“No!” he said. “I want to look at you. I want to fill my gaze with your beauty.”
Hunter slowly stroked her breasts—one and then the other. Then he left them, letting his fingers trail down her ribs. She moved against his hand. He let it slide up through the valley between her breasts, then on to her shoulders and her slender throat. All the while, the sunlight played over her, gilding her burning flesh.
Finally—her body relaxed—but tingling, Cluney closed her eyes and sighed. And then she cried out softly with surprise as Hunter leaned down and touched one nipple with his tongue. The hot, moist contact was electric.
Cluney’s first impulse was to pull away, but his arm was clamped around her waist. She could only sit where she was and let him do as he pleased. She needn’t try to fight him since there was no hiding how much he was pleasing her. Her breath came in ragged bursts as he continued stroking her with his tongue. Then his mouth closed over her, sucking at her nipple, torturing it tenderly with little nips of his teeth. Cluney felt as if she were melting. Soon she would be nothing but a pool of golden sunshine on the blue-and-white coverlet.
Satisfied that he had given sufficient attention to her right breast, Hunter moved to her left. A new shock wave raged through Cluney. She trembled all over and tried so hard not to moan aloud. But it was no use. As he lazily tongued her nipple, he worked at her gown, easing it down over her hips. A moment later, he pressed his palm against her smooth belly, making her sit up straighter, making her breasts jut forward with even more pride and thrust.
“Hunter, what are you doing to me?” Cluney moaned. “You’re making me want things no decent woman should even think about.”
He chuckled softly. “You needn’t be decent with me. I’m your husband, remember? And I’m starved for you, and I want you to be starved for me. I don’t want my wife to be one of those prissy women who only allows her husband his due—the kind with a dry mouth and tight thighs. No, Larissa, it would please me no end to have you beg for what I so long to give you as a gift. lie down here beside me, darling. Let me make you beg.”
Silence fell in the room. Hunter’s ragged breathing and Cluney’s pounding heart were the only sounds. In some other part of the house—what seemed another world—Cluney could hear men talking, pans clanging in the kitchen, footsteps, a slamming door. But it seemed as if she and Hunter existed in a charged realm all their own. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her, yet she didn’t want it to stop. Hunter Breckinridge was, indeed, an extraordinary man. And, as he kept reminding her, he was her husband.
His hand, playing at her breast again, brought her out of her reverie. She pulled away and closed her bodice.
“Darling?” he said softly. “Won’t you lie with me?”
“I can’t,” Cluney admitted with regret. “I want to, but I can’t right now. Not with everyone moving about just on the other side of the door. I’d be too nervous. I’d spoil everything.”
He laughed softly. “If you plan to keep putting me off to give me something to live for…”
“No!” Cluney cried. “It’s the truth, Hunter. We just can’t do this now.”
“Tonight, then? Will you come to me and share my bed? Lie with me as my wife should?”
His words stunned Cluney. Of course, if she was really his wife, she should sleep with him. But what would Mary Renfro say?
“I’ll have to give Mary some sort of explanation. She thinks I was only pretending to be your wife. She has no idea …”
Hunter reached out and turned Cluney to look at him. He smiled. “You’ll find a way to explain to her, won’t you?”
The pleading in his dark eyes mesmerized her. “Yes,” she answered. “I’ll find a way. I must!”
For several charged moments, Cluney and Hunter could only stare at each other—she, realizing that she had committed herself unconditionally, while he could think only of the woman before him and what pleasures she promised him once the sun had set.
But sounds in the hallway soon broke the spell. Cluney quickly slipped Lorettie’s gown back into place and fastened the buttons. She knew her face was flushed. She probably looked as guilty as hell, but there was no help for that. She had herself back in order by the time Mary knocked at the door.
“It’s way past noon, Major. Aren’t you wanting something?”
He gave Cluney a leering grin and said softly, “How did she guess?”
“Oh, hush that!” Cluney warned playfully. “You let me handle Mary, now, you hear?”
“What are you going to tell her?”
Cluney rolled her eyes. “Something so crazy that no one in his right mind would believe it. But I think it just might be the truth.”
When Cluney turned to head for the door, Hunter said, “You’re leaving me?”
Cluney couldn’t help but laugh at the pitiful tone in his voice. “I have to go talk to Mary now. I’ll send Free in. He’ll sit with you this afternoon.”
“You’ll be gone that long?”
“Hunter, I have things to do.”
“What, besides talk to Mary?”
She held out the skirt of her sorry dress. “For one thing, I need to find some more clothes. For another, if you want me to sleep in your bed tonight, I’m going to have to clean up a bit. I’m sure I must smell worse than your old hound.”
Hunter grinned boyishly. “Well, I suppose I can do without you for a few hours, if you’ll be getting ready for tonight.” He rubbed a hand over his bristly face. “I’ll get that shave before you return.”
Cluney was halfway out of the door when he called her again.
“Larissa?”
“Yes, Hunter?”
“I love you.”
She smiled and felt her heart dance in her breast.
“Until tonight,” she said softly.
“And after tonight,” Hunter answered, “we have the rest of eternity to share.”
For some unaccountable reason, his mention of eternity made Cluney tremble with a sense of dread. But she managed a smile for her “husband” nevertheless.
Chapter Eleven
Cluney came out of Hunter’s room just in time to catch Mary between errands. She had to tell Mary something before tonight, and there was no time like the present. She did dread it, though.
“How’s the major doing?” Mary asked.
“He’s resting right now,” Cluney answered. “But I think he’s feeling better.”
“That’s good,” the woman said distractedly.
She was about to hurry on to her next task when Cluney caught her arm. “Mary, I need to talk to you about something important.”
“What’s on your mind? Is the major feeling so much better that he’s starting to give you problems? I know how men are—when they’re awful sick, they’re like babies, but when they’re just kindly sick, they can be a peck of trouble.”
“No, Hunter’s being a perfect patient.”
Mary cocked an eyebrow when Cluney called the major by his first name.
“Why don’t we sit down?” Cluney said, motioning toward the rough chairs by the fireplace in the main room. “You look like you could use the rest while we talk.”
“Whatever,” Mary said, glancing about before she took a seat as if something far more important than Cluney’s problem occupied her mind.
When they were settled across from each other, Cluney jumped right in. “Mary, I have a confession to make. When I came here, you thought I was your Cousin Tilda’s daughter. For all I knew then, I could have been. You see, I had no idea who I really was. I’d lost my memory temporarily.”
“My, land!” Mary exclaimed. “You poor child! Took a fall and bumped your head, did you?”
Cluney smiled brightly so Mary wouldn’t worry needlessly about her condition. “Well, I’m not sure exactly what happened, but I’m sure I’m going to be all right now. You see, Major Breckinridge—that is, Hunter—remembers me. He says I really
am his wife, Larissa.”
Mary eyed Cluney skeptically. “Go on with you!”
“No, it’s true, Mary. See this necklace? Hunter gave it to me years ago.”
Mary was still unconvinced. “You remember that, do you? Or did he just say it was so? Now, Cluney, that poor man has been through a lot. And he’s been pining away for his wife ever since Free brought him here. Betwixt the pain and the laudanum, he’s likely to believe anything and try to make you believe the same. Do you remember him?”
Cluney had to confess that she didn’t. “But I’m sure it’s the truth, Mary. Awhile ago, I said something to Hunter about when his dog, Trooper, was born. I remember that, Mary, truly I do! I can recall it as plain as something that happened yesterday. How could I know that, if I’m not Larissa?”
“Well, iffen it’s the truth, then I’m mighty pleased for both of you. But…”
“No buts, Mary!” Cluney answered emphatically. “It is true! I may not remember the man, but I certainly recall my love for my husband. And once we’ve been together, I’m sure everything will come back to me.”
“Once you’ve been together?” Mary repeated suspiciously.
Cluney bit her bottom lip, embarrassed. She nodded silently.
“You can’t mean that man—sick as he is—figures on doing his husbandly duties. Why, the very ideal”
“You’re right, Mary, my husband is very ill,” Cluney answered quietly. “But all the more reason I should share his bed, if that’s what he wants.”
“And what do you want?”
Cluney blushed and cast her gaze down. “I want whatever is best for my husband.”
“Well, that’s more like it,” Mary answered. “Share his bed, indeed! It’s bad enough he’s let that mangy old hound climb up on the quivvers alongside of him.”
“Mary, I promised him,” Cluney admitted quietly. “I’m not asking your permission; the minister who married us gave that. All I need is a nightgown and a place to bathe.”
Mary sat up rigidly and gave a sniff of indignation. “Well, I ’spose that’s an end to this discussion. As for bathing, the best place is down to the falls. There’s a mineral spring alongside of the big tulip tree. The rest of Lorettie’s clothes are in the cedar chest in die major’s room. You might as well help yourself, I reckon. She won’t be needin’ ’em. Now, I’ve got to get to work and scrape together something for these men to eat for supper. The good Lord always provides, but He’s been offering mighty slim pickings of late.”
“I’ll just get my bag and head on down to the mineral spring, if there’s nothing I can do here.”
Mary gave Cluney one last, exasperated glance, then waved her along. “You go have your wash. I’ll look in on the major in a while.”
“Thank you, Mary, for everything.”
“You got nothing to thank me for … Larissa.”
Cluney could tell that the name was like bitter gall in Mary’s mouth. The woman didn’t believe her story for a minute. The preacher’s wife now looked on her as a fallen woman, Cluney suspected. But before long, everyone would know the truth; Cluney was sure of it. If she’d remembered the puppies’ birth, she would remember everything in time.
When she tiptoed back into Hunter’s room to get her purse, he was sleeping soundly, a smile on his lips. The thought of what he must be dreaming embarrassed Cluney. She hurried out and closed the door soundlessly.
As she went out the front door, she saw the same strange man she had glimpsed upon her arrival. Once more she spoke to him. Once more he disappeared around the side of the house without a word to her.
Dismissing him from her mind, she glanced toward the falls and spied the tulip tree at once, so tall it towered over the others around it. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she headed for the spring only a short distance from the lodge.
The afternoon was still warm enough so that she wouldn’t catch a chill bathing out in the open. The mineral spring, which bubbled up into a Jacuzzi-sized bowl of smooth limestone, she found to her delight was warm. She had the urge to dive right in, clothes and all. But she’d have to wear Lorettie’s gown back to the house.
Glancing about to make perfectly sure she was alone, Cluney quickly removed her boots and socks, then slipped out of her dress, careful not to snag the thin chain of her moonstone necklace on the buttons. The air felt too cool against her naked flesh. Goose bumps rose on her arms and breasts. She hugged herself and shivered, then stepped into the warm, effervescent water.
She sighed with pleasure as the bubbles foamed up around her, tickling her flesh. Reaching for her bag, she pulled it closer and rummaged through its contents until she found a tiny bar of motel soap. Soon, she was lathered all over. Another search through her purse produced a small bottle of almond-scented shampoo from the same motel. In no time at all, she wore a tiara of iridescent bubbles.
“God, it feels good to be clean!” she said.
She dipped her head underwater to rinse her hair thoroughly, then swam about to get all the soap off her body. When shadows stretched longer, she reluctantly decided that it was time to end her frolic. Since she had no towel, she’d have to stretch out on a rock in the sunshine until she was dry enough to get dressed again. She’d spotted the perfect place—a smooth, flat rock that had been baking in bright sunlight all day.
Before Cluney climbed out, she glanced around again to make sure she was still alone. Satisfied that no one was watching, she scurried over to her rock and stretched out on her stomach.
“Hm-m-m,” she sighed. “I’ll bet this is as good as any of those nudist beaches on the Riviera.”
The warmth of her rock and the sun beating down on her back soon lulled her almost to sleep. Then, suddenly, she felt the damp hair rise at the nape of her neck. Her eyes shot open. She had the unmistakable feeling that someone was watching her. When she heard the sound, she knew she was right. Something moved in the bushes a short distance away. With one hand Cluney grabbed for Lorettie’s gown to cover herself, with the other she snatched up her purse.
“Who’s there?” she cried, struggling to get into her clothes. “Don’t come any closer.”
He didn’t have to; he stepped out of the bushes right behind her. He grabbed her around the waist with one arm and tangled his other hand through her hair.
Cluney fought for all she was worth, but the guy had caught her by surprise. He had her before she could use any of the defensive moves she had learned in her self-protection classes.
Cluney saw her attacker for the first time when he wrestled her around to face him. It was the silent, bearded man who had watched her leave the lodge.
“I got you now, gal,” he said, his foul breath making her gag. “You ain’t getting away again. You can’t leap no falls once I hog-tie you. I ain’t been with a woman for a mighty long time, and I got me a powerful hankerin’.”
Cluney had managed to get into her dress before he caught her, but the buttons were undone, leaving her exposed to his leering gaze. When he let go of her hair to grab at her bodice, Cluney jerked away and landed a staggering blow to his chest with her well-loaded purse. Then she ran like the devil himself was chasing her.
But she knew she’d never outrun him. The man was tall and lanky, with long legs that could quickly outdistance her. Fumbling in her purse, her hand closed on the cool, metal cylinder she always carried. She’d never used it before, but there was a first time for everything.
She glanced over her shoulder. He was gaining on her. She could hear him right behind her. She imagined she could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck.
Cluney was ready to whirl and attack, when suddenly a searing pain shot through her neck. He had reached out and grabbed the chain of her necklace. He was twisting it tight, choking her. Cluney felt a trickle of blood as the thin strand of silver bit into her flesh. With a scream and a jerk of her body, she broke his hold on her and whirled to face him.
The next scream was
his. Cluney aimed a stream from her canister of Mace right into his face. Dancing about like one possessed, the man coughed and gagged, cursed her and wailed for mercy.
Free from him at last, Larissa headed at top speed for the house. When she finally reached the door, she all but fainted from relief and exertion. Off in the distance, she could still hear her attacker screaming in pain.
Not until Cluney was safely inside the house did she realize that her necklace was gone. She’d dropped her can of Mace, too. She wanted both back and her boots as well, but there was no way in hell she was going back out there right now to search for them. She’d get them later, after she stopped shaking.
“And I’ll take Free along with me for protection from that crazy bastard,” she assured herself.
B.J. decided to stay at Cumberland Falls until the moon rose on the outside chance that there’d be another moonbow. It didn’t happen often, but it was not unheard offer the phenomenon to occur three nights in a row.
Besides, she wanted to see what Wooter Crenshaw was up to. If the moonbow did appear, and if the old man did manage to disappear, B.J. planned to be right on his coattails.
The afternoon was warm for spring. One of those lazy days when even the bees’ buzzing seemed to drone softly and slowly. B.J. sprawled on a rock high above the falls and let the sound of the dashing water lull her. Removing her sunglasses, she stared at the gorge far below, watching the play of light and shadow, her eyes peeled for anything that looked the least bit unusual.
Sonny Taylor, arriving at the ranger station for his shift, saw her and sauntered over.
“Spot anything?” he asked.
B.J. shaded her eyes and glanced up. “Nothing,” she answered. “How about you?”
He shook his head. “Sheriff Elrod called off the official search—said there wasn’t any evidence that anything had happened to your friend. He’s convinced she just wandered off, ‘to do whatever young folks nowadays do,’ as he put it. But some of the fellows from around here are still out in the woods trying to find her. If she’s out there, they will.”
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