In seconds she relaxed. Duncan removed his hands and extended his arms. She was flying. Like a bird she glided on the air currents, feeling them pressing her body, holding it in the air and letting her float.
The ground bolted upward, toward her but not as fast as she expected. She liked it. She wanted to do things in the air, turn over, swim, see what would happen if she rocked. She felt free, uninhibited, exhilarated. This was thrilling, she thought, almost like her first dive off the high diving board in college. She remembered the coarse air against her face before she hit the water. This was like jumping from a 10,000 foot diving board.
She took in the scenery below. All too soon Duncan pulled the ripcord. Aurora felt a powerful tug as the red and white chute opened and she was pulled back against Duncan. The chute reduced the falling sensation. In a moment they were floating on the air. Aurora hung in the air, dropping slowly. Half the fall had been done in forty-five seconds. The last half would take five minutes to reach the ground.
Aurora let Duncan control the chute while she enjoyed the ground below. She couldn't explain why she loved the falling or the excitement of having nothing between her and the ground but air.
"We have to do this again," she shouted excitedly when he softly set them on the ground, right on target.
"I take it you liked it." He pressed the release that tethered them together.
Aurora was completely out of breath. She turned to him, excitement coloring her cheeks. "I loved it. It was wonderful. I want to do it again."
Duncan gathered the nylon fabric, pulling it toward himself and rolling it into a huge ball. He hadn't seen her look happy in days. Now she glowed with new life. Enthusiasm made her talk incessantly and he loved hearing it. She described every aspect of the fall as if she were telling it to someone who had never jumped. While he didn't consider skydiving living on the edge, a lot of people did. Most people thought he'd lost his mind when he made his first jump. None of them would consider diving for themselves, but Aurora took to it with the same style and perseverance that had her doing gymnastic routines with the show's guests.
As they fell into step on their way back to the hangar, Ennis landed the plane.
"How'd you like it?" he asked when he joined them.
"It was wonderful." Aurora's eyes were huge like those of a child with a new Christmas toy, and her smile covered the bottom half of her face.
"Duncan, you should bring her by when we have the air show in the spring."
"I don't want to wait that long," Aurora stated. "I'd like to go up again today."
"Not today." Duncan dropped the parachute and looked at his watch. We have a show to do."
She'd forgotten about the show, forgotten about everything except the astonishing exhilaration of sailing through nothing but air. Now memory came flooding back. The stalker's phone call. The threat of being killed. The inescapable fear that surrounded her heart, forcing it to beat faster until she thought it would burst. The uncanny logic that whoever was after her sat in the audience and watched her film the show.
Silent.
Lurking.
Deadly.
***
Hopewell Township backed into Princeton on the north side. Established a hundred years before the American Revolution, it was quaint, small, and quiet. Duncan parked in Coop's driveway and rang the doorbell of the modest house on a street where the oak trees had witnessed the French and Indian Wars.
Coop opened the door and Duncan smelled onions, the smothered kind. His mouth watered as he realized Coop had made pork chops smothered in onions and gravy. He hadn't eaten that in a long while, and it was all the more mouthwatering for its rarity.
"God, does that smell good."
"Just like you to cut to the chase." Coop smiled. He stepped back and Duncan came inside.
The big man didn't look out of place in his kitchen, an airy room with light yellow walls and large windows. The table was set and Duncan dumped his coat and took a seat. Coop shoveled a healthy helping of the meat and onions onto his plate. He complemented it with mashed potatoes dripping in gravy and green peas, which they both hated as children but had grown to love as adults. From the oven he removed fresh cornbread muffins, and Duncan was in heaven.
While they ate neither of them mentioned Marsha, Aurora, the show, or any of the problems that plagued them. Duncan related his call to his parents, leaving out the statement his father made about his association with Aurora, but telling Coop they sent their love.
After dinner, and over glasses of brandy in the living room, Coop asked him the reason he was really here.
"As I remember it, you invited me," Duncan said. He took a drink of his brandy. It was smooth going down his throat, and warmed his chest. Coop looked steadily at him. Duncan tried to ignore it. Eventually he began to speak. "Aurora said something to me last week that I can't stop thinking about.” While he didn't think it was true he couldn't get it out of his mind. "She was almost asleep when she said it, but it's been with me since."
"What was it?" Coop asked.
"She mentioned that the man stalking her might not be anyone she knows or anyone Marsha knows. That it isn't her coin he wants."
Coop set his drink aside. Every instinct for police work he possessed went into action. His body tensed, his senses went into sharp attention, and his eyes noticed every nuance of movement from the man talking to him. It was a visible change to Duncan.
"Then whose coin is he after?"
"Mine."
"Yours?"
"I thought about it, Coop. Three people come to mind. I don't know where they are or what they're doing. I made a few calls but no one could tell me much about any of them." He felt absurd. Aurora hadn't known what she was saying. He didn't even think she remembered it. She hadn't mentioned it again.
"What would be the motive?"
"Revenge mostly. Disgruntled employees. One went to jail on my testimony."
Coop grabbed a pencil and paper. They were never far from his fingers. "Give me the information."
"I don't really think it's any of them." Duncan could take care of himself. He didn't need to give Coop details on his thoughts. He was sorry he'd mentioned it. "My money is on Marsha and something that happened in her past. Aurora is only a pawn who looks like her and this man, whoever he is, is fixated on the wrong woman."
Duncan saw Coop's reaction to his comment. He was sorry for it the moment he said it. He knew Coop was falling for Marsha, although he couldn't imagine them having anything in common.
"Aurora was rambling when she said it," he went on, hoping to cover his earlier comment. "I'm sure there's nothing to her comments. She was tired. It was the night she got the phone call. I've already looked into the three people I had in mind and there's nothing to what she said."
"It's not going to hurt for me to check on them. Let's have it."
Duncan sighed. Coop was poised to write. Duncan gave him the information. Instead of feeling foolish, he felt relieved. Coop was a good cop. He'd do what he could. He also had access to information sources that Duncan didn't. If they could be found, Coop would do it and he would keep it quiet.
"The focus is still on Marsha and Aurora," he stated.
Coop nodded. "Got any idea why either of these men would want to harm Aurora or Marsha, if they really are your enemies?"
Duncan shook his head. "None of them know Aurora. Two of them know Marsha. They worked with her on previous projects. I don't think any of them would have a reason to harm her. When she knew them, there was no Marsha Chambers Show and she wasn't as difficult to work with."
"What about the sketch? Do either of them look like the sketch or an older version of the men you remember?"
Duncan thought a moment, then shook his head. "The man would have to be a fool to come without a disguise if he planned to get in and out of the compound. The sketch is probably no good if he wore makeup."
"It would have had to be good makeup, stage makeup. Hadn't Aurora said he understoo
d television? Were either of these men part of the makeup team?"
Duncan shook his head. "That doesn't mean they didn't learn it. Any actor sitting in a chair sees what's being done to his face. It's nothing to buy the materials. Women spend a fortune on makeup every year."
"You think it's someone who's coming from Marsha's past?"
"It's the only explanation that makes any sense to me. She has the most to lose," Duncan said.
"Tell me about her, then?" Coop asked. His question was harmless, but Duncan heard the restraint behind it, as if he didn't want his friend to know his interest in Marsha wasn't purely professional. That was the thing about friends—they could read you even when you didn't want them to.
Duncan told him. They spent the better part of the night talking about Marsha, what she'd been like before she started the show, how she'd changed afterward. Coop said very little. However, Duncan knew Coop didn't miss anything. There was something growing between Cooper Dean and Marsha Chambers, just as there was something growing between him and Aurora. He'd never felt this way before, thinking of her first thing, wanting to know where she was and that she was safe, wanting to spend his nights buried inside her and his days holding her close, wanting to go where she made him feel things he'd never felt before, soaring to heights he didn't know a man could live through, let alone enjoy.
He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the upholstery as he remembered Aurora.
***
The first snow of winter fell two weeks before Thanksgiving. Aurora woke to find the world blanketed in white. It looked as if a designer had gone out and set the scene. Each tree branch was covered on the windward side, every leaf straining to hold the snow. Rhododendron bushes hung low from the weight. The ground was undisturbed by footprints or animal tracks. No snapshot could reflect a more perfect picture. Her spirits rose. She felt like a young girl again, waking up and finding winter had joined them. No school, just a day to play.
She thought of Duncan sleeping upstairs. Lifting her cup she drank the coffee and sank onto the window seat. Pulling the folds of her gown around her, she hugged her knees and watched the outside.
"You look like you know a secret."
Duncan leaned on the newel post. He wore jeans, zipped but unsnapped, and nothing else. She swallowed, thinking he couldn't get any sexier. If they ever did a show on sexy men she'd have to convince him to be guest number one. He came toward her, sitting in front of her. He took her cup and drank her coffee.
"I thought you were still asleep."
"How could I sleep with all that noise?"
"What noise?" she smiled.
"The noise of all that falling snow." He turned to gaze out the window before bringing his attention back to her. He leaned forward and kissed her mouth. "You taste good," he told her. "Like morning and coffee and winter snow." Then he moved in for more.
Aurora wondered if her attraction to Duncan would always be this strong and this instantaneous. When she was fifty and his image flowed unbidden into her mind, would her nipples tighten the way they did now? At sixty, would the pull of need flow through her like a raging river? She didn't know, wouldn't go that far. Their relationship was short-term; here today, no tomorrow. Aurora slipped one foot to the floor. Duncan's arms went around her and she slid toward him. His mouth was tender, brushing over hers with the softness of velvet. His teeth teased her bottom lip and his hands got lost in the folds of her nightgown, seeking, searching for her under the voluminous fabric.
One hand skimmed fire along the leg still on the window seat. She trembled, then jerked as arrows of heat that flashed between her legs when his hands found her breasts. Her back arched, seeking continuance of the agony that had her clinging to, him, devouring his mouth, pulling him closer to her, and wrapping her leg around him.
She didn't know when the beast invaded her, didn't understand that there was one dormant inside her, until it came to sudden and uncontrollable life. Her other leg circled him. She pulled herself onto his lap until she was sitting on him, feeling his arousal through his jeans. His body thrilled her, sending strings of electricity singing through her blood.
She pressed him back, straddling him on the narrow bench. "I want you," she said. She didn't recognize herself. She was tigerish, her nails raking over his skin as if she owned it. Every nerve pulsed to life. She felt his breathing, knew the pounding of his heart.
Aurora stretched out atop him. Her mouth connected with his, devoured his, delved inside. Her tongue danced in unison with his while her hips rolled over him. He opened his legs, letting her settle between them. Her breath accelerated, forcing itself through her mouth. He kneaded her buttocks, pressing her into the strength of him. She would have screamed if she'd had enough air but he took it away, sucked it like a vacuum, and left her reeling.
Aurora didn't remember him lowering her to the floor. She lay under him. He peeled the gown over her head and lay her naked before him. She let him look, glorying in his gaze. She felt beautiful. He made her feel beautiful.
Reaching for his zipper she pulled it down.
"I’m gonna get crazy again," he rasped.
"Good," she purred. "Come here." Aurora's hand went inside his pants at the point of the open zipper. Duncan groaned. The sound spoke of the passion ripping through her. She pulled him forward, working the jeans over his slim hips, taking him into her hands, listening to the guttural sounds that seemed forced from his body.
Duncan discarded the jeans after taking a tiny silver packet from his pocket. Aurora took it, snapped it open, and sheathed him with the latex. He gritted his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut, and held his head back as he tried to control the raging emotions Aurora's hands created on his most erotic spot. She moved slowly, driving him further and further to the point of insanity.
He couldn't stand it. Duncan grabbed her hands and pulled them away, falling forward and holding them on either side of her head. His body covered hers. She smiled at him as her eyes roamed about his face. Her eyes were deep pools of dark rapture. He kissed her nose, then took a slow trip around her cheeks to her lips. She moaned, a sound that sent blood pouring to his loins. As his tongue filled her mouth he drove himself into her. Her body shuddered. He loved that sudden catch of elation that escaped from her when they joined.
Duncan was inside her. Her hips rotated beneath him. He tried to hold back. He wanted to take it slow, savor their time together, but didn't know if he could. This was morning. They'd made love all night. Where he got the energy to continue, he didn't know. His only thought was that Aurora drove him. She pulled her hands free. They smoothed over his shoulders, trailing streams of lava down his back and over his exposed flanks. Her hands worked magic, igniting him, turning him into a four-alarm fire.
She consumed him. He drove himself deeper into her, no longer trying to be gentle. Her body accepted him, pulled him in. She bent her knees and he filled her to the hilt. Each time he was with her, control totally abandoned him. He couldn't hold back, didn't want to. He wanted to go where she led, to take her places neither of them had imagined, places they could find together.
He'd made love before, made love to her before, but this was the first time he'd ever been fully and totally under the control of someone else. He usually had the upper hand. Aurora held it now. Her body contoured to his, fit, drove, asked, and took. He gave, without volition, without thought. He wanted to give, wanted to make her feel good, wanted nothing more than to die in the throes of this powerful exchange.
He looked at her face. It changed, relaxed, tensed, as he moved inside her. He was insane, driven by instinct, pushed by a raw, uncompromising need. He rode her, rode high and wild. The wind whipped at him on his imagined ranch. He rode harder and harder, climbing toward the sky, a big Montana sky, one in which there was no limit and only two people. He consumed her, like an insatiable fire that fascinated him with its flames, licked at his control, searing it layer by layer until the string holding him together was only the t
hickness of a single thread. The thread snapped, launching him over the edge, inflaming him. He pushed deeper, grabbing for the bright sun, reaching until it burst, exploded, catapulting them to a level longed for, reached for, and found only by lovers.
***
Aurora breathed hard. Duncan covered her like a blanket. She couldn't remember feeling like this, relaxed, loved as if she was precious. She didn't want to move, never wanted to move again. Duncan was a great lover. It made her weak to think about him. She hated to think of him leaving for California, but it would come.
She kissed his neck, listening to his heart beating wildly. He rolled off of her but kept her close to his side, his arm around her, his hand fondling her breast. Aurora closed her eyes and let the feeling wash over her.
Duncan made her feel so good. She was going to miss him when this was all over. She'd thought she could come out of it unscathed, but she knew better now. She'd known better the first time they made love. Now, after this bonding, this communion, her heart was involved. She closed her mind, trying to force the image of loneliness away, but it persisted. She wondered how much longer they had together now that his movie project in California had come through. Although no announcement had been made at the studio, rumors flew every day. It was only a matter of time before he told the crew.
Aurora ran her hand over his stomach, savoring the feel of him, the smell of love in the air. "God, I'm going to miss you terribly." Aurora hadn't realized she'd spoken aloud until Duncan's hand stilled hers. He pushed himself up and stared at her. "When?" She asked the question, but knew the answer already.
Mirror Image (Capitol Chronicles Book 4) Page 19