The Baron Page 12

  “No offense to your decorator.”

  “Now, how did you know I had a decorator?” he said, teasing.

  “There isn’t one inch of the Nick I’ve come to know in this room.”

  “Not one inch?” He took her hand and rubbed it across his lap.

  Halley coughed. “Well, perhaps that needs to be amended.”

  “To …?”

  He held her hand tightly against his thigh, and Halley could feel the hard, hot skin beneath his pants. “To six or so feet of the Nick I know. The rest of the room belongs to a stranger.” Halley looked sideways at his wonderful profile and left her hand exactly where he had put it. In just a few minutes they would be finished talking about the decorating scheme of his apartment, and then there would be nothing left except what was flooding both their consciousnesses. This lavish space now held a man and a woman who were only aware of each other. Nothing else existed anymore.

  “Well, I guess that’s enough decorating talk,” Nick said huskily.

  “I think so.”

  He swallowed hard. “Halley, you might not know me as well as— ”

  She leaned her head sideways until she looked directly into his eyes. They were smoky black, and deeper than the blackness of the sky beyond the window. They were compelling and filled with desire. “Nick, I know that. I suspect there are huge chunks of your life that I don’t know anything about, and that scares me sometimes, but what I do know is quite wonderful. I don’t know how you landed in my life, or why, but with you I feel a whole new kind of happiness—”

  Nick could barely speak. Every nerve in his body was fighting to explode. It wasn’t just desire, although heaven knew that was shaking him to the core, but it was feeling, honest-to-God caring about this woman who was turning his life upside down. He didn’t just want sex with her, he wanted to love her in every way possible.

  “Halley, I want to make love to you.”

  “I told you I wasn’t looking for a getaway.”

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this.” His fingers dug up beneath the loose thickness of her hair. “I want you so desperately that I can hardly control myself, but I want you to want me too.”

  Halley fought the huge, welling rush of emotion inside her. She thought she would choke or drown if it reached the surface. Finally, from somewhere in the back of her throat, a voice whispered, “Nick, I want us to make love as much as you do.”

  Nine

  The light was out in the bedroom, and neither of them made any move to turn it on. Halley could see everything she could possibly want to see.

  Moonlight collected in a fine pool on the wide brass bed, and the rest of the room was in shadow. Nick led her through it, one arm draped around her waist.

  Classical guitar music played softly in the background, although Halley didn’t remember hearing it in the other room. Suddenly she felt different, each sense alerted, awakened to everything around her: the muted light of the moon resting in lazy patterns across the bed; the sweet, musky smell of the man beside her; the whistling rustle of a breeze through an open crack in a nearby window. At the edge of the high bed, Nick stopped and stepped away from her slightly, turning her until she was lit with soft moon glow.

  “I want to look at you for a moment,” he whispered, his hands slipping down her bare arms. “You’re so very, very beautiful, Halley.”

  Halley’s heart lurched. Nick’s eyes were filled not only with desire, but also with a tenderness that touched her profoundly, and she couldn’t speak.

  When she reached up to touch his face, he took her fingers instead and held them to his lips, kissing each one separately, then pressing them to his mouth. She was a gift, a wonderful goddess who was sent to him, and he wanted to savor every single moment with her. He wanted to know every tiny inch of her, every desire. But most of all, he wanted to please her immensely.

  “Nick,” she said in a low tone, a small smile lifting her lips and dimpling one cheek, “why do you suppose we’re whispering?”

  He laughed into the palm of her hand, and it sent tantalizing tickles down her arm. “I don’t know. I know we’re not in church. Maybe it’s because I’m standing here touching the most sensual librarian in the world.” He let her hand drop to her side and rested his palms on her shoulders, warming them on the velvety softness of her skin. “There’s something forbidden about that.”

  “Being sensual? Or touching a librarian?” Her arms circled his waist, and she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of his pants.

  Nick lifted one hand up into her hair, and the locks slipped like silken threads through his fingers. “Hmm, I’m not sure. Certainly librarians aren’t forbidden.” He kissed the tip of her ear. “Nor things sensual—as a concept, anyway.” While he dropped tiny kisses along the side of her neck, his hands slowly circled Halley’s back. “But sensual librarians, I think that’s the key here.”

  Halley’s head fell back beneath the stirring vibrations caused by his knees. “I think sensual is something you are only with another who makes you that way.”

  “Is that so?” Nick slowly unbuttoned the back of her dress.

  Halley could only manage a nod.

  With sure movements he gently pushed the dress off her shoulders and down the smooth curve of her hips, letting it fall in a green puddle at her feet. He stood perfectly still, memorizing the way she looked at that moment, so fresh, so unassuming, so lovely. She was all silk and cream, the lacy camisole and panties melting into the supple smoothness of her skin. Hungrily he loved her with his eyes.

  Sensual, Halley thought dreamily, Whatever the feeling was, it was attacking her in rippling waves between her legs and spreading like a forest fire along her skin! She moistened her lips and looked up at Nick’s handsome face. “And you, my dashing Baron, you definitely know how to make me feel sensual.”

  Nick’s husky laugh fueled her desire, and bravely she spread her fingers beneath his waistband, relishing the lovely feel of his bare skin. “You may be releasing a demon in me, who knows?” she said teasingly.

  “I could become addicted to demons.…” His hands spread wide and traveled up and down her sides, exploring each small hill of her ribs, then the luscious curve of her hips. His fingers played on her thighs, burning wavy patterns into the firm skin. “Oh, Halley, Halley,” he said, then groaned, his hands suddenly leaving her body and tugging at his shirt.

  Halley helped him, her nimble fingers plucking buttons out of holes and pushing the crisp white material off his torso. The whole time, her eyes caressed his face and recorded the warmth and desire that poured from the deepest part of his eyes. “I’ve always thought the name Halley was rather plain, like calico,” she murmured into the heated air between them. “But you say it so magically, it makes me think of satin and silk instead.”

  “Believe me, you’re satin and silk—” His fingers toyed with the lacy edge of the camisole only a second before he slipped the tiny straps down over her shoulders. Her breasts spilled free and glistened, high and round and lovely in the hazy light of the moon.

  His sharp intake of breath stirred Halley, and she felt the quiver of desire swell within her.

  Slowly Nick took one breast in the broad palm of his hand, pushing upward against the curve as gently as the touch of an angel’s wing. His thumb circled the darkened center, and he felt it harden beneath his touch. Tiny ripples of excitement pushed outward from her skin and set fire to his fingers.

  “My Contessa with the magic freckles,” he murmured, then bent his head to taste the golden flecks scattered across her skin.

  “No one … no one has ever kissed my freckles before,” she said with difficulty.

  “Good. Now they are mine alone to cherish.” His tongue made slow, easy movements on her flesh, and Halley felt her limbs weaken.

  “Nick … I’m going to fold up … right here …”

  With a sure sweep, one arm curving beneath her buttocks and the other cradling her back, he lifted her and laid her carefull
y on his bed. She was as light as a feather in his arms, a wisp of a woman who was filling him with an almost painful kind of joy.

  “Better, my love?”

  She nodded. Everything was better. It was the best, the floating, free feeling, the sure feeling that Nicholas Harrington III was about to make love to her … and the overwhelming desire that she wanted him to, every bit as much as he did.

  “Nick, my wonderful Baron.” She lifted her palms and placed them flat against his bare chest. It was broad and shadowed with thick, dark hair that felt rough beneath her touch. Halley twisted her fingers into it, then rubbed back and forth across the springy curls, delighting in the heartbeat that pounded beneath her touch.

  Her eyes lifted to his. The smoky desire that met her look seeped into her, and she knew the fires that they’d left smoldering for so many days were not going to be put out this time.

  In seconds Nick had stripped off his pants and the rest of Halley’s clothing and was stretched out beside her on the wide bed, his weight on his hip and elbow as he gazed down into her eyes and stroked her hair lovingly.

  Halley watched him as his gaze traveled over her, across her breasts, then slowly down her body, all the way to her feet, and then back up again. Everywhere his eyes paused, a resting fire stormed to life beneath her skin, until she felt her whole body bathed in thick, sweet flames.

  “How … how lonely it must be for you in this huge bed.” She touched one finger to his face and slowly traced across the strong cheekbone, curling one knee toward him.

  Nick nodded slowly. He never knew how lonely it was until now, and he wondered vaguely if he’d ever find sleep in it again without this magical dream of a woman beside him. “Sometimes. But not anymore. You’ve done something to me, my little Irish temptress, made me feel something again.” Her hair was spread out on the pillow like a peacock’s tail, and he scooped up a handful of it and pressed it to his cheek. I don’t want that feeling ever to go away.”

  “I’m feeling a few things myself,” she answered, her finger running across his lips and his jawline, then down the taut cords in his neck. “I can’t seem to keep my hands off you, Nick.” Her palm moved lower and began rubbing lazy circles across the naked skin of his stomach. She felt no awkward newness with him, no jitters, no embarrassment, and the thought brought a tender smile to her lips. It was as if she had known him before and they had found each other again. “Maybe we were together, my Baron, some other time.”

  “In some other life, maybe? Who knows?” He kissed her hair and ran his fingers down the column of her neck. “How well do you suppose we knew each other then?” His hand cupped her breast and began to massage it gently to the rhythm of his words. “This well?”

  The amazing pleasure of his hands on her skin rose up inside her, and she quivered.

  “You’re like a lovely bird—unafraid, soft, and fluttering.” Her response to his touch filled him with an incredible warmth, and Nick moved from one breast to the other, rubbing, squeezing gently, pressing her nipples between the pads of his thumb and finger until they grew hard and firm. He could feel her blossoming, opening up, and his hand slipped lower, sliding across her stomach, then her abdomen, in slow, easy movements.

  Halley closed her eyes and gave in to the wonder of his touch. When his fingers slipped down to her thighs and played their magic back and forth, she felt such an explosive welling up of love that she bit her bottom lip until it nearly bled. “Nick,” she said with a gasp. “Oh, Nick, you are turning me into a mass of jelly.”

  “The loveliest I’ve ever tasted,” he said as he dipped his dark head and began a dance with his tongue on the rise of her breasts.

  Halley drew her arms around his neck and dug her fingers into his thick hair.

  “I want to know every inch of you, Halley—” His head bent again, and his tongue found one of the hard nipples waiting for his kisses. He circled it slowly with his tongue, licking and sucking and loving the taste of her, unable to get enough. Was it possible to get enough? He couldn’t imagine ever not wanting Halley with the utter intensity that filled him at that precise moment. It was a life-giving intensity, and without it he felt he would surely die.

  His breath was hot on her breast when he spoke. “Halley, I’ve needed you for so long, and I never even knew it.…” He lifted one of her hands and held it flat against his chest, then slowly lowered it down the hard span of his body.

  “No, let me,” she whispered, and continued the journey with her hand.

  Nick groaned at the lightness of her touch, heavenly caresses that nearly drove him wild. “Oh, Halley, you do know how to bring out the beast in me.”

  She leaned toward him, pushing her breasts into the wall of his chest, all the while her fingers gently squeezing him to the brink of ecstasy. “The beastly Baron is a very gentle soul beneath it all. A kitten, that’s what.”

  “Only with you,” he growled, the meaning of his words no longer important. Every word, every letter, was a love sound, and it all meant the same. His arms went around her then, and he lowered her back against the pillows. When he leaned over, his face just above hers, his eyes were filled with such startling intensity, Halley could barely speak.

  “Nick,” she said raggedly. “Nick, I—”

  “Shh.” His lips came down in a crushing kiss that took her breath away. His tongue plummeted deep into the velvety cave of her mouth and flooded all the tiny spots inside her. He stroked the inside of her mouth, loving her, wanting her, until it stopped his breath completely and he had to pull away for air. “Halley,” he murmured into the thick, hot space between them.

  Halley’s fingers were tunneled into his hair, and her eyes were open wide, watching every etched line in his face, every movement of his jaw. “Yes, Nick. I want you.” She spoke so softly, he almost didn’t hear her, but he read her lips, and his words blended with hers so that neither was sure who spoke. It didn’t matter.

  Then, with a desperation he could no longer control, Nick eased himself on top of her. Parting her thighs, he positioned himself between them and, with what little restraint he could muster, slipped gently into her.

  The arching of her back was instinctive, a welcoming movement that forced him deeper inside her.

  “Oh, Nick, I want you so.” Her arms wound around him tightly, her hips pressing into him. She couldn’t seem to get close enough. She wanted to be totally one, meshed so completely together that this searing joy would never leave her.

  Her eyes closed as the room began to fade, and all that was left were she and Nick, wound together and transported on tiny pads of air toward golden shafts of light somewhere in the distance.

  She felt him moving inside her, smooth and hard and warm, and felt her body tighten around him. Then the floodgates of pleasure tore open, and she clutched at his back as they soared off into the sky. His deep growl of total joy reached out for her. She answered, and then they slowly tumbled back to earth, wrapped together in a primal, rocking peace.

  Halley walked quietly out of the bedroom with Nick’s thick robe wrapped around her. It touched the ground and was large and cumbersome around her waist. When she rubbed her cheek against the wide collar, she could smell Nick in the velvety fabric. It smelled wonderful.

  A small smile on her face, she headed for the kitchen. She hadn’t seen one the night before but assumed that even Nick Harrington’s apartment would have a kitchen, and she found it beyond the spacious, perfect living room.

  She walked through a splash of yellow sunshine on the polished tiled floor and stopped short. How could she be so calm and normal? She, Halley Finnegan, had just spent the night with Nick Harrington. No, not the night. She had just spent one of the loveliest nights of her life with Nick Harrington. No, she had just made love with Nick Harrington. Several times, in fact. Several wonderful, lovely, tender times.

  What had awakened her an hour ago as the sun began to creep up the eastern sky was the awareness that she had not only made love with Nick Harr
ington but loved him as well.

  And that was a whole new kettle of fish, as Joe Finnegan would say.

  Halley walked over to the cupboard and rummaged around until she found a tea bag, neatly stashed in a labeled canister.

  Of all the unlikely men to fall in love with, Nick won first prize.

  In love with … Halley pondered the words as she filled a teakettle she found beneath the shiny stove and put it on to boil. What exactly did that mean, anyway? She’d never tried to analyze it before. She walked over to the window, waiting for the kettle to whistle. Outside, the day was just beginning. A beginning … Maybe that’s what all this was about. She felt new and reborn, and all those things you read about and saw in the movies.

  It had crept up on her, this feeling. Each time she was with Nick, it was fueled, and when she slept, her dreams had nourished it even more. And now … and now she had loved him completely. Yet deep down, she knew she was only beginning to know Nick. He was so many different people, and there might be more she didn’t know about yet. But all her mind could attend to for any length of time was the fact that Nick had somehow become an integral part of her.

  Halley answered the call of the kettle and poured the water into a mug. She sipped her tea thoughtfully, then padded her way back through the living room. She looked at the room once more in the clean light of day, but it was the same: elegant, tasteful, expensive, and cold, without any personal trace of the man who was filling her with such joy. There were no pictures, no books with curled pages, no slippers peeking out from beneath a chair or sofa.

  She pulled the robe more tightly around her and hurried into the cavernous bedroom. Curling up in a chair beside the bed, she cradled the warm mug in her hands. Tiny shafts of sunlight spilled across Nick’s face as he slept, and she watched the shadows playing with the angles and bones of his face. His mouth moved every now and then, sometimes lifting in the beginnings of a smile; sometimes parting slightly, then closing again. Halley watched, fascinated. There was enough right there in his face, she decided with a small smile, to absorb her attention for a lifetime.