“Oh?” He asked, wondering if what he was hearing was too good to be true.
Taking him by the hand, she lead him to the couch and urged him out of his clothing.
Once he was sitting naked before her, she smiled and took him in her hand.
“Consider this a return of the many naughty little favors you’ve granted me.”
“Oh Miranda!”
Chapter Fourteen:
Sunday morning, in nothing short of a miracle, Miranda woke before Brian.
Her sunburn had woken her up – according to the clock in the kitchen, it was barely six o’clock in the morning.
Brian would no doubt be up soon...
He had mentioned that he went for his driveway runs around six thirty.
Wearing nothing but her green silk robe, she had a go at the creation of scrambled eggs and cooked bacon in another frying pan.
By twenty after six, breakfast was ready.
Miranda walked up the stairs, to the door of the guest bedroom where Brian was sleeping.
Involuntarily, her fingers brushed against the smooth surface of the white door.
Fanciful images flashed through her mind – images of what Brian might look like, at this moment, on the other side of this door.
She felt only the slightest twinge of shame for thinking about him in a purely sexual way but the shame was soon overwhelmed by interest.
Was he lying there in a tangle of blue sheets, his long, powerfully athletic body bared to the kiss of the morning sun?
“God Miranda, get a grip.” She breathed and knocked on the door. A bit louder, she said, “Brian?”
“I’m up. You can come in.” And so, she opened the door.
He was disappointingly fully dressed, looking out the bedroom window at the river beyond.
So much for tangled sheets and awesome nudity, she thought.
The morning light was flattering on him, making his skin look more like copper than bronze.
“Breakfast is ready.”
“I know – I heard you preparing it.” He arched a bushy black eyebrow. “What is it?”
“Scrambled eggs, bacon and rye toast.”
He smiled up at her and she was weakened by the gentle joy of his smile.
“Thanks, love.” He rose to his feet, walked over to her and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. “I’ll just go for a short run and then I’ll eat. Smells great.”
Miranda waited for him to come back in before she ate herself.
It was far more entertaining to dine with company, after all.
Upon entering the house, some fifteen minutes later, it was with the smile still on his face and a kiss for her.
“That boy, Tommy, did a good job of the lawn.” He sat across from her and wiped the sweat from his brow. “It’s going to be a lovely day, Miranda. What are your plans? I know we’ll be house-boating with the Clarions tonight but...”
“Yes, I’d almost forgotten about Ben and Mabel. And laying in the sun is now out of the question.” She scooped scrambled egg unto her plate. “I’ll probably laze around the house for the hottest part of the day and go swimming later. I’m on vacation, anything goes.”
Vacation? Thought Brian. Love, you’ve been on vacation since you left school three years ago. Trips to Europe and South America and Asia, according to her Uncle Russ... Vacation indeed!
“And how about you?” Miranda asked him. “What are your plans?”
“How serious are you about your tae kwon do studies?”
“Very serious,” she answered, in a manner that Brian found laughable.
He hadn’t seen her execute a single sit up, push up or round-house kick since he had arrived.
And he watched her every move – he would have known if she was training.
“Well, we could train together, keep in shape and out of trouble.” He suggested. “I could help you with your targets, your sequences. We could light contact spar, that sort of thing.”
“I’d like that,” she replied hesitantly. “Just as soon as the sting goes out of my sun burn.” She paused. “Which reminds me, we’re going to need more aloe.”
They went to the store later that morning and was introduced to Betty’s in-laws, Sara and Albert Tyson. Sara was as plump as her husband and a cheerful sort of woman, where Albert was tall and lean.
“Now that looks like a painful sunburn,” Sara cooed, after introductions had been made.
“It is.” Miranda could feel the tight burning ache all over her body.
“I suppose you’ll want something to relieve it, then?” Asked Albert.
“Aloe vera gel, if you have it.”
“Come on, I’ll show you.” Sara led the way to the toiletries section of the Emporium.
“You’re one big fella,” said Albert, sizing Brian up.
“I know, mate.”
“Who did you say you were again?”
“Miranda’s brother, Brian.”
“Strange, Russ never mentioned having a nephew.” Albert scratched his bearded chin thoughtfully.
Brian offered the man a smile. “Funny, I’ve been hearing that a lot.”
Albert’s curiosity was piqued. “Your accent isn’t British, eh?”
“Australian.”
“If you’re Australian and Miranda isn’t...”
“It’s a long dull story, mate, believe me, it is.” Feeling awkward about lying to honest folk like these, Brian was relieved to see Miranda returning to the counter with the large container of aloe vera gel.
* * *
“Oh, yeah.” Miranda moaned.
“You like that, love?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Like that?”
“Oh, lower, lower...”
“You want lower, I’ll give you lower!” He let his fingertips slide lower..
“Oh, God, Brian, that feels so good.”
“You want more?”
“Yes, more, more!” Miranda nearly cried out with excitement. “Ye-e-sss.”
“You sound like you’re having an orgasm, love.”
Miranda squirmed Beneath Brian’s nimble, attentive fingers. “I may as well be. That’s heavenly.”
“It was a good idea, refrigerating the aloe vera gel before using it.” He grinned down at her. “Heavenly, huh? Remind me to get sunburned one of these days.”
“Not a wise thing to do, Brian, trust you me.”
He attended to her long, sexy legs next, working the gel in with the diligence of the most skillful masseuse.
The cool gel touched her thirsty, hot skin and was soaked in almost immediately, relieving some of the discomfort.
The burn didn’t hurt too much anymore so much as it was tight feeling and warm to the touch.
The only place it hurt was where her skin touched the Navajo blanket beneath her...
“I haven’t seen a burn this bad since my kid sister Kelly went surfing at Port Macquarie for her sixteenth birthday.”
“I’ve been sunburned once before, in Mexico. Believe it or not, it was even worse than this.”
“Worse than this? I find that hard to believe.”
“Believe it.”
“Learn your lesson this time?”
“Did I ever. I’m never going to fall asleep in the sun again, sunscreen or no.”
A long silence passed between them, as Brian’s hands reluctantly moved away from her most erogenous zone.
Miranda was curious. “Tell me about your younger sister, Kelly.”
“She’s a brat. Even at twenty nine years of age. She’ll always be a brat. Almost as stubborn as you are, too.”
“I am not stubborn.”
“Oh but you are and I adore you for it.” He kissed her neck briefly. “Where was I... oh yes, Kelly. Pretty little thing she is, too, with her big blue eyes and long blond hair.”
“She sounds as though she looks nothing like you.”
“She takes after my mother’s side of the family.” He explained. “I look like my father di
d. But you can tell we’re related – we have the same nose and chin. The proud Logan visage.”
“Do you see much of her?”
“Not since she became a photographer for Regional Geographic. That girl’s always globe trotting, jet setting somewhere or other. Never in one place long enough to call it home.” He paused and she heard a bit of brotherly concern in his voice as he spoke next. “She’s lived out of a suitcase and a backpack since she was nineteen. I wouldn’t be surprised if she never lays down roots. She enjoys her lifestyle too much.”
Miranda purred as Brian found her sunburned shoulders with more of the cool aloe gel. “And what about you? Where are your roots?”
“Back in Sydney. My Aunt Bernie’s still there, you see.” There was a note of longing in his voice. “Ah, Australia will always be home. Until I have a wife and kids of my own, to lay new roots. San Francisco’s the place I hang my hat.”
“For now?” she guessed.
“For now. And what about you? Do you call Fifteen Micmac Crescent home?”
“I’m not sure anymore,” she confessed with longing. “There’s San Francisco, surely enough. But Micmac Crescent has never really felt like home. I haven’t had a true sense of home since my parents and brother died. Uncle Russ and Aunt Nancee have tried to provide a home for me but it’s a poor imitation of the real thing.”
Brian sensed the pain in her heart.
What he would give, could he ease that pain...
“You miss them then, your parents, your brother...”
“Every day.” Miranda sighed. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think about them. If I hadn’t been sick with a fever the night that Dennis had his violin concert, I would have been with them when they died.”
“Russ said it was a car accident?” He probed.
“A semi driver fell asleep at the wheel. He ran his eighteen wheeler into my parents’ Jaguar. They say that my family would have died before the car even hit the water but I’m not so sure. I can only hope that it was quick and painless for them but I’ll never know for sure. I wasn’t there. There are times I’ve wished I would have been there... but I wasn’t.”
“Survivor’s guilt. The Fates can be cruel.” Brian knew it for a fact. “My parents died when their four seater airplane crashed into the Tasman Sea. Me and Kelly had been orphaned overnight and collected by our Aunt Bernie the next morning.” He paused, swept somewhere distant by the memory. “Thank God for Aunt Bernie. She’s a saint, if ever there were one.”
He knew, too well, the pain of losing one’s parents... Kelly and Bernie were all he really had for family.
Suddenly, he felt guilty for having not called either one of the Logan women for weeks.
Must call and see how they’re doing, he decided, massaging more gel into Miranda’s shoulders.
“So we’re both orphans,” she mused aloud.
“I’m so sorry for your loss Miranda.”
He kissed the top of her head.
“So am I, Brian.” Miranda wiped the single tear forming at the corner of her eye. “So am I...”
* * *
They celebrated Independence Day three days after Canada Day, on the fourth of July.
They were fishing at Balkan’s Hole, making a day of it, when suddenly, the cloudy sky burst into rain, drenching them by surprise.
“Reel in, Brian.” Miranda laughed, as her shirt was permeated by rain.
“I’m reelin’, I’m reelin’!”
Brian pulled up the anchor, set it on the floor of the boat.
A moment later, Miranda fired up the motor and they were speeding away from Balkan’s Hole through the rain, toward her uncle’s cabin.
They secured the boat in the boathouse, closed the boathouse door and wriggled out of their wet life jackets.
Laughing, shivering, they fell into each others’ arms.
“Let’s go inside.” Miranda smiled provocatively at Brian and watched his pupils swell and darken with sensual awareness.
Even in the half light she could see the sultry glittering of his grey eyes as they drifted over her rain slick body, as intimate as a caress.
His mouth, though set in a firm, amused line, could not hide the sensuality of his lower lip...
Slowly, Brian looked her over, from the crown of her head to the drops of water that dripped from her long, dark hair, to the moistness of rain on her lips.
Lower his gaze went, to her long, graceful throat, the supple swell of her breasts.
Was it just his imagination, or were her breasts bigger than when he had first seen her in the buff?
Her nipples darker now?
Her tank top was soaked through, clinging to her in a way that appealed and tantalized...
A dull, smoldering ache crept up from Miranda’s womb and spread through her limbs beneath the attention of Brian’s wandering gaze.
It was a sweet, thrumming ache she knew only too well, as the mark of her desire within her.
When at last Brian stepped forward and Bent his head to capture the soft, fevered flesh of her mouth, his lips were warm and supple and oh so endearing.
The gentle, intoxicating demand of his mouth was so tender, so reverent, that the hesitancy of his touch was bittersweet agony to her.
Finally his hands found her aching breasts and brought them what warmth they could from the other side of the wet tank top...
His mouth moved to her neck, his breath tingling her there.
It was a long moment before Miranda began to shiver with chill.
“You’re trembling.” Brian observed the obvious.
“I kn-now.” Her teeth chattered and she shuddered all the more.
“We better get you out of these wet clothes.” He opened the entrance door of the boathouse. “Let’s go.”
Rain pelted them as they dashed back through the yard to the cabin, Miranda before Brian.
Her hands shook as she tried to fit the key in the door.
Brian steadied her hand with his own, warming her.
In another moment, they were in the cabin, dripping on the earthen tile floor.
Lightning flashed behind them, across the river.
A few heartbeats later, thunder clapped, loud and rumbling, causing the floor to tremor beneath their feet.
“Strip,” said Brian softly, as he began to remove his own wet T-shirt.
With shaking hands, Miranda didn’t argue and instead did as he suggested, peeling off the clinging wet tank top and her drenched denim shorts. Her sunburn was now faded into a soft tawny brown tan, a color that complimented her dark hair, green eyes and soft pink lips, according to Brian.
Upon removing her sandals, she stood naked before him, shivering.
The moment his last article of clothing hit the floor, she was upon him.
“Brian, warm me up,” she pleaded, rushing into his embrace.
Against the slick heat of his bare chest, she found warmth and comfort but shivered just the same.
His strong arms wrapped around her, encircling her lean waist and trembling shoulders, drawing her near. She wrapped her arms around him in kind, scaling the taut, rippling muscles of his back.
She heard him groan with sexual hunger and she quivered within as she clung to him recklessly, reveling in all the heat his larger body had to offer her smaller, feminine one.
His head rested atop her shoulder, his hair dripping there with hers. His mouth moved to the space behind her right ear and his tongue probed there with an intimacy that sent her senses reeling.
“I know how to warm us both up,” he whispered, his lips grazing down the length of her neck, to her collar bone and back to her ear.
“I bet you do.”
“I’ll start the fireplace, love.”
Miranda felt a twinge of disappointment.
“I was hoping that maybe we could...uhm...”
“The fireplace is only for background heat,” he told her. “Ambiance. I intend to light your fire myself.”
“Oh.
”
As his kisses began anew to trail over her shoulder, her blood began to stir and heat, with an odd tingling sensation that moved through her veins. Her nerve endings came to life at his caress, as did the rest of her.
The ache in her core intensified, becoming a need and itch that only he would be able to scratch for her, as he had done so many times before...
“Oh, Brian...”
He collected the Navajo blanket from the couch and led her to the fireplace. He treated the logs there to a bath of lighter fluid and lit them – they burst into flame, emanating heat.
Her bodyguard spread the blanket on the floor, before the fireplace and urged Miranda to lay down.
“I’ll be right back.” He promised and left her that he might ascend the stairs. Shivering only occasionally now, she was able to appreciate his firm behind as he walked. He returned a short time later, condom in hand. “Out of a dozen, we only have the one left.”
“A shame,” she said demurely, posing provocatively for him on the blanket.
The kitchen light flickered once and then went out.
The only light left in the room was that of the fireplace.
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
“Come here, Brian and light my fire...”
He knelt before her feet and kissed her ankles. He grazed his fingertips over the inside of her calves, her thighs and it was at the valley between her legs that his mouth and fingers came to rest, delighting her with a small eternity of intimate pleasures.
He satisfied her smaller needs with absolute tenderness and then covered her with his body and kissed her with great passion as his fingers continued their work.
She cried out, her heart pounding in her chest, as she clung to him for support.
He whispered in her ear, “You’re beautiful by firelight, you know that?”
Head swimming from the ascent of her soul to ecstasy, she had barely heard him. “That was marvelous, Brian.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied, kissing her again.
“Make love to me.”
He needed no further encouragement. The moment he sheathed himself in her soft, yielding flesh, it was as though their separate selves became one, merged for the purpose of greater love.
Guarding Miranda Page 21