Guarding Raine Part 64

His voice was ragged.

"You don't know what you're asking."

"I think I do,"

She knew exactly what she was asking, and she knew how impossible a dream it was.

Oh, she didn't doubt that he felt something for her, but she wouldn't

want to put a name to it and examine it in the light of day.

Guilt and regret rode the man hard, and tinged every other good thing in his life.

Macauley O'Neill wasn't a forever kind of man.

She knew all of this with her head, but the realization slashed at her heart.

She'd told him once before that her love came with no strings, and

she'd meant it.

She hated putting this look on his face.

Right now he resembled a man caught between two equally torturous

choices, and she hurt for him.

Perhaps he had been partially right.

Though she knew there was no way to s.h.i.+eld him from old demons, she

couldn't deny wanting to.

Yes, if it was at all possible, she'd want~ to protect him in any way she could.

It was this emotion that drove her to walk into his arms and reach up

on her tiptoes to place a soft kiss on his mouth.

His eyes slid shut, and his arms closed around her immediately, crus.h.i.+ng her to him.

She pulled his s.h.i.+rt loose from h~'s jeans and slid her palms up his

chest, needing suddenly to touch him.

"Raine."

His voice sounded choked.

"No,"

she whispered.

"No more words. Just us, Macauley."

He caught her mouth with a deep, wild kiss that was tinged with

desperation.

Inside him a clock was ticking away each minute he had left to spend

with her.

She was too d.a.m.n generous for her own good, offering herself and allowing him to give back only as much as he dared.

When she pulled slightly away, her eyes were slumberous with desire.

Knowing that he'd put that look there had the blood pooling behind his belt.

She took his hand in hers and led him to the stairway.

He paused at its foot for a moment, trying to remember just why this

was so incredibly unfair to her.

Then she walked ahead of him, her slim hips swaying, enticing him to forget all but her.

She represented everything he never thought he'd have and had a.s.sumed

he didn't want.

Raine was pure and sweet, with a hidden, unexpected depth to her that caught a man unaware.

Her curious blend of strength and vulnerability brought out his most

primitively protective instincts, as well as his admiration.

She was as far removed from the women he'd known as it was possible to be.

And something about her had ~a hold on him he couldn't shake.

Didn't went to shake.

Booted feet deliberate on the treads, he followed her up the stairs.

The next day Andre called, and Raine told him of her plans for

delivering the pictures.

He made his displeasure about the change obvious, but faced with her insistence, he grudgingly agreed.

They arranged to meet at the gallery later in the day.

Hours later, Mac and a gallery employee were busy unloading the van.

Raine carefully removed the paintings from their protective cases and

leaned them against the wall to await hanging.

"What in heaven's name were you thinking of?"

Raine's head jerked up, startled by Andr~'s outraged voice.

She hadn't seen him enter the gallery.

He took her by the arm and fairly dragged her to the other side of the

room, stopping in front of the painting of Macauley.

Pointing at it with a shaking finger, he demanded, "Whatever possessed

you to deviate from your usual style? Not to mention the subjectmatter, which is completely unsuitable."She tried to calm him down with humor."Unsuitable? Somehow I don't think that will be the adjective you'll hear used to describe this picture."

"Well, it won't do, Raine,"

he said querulously, "I simply won't have it. I'll send you back home

in my van and you can select another painting to take its place. Surelyyou have an earlier work that would be appropriate. And we'll send that back with you."

Her good humor vanished abruptly.

"No, Andre, we won't. I paint what feel, when I feel it. That's the

quality that brings a painting alive. Haven't you told me, on manyoccasions, that one can't dictate inspiration?"He became placating."Of course, I've said that. But I thought you understood that this show was of particular importance. People expect a certain style from you. If you want to remain marketable, you have to be true to theelement in your pictures that makes them popular."

She shrugged.