Intermittent bird calls punctuated the rhythmic background noise of crickets. Being alone with Lara in such a peaceful setting helped restore Mark’s mood. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him as they strolled among the trees, their only company an occasional squirrel.
The pavement came to an end too soon, splitting off into two dirt paths.
“Should we turn back?” he asked reluctantly.
She bit her lip. “My feet are starting to hurt a bit, but I don’t know if I’m ready to give all of this up. Let’s go a little further and see if there’s a clearing where we can sit for a few minutes.”
“Okay.”
They lucked out. The path they took came out of the woods and continued along the edge of a cornfield. To their left stood an area cleared to store large farm equipment. They found a huge flat cart and climbed up on it to rest.
He chose a seat by a bale of hay, leaning back against it.
She brushed off a spot next to him and sat down. “We’ll be covered with bits of straw after this. I hope the restaurant you have in mind for dinner isn’t too fancy.”
“Not at all. It’s something along the lines of an English pub.” Putting his arm around her shoulders, he snuggled up to her. Her body felt small and warm, and her hair smelled faintly floral. Holding her gave him a rush of pleasure. He felt like he didn’t have a care in the world.
She looked up into his eyes, smiling.
He leaned down and kissed her. Warm and soft, her lips hinted faintly of chocolate. “You taste sweet.”
“You do,” she said, laughing.
He bent to her mouth again, his senses waking up. The sensations he’d experienced the night before were fresh in his mind, and all of those feelings flooded back to him. Aching for her, he parted her lips with his tongue. Heat began to spread through his body.
She stretched both of her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. Sensing her hunger accelerated his. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they sank to the wooden floor of the cart.
With her mouth and her body pressed against his, his longing for her built quickly. Gasping for breath, he told her, “Lara, I want you...so much.”
“I want you,” she said with her mouth on his. Reaching down to his waistband, she undid the button.
He didn’t hesitate to return the favor. Both of them glanced around to make sure they were still alone, then scrambled out of their jeans. They lay next to each other, face to face.
“We probably shouldn’t waste any time,” she whispered, pressing her pelvis against him. “I sure hope no one wanders by.”
“Well, we haven’t seen anyone so far--but I don’t think we should procrastinate, either.”
The wood beneath them was hard, and he didn’t want to crush her against it. He rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him, her legs straddling his.
After a brief look of surprise she fell back into sync with him. Taking his cue for her to lead, she sowed kisses down his throat, sparking pleasure in him at each point of contact. Instinct took over and he pushed up against her. She reached down between their bodies, guiding him to her.
They both groaned. She was so warm, so liquid--like heaven.
He let his head fall back and lost himself in the rhythm of her movements, a willing slave to the pleasure she was giving him. The sweet pressure within him grew and grew.
Little whimpers coming from her throat prompted him to open his eyes again.
She met his gaze, her eyes full of passion, and his own emotions soared. Cupping her beautiful bottom with his palms, he soaked in the tension building between them. Her whimpers came faster and faster.
“Mark,” she gasped--and he felt her body contract around him with a series of breaking waves.
The sensations set off his own orgasm. He fell into shudders of almost unbearable pleasure. They reverberated through him, rocketing him to heights of ecstasy he could barely fathom.
“You’re amazing,” he said when she collapsed onto his chest. He kissed the top of her head, stroking her hair.
“Mmm.” She gave his body a squeeze. “We are.”
She was right, he thought. They made a good couple--and not only in a physical way. He really appreciated her open-mindedness in taking his views about her house to heart. Now that he understood more about her divorce, he could see why change had seemed so important to her.
As they lay catching their breath, he reflected on other ways they went well together. He thought they would encourage each other in their creative pursuits and maybe even spur each other to grow. He loved her art, and she had told him his writing had impressed her.
Wouldn’t it be fun for them to work on a creative project together?
“We’d better get dressed,” she said, lifting her head to look at him. “I’d rather not wait till we hear someone come crackling through the woods.”
“As much I would love to stay here in your arms, I have to admit you have a point.”
They scrambled back into their jeans and brushed hay from each other’s clothes and hair. Neither of them said much while walking back through the park, commenting only on some of the trees and the wildlife. Meanwhile Mark’s head spun with private thoughts about their new relationship. He wondered when he should introduce her to his parents. Too early to bring it up, he thought, but I bet Mom and Dad will love her.
The inn he’d chosen for dinner lived up to his memories. Somewhat off the beaten track, the restaurant appeared to be popular with the locals, but they didn’t have to wait for a table. A waitress seated them by a bay window that looked out on a country road. Sipping imported ales, they both ordered English pub specialties.
Between bites of shepherd’s pie and lamb curry, they exchanged stories about their families and growing up. He learned that she had a brother who lived on the West Coast, and he told her how close he was to his sister. Besides both coming from families with two children, they found out that they’d gone to the same college but different campuses.
“I had an idea earlier,” he confessed as they lingered over coffee and dessert, “but I’m not sure what you’ll think.”
“What sort of idea?” She met his gaze squarely, clearly open to listening. Their relationship certainly had turned around since they’d first met.
“I’ve always wanted to do a book about lost houses--ruined ones too far gone to be restored. My idea is to choose a collection of ruins, research them and re-create an image of what they once were.”
A soft smile pulled at her lips. “You’ll do a wonderful job. I love the concept.”
“Good--but that’s not all I was thinking about. Originally I only planned to include photos of the ruins and descriptions of what they looked like when they were first built. Today it occurred to me that the book would be a lot more powerful if you illustrated it.”
She blinked at him. “Are you serious?”
“Of course. I can’t think of a better way to show what
these houses once were, short of actually rebuilding them. Since that will never happen, this is the closest possible thing to bringing them back.”
“Do you realize that I don’t have any experience in book illustration?”
He laughed. “I’ve seen enough of your work to convince me you can do it. Say you will. Buildings like these are too intricate to capture completely with words. Most people reading my descriptions won’t be able to conjure up the sort of image that you could give them with your paints.”
She looked down into her coffee. “It’s tempting, but there are a lot of considerations. Before I could even think about agreeing, we’d have to discuss the number of illustrations, what sort of medium to use, the time frame for the work...and probably a hundred other details I can’t think of right now. Let me give the idea some thought and try to come up with a few suggestions, as well as some questions for you.”
“Great.” He grinned, more excited than he’d been about a project in years. The prospect of spending time wi
th her working on something so meaningful really appealed to him. “I couldn’t ask for more.”
He polished off his coffee in quiet satisfaction. Lara seemed reflective but happy, too.
During the drive back to Falls Borough they listened to music again but this time without much singing or talking. The amount of activity and lack of sleep over the last twenty-four hours had finally caught up with him. Content just being in Lara’s company, he concentrated on the road.
With so much to feel good about, the miles passed as quickly as they had that afternoon. The next thing he knew he was turning onto her street. Night had fallen, and her house loomed huge and dark. He felt a twinge of sadness at the prospect of leaving her. The clock on the dashboard read ten forty-five--getting late for a weeknight.
“I’m surprised you can stand being all alone in that big house,” he said.
“Sometimes I can’t.” She let out a laugh that sounded more nervous than amused. “In fact, right now I’m hoping you’ll come in and keep me company for awhile. I know it’s late, but maybe just for fifteen minutes...”
“I’d love to.”
He parked the car, and they went inside, where she offered him a nightcap. Sitting beside her on the big red couch felt cozier than anything else he could imagine at the moment. The day had been a busy one and, after a glass of wine, he could barely keep his eyes open.
“Let’s go to bed,” she said, startling him out of a doze. Getting up, she took his hand in hers.
He gave her a groggy smile. The idea sounded perfect.
With her to help him, he made his way upstairs.
Chapter 16
When Lara said good-bye to Mark the next morning, the weather had turned drizzly and dismal. As she watched him drive away, a wave of sadness washed over her. The time they’d spent together had been so perfect she hated to see it end.
When the car disappeared from sight, she turned back into the house, telling herself not to be silly. They had plans to get together again that night.
But it just seemed hard to believe, after all the tension between them, that things were going so well now.
She went to the studio, hoping to get several hours of painting in before lunch, but she couldn’t seem to shake off her mood. Her creative juices weren’t flowing, and the lack of good natural light made working a chore.
After about an hour, she put down her brush, deciding that her time could better be used doing something else.
As she cleaned up, she considered several errands she needed to run. To her, the most important was to revise her application for the building permit. Since she’d finally told Mark she’d changed her mind about the wall, she wanted to make it official.
She finished putting away her supplies, then got her purse and drove into town. Parking in the municipal lot, she crossed the street and climbed the steps in front of Town Hall.
“Lara Peale,” a feminine voice addressed her from above.
She looked up to see Mark’s old flame coming out of the entrance. Today she wore a brown pinstriped version of her trademark mini-suit. Lara had no desire to speak to her, but the woman was pretty much blocking her way.
“Hello, Karen,” she said, maneuvering around her.
“Hey, that’s too bad about your building permit being turned down,” the woman said behind her.
Lara turned around in confusion. “What?”
“Oh, didn’t you know?” She lifted an eyebrow. “I guess you haven’t received the notice yet. The zoning board rejected your application. They’re barring your addition of a studio, because of the commercial nature of the proposal.”
“Commercial?” She frowned. “My studio’s not commercial. It’s strictly for personal use.”
“The board seems to think that your plans indicate otherwise.”
“Where did they get that idea?” Wondering what had happened, Lara looked away from her, thinking. “Wait a minute. How did they even know that I use the room as a studio? I didn’t mention it in my application.”
“I guess you must have told someone.”
“I haven’t told anyone but...” She trailed off as her mind made the connections.
“Mark,” the other woman finished for her. “Yes, he’s very concerned about housing regulations. He’s a bit of a stickler, don’t you think?”
Lara met her gaze again. “Are you saying that he went to the board about my application?”
“Well, I’d hate to tell tales...but you did just say he was the only one you told, didn’t you?”
The smug look on the woman’s face made Lara want to slap her. Before temptation became too much, she brushed past her and ran back down the steps.
As she waited by the street for a break in traffic, she felt like her brain was caving in. Could Mark really have stooped so low--coming on to her while he sabotaged her plans behind her back? He wouldn’t do something like that, would he?
But he must have, she thought, an ache rising in her throat. The only other people she’d ever told about her plans were her closest friends and immediate family. None of them had connections to the zoning board. Given Mark’s involvement with the historical society, he probably did. Naturally, he’d know who to go to about blocking her permit.
Traffic cleared, and she hurried across to the parking lot. She hoped Karen wasn’t still watching her, but she refused to turn around and check. On top of Mark’s betrayal, she couldn’t bear to see that woman gloating.
As she got into the car, she thought back over the past few weeks. Right from the start, Mark had made it clear how strongly he opposed her plans. At one time she’d even suspected that some of his “friendly” gestures amounted to bribes--but in the end she’d believed what she wanted to believe. She should have seen this coming all along.
She started the ignition and pulled out of the lot, blinking back tears. How could she have been such an idiot? Once again her attraction for a man had made her too blind to see him for what he really was. Things had been the same with Ron. When it came to the opposite sex, she had no sense of judgment.
Nevertheless, her anger outstripped her self-reproach. When she reached the house, she ran inside. Finding the cordless phone in the kitchen, she punched in Mark’s number.
“Hello?” he answered after the first ring.
At the sound of his voice, she felt her eyes sting again. She managed to utter, “Hello.”
“Hey! I was just thinking about you. What are you up to?”
She swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Listen, Mark, I know about your going to the zoning board.” Her voice cracked with emotion.
“What do you mean?” He sounded truly confused. The man was a master of deceit.
“I heard that my permit’s been rejected,” she spat out, “because of the ‘commercial nature of the proposal.’ They don’t want me building a studio, which I never mentioned on my application, by the way. You were the only one I told about the studio--other than my closest friends, of course.”
For a long moment, he was silent.
“Lara...” he said finally, his voice now sounding strained, which she took as confirmation of his guilt. “It didn’t happen the way you think.”
She shook her head to herself. “I can’t believe this. While you were pretending to...to make peace with me, you went to them behind my back. You actually told them lies to make sure they’d turn down my application. In case you hadn’t noticed, my studio is not a commercial venture.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “Lara, I swear I didn’t go to the board. I have to admit that my big mouth is at the root of this mess, but it was an accident. I just let it slip about your studio in front of the wrong person.”
The intensity of his tone made him sound sincere--but she knew he couldn’t be.
She clenched her teeth. “And I’m supposed to believe that, knowing how you felt about the wall? You accidentally told someone on the zoning board that I was building a studio? And then you accidentally omitted the fact tha
t it’s strictly for personal use!”
“Let me explain how it happened--”
“Oh, I know how it happened.” She felt her lower lip quiver. “When you couldn’t bully me into changing my plans, you decided to pull some strings with your friends at Town Hall. This trick was on top of all the little ways you tried to butter me up--giving me the autographed book, helping me with the kitchen, even suggesting that I illustrate your next manuscript.”
“I never meant to--”
“Save it,” she snapped. “That wall must mean a lot to you. I hate to think how far you’d go to preserve it. I’m afraid to ask how much of the past week has been inspired by me and how much by my house.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous. The way I feel about you has nothing to do with--”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Mark.” Suddenly, all she wanted to do was hide. She didn’t want to let him see how much he’d mattered to her. Obviously she hadn’t even meant enough to him for him to be honest with her. “I don’t ever want to talk to you again.”
Pulling the cordless phone away from her ear, she pressed the “off” button. She wished she’d used the regular phone so she could have slammed the receiver down.
A pathetic, childlike sob escaped her, and she finally let her tears flow. Her arms went limp, and she dropped the phone on the floor. She couldn’t believe how stupid she’d been. In the last few days, she’d really believed their relationship had grown. Now she wondered how much of his behavior had been designed merely to get on her good side. Did he feel anything for her at all?
Slumping onto one of the dinette chairs, she cried until her watery nose forced her to get up for a tissue. In the bathroom mirror, a repulsive figure with a pink, puffy complexion stared back at her. Her head started to ache.
Opening up the medicine chest, she swung the reflection out of her view. She grabbed a bottle of pain reliever and went back to the kitchen for a glass of water.
While she stood at the tap, the phone rang in the hallway. She jumped--then let the call go until the answering machine picked up.
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