Passionate Choice

Chapter 9.9

   "Love," Selena whispered. "Did you say love?"

   "I did. I missed you damnably when you'd gone." Keith's hands slid down her bare arms, slowly and caressingly. Her ski tingled to that warm touch.

   "Oh, I missed you too. Damnably," she admitted.

   "Then why didn't you write to me?" He was holding her a deep bow in his abs squeezed them brutally between his as if he wanted to punish her in some way. "I asked you to."

   "I didn't because I thought you were married to Sora. Anyway, what about you? If you missed me so much, why didn't you write to me?" she challenged him.

   "What was the point? I believed you were married to your career," he retorted bitterly.

   "Then why did you go to Sanada?"

   "A good question," he mocked, "I went out of curiosity to find out if the career was satisfactory and all you had hoped it would be. And I guess I wanted to test myself, find out if I was cured of my love for you."

   "And were you?" She asked the question hesitantly. Her hands still held in his grasp, she looked up at him, trying to read his expression.

   "No."

   "Does that mean..." she began breathlessly and couldn't go on.

   "It means this," he murmured stepping closer to her, dropping her hands and putting his arms around her, drawing her against him. His cheek against her hair, he went on in a whisper, "It means I still want you, Selena, but only on my terms, only if you'll stay and live with me where I want to live, only if you'll give up that career of yours. I'm not sharing you with it. Or with any professor of archeology."

   "I had no idea you could be so possessive, so demanding," she teased, putting her hands against his chest pushing him away a little so that she could look up at his shadowed face.

   "Neither has I until I saw you with Hunt, saw him kiss you, heard him order you about." His arms tightened about her, threatening to cut off her breath. "God, I was jealous. I could have throttled him quite cheerfully and you too."

   "Oh, Keith, if you knew how much I've wanted to hear you say something like that," she said, half laughing at herself but inwardly amazed at how much his display of masterful jealously excited and pleased her. He was the lover she needed, a man who could sweep her off her feet, invade and take over her passionate heart. "I've loved you for so long," she admitted at last.

   "You have?" He seemed surprised.

   "For years. But I could never be sure of you. You've always enjoyed your freedom so much."

   "I've found out the hard way that freedom isn't too great if there is no one to share the enjoyment with," he drawled drily.

   "And then you don't seem to want to be committed to anyone."

   "You want commitment?" he asked gruffly.

   "Only if you want to make it," she replied softly.

   "I want to make it to you but only to you." He framed her face with his hands. "How about this for starters?"

   His lips sought hers. Warm and hard, they pressed gently at first, moving subtly against sensitive skin, coaxing the response that rushed up from the depths of her being. The flame of desire his touch always lit in her flared up within her, naked and unashamed, because he was the man she loved, the only man she had ever loved and to him she would willingly give her body and soul.