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Dante couldn’t believe he was really here and holding her again. It had taken all his courage, and all his weakness, to risk coming back.
He breathed her in, angled his mouth against hers. Then he sank. He felt life rush through him, passion cresting in dark, overwhelming waves, crashing inside him. Magic. And love. More. Adoration and beyond. His Gulnar…
“We have an hour!”
Her moan reverberated inside him, made no sense. He raised his head, gasped, “What?”
“Emilio gave us an hour.”
He did, huh? Well, well. “And do you want to devour me, like I want to devour you in that hour, Gulnar?”
Her eyes rivaled the sea in its most violent rages, slamming him with her answer. Then she said it.
“Yes.”
He hauled her back to him and she tore at his scarf, running grasping hands all over his head, his back, her kisses deluging him.
He snapped his head back again, cupped her face with both his hands, his thumbs smoothing her lips, catching her fervent kisses. He wanted to feel them all over him, cherishing and consuming. But he had to do something first. Something ugly, but the one thing that would make this possible. “Rules. Rules first, Gulnar. You may tell me to go to hell when you hear what I have to say…”
Her eyes stopped caressing him, her arms slipped off his body, then she stepped away, removing her face from his grasp and all warmth from his body.
It was spectacular, the way she turned off. Even more the way it hurt, the way he’d come to depend on her. Being deprived of her focus, even momentarily, almost wrecked him.
His jaw clenched, suppressing the pain as she moved away from him and shrugged. “I know what you’ll say. This is temporary. Anything else?”
She was OK with it, then? She really felt no
thing beyond sex? It crippled him to know that, but it was for the best. Her best. It was what had made returning possible. He shouldn’t wish for more. Should pray there was no more.
“I’ve taken the helm at the Sredna camp operation. I’ll be here for two months. And I want to spend every possible free second soaking up your nearness, your eagerness—drowning in you, Gulnar.”
“Then we say goodbye.”
He nodded, the movement slow, hard. “It’s the only thing to do. I don’t do commitment, and you don’t either. Two months, then I’ll move on.”
She looked away, stared into space. “What if it burns out way before that?”
Dante’s lips twisted. He hadn’t thought of that, had he? He’d thought she’d barely be able to tear herself away at the end. Like he would. Was she telling him there was a strong possibility she’d be sick of him inside a week?
Something tore inside him. He gritted his teeth. Just another blow to endure, to survive. He’d take that week. “No strings, Gulnar. None. You have enough, just walk away. I won’t even ask what’s wrong, won’t try to persuade you to extend our time together.”
“This applies to you, too, of course.”
Would he ever have enough of her? With her taste and essence and love embedded in his cells and echoing in his mind, there was no way in hell or on earth he’d ever have enough of her. But he’d have no more than the two months. They would have to be enough. “We both have total freedom and there will be no recriminations whatsoever when either one wants to end the affair.”
He waited for her to say something, felt the slow constriction of his heart, the vice that would keep on tightening until it cut it in half.
Maybe he shouldn’t be doing this. What if he couldn’t walk away as he intended? He’d failed once already. He’d come back and was excusing it by telling himself he’d walk away again. What if kept doing that? Inventing wilder schemes every time to be with her? What if she pushed him away and he clung?
No, he wouldn’t. One reason would always remain that would hold him back, keep him away. This time for ever.
She remained silent, her eyes downcast, and suddenly a horrible suspicion hit him. What if she just wanted one more night—less, that “hour”—and that was all? “Stop me any time, OK? If the night we shared doesn’t mean the same to you as it does to me, if it wasn’t the best sex of your life, the most magnificent thing that has ever happened to you, if you don’t stay awake at night reliving…aching for every moment and touch and sensation of our love-making…” Her magnificent eyes widened. Because she was the one used to being forward? He went on, “If you don’t walk around daydreaming about me, if you’re not going crazy not having me, just tell me to go to hell. We’ll just work together, no harm done.”
It was only when tension almost had him knocking down the central tent pole that she let out a tremulous exhalation. “You feel all that and you’d just get it all under control and work with me as only a colleague, no problems?”
“There’d be problems. Big problems. But they’d be mine. You don’t have to worry about them. I promise I wouldn’t even look at you longer than necessary.”
Oh, the way she looked at him. What did it mean? Was she going to laugh in his face now? Was it possible…?
