Paige loosened her grip so her knuckles weren't white. But as soon as their car started forward, she tightened it again. Go with it, she told herself. Go with it.
The mantra lasted until they started to ascend the first steep hill. She shut her eyes.
Clay whispered in her ear. "You can't see with your eyes closed."
His breath on her lobe caused chills to break out on her arms. "What's there to see?" she squeaked, taking a peek.
"Look over there at the gardens, the brilliant colors. See the lake and..."
"Uh-oh. I think I want to get off." They'd almost reached the top of the hill.
Clay put his hand over hers. "Take a deep breath and--"
His words were lost in the screams and rush of air as they plunged over the top and down to a bottomless valley. At least it felt that way. Paige couldn't tell if the scream she'd heard was hers or someone else's.
She had no time to recover from the first swoop. They ascended a second incline and zoomed to earth again. She'd just caught her breath when the car swerved around a sharp curve. She was thrown against Clay and as the car took another sharp drop, her arm went around his chest so she could hold on to something stable.
She felt his sharp intake of breath. She heard the pounding of his heart. The warm feel of him against her cheek was her ballast against the wild ride.
The car screeched to a slower speed then coasted to the end of the line. Neither of them moved. The thumping of his heart was louder. The heat emanating from under his shirt steamier. If she rubbed her cheek against him, what would he do?
She wasn't courageous enough to find out. Lifting her head, she found his lips only inches away. His green gaze mesmerized her, and suddenly she went on a second roller coaster ride that had nothing to do with the ride in the amusement park.
He cupped her chin in his hand and caressed her face. In a moment he'd...
"Miss. Mister. We're loadin' up."
A teenager stood beside the track, waiting to unhitch the safety bar so they could disembark. A long line of patrons waited to climb into the cars.
Paige broke away from Clay and knew she was turning at least three shades of red. "Sorry." She didn't glance at Clay, but stepped out and hurried down the ramp. She didn't stop until she reached the main thoroughfare.
When she stopped, Clay was close behind her. He asked casually, "Was it worth the thrill?"
He was talking about the roller coaster ride, but what she remembered was his hand on her cheek. "I'd try it again sometime." She was curious, intrigued, excited that Clay's touch could create the same sensations as a roller coaster. Had he felt anything as he held her? She wasn't brave enough to ask.
What if he kissed her? Then what? She'd be leaving; he'd be staying. Then again, what harm could one kiss do?
They went to the shows at the park between trying the rides. Paige was especially aware of Clay's nearness. He seemed careful not to touch her again. She wondered what was going through his head as they watched the performers sing and dance. The entertainment was professional, but her mind was on Clay.
The show-tune review over, they stepped out of the building. The sky was a more sullen gray. Dark clouds skittered by, blown by a breeze that hadn't been evident before.
Clay said, "A thunderstorm's brewing. Do you want to take a chance and get something to eat or leave now?"
"Let's get something to eat." She didn't particularly want the day to end. This having fun could be addictive, especially when she was having fun with Clay.
The lines of tourists had thinned so they didn't have to wait long for their food at the streetside restaurant. Clay carried their plates of burgers and fries to a table with an umbrella. Paige set down the drinks and napkins. But as soon as she did, the wind picked up the napkins, tossing them to the asphalt, then sending them across the street.
Clay waited until Paige sat before he took his seat. "We'd better eat fast if we don't want to get wet."
Paige took a bite from her hamburger. "Do you come here often?"
"Two or three times a season."
Her curiosity got the best of her. "Who with?"
"Trish and I usually come once. Friends other times."
That didn't tell her what she wanted to know. "Do you date much?"
He popped a few fries into his mouth. "Now and then."
She didn't swear. If she did, now would be the time. "No one can evade questions better than you."
"What do you want to know, Paige? Should I give you a list of women I've seen in the last six months?"
"Do you have one?"
He was stone silent for a moment, then he laughed and tweaked the end of her nose. "For a minute there, I thought you were serious."
She wasn't sure if she was or not. "I just wondered if there was anyone...special."
The wind whipped up the side of Clay's plate. He held it with one hand, picked up his burger with the other, and didn't meet her gaze. "There's no one special."
His voice was rough as if the admission was difficult, and she knew she'd better drop the subject. Their close contact on the roller coaster had ended their ability to have comfortable conversation. Now everything seemed to be a land mine.
Large drops of rain plopped on the umbrella and the pavement. Clay stood. "Do you want to get stuck in a gift shop or make a run for the car?"
"Let's go to the car. We don't know how long it will last."
They dumped their plates and cups and hurried toward the exit. When they'd walked from the lot to the entrance, it hadn't seemed so far. Now with the drizzle and wind, the car was in no-man's-land. Halfway across the parking lot, the rain came down in earnest. It pelted Paige's face and molded her blouse to her body. By the time Clay unlocked the passenger side of the SUV and opened the door for her, she was drenched.
She climbed in and unlocked his side. He slid in with a rush and slammed the door. He rested his arms on the steering wheel then looked over at her. "Think we made the wrong choice?"
She laughed--a free laugh that floated around the inside of the car. Clay joined in.
She wiped laugh-tears away from her eyes and pushed her wet hair behind her ears...and shivered.
Clay must have seen it because he turned in his seat and fished on the floor in the back for something. He lifted a black flannel jacket and handed it to her. "Wipe off with this and put it around your shoulders." He flipped on the ignition. "I'll turn on the heater."
"You're wet, too."
He jabbed the buttons on the dashboard. "I'll dry."
She shook the sleeve of the jacket at him. "It'll be over an hour until we get home."
"I'm fine."
That macho attitude again. Taking the soft cuff in her hand, she leaned toward him. He didn't move.
She dabbed his forehead, his cheekbones, but when her ministrations slipped to his neck, he grabbed her wrist. "Enough, Paige."
It was a warning, but she felt reckless. She ran the material from his chin to his shirt collar. He closed his eyes and said sharply, "Paige..."
It was more than a warning this time. She dropped her hand into her lap. "I don't want you to catch a cold."
"As hot as I am at this moment, that could never happen."
She wasn't exactly sure what he meant and she wanted to find out. "The rain should have cooled you off."
"I'm talking about you, not the weather. Each time you touch me..." He swore. "We've got to get home."
He put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking place. After a few miles, he switched on the radio and she knew he didn't want to talk. She put the jacket around her shoulders, breathing in Clay's scent, rested her head against the seat, and tried not to think.
The storm became more severe the farther they drove. Paige could hardly see through the windshield and could imagine the difficulty Clay was having. But he didn't pull over. They traveled slowly but surely.
Eventually, he turned onto the road leading to Doc's. Suddenly Clay screeched to a halt.
He swore when she braced her hands on the dashboard, then murmured, "Sorry."
She caught her breath and asked, "What's wrong?"
Clay motioned through the windshield. "There's a tree across the road. They must have had a worse storm here. We'll have to go to my place and get dried off until it's cleared."
He didn't sound happy about it.
When they arrived at Clay's, they ran from the detached garage to the house. Inside, Paige shook off Clay's jacket. "Now it's wet, too."
"It doesn't matter." He motioned to the upstairs. "Go on. Take a hot shower so you don't get sick. There's a robe on the inside of the door. Drop your clothes outside and I'll throw them in the dryer."
"I should call Doc."
All business and practicality, Clay said, "I'll call him and tell him what's going on. He can let me know when they clear the road."
Trying to stop shivering, Paige went straight to the upstairs bathroom, undressed, and dropped her clothes outside the bathroom door. It felt strange to have someone taking care of her. She'd been on her own most of her life. Even when she'd been with her parents, they'd expected her to take care of herself. And she had. Proudly. But Clay caring about her felt...nice.
The hot shower warmed her to her bones. After she toweled off, she reached for Clay's robe. It fell to her feet. She wound the belt around her waist twice, feeling as if she were wrapped up in an oversized velour blanket.
She found a blow dryer under the sink and used her fingers to push her hair into order. Without a brush, the result was a fluffy brown mass framing her face. Coming out of the upstairs bathroom, she passed Clay's bedroom and couldn't help peeking in. The four poster pine bed looked king-size. It would have to be for Clay to be comfortable. The room had stark white walls broken only by the forest green and navy patterned drapes and bedspread. It was a masculine room. A picture of herself and Clay intertwined on the bed flashed before her eyes.
Paige quickly went downstairs. Shep lay in front of the fireplace as if he expected Clay to start a fire any time. Paige smiled until she stood in the doorway to the kitchen and saw Clay.
He was making a pot of coffee and his back was to her. He'd changed into a clean T-shirt and jeans. His hair was still damp but looked as if he'd taken a comb through it.
He heard her when she moved toward him. Turning, he gestured to the table. "There's a pair of socks if you want to--"
His eyes slowly ventured from her fluffy hair to her bare toes. His eyes darkened and seemed to burn into her.
She took a few more steps. "Did you call Doc?" Her mouth was dry and the words came out in a bumpy cadence.
"Yes. He was glad to know you were safe." Clay's voice was husky.
"Of course, I'm safe. I'm with you."
At that, Clay shook his head. "Paige, do you know how absolutely enchanting you are?" He reached for the lapel of his robe and straightened it carefully.
She cleared her throat. "It's a little big."
He slid his fingers through her hair, brushing it away from her face. "I've been trying not to touch you."
She wished he'd run his fingers through her hair again; it felt so good. But she tried to concentrate on their conversation. "Why?"
"Because I know I shouldn't kiss you."
Her throat tightened. "Would it be so terrible?"
He exhaled a huge sigh. "No."
"Clay..."
"When you look at me like that--" He tilted her head up and bent his.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The touch of Paige's lips broke Clay's control. His arms slipped from her face to her back and pulled her closer. Her kiss was tentative, and for a moment he thought about stopping. Then she sighed and the idea of his tongue touching hers swept restraint to a back corner of his mind.
When she raised her arms and threaded her fingers through his hair, he thrust into her mouth, demanding she respond. Her tongue slid over his then danced around it, inciting fires he'd thought would never burn again.
The inside of her mouth was seductive satin, the taste of her was as sweet as summer-ripe fruit, the feel of her in his arms created loneliness so deep, he sought to assuage it any way he could.
He'd intended to kiss her once, lightly, and let her go. Yes, it would have teased him. But he knew his own boundaries. He could tell when easy desire escalated into hungry passion. And he knew he could stop before the passion took over.
Before he could have stopped. Before Paige. As her tongue feverishly stroked his, the desire flared into passion, and then blazed into a ferocious elemental need. Clay lowered his hands to her waist, and as their bodies met, even with the barrier of clothes, the universe exploded. Paige's response changed, becoming almost frantic. Her fingers massaged his scalp and caressed his neck as she arched toward him. Could she possibly know what she was doing to him?
The world tilted. Reality went berserk. His mind spun as fast as all his senses. He was caught between needing and knowing he shouldn't. There was a threshold he shouldn't cross--one that led to intimacy and truth and heartache.
Clay knew he'd shut off this kind of passion. He'd shut off the hunger and yearning in order to make himself an emotionally comfortable life. Paige had wiped the comfort away. She'd shaken up his space and he was still trying to put a lid on the effects. So what the hell was he doing kissing her?
The kiss was more than it should have been, less than he wished it could be. Red-hot need laced his body until the desire surging through him aroused him to a height he'd never experienced. What about Paige reached down inside him, took hold, and wouldn't let go? She was just a woman.
Just a woman? No. A special woman. Too vulnerable. Too caring. Too...dangerous. He could lose the simplicity he held on to with both hands. He could lose himself. He couldn't take that chance.
He ended the kiss and lowered his arms. If he kept holding her, he'd want to hold her forever. Control wasn't so hard to maintain. Physical distance led to emotional distance.
Paige's expression was bemused. His robe gaped at her breasts and the creamy flesh made his fingers itch. He longed to touch her. He backed up. Physical distance was all he needed.
"Clay?"
"What?" He regretted the sharpness of the question, but he couldn't be tender now, not if he was to keep from kissing her again.
"Tell me how you feel."
So honest. How could he be just as honest and not hurt her? "I'm sorry I let that happen."
She looked deflated, disappointed. "I see."
No, she didn't, but this is the way it had to be. "Your clothes should be dry by now. I'll get them." He started toward the basement door, trying to still his shaking hands.
"Would you like me to start a fire in the fireplace?" Paige asked tentatively.
A fire, shadows, warmth, flames flickering on Paige's face. Talk about temptation. His first thought was no way. But then he looked at her bare feet, her arms wrapped around her as if she was cold. Maybe the hot shower hadn't taken away her chill.
"That's fine. There's kindling in the box behind the sofa."
She nodded.
Clay opened the door to the basement. She was one capable lady. One kiss wouldn't throw her off balance for long. As he descended the steps, he told himself that's what he believed.
****
Two days later, Paige was cooking supper when the telephone rang. She looked at it expectantly, hoping the caller would be Clay. She hadn't heard from him since he'd brought her home after the storm. Soon after she'd started the fire, Doc had called, saying the township office had sent men to remove the tree blocking the road.
The time she'd spent with Clay after the kiss had been awkward and stilted. She blamed her inexperience with men for believing the kiss had affected Clay as much as it had her. She'd felt excitement from the top of her head to her toenails. Her breasts had tingled and she'd wanted to press them against Clay. She relived the moments when his desire was hard against her. Her own deep, dark arousal had astounded her.
Somehow in the midst of all that, she'd known Clay possessed a strength she needed and that her feelings for him went deeper than she ever could have imagined.
But then he'd said...
She picked up the cordless handset and saw "out of area" on the caller ID. Her mother asked, "Paige, are you there?"
"Yes, Mom."
"I'm not having much success getting volunteers long distance. So I'm coming to the States for two weeks."
Paige's stomach lurched.
"There are a few doctors I want to speak with in Los Angeles," her mother went on. "They might be interested in working here for six months or a year. I'm also going to give presentations to classes of residents. Maybe I can wake up their social consciousness."
"You're flying just to Los Angeles?"
"Oh, no. Texas and Ohio, too. Then I thought I'd end up in Langley and we could fly back together."
Paige's heart skipped a beat. "When will that be?"
"Around the beginning of July. I can't give you exact dates because I'm going to mine the wealth wherever I find interested doctors."
"I might not be able to fly back with you. If Doc's not fully recovered--"
"Is he there? I'd like to talk with him."
"No, he's not. He drove to a friend's in Baltimore."
"It sounds like he's getting around just fine."
Paige could see improvement in Doc day by day. He was getting out more, visiting, walking. Just yesterday he'd started back at the office on a part time basis. But she didn't want to push him. "He's recuperating nicely. But I don't know if he's ready for a full-time practice yet."
"Of course, I understand that. But you know, Paige, at his age and in his condition, with the blockage fixed, he's in better shape than he was before the open-heart surgery."
Her mother, like always, was pushing to get what she wanted--Doc back in practice, her daughter by her side. Paige thought she'd at least have until the end of July to put her life in perspective. But it didn't look that way now.
"Mother, we have to talk."
"Yes, I know we do. We have plans to make. I've outlined our options for the next year and sent them to you. When I get to Langley, we can discuss them. I miss you. It's not the same without you here."
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