Mountain Mystic

by Debra Dixon

  “Right,” Victoria said, and tried to lighten the mood. “And none of those three are connected with the world’s second oldest profession.”

  Joshua joined her by the sink, putting the salt and pepper shakers on top of the bread box at the far end of the counter. “Second oldest profession?”

  “Sure, Midwifery is sort of a spinoff from the world’s oldest profession. We came along about nine months later.”

  He chuckled. “I never thought of it that way.”

  She turned and reached for the spaghetti pot, intending to pour out the water she’d left in it to soak, but as soon as her palms touched the sides of the kettle-type pan, she knew she’d made a mistake. Hot metal seared her skin, and she instantly snatched her hands away with a loud, anguished curse. Closing her eyes, she willed the fire in her palms to go away, but even before examining them, she knew that was impossible. Thank God she hadn’t actually picked it up.

  When she opened her eyes, Joshua was right beside her, pulling her to the double sink. He twisted the cold water tap and grabbed both arms by the wrists, shoving them beneath the soothing stream of cold water.

  “Keep them there,” he ordered.

  “Don’t worry,” Victoria assured him in a strained voice. “Check the stove. I must not have turned off that electric eye all the way.”

  He reached over and jiggled one of the four stove knobs. “You’re right. You didn’t. It’s barely on, but enough to heat that pot of water.”

  Victoria bit her lip as she finally pulled her hands out of the water and looked at them for a second before the throbbing crescendoed again. “Looks like more of a light scorch than a blistering burn.” She immediately returned them to the comfort of the cold and asked, “Why do burns have to hurt so much?”

  “Maybe Mother Nature doesn’t like having to make the same point twice,” Joshua told her as he leaned over her shoulder. “Let me see.”

  “I already told you. It’s a scorch, and it’s going to hurt for a bit. Check the living room windowsill. I’ve got an aloe vera plant.”

  “Let me see your hands,” Joshua repeated, and this time the command in his voice was unmistakable.

  “The aloe vera—” Victoria began, and then stopped. Slowly she brought one hand out of the water stream and turned to Joshua. He cradled the back of her hand in his palm, his thumb rubbing softly against the outside line of hers.

  “You’re going to have to trust me.” It was a statement, not a plea. “You wanted to know about this. Now, shut up about the plant and let me take the fire away. Think of something good.”

  Mesmerized by the quiet confidence in his manner, Victoria managed only a slight nod. The throbbing in her hand had begun again. If he didn’t make the hurt go away soon, she’d have to put it back under the water. Victoria closed her eyes and tried to think of something besides the hurting in her hand. Something that felt good.

  Joshua took his free hand and gently covered Victoria’s palm, cocooning her hand inside his. He concentrated on feeling the pain and let his fingers softly massage the tender pulse point of her wrist. For him, when he made the connection, finding her pain was like suddenly falling through the floor. He had to scramble to catch himself.

  She was right, it was just a scorch, but an acute one. Slowly he accepted the pain and began to wash it away with gentle strokes that hovered above her skin but never touched her. With each sweep he slid deeper into sync with Victoria.

  When he reached for her second hand he noticed that she didn’t even open her eyes. He repeated the process of touching and accepting her hurt, only this time when he made the last stroke, the pain was replaced with pleasure—a bolt of sensual pleasure so strong that Joshua actually felt himself harden in response.

  Victoria’s feelings were all of him, a jumble of impressions from the night they’d almost made love and of new scenes that held him in thrall. Gone was the shyness, and in its place was confidence and desire. He could sense darkness illuminated by the glow of candlelight. He could feel the satisfaction she got from knowing he was excited by the sight of her as she stripped slowly in front of him.

  Forcing himself to pull away, Joshua knew he’d seen erotic fantasies that he was never meant to see. This was what Victoria was afraid of revealing—how much she wanted him and how deeply she felt the physical attraction between them. There was no mistaking the intensity of her emotions. He could think of only one reason that would have prevented her from acting on her impulses. She had been afraid of pursuing a relationship because she wasn’t sure she could handle disappointment again.

  Since he hadn’t made any secret of his desire for her, Joshua realized that she wasn’t afraid he’d reject her physically. She was afraid he’d reject her emotionally. Considering her first marriage, Joshua knew how scary that rejection would be to Victoria. She’d learned to keep herself safe.

  How ironic that the one woman from whom he wanted emotion had learned how to turn it off and on. Didn’t she know he wouldn’t turn away from her? Didn’t she trust him yet?

  Without releasing her hand, Joshua turned off the tap. Slowly, she opened her eyes and cautiously flexed her hands, testing for any lingering pain.

  Stunned, Victoria stared at her palms. Skin which had been a bright pink was now flesh-colored again. Hesitantly, she curled her fingers and waited for the telltale throbbing of tissue still protesting the burn. Opening her fingers again, she rubbed one palm with the fingertips of her other hand and then reversed the process. The skin seemed more sensitive than usual, but that was the only sign of injury.

  “This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” she whispered. “I know I grabbed that pot. My hands were burned. I saw them. I felt them. Do you know what you just did?”

  She looked up. Joshua stood silent, leaning against the edge of the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was guarded, not at all like someone who’d just performed a minor miracle. Granny Logan had told her that Joshua fought himself and his gift. Always had.

  “Why does offering a kindness to a friend make you so uncomfortable?” she wondered aloud. “Why do your abilities make you so uncomfortable? Your grandmother calls it a gift. And believe me—it is!”

  He laughed hollowly. “Well, it’s not a gift I wanted. I didn’t ask for it. And when I used it, it screwed up my life.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve got plenty of money, but I lost my career.” Joshua pushed away from the counter. “I can’t finish a site anymore. It gets too personal. I lose my focus and my concentration. Emotions crowd in on top of me.”

  “I thought you were getting better.”

  “Oh, I am,” he assured her. “But I’m here, on the mountain. I’m not trying to touch history. I’m not out there jostling through crowds buying Christmas presents or trying to dig up bits and pieces of someone else’s life.”

  “Then what are you trying to do?” she asked softly.

  Joshua leveled a steady gaze at her. “I’m spending a lot of time trying to convince you that we need to be together.”

  “What happens after you convince me?” Victoria asked quietly, uncertain what she wanted his answer to be.

  “I won’t have to be alone anymore.”

  His response stopped her cold. From the beginning she’d thought of him as the strong, silent type who was at peace with his solitary existence. She’d never once thought of him as lonely. Everything he did, he did by choice. Until now she hadn’t realized it was a bitter choice. “Joshua, I didn’t … I thought …”

  He caught her arm right above her elbow and drew her closer, running his hands up over her shoulders and down her back. When he pulled her into his embrace, he promised, “You can trust me, Vicky. Let me love you.”

  For the moment, his words were enough for Victoria. She wanted to trust him. She wanted to love him back. She wanted to heal his hurt the same way he’d healed hers—by touch. Rising on her toes, Victoria circled her arms around his neck and p
ulled his head down to meet her lips. “I’ve made a decision. The dishes can wait, but I can’t.”

  There was no hesitation or exploration in his kiss. It was pure possession. His hands crept lower, cupped her rump, and raised her up until she was half sitting on the table with him between her legs, his arousal pressed intimately against her. When she hooked a leg around his thigh, he stilled for a moment, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead on hers.

  With a suddenness that took her breath away, he snatched her off the table and carried her to the bed. As Victoria fell back into the softness, he stepped away and caught her ankle. Slowly he pulled off her shoes one at a time and dropped them to the ground.

  “I’ve wanted to take you in this bed since the first day I saw you lying on it. When you stretched and arched your back, I truly thought I’d died and gone to heaven.”

  Victoria colored at the memory.

  “And then you blushed, and I wanted to know how much of you turned pink.” Joshua stripped his sweater off and tossed it over the footboard. “Take the shirt off, love.”

  Shyly at first, Victoria eased up off the mattress, caught the bottom of the T-shirt with her hands, and pulled it over her head in one smooth movement. She laid her arms across her midriff, unconsciously pushing her breasts up and creating an enticing valley of shadow.

  “You take my breath away, Victoria. Do you know that? Do you understand what you do to me?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Because you do the same thing to me.”

  She reached out then and flattened her palms against his rib cage. He sucked in a breath but let her explore. Her fingers splayed out as her hands moved upward, her fingertips brushing his nipples. She could feel him tense beneath her touch, and she smiled. Neither one of them was in control, and that was how it should be.

  This was what he meant when he’d asked her what she knew about lust, sex. And he’d been right; she hadn’t known nearly enough. All of this was new to her. Before, she’d always been afraid to ask for what she wanted, but tonight she didn’t even bother to ask. She just took. She wanted Joshua to know that she was his. She wanted him to know that she wanted them to be together as much as he did.

  The warmth beneath her hands contrasted sharply with the slight chill in the cabin. She felt her nipples pebble from the combination of excitement and cool air. But she didn’t want to cover up. Judging from the restrained hunger blazing in Joshua’s eyes, he didn’t want her covered either.

  A half-smile hovered on her lips as she retraced the path her fingers had taken and dipped lower to unfasten his pants. She was fascinated by the thin, dark line of hair that disappeared beneath his waistband, only to reappear as she opened his trousers and began to push his clothes down his hips to expose his flat, tensed abdomen.

  Joshua had given up breathing the moment her fingers toyed with the edge of his pants. The muscles in his stomach tightened and his arousal jerked when the sliver of anticipation coursed through him. By the time she freed his shaft, his head was tilted back and he’d closed his eyes. In order to maintain any control at all, he couldn’t watch. One glimpse of her hands on him, stroking him …

  “Enough,” Joshua said in a rasp and caught her hands, which was a mistake.

  In catching her hands, he closed them over his arousal and drew them upward, which only intensified the shudder of pleasure that threatened to grip him. Breathing deeply now, Joshua kicked off his shoes, fished a foil packet out of his pocket, and finished disrobing. When he was through, he turned his attention to Victoria and leaned over her, one knee beside her thigh on the bed.

  “Your turn,” he said, and grasped the waistband of her stretch pants, peeling them off her, which left only her panties between them and consummation. When Victoria’s hand strayed toward the waistband, he pushed it away. “Not yet. I don’t want any temptation until I’ve protected you.”

  Victoria’s hips rocked slightly in frustration. This dance between them had gone on long enough. She wanted him inside her. She wanted to feel his strength and power as he took her.

  Slowly, he shifted her on the bed and drew her arms up over her head, holding them easily with one big hand. With the other he teased her, rubbed her through the silky fabric covering her mound. Victoria’s legs parted in a silent signal for him to explore farther, to satisfy the pulsing that had begun in the heart of her desire.

  Simultaneously, he sucked a nipple into his mouth and slid his hand beneath her panties, spreading her petals with his fingers. Victoria gasped, incapable of words. She tried to urge him on with the motions of her body, but she seemed incapable of doing more than reveling in the sensations that Joshua created so easily with his tongue and fingers. And then he entered her with his finger, teasing her with his thumb. Victoria’s eyelids fluttered closed as she gave herself up, knowing there was nothing she could do to stop Joshua from taking his time.

  When Joshua felt her surrender to the moment, he removed her panties and sheathed himself. As he knelt over her, she opened her eyes, and he knew, at this moment, she was vulnerable. That her emotions were his. Everything she had was his. He reached between them to guide his arousal, holding back from taking her in one long, deep stroke.

  She was wet, ready for him, but he wanted her to regain that peak, the edge she’d almost tumbled over. He let her hold him in her passage, and he circled the sensitive nub of flesh with the pad of his thumb. With each stroke she drew a little closer to that precipice, and he drove a little deeper.

  Soon, each touch was eliciting a ragged gasp of air from Victoria. Joshua could feel his own climax building, enhanced and spurred on by the pleasure beginning to ripple through her. When she breathed his name, she got out only “Josh,” but she said it again and again as pleasure burst inside her and spiraled through her. Joshua shifted his hands to her hips, pulling her to him one last time and felt not only his climax but hers as well. For the first time, Victoria’s emotions spilled over into him, uncensored.

  Neither of them had the inclination or the energy to talk for a while. Joshua got out of bed long enough to stoke the wood stove and turn out the lights, and then joined her on the old mattress that remembered the shape of his body and accepted him as though he’d never moved away.

  Joshua woke to darkness and embraced the night. He’d always loved the night. It was silent. As he lay there, his eyes grew accustomed to the blackness, and he turned his head to watch Victoria. She was sleeping between him and the wall, on her back, and with both arms thrown over her head. Dark hair spilled across her pillow and onto his. He didn’t mind.

  While she slept he could feel that calmness, that balance that she possessed. And yet when he made love to her, he could feel the passion. His brows drew together. He felt closer to her, but the barriers were still up. Maybe they always would be.

  She stirred and rubbed the tip of her nose. Sleepily, she yawned and asked, “Why are you staring at me?”

  “I wasn’t staring,” he said, and adjusted to fit her body next to his side. “I was enjoying the view.”

  “The view’s better in the daylight with fresh makeup,” she told him prosaically.

  “I like it just fine.”

  “Go to sleep, Joshua.”

  It was good advice, and he took it.

  Victoria knew her life had changed before she opened her eyes. The first clue was the steady rise and fall of her head which was pillowed on Joshua’s warm, hard chest. The second clue were his legs all tangled up with hers. But the last and best clue was the feeling of being whole for the first time in a long time.

  Extricating herself was going to prove too difficult to do without waking up Joshua, so she didn’t bother to try. She lifted her head and kissed him on the lips.

  “Good morning,” she greeted him cheerfully.

  Joshua cracked an eyelid, took a deep breath, and closed his eye again.

  She smiled. “Someone’s been sleeping in my bed.”

  He opened an eye again.

  �
�And he’s still here,” she whispered.

  “You sound happy.”

  “I am.”

  “No morning-after second-guessing?”

  “No. And no complaints either.”

  Joshua managed to look offended. “I should sure as hell hope not!” Then he grinned devilishly. “Of course, the second time was technically more successful. I don’t recall ever having tried that position.”

  When Victoria blushed, he decided to make a habit of lazy Sundays in bed.

  Lara Logan noticed the change in Victoria as soon as she stepped through the doorway and slid out of her coat. The sense of babies was still there, but fainter. As though something else in her life had risen to the top of her awareness in the past couple of weeks. Something like a partnership. All that internal agonizing had finally resolved itself. And Lara had a pretty good idea how the conflict got resolved. Just the same, she gave the younger woman a comforting pat on the shoulder as she ushered her inside for their weekly cup of tea.

  The touch told her everything she wanted to know. Barring unforeseen circumstances, it was only a matter of time before she held her great-grandchild. Unfortunately, she was getting a little short on time, and even with the sight, she couldn’t predict the unpredictable. Still, all in all, she had hope again.

  “Joshua tells me that you aren’t going home for Thanksgiving,” said Lara.

  “Not this year.”

  “You can eat here, you know. It’s not fancy, but it’s a turkey.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “So would Joshua,” Lara told her, and gave a satisfied nod of her head before she reached for the teapot.

  “Is the coast clear?” Joshua asked as he stuck his head inside Victoria’s office.

  Looking up from her journal, Victoria smiled. She hadn’t actually admitted it to him yet, but she was in love. “Yep. You’re safe. My last patient canceled, so I caught up my paperwork.”

  “Good.” Solemnly, Joshua walked over to the table in the corner and handed her a shiny brass key.