A Race for Love

by Jillian Dagg

  "I'm truly sorry," he said.

  "Not to worry," Richard told him. "Tanya, why don't you go and change. I'll get John a drink. I presume you want to stay to dinner?" He looked at his friend.

  "Well it is a long drive," John said.

  "Of course he must stay, Richard," Tanya asserted her wifely duty, "I won't be a minute."

  She escaped to her bedroom. She wasn't sure if she was glad or regretful that John had interrupted them. She just knew that the feelings she'd experienced with Richard had shown her a side of herself she hadn't known—a warm passionate nature.

  Her hands were still unsteady as she changed from the bikini into blue slacks and a matching blouse.

  John and Richard were talking when she walked through the living area to the kitchen. There was a casserole in the oven that John could share.

  Tanya thoroughly enjoyed John's company at dinner. For the first time in weeks Richard laughed spontaneously. John was good for him. He made him relax. There were no tensions between them, just an easy friendship with no complications.

  But to her Richard became a stranger. A man who'd led a full life and was now easing himself back to that way of life.

  Was Tanya just a diversion on the way up? In the biography she was reading, life for the racing driver was hectic. Wife and children seemed to take second place to racing.

  "The food's delicious," John interrupted her thoughts,

  "Richard's lucky. A beautiful woman and a good cook."

  Tanya smiled. She liked John. He had none of the enigmatic personality traits that made Richard inexplicable to her.

  "Do you think he's getting better?" she asked.

  "Oh, yes. He's improved one hundred percent. You're doing wonders for him."

  "He helps himself." Tanya glanced at Richard who was taking the banter good-naturedly."

  "Where there's a will, eh?" John grinned. "We'll have him back on the track in no time at this rate."

  Tanya's pulse beat uneasily. She felt faint as though she'd received a bad shock. Surely Richard wouldn't even think of racing again after that accident!

  Richard didn't comment. He pushed aside his plate and looked from his best friend to his wife. "How about some coffee?" he said to Tanya.

  Richard started a fire while Tanya prepared the coffee.

  When she put it on the table, John was standing with his back to the fire, hands in the back pockets of his jeans.

  "I'll arrange some practice sessions for you," he was saying to Richard. "You can slip back in easily."

  "Sure," Richard agreed, "I've had the doctor's permission to drive again. He told me to play it by ear."

  "I think you should," John said sitting down in the armchair and helping himself to a cup of coffee. "If you cut out too long, you might never get back. We've got cars, there's no problem there." He glanced at Tanya. "I'm trying to persuade him to get in some practicing," he told her. "What do you think?"

  "Of course he should," she said automatically. She watched the flames in the fire lick out at the logs. Richard's profile was set in relief by the firelight. Proud and determined.

  Sometimes gentle and absolutely charming. His lips had the power to move her beyond any of her expectations. His hands ... She glanced at his hands resting on his thighs. Long sensitive hands that had caressed her and that had steered a car at death-defying speed. He obviously had a mind that could block out fear, that could make him perform to the utmost capacity. Except one day—the day he'd lost control of the car he had been driving. Tanya felt cold despite the warmth radiating from the blazing fire.

  John put down his empty coffee cup and stood up.

  "I must be going," he said. "Thank you for the dinner. I'm glad you're both doing well."

  "Thanks for dropping by." Richard got up awkwardly as he often did when the day drew to a close and his limbs stiffened.

  "I hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience?" John's eyes twinkled as he glanced at Tanya.

  "Not at all," she assured him, "you're welcome anytime."

  Richard saw John out to his car. Tanya stacked the dishes into the sink and turned off the kitchen light. She'd wash them in the morning. Or Richard would. He often got up early and tidied the house. Richard came back into the house.

  "Thanks," he said.

  "For what?" She tipped her head to one side.

  "For bearing with us this evening. Racing drivers can become extreme bores to people with no interest in the subject."

  "I wasn't bored," she shook her head. Actually she'd closed her ears to the subject as much as possible. If Richard raced again, she knew that she'd lose him to the world he loved.

  Not that she really had him, she thought.

  Richard put his fingers to his temples. "Too much excitement," he smiled ruefully. "I think I'll get to bed."

  She watched him walk into his room and close the door.

  She felt acutely disappointed. She'd expected him to make love to her again. She wanted to be a wife in more than name. Didn't he want it too?

  Chapter Eight

  The sun shone brilliantly, sending trickles of light across the lake. Tanya prepared breakfast, pausing occasionally to wipe perspiration from her brow. The previous day had been warm, but this morning was positively hot. She wasn't exactly in the best of moods either. She'd spent a disturbed night, full of restless dreams. What really didn't help was John's interruption yesterday afternoon, and then Richard taking off for bed as soon as his friend had left. Even so, she managed a slight smile as Richard came out of his room.

  After pouring himself a cup of coffee, he sat down at the breakfast nook.

  "It's warm," he said, looking as if the heat were taking its toll. He wore denim shorts, and perspiration beaded down his naked chest. "I have a canoe in the boathouse. Why don't we drag it out and go up the lake?"

  Tanya placed his breakfast in front of him and sat beside him to eat her toast.

  "Sounds good," she said. "Otherwise this heat will kill me."

  "If the mosquitoes don't get you first," he teased.

  Tanya scratched at her bare arm. "They had a good meal yesterday."

  His fingers reached out and touched the red blotches that marked her tanned skin. The touch was like a caress and Tanya felt little shivers move up and down her spine.

  "Don't scratch them too much," he said. "They'll get infected." He took his hand away and continued eating his breakfast.

  Tanya prepared a light lunch while Richard went down to the dock.

  When she went down to join him, he had the canoe moored by a rope tied to an iron ring fastened on the dock. It was cooler by the water's edge and Tanya enjoyed the feel of the breeze lifting her hair.

  Richard took her hand to help her into the canoe. There was a fishing rod and tackle box in the bottom.

  "Fishing?" Tanya asked.

  "Well," he shrugged. "We'll play around at it, but John and I have sometimes caught enough to keep us going for two weeks straight."

  She sat down and held on to the sides, feeling the canoe sway slightly as it took his weight. Then he was paddling into the lake.

  They kept close to the shore. Tanya watched the lean strength of Richard's body as he steered the canoe with deft movements, paddling on one side only. Then he would turn the paddle at the end of each stroke to keep the canoe straight. She trailed her fingers through the cool water. It was heaven to be away from the heat of the land.

  "There's a little island further round the point. It's always a good place for fish," Richard told her. "We'll go there, okay?"

  It didn't take long to get to the island, which turned out to be a cluster of moss-covered rocks and spiky pine trees.

  There was a small sandy beach that looked just right for swimming.

  Despite the heat, the water was colder than it had been the day before when Tanya had swum off the dock. She contented herself with wading in the edge. Richard sat on a rock, his fishing line over the side.

  Tired of paddling aroun
d in the water, Tanya lay back on the beach to sun herself. Her eyes closed as she caught up on sleep from the night before.

  She awoke some time later to the smell of burning wood.

  Richard had built a small fire on the beach and was cooking something.

  "Did you catch a fish?" she asked, getting up to move closer to him.

  "Two," he smiled. "Not bad for the first time out in three years."

  Tanya wrinkled her nose, "They smell good."

  Richard had filleted the small bass he had caught. They ate the fish, plus the rolls and cheese and cans of pop she'd packed for lunch.

  Replete from the meal, Richard leaned against a rock as the fire burned its way down to ashes. Tanya thought that it felt a little cooler. She pulled her cotton T-shirt over her bikini top and shorts.

  Richard glanced at her through narrowed eyes. "Come here," she said softly.

  She went to him, letting him put his arm around her shoulders. His fingers slid beneath the neckline of her top, tracing a sensitive line across the top of her breast.

  Tanya caught her breath. She'd been waiting since yesterday for the continuation of his lovemaking. She moved closer to him.

  His mouth came down hard and demanding, parting her lips. She pressed herself against his hard chest delighting in the feel of his flesh against hers and wound her arms around his neck. She could feel the sharp intake of his breath and the strong, rhythmic pounding of his heart against her own.

  Never had she felt more of a woman, and she exulted in the knowledge that this proud and independent man wanted her as much as she wanted him. His mouth moved down her throat to her shoulders, and then to the hollow between her breasts.

  A crack of thunder surprised them both. Richard lifted his head to gaze with passion-glazed eyes at a streak of lightning that flashed through the sky. Slowly, he eased himself away, momentarily oblivious of the large, splashy drops of rain that fell on his shoulders. There was a low, ominous rumble of approaching distant thunder.

  "Damn," Richard said despairingly.

  Tanya, looking up from under her lashes at his flushed face, could not restrain a giggle.

  "Hey," he said, glancing down at her. "What's so funny?"

  "Yesterday, and now today," she explained. "I guess the powers that be just don't want us to get together."

  Richard smiled wryly, tracing her jawline with his finger. "If it weren't for the fact that these electrical storms by the lake can be dangerous, I'd say to the devil with the powers that be—" He glanced around at the menacing black clouds and the white caps on the swelling gray lake. The rain was settling down to a heavy downpour drenching them both. "Come," he commanded, helping Tanya to her feet. "We'll have to get some shelter and wait this one out. It would be asking for trouble to go on the lake now."

  Together they turned the canoe upside down and propped it against the rocks. They crawled in under it and remained crouched in its shelter. Lightning was flashing all around them, punctuated by the grumble and roar of thunder. The rain was now coming down with a driving force and the wind swept branches and twigs off the trees causing them to fall all around them. The temperature had dropped considerably and Tanya could not stop shivering.

  About twenty minutes later the rain abated, and Richard peered out from under the canoe. It doesn't look too bad now," he commented. "Why don't we paddle like the devil and try to make it home between cloudbursts? I can't bear to see you shake like that. You will catch your death of cold."

  Tanya followed Richard out from under the canoe. She thought the lake looked far too rough to navigate but she did not want to contradict Richard. After all, he knew the waters far better than she did and she hated the idea of being a coward.

  They righted the canoe, pushed it into the water and set off. They were still surrounded by black clouds, but the squalls seemed to be moving away from them. Tanya hoped that they made it home before it poured again. Then before they were able to get around the point, they were suddenly in blinding rain, the wind whipping the lake into waves that bounced the small canoe around mercilessly. Rain, fanned into sharp pellets by the strong wind, tore into their flesh.

  Tanya took hold of the other paddle Richard pushed toward her. They both paddled furiously. After a while, she noticed that Richard's face was pale beneath his tan, and that he had drawn his mouth in a thin line.

  "Richard?" she shouted at him through the noise of the storm. The thunder and lightning seemed to be overhead now.

  "I'm okay," he snapped gritting his teeth against what Tanya knew must be a spasm of pain. She'd seen it all too often.

  Then she watched aghast as he slumped forward. The paddle dropped from his hand into the lake and was whipped away by the waves and wind.

  "Richard!" she yelled, but there was nothing she could do.

  Her arms arched as she tried to keep the little craft upright in the icy water. Sobs threatened at her throat, but she couldn't give way now. She needed all the strength she could muster to get them home safely.

  Richard seemed to be breathing steadily, but he was ghostly pale, his eyes closed. Had he fainted from the pain?

  She didn't dare look now.

  She paddled frantically in the bow of the canoe and maneuvered two complete circles before she could right herself. She hadn't had much training in boats. A Sunday afternoon on the River Thames at Oxford didn't compare to this. But at least she knew how to row and paddle. A helpful boyfriend had taught her that much.

  Waves splashed over the side of the canoe and started to fill the bottom. Tanya glanced apprehensively at Richard's still form. Gingerly, she picked her way to the stern, balancing precariously in the fragile craft shifting in the choppy water.

  She made Richard as comfortable as she could, then moved to the stern to paddle both sides, keeping the shoreline as her bearing.

  Finally she rounded a bend in the lake and saw the outlines of the house high up on the bluff. Hugging the shore, she made for their dock.

  Richard seemed to be coming to. He opened his eyes and shook his head. "Sorry," he muttered, glancing down at the water sloshing around him.

  "Don't move," she told him breathlessly. "We're nearly there." But she wasn't at all sure that they were going to make it. Her arms ached in their sockets and the muscles in her back had tightened with exhaustion. Everything she wore was soaked.

  They neared the shore. The dock was now only a few hundred yards away. Richard had managed to sit up and was running his hands through his wet hair. Little rivulets ran down his face and onto his chest.

  Then at last the iron ring on the dock was in reach. Tanya grabbed for it and missed. The canoe rocked wildly in the wind. She reached for the ring again, this time managing to hold on. She dragged them against the dock. Then after tying the rope securely around the ring, she leaned down to help Richard out.

  "You'll have to help me," she muttered kneeling beside him. "Please."

  He was able to get to his feet when they were on the dock.

  She could hear him grit his teeth with the pain as he took her arm to lean on her.

  Tanya didn't know how long it took them to get up the rocky incline. She just knew sheer relief when they were inside the warmth and dryness of the house.

  She managed to get Richard into a hot bath. "Do you want something for the pain?" she asked, as she checked the medicine cabinet.

  "Nothing," he said, easing himself down into the warm water.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Of course I'm sure," he said harshly. Then sighed. "It's just a dull backache now. I'll survive." He tried to smile, the color coming back into his lean cheeks. "I'm sorry. Look you'd better get into a bath yourself."

  "I will." She moved toward the door.

  "Thanks, Tanya," he said. "I guess I owe you my life."

  "It was nothing," she told him feeling close to tears. She was probably suffering from shock herself, but she didn't want to be the one to crack up.

  After a quick hot bath she put o
n her robe and went through to the kitchen to prepare some hot chocolate.

  When she took Richard's in to him, he had found his way to the bed and lay propped up on pillows with a sheet covering his body.

  She handed him the chocolate.

  "How are you feeling?" she asked, shy now that the emergency was over.

  "Better," he raised an eyebrow. "I thought this was all over."

  "I guess you overdid it,"