Finally he raised his head and admired her breasts through the nearly transparent cloth.
She watched his hungry silver eyes. “Is it your turn to think?”
“Yeah.”
“So what are you thinking?”
“I’m a great believer in symmetry . . .”
“Symmetry, huh? I’ve never heard it called that before. My turn now.”
Smiling with anticipation, she reached for the buttons on his shirt.
He caught her hands, biting them not quite gently from her palms to her fingertips. Then he stood up, pulling her to her feet as he did.
“Enough teasing, mink. I’m going to have a hell of a time walking as it is.”
“I wasn’t teasing.”
“I know. That’s what’s driving me crazy. Come on. I’ve got an idea.”
“Symmetry?”
“Yeah. Cool water and a hot mink.”
“Sounds like there’s something missing.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll come up with it.”
Laughing, she took a step, winced, and rubbed her hip. Sitting on the rock had stiffened her muscles.
“Now that I’m thinking again,” she said, “as a chair or a bed, granite leaves something to be desired.”
“Comfort?”
“Everything,” she retorted.
Despite the rapid beating of her heart and breaths that wanted to break into fragments, Shelley started picking up picnic items and stuffing them into the knapsack. Every movement spoke of her impatience to be off the rocky hillside and in Cain’s arms again.
Too late, she realized that the flashlight was at the bottom of the sack. She fished for the light, muttering tribal curses that made him laugh out loud.
“Hand it over to the thinker,” he said.
“The stinker?”
“Mink hunter, actually.”
“Doesn’t rhyme.”
“Minker does.”
She tossed the knapsack in the direction of his laughter. He caught a strap and rummaged inside until he felt the cold metal cylinder of the flashlight. He pulled it out.
“I’d claim a kiss as my finder’s fee,” he said in a deep voice, “but I don’t trust myself.”
Her lips parted even as she closed her eyes and tried not to see his hungry, beautiful mouth.
“That makes two of us who can’t be trusted,” he said, wrapping one of her hands around the flashlight. “Here. Turn something on besides me.”
“Promises, promises.”
“It’s a fact. Want me to prove it? But I’m warning you, you’ll be on the bottom.”
For a moment she was tempted. It showed clearly in the line of her body swaying toward him.
Then she turned around and began walking briskly toward her home.
Chapter Seventeen
Shelley hardly needed the flashlight to find her way back home. The moon had shed its bronze veil. Now it was a flat, silver-white circle pouring light over the land.
A surprising amount of moonlight filtered through the chaparral. Only at the bottom of the ravine was it completely dark, as though night had run down the hillside and pooled thickly, gathering strength to overcome the moon.
The sound of the waterfall curled down the dry ravine toward them, whispering of coolness. Along with moonlight and the murmur of water, the scent of flowers sifted through the chaparral.
Cain watched the night with every sense alert, heightened. He loved the wild places of the earth. The place Shelley had chosen for her home was one of them.
But she doesn’t see that, he thought. It’s all around her, a part of her, and she denies it.
He hoped she wouldn’t hurry to finish gilding his house. He didn’t know how long it would take her to realize that they were good for each other.
If she ever admitted it.
She will, he vowed. She has to. She can’t be so wild in my arms and still think of herself as tame.
Trying to talk to her just makes it worse. But there are other ways to get past her fear. She forgets all about tame and civilized when we make love.
Anticipation spread through him, speeding his heartbeat.
As they approached the edge of Shelley’s yard, the waterfall breathed moisture into the dry air. The pool rippled with silver invitations and silky promises.
“Hallelujah,” he said. “If only all hikes ended like this.”
With that he sank down on one of the long cushions that lined one edge of the pool. Laces raced through steel-rimmed holes as he untied his boots with flying fingers.
Before she had taken off more than her hiking shoes, he was shucking off his jeans and underwear. From the corner of his eye, he saw that she was unzipping her jeans. He began unbuttoning his own shirt. As soon as he was halfway done, he smiled wickedly. She was just stepping out of her jeans.
“Last one in does dishes for a week,” he said.
Shelley took two steps and hit the pool in a long, running dive. When she surfaced, she flipped hair out of her eyes and grinned up at him.
“Thanks,” she said cheerfully. “I hate doing dishes.”
“Wait a minute. You’re still wearing your blouse, among other things.”
“All you said was ‘last one in.’ You didn’t mention what I should or shouldn’t be wearing.”
He threw back his head and laughed, conceding the game to her.
Her smile widened in triumph. Blinking water from her eyes, she watched while he pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. Moonlight ran down his body like a ghostly caress. He was naked, utterly male, and completely at ease with it.
Cain had always been attractive to her. Now he was compelling. Without warning, desire shot through her, hot satin petals unfolding deep inside her body like a flower blooming in darkness.
She didn’t know how long she treaded water and simply looked at him. Finally she realized that he was sitting cross-legged on a cushion at the edge of the pool.
He was watching her. And he was smiling.
“How’s the water?” he asked.
“Water?”
She tried to focus on words. All she could think about was the moment when he would slide into her, filling her.
“Water,” he agreed. “You know, the stuff you’re trying to walk on.”
“Oh, that.”
“Yeah.”
“Water,” she said, looking at him.
“This water, to be precise.” He grinned. “Forget it. I’ll find out for myself.”
Though he was smiling at her, his arousal was vivid in the moonlight as he leaned forward far enough to dip his hand into the pool. The water and the air differed only in texture, not temperature, and the scent of flowers curled around him like a caress.
“Like you,” he said. “Warm. Silky. Perfect.”
Anticipation gathered heavily in him. Despite that, he didn’t move to get into the water. He needed to know that she, too, found a sensual Eden waiting to be explored in the pool, the night, the lover who wanted her in so many ways.
“Beautiful night,” he said, “beautiful water, beautiful woman.”
She treaded water with easy grace.
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re not paying any attention to me?” he asked.
“You couldn’t be more wrong,” she said huskily. For a few moments longer she memorized everything about the man sitting by the pool, as naked and potent as the night itself.
“Cain . . .”
“What is it, love?”
The endearment set off another wave of warmth in her, another petal unfolding deep inside her.
“Don’t you want to swim?” she asked wistfully.
“Do you?”
“Come in and find out.”
He straightened his legs and slid from the warm air into the equally warm pool, barely disturbing the surface of the water. Without warning, he pushed off from the side and knifed underwater toward her.
When his fingers wrapped around her ankles, she took a quick breath,
expecting to receive a dunking for staring at him so openly. Instead, his strong hands kneaded up her calves to her knees, then to her thighs, then to the wisp of nylon circling her hips. His fingers burrowed beneath the thin fabric of her panties and swept them down the length of her legs.
He surfaced a few inches away from Shelley, dangling her bikini underwear from his finger. He tossed the scrap of cloth onto the flagstones.
“You’re way overdressed for the occasion,” he said.
“I was in a hurry. Something about dishes, I think.”
“That was several minutes ago. You’re still mostly dressed.”
“Have you ever tried to undress while treading water?”
“Nope. I’ve got both feet on the ground.”
“Lucky you,” she retorted. “I’m in over my head.”
“No problem. I’m big enough for both of us. Hang on.”
He walked to where she was treading water. She braced herself on his shoulders.
“Better?” he asked.
“Much.”
“Can you breathe okay?”
“Sure.”
“I must be doing something wrong.”
He reached beneath the water and pulled her close. Her breath caught when she felt his hard, blunt flesh pressing between her thighs. The thought of holding him inside her body again made her shiver in pure anticipation.
“Enough swimming,” she said huskily. “Let’s go to bed.”
“I like waterbeds.”
“I don’t have one.”
“That’s what you think.”
His mouth closed over hers and his hard tongue searched her mouth intimately. His hands spread beneath her hips, caressing and supporting her at the same time. He bit her neck lightly, repeatedly, hungrily, until she arched into the caresses, demanding something less teasing.
“I’d unbutton your blouse,” he said, “but my hands are full right now.”
Slowly he flexed his fingers, curling them into the luxurious curve of her hips. Then he shifted her until her legs were wrapped around, his waist.
Her breath hesitated, broke, came out in a rush. Though he could have taken her, he didn’t. But he wanted to. She could feel his arousal brushing against her own soft, hungry flesh.
“You’re still wearing too much,” he said. “Undress for me.”
His voice was like his hands, low and urgent, caressing her. Then he saw the surprise on her face at his request. He smiled slowly.
“Another first?” he asked.
She nodded.
He sipped at her mouth with tiny kisses. His hands smoothed over the backs of her thighs and hips. There was both reassurance and arousal in his touch.
“It’s all right,” he whispered. “Let me see how beautiful you are wearing just moonlight.”
A combination of sensual excitement and shyness made Shelley’s hands tremble. Clumsily she found the first button on her blouse. She pulled at the smooth mother-of-pearl. It slid away from her fingertips. She captured and lost it again. Finally she managed to hang on to the slippery button long enough to worry it through the hole. The second button was even more difficult, for it was not only wet, it was completely underwater.
“I’m no good at this,” she said unhappily.
“Does this help?”
He walked a few steps backward, bringing both of them closer to the shallow end of the pool. As he moved, her body lifted a few more inches out of the water.
Frowning, she struggled with the button. He watched her gleaming, smooth fingers. When he couldn’t resist any longer, he bent and kissed her hands. It still wasn’t enough. He captured each finger in turn, learning every surface with his tongue.
The feel of Cain’s warm, slightly rough tongue sliding between her fingers dissolved Shelley. She dragged at breath but still couldn’t get enough. Lightheaded, she fought to free the button with one hand while he caressed and nibbled on the other.
His teeth closed on the pad of flesh at the base of her thumb. Desire shot through her.
“If you keep that up,” she said in a shaky voice, “I’ll be hours getting these damned buttons undone.”
“There’s no hurry. We have all night. Literally. The whole night.”
His voice was deep and certain. He lifted his head and looked at her eyes. Slowly his hands explored the sleek, flexed muscles of her thighs. Fingertips traced first her hips, then the cleft between. From there he slid down to incredible softness, and lingered.
She gasped as he skimmed the sensitive folds of flesh. She tried to say something, but could only say his name. Her eyes were black with desire, gleaming in the moonlight. Though she seemed to shiver, cold was the last thing on her mind. She was burning.
His breath quickened with each rippling response of her body to his touch.
“Undress for me,” he whispered.
Long fingers circled her, plucked delicately, and retreated. His eyes watched her, praising her, promising her pleasures she couldn’t imagine.
She forgot to be embarrassed or shy. Her fingers grabbed buttons and pushed them through buttonholes.
He watched her progress with frank hunger. His eyes were half closed, as sensual as his mouth. Waiting.
She didn’t know what he was waiting for. She didn’t even care. She just wanted to give it to him, whatever it was, and take from him what she needed more with every quickened beat of her heart.
Finally the last button was undone. The tails of the blouse floated out behind her hips. He kissed her collarbone and the hollow of her throat, the sleek curves of her neck and shoulders. As he caressed her, he eased farther backward into the shallow end of the pool.
With every slow step he took, less of her was concealed by the warm pool. He kissed each new inch of skin that was revealed. He didn’t stop walking until the surface of the water lapped at her sensitive nipples, teasing them into dark, tight peaks.
His teeth closed over the lacy edge of her bra once, twice. Then he released her.
“Almost there,” he said. “Just one more bit of clothing left.”
Cain lifted his head and looked into her eyes, waiting, silently asking that she finish undressing herself for him.
Old fears turned in her, old taunts, old mockeries of her as a woman. The bra was her last bit of covering, of armor, of safety.
And he was asking her to take it off.
Not with words, which she could have countered. He was asking her in silence, knowing exactly what he was doing. He wanted her to give herself to him in a way that she had given herself to no man, to trust him not to ridicule her.
Stop being such a coward, Shelley told herself. Cain won’t ridicule me. He saw all of me this afternoon and didn’t complain about fried eggs and other small blessings.
Yet she could no more stop herself from hesitating now than she could have prevented herself from freezing the first time he tried to touch her breast. Like fear, pain and humiliation were great teachers. Lessons learned from them bypassed the mind and went directly to the reflexes.
Clumsy again, her fingers moved to the clasp that lay between her breasts. Finally she managed to take hold of the small fastening and undo it. Wet lace clung to her breasts as though the clasp had never been released.
He looked into her eyes, waiting.
And then Shelley knew that she would have to remove the lace with her own hands, unmistakably offering herself to him.
Cain saw the instant of understanding in her eyes, felt it in the sudden, subtle tension of her body.
“I love you,” he said softly, waiting.
With fingers that shook, she peeled away the lace. A moment later, she bared herself to him in an intimacy that went beyond simple nakedness.
Strong hands shifted, lifting her until her breasts were free of the pool’s liquid embrace. Water ran silver down her body and back into the pool. A few drops remained behind, forming a fragile web of diamonds on each breast. Her nipples gleamed like miniature jeweled crowns.
&nb
sp; He tried to speak, to tell her how much her trust meant to him and how beautiful she was, but he had no words that touched the depth of his emotion. With aching slowness he lifted her higher.
As the warm support of the water vanished, she braced herself against the muscles of his upper arms. Breath held, she watched while his mouth came closer to her. His lips parted. The tip of his tongue licked diamond drops from each dark crown.
She felt unspeakably beautiful as she watched him caress her. The velvet of his tongue touched her sensitive nipples; the pale flash of his teeth caught and held her for more darting, probing caresses. Then he drew her into the heat of his mouth until she closed her eyes and made tiny rippling sounds of pleasure.
Finally he lifted his head, but instead of lowering her back into the pool, he brought his mouth once more to her breasts. He tasted them with gently savage nips that made her arch against him, wanting more, needing more, demanding it.
He watched her through half-closed eyes, savoring the sight of her abandoned to him in the moonlight, radiant with the wildness he could draw out of her depths.
She laced her fingers into his hair and tugged, drawing his mouth to her breast again.
“Love me,” she whispered.
He took her into his mouth and caressed her until both of them knew it wasn’t enough. When neither of them could wait any longer, he took her to the side of the pool and set her on one of the cushions.
Her blouse clung wetly to her arms and back. Her legs dangled on either side of him, sheathed in warm water from her toes to her knees. She watched him with wondering eyes. Her hands rubbed slowly along his arms and shoulders. It was obvious that she enjoyed the feel of his water-slicked skin stretched over muscles drawn taut with desire.
“Soft enough?” he asked. “I want you to be comfortable.”
She nodded, unable to speak.
“Good,” he said. “I’ve waited long enough for dessert.”
He turned his head to kiss her vulnerable inner thighs. Her breath caught and her body jerked. With a thick sound of anticipation, he gently sank his teeth into her smooth flesh. His mustache stroked against her skin as his hands parted her legs with lazy, caressing motions.
Where the Heart Is Page 22