Something in the Water...

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Something in the Water... Page 21

by Jule McBride


  Ariel…” His lips were in her hair, kissing the damp strands, then sprinkling her cheeks until their mouths meshed, hovered, locked and held. He’d caught her bottom lip between his, and now he clung, nibbling with passionate hunger.

  “Why’d you come?” he whispered against her ear.

  Her voice was a slow, sensual purr that was asking for more. “I called your boss,” she said. “Actually, I had to do a little background checking while I was editing my piece—”

  “It was great—”

  “Thanks. But…” Her eyes met his. There was a lump in her throat; he could see her work hard, trying to swallow. “I missed seeing you in it, Rex. You should have been there.”

  “It killed me to see you on TV,” he admitted hoarsely, his lips skating over hers, the warmth coursing through him undeniable now. She was so close…so naked…so hot. His mouth suddenly covered hers in a kiss burning with their desire. “You looked so good,” he whispered, his voice catching. “I wanted to make love to you while I was watching it.”

  She blew out a shuddering breath. “You did?”

  Nodding, he glided his splayed hands down her sides, which were slick with water. “Wanted to touch you,” he said thickly, as if his tongue were suddenly too big for his mouth. “Here…” Lifting a hand, he gently plucked a nipple, rolling it slowly between a thumb and forefinger before squeezing her breast. “And here…” Flattening his hand, he trailed it slowly down her tummy until it teased her curls. “And here…” His hand curled to the lower contours, cupping her and flexing his fingers, his mouth falling to hers once more when he felt how her juices were flowing for him.

  “I…wound up telling your boss everything.”

  His eyes found hers. “Jessica?”

  “Sorry. Everything just kind of spilled out.”

  He understood that. “It’s okay, but…”

  “She told me where you’d gone.”

  His breath was in his throat. “We never talked,” he said simply.

  She shook her head, her hands cupping his shoulders to brace herself. “But we said a lot.”

  “I missed you,” he whispered.

  Words didn’t seem to matter. The heat they shared said it all. Slowly, he watched as she lifted a hand from his shoulder, brought it before his eyes, and with a flick of her wrist…a small foil packet appeared between her fingers.

  He couldn’t believe it. He shifted his gaze to hers.

  She was smiling back. “Now where’d that come from?” he asked.

  She shrugged in a way that lifted her breasts higher, as if for his eyes. “Magic,” she returned, her voice a scarcely heard rasp. “Trick of the family trade.” She chuckled. “Just in case I’d like to love a man to death, then bury him up on the mountain. You know,” she teased, “like all my other lovers.”

  “Believe me,” he promised. “I’d die with a smile on my face and know I’d already been to heaven.”

  Her hand found his and she began leading him toward the bank, out of the cool water and into heat as steamy as their bodies. “I brought a picnic lunch,” she said.

  And she had. Behind a copse of trees, a blanket lay open on the ground. He saw grapes, fruit, bananas and bread, and in an ice bucket, a bottle of champagne chilled, with two long-stemmed glasses beside it. It amazed him to realize that he’d been so lost in fantasies about her that he hadn’t even heard her approach.

  “But first,” she said, lowering herself to her knees.

  Reaching into a basket, she withdrew a slender silver Thermos and gingerly began pouring the contents into two Dixie cups. Whatever it was looked brown, murky and unappealing. He frowned as she handed him a cup.

  “As it turns out,” she explained, her hungry eyes drifting over him, “Great-gran bottled some water during the outbreak of seventy-seven. This is Matilda’s home-brewed love tea made with the springwater.”

  It was the last thing he’d expected her to say. And she was definitely the last person he’d expected to see here.

  His shoulders shook with laughter. “You’re not joking.”

  She shook her head, sobering. “I mean…we didn’t know whether what we’ve shared is real or not, right?”

  He shook his head, wanting to say that it hardly mattered now. She was so beautiful, like a wood nymph surrounded by abundant green vegetation, naked and on her knees, with her wet hair falling wildly around her shoulders.

  “If we drink this,” she assured. “Then we’ll know we’re infected.”

  He laughed. “It’ll be nice not to have that question hanging over our heads.” As he studied her, his heart felt like it was stretching to breaking. Suddenly, he said, “You forgive me?”

  She nodded slowly, then said, “But you can’t do it again. I won’t have lies between us.”

  “I didn’t know how to handle the situation,” he admitted.

  “You should have talked to me.”

  “I know that now.”

  She paused, struggling for the words. “It was you saying that you didn’t want to intervene in my family that hurt the most. I…” Color came into her cheeks and he could see the risk in her eyes, a sheen of what was either emotion or tears. “I…felt you were my family, Rex. Being with you, I felt like I’d really come home. And that the past just didn’t matter, because you were the future, but…”

  He hadn’t seemed to share the feelings. “Oh, Ariel,” he said, moving to set down the cup. “It’s not like that. I…”

  A finger on his lips silenced him, and he could only wish it was her mouth. “The tea,” she whispered. “Let’s just drink it. Okay? We don’t have antibodies. You checked, so…”

  Offering a quick nod, he lifted his cup in tandem with hers, and like her, kicked it back, downing the con tents. It was even worse than it had looked, as brackish and sour-tasting as a dirty river. They both came up sputtering.

  “Now we know we’re infected,” she managed to say on a hiccup.

  “What a guy won’t do for love,” he muttered.

  Suddenly, they were both laughing. The sound bubbled in the silence just as the nearby water. And then they were rolling, too…into each other’s arms, onto the blanket, readying themselves for the dive over the waterfall, into the heady, dark abyss. He found the condom, put it on, then he was on top of her.

  Catching her hands, he drew them over her head, his heart missing beats when he saw how open she was to him. Her blue eyes were bright; her breasts were bare and exposed. Shakily, he lowered a hand and pushed apart her thighs, feeling her flesh leap in his hands. Instinctively, he knew there would be tomorrows, and that they’d talk about all the intricacies of their relationship, catch up on pleasantries and decide where they’d meet in the future. But now…

  Angling his body inward, he edged closer. Suddenly, he arched, thrusting up…in…As slippery fire enveloped him, he watched her well-kissed lips slacken and those gorgeous eyes roll back. Fingers dug into his shoulders, urging him deeper, and only after he thrust fully into her and she’d cried out, did he pull slowly out…all the way out…then thrust again harder, deeper, faster.

  “I love you,” she whispered as she shattered.

  “Yes, love me, Ariel,” he whispered back, arching for all she had to give. “Promise you’ll love me.”

  She did then, in earnest, answering in ways words could never say, with her hips and lips and hands. It was a way of talking he understood and all he would ever need to hear. Love had entered his bloodstream, just as it had hers, and as he captured her mouth in a kiss, he felt it running as he knew it always would, like the spring in Bliss from its mysterious, eternal source, hot, wild and free.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-5433-0

  SOMETHING IN THE WATER…

  Copyright © 2006 by Julianne Moore.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, pho
tocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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