Page 69 of The Bride Wore White

He drew a sharp breath and abruptly changed positions. Then he took his time learning every inch of her body. By the time he settled onto his back again, she was soaking wet and consumed with the need for release.

He pulled her astride his thighs.

“Is this the point at which you have a panic attack?” he asked, his voice raw.

“Any minute now.”

“I’ve been warned. I’m willing to take the risk. How about you?”

She drew a deep, steadying breath. “Yes. Just promise me you won’t blame me afterward.”

“Don’t worry. If this doesn’t work out, I’ll blame myself.”

He began to thrust into her, going deep. She yelped and flinchedwhen she felt the sharp pain. Her hands became claws on his chest as she dug her nails into him.

Jack went utterly still. “Pru? What?”

“Not a panic attack,” she gasped. “Not yet. Just give me a minute.”

“Take your time,” he growled. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Her body began to adjust to his. Experimentally she started to move. He responded, pushing gently into her and then slowly withdrawing. She tightened herself around him. After a time, he moved two fingers to the sensitive place between her legs.

Everything inside her clenched until she thought she would shatter, but not from a panic attack.

“Is your necklace glowing?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

“Just a trick of the light,” she said.

And then the impossible, unbearable tension was released in a cascade of thrilling waves. In the next moment, Jack’s climax pounded through him. She hung on for dear life.

?Jack emerged from the dimly lit bathroom, sprawled beside her on the bed, and reached out to draw her close.

“I hope that wasn’t your definition of a panic attack,” he said. “Because if it was, I apparently suffer from the same problem with my nerves.”

“Oh, shut up,” she said.

“Okay.”

He closed his eyes and promptly fell hard into sleep. She rested her head on his shoulder and waited. The panic attack might have been delayed. She would stay awake for a while, just in case. If she felt it coming on, she would escape to her own room.

Chapter 32

The phone rang, dragging Jack out of the first deep, untroubled sleep he’d had since the Bonner case. Reluctantly he opened his eyes. He wanted to stay right where he was and savor the incredibly intimate feel of Prudence’s soft frame cuddled against him.

The phone blared again.

“Damn.”

With a groan, he eased away from Prudence, rolled out of bed, and grabbed the robe he had found on a hook in the bathroom. He padded barefoot toward the door, tying the sash.

“Jack,”Prudence yelped.

Startled by the shock in her voice, he turned quickly. She was sitting bolt upright in bed, clutching the sheet to her throat. Her eyes were wide with something between bewilderment and disbelief.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll get the phone. It’s probably Luther Pell.”

She did not appear reassured by that news. Instead, she continuedto stare at him in consternation. It was not an illogical response, he thought. A morning call from Pell was probably not going to bring good news.

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