head back with a little moan when he stepped closer and began to slowly unbutton her blouse. His tongue slipped intimately over hers, teasing, coaxing, while his hands worked their way down to the waistband of her jeans. When he reached denim, he tugged out her shirt, shaping her bare ribs with his hands and her breasts with his palms before he peeled the cloth back over her shoulders.