A Love for All Time Read online

  “Ravish!” She almost choked on the giggle that bubbled up inside her. “Aren’t you being overly dramatic, m’lord?”

  “You seek to cool my ardor with ridicule, m’lady? You tempt me sorely to teach you some respect for your lord and master.”

  Casey’s eyes danced as she turned her ear into the pillow to escape his tongue. “That tickles!” Their faces were inches apart. His eyes played with hers, glowing devilishly, and his arm curled warmly across her.

  “Would you believe me if I told you that I’ve never been happier than I am at this moment?” he asked with such totally unexpected vulnerability that she answered him immediately, honestly, without pausing to think.

  “Yes. I believe you.”

  “And you?”

  “I’m not exactly . . . sad,” she whispered.

  He moved his face closer until their noses lay side by side and their lips barely touched. She could feel the touch of his lashes against her brows before his lips moved, ever so slightly, against hers when he spoke.

  “That’s a start.”

  Casey lay quietly, knowing she could turn her face away if she wanted to. Nothing else seemed at all important except the feel of his big, hard body against hers, the regular thump of his heartbeat against her upper arm, and this peaceful, relaxed feeling. She felt his smile against her lips.

  “You’re like that soft, golden kitten. I can almost hear you purr,” he said in a husky whisper.

  “I can scratch, too,” she murmured drowsily.

  His hand searched and found hers, and ever so gently he opened her fingers and pressed her palm against his face. Then he rested his forearm between her breasts while his long fingers caressed her neck and cheek. It was such a sweet, simple gesture. It conveyed a deep longing to touch and to be touched. A wave of tenderness for this rough, sometimes overwhelming man flooded Casey’s heart. Her fingers moved in small caresses along his jawline to the dark hair around his ears.

  He moved his head a fraction until their noses were tip to tip and looked at her with a gladness in his eyes that made her pulse leap. Then his mouth tenderly and almost reverently planted a kiss on her lips. The kiss was of a totally loving nature, exacting an unreserved response from Casey. Later she was to look back on that kiss and remember it as the moment when the independent, self-sufficient Casey she had always been ceased to exist. She would from then on feel empty unless she was with him.

  He continued to press soft, tender kisses on her mouth, but he resisted the demanding pressure of her hand on the back of his head to deepen the kisses.

  “This is all we can have for now, sweetheart,” he whispered, and raised his head to gaze down on her reddened lips and shining eyes.

  For a few magical moments Casey completely forgot her fear of personal involvement with this man. She found the feeling of being loved and pampered by him new and exhilarating beyond her wildest fantasies. Closing her eyes against the momentary giddiness, her next sensation was of him rolling away from her and leaving the bed.

  She opened her eyes slowly and saw him looking down at her.

  “I’ll turn off the TV and the lights and lock the door so you don’t have to get up.” He held out his hand and she put hers in it. “Night, Guinevere.”

  “Night, m’lord.”

  He squeezed her hand gently, then switched off the light.

  After he was gone she sighed for his absence, and turned her face into the pillow where his head had lain. The lemony scent of his after-shave still lingered. She was dozing contentedly with the memory of firm, warm lips, laughing dark eyes, and a strong arm holding her, when the sound of a key turning in the lock startled her to full awareness.

  The door opened. “Don’t be afraid. It’s just me,” she heard Dan say softly. He closed the door and slid the bolt in place. “I took the key with me when I left,” he said, coming toward the bed in the darkness. “The bed isn’t made up over there and I’ve no desire to sleep on a bare mattress.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and she heard the thump as his shoes hit the floor.

  There was a tightness across her chest, a fullness in her throat, but she couldn’t utter a word. She lay there, her hands gripping the edge of the robe she still wore, overwhelmed suddenly by the matter-of-fact way he was getting into her bed.

  “Dan ...” She started to get up, but his hand pushed her down.

  “Have you still got on that robe? Take it off, sweetheart, and go to sleep. Oooohhh, I’m tired. I feel like I drove a million miles today.” He lifted the covers and slid in beside her. “Kiss me goodnight . . . again,” he said, his breath warming her lips. His mouth found hers and lingered to kiss it with proprietary ease. “Won’t you be too warm in that robe?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Give me your hand. I didn’t want to leave you anyway. When I saw that bare bed it was a good excuse to come back,” he admitted. He stretched out on his back, their clasped hands lying between them. “If King Arthur is looking down on his favorite knight, my Guinevere, I think he would be proud of me—good night.”

  Six

  When Casey awoke, she was lying on her side, her head on the edge of the bed and her arm hanging over the side. The first thing she saw was Dan’s denim jacket flung over the back of the chair. She wanted to turn over and look at him while he was sleeping. And she also wanted to remain comfortably content and try to solve this dilemma she found herself in. During the night she had wrestled with the question of her own feelings until exhaustion had given her blessed relief. She was still without answers.

  Unfortunately, once awake, she couldn’t stay still. Her back and leg muscles were screaming to be stretched. Ever so slowly she folded the robe snuggly across her breast and began to ease her feet to the floor. At her first tentative move, she felt Dan stir.

  She turned to find him watching her, the slightest smile on his lips and an odd warmth in his dark eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “I’ve been awake for awhile.”

  A shiver of pure physical awareness chased down Casey’s spine. He had slept in his undershorts. The bedcovers hugged his trim waist. Above was a perfectly beautiful torso—wide shoulders with no coarse knots of muscle, just a huge expanse of rippling flesh with a light dusting of black hair on his tanned arms and across his muscular chest. A charmed grin spread over his face causing an instant tightening around her heart. He was a devastatingly virile and attractive man, both physically and mentally and she was blatantly aware of it. It was the first time in her life she had ever experienced such primitive sexual feelings for a man, and she almost groaned aloud—it was the first time she had ever been in love.

  “Are you one of those crazy people who wakes up early and immediately jumps out of bed, Casey?” There was a satisfied expression in his eyes when she jerked hers to meet them.

  “Yes, I guess so. I’m one of those disgusting creatures who goes to bed with the sun and gets up with it.”

  “Good girl!” He lifted his arms over his head and stretched until his joints began to pop. He rested his forearms on the top of his head and gripped his elbows with his hands. He stretched first to one side and then the other while Casey watched fascinated. She had an incredible urge to run her hand freely over his body, to test the firmness of that musculature. A growing tension was building inside her and she pushed herself up into a sitting position and swung her legs off the bed.

  “Give me a towel, honey, and I’ll shower over at the other cabin,” he called just before she closed the bathroom door.

  She chose a towel from the shelf and tossed it through the partially closed door, then banged it shut. She heard him chuckle and imagined the boyish smirk on his face. He knew she was attracted to him. Casey rolled her eyes at her reflection in the mirror and grimaced. Why wouldn’t he accept the fact that they were two people coming from entirely different backgrounds? She had nothing to offer him. She groaned. She wasn’t experienced enough to be a good sex partner. He cou
ld find plenty of women among the groupies that gathered around a well-known athlete to satisfy him physically. So why her? Damn, damn. She had accepted the loneliness of her life and she wasn’t going to be so foolish as to accept a casual affair with him now.

  She stripped and looked at herself in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. She may have been scarred from her knees to her shoulders, but she was strong, resilient, and proud. She’d deal with the consequences of this relationship on a day-today basis, she told herself firmly as she stepped into the shower and turned the water on full blast.

  When she emerged from the bathroom, Dan was coming in the door. He paused and grinned at her, then unfastened his belt and stuffed his knit shirt neatly into the waistband of his Levi’s. His torso showed to advantage in the blue knit pullover with the alligator on the pocket. His head was wet and his cheeks smooth. He was a fast dresser for he had accomplished all of this during the time it had taken her to shower, dress, apply makeup, and stare at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

  Casey was totally unaware of the arresting picture she made. Her jeans hugged her tall, curving figure and the green plaid shirt was perfect with her gold hair and eyes. Dan appraised her admiringly, making her aware of her unrestrained breasts beneath the soft cotton shirt. Her fingers went to the top buttons to reassure herself they were closed. She hadn’t worn a bra since the accident.

  “Are you a dieting woman who merely sips a little coffee for breakfast?” His eyes teased her.

  “Sorry to disappoint you. I favor a hardy breakfast.”

  “Good girl,” he said for the second time that morning. “C’mon. I know a place that serves a fantastic breakfast—ham, baking powder biscuits, and gravy.”

  “Gravy? For breakfast?”

  “C’mon. You’ll like it.”

  “What’s the weather like?”

  “Better take a jacket or a sweater. There’s a stiff breeze blowing this morning.”

  Casey paused to tie the scarf around her head and grab a wrap.

  Dan took the keys and they left the cabin. The car he led her to was, after she had time to think about it, ideally suited to him. It was a big car for a big man. Somehow she couldn’t picture him crawling into a sports car just inches off the ground and folding himself into a bucket seat. The seats in the car were wide and covered with soft cream leather. It was definitely more luxurious than flamboyant.

  “You’ve been here before?” Casey asked when he turned the car out onto the highway and headed south.

  “Many times. I used to dive for abalone around here. My brothers and I would come here several times a year during the season. Ever done any scuba diving?”

  “No. But I always thought I’d like to.” She wanted to ask him more about his brothers, but before she could think of a way to phrase the question, he told her.

  “My brothers have been like two fathers to me since my dad died when I was fourteen. One of them is twelve years older and the other fourteen years older than me. I think I was a happening that my parents didn’t expect.” He turned and grinned at her. “I was spoiled to a certain extent, but they worked the hell out of me, too. The three of us operate the business, but as I’m the only single one I usually have to do the away from home stuff. I’ve a feeling that’s going to come to a screeching halt.”

  Casey quickly passed over the meaning of his words and asked a question to cover her distraction.

  “Do they have children?”

  “Do they have children? I figure Hank’s wife has been pregnant more than five years of the sixteen they’ve been married. They have seven. Fred has only five.”

  “You don’t like kids?” Casey asked with an odd inflection in her voice.

  “Sure. What ever gave you that idea? I want a whole parcel. I’ve already got the house, the dog, and the station wagon.” He shot her a wicked sidelong glance that intimated he expected a response.

  “Well . . . you didn’t sound as if you approved of your brothers’ large families,” she said lamely.

  “I had to grow up by myself. I’d never wish that on another kid.” He wheeled the car into the parking lot of a long low building, shut the motor off, and turned to look at her. “You were an only child. Wouldn’t you rather have had brothers and sisters?”

  “Yes,” she said quietly. “An only child has to bear all the responsibility for a sick mother or an errant father. I would have loved to have had a brother or a sister to share that responsibility.”

  He reached for the hand she had wrapped in the sweater she held in her lap. “I don’t think you’ll need this yet.” He laid the wrap on the back of the seat. “You make me ashamed for complaining about my younger years. At least I had my brothers and then their wives and kids.”

  Casey pulled her hand away and turned to look out the car window. His sympathy made her feel weak and teary.

  “Are we going to eat or not?” She licked her dry lips, regretting she had revealed so much about herself. With nervous fingers she smoothed the hair down over her forehead and lightly touched the scarf to make sure it was over her ears.

  After breakfast they drove into Newport, “parked the car, and walked the length of the business district, peering into shop windows and looking over the assortment of souvenirs. Casey stopped to peer through the door of a small empty shop. She took her hand from Dan’s to cup it around her eyes so she could see inside the empty room. It was paneled with rough wood and the floor was made from wide planks, varnished and waxed. She could easily visualize her shop in such a room as this. Then she looked at the “for sale” sign in the window and knew this place would be out of the question for her.

  “Are you planning on opening a fish and bait shop?” Dan teased.

  “Fish and bait? Ugh!” He had taken her hand again, and she laughed up at him and suddenly decided that, whatever came later for her, she was going to enjoy this day. She felt unable to deny herself the excitement of being with him in this little rustic resort town. The future would have to take care of itself. “I want to open a shop and sell handmade garments.” As they walked slowly down the sidewalk she found herself telling him her ideas for making the clothes during the winter months so she would have an inventory ready for spring. He listened intently.

  “You sew that well? Do you make men’s shirts?”

  “I never have, but I could. I make all my knit pullovers.”

  “I can’t get a shirt that’s wide enough in the shoulders that doesn’t swallow me around the waist, and usually they aren’t long enough to tuck into low-slung jeans.”

  “That wouldn’t be a problem. Take away a little here, add a little there. I’ll use you as a model. Better yet, a walking billboard. I’ll make a shirt and put a sign on the back and you can stand out in front of the shop.”

  He chuckled and she caught the devilish glint in the depths of his eyes. “Like a wooden Indian, huh?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Did you make that shirt?”

  “Uh-huh. The jeans, too.”

  He stopped and turned her around. “You’re kidding!” He ran his hand down over her hips, then tucked his fingers into the hip pocket. “You’ve even got a label, CASEY. I’ve picked myself some woman!” Then, as if talking to himself, he added, “She’s not only beautiful, but independent, witty, talented, and ambitious.”

  Casey’s face froze and the smile left her eyes. Dan sensed immediately he had said something wrong. “What is it? What did I say to take that happy look off your face?”

  “Nothing. Forget it.” She started to walk down the street, her hands deep in the side pockets of her jeans, more conscious of the scar on her face than she had been all morning. At the car she waited for him to unlock the door.

  Without saying a word he started the motor, turned the car into the stream of traffic, and headed up the coast. They had driven only a short way when he turned down a sandy road toward the beach and pulled to a stop. The Pacific Ocean spread out before them.

/>   “I want to know what turned you off.” His hands gripped the wheel and his domineering eyes gleamed through narrowed lids. “I despise insincere flattery,” she said icily. “Insincere? I meant every word I said,” he gritted in an equally intense tone.

  “Liar!” she spat. “I’ve heard my father spout similar lines!”

  “Don’t ever compare me to Edward Farrow! Or to any other man.” Casey could see that he was furious and found herself unable to move as his hands shot out and gripped her shoulders. “I think I know what’s in that head of yours.” His smoldering look was pinning her to the seat. Her hands clenched together tightly in her lap.