Mountain Song Read online

  “He’ll be coming soon?”

  “As soon as he can. Definitely some time this week. I assured him I’d stay with Bea through the surgery.”

  “I know she’ll appreciate that. She should be alert and fairly comfortable by tomorrow afternoon.”

  Andy didn’t know what else to say. Bea was a trooper, with a strong mind and generally good health. He’d put money on a quick recovery. The surgery itself should be straightforward, though he was concerned about the extent of the deterioration. Well, only time would tell how much function she would regain.

  Meanwhile the important thing was that her future seemed to be falling into place.

  Hell.

  He wanted to slam a fist through one of the nicely appointed walls. The important thing right now was that he wanted with every twitching nerve in his body to take Claudia into his arms, carry her across the room and love her right in the slanting sun of the big bay window.

  She wanted declarations? He’d give her declarations. Only...they never seemed to get out of the bottleneck of his voice box. His heart was practically ready to fly apart with pent-up emotions but every time he tried to put them into words...

  Nada. Big fat nothing.

  Right now, for instance. “Uh, Claudia,” he said. “I’m...really glad you came out. To look after Bea.”

  She cut him a quick glance, almost suspicious. “Well, in case I haven’t said it, thanks. I know you’ve done a lot for her. In fact, I hate to think of where she’d be without you.”

  “You two are lucky,” Andy said gruffly.

  “Oh? Why?”

  “You’ve got this crazy, up-and-down kind of relationship. You’re always butting heads, but anyone could see the two of you are—well, that you love each other very much.”

  Claudia didn’t miss the catch in his voice. He was right, of course. She was lucky to have Bea—and a father who adored her, sisters and nieces and nephews. And Paul.

  Andy had none of that.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally said softly. “About your father. I know you must miss him.”

  “Yeah.”

  “His death...it was unexpected?”

  Andy stared out the window. “He died one morning while I was a thousand miles away, probably reading some stupid medical journal. Massive heart attack, never had a chance.”

  “Andy, you can’t—”

  “Blame myself?” Andy shrugged, a tight, bitter gesture. “No. I don’t. I try not to, anyway. Dad worked two shifts his whole working life. Saved every penny. Hell, his idea of a splurge was springing for a box of Wheaties instead of generic oatmeal. And you know where that money went.”

  It was a statement, not a question. Claudia did know. “He wanted you to use it. It was his dream.”

  “I know it.” Andy turned to face her, and the iron strength was back in his clear eyes, the vulnerability erased. “I’ve known it since I was just a kid. And I’ve promised myself one thing, my entire life: that I was never going to let my old man down.”

  Claudia ached with a need to touch the man who stood before her, a man who’d given everything to fulfill his father’s dream. A man who, she was afraid, would never be able to quite satisfy himself that the debt had been repaid.

  And unless Andy could somehow get past the debt, he would never be able to let down his guard, not even just a little, to let another soul slip inside.

  He stood only inches away, and yet the distance between her and Andy suddenly seemed so great that a surge of loneliness clutched at Claudia’s heart. She couldn’t help it—a choked sob caught in her throat.

  Immediately the hardness left Andy’s face, replaced with concern. “Claudia?” He reached for her shoulders, held her at arms’ length, studied her. “I shouldn’t have rattled on about my father. I...have no right to add to your burden. I know these few days have been hard for you.”

  Claudia shook her head, not trusting her voice.

  “It’s going to be all right,” Andy said, pulling her awkwardly to him. His embrace was stiff, tentative as he patted her pack, pressed her to him so her face was cradled against the warm skin of his neck. Clearly it was a new thing for him to console someone, and somehow that made it all the sweeter. “It’s hard now, I know, but I really believe Bea’s going to recover and even thrive.”

  “It’s not—” Claudia began, but as her voice cracked Andy held her to him even more closely, and the strong hands on her back stilled, the comfort in his touch suddenly dangerously tinged with something else, something hot and forbidden and entirely irresistible.

  Claudia forgot what she was going to say, forgot about Bea and Andy’s father and even forgot about the comfort she wanted to offer this man who seemed doomed to forever battle his own demons.

  But maybe it was the demons that called to her after all, because as Claudia melted into Andy’s arms, she was seared with a ravenous urgency. She closed her eyes and shut out the cheerful, bright room, shut out everything but the feeling of Andy’s strong jaw against her skin, of his arms circling her.

  And then, barely even aware that she led this dangerous dance, Claudia pressed her hips against him, felt the solid mass of his thighs through khaki and linen. She flicked out a tongue to taste the vulnerable underside of his jaw, his throat, inhaling the smell of him. Dizzy from it. Drunk on it.

  He moaned in response, and she felt his arms around her go rigid once again and then he was pushing her away, holding her shoulders away from him while somehow their touch remained unbroken below. She could feel him harden against her even as he choked out her name. “Claudia. What the hell is this?”

  Reluctantly she opened her eyes, gazed up at him. Saw torment painted across his features.

  “I...need you,” she said simply. It was all she could manage. There was more to it than that, something outside the edges of her consciousness. Something about caution and fear and history and it was all drowned out by her reckless, screaming need. “I need you to make love to me.”

  His eyes darkened further, and the corners of his mouth, the soft lips she was aching to claim, tugged down. “Damn it, stop toying with me. You can’t turn this off and on. Last night—”

  Oh, yes. Last night she’d stopped, she’d walked away from him. Why was that? She couldn’t remember. The reason was gone, swirling into oblivion with everything else, leaving behind only need and desire.

  She wouldn’t stop now.

  She didn’t know if she’d voiced her promise, or if Andy read it in the electricity she was sure was emanating from her, but it must have been enough.

  Because he pulled her to him, so swiftly she gasped, and claimed her mouth in a searing kiss. He probed her depths, and she answered his rhythm, wanting to taste him just as deeply. A moan escaped her and he drank it in as he guided her one, then two steps, to the wall, and pressed her against it.

  Claudia leaned against the hard, cool, surface as Andy slid his hands down her body, then up again, slowly. His mouth left hers and explored. A nip at her earlobe caused her to jump, and then he traced slow circles with the tip of his tongue in the shell of her ear.

  A sensation of liquid heat rocketed along her nerves to the very center of her, and then below, to the core of her need. She arched against him, meeting the gentle rocking of his hips, urging him on.

  If there was anything remaining of a question, that seemed to be all he needed. Andy shoved up the fabric of her skirt, and she spread her thighs apart to accommodate him, moaning again as he took his place against her.

  Andy made quick work of the few buttons of her blouse, pushing the soft linen fabric out of the way, pausing just a moment before tracing the line of her bra with his lips and tongue. Then he released the clasp in a deft twist of his wrists, and her breasts spilled into his hands, the nipples pure sensation when his lips brushed them.

  “What if...ohhhhh.” Warnings sounded far off, but they were almost quelled as Andy traced his way back across her collarbones and nipped at the sensitive skin of her
throat. She gulped air, tried again. “Is the door locked?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “But someone could—mmmm...”

  “Yeah, I guess they could.”

  “You’re—oh—you’re not worried?”

  In answer Andy hooked a finger into the lace of her panties and slid them down, then softly traced his fingers through the soft hair toward the aching center of her need. Claudia sagged against the wall, her body liquid as sensation quivered through her.

  But Andy caught her. He held her to him and stroked, his touch maddeningly light, until she arced against him, strength returning in her urgent hunger for more.

  He spoke again, hot breath at her ear, just at the moment he delved inside her with a skillful finger. “If you have any doubts...tell me now, Claudia, or we won’t be able to stop.”

  She couldn’t speak even if she wanted to. With his touch inside her and outside and seemingly caressing all her nerve endings at once, Claudia knew she was powerless to stop, and she gave in to her need, moving to meet his caresses, sliding her hands down his back until they found leverage to bring him even closer.

  Andy knew then that they had crossed the line. He would have made good on his offer, if she’d spoken just seconds ago. He would have stopped, smashed down his roaring desire somehow, put his head in an icy shower if that’s what it took.

  But now she was arching towards him, and the feel of her was driving him wild. Soft, wet velvet, trembling against his hand. He wasn’t going to be able to take it much longer.

  Then suddenly she moved away from him, a quick motion, and his fingers slid across her moist skin until he cupped only thigh. He barely had time to react before he felt her fingers at his belt, the zipper of his khakis.

  “Help me here,” she whispered thickly. “Please.”

  A quick yank and pants and boxers fell to the floor. Claudia seized him in her hands with a greed he didn’t recognize. “Quickly,” she murmured.

  Then he was lifting her as though she weighed no more than a down pillow. Claudia felt her back set solidly against the wall, her thighs hooked around Andy’s waist. She guided him towards her with trembling fingers, and as he hesitated at the entrance to her, she met him with the fierceness of her passion and forged their union.

  He filled her slowly, incredibly slowly, and then he stopped and pulled away from her. Her body screamed with hunger and she twisted toward him, but it was no use. Andy would not be hurried.

  Then she understood that it was his rhythm they would follow now. In his embrace she was helpless to meet his thrusts with her own. She could only wait, and beg with her lips and teeth against his neck, with her arms pulling him to her.

  When she finally gave up to his control at last he seemed to know it. His strokes became deeper, and he lingered against her. Claudia felt herself drawing closer to the edge and cried out in ecstatic frustration as he pulled away just before her release, teasing her, playing her like an instrument.

  When she thought she could take no more, Andy suddenly thrust deeply inside her, so deeply he became a part of her, and she cried out. And then her awareness fell away as he joined her at last over the top, rocking and holding her as they both took the summit and held on to each other for dear life.

  When finally the rain of sensation diminished to slow, sensuous eddies, Claudia realized she’d sunk her teeth into Andy’s flesh. Embarrassed, she leaned her cheek against him as he slowly lowered her until her feet touched the floor. But she wasn’t ready to stand. Not yet. She leaned against him, and his arms circled her and held her loosely, comfortably, against him.

  “Never tried that before,” he finally murmured into her hair.

  “I...I can’t believe that.”

  “It’s true. I was never much of an adventurer until you came along.”

  And then they were silent, Claudia filled with memories of dozens of other times and ways they’d loved.

  Slowly consciousness returned. First she was aware of the light still streaming into the room. Then she felt cool air on her exposed thighs, and remembered that her panties must be somewhere around her ankles.

  “Excuse me,” she said, ducking to retrieve them. She felt blood rushing to her face, twisted out of his arms. “I just need a second.”

  In the apartment’s spotless bathroom she put herself back together as well as she could. When she emerged Andy was dressed again, the only hint of their activities a trace of perspiration at his hairline. He’d taken a seat leaning against the dining room wall, looking out the window.

  “Join me,” he said, patting the carpet in front of him.

  “Shouldn’t we—”

  “Claudia, you’re entirely too preoccupied with ‘should’. Cut it out.”

  She was only too happy to oblige. It felt good, leaning against him, his chin on top of her hair, arms encircling her. It felt safe.

  Safe...right. Things felt right in a way they hadn’t in a long, long time. A smile curved Claudia’s lips and she leaned into Andy. He stroked her hair, running his fingers through the strands and along her head, and her body hummed with contentment.

  “I’m glad we did that,” he said softly into her hair. “I’m tired of wondering if this is a mistake or not or what the heck it is.”

  “Me too,” was all Claudia managed, but the silence that followed felt all right.

  Her purse was just off to the side, lying on the floor where it had fallen victim to their passion. Claudia glanced at it, then looked at it harder.

  Inside, she knew, was her wallet, with its accordion-folded sheaf of photos. Paul as a baby. Paul on his first birthday. His second, third, and finally the one she’d had taken this year, her favorite. He was wearing a pint-sized denim shirt with a tiny orange dinosaur embroidered on the pocket, his very favorite shirt, and his grin was crooked and easy and full of enthusiasm for life.

  Claudia made a decision, one that wasn’t based on reason or forethought or planning or logic. Like their union moments ago, she let herself be guided by her emotions, something she hadn’t done in years.

  Still glowing with the warmth of Andy’s body around her, Claudia extracted herself just long enough to hook the purse’s strap around her foot and draw it close to her.

  “I have something to show you,” she said, and suddenly the enormity of what she was about to do seized her, paralyzed her.

  “Mmm?” Andy queried idly, his breath warm against her neck, his strong fingers resuming their lazy circles against her scalp.

  “I—I don’t know.” Claudia frowned, fear slowly beginning to nibble away at her contentment.

  “Go ahead,” Andy said. “Surprise me.”

  Claudia took a deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut, and said a quick prayer. Then she drew out the wallet, the photos tumbling out into her palm. The one she loved the best was on top, Paul smiling up at her, almost as though he was encouraging her.

  Andy took the sheaf from her, gave it a shake as the sun glanced off its shiny surface. Then she felt him go still. Very still.

  “That’s Paul,” she said quickly. “Who I told you about.”

  There was a pause, and when Andy’s voice came, it was careful, distant. “A child?”

  “He’s....well, actually, he’s our son.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Everything faded away. Everything but the picture he held in the palm of his hand, the little blond boy with the dinosaur shirt and the megawatt grin.

  Our son.

  Claudia had been nervous, her hands shaking when she took the photo out of her wallet, hesitant when she handed it to him. But her voice was strong and clear when she spoke those two words.

  He repeated them over and over in his mind, tried to process the syllables into a concept he could grasp, but all he could focus on was the picture. On a dotting of freckles across the boy’s nose; a finely molded, slightly flat nose, not unlike his own, in fact.

  The boy—Paul—was smiling in the picture. As if someone had just told him a
dumb joke, the kind kids love, knock-knock-who’s-there or why did the chicken cross the road. One of those.

  And that dinosaur on his pocket. Nice touch. Maybe the kid was really into dinosaurs, as Andy had once been really into model airplanes. Maybe there were dinosaur curtains in his room, dinosaurs on his pillowcases and cereal bowls. A dinosaur toothbrush.

  Our son.

  This time the words sliced through his muddy contemplation of the photo and rocketed through his brain. He had fathered a child.

  He’d never meant to, never wanted to. He’d been careful, damn it. He’d followed the rules, used precautions. Made his feelings clear.

  But through some terrible mistake, some drastic injustice, a child had been conceived anyway. A baby had been born, and for the last four and a half years had gone about the business of growing up while Andy, hundreds of miles away, never knew a thing about his existence. Bumbled through life while fate had a good laugh on his account.

  Focus, focus. Andy took the deep breath, knitted his brows, gritted his teeth as he had a thousand times before when tackling a difficult concept. And focused.

  Okay. Putting it in the abstract, making it less personal, helped. He grasped the idea. An unplanned pregnancy. But the round face grinning at him—he couldn’t make that piece fit the puzzle. Andy knew nothing of this boy, had never in all the moments of Paul’s life given a thought to him. Didn’t know his birthday, his shirt size, his favorite color, what he liked to eat for dinner.

  “How can he be mine?” The voice was his, but the tone, bewildered and slow, sounded like someone else speaking.

  Claudia stiffened, slowly sat up, pushing away from him. She slid a few feet away on the soft carpet and pulled her knees under her chin, her elbows close to her body.

  “Maybe I’ll pretend you didn’t ask that question.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “I wasn’t with anyone else. Not for a long time after you. A long time.” Moments before, she’d leaned into him, her body’s curves fitting against him, sharing his warmth. Now he could read the tension in her body. Fierce glints sparked her narrowed eyes and her jaw was set.