Skye wasn't willing to talk about herself. So what? Why should she tell him everything about herself, from the colour of her toothbrush to the size of her bra? A quick smile crossed his face. Well, at least he knew the answer to that question. He gently caressed the warm heavy globe in his hand—more than enough to drive a man wild. And, as for the toothbrush, he'd find out what colour it was in the morning.
Skye didn't seem the type to use her body for material gain. She was far too naïve to be playing that sort of game. If she were, she ought to be nominated for an Oscar for her most recent performance as she certainly had him fooled. No, Walker decided, Skye was just what she appeared to be, a single woman on an extended vacation. His mouth curved into an unconscious smile as he remembered the first time he'd seen her and how antagonistic they'd been towards each other.
He realized now what a fool he'd been to take his anger out on her. In his defense he could only offer the feeble excuse of lack of sleep—that and the fact that he'd found more evidence of illegal dumping only that morning. But to give Skye her due, she was quick to return his hostility with her own brand of hot temper. He would never forget the sight of her small frame bristling with ferocity as she stood up to him. Now that they'd stopping fighting and taken time to get to know each other, they had connected in a way he hadn't expected.
Walker tried to move the arm he was resting on into a more comfortable position. Skye yawned, and burrowed deeper, seeking the warmth of his body. As her soft skin brushed against his, his body responded, the heat pooling in his groin, making him want to bury himself in her all over again.
Only the embers burned in the gate. The air in the cabin was distinctly chilly.
"Skye, sweetheart, wake up. It’s cold and you don’t want to catch hypothermia. Come on, it’s time I took you to bed."
Skye blinked open her heavy eyes. She shivered. The scent of Walker's body and their love making filled her senses. Bed? Hadn't they done that already? Slowly she became more alert as Walker rubbed her arm, and realized he was right. She was chilled to the bone. She felt Walker’s lips on the back of her neck and eased her body away from his. He stood and looked down at her slender form, then stretched out a hand to her.
"Come on love, let's go to bed."
Skye didn't hesitate; she took Walker's hand and led him into the bedroom.
In the early hours of the morning while the moon still rode high in the sky, Skye lay next to Walker listening to his rhythmic breathing and marvelled at the beauty of the man beside her. The sheet barely covered his hips and her fingers longed to touch, to explore.
Slowly, she traced the line of his jaw. Her fingertips softly touched his lower lip. It wasn't enough. Her hand traced the line of his collarbone, luxuriating in the feel of the coarse hair on his chest. No longer able to stop her exploration, she found his nipples and drew a sensual circle around each. They hardened instantly, drawing a moan from Walker's lips. She leant over him, her hair touching his face and chest like a butterfly's wing, as she brushed her lips against his. Suddenly, his arms closed round her, pulling her to him. He opened his eyes and looked deeply into hers.
Skye lowered her mouth and used her tongue to continue the journey her fingers had begun. Walker lay still, allowing her to touch and taste him, as she slowly explored his body.
When he could take no more, he rolled on to his back. Their coupling was hot, demanding and as satisfying as it had been earlier. Skye rested her head on his chest, and fell asleep listening to the rhythmic drumming of his heart.
Someone in Skye's dream was whistling, and off key at that. Only it wasn't a dream, she really could hear someone whistling. Something else too—she could smell toast. No wait, burnt toast. She opened one eye, and closed it again quickly. Her room was bathed in brilliant sunlight. The brightness drove shards of pain into her fuzzy brain. She sat up and tipped her head away from the light before cautiously opening her eyes, and snatching her robe off the foot of the bed.
There was a man standing in her kitchen, and not any man, it was Walker.
"I wondered when you'd surface," he said.
Skye opened her mouth to speak and thought the better of it. She wanted to be in full charge of her thoughts before she uttered a word. Silently, she padded over to the sink, poured herself a large glass of water and drank it down in one gulp. The icy coldness was just what she needed to lift the fog from the grey cells in what passed for her brain.
Walker's eyebrows rose inquiringly. "Bad head?"
Her gaze took in the fact that he was wearing the clothes he'd had on the night before and now he really needed a shave.
She glared at him. "I haven't got a hangover if that's what you're implying."
He held up his hands defensively. "Hey, I was just checking. I can see the lady does not do mornings well." He watched Skye and wondered if this was the moment she was going to tell him to get the hell out of her kitchen, her life, and, just how much she regretted last night.
"Okay, concern accepted," she replied. "And before you ask, yes I do remember everything about last night, even you taking me to bed. It's just…well, I just didn't expect to find you still here, that's all." She pushed a hand through her tousled hair and blushed delicately at the memory of their passion.
Walker let out a relieved chuckle. So that's what was eating at her, finding him in her kitchen. He struggled hard to bring his features under control.
"I get it. Your lovers usually disappear into the night, do they? Wham, bam, thank you ma'am, is that what you expected? That's not my style at all. I happen to think that the first kiss of the morning is the most rewarding." He clasped her body to his and kissed her to prove his point.
Skye was speechless. Her bones had turned to jelly and most of her brain to mush. But her one remaining functioning brain cell had to agree.
"See what I mean?"
"Mm." Skye blinked and focused her gaze on Walker's strong features.
"Nope, you're really not a morning person are you, honey?" Amusement flickered in his eyes as they met hers.
Skye shook her muddled head. "No"
"That's all right. I'm wide-awake for both of us. Why don't you take your sweet ass off to the shower? By the time you get back, breakfast will be ready and on the table."
Walker swatted her derrière and pushed her in the general direction of the bathroom. He turned back to the stove, tied an apron around his waist, and deftly set about preparing the eggs.
Skye clamped her jaw tight shut, and tilted her head on one side. She stole a glance at him from under her lashes, before shaking her head and wandering off for her shower. She turned the faucet full on and allowed the hot water to stream over her. Unbidden, her mind turned to the man in the next room. Although her body showed no outward signs of their love making, she could feel the dull ache of desire as she recalled the loving Walker had given her. It was so long since she'd had a man in her bed that she hadn't expected to feel as attuned to her lover's wants and desires as she had with Walker. She was far more shaken than she cared to admit by the strength of their passion and her feelings for the tall dark man with the ice blue eyes, now cooking breakfast in her kitchen.
Yesterday morning she'd been a level headed businesswoman with only bitter memories. Today she was a woman who had given her body, her heart and probably her soul, to a tall, ruggedly handsome man with an irresistible smile.
"Two minutes," Walker called from the bedroom doorway.
Skye turned off the faucet, and towelled herself dry. By the time she had dressed and entered the kitchen, Walker was turning a fluffy omelet onto a plate.
"You lied."
"What do you mean, I lied?" Walker's face was grim. He turned away from the stove, and actively sought to remember what he’d said to make her think that way.
"You said two minutes. It's been more like seven and my breakfast still isn't on the table."
"Why you ungrateful—" The words died on his lips, as he saw the teasing laughter in her eyes.
"I see the shower woke you up."
"Sure did, sunshine. Now, am I going to have to start gnawing on your leg, or is some of that omelet for me?"
"That hungry, huh?" He placed a plate in front of her, and then poured some more of the egg mixture into the skillet.
Skye kept her face devoid of expression. "I seem to have quite an appetite this morning, must be something to do with the workout I had last night."
The skillet Walker held clattered down on the stove. He shook his head in disbelief at the expression on her face. A two year old couldn't look as innocent, even if they'd had their hand in the cookie jar. Walker smiled; she sure was something else. Beautiful, sexy, quick witted, and intelligent, and now that they'd started rubbing each other up the right way, they laughed as easily as they made love.
"Workout?" He tried hard to look hurt, but a smile fought to play at the corners of his mouth.
"I worked up a sweat, and at times I felt as if I’d run a marathon. Does that count?"
"Yeah, that counts." Abruptly his mood switched from one of simple amusement to that of seriousness. He didn't want to play the game anymore. He needed to know what Skye really thought. He knew he could make her respond, but hell, he'd made other women respond too. Skye was different. She had fire, passion and something else.
Suddenly, he wanted more with her than just great sex. He wanted to wake up to find her by his side not just on this morning, but for as many as she was willing to give. The question was did this auburn-haired angel want the same? Had he crept under her skin, as she had his? Only she knew the answers, and he'd be damned if he felt he had the right to ask.
"Is that how you really think of last night?" He kept his voice calm as his eyes anxiously searched her face.
Her elbows resting on the table, Skye watched Walker. Just how much should she tell the virile man standing at her stove and wearing an apron? Was he was ready to hear the message her heart was sending her brain, when she wasn't one hundred percent certain she wanted to hear it either? A slow smile trembled over her lips. One thing she was sure of, if his expression was any indicator, Walker wasn't finding her teasing much fun.
She decided that if discretion was indeed the better part of valor, then she ought to tell him the truth, or as much of the truth as she knew, otherwise he might just be tempted to tip his omelet over head.
A slight blush covered her cheeks. Walker watched her closely. Sapphire blue met ice, but ice that held a savage inner fire. Skye could hardly lift her voice above a whisper. She swallowed, as she found the words and the strength to reply.
"Last night was wonderful and so special, I'll never forget it. And if I never have another memory to make, I will always hold it in my heart." She couldn't look at him anymore, so turned away, and brushed away the tears that threatened to spill over her cheeks.
Walker was unprepared for her blatant honesty. One look at her face and her body language told him she meant every word she said. All thoughts of eating pushed aside, he crossed to where she sat, and knelt next to her chair. He cupped her chin in his hand, his eyes full of concern.
"Sweetheart, you've more memories to make, I'm sure of it. There's no need to feel sad."
Skye tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. "I'm not in the least bit sad or angry nor do I have any regrets. As I said, last night was wonderful. I never thought I could experience such passion as we shared. You made me feel so wanted, so desirable, and for that I can never thank you enough."
The underlying sensuality of her words captivated him. He gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear before taking her hands in his.
"Sweetheart, there's no need to thank me. I got more pleasure out of last night than I've ever had. I just want to be sure you did too."
The heavy lashes that shadowed Skye's cheeks fluttered up in surprise. Walker's tender expression bit to her very core. She could no longer deny that he'd captured her heart and unable to find words to express her feelings for this unpredictable man, she brushed her lips against his in a kiss as soft as a downy feather.
"I did."
"Then that's okay." He studied her thoughtfully for a moment. He was full of questions, but intuitively knew now wasn't the time to pry. Obviously some bastard had hurt her and hurt her bad—he sincerely hoped he wasn't about to become the next.
Chapter Twelve
Walker’s suggestion that he stay with her for the rest of her holiday, took Skye completely by surprise, and while she would have happily kept to her part of their bargain and spent a whole day in his company, this was so much better. As a consequence, she smiled more often in the following three days than she had in months. There was laughter in her voice, and her eyes shone with happiness. Finally, it seemed the sadness of the previous twelve months was behind her and her life was back on track. Not even the unpredictable weather dampened her spirits.
They became inseparable, spending every moment together. As if by some tacit agreement, neither spoke of their lives at home or their careers, in case they should remind themselves that the clock was slowly ticking the hours away to the time when they knew Skye would have to leave.
Skye found Walker a knowledgeable and amusing guide. When they visited the historical site at the north of the island, he told her how the English and the Americans had gone to war over a pig. At first she’d thought he was making it up, and it was only when she read the free handout that she believed him.
When the weather cleared in the afternoons, as it often did in the Pacific Northwest, they went sailing. They would drop anchor in one of the coves around the island, have lunch and a bottle of wine or sail round to Lime Kiln Lighthouse, where Walker told her about the pods of Orcas, pointing out individuals by name.
Their evenings were spent talking, listening to music, and enjoying each other's company. If the weather was fine they strolled along the beach hand in hand, stopping every now and again to kiss under the stars, or sat on the deck and watched the clouds cast shadows on the moon. And later, after turning out the lights, they lay wrapped in each other's arms in a hot tangle of sheets, the raw passion of their lovemaking lifting them both higher and higher until their bodies were spent.
But then Walker's cell phone rang and shattered the dream.
Skye had finished loading the dishwasher when the first call came through. Walker went into the bedroom, half closing the door behind him to take it. Following that initial call he made several of his own and although she tried hard not to listen, Skye heard him barking out instructions to a nameless individual on the other end of the line. Her face clouded with uneasiness. She turned and stared out of the window.
Walker wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight. Her hair smelt faintly of apples, reminding him of the shower they had shared that morning. Damn it! He didn't want to leave her, not now when they were getting on so well, but he knew he had to. The call had seen to that. If he was lucky, he could clear up the mess that was waiting for him in Seattle and return in a few days, but how could he explain his sudden departure without feeling like the biggest jerk on the planet?
"Skye, honey," he said softly.
Skye kept her back to him. She didn't want him to see the tears that threatened to fall. She bit down hard on her lip, regained control of her emotions, before facing him. She rested her head on his shoulder. The sadness she felt was all too evident in her pale blue eyes as she lifted her face to his.
Walker suddenly looked tired. She could see the anxiety in his face, and wondered why she had never noticed the dark shadows beneath his eyes before. The phone call obviously worried him. She touched a fingertip to his lips as if to silence him before he said the words she knew in her heart he was about to say.
"I know you have to go and its okay, really it is." But it wasn't in the least. She wanted to scream out loud and tell him a dozen reasons why he should stay, but she couldn't. She tried to make it easier for him by smiling, but failed miserably. When Walker started to speak, she silen
ced him once more.
"Honestly, its fine. I'm fine. I understand, really, I do." But the old sensation of distrust had returned and there was a feeling of sourness in her stomach. Suddenly her life was taking on an all too familiar pattern.
Walker took one look at her face and felt he'd been kicked in the guts for the second time that night. Talk about bad timing. If the call had been about an environmental disaster in some far-flung corner of the world he would have sent someone else, but he couldn't. He had no choice. This was too personal. The silence between them lengthened. He struggled to find the words to explain why suddenly he had to leave.
Three Weeks Last Spring Page 11
