In Serena's Web Page 9

  “What do you want me to say, Brian? That I’m heartbroken? We both know hearts don’t break. They just hurt. But we don’t die from the pain, even though we sometimes think we will. Time heals—a cliché, but only because everyone knows it’s true. Well, I’m hurting, if you want to know.”

  It wasn’t an accusation, but Brian felt the sting of his own conscience. That … and something else, a new pain he couldn’t define.

  She smiled at him, her gray eyes tranquil again. “It isn’t your fault you can’t love me, Brian. I’d be hell for you anyway. I’d distrupt your orderly life.”

  With a faint sense of surprise, he heard his taut voice. “You give up too easily.”

  “Then what should I do, Brian?” Her voice was quiet. “Play Let’s Pretend? Let’s pretend I never plotted in the first place. Let’s pretend you’ll never feel trapped. Let’s pretend we’ll have an affair and not hurt when it’s over. Let’s pretend I don’t need a promise you can’t give.”

  His throat was aching again. “Rena—”

  “I suppose I’m an anachronism. Out of step. I suppose I should say, ‘Oh, what the hell, passion might become love.’ But I can’t say that. And you wouldn’t believe me if I did. But if you want to pretend, Brian, I won’t say no.”

  She looked down at the cards still in her hand. Softly she added, “I couldn’t say no to anything you asked of me. Don’t you know that?”

  Brian couldn’t take his eyes off her still, averted face. “Is that why you’ve been acting as if I never held you in my arms?” he asked huskily.

  She nodded almost imperceptibly. “I can’t control this, remember? You wouldn’t have to ask, wouldn’t even have to touch me. Your room or mine, it wouldn’t matter, not tonight. But in the morning … I’d know there’d be an ending. And you’d feel guilty, because you’d know I needed more than one night, more than an affair.”

  Her soft, honest words stole his breath away, and Brian could feel his heart pounding. And he hurt, because a stubborn part of him was still unwilling to consider commitment. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

  Serena looked at him finally, her eyes darkening. “And I don’t want to be hurt. But I don’t want to live this way anymore—in limbo. I can’t stand the sleepless nights, and being afraid to touch you.” She drew an unsteady breath. “Let’s pretend, Brian. Let’s make believe it won’t matter in the morning, or next week.”

  Brian had to grip the arms of his chair tightly to prevent himself from jumping up and taking her in his arms. “How long could we make believe, Rena?” he asked harshly. “How long before you’d hate me for what I’d done to you?”

  “I wouldn’t hate you,” she told him quietly. “I don’t even think I’d hate myself. I’m a grown woman, Brian; I know what I’m saying. I want you. And I’m asking you to let me make that decision.”

  He knew the struggle within him was obvious, knew she saw what it cost him to refuse. “No,” he said, finally, hoarsely. “No, Rena, I can’t let you do that.” Stiffly, feeling his entire body ache, he rose from his chair and left the room.

  When Josh stepped into the lounge some three hours later, he found Serena seated alone. The clutter they had left earlier was gone. There was a soft drink beside her, and she was absently dealing crooked poker hands to imaginary players.

  “Where’s Brian?” Josh asked, sinking down in a chair.

  “In his room, I think.” She looked at him. “Was the blonde really a blonde?”

  “I didn’t ask,” he retorted.

  Serena smiled, gathered up her cards, and went about methodically stacking the deck for another crooked deal. He watched her, interested, and waited until she’d dealt the cards before commenting critically, “A nine doesn’t belong in a royal flush; you’re slipping.”

  She ignored the information. “Josh, a hypothetical situation.”

  Josh, who knew very well that stating a hypothetical situation was something like announcing that one had a “friend” with a problem, nodded blandly. “I’m listening.”

  She appeared to gather her thoughts, and then spoke slowly. “You have very honestly made it plain to someone that he or she has the power to hurt you. If this person takes a certain action, you’re going to be hurt eventually. The action itself won’t hurt you, but the ramifications will. Both of you want the action to take place, but he—this other person—refuses because he knows you’ll be hurt.”

  Josh, perfectly aware of what they were talking about, nodded. “I see. And so?”

  Serena gave him a frustrated look. “Don’t be dense.”

  He smiled. “All right, I won’t be. You’re saying that Brian has refused to—uh—advance your relationship physically because he knows that, for you, it’s forever, while for him it isn’t.”

  She winced, but nodded.

  “This is a hell of a conversation to be having with my sister,” Josh said parenthetically.

  “We’ve always been able to talk about things that matter to us,” she reminded him. “So talk. Tell me what to do.”

  Josh waited, and, as he’d expected, Serena began shaping the situation verbally so that she could see it clearly.

  “By being honest, I’ve painted both of us into a corner. He knows I love him; he knows how I feel about having an affair. I’ve set it up wonderfully,” she said bitterly, “so that he’ll feel hellishly guilty for taking advantage of this—this physical chemistry between us. Dammit, Josh, I don’t want him to feel guilty! How can I convince him that I’ll feel cheated for the rest of my life unless I—unless we—oh, hell.”

  After a moment Josh said gently, “Have you told him that?”

  “That I’d feel cheated? No, not in those words. Would you feel guilty in the same situation?”

  He nodded immediately. “Guilty. Responsible.”

  “Trapped,” she added with a bitter tone. Then, defiantly, she went on. “Why should he feel guilty just because I have this masochistic desire to be hurt?”

  Quietly Josh answered, “Because he’ll be the one holding the lash.”

  Her defiance melted away. She shook her head in a gesture of defeat. “Yes. Yes, I know that. I’ve really messed things up, haven’t I?”

  “You were honest; you couldn’t be anything else once you’d stopped plotting.”

  Serena sighed. “I suppose.”

  She gathered the cards back up, shuffling them absently. “I just don’t know what to do about it,” she murmured. “Unless I could get him drunk and take advantage of him. He could hardly blame himself then, could he?”

  Dryly Josh said, “Contrary to what you obviously believe, liquor is not an aphrodisiac. In fact, it tends to have somewhat of a dampening effect.”

  “Oh.” She looked at him, started to say something, then fell silent for a long moment. Abstractedly she said, “I’m surprised he hasn’t come looking for me. He’s never left me completely alone since he found out about Daddy’s troubles, unless I was safely locked in my room.”

  Josh hesitated, then said, “Well, he didn’t leave you completely alone this time. He stopped in the lobby and ordered the P.I. to keep an eye on you.”

  She laughed a little, then rose to her feet and laid the cards aside. “I think I’ll turn in. Why don’t you call Brian and tell him you saw me safely to my room?”

  “Not unless I do,” Josh told her firmly, rising also.

  “Ummm.” She looked at him thoughtfully. “Meet me by the elevators, then, okay? I want to speak to the desk clerk before I go up.”

  Josh felt honor-bound to ask what she was up to now, but decided not to. He had a strong feeling that what he didn’t know this time wouldn’t disturb his sleep. He didn’t even want to speculate about it.

  A brother was better off not knowing details.

  Dawn’s light was filtering through the drapes when Brian woke with a start. He’d lain awake most of the night, restless and troubled, and wasn’t really surprised that the dream that had awakened him had been decidedly
erotic. Soft hands touching him, and the elusive scent of a familiar perfume …

  Then, as Brian got both eyes open and functioning, his breath caught in his throat.

  “You left the night chain off,” Serena said huskily. “I thought you probably would.”

  She was there in reality, in his bed. His senses ignited when he realized that only the blankets covered her and only a pocket of warm air separated them. She was on one elbow, watching him, the blankets gathered to barely cover her breasts.

  Beautiful.

  “Serena—” he choked out, fighting the urges she had unleashed with her very simple and straightforward action.

  Silently she reached out to touch his chest, her fingers exploring the mat of dark gold hair and the tensing muscles beneath.

  He trapped her hand against him, forcing out words. “No, Serena, for God’s sake. I told you I wouldn’t let you—”

  She didn’t bother to argue. Instead she moved closer to him, abandoning her loose hold on the blankets, her lips feathering softly along his jaw. Brian felt the press of her breast against his arm, and what sanity he could still claim spun off into oblivion.

  Groaning, he surrounded her with his arms, pulling her even closer, feeling an electric shock as he pressed her slender body to his. His fingers tangled in her thick, silky hair, and his lips found hers in urgent demand as he rolled until she lay half under him. Serena’s arms wound up around his neck and her mouth responded instantly, opening to him, inviting his possession.

  He seemed to kiss her forever, as if the touch of her lips satisfied a desperate craving, one hand still tangled in her hair and the other beneath her back. But it wasn’t enough for either of them, and his mouth moved with the same urgent need to plunder the soft skin at her neck.

  Serena flung her head back, gasping because she couldn’t breathe, trembling because she couldn’t move and had to somehow. Her hands gripped his shoulders, then slid downward to mold firm, rippling muscles and explore a straight spine. He was warm and hard and strong, and a liquid heat swirled within her. In a flashing instant the seducer had become the seduced. A frantic necessity filled her aching body as a soft moan tore from her throat.

  She moved beneath him, her spine arching upward, her breasts brushing against the thick hair on his chest. Instantly she felt as though an electric current had raced from him to her, and her breasts were suddenly heavy, stinging.

  He shuddered at her touch, muscles clenching, his fingers beneath her pressing her soft flesh, and a low sound escaped him. Compulsively she arched against him again, shuddering as he did, her fingers digging into his back.

  Serena felt like a puppet, her strings pulled by mindless desire. Never in her life had she so lost control of herself. And she felt the shock of realizing her own abandonment was a release, a heady, dizzying freedom. No thoughts of the future were allowed to intrude; there was only now and this glorious, bold fearlessness.

  She had taken the right step. Nothing that felt like this could ever be wrong.

  “Dear heaven, Rena …” His voice was thick, impeded, his chest moving strongly with every harsh breath. His lips burned a trail down between her breasts and both hands moved to surround the full, aching weight of them. Then his mouth captured a hard, aching nipple, and Serena arched into him again with a broken, breathless cry.

  What she felt then, a terrible, violent need to have him closer than he could ever be, made her understand for the first time how loving could be madness. She was helpless against it, utterly unable to withstand the demands of her body for his.

  If she had known that certain death would follow his possession, she would not have been able to turn away from him, would have gone happily to her end….

  Brian’s hand was sliding over her flesh, tracing her narrow rib cage and tiny waist, smoothing the curve of her hip. She locked her fingers in his hair and held him, eyes closed, all her consciousness focused on his hand, on his mouth tugging at her breast, his hungry, swirling tongue.

  She could feel him tremble against her, feel the urgency of his body as he moved. His hand roamed over her thigh, seeking, and she jerked convulsively with a smothered moan when he found her warmth. Instantly the ache in her grew, hollow and hurting almost unbearably, the boundaries of it expanding until she felt nothing but emptiness and desperate need. A need for something she could not even put into words.

  “Brian …” Her voice was a thread of sound, her plea a mindless, wordless one.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he muttered hoarsely, his head lifting and green eyes glowing with incandescent desire. “So warm …” His fingers explored gently, stroking, and she bit her lip with a gasp at the pleasure his touch evoked. Her hands moved to his shoulders and gripped hard.

  She cradled him instinctively when he moved over her, her eyes fixed on his taut face, her breath coming quickly. She could feel another seeking touch, and then he was kissing her, deep, drugging kisses that stole what little breath she had. She tried to draw him closer, blind instinct guiding her, but Brian resisted.

  “I’ll hurt you.” He groaned, his eyes glazed, voice strained. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Then he groaned again, and his eyes closed briefly in anguish. “Damn, what am I saying? This is only the beginning of the hurt….”

  Words, she somehow knew, would never reassure him. She arched upward, her breasts brushing against him, lips seeking the tense angle of his jaw. Her hands caressed the clenched muscles of his back, her arms drawing him insistently closer. She moved against him, and he shuddered.

  “Rena—”

  She could feel his need, feel his body demanding hers, and her own need made her ruthless. Now was all that mattered, and she didn’t have to pretend. She touched him, stroked his rigid shoulders, her limbs entwining with his, until he groaned, defeated.

  He moved suddenly, powerfully, and the pain caught her by surprise. Her eyes widened, and she cried out at the shock. But even as anxiety knifed through the glaze of passion in his eyes, she had forgotten the pain. Wonderingly she absorbed the alien fullness, the incredible closeness. A primitive possessiveness almost overwhelmed her, and her arms tightened around him.

  Hers. He had made himself hers.

  “Rena?” It was a breath of sound, concerned, unsteady.

  In answer her body surged upward, claiming him as he had claimed her, and Brian groaned again. He moved in a steady rhythm, taking care, she realized, not to hurt her again. But Serena’s body demanded as his did, and neither could control the unleashing of their ravenous need. Her every movement against him, every touch, fueled the fire until only the drive for release controlled them.

  Serena felt a new, impossibly powerful tension invade her body, filling her throat. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, and she was hurting again with a taut inner ache. She thought she’d go mad if the tension didn’t ease, the ache didn’t stop. She wanted to move frantically, to reach for something beyond reach, to hold tight to some anchor in the violence of her own feelings.

  But there was nothing to hold to….

  Then, suddenly, the tension splintered and the ache swelled with a surging power, gripping her body in wild rapture. She felt she had flown without wings, breathed without air, captured a unicorn. And she had never felt closer to another human being. She felt as well as heard Brian’s hoarse cry, and she cradled him tenderly as they both found a joyous peace.

  His body lay heavily on hers, trembling, his breathing harsh. He lifted his head at last, gazing at her with eyes that were still hot, eyes flickering in surprise. Serena felt a stirring within her, a renewal of passion, and instinctively held him with supple inner muscles. Brian made a soft sound deep in his chest, and bent his head to kiss her, gently at first and then with building need.

  His hands caressed slowly, as though he was learning her all over again. His mouth touched and tasted. He held himself still, his restraint evoking a deep and welling passion needing nothing but their closeness to sustain it.

  Th
eir gazes locked together, dark green and smoky gray, in a communication as intimate as that of their bodies. Then suddenly Brian buried his face in her neck with a hoarse sound, and Serena held him hard, a whimper escaping her lips.

  Serena felt bereft when he left her, but she was only alone for an instant. He was still touching her, stroking her body gently, and the aloneness was a fleeting thing. With a fluid motion he slipped from the bed, lifting her into his arms, kissing her. The room was dim, the heavy drapes permitting only faint light to enter, but she could see the tenderness of his expression, and gloried in it.

  Moments later they were in the shower, still without lights, still curiously silent. It was a new intimacy, wordless, a rediscovery of each other’s bodies slippery with soap, and kisses in the steamy heat. There was soft laughter, then the rough caress of towels as they dried each other before Brian carried her again to the bed.

  He left her briefly to go to the door. A soft click told her that he had notified the world not to disturb them, and then he returned. Serena went into his arms, her body languid and warm. She rested her cheek on his hair-roughened chest, smiling as his hands stroked her back, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

  Content, she slept.

  The peal of the telephone was a rude intrusion on Serena’s peaceful dreams, and she reached instantly to stop its demand. In her first waking moment she knew instantly where she was and whom she was with, and she turned her head to gaze dreamily at Brian’s sleeping face. He was on his stomach, one arm holding her waist possessively, and she smiled as she brought the receiver to her ear.

  “Hello?”

  There was a moment of silence and then a dry male voice. “Well, I guessed as much.”

  “Morning, Josh,” she murmured.

  “It’s almost afternoon,” he told her politely.

  “Is it? That’s nice.”

  Josh laughed. “All right, I won’t disturb you. Just take care you two don’t starve to death, okay?”