by Anne Mather
‘No. Yes.’ Rachel made a helpless gesture. ‘It’s not that. You look a little pale, yes, and I realise you must have felt pretty bad to leave your job. But it wasn’t until I spoke to George that I realised I was partly to blame.’
Jack stared at her. ‘You’ve been talking to George? George Thomas?’
‘Who else? I don’t know any other Georges,’ said Rachel soothingly. ‘Now, don’t look like that. He’s concerned about you, too. And when he said you were having—personal problems, well—I knew he had to mean me.’
Jack blinked. ‘Is that all he said?’
‘Pretty much.’ Rachel moved a little nearer. ‘Oh, God, Jack, I have missed you.’
‘Have you?’
It was what he’d most wanted to hear. That she’d actually made this journey because she cared about him. Okay, maybe she felt a little sorry for him, too, but it wasn’t pity he could see in her luminous blue eyes.
And at any other time…
‘Do you want me to prove it?’
Rachel had no idea what he was thinking. She was tilting her head, allowing her fingers to play with the hairs on his wrist. In a short black skirt that flared about her thighs, and a cream lace cardigan whose buttons ended some inches above her bare midriff, she was more beautiful than ever. And so sexy that Jack felt the familiar tug of longing in his gut.
As if she’d sensed what he was thinking, she glanced about her. ‘Where are Maggie and Jude?’ she asked. ‘I suppose I ought to let them know I’m here.’ Her knee nudged his. ‘Unless we’ve got the place to ourselves?’
Jack expelled an uneven breath. Her words reminded him of where they were, and he prayed the sound of her voice hadn’t carried into the cottage. ‘They’re not here,’ he lied, knowing that whatever happened afterwards he needed this time alone with her. And, when she would have drawn him towards the door, he slipped his hand about her waist. ‘Let’s not go into the house. It’s too nice a day to be inside.’
‘If you say so.’ The tip of her tongue appeared, to moisten her upper lip. ‘Where shall we go?’
‘Leave that to me,’ muttered Jack, coming to a decision. Taking her hand, he practically dragged her around the side of the cottage to where the Aston Martin was parked. For the first time since his arrival he was glad he’d chosen to make the sea crossing so that he could bring his car with him, and, hauling open the passenger side door, he ushered Rachel inside.
‘Don’t you need keys?’ she ventured, when he rounded the car and coiled his length behind the wheel. Her eyes danced. ‘Or do the fairies start the engine for you?’
‘Something like that,’ he agreed, showing her the keys, already in the ignition. ‘No one locks their car in Ballyryan. Sure, and don’t the saints themselves keep an eye on them for us?’
Rachel giggled, a wonderful gurgle of laughter that Jack hadn’t heard for far too long. Unable to resist touching her, as if he still couldn’t quite believe she was real, he stretched out his arm and gripped her thigh just above her knee. His fingers curled into her soft flesh with a tensile pleasure, feeling the way she moved to make it easier for him.
He wanted to continue. The temptation to slide his hand up her leg, under the short hem of her skirt, was almost irresistible. The way she’d reacted, he was sure she’d be hot and ready for him, and he would have liked nothing better than to have the smell and the taste of her on his fingertips.
But he knew better than to take that risk. It was only a matter of time before his mother got impatient and came looking for him. Obviously she’d seen his distress, and she was prepared to give him a breathing space. But after the way Karen had behaved she would expect an explanation. Even if, like Rachel, she was unlikely to believe it.
Starting the car before the encroaching cloud of despair could descend upon him, he thrust the lever into ‘drive’ and pulled away from the cottage. Thankfully, although it had rained in the night, the ground beneath the Aston Martin was dry, and there wasn’t the sound of skidding tyres to give him away.
Once they were a safe distance from his parents’ home, Jack rolled down the windows and took a gulp of clean country air. God, in spite of everything it was so good to be feeling half human again, he thought. He wouldn’t think about Karen—wouldn’t think about what Rachel might say when she saw her. For now, they were alone in a painted landscape, with the grey-green waters of Lough Ryan on one side and the rugged slopes of a river valley on the other.
They’d turned off the major road and this track was virtually deserted. Occasionally they’d glimpse a tractor toiling across a field, or a horse-drawn cart, but tourists usually kept to more familiar routes. Once they did see an optimistic traveller pulling a caravan, and here and there an isolated cottage broke the view. But for the most part they had the scenery to themselves.
‘Mmm, this is heavenly,’ Rachel murmured, putting her hands behind her head and giving a contented sigh. ‘I’m so glad I came.’
Jack frowned. ‘Where are your bags?’ he asked, realising she hadn’t brought a suitcase. He nodded to the suede pouch she’d tossed onto the back seat. ‘Surely you can’t have everything you need in there?’
‘Perhaps I do.’ Rachel gave another gurgle of laughter. She kicked off one of her sling-backed sandals to draw up her knee and rest her heel on the soft leather of her seat. ‘A change of underwear, at least.’
‘And the rest?’ enquired Jack drily, recalling how many suitcases she’d always taken when they’d gone on holiday together. ‘Come on, baby. This is me you’re talking to, remember?’
‘I know.’ Rachel gave him a sideways look. She was loath to admit she’d spent last night at a hotel in Dublin. But, dammit, it had taken some courage to buy a ticket to Wexford this morning. She hadn’t known how Jack would react when he saw her. ‘They’re at the hotel.’
‘What hotel?’
‘The Gresham,’ she admitted reluctantly, mentioning the name of one of Dublin’s oldest and finest hostelries. ‘I—I didn’t know if you’d want me to stay.’
‘Right.’
Jack blew out a breath. It wasn’t such a leap, he knew. They hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms. He hadn’t even made an attempt to contact her since he’d got here, and even now he wasn’t absolutely sure what she really wanted of him.
Rachel turned, one knee coiled beneath her now, her arm along the back of his seat. ‘You’re not mad at me, are you?’ she whispered, her fingers grazing his ear, causing goosebumps on the nape of his neck. ‘These last three weeks have been the longest of my life.’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ he said hoarsely, his hands tightening on the wheel. Then, finding what he was looking for, he swung the car through a break in the hedge and they bumped down a narrow gully. He stopped the car halfway down, turned off the engine and held out his hand. ‘Come on,’ he urged, opening his door. ‘There’s something I want you to see.’
Rachel grabbed her sandals off the floor and scrambled over the central console. She paused a moment, turning sideways on his seat to put her sandals on again, and then stood up, wobbling a little on the high heels. ‘Where are we?’
‘If you come with me, I’ll show you,’ replied Jack, deliberately mysterious. He reached for her hand and paused a moment, looking down at her. Then he bent and took her mouth in a hot searching kiss before starting down the track again, Rachel struggling to keep her balance and her head.
‘Wait,’ she said after a moment, pulling her hand free to support herself against the rough bole of a pine tree. She kicked off her sandals and pulled a face. ‘You’ll have to carry me if it gets too rough.’
‘I guess I could,’ agreed Jack drily, already imagining how delightful that would be. Then he shook his head. ‘But don’t worry. It’s not far now.’
The final part of the slope led through a grove of trees. Rachel was unaware of what she was going to see until they emerged on a mossy plateau above a pool that reflected the clear blue of the sky overhead.
The r
ocky shelf hugged the bank of the pool, and their arrival caused a flock of ducks to flutter in panic out of the reeds. At the other side of the pool, more trees formed a natural windbreak, and half hidden by a fold in the hillside the ruins of what might once have been a church or an abbey gave the lush valley an air of haunting isolation.
‘It’s beautiful!’ Gazing about her, Rachel was enchanted by her surroundings. ‘What is this place? How did you know it was here?’
‘It’s called St. Michael’s Pool,’ replied Jack, leaving her to squat at the water’s edge. ‘In the days when the monastery was still in use, I imagine the monks used this pool for just about everything: drinking, washing, irrigating their crops. I believe they were pretty self-sufficient.’
Rachel went to join him. ‘That was a monastery?’ She stared at the uneven piles of grey stone. ‘It must be very old.’
‘Several hundred years, at least,’ agreed Jack, straightening and tossing the pebble he’d found into the pool. The ripples spread and he watched them. Then he went on, ‘The water here is as clear and as cold as ice. It’s supposed to well up from some underground spring, but my brothers and I could never find it.’
Rachel’s eyes went wide. ‘You used to swim here?’
‘When we were kids.’ Jack nodded, bending to pull out one of the reeds and twisting it between his strong fingers. ‘My grandparents lived at Ballyryan when we were young, and they used to have us all to stay in the long summer holidays.’
‘But this place is miles from Ballyryan.’
Jack grinned a little ruefully. ‘We had bikes. We used to ride for miles. Gran and Grandpa didn’t know where we were half the time.’ His grin deepened. ‘We loved it.’
‘I bet you did.’ It was very warm in the enclosed valley, but Rachel shivered. ‘Jack, this pool looks awfully deep. You could have drowned.’
‘You don’t think about things like that when you’re a kid,’ said Jack carelessly. ‘Besides, we were all fairly good swimmers. Even my sisters. It was an adventure.’ He paused. ‘D’ you want to try it?’
Rachel caught her breath and automatically took a step backwards. ‘Swim in the pool, you mean?’
He shrugged. ‘If you dare.’
Rachel shook her head. ‘It’s not a question of daring,’ she said, dry-mouthed at the prospect. ‘You’ve said yourself, kids come here. What if someone saw us?’
Jack didn’t say anything. He just tossed the reed aside and hauled his tee shirt over his head—and Rachel’s knees went weak at the sight of his broad muscled frame. It was crazy. He was her husband, for God’s sake. But the prospect of getting naked with him here was as tempting and provocative as if they were teenagers.
Her fingers went automatically to the buttons of her cardigan. ‘I—we’d be in the water, wouldn’t we?’ she probed. ‘If anyone did come around.’
‘Initially,’ said Jack, feeling the semi-arousal he’d had since seeing Rachel again hardening into a rigid erection. ‘Unless you have a better idea?’
Rachel quivered, but without further hesitation she unbuttoned her cardigan and peeled it off her sweating shoulders. The pool did look very inviting, and in her present state of sexual intoxication it would be good to cool off.
Or would it? Watching Jack unzipping his pants, pushing the jeans down his strong legs, revealing that he wasn’t wearing any underwear, did crazy things to her equilibrium. He was half turned away from her, but that didn’t prevent her from seeing his shaft rising proudly from its nest of dark hair. If she’d had any doubts that he wanted her they were instantly dispelled, and the urge to go to him and press herself against his aroused body was a disturbing temptation.
But then it wasn’t. Jack took the uncertainty out of her hands by diving headfirst into the pool, He made a huge splash, and the water he displaced flooded over Rachel’s bare feet. She hopped from foot to foot as the wave receded. Damn, that was cold. There couldn’t be much wrong with Jack if he could stand this.
He came up, swiping his wet hair out of his eyes, looking like some pagan god bathing in the pool. ‘What are you waiting for?’ he asked mockingly. ‘Are you chicken?’
Rachel took only a moment before unfastening her skirt and stepping out of it. She laid it out of reach of the water, and without removing her underwear stepped to the water’s edge. Then, closing her eyes and offering a prayer that she wouldn’t make a fool of herself, she gripped her nose and jumped into the pool.
She seemed to go down forever before the buoyancy of her body brought her back to the surface. She came up gasping, as much with the cold as with a shortage of air. God, the water was freezing, she thought. It had to be only a few degrees above freezing point. It was like swimming in the Antarctic. She wouldn’t have been surprised if there were penguins as well as ducks nesting in the reeds.
Jack swam towards her, grinning maliciously. ‘Great, isn’t it? Just what you need on a hot day.’
Rachel shuddered, only just stopping her teeth from chattering. ‘If—if you like this sort of thing,’ she muttered. ‘My legs feel numb.’
‘That’s because you’re not using them,’ replied Jack reasonably. ‘Come on. Let’s swim to the other side. You’ll feel warmer once you’re moving.’
‘You think?’
Rachel wasn’t convinced, but Jack merely shook his head and, kicking his legs, swam powerfully across the pool. He was completely at home in the water. Deciding she didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter, Rachel filled her lungs with air and followed him.
He was right. She did feel infinitely warmer by the time she’d swum a dozen yards. Even the water didn’t feel so cold any more, and she halted near him, kicking her legs and spreading her arms wide, enjoying the sensation of silky water against her skin.
‘Imagine how the monks would feel if they could see you now,’ Jack teased her. ‘Although I don’t know why you’re still wearing a bra. It’s not protecting anything.’
Rachel glanced down and realised he was right. The wet lace clung to her skin, exposing the rosy globes of her breasts, accentuating the swollen peaks that pushed so aggressively against the cream silk.
‘Here.’ Jack moved behind her. ‘Let me.’ And moments later the bra floated free beside her. ‘That’s better,’ he said huskily, moving closer to cup her breasts in his hands. ‘Much better.’
Rachel gulped in anticipation, and Jack didn’t disappoint her. Moving even closer, he allowed his hand to slide familiarly over her bottom, bringing her into intimate contact with his lower body. Then, using his free hand to keep them afloat, he wrapped one leg around her and stroked her parted lips with his tongue.
It was so sensuous, so erotic, Jack could feel his senses spinning in response. But it was a good feeling and, lifting his head, he said thickly, ‘Let’s get out of here.’
Rachel grabbed her bra and they swam back to where they’d left their clothes. Jack hauled himself out of the water and offered his hand to Rachel. She scrambled onto the plateau beside him, and before she could even take a full breath he was bearing her back against the rocks.
His kiss was hot and fierce, but also intensely sensual. Her mouth opened for him, welcomed his tongue with an urgency that had her arching up against him. He groaned, searching her mouth with a possessive hunger, and a raw shudder shook his powerful frame.
He muttered a little curse when his exploring hands encountered the strings of her bikini briefs. But in no time at all, it seemed, Rachel felt them slip away, felt the coolness of wet stone against her buttocks.
The ground was hard beneath her, but she hardly noticed when Jack moved to lie over her, his erection thrusting solidly against her stomach. His mouth trailed down her neck, nipping the soft flesh that was feathered with goosebumps, turning her warming skin a delicious shade of pink.
Jack could feel her body heating up. Cool arms tightened about his neck, nails dug painfully into his scalp, and she grabbed his face and brought his mouth back to hers. This time her tongue thrust eagerl
y into his mouth, and with a growl of satisfaction he muttered, ‘Open your legs.’
Although her skin was cool, inside she was hot and wet, a delicious fire just waiting to burn him up. Muscles that had welcomed him several weeks ago were more than ready to accommodate him again. She took him wholly and completely, and so deep it felt as if he was touching her womb.
It was amazing how little she cared about their exposure now, thought Rachel dizzily. The idea that someone might take it into their heads to come down to the pool, might be watching them at this very minute, only added to the sense of excitement and freedom she was feeling. The knowledge that Jack was a part of her again was all that mattered to her. He felt so good inside her, so big and powerful. He filled her physically and spiritually, and she was already halfway to her first orgasm when he put his hand down between them and massaged the swollen nub hidden in the moist curls of blond hair.
‘Is that good?’ he asked, albeit a little hoarsely, and Rachel couldn’t prevent the feelings inside her from rising to an uncontrollable crescendo. She bucked beneath him, clinging to him for dear life, and he bent to stifle her cry with his lips.
‘Just in case anyone’s listening,’ he said softly, beginning to move again, bringing her to a second and third orgasm before he allowed his own release.
He came violently, pumping his hips against her until he was totally spent. Then he dropped his head into the hollow of her neck and knew a sense of peace and satisfaction even greater than the last time they’d made love in her bedroom.
He closed his eyes, wanting to prolong the moment, not wanting to withdraw from her quite yet. He knew if they’d been anywhere else than here he’d have made love to her again, but it wasn’t fair to make her lie on the rocky ground any longer than this.
Besides, he knew they ought to get back to Ballyryan. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but he couldn’t put off the evil day any longer. Nevertheless, the prospect of how Rachel was going to react when she found Karen there didn’t bear thinking about, and with a groan of despair he rolled onto his back.
