Carrie Alexander - In Too Deep

  Tori Carrington

  In Too Deep

  It's springtime again, and Alannah White has returned to Ben Edwards's bed in her own unique fashion. Ben is tired of Alannah breezing in and out of his life for a few weeks of the year, and this time he plans to tell her so. But when he feels her familiar warmth against his body, he knows that he'll gladly play the lustful fool this one, last time. He just wishes she would talk to him about the secret from her past that haunts her, and the scars that mark her body.

  Alannah knows her mysterious behavior is hurting Ben, but she can't seem to stop herself, and she can't seem to stay put. Ben's the only man who has ever made her wonder what life might be like if she stopped running from her traumatic past and finally planted her own roots. But she can't help thinking Ben deserves a woman who can give him the home and family he's always craved.

  She was back. Hot, fleecy-soft, and magnificently naked in his bed.

  Ben Edwards knew instantly that the figure stretched out beside him wasn't his pet potbellied pig, Elvis, or, worse, his longtime butler, Newerth. Nor was the woman a figment of his imagination, a ghostly image from the past, or a manifestation of his dreams. No. It was spring, and beautiful, free-spirited Alannah White had returned in her unique way by slipping into his bed while he slept. If he had any doubt it was her, he had but to look at the single Aspidistra elatior in the clay pot sitting on the ledge of the multi-paned bedroom window, backlit by the coming dawn. Over the past four years the plant had grown taller, the pot it was in bigger. And every year Alannah took the plant — called the cast-iron plant — with her when she left, along with a huge chunk of Ben's heart.

  Ben drew in a deep breath, filling his nose with the sweet scent of Alannah's skin. He barely dared to budge the hand that lay against her curvy hip for fear that he'd wake her. Afraid that the move would force him to face his own demons. Right then, he merely wanted to relish her gypsy spirit, touch her warm skin and forget that he'd determined to refuse her; told himself that this time he'd be strong enough to turn her away.

  Only he hadn't planned to wake up with her already in his bed.

  Giving himself over to his baser instincts, he melded his fingers to her supple flesh, oh so gently pressing her more tightly against his aroused body. He closed his eyes and groaned softly. Every year he told himself this was it, this was the time he was going to give Alannah an ultimatum: Stay forever, or don't come back. If he didn't pull away now, he knew that strength would surrender to his fundamental need of her in his life, even if only for a few hours, days, or weeks.

  Alannah shifted in her sleep, wriggling her bottom tantalizingly against him.

  Sweet mercy.

  Four years had passed since she'd swept into his life. He'd hired her to transform the plain, grass-covered lawn of his vast estate outside Providence, Rhode Island, into an English garden reminiscent of the home he had just transferred from to expand his financial consulting business across the pond. Four years since he'd first laid eyes on her, transplanting a buddleia that had been placed in the shade to a spot with full sunlight in front of his house. Her spiraling black hair had shone blue in the warm light, her long tanned legs bent under her while her breasts pressed invitingly against the soft white material of her T-shirt. Then she had turned her electric-blue eyes on him. Ben had felt as though she had somehow managed to turn the sun so it shone solely on him, setting him on fire and making England seem very far way.

  And stirring in him a yearning to possess something that could never be his: her.

  With agonizing care, Ben circled his hand around her slender hip, over her smooth stomach and up to cup a small breast. The peak instantly stiffened, although her breathing indicated that she was still asleep. Heat, sure and swift, filled his groin and he arched into her. Within a few hours of first meeting Alannah she'd been in this very bed. And within those same few hours, that's where he'd wanted to keep her, always.

  But the only certainty in their sometimes relationship was that she would leave.

  Ben moved to retract his hand. Alannah stirred and caught the limb, pressing it between her breasts.

  "You're awake," he said, his heart thundering in his chest.

  She shifted until she was facing him, predawn shadows softening her features and turning her eyes to liquid black. She reached up and curved her fingers along his cheek then walked the tips along the line of his jaw. "Hi."

  The greeting was simple and direct and filled Ben with a need that transcended the mere physical. He longed to possess her, inside and out. Make love with her until she begged for mercy. Hold her to him until they ceased being two separate entities and instead became one.

  "Hi, yourself."

  Her plump lips bowed into a smile. "Did you miss me?"

  Had he missed her? Every bloody moment of every single day. He brushed a silky black coil of hair away from her mouth. "Oh. Were you gone? I hadn't noticed."

  She laughed softly then lay her head against his chest. Intense emotion seared Ben's insides, rendering him incapable of doing anything more than holding her tightly to him, his hand hot against her sleek back.

  Raised an only child in a family devoid of affection, he had never known that a simple touch could communicate so much. The writer Anaïs Nin once said that ecstasy was born of the melding of physical need and deep love. When he'd first touched Alannah he had discovered the truth in those words. He craved her when she was here, and when she was gone, leaving him an emotional wreck, he couldn't cope with any more.

  He shifted until his chin rested against the top of her fragrant curls and stared at the plant in the window and the splashes of color beyond it heralding the coming dawn. The son of a factory worker, he'd accomplished more than he'd ever dreamed of financially. Now his personal life was in dire need of attention. He found himself craving a wife. Wanting kids. He looked out over his hulking estate and longed to turn it into a home.

  And nowhere in that picture did wildly sexy Alannah fit in, no matter how much he tried to make it so.

  "I missed you," Alannah whispered against the hair on his chest, the touch of her breath making him shudder.

  "You miss nothing."

  She rubbed her cheek against his skin. "Maybe."

  Her fingers swept lightly over one of his flat male nipples, then trailed down the middle of his abdomen, leaving flames licking in their wake. Ben drew a ragged breath.

  "Alannah. There's something you and I need to discuss."

  He trapped her fingers against his stomach, holding tight.

  "Sounds ominous."

  Perhaps that's because it was.

  Ben closed his eyes, calling on every ounce of resolve he had. If this was to be done, it had to be done now. Before he caved and gave in to his need for her this one last time. Before he lost himself in the feel, taste, and smell of her and forgot himself.

  The problem was he feared it was already too late.…

  During the weeklong bus trip it took her to get from Tacoma, Washington, and her last job as a horticulturist to Providence, Rhode Island, and Ben, Alannah had been afraid that this would be the time Ben would refuse her. She had seen it in his eyes the last time she'd left. That expression that said more than words could, but if the words could be spoken, they would have ended their long-standing spring fling forever. For the past 11 months she'd worried that he might find the woman who could give him what he wanted, what he needed. That elusive something that she could not provide: permanence, marriage, family.

  She reasoned that it was that same fear that had compelled her to slip into his house in the middle of the night, strip out of her clothes then climb into his bed while he slept. She'd sensed that while emotionally Ben might have erected barriers, physically he wouldn't be able to refuse her.

  But as she lay there still as the waning night, her hand ensnared by his, she feared that the situation was worse than she'd imagined. He meant to refuse her attentions. Refuse her need to be with him this one last time.

  Longing blended with anguish and pulsed through her so strongly it took her breath away. She couldn't imagine her life without knowing that Ben was out there somewhere, wanting her as much as she wanted him.

  "Alannah, you and I need to talk," Ben's voice reflected the pain she felt, calling out to something in her she couldn't resist.

  "Shhh," she said, responding to the pain rather than the words. Emotion she could handle. It was always the words that got to her.

  She languidly slid her leg over his. She nearly cried out in relief when she found his arousal thick and pulsing. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hide his physical desire for her.

  Ben groaned. But rather than move away from her, he pushed her hand toward its original destination. Alannah's blood thickened as he curled her fingers around his erection and squeezed both their hands around the hard proof of his desire for her. A need that couldn't be denied by any amount of mental argument. A want that not even she could stop herself from wanting.

  Up, then down, he worked her hand against his hot flesh. She flicked her thumb over the silken dome, coming away with a bead of moisture that told her how close he was to crisis. If she had any doubt, his actions did away with them. In one smooth move he pinned her flat against the sheets, spreading her thighs with a quick nudge of his knee, then resting the knob of his arousal against her slick flesh. Alannah gasped, straining upward against him, trying to coax him inside. But he compensated for the move, staying put as he reached for
a foil packet in the bedside drawer and began to sheathe himself.

  He surged forward, filling her to overflowing. Her back came off the bed as she took him in, inch by inch, wanting him with a ferocity that erased coherent thought from her mind. Flames licked over her skin, then exploded inside her body, igniting a fathomless yearning she feared might not ever be satisfied. He surged forward again, forcing a low moan from her throat.

  If his lovemaking was a little more thoughtful, gentler, than she remembered, she chose not to acknowledge it. Instead, she curved her fingers down his spine and grasped his firm rear. Ben muttered something under his breath then bucked against her, teasing the pearl of her arousal until he pulled back and swelled into her again…and again…and again. Alannah threw her head back and clutched him harder, her back shifting against the sheet, her heels finding and digging into his calves as she tilted her hips up to take him deeper.

  This is what she'd been working toward. This total, complete abandonment. These sweet few moments when she forgot she was a dirt-poor girl from a small town outside Memphis whose parents had died when she was 10, leaving her to raise her little sister as best she could until child welfare caught up with them. All she could concentrate on was her desire for the man joining with her, and his need to possess her. The swell of emotion as their bodies melded then parted, only to meld again. The overwhelming sense of being outside herself as her soul reached out for something she wouldn't dare hope for at any other time.

  Ben's hand grasped her hips almost roughly, holding her still as he bucked against her once, twice, then toppled her over the other side of the swirling wash of color, following shortly thereafter. Giving them both what they'd been after.

  * * *

  Ben sat across from Alannah at the large rough-hewn pine table, watching as she pulled apart a piece of cheese, then slipped a sliver between her lips. She wore one of his crisp business shirts, the whiteness contrasting against her tanned skin in the dim light of the kitchen. One button held it together and the flaps bowed open as she reached down and fed a piece of apple to Elvis, who was all too happy to see his mistress return.

  Ben ran his hands through his tangled hair several times, trying to ignore the calling of his body even as he came to terms with the details of his plans. Nowhere had he allowed for making love to Alannah. His hormones raged, his heart beat an uneven staccato against his rib cage, and he was afraid if he couldn't have her again within the next five minutes, he'd go mad.

  "He looks good," Alannah said, jarring him from his thoughts.

  Ben looked at the 100-pound potbellied pig shimmying against her bare leg. Neither he nor the pig seemed able to forget that he'd been a gift from Alannah. A gift that constantly reminded Ben of her. And was a ceaseless source for companionship, although a sore replacement for the woman Ben had always wanted but could never capture.

  "Look, Alannah…"

  He noticed her movements slow at the tone of his voice, but she didn't meet his gaze. Instead, she seemed to concentrate on feeding Elvis, although she'd stopped matching him bite for bite, as though her appetite had up and left her.

  "There's something you and I need to talk about." Ben hated that he couldn't just come right out and say what was on his mind. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. And he wasn't sure how, but he knew that his turning her away would hurt her, even though their flings never lasted more than a couple weeks. And even though she would always eventually leave of her own volition.

  "What I'm trying to say here is…" What was he trying to say? "I mean…" Oh, just be out with it, man. "How long are you going to stay this time?"

  Ben had broken Rule Number One. Although it had never been outlined as such, he knew that asking Alannah how long she was going to stay was forbidden territory. He'd never asked over the course of the past four years. Partly because he'd been afraid she wouldn't answer. But mostly because he hadn't wanted to face the truth that she would eventually be leaving. He hadn't wanted to acknowledge that small, hapless part of him that always hoped she might stay forever this time. It had happened that way over the past four years of their sometimes relationship. And it was now up to him to break that hurtful cycle.

  The great thing about plants was that they always knew where they belonged. Unlike Alannah, who had never known where home lay. She funneled her fingers into the warm, rich Rhode Island earth, settling the soil around the roots of a transplanted anemone blanda then running the back of her hand across her forehead. In the four years since she’d initially transformed Ben’s backyard into an English garden, the plants had flourished. The tulips and daffodils and bluebells were blooming. The vines of the clematis tangutica climbed the trellis and the foxglove and aconitum looked hearty and healthy. The cherub fountain she’d found at an estate sale gurgled.

  She’d purposely designed the garden with self-sufficiency in mind. Which left her with very little to do other than prune, weed, and fertilize come springtime.

  Something cold and wet pressed against the arch of her bare foot. She glanced down to find Elvis prodding her, likely hoping that she had produced a treat from the warm earth. Alannah wiped her hand on her shorts then rubbed his bristly haired snout, smiling at his soft, animated snorts of approval.

  "I missed you, too, baby," she said quietly, wondering why her emotions hovered so close to the surface lately. But she didn’t have to dig far for the answer. It was becoming increasingly clear that this would be her last trip to the land that had captured her affection four years ago. And the only man who made her wonder what her life might have been like had circumstances gone differently.

  Alannah produced a slice of apple from her pocket. Elvis noisily approved of the unexpected treat. So easy to please. Every year the potbellied pig greeted her as if she’d left the day before.

  She’d brought Elvis to the estate three years ago. She’d been drawn to the black-and-brown porker while on a job in Savannah and had meant him as a gag gift. Ben was so anally neat and organized she’d figured he needed the opposite in a pet. Nobody had been more surprised than her when he’d kept the squealing piglet rather than shipping it off to a neighboring farm. Newerth, Ben’s uptight butler, had even confided that he'd caught Elvis sleeping in Ben’s bed on occasion, a sight Alannah had a hard time imagining.

  "Maybe you needed each other, huh, Elvis?" she said softly.

  The pig burrowed his snout into her midriff in search of another treat, tickling her in the process. It seemed no one had bothered to tell the 100-and-some-pound animal that he was no longer a piglet. Alannah smiled, her gaze drawn to movement in a nearby window. She met Ben’s gaze where he stood on the other side of the beveled pane, a portable phone to his ear.

  Their positions had been pretty much the same the first time she’d laid eyes on him, except then she’d been transplanting a buddleia in the front of the house to a sunnier location and he’d been watching her from the living room. She was surprised that not much had changed since that long-ago day. Her stomach still pitched to her feet. Her mouth went dry. And her heart felt as though it had been claimed by an outside source she was helpless to stop.

  Ben had been unlike any other man she’d met before. His crisp, English accent teased her ears. His hot gaze made her open like a daylily under the warm rays of the sun. His self-possessed nature compelled her to make him lose all control. His unconditional acceptance of her made her want to plant her own roots in the soil of his love and stay forever, even though they both knew that she couldn’t.

  "How long are you staying this time?"

  His words from a few hours ago echoed through her mind, causing her muscles to clench and her skin to itch.

  He’d never asked her before, lending credence to her fear that this time he meant to put an end to her annual visits.

  Alannah broke the visual connection and dropped her gaze to the ground. She’d always known that this day would come. Sensed that one day Ben would want more than she was able to give him. Only she hadn’t expected it to come soon.

  She stabbed her trowel into the soil. "What did you think? That he’d wait for you forever?" she scolded herself.