Chapter Six

Erin couldn’t have shocked Brand more had she announced she was an alien from Mars. “I…thought, I…assumed we’d…you know.” The last time Brand had stammered like this had been in the third grade. He couldn’t seem to get the words past his tongue without twisting and misshaping them.

“I’d assumed…you wanted to make love.” Erin’s cheeks were a shiny fire-engine red.

“I do.” He couldn’t argue with her over that point. He’d been half out of his mind with wanting her from the day they’d gone to the zoo. These lengthy weeks apart had intensified the longing.

“If you want to make love, then why are we standing here arguing with me over a silly thing like us being married?” She folded her arms around her middle and rooted her gaze on everything in the kitchen but him.

“We’re not arguing.” At least not yet. It took Brand a few more minutes to gather his wits. In an effort to do so, he had to look away from Erin. Having her this close, and this willing, was temptation enough. He couldn’t glance her way and not ache inside. His hands longed to touch her, hold her, give her everything she was asking for and more.

Her head was bowed, and the way she was standing with her arms shielding her waist brought out every protective instinct Brand possessed.

“If we’re not arguing, then why are we…you know—waiting?”

Brand was asking himself the same question. Oh, hell, who did he think he was kidding? He wanted her. One sample of her willingness wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy him. She was so damned beautiful, standing in the middle of the kitchen in her teddy, her skin so pale and baby soft. There were so many places yet to taste her and caress her, so much to teach her and for her to teach him.

The physical frustration was growing more painful, and try as he might, Brand couldn’t get the picture of what she was offering him out of his mind.

He yearned to fill his palms with the lush heaviness of her breasts and take her nipples into his mouth and have her nourish him in ways he had yet to fully appreciate or understand. He wanted her legs wrapped tight around his waist and to bury himself so deep in her moist heat that he’d reach all the way to her soul. He yearned for all of those things with a hunger that was threatening to consume him, and in that instant he knew he couldn’t have them.

“Get dressed, Erin.”

Shocked, she blinked, and he recognized the flash of pain as it lit her beautiful brown eyes.

“Why?” she demanded.

“I believe we have a stalemate here, my dear.” He strove to sound unaffected, casual, but it was a front, and a fragile one at that.

“Do you mean to tell me you refuse to make love to me simply because I’m not ready to marry you?”

“Not exactly. We’re not ready to make love—not when there’s so much left unresolved between us.” If she didn’t hurry and do as he asked and get dressed, she just might learn how precariously weak his principles actually were.

“Wh-what do you mean?” She reached for her blouse, and Brand swallowed a tight sigh of relief. He was already beginning to question his decision. He’d hurt her, shamed her for making herself vulnerable to him, and that was the last thing he’d meant to do. Hell, he thought he was being virtuous and noble.

He brought her into the circle of his arms and drew his fingers through her hair. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he whispered. “I love you, Erin.”

“You’re a—a wart on a woman’s pride.”

He struggled to hide a grin, not daring to let her know he was amused. “You’re right,” he agreed.

“Any other man would have been glad to make love to me.”

“I’d be glad, too.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

Brand didn’t know how to explain to her what he found so confusing himself. He wanted her. Needed her. Craved her. There didn’t seem to be any answers to the questions that plagued him.

Holding her certainly wasn’t helping matters any. The peaks of her soft breasts were pressing into his chest, and their rich abundance felt soft and swollen. Every time she breathed, her chest would nuzzle his and he’d experience an added degree of torment. She must know what she was doing to him, because she seemed to be breathing so hard and so often.

Unable to stop himself, he kissed her throat, pushing back her hair and twisting the length around his fist. Erin moaned softly. She removed her arms from around his waist, rotated her shoulders back and forth a couple of times, and before Brand realized what she’d done, her blouse lay on the floor.

“Kiss me there,” she pleaded softly in a siren’s voice. He was a sailor and he knew he should know better, but when she beckoned, he felt powerless to resist.

“There,” she repeated.

She didn’t need to explain where she meant. Brand knew. He found her breasts through the silk teddy, his tongue lapping the excited peak, drawing it into his mouth and sucking gently. Erin arched and whimpered, and when she did, her hips rubbed against the hot swell of his manhood.

Brand groaned and lost himself in her body, thoughtlessly throwing his concern and fears into a forty-knot wind. The delicious heat of desire was the only direction he needed. Slowly he slid his hand past her waistband and into the silky crevice between her thighs.

His thumb caressed the dewy mound until she softly cried out and arched upward, silently begging for what her virgin mind had yet to grasp. His finger located the apex of her femininity and slipped inside the folded layers of her heat.

She was hot and moist, and Brand groaned, or at least he thought he did. Maybe it was Erin. Perhaps both of them. It didn’t matter. What did matter was the way she closed her legs convulsively around his invading hand, her hips jerking awkwardly in abruptly, frantic movements. Brand calmed her with a few whispered words of instruction then moved his hand, slowly at first, not wanting to injure or frighten her.

“Brand?” His name was a husky question on her lips.

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” he assured her. “It only gets better after this.”

His finger slid smoothly through the moist heat as she gently rolled and swayed her hips, seeking her own satisfaction. Lightly he pushed and explored, going deeper and deeper, again and again. In and out, in an age-old rhythm.

Her hands tightened into a painful grip at his shoulders. Her long nails dug into his flesh as she arched and, with a strangled moan, tossed back her head and panted, cried out as release exploded within her.

There was no such deliverance for Brand, however, and his body throbbed with frustration and denial. He held her for several moments more until her breathing had calmed. Then he broke away from her, walked over to the sink and braced his hands against the edge as he drew in deep, even breaths.

“Brand?” Erin’s silky smooth voice reached out to him. “Thank you…I never knew…I’ve never done anything like that with a man. I’ve never…”

His smile was weak at best, and when he spoke, his voice was husky and low. “I know.”

“You did?”

He nodded.

“Can I do anything like that…for you?”

Brand shook his head fast and hard, the temptation so strong it nearly consumed his will. Nearly all his worthy intentions had been destroyed as it was.

“Can I?” she repeated.

He squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head. For good measure, he added verbally. “No.”

“You’re sure?”

Hell, no, he wasn’t sure of anything at this point, but his mind was beginning to interject cool reason, and he took hold of it with both hands. How easy it would be for him to set aside their problems and make love to her until she saw matters his way. Once they’d crossed the physical barriers, Brand was certain, he could convince her to marry him. If he’d been a different kind of man, he might have done it, but Brand was convinced he’d hate himself for manipulating her, and eventually so would Erin. He couldn’t risk that.

Once he’d composed himself, he turned around and held out his hand to her. She slipped into his embrace, her arms cradling his middle.

“Why?”

Once again Brand didn’t require an explanation. She was asking why he hadn’t made love to her.

“We’re not ready.”

He felt her lips form a smile against the hollow of his throat. “You could have fooled me.”

Brand eased her away from him, holding her at arm’s length, his hands braced against her shoulders. “We’ll make love when we’ve reached a compromise. I’m not going to fall into the habit of settling our differences in bed, and that’s exactly what would happen. I’m not looking to have an affair with you, Erin. I want a permanent relationship.”

Her shoulders sagged, and her head dropped. “There isn’t any compromise for us.”

“There is if we want it bad enough.”

* * *

Erin felt herself weakening against the powerful force of Brand’s personality. If only Brand weren’t so incredibly stubborn. He claimed he didn’t want them to complicate their feelings for each other by hopping into bed with one another. Good grief, a woman was supposed to be the one seeking commitment. If she wanted to make love, which she obviously had, then he should “damn the torpedoes” and comply with her wishes. But oh, no, he wouldn’t do that! He had to complicate everything by being decent and honorable.

If she’d had her way, they’d be in bed this very moment. She was so eager to relinquish her virginity that she’d practically thrown herself at him. Erin’s cheeks grew pink as she remembered the way she’d begged him to make love to her. She’d never been so brazen with anyone in her life. Not even in her wildest fantasies with Neal.

Neal was her make-believe lover. Okay, it was silly—stupid, even—but during college, she and her best friend, Terry, had read several books about setting goals and achieving dreams. Each and every one of those self-help books had claimed that one had to learn to visualize whatever it was one wanted in life.

One Saturday afternoon, when they were bored and lonely, convinced they were destined to live their lives alone, Erin and Terry had conjured up the perfect husband. Terry had named her lover Earl, and Erin had chosen Neal, because she liked the sound of the name on her tongue.

Last summer Terry had met and married a man she claimed was exactly like the one she’d created. Erin had flown to New Mexico for the wedding.

Brand, however, had little in common with her dream lover. Both men were tall, dark and handsome, naturally. If it were the physical attributes that concerned her most, then Brand would fill the bill perfectly. In fact, he was more attractive than anything she’d ever expected in a man.

Neal, however, had roots buried so deep they reached all the way to the center of the earth. He was from a well-established pioneer family. His great-great-grandfather had battled Indians and helped settle the area—not Seattle in particular, but any area.

He’d been born and raised in the same house. A home built on a corner, bordered by a tall, fenced backyard. Erin didn’t know why she’d decided on the corner house with the fenced yard, but it had a nice secure feel to it.

Once they were married, she and Neal would buy a house themselves, and it, too, would be on a corner. Once children arrived, they’d fence it, as well.

Her ideal man would have been popular in school, and his senior-class president. He was well liked and trusted by all who knew him. As for his profession, Erin saw him as a banker or an attorney or something equally stable. If he was offered a huge promotion, if it meant moving, he’d never accept it. His home and his extended family were everything to him. He wouldn’t dream of uprooting his wife and children for something as fleeting as a career opportunity.

Neal wasn’t wealthy. Money had never concerned Erin much, although it would be nice if he did happen to have a healthy savings account, since she tended to live paycheck-to-paycheck.

For the past several years, whenever Erin had dated someone new—which she hated to admit hadn’t been that often—she’d compared him to Neal. Her ideal man. The visualization of her dream husband.

Although Brand and Neal might be relatively close in physical attributes, they were worlds apart in every other area.

“What did you just say?” Brand asked, nuzzling her ear with his nose. They were sitting on the sofa, watching an old television movie. Most of the day had been spent walking around the Seattle Center, the site of the 1962 World’s Fair, and talking. Although they’d talked for hours on end, neither of them had spoken about their situation again or discussed their options.

“I said something?” Erin asked, surprised.

“Yes. It sounded like ‘Tell Brand about Neal.’”

“I said that out loud?” She scooted away from him and sat on the edge of the cushion, pressing her elbows into her knees. This habit of voicing her thoughts was growing worse all the time. Nothing was sacred anymore.

“Who’s Neal?”

“A…friend,” she stammered, not daring to look at him. If she were to let Brand know that Neal was just part of her fantasy world, he’d book her into the nearest hospital and request a mental evaluation.

“A friend,” Brand repeated thoughtfully. “Competition?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Why didn’t you mention him before now?” Brand’s voice had tightened slightly.

It seemed the perfect opportunity to pretend Neal was real, but that would mean lying to Brand, and Erin didn’t know that she could do it. She’d had such little practice at telling lies, and Brand would probably see through it in a second.

“I haven’t seen Neal in a while,” she answered, stalling for time. She had to think fast, milk this opportunity for all it was worth and prove to Brand that she wasn’t as naive or as guileless as he seemed to believe.

“So he’s a friend you haven’t seen in a while?”

“That’s correct. Are you jealous?”

“Insanely so. Do I need to worry about him?”

“That depends.”

“On what?” he demanded.

“Several things.” She stretched and, leaning back, relaxed against him, tucking her feet beneath her.

It was all the invitation Brand needed. His hands stroked the length of her arms as he buried his mouth against her hair and said, “I’m not too worried.”

“Good. There’s really no reason for you to be.”

Brand slipped his mouth a little higher and nibbled at her earlobe. At the heated flow of tingling pleasure, she carefully edged away from him, unfolding her feet.

Brand caught her by the shoulders and brought her back against him. He pushed his fingers through her hair, lifting it away from the side of her neck, and kissed her there, his tongue moist and hot.

“As I said before,” Brand murmured against her throat. “I’m not concerned.”

“Maybe you should be. He’s got a steady job. Roots.”

“So do I.”

A tiny smile edged up her lips. “Perhaps, but your roots are shallow and easily transplanted. Maybe you should consider Neal competition.”

“Is that so?” He twisted her around and pressed her back against the sofa cushion, poising himself above her. His eyes held hers, reading her as best he could. Erin didn’t dare blink.

Slowly he lowered his head to the valley between her breasts and flicked his tongue over the warm flesh. His fingers laid open her lacy bra with a dexterity that should have shocked her, and in fact, did.

Erin clasped his head and sighed with welcome and relief as his mouth latched hungrily on a nipple and feasted heavily. The things he did to her breasts felt so good, so wonderful. To have him come to her like this, as if he were familiar with every part of her womanly body, as if the passion and the intimacy they shared made everything right. She arched and buckled beneath him, having trouble thinking coherently. He didn’t help matters any by transferring his attention to the other breast.

Brand made everything feel right. Such thinking was bound to lead her into trouble. Erin might as well believe she could walk on water or leap off a tall building without the least bit of worry as have him make love to her like this.

As nonsensical as it was, having Brand touch her caused all the problems in the world to fade from view. All the conflict between them shriveled up and died a quick and silent death. With her breasts filling his mouth and his hands creating a magic and a heat that threatened to bring her to that earth-shattering sensual explosion, there was no room for anything but feeling. No room for doubt. No room for fear. No room for questions.

His kiss raked her mouth while his hands shaped and molded her breasts, lifting them so that the hardened, excited peaks rubbed against the rough fabric of his shirt. She longed to feel her flesh against his, and she worked toward that end, nearly tearing the material as she tugged it free from his waist. After she popped one button, Brand pushed her eager hands aside and unfastened the few remaining buttons himself. With his help, she was able to peel off the only barrier between them, thin as it was.

Brand lowered himself to her, and the sensation of her warm, heated flesh against the masculine roughness of his hard chest caused her to close her eyes and cry out in pleasure.

Brand subdued her whimper with a kiss, plunging his tongue deep in her mouth. His hips moved against hers, telegraphing his urgent need for her. Erin wanted him, too, and instinctively countered each of his movements with one of her own.

Pressing her hand between them, she stroked the hard outline of his maleness. Brand groaned against her mouth, and when he drew in a deep breath, she could feel the rumbling in his chest against the softness of her breasts. She reached for the snap of his jeans, but he pushed her fumbling hand aside and released it himself.

He kissed the side of her jaw and teased the seam of her lips with his tongue. “You’re proving to be too much of a temptation.”

“Me? Really?” She couldn’t help sounding surprised. As far as she knew, she’d never enticed a man. Certainly not to the point of arousal Brand had reached. It made her feel beautiful when she knew she wasn’t, and powerful when she’d never experienced a weakness more profound.

Slowly, as if her hand weighed a great deal more than it did, he lifted it away from him and pinned it between them, flattening her palm against his chest.

“Now,” he said, drawing in a slow, even breath, “reassure me.”

She frowned. “About what?”

“Neal.”

Her face relaxed into a slow smile. “Neal is…Let me put it this way…” No, she decided, it was too difficult to explain. “You don’t need to worry about him.”

“He wants you, doesn’t he?”

She lowered her lashes and shook her head. “No. I shouldn’t have said anything. It was a slip of the tongue, remember? Not meant for your ears.”

“I don’t care. I want to know who he is.”

“Trust me, you don’t need to worry about him. I promise.”

“Is he married to someone else?”

She was beginning to regret the whole episode, especially since she’d known from the first that she wasn’t going to be able to pull it off and she’d persisted anyway. Brand deserved the truth, no matter how unflattering it was.

“Neal isn’t real. I made him up a long time ago when I wrote down a list of the personality traits I wanted in a husband. I shouldn’t have carried it this far—It was a poor joke.”

“What?” Brand exploded. After a shocked moment, he laughed, then kissed the curve of her shoulder and lightly bit her skin.

She yelped, though he hadn’t hurt her.

“That’s what you deserve.”

“I couldn’t help it. You fell into my hands.”

“That isn’t the only thing we fell into. Sweet heaven, Erin, either we resolve something soon, or I’m going back to Hawaii unfit for military service.”

The reminder that he would be leaving within a few hours robbed them of laughter and fun and shared passions like a thief in the night.

Slowly, reluctantly, he eased himself off her and then helped Erin into a sitting position. He continued to hold her for several minutes, his chin resting against the crown of her head.

Neither spoke. But the silence wasn’t an uneasy one. Both of them seemed not to want or need to fill the void with idle chatter. Perhaps because they were afraid of what there was to say.

He was leaving, and it was something Erin had to accept. If they were to continue their relationship, it would be something he’d do countless times. Soon she’d end up keeping tabs on the times they said goodbye.

* * *

Later, Brand insisted on taking her to a plush restaurant. The food was excellent. They talked some more, but once again they avoided the subject that was uppermost in their minds.

“So how’s Margo?” he asked over coffee when a sudden silence fell between them.

“Margo…Oh, I’d forgotten I’d told you about her. She’s doing better than I expected,” Erin said, and then added, “but she’s having her share of problems, too. Mostly she’s having a difficult time dealing with her anger. A few weeks back I recommended she attend an anger-management course.”

“Has she always had trouble with that?”

“Apparently not, but we’re not dealing with someone with a hot temper. What Margo is experiencing is rage. There are times when she literally wants to kill her husband for what he’s done to her and their marriage. As more and more of the details of his ‘other life’ come into play, she’s having to face head-on the deception and the pain, and that isn’t easy for anyone. She feels betrayed and abandoned, in addition to being confused and lost. There was one bright spot, however. She got her driver’s license recently, and I believe once she experiences the freedom a car will give her she’s going to adjust a whole lot better.”

Brand sipped his coffee, his eyes warm and thoughtful. “Doesn’t being around these women affect you?”

“How do you mean?”

“Your attitude?”

“Toward marriage?”

Brand nodded.

“I’ve seen plenty of good marriages, my own mother and father’s included. I—”

“Just a minute,” Brand interrupted. “You mean to say your parents, who’ve been married how many years?”

“Thirty.”

“They’ve been married thirty years and they’re happy.”

It didn’t take a genius to see where Brand was leading the conversation. “You can stop right now, Brandon Davis. My mother is a special kind of woman. She thrived on adventure, and don’t let anyone kid you, transporting everything you own from one port to another is an adventure, mostly the unpleasant variety.”

“She liked it?”

“Liked isn’t the word I’d use. Mom accepted it. When Dad announced he had shipping orders, she’d simply smile and dutifully do what had to be done, without question, without regret.”

“I see. And you—”

She raised her hand. “Don’t even ask.” A short silence fell over them. “We’re doing it again,” Erin said after several tension-filled moments.

“Arguing?”

“No,” she answered, her coffee capturing her attention. “We’ve done it almost the entire length of your stay.”

“Done what?”

“Talked about everything else.” After he’d first arrived, they’d discussed their relationship only briefly. It was something of a wonder how they’d masterfully avoided the subject for as long as they had. They’d talked about her Women In Transition class, her job with the King County Community Action Program and Marilyn—alias Margo—at length. Even Aimee and her troubled marriage had entered into their conversation.

Sometimes they’d spend hours on a single subject. Brand was an easy person to talk to. He listened and seemed genuinely interested in every aspect of her life, sharing her love and concern for others.

In retrospect, she understood their reluctance to discuss their own relationship, or rather their lack of one.

“There’s no solution for us,” she said, swamped with melancholy. They couldn’t continue to fool themselves. Sooner or later they’d be forced to face the impossibility of their situation. Brand was one hundred percent Navy. As it had been with her father, it was with him. The military was far more than his career; it was his life.

“Of course, there’s a solution,” Brand countered.

“You could leave the navy and find work here in Seattle,” she offered, but even as she spoke, Erin realized that plan wasn’t feasible. Brand would be miserable outside of the military, just as unhappy as she’d be as part of it.

He mulled over her suggestion for a time. “I wish settling in Seattle was that easy, but it isn’t.”

“I know,” she answered bitterly. Glancing at her watch, she moved her gaze from her wrist to him. “Shouldn’t we be leaving?”

Brand looked at his own watch. “We still have time.”

Erin wasn’t convinced of that. But she wasn’t as worried about Brand making his transport plane as she was about having to tell him goodbye. This time was going to be far more difficult than the first, and the third even more heart-wrenching than the second. It would go on and on and on until they were both so much in love and so wretched they’d be willing to agree to anything just to end the heartache.

“There’ll never be any easy answers for us,” she whispered through the tightening knot of truth. “One of us will end up giving in to the other and spending the rest of our lives wishing we hadn’t.”

“You’re right,” Brand announced abruptly. “Now that you mention it, I believe it is time we left.” He stood and slapped his linen napkin on the table.

Erin noted how tense the muscles of his jaw had become. Silently she did as he asked, excusing herself while he paid the tab.

Once she was inside the powder room, Erin leaned against the sink, needing its support. If she didn’t compose herself, she was going to break down and weep right there.

She had to put an end to this torment for both their sakes. Brand didn’t seem to want to listen to reason. From everything he’d said, he seemed to believe a magical, mystical fairy godmother would swoop down out of the heavens and declare the perfect solution and they’d all live happily ever after. It simply wasn’t going to happen.

By the time she reappeared, Brand was standing outside waiting for her. The night was cool, the stars obliterated by a thick overcast and the threat of rain hung heavy in the air.

Brand greeted her with “I think it would be best if we said goodbye here.”

Her heart objected loud and strong, but she didn’t voice a single doubt. “You’re probably right.”

“Well,” he said after expelling his breath. “This is it.”

“Right,” she returned. “Have a safe trip.”

“I will.”

How stiff and unemotional he sounded, as if they were little more than acquaintances.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go to the airport with—”

“No.”

She nodded, feeling wretched. This was worse than she’d ever believed it would be. Her throat had closed off, and she couldn’t have carried on a conversation had her life depended on it. One- or two-word replies were all she could manage.

“Yes,” he countered, just as quickly. “Come with me. God help us both, Erin. I can’t bear to say goodbye to you like this.”