She paused at the end of the path, her gaze meeting his in wary surprise. He thought that she might turn and leave, but after another few seconds of hesitation she walked onto the dock and stopped beside the boat. “Going out?”
He nodded, finished folding the sail cover, and moved to stow it in the bulkhead. Grabbing a couple of ring buoys from the storage space, he tossed them onto the cockpit bench and glanced at her. “Did you have a nice afternoon?”
She nodded, looked at the afternoon sky, looked back to him. “Would you like some company?”
It had taken a lot of effort to ask that question. Cade could see the subtle way she bit her lower lip; he was no stranger to the wistful tilt of her chin and he had no immunity to the note of appeal in her voice. “Do you remember how to attach the jib?”
He was tempting fate, he knew, but her slow smile was worth the risk. She was on deck in a matter of moments, putting on the jacket she had been carrying, and then bringing her hand to her forehead in salute: “Of course, I remember,” she said, her tone brimming with mischief. “Just point me in the right direction.”
Solemnly he pointed back to the dock. Autumn laughed a throaty, lilting, seductive laugh, and Cade knew he was all kinds of a fool if he left the dock with her on board. But even as she set about proving that she did remember the correct procedure of fastening the jib, he defiantly began preparing to leave.
“Cast off the bow lines,” he called as the motor purred to life. Autumn released the moorings and settled back as the boat glided forward. It had been a long time since she’d been sailing, and the anticipation made her pulse race. Her gaze slid to the helm where Cade stood, guiding their course slowly, carefully, away from the dock. Sailing had nothing to do with the rapid-fire beat of her heart, she admitted. It was Cade, his nearness, his tousled, sun-kissed hair, the sensuous blue of his eyes— Cade, who filled her with breathy tension.
He caught her look and returned it with a smile. “What happened to Richard?”
“He had to be in Washington tonight for some sort of reception.”
“Didn’t he invite you?”
As a matter of fact, Richard had invited her, had implored her in his usual unserious way. But Autumn merely shook her head in answer and focused her attention on the rhythmic dipping of the bow. She was glad to hear the note of friendly interest in Cade’s voice, but she felt oddly disappointed that he could speak of Richard so casually.
Silence descended, a silence that was full of sounds but empty of meaning. What was Cade thinking? she wondered. Was he wishing that she had gone with Richard instead of inviting herself along for a sail? Was he wishing that Marilynda were here with him instead?
Oh, stop, she commanded herself. She had spent the entire afternoon thinking and wishing. Even Richard’s ego-soothing, witty good humor hadn’t made much of a dent in her low spirits. It was Cade’s fault, wholly his responsibility. Or perhaps it was her own fault for growing up when Cade wasn’t looking.
Autumn ran her fingers through her copper hair, waiting for the sailboat to clear the protected inlet, waiting for her restlessness to ebb, waiting for something she wasn’t able to name. Her eyes sought Cade’s and found him watching her. A quavery breath hung in her throat and sexual awareness caressed her with the zephyr softness of the breeze. Then, as if a sound of warning echoed like a siren’s song, his gaze slid past her and she focused on the water breaking into ruffled waves with the boat’s motion.
Let’s sail around the moon, he’d suggested on some lighthearted yesterday and she, with near-sighted wisdom, had replied, We can’t get there from here. Autumn sighed with the fleeting memory. How many opportunities to know him had she missed because her sights were set on distant dreams? And how many times had she listened without hearing all that his words revealed? More than she could possibly remember. And now she was caught in a tapestry of her own design, wanting more than friendship, but unable to unravel what she had so carefully woven. We can’t get there from here. Maybe her careless answer had been more farsighted than she realized.
The boat swayed as it caught the breeze and Autumn scrambled to her feet to help Cade hoist the mainsail. Once under way, she refused to think past the moment, past the crisp whisper of the sails, and the feel of the wind and the sea spray. Within minutes it was like dozens of other times she’d been with Cade on the boat—the enjoyment of sailing bringing a common bond, a familiar comradeship to their thoughts.
Time raced with the wind and Autumn was unaware of its passage until Cade pointed toward the west. “Do you want to watch the sunset?” he asked, and she followed his gaze to the rosy aura that rimmed the sky.
“Could we?” It had been such a long time since she’d seen the day end from this perspective, too long since she’d taken time to enjoy the natural wonders around her.
In answer, Cade guided the craft closer to the wind-protected shore, and Autumn helped him anchor it. She sank onto the foredeck, hugging her knees and preparing to lose herself in a magnificent Chesapeake sunset. Feeling Cade watching her, she turned toward him with an inviting smile. “The show’s about to begin. Would you like to share my front-row seat?”
“No.”
He was so still, so unnaturally still, that her smile faded as the restless wind stirred inside her. His eyes held hers with a curious restraint, and she couldn’t have looked away if she’d tried.
Abruptly he swung toward the cabin door. “I’m going to get something to drink.” His words reached her as he disappeared from sight into the cabin.
Autumn sat for a full minute, listening to his movements belowdecks, wondering why it was suddenly so difficult to breathe. Maybe she, too, needed a drink. Maybe, more than that, she needed to talk to him, to finally, once and for all, heal the rift in their relationship. She was on her feet then, her mind searching for the right words, as she stepped down into the narrow confines of the cabin.
“Cade?” Her eyes had to adjust to the interior light, but still she saw him tense with the sound of her voice. Hadn’t he heard her footsteps? No, she knew somehow that he hadn’t, that he hadn’t expected her to follow and that he had been deep in thought. “Cade,” she whispered softly, hesitantly, “could I talk to you for a...?” The question died when he faced her fully, his eyes shadowed, but intense, as they met hers.
“Talk?” He repeated before taking a long swallow from the can of soda he held. Then he placed the can on the counter loudly. The seconds stretched into an eternity of deafening silence that seemed to grow with every heartbeat.
“Autumn, unless you get out of this cabin right now, something is going to happen that will spoil a very long and beautiful friendship.”
She absorbed his words slowly, never looking away from the blue eyes that warned her to run from him. But she couldn’t. She was helpless, caught between the knowledge that he was going to make love to her and her own aching desire to know him in that new and intimate way. Once it happened, there could be no going back and yet, Autumn knew that she had passed the point of no return long before this moment of decision. With love—and fear—in her heart, she stepped toward him.
Cade closed his eyes as she took that first tentative step and he tried to reason with the desire that burned hot and uncontrollable inside him. He reminded himself of the multitude of good solid reasons why he should not allow the inevitable to happen, but it was inevitable. He couldn’t stop it. There wasn’t an argument strong enough to counteract the gentle brush of her arms as they went around his neck and he didn’t have the strength of will to resist the invitation of her lips. Heroes be damned! he thought as he lifted her against him. He was, after all, only a man.
He claimed her mouth with a passion too long denied, and wondered at the eagerness of her response. Her hands cupped at his nape and pressed him down into the warmth of her kiss. Like a sundrop opening to the dawn, her lips parted beneath his, her tongue seeking and finding his. Hot spirals of need raced through him and he crushed her even closer as his tho
ughts swirled into one consummate desire.
His hands ran the length of her body, stopping at the slender curve of her hips. He stroked her, searching for the fastening of her clothing that kept him from touching her skin. A soft, aching moan vibrated against him and split the driving purpose of his consciousness. Slowly, carefully, he eased away from her and took a moment to look at her. Eyes closed, dark lashes feathered on cheeks tinted with longing, red-gold hair framing her creamy features with fire. At last she was in his embrace. After so many empty dreams she was holding him, returning his kisses, wanting him as he had wanted her for so very long.
But that was no excuse for the fierce, throbbing, mindless passion that possessed him. He loved this woman more than he had ever loved anyone or anything. Whether this was illusion or reality, he didn’t care to know. He knew only that this first time with her must be as gentle and tender as a love song.
Drawn by the faint trembling of her lips, he caressed the corner of her mouth, tasting, sipping, delighting, in the feel of her. “Autumn,” he murmured huskily against the smoothness of her cheek.
“Yes, Cade,” she whispered in her own throaty tones, knowing that he wasn’t asking and she wasn’t answering. The sound of their names blending into the air was simply a recognition, an acknowledgment of this perfect moment. Autumn wondered how she could have spent so much of her life searching for just such a moment without ever once realizing that it could be found in his arms.
Her palms moved to the lean angle of his jaw and conformed to the roughly textured shape. Cade. She knew, to the last crease tucked into his smile, how he looked. She had studied every line, every expression of his face, but she had never known the feel of him until now.
His fingers massaged the top of her thigh. She sighed and swayed closer to him, letting the delicious sensations drift over her. When his lips moved lightly to the sensitive hollow below her ear, she turned to invite his exploration down to the slope of her shoulder. Pushing the collar of her jacket aside, Cade traced a path of slow wonder to the base of her throat. Then he grasped the zipper pull of the jacket and tugged it leisurely downward.
His hand slipped inside to close over her breast and begin a more devastating caress. The jacket slipped from her shoulders to bind her arms and Autumn tried to shrug free, but with every movement she was held tighter. As Cade became aware of her struggle he took advantage of the situation by parting her blouse and nudging aside the lacy edge of her bra. His mouth drew pleasure to the rosy peak of her breast and the ache in her stomach danced lower.
Autumn murmured a sound of protest and knew that she had never felt so incomplete, so empty. When he lifted his head and began releasing her from the jacket’s restraint, she could only gaze at him through a mist of need. With his assistance she slipped out of the jacket and unbuttoned her blouse. As if he couldn’t bear to hurry even a single moment of the sweet anticipation, Cade removed her blouse one inch at a time. His gaze touched the satiny bareness of her skin and fanned the embers already burning inside her.
Once begun, there seemed no reason to increase the deliberate legato rhythm that guided her hands as she unfastened the waist of her pants so that he could remove them too. He bent to pull them to the floor, but stopped to slide the shoes she wore from her feet before stripping the slacks away. Then she stood, trembling with a dozen uncertainties as he slid her silken underwear unhurriedly down her legs. His hand cupped her calf and made a smooth sweep upward.
She halted his progress then, her fingers moving to satisfy her own half-formed plans. His coat was easily discarded, but his shirt was a pullover style, and after an awkward try, Cade gripped the hem and jerked it up and off. Autumn stared with veiled desire at the hair on his chest, realizing after a few hungry seconds that she could touch him, kiss the bronzed skin, run her fingers through that tantalizing male texture. And she did, hesitantly at first, but becoming bolder as she recognized his enjoyment.
When the rest of his clothing lay carelessly on the floor, she let her gaze discover him in the same way he was discovering her. She reveled in the ability to investigate at will, to linger whenever and wherever she wanted. And she granted him the same privilege, although she knew it was not within her power to deny him. When his hand rubbed the length of her body from shoulder to thigh, Autumn remembered the restraining barrier she still wore. Suddenly she was self-consciously aware of her nakedness and she turned from his gaze to remove her bra with belated discretion.
There was a low, tender sound of amusement before he grasped her shoulders and tugged her against him. Then his lips were warm in her hair and moving over her bare back. He trailed a row of tiny, nibbling kisses across her shoulders and down to the indentation of her waist before winding his way again to the hollows of her throat. Finally, when she thought she surely would fall into the weightless, floating sensations around her, he turned her in his arms, lifted her, and carried her the few steps to the bed.
He held her, supporting her weight as easily as he always had supported her hopes and dreams. With fingers clasped at his neck, Autumn saw the uncertainty in his eyes and matched it with understanding. The hesitation she felt in him and in her heart was merely a pause, an interlude in their blending, like the cadence of a song that built to crashing chords, softened, and then flowed back with a new intensity.
She breathed his name and his lips came slowly to whisper a promise to hers. In his kiss she savored the familiar and the new; she absorbed the quiet sharing of a moment that never had been before and never could be again. From her earliest memories she had loved him, but not like this, never like this. And once the intimate knowledge of him became hers, she never again could love him in quite the same way she loved him at this moment. The past had built the chords of this special love song, the future would flow with a new and intense melody, but for now she held the song in her heart and an elusive butterfly fluttered within her hands.
When he gently placed her on the bed, Autumn smiled and relinquished her claim to his lips. She waited with infinite patience for him to settle next to her before she gave in to the desire that spiraled through her. He drew her close against him, molding her to his form and creating a wealth of needs inside her. His fingers stroked her skin until she was breathy and hot and lost to all but his touch.
When at last he turned her beneath him, she sank down into waves of ecstasy, pulling him with her until she was completely covered with his sinewy heat. She wrapped herself around him, enfolded him in her love, and let his kiss consume her. Winds of passion blew balmy and seductive as her movements became a rhythmic harmony with his. And then, for one eternal instant, Autumn knew conquest and surrender, giving and receiving, the exquisite union of heart and body, and the separateness of two lives flowing into one. For that moment she knew what loving really meant.
For a long time afterward she lay in the curve of his arm, analyzing the wondrous sensations settling within her. Never before had she known the contentment, the total “rightness” of belonging as she now belonged to Cade. It was beautiful, beyond any emotion she’d ever experienced, and it was frightening. Her heart, her body, even her thoughts, could never be completely hers again. Never. In loving him she had given a part of herself that couldn’t be reclaimed. Did he know? Over the years he had understood so many things that she was unable to express. Did he understand now how very much she loved him and how much his tender, physical expression of love had meant to her?
She must tell him, put the feelings into a spoken pledge. She needed to know that he understood. But how could she say, “Cade, I love you”? She had misused those words so often and yet she had always said them sincerely. How could she say them now when they could so easily be misinterpreted, when they might sound insincere or motivated simply by the physical contentment of the moment?
One of his hands rested lightly on her waist and she gently threaded her fingers with his. He had been special to her since the first moment of meeting, but never more so than now. Now she knew
the deeper meaning of loving and giving; now he was both friend and lover; now, at last, she was home.
“Cade, I love you.” As she said the words they were barely more than a whisper and the sentence hovered uncertainly between them. Autumn would have liked to pull the words from the air and embroider them with sincerity, but she didn’t know how. It was very different, and infinitely harder to say “I love you” when her whole being ached with the meaning of those special words.
She held her breath and waited for his response, but as one silent second after another slipped by, her heartbeat escalated in apprehension. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? Why didn’t he say something? Anything?
Fear, insidious and uninvited, wound its way into her thoughts. He couldn’t have made love to her if he didn’t love her, could he? Not Cade, Not with her. And yet ... There was the doubt, the fear, developing in her logic. Other men, ordinary men, might make love without emotion, without commitment. But not Cade. Never Cade.
He shifted to the edge of the berth and swung his feet to the floor. She watched the tight play of muscles across his back, sensed his tension and told herself that at any moment he would turn and smile and say, “I love you.” Even when he stood and began to dress, keeping his back to her all the time, she kept reassuring her heart. He loves me. Of course he loves me.
But when he left the cabin without a word or a glance, she knew he didn’t. She had seen his feelings as she wanted to see them. Against his warnings, she had backed friendship into a corner and had forfeited any chance of ever mending their once close relationship. Overhead, she could hear his movements and knew he was preparing to weigh anchor. He was taking her home—as if she were a child who had broken the rules.
With that thought Autumn rolled from the mattress and dressed quickly. She ran unsteady fingers through her hair and glanced at the doorway. No matter how risky or uncomfortable, she had to talk to him. Somehow, she must make him understand, she told herself as she went to find him.
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