Fever Cure
Page 10
“We’re here,” said Tom.
“I know that,” she shot back.
She was nervous again, he guessed. She probably wondered if he was about to try to seduce her when they got back to the Lodge. If he cared about her, he would leave her well alone, he told himself. He’d crossed the line by asking for a lift, and no matter how much he wanted her warm body in his arms, he’d decided he mustn’t hurt her.
Gravel crunched under the tyres as Keira brought the car to a halt. All she had to do was let him get out, lock the doors and drive off back to her safe, dull and unadventurous life—those were the words Alex had used when she’d refused to leave her job and friends to go to live in Dubai.
She pulled on the hand brake and gripped the wheel as raindrops chased each other down the windscreen. She heard Alex’s voice again as she’d stood in the hall of their house, frozen with shock and fear: “Get out!”
Her knuckles tightened as she remembered again the night he’d thrown her out into the street.
“Get out.”
“What?”
“Get out of the car, please—now.”
Realisation returned. It wasn’t Alex’s shout of rage, but Tom’s quiet and firm voice. His muddy arm reached across her and took the keys from the ignition. Shocked, she saw her knuckles were white against the wheel.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, still reeling from the shocking memories of Alex’s behaviour.
“Being a presumptuous bastard again—and looking after you,” Tom said.
“I don’t need looking after.”
“You’re cold, you’re wet and you’re shivering. Seriously, you need to get warm and dry for a while.”
She laughed. “And take my wet clothes off? I’ve heard that one before.”
“I won’t deny that would be very nice. But,” he added as he jangled her keys irritatingly, “you can keep them on if you want to, or I’ll loan you some dry stuff.” He opened his door. “Whatever. You’re getting out of this and coming into the Lodge. Now.”
She let her fingers relax and drop to her lap.
“Has anyone ever told you, you can be really bossy?”
“Privilege of rank,” he said, jumping from the car and narrowly avoiding a playful slap.
The sweet tang of wood smoke filled Keira’s nose as she stepped into the drawing room. A fire was already blazing in the hearth. She’d left her soaking boots and socks on the mat in the hall, and her feet were bare. The table lamps were on, even in the early afternoon. Behind her, she heard the door click shut. Tom had pulled off his running shoes and socks. He stood, barefoot in the doorway, eyes smiling as she dithered in the middle of the hall.
“Go and sit down. I’ll get us a coffee.”
“No. I’ll do it,” she said. Last time she’d made the drink, she’d ended up half naked. “Hadn’t you better get changed? You’ve trodden mud into the Axminster.”
“You’re probably right.” He glanced down, and Keira pointed to the watery trail that had made its way down his calf muscles and onto the thick pile. In fact, the only parts of him remotely clean were his feet. “The machine’s on the worktop in the kitchen. Make yourself a hot drink and try to keep warm while I shower. I’ll be as quick as I can, then I’ll sort you out.”
Sort her out? What did he mean by that? But there was no chance to ask, as he’d already disappeared into the hall. She was still wondering as she heard his heavy tread on the old staircase. The boards creaked above her head as he crossed the landing to his bedroom.
Already she could picture him, stripping off his shorts and running vest, and his underwear—if he was wearing any—for his shower.
She definitely didn’t want to sit down. Her jeans and fleece were damp, and she didn’t want to leave a wet mark on the chintz sofas, and the fire was so welcoming, burning bright in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls of the room. She stood with her back to it, trying to dry out her jeans. Tendrils of steam rose from the sodden denim, but it was hopeless. She needed a complete change of clothes, and there was only once place they could possibly come from. Though the prospect of being “sorted out” by Tom blew her mind.
A hot drink. That was the doctor’s other order. Plus, if possible, a bit of washing up to take her mind off things. No way would he catch her by surprise this time. Padding along the hall into the kitchen, she heard a clunk from the boiler and the distant hiss of water.
Tom must be taking a shower. Right now, she imagined him stepping under the stream of hot water ready to soap himself down. Starting to lather his thighs and legs and buttocks and… She grabbed the edge of the sink and told herself to get a grip.
After all her struggles over the past few weeks—the sleepless nights, the heart-to-hearts with Su—she really thought she’d managed to put him behind her. Perhaps she should just drive home right now, but she knew Tom deserved more than that. She wasn’t going to run out on him again. If there was any rejecting to do, she’d do it, and she’d do it face-to-face. A smile touched her lips. Or maybe face to chest, in Tom’s case; he was so tall.
At the back of the fridge, she found a half-empty packet of coffee. There wasn’t much else in there, she noted with a frown. A bottle of white wine; a carton of full-cream milk and a large slab of fillet steak. She pulled out the salad drawer to find a few leaves. She trotted back to the machine and pushed one of the chrome buttons on the front, waiting for it to gurgle into life. It didn’t behave, so she pushed another. It coughed, then glugged and burbled as it started to do its stuff. The scent of Arabica filled the air.
Now. Mugs—mugs would be good. She stood on tiptoes and hunted out two clean ones from one of the cupboards, and the image of Tom darted into her mind, or rather the sound and scent of him as he’d made his move that night after their dinner date. She relived in her mind the way he’d taken the china from her hand and led her into the drawing room. Laid her across his thighs and stripped her down to her knickers. Kissed and stroked and licked her most intimate places in a way that no man had ever done as he’d brought her to the hot, throbbing climax. It had been the mind-blowing sex she’d never had, and she’d run away from it and him because she was too afraid of the end result to just enjoy the moment.
The hiss of water stopped, and the ceiling creaked above her head. Tom would be stepping out of the shower now. Soon, he’d towel himself dry.
The coffee machine was silent, its work done.
Oh flip, her hands shook as she poured the scalding liquid into the mugs and splashed in a dash of milk for herself. Tom took his coffee black, he’d said. Bypassing the sitting room, she carried the coffee through to the hall, splish-splashing drips on the lovely carpet.
The mugs trembled in her hands as she placed her foot on the first step, trying not to spill any more. Tom needed a hot drink, she told herself. He needed warming up after being out in the cold and rain for such a very long time. And so did she. She couldn’t hold out any longer from Tom Carew, and damn the consequences.
Chapter Nine
“Tom!”
Keira paused on the little half landing and listened for a sound, a clue. Getting none, she called again, louder. “Tom!”
She reached the last flight of steps now and halted, ears straining. She couldn’t hear anything, no water or creaking floorboards, so she turned the corner and climbed the last few steps. Her stomach fluttered as her ears caught the noise of drawers opening and closing up above. A lamp clicked on in a room at the far end of the landing, light spilling out from a half-open door.
Forcing her leaden legs to move forward, she walked in the direction of the light. She was ready. She couldn’t hold back anymore. If Tom wanted her, he could have her. “A life lived in fear is only half lived”. That’s what Alex had flung at her when she’d said she wasn’t going with him, though Keira doubted he’d meant she should leave him and start a fling with another man.
Sometime in the past hour, between the park and the house, she’d m
ade her decision. Maybe it had been as Tom sat beside her on the bench and told her he wasn’t prepared to let her go that easily. Maybe it was when he’d joined in with the children’s games and given himself so generously to them. At some point today, she’d made the choice to leap into the chasm.
Forget tomorrow. Or as Tom would say: carpe diem.
She stopped outside the door. “Tom… I’ve brought you a coffee.” Her voice sounded weird.
She pushed the heavy door with her foot as more liquid slopped onto the carpet.
His bedroom was bigger, possibly, than her whole flat, and the ceilings were half as high again. A big sash window faced the door, the heavy brocade curtains held back by tasseled ties, framing the slate sky outside. She stifled a giggle that made the coffee spill. He obviously wasn’t bothered about neighbours.
And the bed. The sight of it made her legs almost buckle. It was a great ornate thing, who knew how old. Flanking it were two little tables with lamps sitting on them, each casting a warm pool of light on the heavy damask cover. On the opposite wall stood a vast walnut wardrobe and a gentleman’s chest of drawers, almost as tall as she was. Facing the chest, one hand in an open drawer, was the naked figure of Tom.
From his broad shoulders to his endless legs, he was all lean hardness and sinewy muscles. His powerful buttocks were a pale gold against the darker honey of his back. Curling its way across his lower back and bottom was a tattoo. A swirling pattern of whorls and curves that drew her eyes and fixed them on its strange, exotic beauty. She gripped the mugs tighter in her hands, ignoring the ache in her fingers. Half the coffee had gone by now, but Keira didn’t care.
As he turned around, she had to gulp down a tiny cry. Oh wow, if his rear view was amazing, the front was even better. His solid chest was sprinkled with curly hair, the narrow hips set on long, muscled legs. She wanted him so much, could feel by the way her nipples were already proud and pointing, demanding the touch of his fingers or the soft caress of his mouth.
“Keira…what?”
Tom was frozen to the spot with shock.
A wet, flushed Keira stood in front of him, her hair stuck to her head, her fleece and jeans damp and steaming. Tom’s heart flipped as he saw her fingers gripping a mug in each hand so tightly she might snap the handles off.
He felt a rush of protectiveness racing over him. She was in his bedroom gaping at him like he was the first naked man she’d ever seen. It was innocent and yet powerfully erotic.
How the hell was he supposed to walk away from this one?
He’d been so glad he’d had an excuse to come up here out of the way of temptation. He’d had every intention of showering, getting dressed and then locking himself in the kitchen while she did the same, but now he’d have to be a saint not to want her in his bed. His throat tightened. He was definitely no saint.
“Keira.”
The mention of her name sent a shiver through her body, and coffee tipped over the edge of the mugs and onto the carpet. It seemed to shake her out of her trance, and she drew in a breath sharply. “I’m so sorry, Tom. I…I’ve brought you a hot drink… Oh, look at the mess I’ve made!”
“It’s okay…” he said gently.
“Your lovely carpet, it’s all messy. I’ll get a cloth.”
“It’s fine. Stop worrying.”
“I didn’t know you were getting dressed. I should go.”
Tom wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not, and he didn’t care. Did she know she was driving him insane? He took the mugs, one by one, from her hand and put them on the bedside table. He didn’t think he could take this anymore.
He raked his hands through his wet hair, battling every impulse to take her. “Keira, go downstairs if you want, walk away if you need to, but please, do it now.”
Her face fell. “Do you want me to walk away?”
“What do you think? I want you to stay more than anything in the world, but I can’t give you what you deserve. I care about you but…”
Oh God, he felt a kick in the gut as he said it. Care sounded so lame, so pale a word for what he felt, what he was afraid to admit. What he wanted to say was: my life is mapped out for me and it can’t be changed. I don’t expect you to understand that.
Her fingers closed around his outstretched hand, and her eyes burned. “Tom, carpe diem.”
He couldn’t fight this anymore. She was like a bright and shining light in a dark world, and he needed her. “Are you absolutely certain that this is what you want? Only please, decide now, because I really can’t play the gentleman much longer.”
The raw edge to his voice shocked him. He sounded different, like the man he’d once been, a man who took risks again, risks that led to disaster.
“I don’t want you to be a gentleman.”
She’d lit the blue touch paper. Heaven help him, he was on his way to perdition.
As Tom drew her closer to his warm, hard, damp body, the thrill of danger and excitement made Keira’s head spin. His expression was tender and knowing at the same time, a heady combination that made her almost collapse.
“Do you want to drink this coffee now or after I’ve made love to you?” he whispered, his breath fluttering against her ear.
“After.”
The word was no more than a sigh as she pressed her lips to the damp skin of his bare chest and inhaled his freshly showered scent, all citrus soap and musky maleness.
“As you wish, but I’m warning you, it’s going to be some time.” He pulled her against the hardness between his thighs.
“You need a cold shower, Tom,” she whispered into his chest.
He tilted her chin up to look at him, and she saw him smiling down at her, his eyes sparkling with sensual promise. “No. It’s you that needs a shower.”
“Is that your professional opinion?”
“Absolutely. The classic treatment for hypothermia.”
“I don’t have hypothermia.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Keira, are you questioning my professional judgment again?”
She shook her head.
“I should bloody well hope not.”
As he began to undress her, she felt her body growing limp and weak. It felt so good to abandon control for once. A warm tide of pleasure flowed through her veins as he drew her sodden top out of her jeans and stripped the clinging fabric away from her stomach and breasts.
The top was over her head in a moment and on the floor, somewhere, she didn’t care where. Strong, capable fingers dealt swiftly with the fastening on her bra and slipped the straps off her shoulders, then peeled the clinging cotton from her breasts. He bent his head and touched a nipple with the tip of a pink tongue. Electric pleasure shot through her as his hands gripped her hips and he closed his mouth round the bud to suckle her.
Keira tipped her head back, desperate to cry out her pleasure. Her hands were on his back, his gilded skin like hard silk under her eager hands. His tongue rasped around her other nipple. He knelt before her, his tongue tracing a path around her navel, leaving a moist, warm trail of sensation. As he took down her jeans and knickers, she dug her nails into his shoulders and felt like weeping with desire.
Standing, he dragged her against his body, still warm and damp from the shower. Her breasts flattened against his hard chest, her legs pressed against his hair-roughened thighs, her eyes sought and devoured the tenderness and desire in his gaze.
Then he reached up a hand and skimmed her swollen lips with his thumb, and she melted. Why hadn’t she let herself do this before? Why had she wasted even one precious day, let alone weeks, when she could have tasted the joy of making love to Tom?
“You’re cold,” he murmured as a tremor shook her body. “Time for that shower.”
As she passed the black square of the window, she saw them both, completely naked, reflected against a stormy sky. In the recesses of her mind, she still knew she’d tried to avoid…this, but it didn’t matter now. Only being taken by him body and soul mattered now.
His hand closed around the shower control.
“Ready?”
The whoosh of water took her breath away. Hard spray needled down on her shoulders and head as Tom crushed her mouth in a fierce, greedy kiss. His tongue was inside her mouth and hers in his. His erection throbbed against her stomach, and his fingers clutched her buttocks, slipping on her slick skin. Was this the man she’d met in the churchyard? This man, bruising her mouth with his kisses, holding on to her like a drowning man? If this was being sorted out, he could do it forever…
“Turn round!” Shaking water out of his eyes, he called to her above the pounding jet. A cry of shock flew from her mouth as she felt the sudden chill of the tiles against her aching breasts. Her hands struggled for purchase on the smooth and slippery surface. Spray pounded onto her shoulder blades and back.
“Tom.” Her voice was muffled by the wall.
“I need to get you warm.”
Keira’s skin was on fire at the first long stroke of his hand along her back. The tang of citrus soap filled the cubicle. She licked water droplets from her lips, flattened her nipples against the tiles and groaned with pleasure.
His hands swooped lower, gliding over her spine, the hollow of her back, the cheeks of her bottom, working the soap into a slick foam. Desire racked her body.
Her nails scrabbled uselessly against the tiles as his fingers fluttered between her thighs, soaping the wet curls She throbbed as he touched her, and her brain begged…please touch me, please touch me there…
“Turn round,” he said.
The jet of water blinded her, filling her mouth and making her gasp for air. She ducked to one side as his fingers closed gently around her upper arms.
Tom soaped her stomach just as thoroughly as everywhere else, swirling foam into her navel with his finger. She fingered his hair, thinking how slick and black it was. Water plummeted down her neck, the rivulets of foam and water running over and around her breasts, and dripped off her nipples.