Run, Run, Runaway Bride

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Run, Run, Runaway Bride Page 9

by Diamond, Jacqueline


  "It's not designed for swimming," Kieran noted. "One dive and the thing would fall off."

  "I wasn't planning to dive," Samantha said.

  He took another stab. "The guys might get the wrong idea."

  “The wrong idea about us being married?” she returned. “Besides, they’re having a poker tournament."

  “Not all of them play poker,” he said. “But if others join us, that’s fine.”

  “Huh.” Wrinkling her nose at the idea, Samantha promptly changed the subject. "Are these sturdy enough?" She angled one leg to show him the cork-soled wedge sandals she wore.

  "They're fine." Kieran tried not to focus on the slim leg and delicate ankle. "Let's head out."

  On the porch, she peered into the darkness. "You aren't worried about that mountain lion, are you?"

  "There's a watering hole in the preserve," Kieran said. "Animals usually stick around there."

  Just in case, he took an oversize flashlight and a megaphone that he sometimes used on the construction site. Loud noises and lights were reputed to discourage a big cat.

  They didn't see or hear anyone or anything on their short trip to the springs. En route, he battled the urge to stroke the curve of her waist and the flare of her hips. That would be pushing his luck. He might consider himself a man of iron will, but a hot enough fire could melt iron.

  The springs lay off the trail, amid a clump of manzanita shrubs. Once they passed through the bushes, the rest of the world vanished. The burble of water blocked out all noise, and the warm sulphur smell obliterated the scents of aromatic plants.

  Kieran set the towels and his gear on a large flat rock. "This is great." Samantha inhaled the steam. "The world's biggest Jacuzzi."

  “Big enough.” The springs weren't all that large, more of a pond where the underground stream broke to the surface. Kieran knew from experience that it was no more than four feet deep. But this was no ordinary spa. "Be careful." He pointed to the heart of the springs. "Right there it gets very hot."

  "I'll watch out." While Samantha shrugged off her cover-up, Kieran glanced around the area. Once he'd arrived at the hot springs at the same time as a family of skunks.

  No wildlife tonight. Just the springs and the moon washing the scene with silver. Samantha's minuscule bikini glittered, and droplets of water danced across her skin as she lowered herself into the pool.

  Kieran paused at the water’s edge, reminded of his fantasy from last night. And of the fact that a man with any brains didn’t tempt himself beyond human endurance.

  Chapter Eight

  Samantha's breath caught in her throat at the sight of Kieran's sculptured body poised on the rocks, moonlight shimmering around him. Each muscle of his chest and shoulders stood out in clear definition.

  She'd seen the tensing of his jaw muscles and heard his quickened breathing when she appeared in her swimsuit, yet he'd kept his distance. He obviously had meant what he said.

  Then why, she wondered as she sank into the water, did she feel an urge to tempt him? What would she do if he took her up on it?

  She'd never met a man so maddening. The guy had an ego the size of Mount Palomar. Or are you just telling yourself that?

  Ironically, she'd been much better able to keep her desires in check when Kieran was trying to corral her into bed. Now that he'd changed his mind, Samantha was discovering that she wanted him in a fundamentally feminine way.

  Or maybe she just loved a challenge.

  In Acapulco, Hank had done all he could to seduce her, and Samantha had felt only mildly stimulated. And that had been due more to their romantic surroundings than to her suitor. One evening, they'd tried to make love, but Hank had been overcome by too many drinks. The result had been embarrassment on his part and, on Samantha's, a wave of sympathy that she'd mistaken for affection.

  There was no need to wonder what she was feeling about Kieran. She could hardly keep her eyes off the hard cords of muscle banding his chest and upper arms.

  He was her husband, after all. Not in a permanent sense, but legally. Morally. Well, that might be a gray area.

  The heat of the water dissipated Samantha’s thoughts. It soothed away the aches from a day spent playing softball, followed by hours on a hard folding chair watching Ben-Hur. Visions of the chariot race flashed through her mind, all that sweat and Charlton Heston's amazing physical condition. She'd never met a man who could match him, until Kieran.

  If only he knew that he had nothing to fear. Samantha wouldn’t try to claim half of Hidden Hot Springs. First of all, she wasn't greedy. And second, she didn't intend to stay any longer than necessary in this remote town, no matter how gorgeous its master. Not when the Caribbean sang to her with calypso rhythms.

  Kieran meant to leave her alone, and that was for the best. They finally agreed on something.

  Through languorous eyelids, she gazed into a sky so starry it might have been painted by Vincent van Gogh. Alive with constellations, it reminded her that ancient peoples had revered the celestial bodies. She could see why: far from urban light pollution, their brilliance and depth came alive.

  She closed her eyes and let the water support her. The sulfuric smell reminded her of the spring's source deep within the earth. Slowly, as her tension dissolved, Samantha became more aware of her body. Every inch of skin reveled in the heat and the contrasting sharpness of night air. Steam wafting upward enclosed and shielded her.

  A ripple announced that Kieran had joined her in the water. Secure in the knowledge that he wouldn't approach, she let herself float freely. Although she might be drifting in his direction, he would soon move away.

  This all seemed like a dream, anyway, the heat and the steam and the awareness of Kieran's body so tantalizingly near. Samantha chose not to spoil it by opening her eyes.

  Yet as the pool's eddies wafted her along, she imagined she could sense the thrum of Kieran’s pulse. Then her foot brushed the hardness of his leg.

  Energy jolted her, as if their nervous systems had made contact. Losing track of which way was up or down, she started to sink.

  Strong arms caught her. One supported her back, while a large hand gripped her thigh, holding her steady.

  The vertigo passed, but the current kept swinging her toward Kieran, pressing her bare side against the expanse of his stomach. Her lids still closed, she felt his fingers tighten around her thigh.

  She must not gaze into his eyes. If she did, she would see a longing that mirrored her own. She had to leave Kieran free to withdraw, to pretend that nothing had happened between them. That was what both of them wanted, wasn't it?

  Instead, he lifted Samantha until his mouth closed over hers. With a moan, she wound her arms around his neck and answered Kieran's passion in kind.

  As his tongue invited her into a tantalizing game, he lowered them both onto a rocky shelf. In the heated water, Samantha's body curved against Kieran's, half on his lap and half afloat.

  The spring played tricks, pressing her closer and then drawing her away. He couldn't resist the lure of the eddies; his hands brushed the bare skin of her waist and explored the lower edge of her bikini bra.

  The more she relaxed, the more the current conspired to arch her back and open her to Kieran. And he was right there, not a captive of desire but its lord.

  Through her bikini bottom, his hardness pressed against her tender core. He stroked the silky bra upwards, baring the taut tips of her breasts. He bent over her with barely restrained ferocity, his mouth claiming her nipples.

  She gasped at the sensations rocketing through her body. The water magnified them, until she yearned for him to ravage her with his masculine strength, and then to do it again.

  Suddenly, there was only emptiness where Kieran had been. No hands gripped her as an eddy carried her off.

  "Hey!" She blinked away the steam.

  Kieran had retreated a few feet. "I meant what I said, Samantha."

  "Oh, for heaven's sake!" She found her footing on the rocks and
stood. Cool night air snapped over her chest as she pulled her bra into place. "What do you think I am, a black widow spider that’ll have you for dinner?"

  "I don't know much about you." Dark-blond hair plastered to his head revealed the rounded shape of his skull. "Like how you really got into trouble with this Hank. I have only your word that you were an innocent bystander. I don't even know if Hank exists."

  Torn between laughter and outrage, Samantha glared at him. "Who knows, maybe I'm working for Beatrice!"

  "Let's just say I was foolish to put my entire project in unnecessary jeopardy. What's done is done, but I'm not going to make things worse."

  Kieran tossed her a towel and draped one over his shoulders. Silver moon rays turned his physique to pewter, highlighting the manly torso. As for those trunks, they might have been painted on his slim hips.

  Samantha noticed something important. Despite his words, he hadn't lost his desire for her.

  She toweled her hair with deliberate slowness, aware that the motion drew his attention to her body. If she had to suffer, so did he.

  Something flew through the air. Startled, Samantha dropped her towel and grabbed it.

  She found herself clutching a flashlight. "Good reflexes," said Kieran, starting up the path. "Coming?"

  She didn't believe he would leave her here, at the mercy of wild animals, ankle-twisting loose stones and wrong turns, but she was in no mood to find out. She snatched her towel and snapped him with it, or tried to, but Kieran dodged away. Irritated, Samantha chased him all the way to the cabin.

  He flung open the door and went in, not pausing to hold it for her. Samantha had to admit that, had he stopped in the doorway, she couldn't have resisted undulating against him just to remind him of what he was missing,

  And he knew it.

  The man was developing a maddening ability to read her mind. It was a dangerous trait that she hoped to discourage.

  Lamplight penetrated the room, emphasizing that the cabin could use a good cleaning and a decorator. Samantha wondered how long it would take to turn this place into a real home.

  Too long. It would only be her residence for a few weeks, but then, all the homes in Samantha's life had been temporary. Still, other than housework, there wasn't much to do around here.

  Shutting herself inside the bedroom, she admitted silently that it wasn't so much the house she yearned to domesticate as the man. What would it take to turn him into a real husband, even if temporary?

  She had a few ideas to try, starting tomorrow.

  *

  Kieran hadn’t meant to slip so far. Another minute and he couldn't have stopped for all the good judgment in the world.

  He could still feel the yielding softness of her breasts beneath his lips, and the tautness of her nipples. How natural it had been, slipping between her legs in the flowing current; how easily her body fitted against his. Just like in his dream.

  How the hell was he going to get any sleep tonight?

  He stripped off his trunks in the bathroom and, hating the cliché, took a cold shower. It didn't help.

  Neither did a beer in the drab kitchen, nor an attempt to read a book on hotel management. Despite the dull phrasing, he kept picturing hotel rooms where people romped and rejoiced in each other.

  A room at the Hidden Springs Resort would be lush and secluded amid greenery, equipped with a whirlpool bath and an oversize bed. As he stretched on the couch and draped his feet over the end, Kieran visualized Samantha, her cinnamon hair spread across a pillow and her nightgown clinging to the inner curve of her hips.

  He could feel himself moving toward her, and then, by the grace of his fantasy, levitating over her. His body covered hers, demanding satisfaction, and she seized his hips and pulled him into sweet ecstasy.

  He groaned, rolled over and crashed to the floor. "Damn!" Kieran snarled between clenched teeth. He stalked back into the bathroom and took another cold shower.

  It still didn't help,

  *

  On Monday morning, Samantha woke late. The slant of sunlight through the shades told her it was well past her usual time to rise. But it wasn't as if she had to go to work.

  She lay dozing, reviewing the unexpected events of these past few days: Hank's sudden reappearance, the dance in the rec hall, the tango with Kieran. And then last night. An unwilling groan escaped as she remembered the hardness of his body against hers, the insistence of his mouth, the moment when she'd thought all barriers would fall between them.

  Samantha sat up. Once Hank's trial was over, she could return to her usual devil-may-care life. If she didn't snare the job on the cruise ship, she'd find something else, she mused, padding toward the kitchen. She'd saved enough money during her months in San Diego to travel to Japan, or maybe India—she'd never visited the subcontinent.

  But no, India would be too hot this time of year. As for the Japanese, well, they had a beautiful country, but did the cities have to be so crowded?

  Samantha couldn't think of anywhere she yearned to go, which seemed odd. Well, she ought to land the cruise job. How many applicants spoke several languages, and had worked in travel-related businesses across the globe?

  Lost in thought, she stood for several minutes in the middle of the kitchen before she gathered her wits enough to take stock. Long and narrow, the room resembled a hallway, which it was, since it led directly to a tiny utility room and the back door. The linoleum was scuffed down to the rubber backing, while only a grimy ruffle half-covered the small window.

  Samantha eyed the aged stove and the tiny oven. If she ever decided to bake a cake, she'd have to make it one layer at a time. But cake wasn't the item on her mind this morning.

  Kieran French had to keep coffee around somewhere. The high shelves revealed a sparse supply of plastic plates, a jar of peanut butter and a few cans of beans. Bending to examine the lower cabinets, she observed a couple of aluminum pots and a bottle of all-purpose cleanser.

  Samantha prowled through the refrigerator, finding a six-pack of beer, four diet sodas, a stale half-loaf of bread and an almost empty jar of grape jelly. This guy qualified for the Bad Housekeeping Seal of Disgust.

  The wall clock pointed to half past ten. The dining hall would have cleared away breakfast long ago, and she had no intention of waiting another hour and a half for her morning potion.

  If Kieran didn't stock coffee here, there must be some at his office. Samantha would just have to intrude.

  *

  Kieran spent most of the morning fixing a broken forklift. One thing about running your own operation was that everyone pitched in, according to his skills.

  He was scrubbing the grease off his hands in the trailer bathroom when the front door banged open. Peering out, Kieran was startled to see Samantha studying the scale model of the hotel that sat on a table.

  Since she didn't seem aware of his presence, he took a moment to observe her. This morning, she'd worn a short halter top, shorts and sandals. The pink halter emphasized her breasts while her low-slung shorts revealed a slender waistline that cried out for a man's hands to encircle it.

  Then Samantha swung around to face him, and Kieran saw a gleam of challenge in her eyes. She’d selected the outfit deliberately, and probably realized he was staring at her.

  "Here for a tour of the office?" he asked with all the coolness he could muster.

  "I'm trying to score some coffee." Samantha spied the pot in one corner. "Great!" As she poured herself a cup, she added, "Where's your desk?"

  Kieran nodded toward a doorway. "Private office."

  "How private?" she asked.

  "You have something in mind?"

  Amber eyes pierced him "You know I like exotic locales."

  He was tempted to show her exactly how exotic his office could be. But even if his good judgment hadn't stopped him, Kieran knew the men treated his trailer like their home away from home.

  "It's not as private as all that," he said mildly.

  Samantha leane
d against the doorframe, sipping her coffee. She looked perfectly at home, but then, she had the knack of making herself at home anywhere she went.

  Her nose wrinkled. "Who brewed this stuff? It's terrible."

  "I did," he said.

  "Ever clean the coffeepot?"

  "No. Should I?"

  "The manufacturer recommends it."

  As far as he was concerned, dumping out the paper filter was as much cleaning as an office pot needed. If she expected more, she'd have to do it herself. "There's a project you could tackle in your spare time."

  "I'll take it under consideration." She set the cup aside. "Does your general store sell vinegar? Not to mention food?"

  "Probably." Kieran couldn't believe Samantha was considering cooking. He wondered what she would do next, fix up the cabin? The lady changed her mind more often than he changed his sheets.

  The outer door swung open to admit Lew. Catching sight of Samantha, he issued a low whistle of appreciation. "The bride looks radiant."

  "Did you construct that?" She indicated the model.

  Lew nodded. “The computer layout has more detail, but I find this inspiring.”

  “Me too. It’s breathtaking,” she said. “Has Beth seen it?”

  "Not yet. She's coming up next weekend."

  Matters must be progressing between them, Kieran thought. He was glad to see his friend happy.

  “Fantastic!” Samantha smile lit up her face. "I have an idea to discuss with her."

  “What’s that?” Kieran inquired cautiously.

  "The Fourth of July is coming up, and I think Hidden Hot Springs ought to celebrate."

  Since the Fourth would mark the last weekend of Samantha's stay here, Kieran didn't find the prospect cheering. "I'll order a keg of beer and some sparklers."

  She glared at him. "I mean something special—food and games, a country-style festival to bring people together. Also, you were discussing another mixer. Why not schedule it that same weekend?"

  "She may have something there,” Lew said. “Think about it, Kier. Our slowest season will be summer, with all the heat. Suppose we build up the Fourth of July as a special holiday? We're not in any city's jurisdiction, so we're free to stage fireworks if we take the proper precautions. We wouldn't want to start a brushfire."

 

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