to whisper risqué plans for every inch of her body, and she grew weak with need. Big hands captured her hips and his mouth found its destination between her thighs. His deep kiss sent her reeling, and she cried out, squeezing him to her with trembling legs, squirming under his ministrations, her breathing coming in high-pitched gasps.
His touch was inspired, its raw sensuality carrying her to ever-greater heights, until at last, she careened wildly over the edge into a soul-stirring climax. She writhed and quivered, unable to control her cries of pleasure.
While the afterglow seeped through her veins, a deep sense of peace entered her. She sighed languorously, and caressed the thick hair at his temples. “Come up here, Lucas,” she demanded, her voice throaty and breathless. “I want to feel you inside me.”
His wily tongue gave her one last, bawdy tribute. She arched up, her blood surging with the thrill of renewed arousal. When he slid forward to cover her body with his, she held him tightly, kissing the crook of his neck, his jaw, his lean cheek, until at last their lips met, his descending on hers with ravenous longing.
The kiss sent delicious sensations flowing like warm honey throughout her body. They clung to each other, their mouths communicating a profound, wordless message. The encounter was extraordinary, suffused with something almost sacred, beautifully sensual, yet reverent. It was as though their souls had become mystically blended, and now were joined—forever.
Lucas must have felt it, too. Suddenly, he lifted slightly away, and stared into her face, a flash of uncertainty in his eyes. His features grew dark and troubled.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice frail and love-thickened. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
A bleakness washed across his features, and his eyes glistened. “God, Jess…I…” He broke off, swallowing hard.
“Lucas?” she asked, fearful.
In a voice rough with desire, he muttered, “Damn, I’m sorry,” and slid off, leaving her feeling bereft. He stood, wiping a shaky hand through his hair. “Get dressed,” he commanded gruffly. “I’ll wait outside.”
Her body ached desperately for the fulfillment he’d withdrawn. She pleaded, “Lucas, what did I do…?”
“Nothing,” he barked, scowling. “Forget it. Forget me.” Spinning around, he stomped off. “Get dressed,” he demanded, again, his tone dismal.
Jess was surprised she was able to push herself up, she felt so unsteady and helpless. The world tilted around her, and she wasn’t sure if she was awake or if this was some dreadful nightmare she couldn’t manage to shake off. “Lucas, why?” she cried, covering her face with her trembling hands.
She heard the door close and realized Lucas hadn’t heard her grief-stricken entreaty. But did it really matter? Deep down inside, she knew the answer. She’d sensed it in his kiss, seen it in his tormented face. Lucas had felt affection for her tonight—possibly even love—and he hadn’t been able to cope with it.
She knew now how utterly useless it was to harbor hopes for a life with him. He’d chosen to exist in a cold meticulous world that had no place for emotional attachments or imperfection. She had no recourse, no argument. She huddled on the bed, shivering, her body still moist and tingling from his loving, wishing she could go back to believing him cold and heartless.
Aching with sorrow, she understood him now, understood his demons, and knew she loved him, in spite of the fact that he would never allow himself to love her. A heartbroken sob escaped her throat. Surely she must be the world’s biggest fool!
THE RETREAT ENDED ON a decidedly sour note. The last of the activities, a barn dance, went off without a hitch, but Jess’s head ached so badly she could hardly be civil. Needless to say, Lucas’s riveting presence didn’t help much. Yet, somehow, they both made it through the evening with pasted-on smiles. She gave her Work Hard and Succeed speech, and Lucas made a few unexpectedly charming goodbye remarks.
Amid the final hugs and parting tears, Lucas surreptitiously passed Moses a package. Jess was confused at first, then realized he hadn’t forgotten his Mr. Prick promise, and had given the boy some condoms. She was surprised he’d remembered, and the act touched her.
She was surprised again, minutes later, when several of the teens gave him small parting gifts they’d made while on the retreat. Jess watched, saddened. The kids had grown quite fond of their substitute Mr. Niceguy. Unfortunately—so had she.
His face clouded at being singled out for tribute, and Jess sensed he was feeling