Secret Desire. Gwynne Forster

      His laugh had the sound of an angry growl. “I tasted you. I want more, and I’m going to have more, with your full and joyful cooperation. I finish what I start.”

      “You didn’t start it.”

      “That’s because you ran. But you can slow down. I’m through punishing myself.”

      Her fingers rubbed her sides, and she paced back and forth. “Luke, I’ve walked that road and, except for Randy, most of what I got was unhappiness. Before we married, my husband said I was the flower of his life, but as soon as he had to tend that flower, he let it wither to nothing. He promised everything wonderful and delivered ten years of misery. What I want is irrelevant. All I need now is peace for Randy and me.”

      “That was some other man, not this one. You ought to know that if you kiss a man the way you kissed me, he’s going after you unless he’s got dead nerves and two peg legs.”

      She pulled the front bodice of her dress away from her dampened flesh, picked up a magazine that lay on the bed, and fanned rapidly. “Luke, I…You were out there alone with your eyes closed, quiet. In the dark, you seemed so vulnerable, and…helpless. I—”

      “That was in your mind, baby. I heard your footsteps coming toward me and smelled that perfume before you opened the screen door. I knew who was kissing me, and I wanted it. Otherwise, it never would have happened.”

      Abruptly he changed the subject. “I’m going to Africa in a couple of weeks, and I’m concerned about leaving you and Randy here alone, at the mercy of whoever’s pestering you. I’ll work out a plan, and I want you to follow it and see that Randy does.”

      “Luke, I don’t want any more pampering. I’ve had my fill of it.”

      “I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but we’re dealing with real crime here, and a determined criminal. If you’re not going to do as I say, tell me right now and I’ll cancel the trip.”

      “You wouldn’t do that!”

      “It’s my duty. Look…I…Have lunch or dinner with me tomorrow. If you’re busy then, let’s make it breakfast. I want to see you.”

      He moved like a cyclone, and she could see herself getting caught in the whirling cone of his determination. “You put a twenty-four-hour watch on the store, and Officer Cowan patrols the store regularly, so I don’t see what else I need.”

      “We’ll discuss whatever else you need when we’re together tomorrow. Suppose we make a day of it. I’ll be over for breakfast. What time?”

      “Should I have a notebook handy?”

      “For what?”

      “I wouldn’t want to forget what you have to say about what you think I need.”

      “Trust me, sweetheart, I’ll see that you don’t.”

      She knew she should end it right there. He excited her as no man ever had, and she knew she’d find all that she longed for with him, but she had a premonition that getting involved with him could bring her more pain than Nathan Middleton had ever caused her.

      She ignored her inner voice. “By nine o’clock Randy’s starving,” she said, feeling spineless.

      “Then I’ll be there at nine…if it’s all right with you, that is.”

      He had a quality of grace, a gentlemanly demeanor, even when, like now, he was overbearing. But she didn’t care that he’d pushed her a little hard; she wanted to see him every bit as much as he wanted to see her.

      She swallowed, and had to clear her throat. “It’s fine with me.”

      “You sure?”

      “If you’re asking if I’m sorry I caved in, I won’t know the answer until after tomorrow, and maybe not even then.”

      “That’s right—leave no row unhoed. Nothing like a straightforward answer to keep the record clear. We’ll make a day of it?”

      “If Randy doesn’t have a program.”

      “Come off it, woman. What kind of program can Randy have that you didn’t arrange? You don’t need an excuse, Kate. If you don’t want to see me, just say no.”

      She bristled. “How is it that you’re such a genius at vexing me? If I wanted to say no, I would. I never do anything I don’t want to do. We’re that much alike. And you stop trying to bamboozle me. See you in the morning.”

      She could feel the warmth and the enticement of his laughter through the wires, masculine and suggestive—an invitation to madness, a lure that she didn’t want to resist.

      “Way to go. I like your tinsel. With you, a man has to stay on his toes, eat his Wheaties and keep his engine fine-tuned. Till tomorrow.”

      “Tomorrow.” She stared at the phone until the operator told her to hang up. Gone was her bravery of hours earlier, when she’d parted her lips and kissed him. Shivers plowed through her as she let her mind tease her with visions of the ways in which he’d make her pay.

      Luke gazed at the food spread out on Kate’s dining-room table—plenty of everything the Yankees crammed into their stomachs, but not a biscuit in sight.

      “Kate, do you know how to make biscuits?”

      “Of course I do.”

      “And grits and sage sausage and scrambled eggs?”

      “Sure.”

      “Then—”

      “When I start eating that stuff, especially biscuits, I can’t stop, and all of it’s fattening. And don’t tell me I don’t have to start, because I can’t pass up a biscuit. I’ll make some at your place and leave while they’re baking, but not here.”

      Her lashes flew up and a soft gasp escaped her when he pulled her nose and winked at her. “I’ll buy that.”

      “Where’re we going, Captain Luke?” Randy asked when they’d finished breakfast.

      “Wherever your mother wants to go. Hop in the kitchen and help. If she cooks, you help her clean. I’d help, too, but she asked me to repair this table lamp.”

      “You’re always telling me what to do.”

      Luke put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “If you behave the way you’re supposed to, the only words you’ll hear from me will be praise. Now, into the kitchen.”

      Randy dashed toward the kitchen, and he put his attention on the lamp. Not a second alone with her, and how he itched and ached to get his hands on her. Twenty minutes later she reappeared in a red blazer, navy blue miniskirt, and a pair of sandals laced to midcalf. Her hair fell loose and sexily around her shoulders. He crossed his thighs. She had to know what she did to him. He took a pad and pen from his jacket. “What’s the name of that perfume?”

      “Fendi.”

      He wrote it down. “It’s worth whatever it costs. Ready?”

      She nodded. “Could we go look at the boats?”

      “You bet. Ever been to the naval base? It’s the biggest in the country.”

      He loved to see her smile, her face sparkling, and the eyes that reminded him of a lover’s moon in spring. “I haven’t been there yet, but I’d been planning to take Randy.”

      “Can we get on a boat, Captain Luke?”

      It surprised him that Randy took his hand as they boarded The Carrie B, a paddlewheel riverboat, for a harbor tour. He pointed out the gray ladies of the United States Atlantic Fleet—nuclear-powered submarines, destroyers and aircraft carriers, great hulking figures that seemed out of place against the bright modern buildings that graced the shoreline.

      “What’s