by Mae Clair
“I don’t believe you.” Elijah had a sudden flash of memory–a person walking on the beach at night absorbed in thought as they rounded the corner of the planetarium. In the confusion of everything that had happened, he’d forgotten about that shadow. If Brody hadn’t been trying to harm him, then why had he forced Elijah underwater?
To keep him from seeing whoever was on the shore?
“This is all rather tedious, Dr. Cross,” Pellar said. “From the look of things, you and Ms. Cassidy have had a long day. You’ll feel better after a shower, a change of clothes, and some hot food. Not to mention the welcome effect it would have on the rest of us. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He started to turn away, but Elijah caught his arm and pulled him roughly around.
“You’re not going anywhere. I want to know why this book was chosen.”
Pellar sighed dramatically. “It’s really not much of a mystery, Doctor. Did you even consider the author’s name?”
“Author?” Reagan asked, peering over his shoulder at the cover.
Elijah grimaced. “Aric Southyrn.”
“There, you see. You really are as brilliant as they say. I would hazard to guess even you can see the similarity between the author’s name and your host’s name, thus deciphering why he chose the book.”
Elijah frowned, unconvinced. “What about the clue? The part about memories?”
Pellar’s mouth settled into a pinched white line, a sign he’d reached the end of his patience. “It’s a very old book. The particular copy your clue led to once belonged to Mr. Sothern. Had you looked inside the cover, and taken the time to note that, you’d realize the memory relates to Mr. Sothern. Are you quite satisfied now?”
Irritated, Elijah tossed the book on the table and walked away. He’d done his part. He’d solved the ridiculous clue, even if it left him feeling violated and unbalanced. Sothern’s memory, bullshit! It was his memory. A memory of lying in bed each night, tucked beneath the covers as Eden read him the story of John Feather and the Southern Cross. A memory of dreaming about the sea and stars, one as magical as the other, brought to life by the beautiful clarity of his sister’s soft voice.
Out of habit, he touched the cross tucked in the pocket of his jeans. The symbol of the constellation Crux, skewed at an angle, just as the stars were skewed in the sky. Eden told him it was a symbol of their mother’s undying love and would bind them forever. Without realizing, he’d walked from the dining room, down the hallway, and headed for the stairs.
“Elijah, wait.” Reagan’s voice echoed behind him.
He hesitated at the bottom step, one hand on the banister. He felt tired and grungy, sticky with sweat. His injured leg throbbed painfully, a sore reminder of how he’d abused it today. All he wanted was a shower followed by a glass of wine, sure to go straight to his head. With any luck he’d sleep like a stone.
Reagan slowed as she reached him, her hand folding over his on the railing. Most of the hair had wormed free of her ponytail. A few strands clung to the side of her face, gummed with perspiration. There was a smudge of dirt on her chin, just below her lip. He thumbed it away and leaned close to brush a soft kiss across her mouth. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“No you’re not.”
He drew back, confused. “What?”
“You’re going to come with me.”
“Where?”
Rather than reply, Reagan took his hand and led him up the steps. She glanced over her shoulder, a small smile playing on her lips. Elijah’s weariness drained away in a heartbeat. He knew she was tired too, as exhausted as he, yet something about her secrecy sent new energy crackling through his body. The touch of her fingers against his palm felt electric. He watched the seductive sway of her slim hips, one step ahead of him on the staircase. His mouth went dry as anticipation started a slow crawl through his belly.
“Where are we going?”
Reagan placed a finger over her lips, miming for quiet. She led him from the second floor to the third, then up a spiraling white staircase to the rooftop pool. Cool air struck him the moment they stepped onto the deck, lacing breezy fingers through his hair. It dried the sweat on his forehead and curled beneath the sticky collar of his t-shirt. A star-filled sky yawned above them, blue-black like the bottom of a deep well streaked with grape-purple at the edges. Sparse clouds skimmed the face of a pale moon.
Elijah’s gaze traveled to the pool. The deck lights were off, but the underwater globes shone, turning the water a startling, inviting shade of blue. Shimmering beams of light bounced like live current beneath the surface. A concrete apron, overlooked by brightly colored chaise lounge chairs and lacquered tables, surrounded the pool. A grin curled the corner of his mouth. “You want to go swimming?”
“It might help you unwind.”
Reagan stared up at him. Her eyes were an intoxicating mesh of green fire and starlight, siren and enchantress rolled into one. She wanted to help him, not seduce him, Elijah reminded himself reluctantly. It didn’t matter what he was thinking, what he had been thinking for the last few minutes. When he was tired his libido tended to go either way, and right now it was gearing into overdrive.
“Come with me?” he asked playfully.
She didn’t respond, but her eyes sparked with an unexpected edge as if he’d handed her a dare. Stepping backward to the edge of the pool, she stripped off her top in one slow, sensual movement. Elijah watched dumbfounded, his mouth dry, his eyes riveted to the long, lush lines of her torso. Starlight caressed her bare flesh and the lacy pink fabric of her bra, her nipples hard and erect beneath.
“Hell.” He stifled a groan.
Reagan pulled the band from her hair, freeing the remaining strands to tumble loose over her shoulders. She kicked off her sandals then shimmed from her capris, clad only in pink panties and bra.
Elijah’s heart jackhammered. His pants were suddenly so tight, the restriction was painful.
“Are you coming?” She pushed from the lip of the pool, her lithe body parting the cool, blue water in a flawless dive.
He tripped in his rush to pull off his sneakers, stumbling to one knee. His palms struck the concrete apron, and he hastily scrambled back to his feet. “What I want to know,” he mumbled, arms tangled in the t-shirt he yanked over his head, “Is when you turned into Aphrodite.” He couldn’t get out of his jeans fast enough and almost fell again. His heart thundered so loudly he was sure Pellar would hear it two floors below and come stalking onto the deck, demanding to know who was making the unbearable racket.
Not tonight, Felix. Anytime but tonight.
Reagan had initiated this, not him. All this time, she’d been the one setting boundaries, defining the terms of their relationship and drawing lines. In a few quick heartbeats she had propelled them into new territory. A territory he was practically hyperventilating to explore.
Get a grip, Cross. She’ll think you’re some kind of sex-starved lunatic. He paused. Hell, Doctor, she probably already does.
Elijah stripped to his white boxers, painfully aware of his erection. There was nothing he could do about it, nothing he wanted to do. If Reagan thought she could toss off her clothes and it wouldn’t affect him, she’d been living on another planet for the last week.
He dove into the water, unfazed by the cold shock. He had one thing and one thing only on his mind. He was on a hunt, and it didn’t involve clues, journals or memories.
Elijah surfaced close to Reagan, sweeping wet hair from his eyes. He cupped his hands around her slim waist and tugged her against him. “I like this idea of yours.”
“Do you?” Her arms encircled his neck. “It’s supposed to help you relax.”
He brushed his lips against hers, teasing. “Relaxing isn’t what I had in mind.” She felt so wonderful, silky and smooth. Every slight whisper of her skin against his pulsed with shimmering current. He slipped one finger beneath her bra strap and looped it from her shoulder, brushing a lingering kiss on the creamy knob. “You know how much I
like pink.” His lips trailed from her shoulder to her neck, tasting the coolness of flesh dusted with water and chlorine.
They floated together, buoyed in the water, feet scraping the bottom. Elijah drew her deeper, where the water lapped beneath their chins. He hugged her closer, wanting to kiss her, savor the rightness of the moment. It was hard tempering his lust after keeping it bottled so long. But as his lips found hers, molding to her softly yielding mouth, he realized he wanted more than sexual gratification. He craved something deeper that would last beyond the pleasure of the moment, however satisfying the moment might be.
Damn, if he hadn’t gone and fallen in love with her.
* * * *
Reagan shivered, but the goose bumps that danced down her spine and tickled her arms had nothing to do with cold. The touch of Elijah’s bare skin against hers, coupled with the unmistakable feel of his arousal, awakened desire. She wasn’t sure where the idea of a nighttime swim had come from, or when it had gone from something innocent to something seductive. Initially, she’d thought only of helping him to relax, but once he’d looked at her with those electric blue eyes and tossed out a playful invitation to join him in the pool, she’d responded impulsively. Her self-imposed agreement of setting boundaries and suppressing attraction cracked like a fragile eggshell.
She’d fallen head-over-heels in love with him and no longer cared about focusing solely on the treasure hunt. After all they had been through today, she wanted the luxury of passing the night in his arms. He was the most sensual, exciting man she’d ever met, and she wanted to explore that sensuality in slow, exquisite detail.
“No more rules,” she whispered in his ear.
He responded with a groan, burying his face in her hair, dragging her even closer. Elijah crushed her against the side of the pool, locking his arms on either side of her body, trapping her against his chest. His mouth closed over hers, warm, hungry and seeking, his tongue invading with a strength that left her weak and trembling. Fire crackled down her spine. The intoxicating press of his body sent a rabid pulse of heat cascading from her head to her toes. Everything around her sang with the rightness of the moment. The touch of air against their bare skin, the shimmering beams of light bouncing in a pseudo-dance beneath the water, the fierce pounding of her heart, each frantic beat increasing the magnetic pull between them. If she was fated to love one man in her life, it was Dr. Elijah Cross.
Elijah shuddered. “You’re going to be my undoing.” He slipped a hand beneath her panties, boldly squeezing her bottom. The shock of his touch, intimate and demanding, made her gasp aloud.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.
Reagan shook her head, too breathless to speak. She wanted more than his touch, more than his kiss. She nipped at his earlobe and skimmed her fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers.
“I’m on the pill. Consider it an invitation.” She pressed her lips to his neck and felt the quick rumble of his laughter. His hand kneaded her bottom, growing bolder as it pushed the panties down over her hips. In a matter of seconds she was free, the lacy underwear carried away by a gentle current.
Reagan moaned at the heady sensation of water rushing over her. Giddy heat pulsed to life between her legs. Her body quaked with the staggering need to have him touch her there. Instead, Elijah dipped his head and suckled the nipple of one breast through the wet and clinging fabric of her bra. She whimpered softly, begging a greater intimacy. The waistband of his boxers became a hindrance and she pushed at them, desperate to have him as naked as she. To have their mutual desire, long denied, bloom into an unforgettable night beneath the stars. A night of passion and sensuality, so rich and fulfilling she would never again question her love for this man.
Unhurried, Elijah unhooked the clasp on her bra, slowly trailing the straps from her shoulders with open-mouthed kisses. She shivered at the intoxicating sensation, fully aware of each teasing kiss against her wet skin. When she was fully naked, he wrapped his arms around her waist.
“You’re too special to rush this.”
Special. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Did that count as love? Was it remotely in the same vicinity as strong affection and devotion? She’d drive herself crazy if she thought about those emotions now. Better to go with instinct and passion, surrender to fate, and embrace the sensuality of the moon-drenched night.
“Show me.” She locked her fingers in Elijah’s long, wet hair. The water lapped against her flesh, nuzzling skin already sensitized by desire. The startling heat of Elijah’s lips was warm on her throat, the stroke of his fingers a blazing path on her hip, across her thigh. Every nerve in her body blossomed beneath the deliciously sensual track of Elijah’s hand. His thumb found the heated core between her legs and pressed intimately, sending a streak of lightning through her spine. Reagan moaned, every glittering star in the sky aflame with the same quivering pulse as her body. How could a man’s touch–this man’s touch–be so utterly earth-shattering?
She pulled away slightly, grappling for a foothold in reality. She was completely naked and he still wore those white boxers, grown shockingly transparent in the water. The man was definitely well equipped. The absence of his touch made her tremble with need, but the flow of cool water over her naked flesh was almost as exquisite.
“You need to lose your shorts.” She smiled seductively and pushed away from him, swimming across the wide expanse of the pool. She heard hasty splashing behind her and knew he was eagerly stripping off the saturated garment. It made her feel empowered to think he wanted her so badly.
She heard him closing on her, but didn’t turn. In the next second he caught her, grappling her about the waist with strong, firm hands. He pulled her around, sending a dizzying thrill of anticipation through her. This is what they had denied all week.
One hand fisted in her hair, dragging her mouth up to his. Elijah’s lips closed over hers, demanding and possessive. He crushed her against the lip of the pool, his hand thrust between them, intimately exploring the heat between her legs.
Reagan shuddered. She clawed at his shoulders, moaning against his lips. Each heart-hammering, exquisite stroke of his fingers turned her mind to putty, her body to liquid heat. She soared with the stars and thick nighttime blackness, so staggeringly sweet it left her reeling. When the crest came, she rode it like a wave, tossed in the tumultuous fury of pleasure. Her cry was muffled beneath his kisses, her body a husk he’d expertly used.
But it wasn’t enough. She needed more of him, wanted to feel his fullness inside of her. When she could stand it no longer, she begged him to seal the fire between them.
The shock of his penetration made her bite down on her lip. She wanted the moment to last forever. The melding of their bodies and the heady mesh of naked flesh with moon-silvered water. She loved the scent of him so unmistakably young, male and virile. His strength was alarming, felt in every taut line of shoulder, back and thigh. She’d seen him naked before, but had never stopped to admire that nakedness. To touch his chest and scrape her nails across the tight, firm flesh of his body. To feel him shudder with pleasure, knowing she was the cause.
Sensation carried her beyond anything tangible. She floated on pleasure, on twined flesh and the escalating heat of their joining. His fingertips induced fire wherever they brushed her skin, his lips the shocking promise of greater passion. And then there was only ecstasy, so sudden and jarring, she practically sobbed with the release. Elijah shuddered and buried his face in her hair. His arms locked around her so tightly, she could barely breathe. She heard him inhale raggedly, his body wracked by the same jolting release. She felt hotly-driven passion snake from him, his tightly-bunched muscles slowly uncoiling.
Elijah drew away slightly to gaze down on her. His lashes were wet, tipped by pool water, his eyes as vivid as cracked glass. The heightened flush on his cheeks made a ruddy contrast against the long, loose curls of his hair. Overwhelmed by their lovemaking, Reagan raised one hand and touched his lips. Her knees felt wea
k and her legs trembled. How could she have found a man so caring, so utterly handsome and gifted?
Elijah pressed his brow to hers, cupping her face in both hands. He stroked his thumb across her cheek. “That was beautiful, Reagan. I could make love to you all night.”
Not I love you but I could make love to you.
She smiled shakily. In the span of a single heartbeat, she knew she would never feel for another man what she felt for Elijah. Here beneath the stars with the cool water lapping around them, she’d found something beautiful and unequaled. Something that made her heart sing and her mind soar with possibilities.
Elijah had found good sex.
Sobered by the realization, she pushed aside her feelings. What did she expect from a free-spirited, twenty-five-year-old? Certainly not commitment. She’d known from the start they would never share anything beyond a few fun days, possibly weeks. Companionship, cuddling and sex. It could be worse. She’d gone into it with her eyes open. She had no one to blame but herself when Elijah pulled the plug.
You’re too special to rush this, his voice echoed in her mind.
Special.
She shoved the thought aside. Determined not to let her emotions show, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Well, Dr. Cross. Maybe we should see how much stamina you have.”
Chapter 15
Elijah didn’t see Brody until the following morning at breakfast. Even then, he avoided him, preferring to keep company with Reagan, Alan and Livy. He was grateful for the distraction the Franklins provided as the four of them conversed over a breakfast of scrambled eggs, buttered toast and bacon. Alone with Reagan, his mind would have wandered to dangerous places.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off her, any more than he’d been able to keep his hands off her last night. Unwilling to risk lingering in the rooftop pool too long, Elijah had wrapped her in his shirt before they’d snuck half-dressed, dripping wet and giggling through the hallways to her room. Once there, he’d found a thick, fluffy towel in the bathroom to replace his damp shirt. He’d bundled her into the soft terry, but the mere act of drying her off had turned slow and erotic.