The silence was palpable. The two people on the bed were as immovable as statues. Finally, Seth spoke barely above a whisper. “You want the impossible, Kathleen. You know that. Why are you tormenting me?”
“I don’t intend to torment you. I want to love you and have you love me.”
“Here,” he pointed to his temple, “I want to more than I want to live tomorrow. But you know that I can’t. If I were able to, do you think I would have abstained for two years?” he asked incredulously.
“Seth,” she said urgently before she lost her nerve, “I know that we can’t be conventional lovers. That we can’t… you know… There are other ways that I could please you and you me.”
“Kathleen—”
She stood up abruptly and whisked the nightgown over her head until she stood before him naked in the soft light. He sucked in his breath sharply, and she saw his fists clench tightly at his sides. “Kathleen,” he breathed.
She sat down beside him again and lifted one of his hands, pressing it to her breast. For long moments, he stared up into her face, wondering if she were indeed a haunting dream. Would he wake up again, discovering, as always, that he could only feel those stirrings in his sleep, but never again in his life? Then his eyes dropped to his hand and her soft breast. He stared at it in awe, not trusting himself to believe that he was actually caressing Kathleen’s flesh.
His other hand covered her breast. She leaned over him and kissed him again. This time, Seth’s response wasn’t as long in coming. His mouth took hers greedily and savored the taste of her. His hands moved, caressingly, lovingly.
Kathleen welcomed his touch and encouraged it as she lay across his chest and made herself accessible to whatever exploration he desired. His hands roamed over her back, around her rib cage and down her stomach. The softness of her belly knew his tender search. Then he dipped lower and touched the hidden femininity he had denied himself even to think about.
“Oh, my God,” he ground out as he clasped her to him tightly. Then, just as suddenly, she was released. In alarm, she sat up. Seth’s head was pressed back into the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut, his teeth bared in a terrible grimace of pain more agonizing than any he had felt since the fatal night of his accident.
“Seth?” The panic in her voice caused him to open his eyes.
“Kathleen,” he gasped. “I’m sorry, but don’t ask this of me. Please.”
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed.
“No, dear heart, I’m sorry.” He pulled her down to his chest again, but it was in comfort, not passion. “Kathleen, before my accident, I was quite a good lover, I think. At least, several ladies thought so.” She could hear the humor in his voice. “I know what I could do for you. I could bring you temporary relief from the desire you’re feeling, but I couldn’t ever give you what you would ultimately want. And I could never stand to deny you anything. Do you understand? Please don’t ask me to bastardize the way a man and a woman should love.”
“Seth,” she mumbled into his chest, and wept. Her tears manifested her deepest despair. She had been wrong to use Seth this way. It was unkind and unfair. He was no witch doctor. He was no magician, and if he were the most powerful exorcist, he couldn’t have rid her of Erik. She had known that the moment Seth touched her. Her body still belonged to Erik. It hadn’t responded to Seth’s gentle touch, and that was a profound grief to her. She owed this man so much.
“Seth, I’m so ashamed. I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know, my love. My dearest love.”
“We love on a higher plane than others,” she said.
His rueful laugh tickled her ear, which was pressed against his chest. “I’m not sure of that. If I could give you a strong, healthy body, I would gladly trade this high plane of love for one more base. But no one could love you more than I, Kathleen.”
“I know.”
Seth held her for as long as she stayed with him. She cr
ied softly into the curve of his neck. Her murmurings were often incoherent and random. She never knew when she sleepily whispered another’s name. But Seth heard it. The shattered expression on his face reflected the heartache he felt inside. For himself and for his beloved.
Chapter Eighteen
Kathleen sat under the thatch-roofed table in a relaxed position and wished she felt as calm on the inside as she looked on the outside. They were taking a break. Everyone in the crew was lounging around the patio at Harry’s Bar, which overlooked the Atlantic. Kathleen was covertly watching Erik and Tamara, who had separated themselves from the others and walked down to the rocky beach alone.
Harry’s wasn’t quite as famous as the Harry’s Bar in Venice, but to tourists from the United States it was well known on Grand Bahama Island as a place to buy an American hamburger. Located midway between West End and Freeport, it was a good stopover for a cool tropical drink, beer, or a full lunch or dinner.
One of the lighting crew brought Kathleen a paper cup of goombay punch. She sipped it tentatively. It was fruity and cool, but she knew too many glasses could hit one like a sledge hammer. It was the most dangerous of alcoholic drinks, for there was no alcohol taste.
The drink didn’t extinguish the fire that had been smoldering and simmering inside Kathleen for the past few days. Every time she saw Erik and Tamara together, she boiled with jealous anger. The blonde couldn’t keep her hands off him. When he was giving directions to her or any of the other models, she chose to drape herself over him like a vine rather than standing straight and listening as he talked to them in a brisk, professional tone.
He wasn’t immune to her attention, though. He was flirtatious with all the models, getting them to do exactly as he asked. Erik’s patience with them knew no bounds. But his flirting with Tamara had taken on the attitude of blatant invitation. Each look, each touch that passed between the two of them was rife with innuendo. They are probably sleeping together already, Kathleen thought bitterly as she heard Tamara’s pealing laughter coming from the direction of the beach. When she couldn’t resist looking toward them, she saw the model perched on a high rock. Erik’s strong, lean arms were reaching up to lift her down.
Kathleen turned her head away to hide the tears that flooded her eyes. She must get over this. She had no justification for being jealous. She was married and Erik had made it eminently clear how he felt about her. There was no future for them and never had been. He didn’t love her.
But she loved him. That was why she was jealous. She couldn’t stand to see anyone else touching the body she felt belonged to her. She wanted no one else to know the caress of his eyes or the persuasion of his mouth.