To the right would be the stables. He could easily carve a riding trail through the less treacherous terrain; there would be plenty of room to board the horses. There would still be lots of area for hiking. And behind the house was the perfect spot for tennis courts, a softball diamond, and a soccer field. Then, of course, nestled back there in the trees, behind where he envisioned the sports areas, would be the cafeteria and the open-air lodge for activities. Hell, maybe he’d even put in a petting zoo, a cow, some sheep, a goat or two. Maybe a llama.
He smiled. It would be great.
And he knew what he’d call it. Camp Nicholas. For Nicky. For himself. Nicky was never given a chance to grow up and go to camp, play softball, or ride a horse. He, himself, was never allowed that opportunity. So it was for both of them. Camp Nicholas. Not a camp for the rich kids, but a camp for those kids who never got to see a horse or a squirrel or got to canoe in a lake. For the kids who couldn’t afford it, for the kids who needed it most. The at-risk kids—like he’d been when he was growing up. And he would see that they never had to spend a dime to come to camp. He would see to it that they wanted to come back.
It was his penance. His salvation. His healing.
I am healing.
He’d spent the winter sketching plans. Last week, he’d met with the architect. He met with the owner of the construction company this morning. It was all set. Everything would begin as soon as the spring rains stopped and they could get up the mountains with bulldozers.
He smiled again. It was going to be okay. It was all going to be okay.
Except for one thing. And even though it was the last thing on his list, it was in no way the least important. He had to see Blaire. He needed Blaire. Oh, God. How he needed her.
For there was only one thing that would make his new vision and his life complete—and that would be for her to share it with him. For eternity. Not just a small piece of time, but this time, for all time. It had taken him months to realize that, and he had no clue as to where he stood with her, but he had to try. And he had to do it now.
****
An hour later, Darian stared with blank expression at Mastin Kincaid.
“She’s gone.”
“How long?”
“A few weeks, I guess. A month, at least.”
“Where?” Darian refused to give in to the pain slicing through his heart.
“Don’t know.” Mastin Kincaid shook his head. “She talked about moving her business to somewhere else, but somehow, I don’t think she’s done that. I don’t understand it, really. I tried to give her everything. We were getting along so much better. If it hadn’t been for that damn newspaper thing…”
Darian watched the senator’s eyes turn misty; then they glazed over in a faraway look. He snapped out of it quickly and looked at Darian. “Maybe you can make some sense of it.”
“Did she say anything? Any indication as to where she might go?” he prodded.
The older man shook his head. “She was gone within the week after that little incident, you know? The only thing she said was that she needed some time. Had to get away.”
“And there has been no word?”
Again, he shook his head. “No, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried.”
Fear settled deep in his belly. “But there must have been something…” Darian watched the senator’s eyes widen in recognition as he lifted a finger to his chin. He nodded.
“There was something, I believe.” He turned to look Darian square in the eyes. “At the time I thought it odd, but now, I think I know exactly what she was talking about. She said she was going to the only place in the world she ever truly felt loved.”
Darian knew instantly. He had to leave.
“Son, there’s one more thing I think you ought to know.”
Cautiously, Darian looked into the man’s eyes, and he sensed he was struggling with what he was about to say. Mastin Kincaid spoke the words softly and with concern. “Find her, Darian,” he said. “She’s carrying my grandchild.”
****
Blaire watched with the keen vision of a hawk from her perch high on the ridge behind her cabin. Nestled among the trees, she crouched next to a stump, waiting for the rabbit she saw skitter in the briars ahead of her to poke his head out. She’d sat there, solid as a statue, in the same spot for what seemed like hours, tracking the rabbit that would most graciously provide her dinner this evening.
She knew she’d get him, for in the past month she’d become a crack shot with a rifle, which had helped to provide her with food. Since she was eating for two though, she needed to eat properly and make sure she got all she needed nutritionally. And unlike Darian, she ventured out of the holler every once in a while. Knowing she couldn’t stay here long because of her pregnancy, she had decided to stay long enough to get her bearings straight and make some decisions. And she had. She was almost ready to move on.
Carefully, she lifted the rifle to her cheek and stared down the sight, ready to take a deep breath and squeeze the trigger when supper appeared in the scope.
But the bushes trembled on the opposite side and she barely caught a glimpse of the rabbit as it scurried off to safety. Something had frightened it. But what?
She glanced up and about. The sun was low in the evening sky, but she spotted movement straight ahead. Not a rabbit, but a man. A man. And from the looks of him, a quite attractive man. Her stomach tightened into one huge knot.
A man.
She looked at him again.
Could it be…?
No, she shook off that thought. It would never be….
For the briefest moment, she allowed her thoughts to drift to just what that meant. Man. Wood scent and pine, warm flannel shirts, broad hairy chest to run her fingers over…a callused touch to her own soft skin…rough beard under tender kisses…the musky scent of making love….
Dammit! She didn’t need this! Blaire stood and rubbed her hands over her face trying to snuff out her thoughts. What he wanted and where he came from she didn’t know, and she didn’t give a tinker’s damn to know either—but he was coming.
And she knew he was coming for her.
She had to hand it to him, not many people, strangers or locals alike dared to venture down this hollow. Most people knew better. Darian had seen to that long ago. Most people understood that she wanted nothing from no one—except to be left alone.
Every once in a while the man disappeared under the trees and she waited in anticipation of his reappearance. Each time he did, her abdomen tightened, her brain whirled with activity and thoughts of why he was coming, and her chest expanded and contracted with the anticipation of the thing that was important enough for him to go to such lengths to get to her. And would he get to her?
God, she hoped not.
****
Follow the cliff through the woods, he told himself. Wade through the briars; find the sycamore next to the creek. Trail the narrow path down the creek toward the sandy beach; he hobbled along the large boulders rising out of the water. His foot slipped. Damn! Darian found himself waist high in frigid water.
He hoisted himself out, shivered once, then twice, and then continued his trek to the cabin. He stopped at the beach, barely a few feet of it showing above the swollen waters. Must have been a lot of rain this winter. Swiping at his pant legs, he picked off a few cockleburs and twigs left from last fall’s freeze that stuck to the fabric. He scratched at his waist and lifted his jacket and shirt to find a cocklebur or two imbedded there. He’d been away only a few months and he’d forgotten his survival skills.
The temperature had dropped significantly since he’d started out; the wind now slipped briskly through the creek bottom penetrating his wet clothing and chilling him to the bone. His feet were frozen ice cubes and his too-thin jacket was definitely inadequate in this weather. Again, he should have known better.
By the time he’d made his way up the rise to the barn, his teeth were chattering. Damnation! How could he ha
ve gotten himself into this predicament? How could he have been so stupid?
He’d been gone too long. Forgotten what it was like to live out here in the wild.
But he wouldn’t give in; besides, he had no choice. To give in would be defeat. And he had stopped running. For once in his life, he had stopped running. He was going to face this obstacle head-on. Not to mention that it was a helluva long way back to his jeep. Not to mention that he wouldn’t stop until Blaire was in his arms and he could tell her he loved her.
Loved her more than anything. Oh God, was the child she was carrying his?
Slowly, methodically, he made his way up and over the hill, hoping like nobody’s mother that he was right. Praying he would find Blaire on the other side.
****
What the hell?
Blaire straightened her back as she lifted another log into her arms. It was then that she looked up and saw him coming over the rise in front of the cabin. She glanced to the sky. It was nearly dark. She’d given up on him long ago.
But he was here now. He’d arrived. And now she would find out why. What the hell was the reason he had come to disrupt her life? She hoped to hell it wasn’t somebody Mastin sent to find her. She needed, and wanted, to be left alone for a while longer.
Needed to be left alone. Just a while longer….
He walked steadily towards her. Blaire did the same, deciding that she needed to find out what this man wanted and send him on his way before it got too dark for him to see, and he ended up spending the night. And that was a totally unwelcome thought.
She stopped then, braced her legs in a solid stance, and held tight to the four logs in her arms. He continued to come forward out of the dusk, the night quickly growing heavy with fog. Then he stopped.
At first, she only noticed one thing about him. Standing perhaps five feet away, his steel gray eyes zinged out at her like a lifeline. Then upon quick inspection of him, she felt her own eyes grow wide, almost as if in horror. One by one, each log in her hand slid to the ground around her feet.
Darian!
“Darian…?” She finally said his name out loud.
He stepped forward and then stumbled and fell. She lunged forward to help him up. The moment she touched him, she felt the iciness of his skin. “Are you okay?”
****
Darian straightened his frame and looked at her. Blaire stood before him, his insulated underwear shirt she wore peeking out at him from underneath his brown flannel shirt. Tied securely at her waist, it was much too big for her, but she looked absolutely beautiful in it.
Her hair was disheveled, a knit cap tugged down over most of it. She had wood chips stuck all over her, and a little smudge of suet on one cheek.
He wanted to kiss it right off of her.
“Blaire?” he whispered, half-afraid of her reaction to him.
“Darian, are you okay?” she asked again.
Her eyes were soft and inviting. He nodded. “I’m okay. Are you?” he whispered.
She nodded. “But you’re so cold.”
He shrugged and smiled at her. “Fell in the creek.”
Smiling back, she held out her hand. “Come. Let’s get you warm by the fire.”
She picked up two of the logs she had dropped and then led him into the cabin. He followed, not far behind. After stoking the fire and adding the logs, she turned to him.
“Sit there.”
She pointed to the floor in front of the fire. He did as she said. First, methodically, and without looking to his face, she untied his shoes and then carefully lifted each of them off his heavy, weary feet. Darian watched her, her tiny frame bent over his feet, and felt his heart swell. Then she removed his socks, one by one, and laid them close to the fire. When she looked up at him then, the look on her face was one of pure desire. Perhaps love. Her hands softly caressed his feet as she watched him watching her, massaging, bringing back the circulation. He was beyond words.
“Why are you here?” she finally whispered.
There was nothing he could say but what he felt. And now was the time to say it, if there ever was a time. “I love you, Pixie,” he murmured, just a hairbreadth louder than a whisper. “I want you. Forever.”
His heart beat even faster when she stopped the gentle massage on his feet, tears spilling over onto her cheeks. She leaned forward over him, touching his hair, his beard.
“You’ve let them grow out again,” she whispered, staring into his eyes, threading her fingers through his shoulder length hair.
“It just felt right.”
She nodded and half-smiled at him. “I like it better. I like your shirt, too.” She let her fingers trail down his chest over the soft, green flannel.
He grinned, and slid his hands around her waist. “Yours too,” he growled.
For a moment, their eyes met and played. “You’re so cold and wet,” she softly stated. “Let me take care of you.” Then before he knew it, her hands were at his belt, unfastening, unzipping, pulling his blue jeans and underwear down around his ankles. Then she inched closer and slid her hands over his shoulders, removing his jacket, and then under his shirt, removing that also.
She straddled his body, her face only inches from his. “We’ve got to get you warm,” she whispered.
“I know.” He reached out and touched her cheek with one finger. He couldn’t stand not being able to touch her any longer.
“Hypothermia is very dangerous,” she murmured in his ear and then let her lips glide down over his neck to his shoulder.
“Very,” he added, the word almost lodged in his throat.
“Body heat, I understand, is the best remedy.”
He couldn’t stand it one moment longer. Pulling her into his arms, he clasped her to him, his hands searching and finding, ripping the flannel shirt off her body, tossing the thermal underwear aside, removing her blue jeans and underwear and shoes and socks in one quick movement—all the while his lips connected with hers, tongue to tongue, heart to heart, skin to skin.
“Body heat…” he breathed into her hair as he rolled her over near the fire. He lifted himself off her then and stared into her face. Laying his hand gently on her breast, he felt the pulsing of her heart. Watching his hand, he let it glide down to smoothly palm her small rounded belly. For several seconds, he caressed and sat staring at her, as if mesmerized by what he saw.
He was. She was carrying his life inside of her. Their child. There was nothing more mesmerizing and fantastic than that.
He dragged his gaze back to her face. She was watching him, tears streaming down her face. “I almost blew it,” he whispered.
Blaire shook her head no. “I knew you’d come around sooner or later. If you hadn’t, I was coming for you. I’d already decided I wasn’t going to let you push us out of your life. You know, Darian, I want you. I don’t care one bit about your money.” Reaching up, she cupped his cheek in her palm. “How did you know?”
Grinning, he dipped his face low and lightly brushed his lips over hers. When he rose up, he searched her eyes. “There’s a very worried soon-to-be grandpa out there who let it slip. Don’t be mad. I’m glad he told me. But I had already decided to find you before I knew. I went to him to find out where you were.”
He closed his eyes and lay completely beside her, nuzzling his head between her neck and shoulder. “I’m going to make it up to you, though. I mean it, Pixie. I love you. I want you. I want our child. Now…and tomorrow…and the next day…and….” He lifted his face and rained tiny kisses over her pert face and then raised his head away from hers as he felt her hot tears trail down her temples to dissolve in her hair.
“I know,” she answered softly. “I’ve always known. As I said, I was just waiting for you to come around.”
He grinned. “I’ve come around.”
Blaire arched her upper body up to his to capture his lips in another kiss. Then she pulled away from him, cradling his face in her hands, “But what about…Nicky?”
For a mo
ment, he simply looked into her eyes. “I’ve come to an understanding there, too, Blaire. I’ve found a way to deal with it. But I needed to find you to help put the last piece of me back together again. I would never have been able to put any of this behind me if it hadn’t been for you. I need you.”
“How did you know where…?”
He shook his head. “Actually, it was something Mastin told me that you had said before you left. Something about the only place you’d ever felt loved…”
He watched her eyes brim with tears once again and leaned over to capture her lips with his. “I had to come find you,” he whispered against her lips. “I can’t survive without you, Blaire.” Then he sat back on his haunches and looked at her, a smirk on his face. “Before I forget, though, I’ve got something here I need you to sign.”
Blaire’s face held a look of astonishment. “Sign? Now?”
Reaching over to his damp, blue jeans, he pulled out a piece of paper and tossed it to her.
Alarmed, Blaire sat up. “What is it?”
He chuckled. “Don’t panic, just read it. All it needs is your signature.”
Blaire hesitantly unfolded the paper, looked at him and then back to the paper. When the tears sprung forth in her eyes, Darian knew he had his answer. She dropped her hands that held the paper in her lap. “Got a pen?” she laughed.
“Of course.” Darian dug into his jacket pocket and tossed that to her also.
Without hesitation, Blaire signed her name to the bottom of the form, completing all the necessary information, and then handed it to Darian.
“I guess that makes it official.”
He leaned closer, took the marriage license out of her hand, and laid it on the floor next to them. “Guess so.” He nuzzled her neck and brought his hands around her, drawing her into his body. “Now, what was that you said about body heat…?”
But his lips captured hers before she could reply and it was a long, long time before they talked—they simply let their hearts speak the words they needed to hear.
Body Heat (Vintage Category Romance) Page 16