by Summers, Amy
He pulled her close and tasted her lips, then pushed his hands up under her soggy sweater, nibbing her chilled skin to warm her. "I know how powerful she can be," he groaned into the hollow of her neck. His bands cupped her breasts as though to guard them from the cold wool. "I'm only grateful," he said softly, "that she hasn't turned me into a toad, as she threatened."
"We're both going to turn into flotsam if we don't get out of these wet clothes," she warned. "I think we'd better head back to my place."
They walked along the beach side by side, admiring the silver sparkle on the black water as the moon rose. Thawn was shivering, but she wished this moment could last forever.
Her little cottage was dark, but she lit a lantern that cast a rosy glow about the room.
"I've got a spare pair of jeans in my car," Rafe told her. "I'll run out and get them while you start your shower."
She stepped into the steamy water and closed her eyes as the hot streams cleansed her skin and hair. She heard the sounds of Rafe moving around in her bedroom, then into the bathroom, but it never occurred to her that he might come into the shower until he joined her.
"Hi," he said, smiling into her open-mouthed stare.
He seemed so dark standing there with the brown hair covering his chest and legs and much of the rest of his body. Somehow he seemed more intimidating than he had in the cave.
"I'm.. .I'm almost finished," Thawn murmured shyly, but he reached out to help her wash.
"There's no hurry," he said softly.
She turned away from him, standing directly under the stinging water, and he began the slow, deliciously slippery chore of soaping her back.
“Too bad you're so dirty," he said huskily as his hands worked over her skin. "This is going to take a long, long time."
He turned her to him, and she didn't seem to have any strength to pull away. The cake of soap was foaming in his hands, and he smoothed the tiny bubbles over her stomach, his long fingers spanning the width from hipbone to hipbone, filling her navel with suds.
Then he began working up, nibbing the soap into the spaces between her ribs, then up and over her breasts, paying particular attention to the hard tips.
"Wouldn't want to leave any sand here," he murmured softly. "If there's anything I hate, it's sand between my teeth."
Suddenly she was laughing again. "Enough!" she cried, turning from his caressing hands and back under the water. "You're tickling me."
He shook his head sadly. "What a shame," he said solemnly. "You washed off all the soap. I guess we'll just have to start all over again."
"Oh, no, you don't," she retorted, wrestling the cake of soap from his hands. "Now it's my turn."
His lazy grin told her he'd been hoping for just that. He stretched his long body before her, arching and purring like a huge jungle cat being stroked while she let her hands glide everywhere, braver with the soap than she ever would have been without it.
"You have the most gorgeous body," she told him happily as she moved over his hipbone and down across his muscular thigh.
"And the cleanest," he murmured, turning languorously beneath her touch. "I don't think you've missed a spot." He grinned. "But why not go over each one again, just in case."
Instead she moved in against him, reaching up with her mouth to catch hold of his kiss. Their bodies seemed to slide together, so smooth and slick, but the feeling made Thawn laugh because it was new and strange.
"It feels like someone else is here between us," she complained, stepping away to shower off the suds.
"Oh no," Rafe retorted, pulling her back against him. "Not ever."
His lips were warm on her neck, and she smiled a bit sadly before she continued rinsing off. What lies men told.
Stepping out of the shower, they dried each other with huge, fluffy towels and then dropped them to the floor as they reached for each other again.
"I can't get enough of you, Thawn," Rafe breathed into her wet hair. "You're habit-forming."
Thawn suddenly felt the chill of the night air on her naked skin. He was drawn to her. She could see it, she could feel it. But it was only a passing addiction.
She slipped out of his arms and walked quickly into her room, searching for clean clothes.
She was an absorbing attraction for him now, just like the films he worked on. They consumed him totally while they were in production. But once the editing was finished, did he give them more than a fond thought now and again?
He followed her into the bedroom and stood watching her with hooded eyes. Her pulse quickened. Was he going to stop her? Was he going to try to take her to the bed?
But no, his face was infinitely knowing. He didn't even mention his disappointment as he pulled on the jeans he had brought from the car.
"We never did have dinner," he reminded her quietly.
She paused while running a comb through her tangled wet hair. "Oh... no, I guess we didn't." She shot him an appraising glance. "I'm afraid I don't have much here in the house, and it's really a little late to go out. So..."
"So we'll have to go to my house," he finished at last.
She looked up in surprise. "Your house? But you don't have a house."
His grin was satiric as he stood shirtless before her. "And won't ever get one if it's up to you," he reminded her. He went on before the protest that was trembling on her lips could find voice. "But I do have a trailer and a well-stocked refrigerator."
She wavered. If he was inviting her there, he couldn’t have another woman with him. Why not go? Why not savor all she could enjoy from this relationship, as long as she held out no false hopes?
The road stretched out like a silver-blue ribbon in the moonlight. Thawn sat back in the Jaguar and enjoyed the sound of its roar as they cruised over the rolling hills.
"Are you staying for long this time?" she asked Rafe.
He cast her a questioning look. "This time?" he repeated. "I haven't been away."
She frowned. "Oh?"
"I've been taking care of the wrap-up on my last film from San Luis Obispo. I've been at the trailer every night for weeks."
A small, cold lump began to grow in the pit of her stomach. If he hadn't been back down to L.A., what had happened to the woman?
"Here we are."
As he pulled into the long, rocky driveway, she could see that there were lights on in the trailer.
"Rafe," she said slowly, "is she... is someone staying with you?"
His face gave away nothing. "Yes," he said shortly, stopping the car and switching off the engine.
She waited while he came around to open the door for her, then rose slowly beside him.
"Go on in," he urged her. "I'll just get my wet clothes out of the back.
She turned to watch him lean in to get his things, then started toward the few steps that led up to the entrance. Just before she reached it, the door swung open. A woman stood silhouetted in the trailer light, the same woman Thawn had seen there weeks earlier.
But she had only a moment to identify her. As soon as the woman saw Thawn, she pulled the door closed again.
"Carly!" Rafe called from behind Thawn. "Carly, come back."
Thawn turned on him, furious. "How could you do this to me?" she snapped. "How could you bring me here to meet your lover?"
His eyes were cold and distant. "Don't be a fool, Thawn," he growled. "She's not my lover." He took her arm, urging her to accompany him into the metal house. "Carly, come here," he ordered as he led Thawn into the good-size living area and showed her to a chair. "Stay here while I go get her." He left Thawn to gaze after him in bewilderment.
The trailer was actually a medium-size mobile home, almost as large as a two-bedroom house. The walls were paneled in light oak and the furniture was Colonial American, with overstuffed chairs and couches and wooden sideboards. It had a warm, homey feeling that seemed at odds with Thawn's image of the way Rafe would live.
She sat gingerly in her chair, listening to the faint sound of voic
es coming from the next room and wondering why she was sitting here so compliantly instead of walking back to the highway in indignation.
Rafe had said the woman wasn't his lover. Then who in the world was she?
Rafe returned, looking more relaxed, almost relieved. Thawn heard movement in the other room.
"She'll be out in a minute," he said. "She's fixing us an omelet."
Thawn stared up at him stonily. "I don't think I'm very hungry."
He'd changed into a plaid shirt but hadn't buttoned it yet, and his dark chest looked inviting in the lamplight.
He began to fasten the buttons, then sank down into a chair next to her and leaned forward to speak to her softly.
"She wants me to explain everything to you before she comes out to meet you," he said earnestly.
"Wonderful," she snapped. "I quite agree with her."
His eyebrows drew together in a frown. "What's eating you?" he demanded.
"What do you think is eating me?" she hissed. "You come into my house, browbeat me, then take me out and seduce me on the beach, invade my bath, then take me home to meet some woman who lives with you. I've had a bit much today, Rafe Armstrong. I think I have a right to be angry."
"Seduce you!" His frown was fierce now. "What do you mean, seduce you?" He reached out to grab her wrist. "I'd say, if anything, it was the other way around."
"What?"
A beguilingly arrogant smile lit his eyes, and his fingers slid farther up her arm. "Wouldn't you call it seduction, Thawn? The way you led me down the beach, out where no one would bother us? The way you enticed me into your secret retreat? Like a spider spinning a web, Thawn, my darling."
He stroked the line of her chin, the curve of her neck, and she sighed as she felt a quiver go through her. She couldn't resist a tremulous smile. "A spider," she scoffed. "Thanks a lot."
His fingers tightened at the back of her neck, pulling her toward him. His lips touched hers so softly that she opened her eyes to make sure he was really there.
"Are you ready to listen now?" he whispered.
She nodded. What could he say that could destroy the warmth between them?
"Okay." He settled back and she did too, wondering if he shared her regret at the quickness of his touch. How she wanted to hold him again!
"Carly is my little sister."
Thawn looked up in surprise. "Your sister!"
He cocked an eyebrow. "Can't I have a sister, just like anybody else?"
A slow, hot flush spread across her face. How could she have been such a fool! "Of course you can. I'm sorry I—"
He stopped her with a quick shake of his dark head. "That's not the whole story. Carly is living with me because she needs some time to recuperate. She was in a bad car accident a few months ago. Her fiance was killed, and her face was badly burned."
Thawn felt a sudden rush of sympathy. "Oh, how terrible!" So that was why she was shy of strangers. And Thawn had been assigning her to the role of mistress. She could hardly believe she'd misread the situation so completely.
Rafe nodded absently. "It's been very rough. She... she's been going through a series of operations to correct the scarring on her face, but there doesn't seem to be anything to help her with the scars on her spirit."
Thawn was struck by the dejection she saw in his face. "She can't pull out of her depression?" she asked, wondering if Carly felt the same way she had after she'd left Mark. Her own experience wasn't nearly as tragic, but perhaps it could help her understand what Carly was going through.
He hesitated. "I don't know if it's depression exactly," he said slowly. "She seems to have no interest in starting to live again. She won't go out. She won't let me have people here."
Thawn glanced toward what she assumed was the kitchen. "Is she upset that you brought me?"
He wasted no time on tact. "Yes. But she's promised to consider joining us while we eat."
As he spoke, his sister entered the room. She looked about twenty-one—a young twenty-one, shy and reserved. She was tall and carried herself with a lanky grace that made every movement she made seem fluid. She wore her silky dark brown hair partly over her face, but even so, Thawn could see the ugly red scars that covered most of one side. Despite that, she was still quite attractive. Thawn could see she must have been exceptionally beautiful before the accident.
She was carrying two plates in one hand and a steaming omelet on a platter in another. "Here, let me help you," Thawn cried, jumping up.
The young woman's eyes flashed in defiance, then she looked quickly away. "I'm only scarred, not crippled," she snapped, stopping Thawn in her tracks.
Thawn glanced at Rafe, who shook his head imperceptibly. What was he trying to warn her of? But she couldn't pay attention to his fears. Carly was in emotional pain. Hanging back and waiting for it to go away wouldn't do her any good.
Thawn moved forward again and forced the stack of plates from Carly's hand.
"I can see the accident didn't damage your tongue," she said with soft good humor, "or your sense of outrage."
Rafe made an explosive sound protest, and Carly stood as though frozen by Thawn's words. Thawn paid no attention to either of them. For some reason her heart had gone out to this unhappy young woman, and she felt instinctively that she might be able to reach her. She'd grown up with a cousin who had cerebral palsy, and she'd learned early that the handicapped appreciated being treated with blunt honesty rather than with tender pity.
Still, it was obvious that Carly wasn't ready to welcome her efforts. She knew she was taking a gamble, but she felt compelled to continue. She began setting the plates on the table, placing each with the pattern just right. Then she turned and took the platter with the omelet from Carly's unresisting grasp. "This looks delicious"— she smiled at Carly's stony face—"but you only brought out two plates. Won't you join us?"
Carly's dark eyes flickered across Thawn's face, then lowered again. "Wouldn't I take away your appetite?" she sneered. "Looking at me is enough to make anyone sick."
Thawn withheld her angry retort, knowing that Carly had been trying to provoke it. Instead she reached out, swept back the young woman's hair, and studied the red scars that spread across her cheek and down around her neck "They are awful," she agreed.
"Damn it, Thawn," Rafe growled behind her, but she pretended not to hear.
"You won't have them forever," she went on. "Rafe tells me you're in the midst of skin-grafting procedures that will restore your pretty skin. I know it’s hard to wait, but they can do some wonderful work on scars like yours these days. It’ll be worth it."
Carly avoided Thawn's eyes with sullen silence. Thawn could see that she wasn't going to talk about her problem with a stranger.
"Are you in much pain?" she asked softly.
Carly's eyes returned to Thawn, widened with surprise. For a long moment she stared at her. "Not really," she said at last.
Thawn smiled. "Good." She gestured toward the table. "Please have some of this with us."
Carly didn't smile. "Are you the environmental nut?" she asked unexpectedly.
Thawn stepped back in surprise but quickly recovered her sense of humor. "I guess I am."
"Do you know a lot about the animals on this beach?"
Thawn nodded. "That's part of my field."
Carly flashed a quick look at her brother. "All right," she said softly, "I'll get another plate."
Thawn turned apprehensively toward Rafe as Carly left the room. Wordlessly he sat down at the table, not commenting on Thawn's methods. She hoped he wasn't angry, but there was no time to ask.
The omelet turned out to be as delicious as it looked and smelled. Carly had sauteed shallots and mushrooms to fill the fold, then cooked the egg mixture to a golden hue.
Their conversation during the meal didn't sparkle, but it didn't degenerate into hostility either. The only time Carly really forgot her self-consciousness was when Thawn asked how she liked her little bit of coastline.
"It's so beautiful here," she said enthusiastically. "I love the fog in the morning. I love to watch it slowly fade as the sun comes through in the afternoon. And I love to watch the surf smashing against the rocks."
Carly's face became animated with eagerness. "I saw a sea otter the other day. He was lying on his back in the water. I swear he smiled at me. Then he dove down, came up with some kind of shellfish, and cracked it open with a rock he carried on his chest. He was floating there on his back in the water, eating away and smiling at me."
Rafe was beaming at his sister, his pleasure in her happiness evident. Thawn liked that. In fact, the more she got to know him, the more she liked him. The contrast between this intelligent, gruff but warm man and the cut-out character part she’d seen him play at Hollywood parties was huge. He was a different man here on the coast. How long could she hope he would stay?
A wisp of anxiety made her throat dry. She could allow herself to be attracted to him, but she’d better not start to like him too much. She couldn’t mix her fantasy of how she'd like things to be between them with the reality of how they actually were. If she did, she would end up in worse shape than Carly.
She volunteered to help Rafe's sister clear the table and wash the dishes, and Rafe left them alone in the kitchen. As they worked, Carly relaxed even more and asked Thawn questions and even asked her for advice.
"I found a sparrow with a hurt wing and I've got him in a box outside," she confided. "Do you know what I should give him to eat? He won't touch the seeds I've tried to feed him."
'Try bread," Thawn advised. "Soak it in a little broth first. But don't count too much on being able to save the bird. Not if the wing is badly damaged."
"I am going to save him," Carly said confidently. "Just you wait and see."
Thawn smiled. She liked Rafe's sister. All Carly needed was a little more contact with the outside world.
As they were putting away the last glasses, Thawn cast Carly a tentative look, then asked, "May I come and see you again?"
Carly looked up at her, clearly startled. "Why?" she asked defensively. "To get on Rafe's good side?"
Thawn flushed. "No. I'd just like to get to know you better."