Authors: Kay Hooper
Elusive Dawn
Books by Kay Hooper
Elusive Dawn (09-1993)
The party had been going on for nearly an hour, and Robyn was numb from the music and laughter. Vaguely, she wondered where Kris was, and wondered again why she had allowed her cousin to talk her into coming. She had never been very good at parties anyway, and the past year had quite effectively destroyed her ability to laugh.
She was looking around, trying to find her cousin, when a face across the room suddenly caught her attention. It was a hard face in many ways, the planes and angles of it strong and proud, the features roughly hewn and magnetically attractive. And there was something familiar about that face... something hauntingly familiar.
The man looked up and saw her just then, his eyes first widening and then narrowing as they took in her slender figure poised as if for flight. Without
so
much as a word to the other man at his side, he crossed the room in a few long strides, halting before her to stare down into her dazed eyes.
"Hello," he
murmured,
a peculiar huskiness in his deep voice.
Robyn stared up at him, only dimly realizing that he was taller than she had first supposed, topping her by a head in spite of her high heels. "Hello," she whispered, barely conscious of the people and noise now, feeling that she was drowning in the darkening green pools of his eyes.
"Dance with me."
It wasn't a request, and Robyn didn't even question her own desire to be in this man's arms. The music had changed to a slow, sensuous beat, and she felt it entering her body, keeping pace with her heart and the blood rushing through her veins as he led her out onto the cleared space reserved for dancing. With no attempt to be coy, she drifted into his arms naturally, eagerly, feeling his hands at her waist, his breath stirring the hair piled loosely on top of her head. Their steps matched perfectly.
"You're a little thing," he murmured, his large hands easily spanning her waist. "I could almost put you in my pocket and steal you away from whoever brought you tonight." His voice was still husky, low, and intimate.
Silently, dreamily, Robyn allowed her body to mold itself
pliantly
to his, her hands moving naturally to his shoulders. Her trembling fingers began to stroke the dark hair on the nape of his neck. She was aware of his hands moving slowly over her back, which was left bare by her shimmering aqua dress. She rested her forehead against his crisp white shirt, feeling a pulse pounding and not sure whether it was hers or his.
"You're not real!" he breathed suddenly, pulling her lower body against him fiercely. Their steps were so slow they were very nearly dancing in place. "I dreamed you. I've always dreamed you."
She wished vaguely that he wouldn't talk, would leave her alone to live in her own dream. She felt so safe, so content in a world where pain and tragedy were unheard of.
"Tell me your name," he commanded softly, and when she didn't respond, one of his hands slid down her arm to the delicate silver identification bracelet on her slender wrist, his thumb toying with the tiny charms and then brushing across the name engraved in flowing script. "Robyn?"
She lifted her head at last, nodding slightly as her eyes met his. The music had changed again to a faster beat, but they continued to dance slowly, completely wrapped up in each other and totally oblivious to anything else.
"Robyn," he murmured, the deep voice turning her name into a caress. "It suits you-something small and fragile." He brushed his lips across her forehead and added, "My name's Shane."
Robyn pushed the information aside. It didn't belong in her dream. But his desire did. She could feel his urgency in the tightening muscles of his strong body, could feel the need he made no effort to hide, and it matched her own need. There was an ache in her body which, she somehow knew, could only be assuaged by this man's touch.
She would lose herself in the dream. For this one night, she would forget everything that had gone before.
She looked up at him through long, thick lashes, and her lips parted in instant response as he bent his head to kiss her. She held nothing back, made no attempt to insist on the slow building of passion that was an ages-old rule in the mating game. She felt his lips moving on hers, at first gentle and then demanding.
He made a soft but rough sound deep in his throat, his eyes gleaming with the hard shine of raw emeralds as he drew back far enough to gaze down at her. "Let's get out of here," he muttered hoarsely. "I want to do more than just hold you in my arms."
Robyn followed as he led her from the room, barely noticing the startled faces of the other guests. She had forgotten her cousin, her eyes fixed intently on the man whose hand she held tightly.
He turned in the entrance hall of the apartment, looking down at her almost impatiently. "Did you have a wrap?"
"No," she murmured. "But my purse..." She left him standing there while she went into a small room off me hall and located her handbag. Stepping back into the hall, she suddenly heard her cousin's worried voice.
"Robyn?"
She half pivoted, staring toward the doorway of the den where her cousin stood. Kris's eyes were concerned, a faintly shocked expression gripping her Florida-golden features.
For a moment, a tiny split second, the dream cracked and allowed reality to seep in. But Robyn knew just how brutal reality could be, and she preferred her dream. Waving good-bye and turning her back on her worried cousin, she walked steadily across the hall and put her hand with absolute trust into Shane's.
His eyes flared oddly, and he made another one of those strange, rough sounds under his breath, carrying her hand to his lips briefly before leading her from the apartment.
He put his arm around her in the elevator, holding her close to his side, and Robyn cuddled up to him like a sleepy kitten. She felt safe, at home; nothing else mattered. She only dimly noticed the luxury of the black Porsche he tucked her into a few moments later.
The Miami night was hot, still, almost waiting, just as she waited for them to reach their destination. She half turned on the seat, watching Shane's profile, bemused and bewildered by the strength of her own need. She didn't remember that; it wasn't part of the dream. But then, it had been so long.
He handled the powerful car easily as they crossed the bay into Miami Beach, weaving it among the late-night traffic common in this tourist city of hotels and night spots. At last the car drew to a stop in front of one of the more luxurious hotels, and he got out and came around to open her door even before the doorman could reach them. Again, Robyn put her hand in his with complete trust and assurance, silently following him into the building.
Five minutes later he was closing the door of the penthouse suite, leaning back against it and watching as she wandered into the sunken living room. She looked at the ultra-modern furnishings, the abstracts on the walls,
the
ocean view from a row of floor-to-ceiling windows. None of it really registered. Only the man did.
She turned to look at him. What was he waiting for? Did he think she expected the ritual drink, casual
conversation.
That would be a waste of precious time; they had only tonight. With simple directness, she asked, "Do you want me?"
He slowly pushed himself away from the door, walking toward her as if in a daze, the emerald eyes glowing. "Oh, yes," he breathed, halting before her. "I want you very much."
Robyn dropped her purse onto a chair and stepped closer to him, her arms slipping up around his neck. "Then what are you waiting for?" she asked softly.
He caught his breath sharply, bending to swing her into his arms and striding down the short, carpeted hallway to the bedroom. The room was lit only by moonlight when he carried her in, but after setting her gently on her feet, he reached to turn on a lamp on the night table, casting a soft glow over them and the huge bed.
"Do you mind?" he asked huskily. "I want to look at you."
"No," she murmured, surprising
herself
by adding honestly, "I want to look at you, too."
His eyes darkened to a mysterious shade that Robyn found completely fascinating, and she could only gaze into those pools, lose
herself
in them, as his head bent slowly toward her.
His lips touched hers lightly, teasingly, feathering gentle kisses from one corner of her mouth to the other. His hands were expertly unfastening the clasp of her dress, sliding the zipper down. The dress slid to the floor with a mere whisper of sound, and Robyn stood before him clad only in the skimpiest of bras and delicate white panties.
The strange rumble came again from the depths of his chest, and she tried vaguely to identify it as she stared up into his brilliant eyes. The sound reminded her of something, but what? And then she had it: the curious sound was very like the throaty, rumbling purr of a contented lion.
"Undress me," he whispered hoarsely, guiding her hands to the buttons of his shirt. He shrugged from the casual jacket as she willingly complied with the request, her slender fingers moving nimbly from one button to another, her eyes still fixed with almost painful intensity on his face. She pushed the shirt from his broad, tanned shoulders, her fingers lingering for a moment to explore the corded strength of his neck and then sliding slowly down the hair-roughened chest to find the belt riding low on his hips. With unconscious familiarity, she unfastened the belt and then the zipper, pushing the pants down over his narrow hips.
Obviously losing patience with the time-consuming task, he groaned softly and brushed her hands aside, rapidly removing the remainder of his garments. Robyn watched
unself
-consciously, stepping out of her high-heeled sandals and kicking them aside.
She was astonished at the beauty of his lean body, oddly moved by the tremor of his hands and the naked longing in his eyes. He looked at her the way a starving man might gaze at a feast, she mused to herself, and she was dimly troubled by that. But then he reached out for her again, and she forgot the disturbing image.
His large hands smoothed away her delicate
underthings
with gentle roughness until at last she stood as nude as he. With a strange catch in his voice, he groaned, "God, but you're beautiful!" One hand rose to cup a small, full breast, his thumb teasing until a nipple rose to taut awareness.
Robyn gasped, her arms sliding up around his neck and her fingers thrusting fiercely into his thick black hair. She needed him so desperately. She rose on tiptoe to fit herself more firmly against the hard length of him. He crushed her to him for a moment, then swept her up and placed her gently on the bed, apparently too impatient to strip away the plush velvet spread.
Robyn didn't mind; she scarcely even noticed. She held out her arms to him as he lowered his weight beside her, and the green eyes flared again with some fleeting emotion she didn't try to identify. Green... his eyes were green. It was a jarring note in her dream. She closed her own eyes and made his blue.
She felt his fingers in her hair, releasing the pins and smoothing the waist-length silky mass over the velvet-covered pillows.
"A siren," he
rasped,
a peculiar shivering moan in his deep voice.
"A raven-haired witch."
His lips lowered to drop hot kisses on first one breast and then the other, teasing and tormenting each throbbing nipple in turn. "Such a tiny witch to possess such power..."
"Power?" she asked throatily, her fingers kneading his muscle-padded shoulders, her eyes flickering open in curiosity.
He laughed huskily, lifting his head to stare down at her with green flames in his eyes. "Power," he confirmed softly. "Don't you know, sweet witch, what you do to me? Can't you feel the fire in me-the fire you started? The fire only you can extinguish?"
Robyn trailed one hand down his back, letting him feel the gentle scratch of her long nails, and experiencing, indeed, a strange sense of power when he shuddered and groaned. "Am I putting out the fire?" she teased softly, watching the flames in his green eyes leap even higher.
"No!" he grated, lowering his face to her throat and pressing feverish kisses on the soft, scented flesh there. His hands moved over her body urgently, possessively. "Oh, Robyn, love, I need you so badly! Go on touching me, sweetheart-don't ever stop!"