by Nora Roberts
“She did have a great body,” Jordan recalled.
“Anyway, I was pretty obsessed with Patsy that summer. Actually I was mostly obsessed with sex, but Patsy was the headliner. So in the beginning of it, I was back there, in the woods by the Peak. Then Flynn starts screaming like a girl—”
“How do you know it wasn’t Jordan?” Insulted, Flynn sulked over his bagel. “How come I have to scream like a girl?”
“Take it up with Kane,” Brad suggested. “At that point, I was just whacked out. You were both screaming and calling for me. But it started to go off, just a little. The wind, the fog, the cold. It was overkill, and it started to click in my head. When I saw you, the two of you lying there, I lost it again for a minute. Then I was sliding on Flynn’s brains, or maybe his intestines.”
“Trying to eat here,” Flynn complained.
“It was too much, you know? And it wasn’t holding. I wasn’t sixteen anymore, not in my head. He’d lost the grip, I guess you could say. And I knew it was him. I knew it was bullshit.”
Brad rose to get the coffeepot. “Going over it for the last couple hours, I figured out what he was trying to do.”
“Separate us,” Jordan said.
“Got it in one. Isolate me—sitting alone while you two are off together. Then finding you mauled when you’d been calling to me for help.”
“Then having us turn on you,” Flynn finished. “The zombie twins. Pits us against you. How are you going to trust, much less work with, a couple of guys who try to eat your brains? I’ve seen the movies,” he added. “That’s what zombies do.”
“He wanted me to feel alone and alienated, and threatened.”
“Maybe worse,” Jordan added. “If you hadn’t yanked yourself out, we might have done some damage. When he tries for you again, he’ll be more direct.”
“That’s okay.” Brad picked up his coffee. “So will I.”
“I think you need more than your dashing good looks when you’re taking on a sorcerer, pal,” Flynn pointed out.
Nodding, Brad picked up the knife beside his plate, flipped a thumb over the tip. “Even sorcerers bleed.”
“Are you planning on telling Zoe what happened?” Jordan asked.
“Yeah. We stick together on this, until it’s done. I thought I’d run by Indulgence this morning.”
“She’s not going in until afternoon,” Flynn told him. “Malory said she had things to take care of at home first.”
“Even better.”
HE finished up a call on his cell phone as he pulled in behind her car, then took a minute to plug in the new appointment on his Palm Pilot. Thinking of the meeting with his architect, the expansion plans, and the changes he wanted to implement in the design, he walked to the front door and knocked.
All of that dropped right out of his head when she answered.
She was wearing jeans ripped at both knees and one of those belly-baring tops. It was the bar today, he noted. That erotic little silver bar glinting in her navel.
Her feet were bare, with toes painted an Easter-egg pink, thin and enormous silver hoops swung at her ears. And she held a rag that smelled strongly of lemon.
“I’ve been cleaning,” she said quickly. “I just finished in the bedroom.” As if realizing she held her polishing rag, she stuffed it into her back pocket. “I needed to have some time around here before I went in today.”
“Okay.” He stepped in, managed to take his eyes off her long enough to look around the living room. Every inch of wood gleamed, every piece of glass sparkled. “You’ve been busy.”
“Cleaning gets my mind going, and I was thinking about the house. That maybe the house is part of it. And if I took the time, paid attention to it, to everything in it, things might—What is it?” Flushing a little under his unblinking stare, she rubbed at her cheek. “Is my face dirty?”
“Your face is perfect. It’s the most perfect face I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s nice to hear after I’ve been chasing dust bunnies.”
“Simon in school?”
“Yes.” Her eyes widened as she recognized the glint in his. “Well, for heaven’s—it’s almost ten in the morning. Don’t you have to work?”
“I do.” He stepped forward as she backed up. “But I made a little time because I needed to talk to you. Looks like talk’s going to have to wait.”
“We can’t just . . .” Could they?
“I bet we can. Let’s try this.”
He scooped her right up, and her stomach did a long, lovely roll as he started back toward her bedroom.
“Golly.” She couldn’t quite stop the nervous giggle. “Just like in a romance novel. Except I’d be wearing something sexier than old jeans.”
She smelled of her furniture polish and ripe plums. “There’s nothing sexier than old jeans when you’re in them.”
“Oh, that’s good.” Delighted, she nuzzled his neck. “That’s really good.” She nipped at his earlobe. “I’ve got laundry going. It sort of backed up on me the last few days. So . . . I’m not wearing anything under these jeans.”
He turned his head, looked into her laughing eyes. “Oh, yeah, then talk definitely has to wait.”
Her arms linked around his neck as he laid her on the bed, and she drew him in, welcoming. “This must be my reward for doing all my chores,” she murmured.
“I’ve thought about making love with you again ever since I made love with you.”
He took her lips with his, rubbed gently, then sank deep.
It was like her own personal miracle, Zoe thought as she let herself float on the moment. Being swept up and away by a man who could make her feel as precious as diamonds.
He kissed her as though he could spend his life doing nothing else but mating his lips and hers. He would spend time in the warmth even when she could feel the need for heat pulsing from him. The quiet joy of it, of him, wound around her heart in soft, silky ribbons.
He touched her as though her body was a delicate treasure he would never tire of exploring. Each caress with those marvelous hands soothed, stirred, and promised. The sweet wonder of it slid through her blood like wine.
Here, in the morning sunlight, was patience that glided over her in long, almost lazy strokes. She let herself rise under them and drift down again as the world outside went on its busy way without her.
Stealing time for each other added a gauzy layer to intimacy.
He toyed with flesh exposed by ripped denim, skimmed his fingers along where her blouse rode up. Heard the low sound of arousal as he traced the silver bar. When his lips nibbled down her throat, she turned her head and sighed.
All the worries, all the fatigue that had dogged her melted away.
He could feel her yield to him, to the pleasure, hear her breathing thicken as he took his time. Could she know what it meant to him to be with her like this, with the sun streaming through the windows and the house empty and quiet around them?
Could she know how much he needed her when he was only beginning to understand it himself?
He hadn’t known until that moment just how much he had to give, so desperately wanted to give. What he was, what he had, what he felt, what he imagined. His mouth covered hers again, and he offered all.
Her heart bounded into her throat, her hands clutching his shirt as emotions engulfed her. More than pleasure, more than the promise of it flooded through those seductive sensations. Trembling, she slipped under.
This was what he needed—the utter surrender to each other. Where there was no one and nothing but the two of them. “I want to look at you.” He rained kisses over her cheeks before easing her top over her head. “Just to look at you.”
Watching her, looking into those heavy, dazed eyes, he slid the denim down.
Smooth skin and subtle curves, long, almost balletic limbs. Those slumberous eyes and that siren’s mouth. She was, he thought, such a fascinating combination of the fragile and the exotic.
Bending, he pressed his lips to the top of her th
igh, gliding them slowly down over sensitive flesh as she shuddered.
He teased closer to the heat with his tongue. “I want you to lie there. And let me do things to you.”
She couldn’t have stopped him. She was already steeped in need, awash in sensation. When the first shock of heat slammed through her, she wrapped her fingers around the iron bars of the bed and let him take her anywhere he wished.
Here was glory and wonder. Those hands, so exquisite in their patience, unlocking every secret. That mouth tender and thorough, devouring her by inches. She bowed up as the orgasm catapulted through her, and still he didn’t stop.
Emotion careened against emotion, feeling against feeling until it seemed her senses were alive with light, her skin shimmering with it. And each time the ache built again, she welcomed it.
He was lost in her, aware of nothing but what she gave, and what he was compelled to take. Each time her body shuddered, there was more.
He rose over her. She encircled. He slid into her. She surrounded.
Slowly, still slowly, to drain every drop of pleasure even as it drenched them. The rise and fall of bodies, the beat of blood, the trip of pulse locked the world outside of that sun-filled room.
Somewhere time ticked away, cars rumbled past on the street, a dog barked at squirrels in a backyard, but she knew nothing but him. Heard nothing as she teetered on the edge of the world but her name, spoken almost like a prayer.
Then her own cry of joy as she leaped with him.
NO one, at any time or in any place, Zoe decided, had ever felt better than she did right here and now. No one had ever been more completely seduced or thoroughly pleasured.
Drifting in the afterglow, she stroked her fingers through Brad’s hair.
His head rested between her breasts, and his hand covered hers at her side. It was the sweetest combination of sensations, she’d ever felt.
“I’m so glad you dropped by,” she said sleepily, and smiled when she felt his lips curve against the side of her breast.
“Glad you happened to be home.”
“This is all so . . . gorgeous. Lying here, all naked and satisfied at . . .” She turned her head to check the clock. “Mmm, ten minutes to eleven in the morning. Better than winning the lottery.”
He lifted his head and grinned at her. “And then some.”
“You’re so handsome. I keep thinking you look like one of those slick-looking guys in my hairstyle magazines.”
He grimaced. “Please.”
“Really. You could use a trim, though.” She spread her fingers in his hair. “I could take care of that for you.”
“Ah . . . Maybe sometime. Or other.”
She gave the hair she held a friendly tug. “I’m very good, you know, at what I do for a living.”
“I’m sure you are. Absolutely.” To distract her, he pressed a kiss to her collarbone, then rolled aside. “I really did come by to talk to you.”
“You can talk while I give you a trim. Hairdressers are like bartenders. We’re trained to talk and work at the same time.”
“I bet. But this probably isn’t the best time. We should get dressed.”
“Coward.” She sat up, wrapped her arms around her updrawn knees.
“I’ll accept that for the moment.” He rose to find his pants. “Zoe, last night—well, more accurately early this morning—I had an experience.”
The playful mood vanished as she scrambled to her knees. “Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”
“No.” He picked up her top, held it out. “You’re going to need to stay calm while I tell you.”
He dressed while he related the story.
Her initial fear had abated. He was unhurt, she could see that for herself. And he was steady, God knew. Maybe just a little too steady.
“You think he was using Jordan and Flynn against you—or wanted you to think they were against you.”
“That sums it up.”
“He doesn’t understand people, or love, or friendship. He doesn’t understand you, that’s for certain, if he thought that would make you feel isolated or frighten you off. It just made you more involved.”
The faintest smile ghosted around his mouth. “You seem to understand me.”
She studied his face. “I don’t know that I do, but I do understand how you are with Jordan and Flynn. Why did he pick that night? Because you were young, because it was near the Peak? Everything means something now. We’re so close everything means something.”
He nodded, pleased that their thoughts were running along the same lines. “I think it was both. While we were young, and more easily molded. Before we knew you or Mal, before Jordan looked at Dana as someone other than Flynn’s sister. That was the night Jordan saw Rowena walking on the parapet at the Peak.”
He paused, smoothed the cuffs of his shirt. “I was sixteen that night, Zoe. The same age you were when you left home.”
“Oh.” She wrapped her arms around herself as if she’d just felt a chill. “You think that means something?”
“I don’t think we can afford to discount anything as coincidence. It was an important night for me, and for Flynn and Jordan. Didn’t seem like it at the time, really. Just one of those reckless summer nights. But we were on that brink where you step away from childhood, toward manhood. You were the same age when you took your step.”
“It was different for me.”
“Yeah. But maybe if Kane could have twisted what happened that night, at least in my mind, he could have twisted how I think about it now. And what I did after. How I feel about Flynn and Jordan has a lot to do with why I’m back here, and how I met you.”
“So if he’d driven a wedge between you, even had them hurt you—well, not them but what you believed was them, it might have weakened what we all have. Or even destroyed it.”
“I think that was part of the plan.”
Uneasy, she pressed her lips together. “He failed, so he’ll be angry.”
“Yeah, he’ll be angry. I don’t think any of us should spend much time on our own for the next few days. I want you and Simon to stay at my place.”
“I can’t—”
“Zoe, take a minute.” Already prepared for objections and excuses, he stepped closer and laid his hands on her shoulders. “Whatever has to be done to finish this is going to involve both of us. We should stick together as much as we can. And beyond that, I want you with me. Both of you.”
“That’s the tricky part. How am I supposed to explain to him that we’re staying with you?”
“He knows enough about what’s going on to accept it. And do you really think he’s going to object to the idea of easy access to my game room?”
“No. No, I don’t.” She eased out from under his hands, got to her feet. “Bradley, I just don’t want him . . . I know what this sort of thing is like for a child. After my father left us, there always seemed to be a man moving in for a little while.”
His face went stony. “This isn’t like that. It’s more important than that on every possible level. Zoe, you and Simon aren’t temporary in my life.”
Her breath clogged. “You need to slow down.”
As impatience pumped through him, his voice toughened. “Maybe you need to speed up. You don’t want me to tell you what you mean to me, what I feel for you?”
“How can either of us think clearly about that?” Desperate for breathing room, she moved over to twitch at the curtains. “You don’t know what I’m going to mean or what you’re going to feel after this is done. We’re caught up in something now, and it—it magnifies everything.”
“I was caught up in you the first instant.”
“Don’t do this.” Her breath hitched now as it squeezed around her heart. “You don’t know how this could hurt me.”
“Maybe I don’t. Tell me.”
“I can’t do this now.” Though she damned herself for a coward, she turned back toward him and shook her head. “Neither can you. We both have to go.”
&
nbsp; He caught her chin in his hand, laid his lips on hers. “We’re going to talk about this, and a great deal more. But let’s deal with living arrangements for now. If you don’t want to stay at my place, I’ll stay here. But I’d like you to think about doing it my way. I’ll come by after work, and we’ll sort it out.”
Chapter Fourteen
BY twelve-thirty, Zoe was installing the track lighting in Dana’s bookstore. They’d made the decision to concentrate on one area of the building that afternoon until the final details in that section were complete. In a fast contest of rock, paper, scissors, Dana had won the round.
“It makes sense to me.” Dana filled a small spin rack with greeting cards. “There’s more room at Brad’s place, and he has a cleaning service. He’s also been known to cook in a pinch. You could concentrate on the key, and your salon, and let everything else go until the end of the month.”
It was logical, Zoe admitted. It was even sensible. But . . . “It’s not as simple as that. How can I follow through on the idea that my house may be a part of this if I’m not in my house?”
“Has that taken you anywhere?” Malory asked her.
“No, it doesn’t seem as if it has, but it’s only been a couple of days since I started working that angle.”
When this was met with silence, Zoe lowered her arms and sighed. “Okay, I know I should have felt something by now if it was important. But I can’t be positive.”
“Sounds like avoidance to me,” Dana said out of the side of her mouth.
In defense, Zoe slanted her a long, steely stare. “It is not avoidance. It’s . . . caution. And it’s not the same as Jordan staying in your apartment while the two of you wait to move up to the Peak, or Malory moving in with Flynn. You’re engaged. And I’ve got Simon to think about.”
“Brad’s crazy about Simon,” Malory pointed out.
“I know that.” She lifted her electric screwdriver to finish attaching the track to the ceiling. “But that doesn’t mean we should pack up and move in. I don’t want Simon confused about me and Brad—the sex—or getting used to that big house and all the things, and the attention, and the, well, the everyday accessibility to Brad.”