Sunshine and the Shadowmaster

Home > Romance > Sunshine and the Shadowmaster > Page 18
Sunshine and the Shadowmaster Page 18

by Christine Rimmer


  He agreed, though rather grudgingly. They took another evening walk, then sat on the couch, where she told him about her last day at work. Lily had actually baked a cake and Tamara had cried and hugged her and asked if she could have Heather’s lucky tip jar.

  “What’s that?” Lucas asked.

  “The jar I put my tips in. It’s lucky, everyone says so. A lot of quarters have gone through that jar.”

  “Maybe it’s lucky because of you.”

  They were sitting on either end of the couch. Heather had kicked off her shoes and folded her feet under her. “Because I’m such a great waitress, you mean?”

  “No. Because you’re great, period.”

  That was nice to hear. “Lucas, I think that was a compliment.”

  “I think you could be right. Stretch out your feet. Come on.”

  She did, and he rubbed them. His hands were warm and strong, easing the aches away, and she cautioned herself not to think too much about how good those hands had felt on other parts of her body three nights before.

  “Lucas?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Would you just...talk to me?”

  “What about?”

  “Yourself.”

  His hands stilled, cradling her right ankle. “What about me?”

  “What you think. And feel.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well, are you okay? About marrying me, I mean? Do you feel that I’m trapping you, or something?”

  He actually chuckled. “Think back, Heather. I was the one pushing for marriage, not you.”

  She laughed, too. “You’ve got a point. But there’s something wrong. Something—”

  “What?”

  She studied him, feeling very far out of her depth. “You didn’t let me finish.”

  “All right, then. Finish.”

  “Well, it seems like there’s something bothering you, that’s all.”

  “No. There’s not.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  She pulled her feet free, but only so she could slide closer to him. “Well. Great instincts I’ve got, huh?”

  He put his arm around her and kissed her on the nose. She reveled in the hardness of his lean chest against her own softness and wondered shamelessly how she was going to last without his lovemaking for that night and three more nights to follow.

  How could this be happening to her? She’d gone twenty-three years without his lovemaking and managed just fine. And yet here she was wondering how she would make it through the next four nights.

  “Don’t worry about your instincts,” he whispered in her ear. “You have other things going for you.”

  She shivered a little. “Like what?”

  “I could show you.”

  Oh, she shouldn’t, she knew it, yet her lips were saying, “Yes. All right. Please do.”

  He kissed her, his mouth covering hers in a caress both tender and consuming. She pressed herself eagerly against him. It was a long kiss and would have been longer had there not been the sound of sneakered feet bounding up onto the porch.

  They pulled apart, both breathing a little too hard, and turned to smile at Mark when he came in the door.

  * * *

  Heather floated through the rest of the evening in a state of dreamy arousal, smiling to herself at the thought of how Lucas’s lips felt against her own, telling herself it wasn’t that long until Saturday. She could wait. Somehow.

  But then later, when she lay in her bed unable to sleep, she couldn’t help suspecting that he’d done it again—avoided the subject of what was really on his mind.

  * * *

  The next day they drove to the government center in Nevada City and got the marriage license. Then they went out to lunch at a nice restaurant. Heather had a lovely time. Lucas was attentive and charming. They talked about his books and she told him just what she thought of each one. He told her that he and Mark lived a very private life in Monterey, that the only time he really got out was for the required publicity tours whenever one of his books was released.

  “Are you trying to reassure me that I’ll get along all right in your world?” she asked.

  “I’m just telling you that there isn’t any big social scene for you to get used to.”

  She thought about that. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind a big social scene. I’m a pretty social person, after all.”

  “If you want to get out, we can do that.”

  “Maybe we could just...stay in North Magdalene and live? If you want a bigger house, we could even build one.”

  They’d just left the restaurant. He stopped in the middle of Commercial Street and turned to her. “Are you ever going to give that up?”

  She gave a little shrug. “Probably not. I love my hometown.”

  “I gathered. But we’re living in Monterey.” He started walking again.

  She had to hurry to catch up with him. “Don’t be grumpy.” She took his arm and beamed up at him.

  He granted her a grudging smile. “Then knock it off.”

  “Okay. For now.”

  * * *

  Heather was so encouraged by their afternoon together, that she didn’t even hesitate to seek him out in his room again as soon as Mark was in bed. When he opened the door to her, she caught a quick glance of his computer before he blocked it with his body. The screen was dark.

  “You’re not working,” she accused teasingly.

  “Yes, I am. I’m thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “About my work.”

  “Let me come in.”

  “That could be dangerous.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  He stood back and she entered the room. She heard the door close and turned to find him leaning against it, his arms crossed over his chest, watching her. He wore loose black slacks and a crew-neck black shirt and his feet were bare. They were very well-formed feet, actually, lightly dusted with dark hair.

  “What are you up to, Heather?”

  She tore her gaze away from his toes and made herself confront those unreadable eyes. “I thought...we could talk.”

  “We talked all day.”

  “Well, I know but...”

  “But what?”

  “I just, well, it’s only two days until the wedding. And I don’t feel as if we really know each other yet.”

  He straightened from the door and came toward her, his bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. Oh, he was wonderful to watch when he moved. So fluid—and yet so direct.

  All she wanted as she watched him approach was to know his touch again. She felt a little ashamed of herself, really. He’d been right; her coming in here was dangerous if they planned to keep their hands off each other until Saturday night.

  So what was she doing in here? And why hadn’t she protested when he closed the door?

  He stopped in front of her. She could feel the warmth of him, smell his special scent. “What is it you think we should know about each other that we don’t already know?”

  Her throat felt tight. She coughed a little to loosen it. “Well, everything. What we think. What we feel. The...secrets of our hearts.”

  He regarded her quizzically for a moment, then agreed, “Okay. Start talking. Tell me what you think. And what you feel. And all your secrets. I can’t wait to hear.”

  He was taunting her. A moment ago, she’d felt like his equal. Now she felt about two inches tall.

  “Oh, Lucas.” She looked away.

  He captured her chin and brought her head back around, so she had to look at him. “Not so easy, is it?”

  His hand felt so warm against her skin. Oh, what was the matter with her? All she could think of was the way he felt. She had to put her desire aside for right now. She had to concentrate on getting through to him, on getting to know him in a deeper, more honest way than she knew him now.

  She attempted once more to explain her unease. “I don’t know, I just...”

  �
��You just what?”

  “There’s just something...”

  He lifted his hand and brushed her hair back over her shoulder. Then he idly caressed the side of her neck with the back of his fingers. “Give it up, Heather.”

  “Give what up?” Her voice was dreamy. His fingers had magic in them. Just the lightest breath of a stroke on the side of her neck, and her whole body was on fire.

  “You can’t know everything about me. Not in a few days—probably not in a lifetime. And I can’t know all there is to know about you. Just relax. Let it be. We’ll be married. I’ll take care of you.” His hand strayed. He took her earlobe between his thumb and forefinger and worried it, gently, maddeningly.

  “Lucas...”

  “You should go. Or stay.” He cupped the back of her neck, his fingers under her hair, pressing on her skin.

  Her breath got stuck in her chest. “I...we agreed...”

  “Then you should go.”

  “But I...”

  “Then you should stay.” He pulled her closer, so their bodies almost touched.

  She swayed a little, and had to hold onto his shoulders to steady herself. “Oh, Lucas. I have no backbone.”

  He chuckled. His fingers moved downward, tracing the bumps of her spine through her blouse. “Yes, you do. I can feel it. Right here.” He reached the small of her back and stopped there, his hand warm and possessive against the curve of her hip.

  “This time...I would have to go, before morning. Just in case Mark—”

  “Yes.” His hand slid lower still, then back up to clasp her waist. “That would be best.”

  “You knew, didn’t you, when I asked you to wait until the wedding, that I wouldn’t last? That’s why you gave me that strange look.”

  He stepped back a fraction. Her heart thudded, heavy and needful beneath her breast, as his fingers began working at the buttons of her blouse. “I wasn’t thinking about whether you could last, actually,” he muttered low and rather hoarsely.

  The buttons fell away. With a forefinger, he guided the blouse to the back of her shoulders and then off to the floor. He used both hands to unhook her denim skirt and soon it fell around her sandaled feet.

  And then he reached for her, scooped her up against his chest and carried her to the bed.

  * * *

  It was hours later, after she’d returned to her own room, that she realized he’d evaded her once more. And she had helped him do it.

  She lay between the cool sheets of her bed, her body limp and sated, her mind and heart unsatisfied.

  Heather moaned and wondered what was happening to her. Lucas was like a drug in her system. She wanted more and more of him. And yet, he wouldn’t let her get truly close.

  He wouldn’t show his heart to her.

  She turned over, pulled up the sheet, then kicked it off again.

  * * *

  When at last sleep came, Heather dreamed she was swimming at the special, secret swimming hole that only she and Jason Lee used to visit. It was night and the moon was full, the stars so thick they seemed to run together. The expanse of beach was silvery in the moonlight.

  Naked, Heather lay in the sand, staring up at the moon, waiting for Jason Lee. But he didn’t come.

  Finally, with a sigh, she rose and went to the water. She waded in. The water was warm, much warmer than she ever remembered it being. Like heated liquid silk all around her. She dived deep, opening her eyes and discovering, after a moment, that she could breathe in the water. She swam for a long time, under the surface, breathing the water, soothed by its silky feel.

  At last, she grew weary of swimming. She poked her head above the water. And Jason Lee was sitting there, as naked as she was, on the bank, at the place where she’d gone in.

  She knew it was him, though his body seemed leaner and taller and the moon was behind him so that she couldn’t make out his face. It had to be him. No one else knew this secret place.

  Heather rose from the water and he stood at the same time. They walked toward each other and met in the shallows. And that was when she saw who it really was, when she understood that she really hadn’t been waiting for Jason Lee after all.

  She’d been waiting for Lucas. And now he was here.

  “Let’s talk about what’s in your heart,” Lucas whispered.

  “My heart?” She looked down at the water that lapped around their calves, then back up at him.

  “You love me,” he said.

  She said nothing. It was only the truth.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Heather woke the next morning with the dream vivid in her mind. For a moment she lay there, staring at her bedside radio alarm clock, which she hadn’t bothered to set since she didn’t have to go to work. It was eight thirty-five—and her stomach was acting up on her as usual.

  Heather threw back the covers, jumped from the bed and stumbled to the bathroom where she bent over the commode. But after a minute, she discovered she didn’t need to throw up after all.

  When she was sure her stomach could be trusted, she looked in the mirror over the sink.

  She didn’t look that much different than she had yesterday. Yet she was irrevocably changed.

  She loved Lucas.

  That was it; that was her secret. The one she’d been keeping from everyone. Including herself.

  He was exactly the kind of man she’d never meant to love. Too much like her father, and all the other Jones men. And yet it had happened. She loved him.

  Which made no sense. She hardly knew him. He would not let himself be known.

  But when she closed her eyes and tried to conjure Jason Lee’s face in her mind, it would not come. All she could see were black-lashed ebony eyes, a hawklike nose and that cruel, sensuous slash of a mouth.

  All she could see was Lucas.

  * * *

  “Aunt Heather, you okay?” Mark asked her around a mouthful of Super Wheat Crunchies at breakfast.

  “Of course. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, you closed your eyes there for a moment and I thought you were gonna fall off your chair.”

  “No. It’s just...I’m just... It’s the wedding. I have a lot of things on my mind.”

  “Yeah.” Mark dipped up another huge spoonful of cereal. “It’s gonna be a serious event, no doubt about it.” Mark stuck the cereal into his mouth and started crunching it. He was going to stand up for his father as best man, and was quite proud of himself.

  “I know I’m young, Dad,” Mark had said when Lucas asked him. “But I won’t let you down.”

  And Mark was right about the wedding being an event. Somehow, the ceremony that Heather had envisioned as an intimate, casual gathering of the closest members of the family, was growing into a bigger deal as each day passed. Part of the reason was that the family was pretty large in itself. Grandpa Oggie had fathered five children, after all. And each of those children had a wife or a husband and most of them had kids. And then there was dear, departed Grandma Bathsheba’s side of the family, the Rileys, who happened to be related in some distant way to just about everyone who’d ever lived in the area in the past hundred years. And beyond the Rileys, there was Heather’s own deceased mother’s side of the family, the Willises. Most of them no longer lived nearby, but Aunt Delilah had called a few of them. And some said they’d come.

  And on top of all the family, there were the friends—friends who were so much like family that it seemed it would be a crime to leave them out. Eden’s and Aunt Regina’s phones were ringing night and day with people calling up to say they wouldn’t miss the wedding for all the gold in the mother lode.

  Aunt Regina had finally decided to put up a notice at the post office inviting everyone who wanted to be there. The immediate members of the family would arrive early and for everyone else, it would be first come, first served.

  This morning at eleven Heather was scheduled to try on her grandmother’s wedding dress for—she sincerely hoped—the last time. And tomorrow there was even goi
ng to be a rehearsal in Aunt Regina’s backyard, after which Aunt Delilah was putting on a big feast at her house. Then on the morning of the wedding, Aunt Amy was having everyone over to her house for a family breakfast.

  “Morning,” Lucas said as he entered the kitchen. “What’s up with the two of you?”

  “Aunt Heather looks like she’s gonna heave, but other than that, nothing much,” Mark said.

  Lucas turned his dark gaze her way, his brow furrowing in concern. “Heather?”

  Heather’s air seemed to be cut off. Her heart was bouncing around in her chest. She loved him. Loved him....

  “Heather? Are you all right?”

  From some impossible place within her, she came upon her own voice. “Oh. Yes. Fine. Just fine.” She shot to her feet. “Sit down. I’ll pour you some coffee.” She pulled out the chair he usually sat in.

  Mark and Lucas exchanged baffled glances, then Lucas turned to Heather again. “You look strange,” he insisted.

  “Well, I’m not. Just sit down.”

  Shaking his head, Lucas took the chair.

  Mark finished chewing his last bite of cereal and announced, “Listen. I’m going to Marnie’s. But we’ll be back over here in an hour or two, okay? We want to work on the tree fort.” He and Marnie had spent the last couple of hours of the previous afternoon rebuilding the old fort in the walnut tree out back. Clearly, more repairs were in the offing.

  “That’s fine,” Heather heard herself say. Mark left. Heather realized she was still staring dreamily at Lucas, who was staring back at her, his expression caught midway between puzzlement and concern.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Me? Absolutely. Top-notch.”

  “Are you upset about last night?”

  “Last night? Why would I be upset about that?”

  “We broke our agreement that we wouldn’t make love until after the wedding.”

  “Our agreement?”

  He lifted a brow at her. “Heather. You do remember the agreement we had. It was your idea, after all.”

  “Yes. Of course, I remember.”

  “Then are you upset because we didn’t keep it?”

  “Um. No. I suppose I should be. But I’m not.”

 

‹ Prev