Come Lie With Me - Linda Howard [62]
“Then don’t wait,” she said softly, her eyes shining. “This is for you.”
He kissed her again, even harder than before. “The next one’s for you,” he promised hoarsely, just before he slid over the edge of control. Dione hugged him to her, accepting his body and his desperate, almost violent movements, cradling him, soothing him, and in a moment the storm had passed and he sagged against her.
She could feel the heavy pounding of his heart as he lay on her in the silent aftermath, feel the heat of his breath on her shoulder, the trickle of sweat that ran from his side and slipped down her ribs. She smoothed his tousled dark hair, adjusted his head more comfortably on her shoulder. He murmured something and his hand came up to cover her breast. She waited, lying there pressed into the bed by his weight, as his body relaxed and he drifted slowly, easily into sleep.
She stared up at the light that still blazed brightly; turning out the light hadn’t occurred to either of them.
Exhaustion made her body heavy, but she couldn’t sleep. The night had been a major turning point in her life, but she didn’t know what direction to take. Or was it such a major turning point? Blake had taught her that she no longer needed to fear the touch of a man, but what difference did it make? If the man weren’t Blake, then she didn’t want him. It was the love that she felt for him that had enabled her to tear down her prison of fear, and without that love she simply wasn’t interested.
Nor, she realized suddenly, could it ever happen again. She couldn’t afford to let it happen. She was a therapist, and Blake was her patient. She’d violated her own professional code, totally forgotten the rules and standards that she’d set for herself. This was the worst mistake she’d ever made and she felt sick with remorse.
Whatever happened, she had to remember that soon she’d be leaving, that she was only a temporary part of Blake’s life. She’d have to be stupid to jeopardize her career for something that she knew was only a moment out of time. I should have seen it coming, she thought tiredly. Of course Blake had been attracted to her; she was the only woman available to him. But she’d been so engrossed in her own misery and attraction that she hadn’t realized that his actions hadn’t been meant merely to tease.
Gently she shifted him to one side, and he was sleeping so deeply that he didn’t flicker an eyelash. With slow, careful movements she sat up and reached for her discarded nightgown, pulling it over her head before she got to her feet. As she stood she winced at the unfamiliar soreness of her body, but forced herself to walk silently to the door and leave, turning out the light as she passed the switch.
In her own room she stared at her bed, but realized that it would be a waste of time to return to it. She’d never be able to sleep. Too many sensations, too many memories, were warring in her mind and body. Her bedside clock told her that it was a little after three; she might as well stay up the rest of the night.
She felt oddly empty, her regret candeling out the bittersweet pleasure she’d found in his embrace and leaving her with nothing. For a short while, in his arms, she’d felt wildly alive, as if all her fetters had fallen away. Reality was something less than that. Reality was knowing that the night meant nothing to him beyond the immediate satisfaction of his sex-starved body. She’d seen it coming from a mile away and still hadn’t had the sense to duck; no, she’d taken the punch full on the jaw.
But mistakes were something to learn from, better textbooks than anything that ever got put into print. She’d picked herself up before and gone on, and she’d do it again. The trick was to remember that there was an end to everything, and the end of her time with Blake was coming at her with the speed of a jet.
She cringed inwardly at the thought, and in agitation walked out to the gallery. The desert air was cold, and she shivered when it touched her heated skin, but she welcomed