by Julie Caille
“That’s my sister, Nancy. She’s been out riding horses all morning.” Sharon pulled a pair of trays out from under the sink. “Let’s take this stuff out to the patio, then we can change into our suits.”
Ten minutes later, Alicia stood in Sharon’s bathroom, wondering why in the world she had bought a bikini. In the store, she had felt right about the suit, but now that she had it on again, it seemed too revealing, too bold. As she tied the sarong around her hips, she strove to breathe evenly, to rein in her stampeding emotions. She must be strong, cool, detached. This was just a cookout, and Luke was just a man.
Yet the butterflies in her stomach still fluttered when she stepped out onto the patio. Luke had just come out of the water and was sitting on the brick-lined pool edge. As usual, his eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, but his head lifted ever so slightly when he saw her, and his lean, hard, glistening body straightened just enough to suggest a reaction.
Sharon was already in the pool astride a purple-and-green plastic dragon. “There you are,” she called, waving her hand. “Come on in—the water’s almost ninety degrees. Oh, and help yourself to a drink. There’s beer and soda in the cooler.”
“Thanks, I will.” Affecting indifference to Luke’s scrutiny, Alicia bent and searched out a bottle of her favorite brand of light beer. After unscrewing the top, she lifted it to her lips and took a long swallow, enjoying the cool flow of liquid down her throat. From the corner of her eye, she saw that Luke’s head was still turned in her direction when she set down the bottle and removed the sarong. Pride made her give him a blithe wave as she walked over to the steps at the far end of the pool, where the two boys were playing with diving sticks. “Hi, there,” she said to Brian, as his coppery head bobbed up a few feet away.
The child flashed her a toothy smile. “Hi-bye,” he responded and dived again, his small feet kicking water straight into her face.
“Come on down here, Alicia,” Luke suggested in a lazy voice. “We banished the kids to the shallow end for a while. They splash.” His pectoral muscles flexed as he reached for his drink.
“So I see,” she said ruefully. Circumventing the kids, she waded into the water and swam over to the deep end. The best way to handle this was to pretend that she and Luke had never been anything more than friends. Unfortunately, she suspected that such a pretense would prove difficult.
Luke slid back into the water and came up beside her. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he said softly. “Maybe a little too warm, but—”
“Hello, everybodeeee!” interrupted a sunny female voice. “Sorry I’m late!”
Braced for her first glimpse of the California Babe, Alicia looked around. Immediately her heart sank. She’d half expected it to be the woman with the violet-blue eyes, but it wasn’t. Nevertheless, this was just as bad.
If she had considered her own bathing suit skimpy, Nancy’s was almost indecent. No, that wasn’t quite true. The crucial areas were covered.
Barely.
Alicia had never seen anything like it outside of a magazine. Not only did Nancy have the bleached blond hair and clean, pure features of the stereotypical surfer girl, but her figure was sensational. The tiny, crocheted triangles of material stretched across her voluminous breasts did little more than hide her nipples. As for the rest of the bikini, it was half the size of Alicia’s.
“I told you so,” Luke murmured in her ear.
While Sharon called out introductions from her dragon’s throne, Nancy bounced over to the point of the pool edge closest to Luke. “Hi, Alicia, nice to meet you. Luke, honey, I need you to put some lotion on my back. I gotta watch out for those ultraviolet rays.”
Alicia felt a prick of annoyance as Luke hefted himself from the water and dried his hands. She didn’t quite see why he had to perform this service. Though Jim was busy with the barbecue, Michael lay sprawled on a towel not ten feet away.
As if reading her thoughts, Nancy flashed her an artless smile. “I can’t ask Mike. He hates getting this slime all over his hands. And I know—” she playfully removed Luke’s sunglasses and set them on her own nose “—that Luke doesn’t mind.”
Gritting her teeth, Alicia kicked her way over to the opposite side of the pool while Luke squirted lotion onto Nancy’s shapely back. As he started to rub, the blonde shut her eyes and gave a sensuous wriggle. “Mmm, that feels wonderful,” she purred. “Luke, honey, you do that soooo well. I just love a man with good hands.”
To Alicia’s disgust, Luke seemed amused. “Shameless hussy,” she heard him drawl in Nancy’s ear. Without looking up from his fascinating occupation, he added more loudly, “How about you, Alicia? Do you have sunscreen on?”
Alicia gaped at him, unable to believe her ears. Could he possibly believe she would allow him to do that to her? “I’ll put some on later,” she answered, barely keeping her temper in check. Turning toward Sharon, she smiled and asked, “Got any more toys?” with a gaiety designed to cover her annoyance.
Sharon yielded the dragon with a laugh. “The boys put a hole in our crocodile, so this is all we have left. Go ahead, try him. We call him Puff.”
Alicia surveyed Puff, unable to recall a single instance during her childhood when she had had a chance to play with a float. Neither of her parents could swim and both disliked water sports, so family vacations had centered on academics and learning. Alicia had always longed to go where there was water, but instead she and Caroline had been dragged to every museum, battlefield and historical monument the northeast could offer. Of course, Caroline had been temperamentally suited to it all, the perfect child for her erudite parents, but Alicia had been silently resentful. She had always been odd man out, the brooding rebel, the child who couldn’t please.
Determined to make up for lost fun, she placed one hand on the dragon’s neck and the other on his flank. One, two, three and up...and back down with inglorious rapidity as the dragon flipped over and landed on her head.
The two six-year-olds howled with laughter. “Oh, Aunt Alicia, that’s not how you do it!”
Alicia wiped water from her eyes and pretended to glare at her nephew. “Okay, smarty, then how?”
“First you have to take him over to the steps.”
Following Ronnie’s instructions, Alicia managed to gain a precarious perch on the dragon. Hunched over Puff’s neck, she paddled triumphantly to the center of the pool, only to discover there was a trick to balancing. The moment she sat upright, Puff dumped her again, this time in deep water.
When she bobbed to the surface, coughing from the unexpected dunking, a strong arm looped around her waist. “Are you all right?” Luke asked. Seemingly without effort, he held her against him, his other arm treading water while his powerful legs kicked hard enough to keep them both afloat.
“Of course,” she snapped, and coughed again. “I just got water up my nose, that’s all.”
Ignoring her efforts to push him away, he hauled her over to the side, his arm like a steel band beneath her breasts. “Time for sunscreen,” he murmured. “I’d hate to see all that gorgeous skin get fried.”
“No.” Alicia gripped the pool edge, intensely aware of all the places where their bodies touched. “I’ll put some on myself in a few minutes,” she told him, her voice as frosty as the contents of Sharon’s cooler.
Knowing she must seem unreasonable, she looked around and caught Sharon watching them with an interested expression. At least Nancy had wandered over to the grill, presumably to flirt with her brother-in-law. The blonde, Alicia noticed, still wore Luke’s sunglasses.
Luke hoisted himself out of the water and sat staring down at her, his jaw set with clear disapproval. “This Texas sun is nothing to toy with, honeybun.” Softly, so no one else could hear, he added, “And most of you happens to be exposed to it.”
Knowing he was right, Alicia swam to the deep end and climbed out. As she walked across the pea gravel, the scorching afternoon sun beat mercilessly upon her back. Why was she behaving like a quivering te
enager? So what if Luke touched her? She wouldn’t allow herself to respond because, quite simply, it wasn’t worth it. She’d had enough pain without adding to it.
Toweling off, Alicia peeked at him, feeling light-headed and cornered, as though some invisible force was thrusting her toward the inevitable. How could she pretend he meant nothing to her? It wasn’t true. He represented so much—past hopes and shattered dreams and nameless longings that had haunted her even when she’d been married to another man.
As luck would have it, Luke chose that moment to look up, and for a frozen moment their gazes locked in a connection as potent as the fiercest kiss. Then Sharon touched her arm and the spell broke.
“You really should do as he says,” the other woman whispered. “With that fair skin, you could get a wicked burn. We put some on the kids before you came out.”
Alicia blinked with dismay. How could she have forgotten Ronnie? Of course he would burn; he was as fair as she was. Stricken with guilt, she watched him leaping and shrieking in the shallow water, his small face innocent and, at least for the moment, free of sorrow.
“Don’t feel bad,” Sharon added kindly. “You’re just not used to looking out for kids, that’s all. It’ll come.”
Alicia nodded. Feeling subdued, she went over to Luke. “Are you sure Nancy won’t mind if I use some of that?”
“She doesn’t care. Come on, sit down.”
Alicia complied, and for a short while, time rolled back and the setting blurred. She was in New Jersey on a hot Saturday in July, one of the many weekends Luke had made the trip from Connecticut to visit her. Eager for each other’s company, they had spread beach towels on the grass in the backyard, beyond sight of the house in the most isolated spot they could find.
She shut her eyes, remembering how Luke had massaged coconut oil over every part of her body that hadn’t been covered by her modest two-piece swimsuit. Eventually she had daringly unfastened the top to her suit. With love in her heart, she had let him touch her breasts for the first time, watching the way his eyes grew dark and hungry, reveling in the discovery of her own female power. Soon he had grown bolder. He had slipped his fingers inside her suit bottom and stroked her just long enough to make her wet and aching. He had wanted her to take it off, but of course she had refused.
Now she sat facing the diving board, wondering if he remembered that day. The muscles in her back were rigid as he spread the warm puddle of lotion across her shoulder blades in unhurried circles, gliding over her sensitized flesh as though he had a right to touch her. As though she was his woman, which of course she could never be.
Yet he made no effort to prolong the moment. Once finished, he practically shoved the bottle into her hand in his hurry to escape her company. And then he was doing laps, up and down the length of the pool, his arms and legs thrashing as though he were in an Olympic race.
For Luke, it was therapy. Therapy and salvation. Alicia in a bikini was torture enough, but touching her had been excruciating. He knew it was his own fault, but he’d wanted to test himself, to prove he could resist her this time.
Well, he’d blown it. Badly.
Forget her, forget her, forget her. The words hammered in his brain, synchronized with the rhythm of his pumping limbs. But she was so beautiful, so provocative—even more so than she had been ten years ago. The sight of her had undone him, the feel of her skin, its softness and texture. Her musky female scent had called to him, pulling him into a net of his own making. Damn, damn, damn. He wished the water were colder. A lot colder.
When he emerged from the pool, Jim was loading hamburgers and barbecued brisket onto a platter and Sharon was beckoning him to come eat. In the ensuing confusion, he ended up sitting with Nancy, who sent him one of her sultry smiles and offered him a beer.
Luke purposely avoided looking in Alicia’s direction; instead his gaze fixed on the two children sitting cross-legged on a beach towel. Ketchup dripped down Ronnie’s fingers as he held his hamburger close to his chest, his blond head bent toward Brian as the other child giggled something in his ear.
Watching Ronnie’s face, he thought of the little boy’s terror the other night. To Luke’s knowledge, the dreams had only started since the accident, just as his own had started after his mother had died. He thought of the dreams he had had as a six-year-old orphan, nightmarish excursions into an eerie, mist-filled world, a world where his dead mother walked, where whispering voices commanded him to kiss the cold slab of her cheek. And, remembering, he shuddered.
He still believed he had been right to keep Ronnie away from the funeral, but Alicia’s assertion that it might have helped the kid work through his pain had been nagging at him. His own nightmares had tapered off gradually, and he had survived. But it hadn’t been easy. Of course, he hadn’t had a loving aunt or uncle to help him adjust. He hadn’t had anybody.
“A penny for those thoughts of yours.”
He turned his head to find Nancy studying him.
“Only a penny?” he quipped. He reached for a pickle, reflecting that it would be a long, cold day in hell before he took Nancy into his confidence. He never took anyone into his confidence. Except, sometimes, Joey.
Nancy angled her head toward Alicia, who sat beside Sharon, a short distance away. “How come she never came to Houston before?”
“She’s been busy with her career.”
Looking thoughtful, Nancy took a bite of potato salad and chewed it. “So are you going to keep Ronnie or is she?”
Luke shrugged. Trust Nancy to drive right to the crux of the matter. “That’s still under discussion.”
Nancy fell silent, and after a few seconds, he inquired about her plans for graduate school. As Nancy rambled on about the courses she’d be taking, his eyes drifted back to Alicia. God, never in his wildest dreams had he thought she’d buy a suit like that. She looked fantastic. She also hadn’t glanced his way once since he’d come out of the water. In fact, she seemed oblivious to his presence.
But that was what he wanted, wasn’t it? What he expected of her? Except that he wasn’t indifferent, not by a long shot. Yes, he could pretend, but he was ready to admit that it was probably beyond his capacity to be indifferent to Alicia Brant. Not that he had any intention of letting her know it.
A little while later, he noticed she had disappeared, but he assumed she had gone to the powder room. Yet as the minutes passed, he grew uneasy. Lighthearted conversation floated around him while he waited for her to return.
When she didn’t, he set down his beer and went to look for her. Listening intently, he stopped in the kitchen, but all he heard were the voices drifting in from outside. Then, just as he was about to step into the living room, he heard a low sound, like a repressed sob.
He found her in the front foyer. Her back faced him, and her head was bent as though the weight of the world’s problems rested on her slim, bare shoulders.
“What’s the matter, Alicia?”
She started and spun around, but at least this time she didn’t accuse him of sneaking up on her.
“Luke.” She cleared her throat, one finger flying up to touch the outside edge of her eye. “Nothing’s the matter.” She recovered quickly, and if her voice had not held that faint, betraying quiver, he almost might have believed her.
“You were crying,” he said as he moved closer.
“Not really. I was just thinking about Caroline and Richard. I mean, here we are at a party, swimming and laughing and eating and—” Her lovely face crumpled. “And I suddenly felt so disloyal, so treacherous.”
“You’re not being disloyal.” He reached out and smoothed back a damp curl that had fallen over her brow. “You’ve got to go on living your life. That’s what Caroline would have wanted.” Platitudes, he thought in frustration. Yet what else could he say? And who was he to offer comfort?
“I don’t know what Caroline would have wanted,” Alicia said brokenly. “I never really understood her.” She blinked hard, her eyes luminous with tea
rs. “She was so different from me, Luke. My sister was s-so perfect.”
“The hell she was.” Dismissing the statement as foolishness, he caught hold of her shoulders. “She was as human as the rest of us. Don’t make her into a saint just because she’s gone.”
Alicia’s head shook. “You don’t understand.” As if in invitation, she swayed toward him, her head tilting back, her hands coming out to rest upon his naked chest.
A fire ignited inside him, sheeting through his gut in a hot, shimmering wave. Unable to move, to tear himself away, he could only stare mindlessly down at the fullness of her lower lip. Such a sweet, kissable, stubborn mouth. He’d been fascinated by its shape ever since the first time he’d set eyes on her.
“Please,” she whispered. “Someone might come.”
“Let them,” he said hoarsely. His control stretched to its limit as he stood there, waiting for her to tell him to take his hands off her and go away. She hadn’t wanted him to kiss her the last time, so why should now be any different?
Damn it, why didn’t she say it? She had always been an enigma to him. Even now, when he should have been able to figure her out, he wasn’t sure what it was that she wanted. On the other hand, he didn’t much care, because her time had run out. Whether she liked it or not, he was going to kiss her again. One more time, he promised himself. Just to get her out of his system.
As soon as their lips touched, he realized the magnitude of his mistake. Man, oh, man. Desire slammed through him with the force of a knockout punch, spinning his brain so that he forgot where he was, forgot everything but Alicia. This time he sure wasn’t kissing a statue. She was warm and willing and alive in his arms, as eager and responsive as a man could want. Her hair, her taste, her voluptuous female scent—it all captured him, held him in thrall.
He drew her against him, hard, so that every inch of their bodies touched. His hands went around to cup her bottom, while his tongue ran up the line of her jaw to her ear, nipping gently before returning to cover her mouth. The delicious feel of her breasts crushed against him brought back old memories, old yearnings that had never really left him. She responded as though she remembered them, too, her tongue stroking against his with the same fervor, the same delirium.