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  Jude's hand slid down her shoulder and arm to close around her wrist. Nona shuddered. He repeated the caress down her other arm, and then his hands linked in front of her waist. Nona gave a little moan and sank back against him when he tightened his arms.

  So quickly lost, she thought. Two years of struggle so easily forgotten. Every nerve in her body cried for his touch. And her heart still cried for his love. The knowledge crushed her utterly. "Please don't do this, Jude. Why did you come here? Can't you go away and leave me in peace?"

  "You make me so crazy." His head dipped, his mouth searching the taut cord along her neck. "God help me, Nona. Don't ask me to go away. I've thought of you every day for months."

  Nona knew her breath was already quickening at the touch of his mouth and the movements of his hands as they sought to turn her in his arms. She tried to resist, she tried...but there was his mouth at her neck, nuzzling the places that made her tremble. Habit and desire won out and her face automatically lifted. She would have expected a kiss given after two years apart would be tentative or slow, but not with Jude. His tongue swept across her lips and pushed inside. His hand cupped the back of her head and tilted it to the proper angle, and a moment later he owned her lips and the soft cavern behind them. Nona thought she might fall, her knees weakened so rapidly in the force of the kiss, but his arms were tight around her. He was devouring her, and all she wanted was to be consumed.

  "Yes...oh, yes," Jude gasped against her lips. "Two years too long, Nona." His hand fought with the tail of her blouse, trying to tug it from the waistband of her slacks.

  Nona pictured the two of them sinking to the rug beneath their feet, feverishly undressing, and the hasty, desperate sex that would surely follow. Jude would, as always, ensure she had at least one orgasm and probably more, but Nona didn't want a meaningless fuck, which was all their coupling would be. Physical perfection, blinding pleasure, and zero emotional connection, at least on Jude's part. She couldn't do it again.

  "Stop," she whispered, when she could tug her lips free. "Jude, stop."

  "You're not escaping me again."

  She looked into his black eyes and saw the need brimming there as it always had. "We are not having sex, Jude." She didn't know where she found the strength to speak the words.

  "Why not? You want me. I can feel you wanting me."

  A short, harsh laugh forced its way out of her. "And I can certainly feel you wanting me. But what we had--it's over, Jude. Done."

  His brows drew together in his familiar black scowl. "There's no other man in your life. I made sure of that before I--" He broke off, and when she pushed out of the circle of his arms, he allowed her.

  "Before you what? Before you started stalking me? Before you met my father behind my back? Before you moved into my hometown? God, Jude--what does it take? It's been two years!"

  Jude crossed the few feet between them in less than a second, and took hold of her again. "Yes, God damn it, it's been two years!" His mouth crushed down on hers, and this time there seemed to be no way to stem the tide of his passion. He pulled her body hard against his, this time finding a way under her blouse to the warm skin of her back. One hand slid around to the front and teased her breast from its lacy cup so his fingers could toy with her nipple.

  Nona moaned, a low sound of reluctant surrender, but she could tell Jude heard it. His body hardened even more, his erection straining against his tailored slacks. And, as his body hardened, his mouth softened, slowed, and became coaxing and sweetly seductive. He licked at her lips and tongue and nibbled his way over her mouth. And then, surprisingly, he lifted his head and straightened her clothing. Nona stared up at him, bemused.

  Jude cleared his throat. "I'll take you home."

  She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her wits. What just happened here? She had not the slightest idea why Jude had given up seducing her, but she was grateful. Her defenses had already been breached. She would not have stopped him a second time.

  Jude's car was just as she remembered it, a smaller, elegant sedan in pearly cream with taupe leather interior. It smelled of his fresh, woodsy cologne. After less than a minute's drive, he slowed in front of her house. Rex was standing in the driveway and motioned to Jude to pull in.

  "Oh, God." Nona moaned, her hands flying to her hair.

  "You look fine," Jude said quietly. "You fainted, remember? Damn it, I should've brought you straight home. I might have known Martin would call your father."

  Rex opened Nona's door after Jude stopped the car and killed the engine. "Martin just stopped by with a box of groceries, and said you'd fainted in the store. Where have you been? Did Judas take you to the clinic?"

  Judas? Nona blinked. Judas. He'd never used that name with her. Yet he had apparently given her father what could only be his full name.

  Jude got out of the car and came around the back to help her out. She took his proffered hand cautiously and met his gaze. Somehow they were conspirators here. She might have told her father the truth--she had the opportunity--and yet she could not.

  "I took Nona to my house to rest for a few minutes, Rex." Jude spoke before Nona could open her mouth. "I didn't think to give you a call to let you know she was all right."

  "Oh, well then," said Rex. "That's all right. Come on in. I'll get us some iced tea. Nona looks like she could use something cool."

  Jude kept a proprietary hand on her waist as they walked up the drive. Rex led them into the kitchen, poured iced tea for each of them, and shooed them into the living room. He took his armchair near the windows, leaving the sofa for Nona and Jude. Jude sat with his usual lithe grace, and Nona perched on the sofa arm farthest from him.

  "Sit before you fall," Rex growled at his daughter.

  "I'm fine, Daddy. It was just a little dizzy spell. I was probably too warm."

  "You're not resting properly, that's what's wrong with you." He turned to Jude. "Remember I was telling you Nona runs the grove now, so I can golf and fish? She works herself too hard, but she's the one you really need to see with your questions about what to do with the Brinkley groves. She can probably find you a good grove man, too. You'll need someone soon. It's never too late to start planning for picking time. Honeygirl, I promised Judas--hell of a name your mama gave you, son--I promised him you'd take him around our groves one day real soon and show him the ropes."

  Nona felt her skin flushing to the roots of her hair. The two men had obviously spoken at length about her. What else did Jude know she had never intended him to? She decided to play it lightly. "What? Help the competition, Daddy?"

  Jude slid her a dark-lashed glance. "Afraid to give aid and comfort to the enemy, Nona?"

  Rex chuckled. "We're not so bad off we can't afford to help a friend."

  Nona decided to ignore her father's comment, though the knowledge Rex Hartley considered Judas Danzig a friend was startling. They'd met more often than she'd thought. "Whatever happened to Jarvis, Brinkley's grove man? Why didn't he stay on when the place was sold?"

  "I...chose not to keep him on. There were problems with the accounts. I think Jarvis had been siphoning off whole truckloads of fruit for the past ten years, and the old man never knew the difference. It looked like Brinkley'd turned over almost everything to him."

  "Really?" Rex was all ears, leaning forward.

  Nona slid off the sofa arm and slipped away to the kitchen, but her father noticed and called after her, "Thaw another of those steaks, honeygirl--Judas is staying for dinner."

  Of course he is. "Okay, Daddy." Instead of refreshing her iced tea as she'd planned, she quietly took down a bottle of whiskey and had a stiff shot, neat. It burned all the way down and brought tears to her eyes. It solved nothing.

  * * * *

  Nona tried to hide in the kitchen to make dinner, but her father chased her out once she'd tossed the salad and the potatoes were baking. "I can grill steaks better'n you," he announced. "Go see to our guest. Talk some shop."

  To her everlasti
ng astonishment, it was an entirely professional dinner. Jude sat across from Nona and quizzed the Hartleys about pruning, irrigation, rootstock, graft vigor, smudge pots for winter, picking by hand versus machine. From the start, Rex answered few of Jude's questions, deferring to Nona. As she warmed to the subject, she saw respect grow in Jude's eyes. She supposed she was a different woman from the artsy, innocent girl he'd had an affair with. That's right. I'm more than your equal in this subject at least. I'm not who I was. I'm not even the person who fainted at the sight of you in the grocery this afternoon! Would you fuck me just the same now, Jude? The thought made her lift her chin.

  She recalled another dinner party where she had slipped off her pump and toe-walked her way up his leg to press her foot firmly at his crotch. She wondered if he remembered her wantonness, if he had thought about the way his cock twitched and rose under her instep, and how he had subtly shifted in his chair and opened his legs to increase her access. He'd gone on talking with their host, but Nona saw him flush with pleasure and could feel him trying not to thrust his hips.

  After the meal, she had beckoned him into the glitzy bathroom and he had taken her against the cool tile wall of the large double shower stall, the tight skirt of her dress shoved above her waist, and the ventilation fan running to mask Jude's growls of passion. Her panties were in Jude's pocket the rest of that night, and he never let her forget it. He never gave them back either.

  Even now, if she thought hard enough, she could feel the cold tile through the low-backed cocktail dress she'd been wearing, and the heat of Jude's body inside her as he satisfied them both. A small smile curved her lips at the memory, and she glanced up from her plate to find his gaze fixed on her mouth. His own lips tightened, whether in passion or fury, she couldn't tell. Shaken by her own thoughts, she turned her attention to her potato instead.

  Rex seemed to tire of the business discussion as he pushed his empty plate away. He looked up at Jude and asked bluntly, "Now, where did you get a name like Judas? Seems like that name would just curse a child."

  There was a long pause, and Nona grew tense. Jude had never spoken much about his youth. Any conversational gambits she'd opened along those lines had met with grim looks and kisses designed to better occupy her mouth.

  "Daddy, that's such a personal question!"

  "It's all right. Everyone's curious about my name." He refilled his wine glass and tipped a little more into Nona's. "It's not a pleasant story. I was born out of wedlock. My mother had an affair with a married man. When he found out she was pregnant, he promised to divorce his wife and marry my mother, but somehow it never happened. And by the time I was born, he'd packed up and moved to another city. My mother never saw him again. So she named me after the most heinous traitor of all time. And gave me 'Benedict' for a middle name."

  "That's horrible!" Nona gasped. "Why did you never tell--I mean, you could've changed your name anytime. Why didn't you?"

  Jude looked at her sharply. Nona knew she'd given herself away with her reaction. He could tell she still cared.

  "It's who I am." He began stacking empty plates to carry into the kitchen. Clearly dinner had ended, and not on the best note.

  "I'll do that," Nona said. This new knowledge required thought. Did he remember his bitter mother every time someone called his name?

  "I truly didn't mean to stir up bad feelings," said Rex. "Sit down, son. Have some more wine."

  "I'm not...angry anymore. It was a long time ago."

  In the kitchen, Nona put the dishes in the sink and leaned her hot face against the cool enamel of the refrigerator. She could hear the men murmuring in the dining room. Dessert remained, and then, blessedly, she could escape. Her thoughts and emotions were completely confused. Jude had done nothing she'd expected him to do. At the Brinkley place, he had tried to seduce her, but he'd stopped and brought her home because she was distraught. He'd stayed and talked shop all evening in an engaging, interested and knowledgeable fashion. He'd behaved himself at dinner, and even revealed a few tidbits she'd never known before. He genuinely seemed to like her father.

  Nona needed the world to hold still a while so she could find her way through the collision of her emotions and longings. Two years hadn't made a difference to the way she felt about Jude...not really. The months had made her determined and cautious, but no less in love.

  She reached for cut-glass dishes and spooned watermelon sorbet into them, squared her shoulders, and marched into the dining room. Jude was shaking hands with her father, who said, "Judas--Jude--needs to get on home, Nona. He's just saying his goodnights."

  "Th-there's sorbet for dessert," she stammered, setting the dishes down.

  "Another time, perhaps." Jude's gaze met and held her own, darkly serious and confusingly gentle. "I'm sure I'll see you again soon. Thank you for today, Nona."

  * * * *

  Nona lingered over tidying the dishes and kitchen. She heard her father wander off to bed in his part of the house, and then the low mutter of his television. Nothing short of a bomb would blast him out before morning. She dried her hands, poured a glass of chilled water for the night, locked the back door, and went up the stairs. In her room, she undressed in the dark, kicking off her comfortable pumps, shimmying out of the slacks, and tossing the blouse and bra into a hamper. She could already smell the jasmine blooming. Her white sleeveless eyelet gown, knee-length and billowy, hung inside her closet door on a padded hanger. Nona lifted it over her head and moved toward the bedside table, where she groped a moment for the switch. The mellow light showed her the dozens of tiny white stars of jasmine blossoms tucked into the lacy mesh of the closed canopy.

  Nona froze, staring at them in shock.

  "God, but you're beautiful."

  The low voice made her blood pound. She turned towards the darkest corner of her room. Jude was sitting on the frilly white stool from her vanity, which she hadn't even noticed was moved from its place. He rose smoothly. Her fingers locked into the canopy lace. She was riveted.

  He was dressed in pale colors, nothing like the dark slacks and blue shirt he'd been wearing only a short time ago. The white shirt could only have been silk from the way it moved and gleamed as he walked toward her. His pants were heavy cream-colored canvas duck with a rope drawstring closure. His feet were bare. Nona shut her eyes and swallowed back the soft moan filling her throat. White had been the color of her sanity because Jude preferred greens and browns and the simplicity of black. She had never seen him in so much as a white shirt, even at a fancy dress dinner. Now he had invaded the white lace and silk of her room, and in so doing, her last bastion of strength and willpower.

  "How did you get back in the house?" A pulse throbbed like a trapped moth in her throat.

  "I climbed the trellis. Just call me Romeo."

  Nona wished she hadn't told him so much about her youthful exploits. "Jude, I--it's late. It'll be midnight soon." The protest was faint. Had midnight--or the hour at all, for that matter--ever been something to consider when the world narrowed down to the two of them?

  "I know." He came closer, reaching out to touch her hand where it tangled in the canopy. Nona flinched backward, groping for the bedpost to steady herself. Jude followed slowly. Lamplight slid over his face and revealed the darkness of his eyes, seemingly blind with the hugeness of his pupils. For the first time she could not see herself reflected in those night-dark depths. She stared, trapped, until he glanced aside at the bed. He reached for a fallen blossom.

  "I've never seen you in a nightgown before."

  The flower in his hand caught her attention and she answered him absently. "Only those dorm shirts."

  "Or mine." His voice was husky.

  She shivered as she recalled how much he'd liked seeing her in nothing but one of his starched shirts, buttons open nearly to her waist, long legs bare beneath the cutaway hem, and the glimpses of her nudity beneath.

  She felt his eyes traveling over her, but her gaze remained on the flower. It was eas
ier, safer, to look at that tender whiteness--until he crushed it between his fingers and drew the bruised petals along her skin just beneath the eyelet bordering the low neck of the gown. The scent of jasmine rose anew. Nona shivered, reaching for the straps of her gown. Her intention was to tug them higher, but Jude's hands covered hers and brought them away to flatten them on his chest.

  "Oh, Jude." The name sighed out of her and she slid her arms around his neck, molding herself close against him. She exulted in his instant response, more than plain in the swift bending of his head, in the hard pressure of his mouth against her own, in the way his hands pressed downwards along her spine to her hips to cup her buttocks. Exulted, even as she regretted it.

  "I want you so." He breathed unevenly against her neck, a spot of heat. "I want you, Nona."

  Want, and not love. Nona felt a whimper rising from her throat. "You should go. My father will hear."

  "He won't. You don't want me to leave." As he spoke, his mouth brushed over her collarbones and the soft hollows at the base of her throat, while his hands gathered the skirt of her gown and bunched it at her waist, muttering. "Let me take this off you."

  "I don't want you to leave. But I don't want this to be the same as it always was either." She needed to hear the truth... It couldn't just be about sex because a man like Jude could have any woman he wanted. A flicker of hope blossomed into a flame and she shoved it down.

  Jude's hands rode up along her ribcage, carrying the gown with it, fingers sliding beneath the snug bodice. "You can have anything you wish." He skimmed the gown over her head and arms, and let it drift to the floor. Jude tugged her hand to cup his erection. "Anything. Just tell me."

  Nona pulled at the drawstring and the soft trousers loosened. He was naked beneath, and smothered his gasp as she pushed the trousers down so he could step out of them. She slipped off her panties and tossed them away, and the flaring of desire in Jude's eyes almost scorched her skin. He reached up to part the lace of the canopy before urging Nona onto the bed, where the sheets were already turned down and more jasmine flowers dotted the sheets.