Christmas Present Part 10

His hands kneaded her b.u.t.tocks, sending the now-all-too-familiar heat skidding and sliding through her.

"What kept you from it?"

"You. I knew it wasn't what you wanted."

"I very much wanted to be with you like this," she said softly.

"I know. You just didn't want to embarra.s.s your parents any more than you wanted to embarra.s.s those clerks back in town."

She lightly laughed "Those clerks will never know how close they came to being embarra.s.sed."

He pulled her pelvis against his. "Lord, do you have any idea how it makes me feel to hear you say that?

Tomorrow is going to be twice as difficult for me."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again. "We'll find some time to be alone together.

I'll take you up to the Norman keep."

He growled. "Promise?"

"Absolutely."

He swept her up into his arms and carried her to bed.

Once comfortably settled among the pillows, Bria watched with unabashed enjoyment as Kells undressed. "How does a man who does nothing but sit and design computers all day get to have such a great body?"

He grinned as he stripped out of his s.h.i.+rt. "A great body, huh? Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Well, I swim, play handball, and ride whenever I can."

"You have horses on your property in Brisbane?"

"Sure. And I already told you I surf."

"Sounds like you have a busy life." He nodded. "Just as you do in Tucson."

"Yes."

They each had their own worlds, worlds that were far apart and different. But when you got right down

to it, she didn't think their worlds were so different in basic values. "By the way, I believe it's only fair to tell you that Mom and Dad have noticed the attraction between us."

His hands froze on the waistband of his trousers. "Did they give you a bad time about it?"

"No. Why should they? I'm a grown woman. And they both like you very much."

"Do they?"

"Yes. Mom said Dad holds you in high regard."

Kells continued undressing. "I've come to admire your dad too. And it's funny, because I didn't think I would."

"Why not?"

"His reputation."

"If Dad has a bad reputation, it's not deserved."

Her loyalty drew a grin from him. "He doesn't have a bad reputation. But I'm sure it isn't any surprise to

you that because of his wealth and power, he is feared in many quarters." He finished taking off his

clothes, then lay down beside her and felt an immediate contentment and peace he hadn't felt since they had left Tucson. She was beside him once again, his to touch, to kiss, to make love to. At least for now.

Bria turned her head along the pillow to look at him. "You're not afraid of him. As a matter of fact, you bested him."

"It was a good fight, and we both won." He thought for a moment. "I suppose your dad and I are alike in some ways, but we're also very different. He fights from a position of power, and he never has to fight alone."

"Whereas you always fight alone."

He nodded. "I've had to. Besides, there's never been anyone I trusted enough to let him fight by my side."

She lay her hand on his chest, wondering if she heard sadness in his voice or if that was simply her interpretation of his remarks. He continued.

"And where your father inherited an empire and a rich heritage, I didn't inherit anything but The Star, which, some years, is more of a financial liability than an a.s.set."

"You also inherited a philosophy from your grandfather that seems to have held you in good stead."

He rolled onto his side to face her. "That's right. He taught me to go after what I want." He tugged open the satin cloth belt of her robe. "Guess what I want right now."

"You can have it without a fight," she said softly, closing her arms around his neck.

Bria drummed her fingers on her bedroom windowsill. Kells and her dad had been closeted all morning in her dad's study. And waiting for them to finish, she felt exactly as Kells had yesterday, she thought ruefully. Neither polite nor friendly.

At breakfast she had casually mentioned to her parents that she would like to show Kells Killara's twelfth-century Norman keep. She had been grateful when they had agreed that it was a good idea, grateful but not surprised at their understanding.

She stared broodingly out the window. Lord, she had it bad. She was finding that being away from Kells for just a few hours was torture. What was she going to do when he left for good?

The mirror. Her gaze was drawn to her closet door. She didn't know what had made her suddenly remember the mirror. She had thought of it only once in Tucson and not at all since she had returned home. Kells had permeated and pervaded every part of her and her life.

A small smile curved her lips. Wouldn't it be wonderful if the mirror showed her a scene that would rea.s.sure her about her and Kells's future? A scene that might show them standing at an altar, exchanging vows? Perhaps a scene with them surrounded by laughing children, their children?

She knew the blasted thing could be capricious, but still...

She pulled the mirror from the closet. Once she had it propped on a chair, she knelt before it, her heart beating fast with antic.i.p.ation. Several minutes pa.s.sed while she waited, and she began to think the mirror wasn't going to show her anything.

She was about to give up and return it to the closet when suddenly she was looking at another scene, a scene that for an instant her mind refused to accept. But the scene wouldn't go away. It glittered at her from the mirror's s.h.i.+ning surface, its colors vivid, its content a nightmare.

Her dad was lying on the ground, colorless.

lifeless, blood spreading across the front of his s.h.i.+rt. And Kells was standing over him, looking down at him, a gun in his hand.

Dear Lord, Kells was going to kill her father.

The man she loved was going to kill her father!

No. Bria sank back on her heels and put her hands to her head. Her heart was pounding loudly and she could barely think. The awful image she had seen in the mirror remained in her mind. The blood, the blood...

Why would Kells want to kill her father? The business deal the two men had struck was weighted in Kells's favor. But from the first there had been something of an edge in Kells's voice when he spoke of Killara and her dad. And the first time she had seen Kells in the mirror, he had been looking down on Killara with an angry expression on his face. It was the only scene so far that hadn't come true, but from her experience with the mirror, she had to believe the scene would happen in the future, as the one she had just witnessed would.

No. It couldn't be true. She wouldn't let it be true.

But what could she do to stop it? Going to her dad and telling him about what she had seen wouldn't work. He had no basis to believe her, and she had nothing to show him that would corroborate her conclusions. Plus, he would immediately begin to worry about her again. The last thing she needed was her parents clicking into their protective mode and hovering over her, watching her closely for signs that she had snapped. At the moment going crazy was the least of her worries.

Kells. She couldn't, wouldn't, believe he was capable of killing anyone in cold blood. During the time they had spent in Tucson together, she had never detected the slightest thing that would lead her to believe he could be violent. The only violence she had seen had been contained in his need for her, but even that had been controlled. In the fiercest heat of pa.s.sion he had been utterly unselfish and had taken great care with her.

On the other hand, based on her experience with the mirror, she had to believe what she had seen would happen.

Her heart, her mind, her soul, were in agony. She thought she could actually feel tissue inside her tearing and ripping. She loved both her father and Kells, and with everything that was in her she wanted to protect them both. Somehow she had to find a way to do just that.

When she had flown from Killara to Tucson, it had been a halfhearted attempt on her part to stop the lovemaking scene she had witnessed between her and Kells from happening, and she hadn't been successful. She was glad she hadn't.

But this time she would change fate. She had to.

Bria and Kells climbed the stairway that spiraled tightly upward inside one corner of the Norman keep. Since only one person at a time could fit on the stairs, Bria was ahead of Kells.

When Kells stepped into the large, completely round room on the top floor, Bria was placing a match to wood already laid in the stone fireplace.

She straightened. "The walls are six feet thick and hold the heat well."

"I'm not worried about us being cold," he murmured, studying her with narrowed eyes.

"Bria, is something wrong? You seem preoccupied."

"Do I? I'm sorry." She shoved her hands into the pockets of her skirt and gazed at him. He was wearing jeans that clung to the muscles of his calves and thighs and a sweater whose dark blue color was picked up in the depths of his eyes. He looked strong, reliable, and incredibly wonderful, and she wanted nothing more than to run into his arms, have him tell her everything would be all right-and believe him. But some quirk of fate had made it appear he was an enemy, and until she could prove otherwise, she had to put some distance between them. Doing that, however, was going to be difficult. "I do have something on my mind, and I'd like to talk with you about it."

"Okay." He motioned toward a long sofa. "Do you want to sit down?"

She shook her head. "Not yet." She wasn't ready for the repercussions that would come once she had said what she had to say. She wanted a few more minutes of peace before the storm hit and perhaps changed forever everything between them. "Let me show you around. This was Patrick's and my playroom, game room, hideaway-you name it." She pointed toward two toy boxes labeled PATRICK and BRIA, then gestured toward three more toy boxes labeled BURKE, YORK, and RAFE. "Before it was our playroom, it was Dad's and his brothers'."

He came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. "This is a great place for kids. But I also think it's an inspired place for us."

She had thought so too when she had suggested it earlier this morning. She had pictured the two of them making love before the fire while the December winds blew outside. But with one look into the mirror, everything had changed. Nevertheless, she gave herself the luxury of leaning back against him for a moment. "Patrick and I spent long hours up here."

"It must have been nice to have someone your own age to play with."

The almost undetectable thread of wistfulness in his voice touched her heart. His life on The Star must have been a lonely one, especially after the death of his parents. He had said his grandfather hadn't been one to show affection. She ached to shower him with all the love and tenderness that was in her, but never by so much as a word had he indicated he would want her to. And besides, even if he had, the scene in the mirror made it impossible. "One of our favorite games was one our dad taught us, a Delaney version of cowboys and Indians- Delaneys and Indians. Patrick played a Delaney and I played an Indian."

"If I had been guessing, I would have guessed that," he said, his words slightly m.u.f.fled because his mouth was against her hair.

"Why?"

"Because there's a strong streak of something not quite tame in you. I sensed it when we first met, and I benefit from it every time we make love."

Heat swept through her so strongly, she had to close her eyes.

"Your hair always smells so d.a.m.ned good," he whispered. "But then, I haven't found a place on you that doesn't. Do you want to know my favorite place on you?"

She broke free of his arms and circled until she had put a table between them. "Let's go up to the battlements. There's a breathtaking three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the Sulphur Springs Valley and Killara."

He shook his head and a little smile played around his mouth. "It's cold out there, and I can see the only part of Killara I'm interested in right here. You."

She had hoped to give herself a little time, but it was fast running out.

"Come here," he said, his words an erotic command.

The sensual huskiness of his tone nearly had her moving back to him, but she firmly shook her head.