He was behind her before she realized it, his warm hand curling around her hips and drawing her back against him. “Hmm, hallo,” he said in her ear. She laughed and bent her head. “Your hair is disgustingly wet.” Long fingers drew the damp length aside, and she felt his lips behind her ear. “You wouldn’t stand me up if I invited you to breakfast, would you?”
“Not this time.” The feel of his warm lips against the chilled skin of her neck, pulled thin over the bone of her skull, sent a shiver rippling over her body, and she crossed her arms.
“That’s not an entirely satisfactory answer,” he replied drily as he let her go and stepped back. “But it’ll have to do for now. Liz has everything in the dining room, ready when you are.”
They went in to the hot, freshly cooked meal, chairs pulled close together. Caprice picked at her toast and egg thoughtfully, fully aware of his side glances from time to time, and those dark, observing eyes. She pulled a piece of toast apart and popped a bit in her mouth. After she had swallowed, she said, “You said something last night about preferring to go to the lodge on weekends, instead of visiting family down here?”
“That’s right. I don’t have a lot in common with my family, aside from business, of course.” She sent him a quick, searching look, at which he smiled. “Oh, there’s nothing like strained relations between us, though that may change as soon as Jeffrey knows I’m seeing you.”
“I’ve given him no reason to hope,” she informed him rather caustically. “It’s his own foolishness.” Pierce’s expression turned dry, and she said then, contritely, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Good God, why not?” He reached for his coffee cup, long fingers on a slim yet powerful hand with slight, dark hairs silken on his wrist. “It’s certainly true enough. But I do happen to find it quite understandable.”
For a moment, she didn’t comprehend, and when she did, she had to turn her head rather sharply away. After finding her voice, she said quietly, “You’re no fool.”
“That remains to be seen.” A soft thread of sound, his reply.
She groped for a switch in conversation, and fell back on their previous subject. “So you don’t have much in common with your family?”
“They’re quite status conscious. Climbing high on the social ladder means a great deal to them, whereas I consider it to be a waste of time,” he explained simply. There was no censure or contempt in his voice, just a mere statement of fact.
“My mother’s like that,” she said, and brooded into her coffee with an outthrust lower lip.
“And you?” The query was light.
She looked up quickly and stared at his guarded expression. “I’ve never thought that considering myself better than someone else would be very admirable. I guess I don’t have enough self-esteem or arrogance.”
He reached out a careless hand and tucked a still-damp tendril of hair behind her ear. “I think I’m liking you more and more,” he told her, in tones of such surprise that she laughed aloud in spite of herself.
When they had finished, popped into the kitchen very quickly to give Liz their thanks, and shrugged on their coats, Pierce turned to her and asked, “So, what should we do today?”
She looked considerably startled and had to grope for an answer. “I don’t know. You didn’t have anything planned?”
“I meant to think of something last night, but I fell asleep,” he mourned, eyes sparkling.
She ducked her head and looked at the points of her boots. “I’d suggest a drive to the coast, but I did that yesterday. Of course, I didn’t actually go to the beaches, but I did drive in that direction.”
“How about taking a drive to the mountains today, then?” he asked, opening the front door. At the gust of chilly wind that touched her cheeks and still-damp hair, she was glad to have dressed so warmly.
She threw a smile over her shoulder at him. “That sounds wonderful.” It didn’t. It sounded okay. It even sounded nice. But what she found wonderful was the fact that she had the entire day ahead of her, and she was spending it with this man. And anything could happen tomorrow. Two whole days, a weekend, an eternity when there was nothing to look forward to. Two days without work or obligations for either of them. She savored the thought.
He slammed the front door behind them and put his hand, light and attentive, at her back as they strode for the Jaguar. She was pulsingly, excitingly aware of his presence beside her, so close, if she were to turn her head and look. But she didn’t, and as she rounded the rear of the car his hand fell away. If she’d paused to think of it, she would have assumed that he was simply moving to the driver’s side, but that thought was never carried to fruition. His hand, which had left her back, clasped her slim wrist, and as she took that one step away from him, he laughed and yanked her back.
Her whole body was whirled around, and she fell against his chest. Surprise thudded through her and immobilized her limbs for the time it took him to wrap his arms around her tightly. Then her head jerked back, and her mouth opened in a question that was never spoken. His black hair was wind tousled, his face creased with the lines of a wicked grin, his eyes dancing with gleeful purpose. He bent his head.
And kissed her, but it didn’t seem as simple as that. Oh, no, it wasn’t simple at all, the way he fastened those hungry, hard lips over hers and moved them until she slanted her head sideways and kissed him back. There was a world of complexity in the range of sensations inspired by that kiss: the cold of his lips, the warm cavity within, his piercing, probing tongue, his obvious, delighted excitement.
Something sounded deep in the back of her throat, and her knees went lax. Her bones were nothing but pure putty, her arms captured against his chest, her head falling back. He lifted his head and ran his glittering gaze over her flushed face.
She swallowed, blinking rapidly as she realized that her devastation must be written all over her face. Why so enthusiastically this morning, when last night he would barely touch her? She cleared her throat and thought that for pride’s sake she might try saying something witty and intelligent, so that he could see she was still in control of herself. “Well,” she said, and the word was faint.
“I wanted to do that last night,” he said, cocking his head as his eyes fell to her rose-flushed lips. “But hated to think what your mother would imagine if she’d walked into the hall and saw us.”
“Oh!” was her startled reply. Then, strongly, “Good God!”
“My sentiments exactly.” He loosed her slowly, almost reluctantly. “Now that we have that out of the way, are you ready to go?”
She sent a sharp look his way and found him smiling as though he were in love with the world. It sent a thrill running through her. “I think so,” she said sedately.
After settling into the luxurious car, they drove north and east to the Shenandoah National Park in the Blue Ridge. There they found a place to park, and wandered in relative quiet. He reached for, and received, her hand as they trudged along a well-beaten trail. The mountains, which had risen ahead of them like an incredibly huge giant, were heavy with a gray mantle of mist, obscuring places along the mountaintops. The only splashes of truly vivid color were the wildflowers scattered plentifully as though chucked in great handfuls by the brooding giant.
They didn’t meet anyone on the trail, though it was obviously well used, and perhaps the explanation for that was the continuingly graying sky and the heavy, warning quality to the air. After having strolled in some silence, she was startled to hear him speak. “You do realize that, if we stay out for much longer, we’re liable to get wet.”
She glanced at his jacket and then at her own. Both were made of a water-repellent material that nevertheless wouldn’t manage to keep them completely dry. She looked about her, reluctant to give up the peaceful intimacy. “I don’t care if you don’t.”
He slanted his head sideways and squinted at the sky, and told her, “I don’t make any promises.” As she smiled, he laid his arm firmly a
long her shoulders and drew her against his side, and they continued that way for some time. But the weather was against them, and Caprice was beginning to feel tired after a while anyway. Large splashes of water on their heads and shoulders convinced them that nature was not bluffing this time, and finally Pierce slowed to a halt and turned her around. “Time to head back,” he said down to her with a sigh. “I’m afraid we’ll probably end up quite wet anyway, since we’ve got some way to go. We stayed too long.”
Her eyes clung to his, dark violet and deep-centered black. She shook her head and smiled faintly. “No, we didn’t.”
He drew in a breath and stepped close, his eyelids falling heavy and his head coming down sideways. She put her arms around his neck willingly and raised her lips to his. Gentleness; leisurely, sensual gentleness building a slow-mounting blaze that no amount of rain could put out. Cold, cutting wind, failing to slip between their flush, straining bodies. With her head raised and eyes shut against the softly falling rain, she was conscious only of his warmth and his nearness, his caressing mouth, while blind wetness flattened her hair to her head and made her face slippery. She raised a hand to his cheek, resting cold fingers against that lean skin and muscle, feeling the small rivulet of water that ran from his temple down to his neck.
He lifted back his head slightly and stared down at her with widened, dark eyes. Both his hands came to her face, stroking at her with fingers as wet as her face, brushing the light, sodden hair from her forehead with a tenderness that made her catch her breath. She stared back, holding herself still for fear of breaking the spell of the moment, long lashes spiked with the rain.
He ran his eyes over her expression time and time again. “We’re crazy,” he muttered, the words sounding dazed. “We’re getting soaked. Come on, before one of us catches pneumonia.”
She placed her hand in the one he offered to her, and trudged along beside him. “You don’t usually catch pneumonia unless you’re exposed to a virus.”
“All right, all right.” His expression had changed, was normal, teasing. “A very bad cold, then.”
“Ugh, now you’re talking.”
Even hurrying, they were a good twenty minutes from the car, and when they reached it, she dithered beside the open passenger door that he held impatiently for her, mourning the damage she might do to the upholstery until, with an exasperated glare, he bundled her in so fast her head spun. “For heaven’s sake, it’s a car, isn’t it?” was his retort to her complaint.
They sat for some time, the heater running full blast, and talked of light, inconsequential things. He played with her fingers, now warm and nearly dry. To his quiet questions, she found herself telling him all about Ricky’s scrapes, her college days at Vassar, anything that came to mind. He was an attentive listener, flatteringly so, for he was quite intent, asking her searching, leading questions that drew from her explanations about herself that she’d once thought no one was interested in.
“What a strange, complex, contradictory character you are,” he said after a while, in such a way that she was quite touched. It was said with understanding and tolerance, and held a wealth of affection running as a strong underthread. The wet streams of water running off the car’s exterior gave them a private intimacy, warm, cozy.
Self-consciousness made her say laughingly, “We’ve talked a lot about me, but I want to talk about you.”
“Warm enough?” He let go of her hand and raised the back of his hand to her cheek, a lazy caress that sent her eyes to glowing.
“Fine, thanks.”
“Then why don’t we get back? You can take a long, hot bath, and I can go home to shower and change. Would you like to eat out?”
His head was back against the seat, showing his lean face and throat in sharp profile, the black hair still wet and clinging to the shape of his skull. The one brow she could see slashed strongly diagonal. She thought she could gaze at him forever. “That sounds nice,” she murmured, and yawned from the heat in the car. “Whatever you like.”
His well-molded lips pulled into a smile as though laughing at what she said, but he didn’t explain. Instead, he told her, “I’m not much in the mood for sharing you any more than I was this morning. Know anywhere we can go to avoid meeting people you’re acquainted with?”
She thought with a slight frown of her usual dining places while he started up the Jaguar. “I think anywhere in Richmond that’s decent will be a bit of a gamble on Saturday,” she then replied. “If you don’t mind a drive, we could go to Newport News.”
“Mmm,” was his only response for a few moments. Then, “Yes, that may be the way to go. You wouldn’t mind a late night?”
“No,” she said, and so it was settled.
Caprice dozed on the way back, curled up in her corner and oblivious of Pierce’s frequent, smiling glances. After being chilled, the warmth knocked her right out until he shook her shoulder. She raised her head and peered around with a hand-covered yawn, and saw that they were back at her home. With a laugh, he brushed aside her apologies and bent toward her for a brief, hard kiss before shooing her out of the car.
The air outside the Jaguar was even colder to her, and she shivered as she watched him reverse down the driveway and pull away with a wave of his hand.
She shuddered suddenly, right down to her toes, and ran for the front door. Inside, she strode quickly for the staircase, intent on having that bath he suggested, when Irene clicked into the hall from the den. “Oh, there you are, dear!” she said smilingly as she hurried toward Caprice, who reluctantly stopped. When she turned to her mother, she found Irene’s eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Tell me, did you have a good time? What a handsome man Pierce is! What did you do?”
“We went to Shenandoah National Park and got rained on,” she said, brief and dry. “Now, if you will excuse me, I’m soaking to the skin and want to clean up.”
Without waiting for a reply, she whirled and raced up the stairs with a feeling of escape. She burst into her room and made for the bathroom, but on second thought, turned right around and carefully locked the door behind her. It would be like her mother to come and ask questions when all she wanted to do was relax.
When Pierce had given her that quick kiss good-bye, he had told her he’d pick her up at five o’clock, which left her plenty of time to herself. She ran water so hot, at first it scalded. The warmth crept into her bones, and she sagged sideways in the tub, her eyelids falling shut. When she opened her eyes again, the water had cooled until it was tepid, and her neck ached on one side. She leaped out, dried and put up her hair for the evening, and began to dress.
She sheathed herself in silky black, from the severely simple dress to the sheer tights she slipped on to her slim legs and the sleek pumps she fitted her feet into. Her plain gold chains were her only adornment, and she spent an inordinate amount of time on her makeup until her eyes dominated a vibrant, glowing expression. She took her evening wrap from her wardrobe, checked the time and found herself quite early, shrugged and went downstairs for a drink.
She made herself a gin and tonic, correctly this time, and though she sipped it slowly, she was finished by the time it was barely ten to five. Ricky came into the den, and then her mother, and she endured their interested questions and her mother’s ceaseless speculations until she checked her watch and found the time to be five thirty. She frowned. He had had more than enough time to get back home and change, and then come back. He’d dropped her off at three that afternoon.
He was merely late. She shrugged, made herself another drink and prepared to leave any moment. By six, she was genuinely alarmed, and everyone else was too. She had just made up her mind to give the Langstons a call, even though she’d held off for so long as she was reluctant to talk to any of them, when the phone rang.
Even in her heels, she beat Ricky, Liz and Irene to the phone, gave herself a moment to catch her breath and to let it ring one more time (for dignity’s sake), and then serenely picked it up. “Hallo?” she sai
d, voice unruffled.
“Caprice, this is Pierce,” was the immediate reply. He sounded terse and tired. “I’m sorry. I would have called you before, but there’s been an accident—”
She gasped, harsh, sucking breath sounding clearly audible even over the phone, and felt her knees buckle. Even as Ricky’s arm snaked around her waist, she was catching herself against the table, strangling out, “Are—are you hurt?”
“God, no!” he exclaimed. And then, “Damn it, I’m sorry for frightening you like that. I wasn’t in the accident. It happened in front of me as I was on the way to pick you up. A pickup ran a red light and hit another car in the intersection, which in turn spun around and hit the car behind it.”
“But you’re all right?” she asked sharply. “You weren’t even hit, you said?”
“No, I’m fine. I’m at the hospital at the moment. It’s been a mess. In one of the cars a mother got hurt, and the two children needed someone to look after them. The father’s just come to get them, and I remembered to call you. I clean forgot.”
“Don’t worry about it. I quite understand. No, really, it’s all right.” Irene was gabbling in the background, and she restrained an urge to turn around and scream at her to shut up.
“I’m soaked from the knees down, I’m afraid. If you’d like, I can be there in about forty minutes, but I’ll have to change.”
She checked the time. “Do you think it’s worth it?” she asked, while knowing a sinking feeling inside. “By the time we reach Newport News, it would be eight, which isn’t that late, but there is the drive back. You must be exhausted.”
“Well,” he said, hesitating. “I’m not giving up on the evening, but perhaps we shouldn’t make the drive after all.”
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