Rocked her… Was that another hit at his career? Johnny's sense of satisfaction that he had reached Megan deep down was instantly shaken by insecurities.
Maybe she had just been using him…Johnny on the spot.
And he had performed his heart out for her.
Brilliant…
'Well, I'm glad I'm good for something…apart from money,' he mocked.
He saw her eyes blank with shock, then spark with alarm. Her hand lifted swiftly to his face, cupping his cheek, instinctively needing to reach into him as she rushed into earnest speech.
'I'm sorry if that came out wrong, Johnny. It's just that… you're going tomorrow…and I have to let you go…so…'
'Easier to put me back in the box you've had me in for years, Megan?'
She grimaced. 'That is where you live most of your life.
No point in my wanting it otherwise.'
He asked the crucial question. 'Do you want it otherwise?'
Her lashes dropped. She watched the trail of her hand as it slid down his throat and over the bunched muscles of his shoulder. She drew a deep breath and wryly said, 'Let's be realistic, Johnny. You're here tonight, gone tomorrow, and I don't know if you'll ever be back.'
'I'll be back,' he stated unequivocally. 'As soon as the movie is wrapped up.' 'Mmm…'
To his ears it was the hum of disbelief. Why wasn't she prepared to accept his word for it? He'd never lied to her, never given false promises. Still, there was no way to prove he would return until he did.
She was gently rotating her palm over his nipple, seemingly fascinated by the fact that it could respond like hers to caressing. It surprised him when she leaned over to take it in her mouth and her hand glided down, over his stomach, touching him, stroking him. Excitement instantly buzzed. This was hard evidence that she still wanted him, no matter what the future held.
He rolled onto his back, carrying her with him, letting her do whatever she wanted with his body, letting the pleasure of it stream through him. He played with her beautiful hair, running his fingers through its silkiness, winding it around them, wishing he could bind her to him just as easily. But the reality was…only time could do that. So he wanted to make the most of now.
He was fully aroused again, teetering on the brink of climax. He quickly lifted her to sit astride him, wanting her to do the taking, wanting to watch her loving him, if only physically. The necklace of pearls swung back and forth as she settled into a rhythm—a metronome measuring the escalation of excitement. He cupped her breasts, wanting to feel the beat of her flesh on his everywhere…soft, hot music to his soul.
She paused, her eyes glittering with stormy feeling. 'Say my name, Johnny.'
He smiled at the echo of his primal need to be known by her. 'Megan…'
'Again!' she fiercely insisted.
'Megan Maguire,' he rolled out like the rich chord of a song that gripped his heart—a song he was yet to write but it was beating through his mind.
'Yes.' It was a hiss of satisfaction. 'I am my father's daughter and don't you ever forget it, Johnny Ellis,' she added proudly, tossing her hair back over her shoulders as though it was a mane.
Then she rode him hard, and Johnny was racing with her, exhilarated by the frenetic energy behind making him come, loving the sight of her driving them both to an intense climax, the pearls whipping around her throat. His pearls… his woman…Patrick's daughter…
It felt so good to hold her afterwards. No tension. No sense of conflict running between them. It was as though she gave herself to him without reservation, her body folding into the curve of his, spoon-fashion, happy with being close, relaxing into languorous contentment. No question about that now. There was a sense of peace in the silence, though Johnny knew there were other questions that would have to be answered in the future.
Had Patrick foreseen this connection between him and Megan?
Had he made his will with a marriage in mind?
Home is where the heart is, Johnny thought, but Megan didn't believe his heart was in the life at Gundamurra. He had to show her it was so.
She heaved a deep sigh, then quietly asked, 'If you chose these pearls for me personally, Johnny, why didn't you come to my party and give them to me?'
He raised his head from the pillow, looked over her shoulder. She was fingering the necklace as though wondering if it really did mean anything.
He kissed her shoulder. 'I planned to, Megan. I'd booked my flight home. Then I learnt a close friend of mine had been taken to hospital, overdosed on heroin. I hoped I could talk her into wanting to live.'
'Her?'
'I don't know if the name would mean anything to you… Liesel Furner?'
'No. It doesn't ring any bells.'
'Liesel had some brief fame as a torch singer. Her voice was very powerful, very emotional, very passionate. A great talent…but also a deeply screwed-up person. She…gave up on herself…and I couldn't pull her out of the darkness.'
'You cared about her.'
He paused before answering, looking back, remembering how he'd felt. Impossible to explain an experience to someone who had never been driven into those dark prisons of the mind by the abuse of others. Mitch and Ric would have understood, but Megan? He didn't want her to take her there. Not tonight.
He used a simple parallel. 'I would have liked someone to care about my mother, Megan.'
Another deep sigh. 'I'm sorry, Johnny. I guess you're saying Liesel died, too.'
'It didn't matter what I said…what I did…she didn't have the will to survive.'
'But she must have known you cared. At least she had that.'
While Megan had thought he didn't care about her. No difficulty in reading that equation.
And the truth was…Liesel's life had meant more to him than anybody's birthday party. The childhood abuse she'd suffered had struck a strong empathy in him. He'd wanted to give her what Patrick had given him, get her head around all the negatives, lead her into…
But he'd failed.
And it had taken him a while to get past that failure.
When he'd come home again, Megan had gone off to agricultural college. And ever after that, she'd removed herself from him, actively driving him away from any sense of closeness with her.
'I'm sorry I disappointed you. It wasn't that I didn't care…' 'You were dealing with your own life,' she finished for him, a wry touch of resignation in her voice. 'And that's how it is, Johnny—you dealing with your life, me dealing with mine.'
We've shared tonight, he wanted to argue, but he knew one night wouldn't carry much weight with her.
It was a beginning, he told himself, and settled back down to hold her as long as he could.