The rasp of the stubble over her sensitive nipples was so unbearably erotic that she gave a stifled squeak and tried to push him away.
But, catching her wrists, he kept her captive while he began to rove over her entire body, only giving in to her laughing and breathless pleas to stop when she began to gasp, ‘I’m sorry … I’m sorry … I didn’t mean it.’
‘What didn’t you mean?’ he asked sternly.
‘I didn’t mean it about the lack of enthusiasm.’
Releasing her wrists, he said severely, ‘I should hope not. But if you still have any doubts that need dispelling we could always spend the day in bed.’
She was about to deny that she still had doubts when he went on with a gleam in his eye, ‘In fact, I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t spend the day in bed anyway.’
Hastily, she told him, ‘Well, I do.’
‘I hope this lack of enthusiasm on your part is only temporary?’
‘It’s just that it’s such a lovely day, and I’d like to see a little more of Square Lake before we start back.’
He sighed. ‘Well, if I have to wait until tonight, at least give me a kiss to be going on with.’
Lifting her face, she offered him her mouth.
When he’d finally and reluctantly freed her lips, she remarked, ‘Earlier I thought I heard voices.’
‘Yes, that would be Ben. He’s just gone. I got hold of him first thing, and the good news is he’s managed to fix the generator. Which means we can both have a shower.’
Glancing at his damp hair, she observed, ‘You look as if you’ve already had yours.’
He shook his head. ‘When there’s only cold water, I prefer the lake.’
She shuddered.
He grinned. ‘However, I can certainly use a hot shower now. But I suggest that you go first while I start to fix breakfast. Oh, by the way, your clothes are dry.’
‘That’s great.’
‘I’m not so sure.’ He gave her a lascivious grin. ‘If they hadn’t been, we might have been forced to spend the day in bed. Still, as you remarked, it’s lovely weather, so we’ll make the most of it before we go back to civilization.’
Caris had liked Hallgarth and she had enjoyed her short stay there. But Square Lake had proved to be an idyllic spot, an enchanted world, and she felt a pang of regret that they would be leaving today.
Zander, who had gone to fetch her robe, watched as she swung her feet to the floor and gingerly tested her ankle.
‘How does it seem?’ he enquired.
‘Much less painful today.’
‘Even so, it would pay to go carefully for another day or two.’
‘I expect you’re right, though I would have loved to take a walk along the lake-shore before we go.’
Hearing the longing in her voice, he knew she had fallen under the spell of the place in much the same way as he himself had.
‘Never mind,’ he said consolingly. ‘We can always put a lake-shore walk on the list of things to do when your ankle’s fully mended.’
Before her ankle was fully mended, it was odds on that she would be back at work and he would be halfway round the world.
But she mustn’t be ungrateful. Whatever fate had in store, there was still today to spend in his company. And she dared not think more than one day at a time; it seemed like tempting fate.
He helped her into the robe and as she began to fasten it made to slip his hand inside, but she playfully slapped it away. ‘I need a shower, and you promised me breakfast.’
Sighing, he agreed. ‘So I did. Ah, well …’
With a come-hither glance, she suggested demurely, ‘Of course it might save time, not to mention water, if we showered together.’
He picked her up in his arms and kissed her. ‘As I’ve said before, you’re a woman after my own heart.’
When they stood together beneath the flow of hot water, Zander filled his palms with shower gel and ran his hands over her wet body with an erotic but leisurely enjoyment.
She longed to do the same to him, but a certain shyness held her back.
As though reading her thoughts, he said a little huskily, ‘Touch me if you want to.’
At first her hands were tentative; then when she saw that he was taking pleasure in her touch they grew bolder.
She stroked her palms over his shoulders, his muscular upper arms and broad chest, her fingers revelling in the feel of the smooth skin and the small nipples.
Working her way downwards, she reached the nest of golden curls nestling at the base of his flat stomach and, greatly daring, explored further.
She heard the breath hiss through his teeth and realized with a thrill of excitement that she had the same power over him as he had over her.
Before she could put it to use, however, his fingers closed around her wrist. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing?’
‘Doing?’ she echoed innocently.
‘Yes, doing.’
Glancing up at him through long lashes, she said plaintively, ‘But I thought you were enjoying it.’
He bent to kiss her. ‘So I was, you little minx. But we could have some shared enjoyment.’
‘We had some shared enjoyment earlier,’ she pointed out sedately. ‘In fact I don’t know how you …’
Catching sight of the amusement in his eyes, she broke off in confusion.
He laughed. ‘Being this close to you when you have no clothes on energizes me.’
‘Is that what you call it?’
‘In polite company. But, whatever you care to call it, shared enjoyment has got to be better.’
Backing her against the wall of the shower, he proceeded to prove it.
Afterwards he dried her thoroughly from head to toe, kissing every inch of her skin as he did so and ensuring that she ended up warm and glowing with contentment and pleasure.
Her things had been placed ready on the stool, and while he towelled himself she began to pull them on.
Noticing her grimace, he asked, ‘Something wrong?’
‘No, not really. It’s just that I would have preferred a change of clothing.’
‘Then you won’t like what I have in mind.’
‘What have you in mind?’
‘I was about to suggest that to give you more chance to look around we stayed here again tonight and went back tomorrow morning.’
Her heart leapt; eager to prolong their idyll, she said, ‘I suppose I could always do some laundry before I go to bed.’
He smiled. ‘Have I mentioned that you’re a woman in a million?’
‘Not for at least five minutes.’
‘Then I must tell you more often.’ With a snatched kiss, he took himself off to make breakfast.
When she had finished drying her hair she swept it up into a bouncy ponytail before making her way onto the front porch.
The air was cool and as sparkling as iced champagne. From a cloudless sky the deep, dark blue of lapis lazuli, sun was pouring down, golden as honey, making myriad raindrops glitter like diamonds on the trees and reeds.
Everywhere was beautiful, still and peaceful. The mirror-calm water reflected the wooded shoreline and rocky promontories, while in the distance the blue sunlit mountains looked serene and enchanted.
Out on the water a rowing boat rode idly while its occupant fished, and closer at hand a bright-red canoe went skimming past.
Caris was watching a dabble of ducks splash and tip their tails in the air as they searched for breakfast when Zander came up behind and put his arms around her.
‘You like?’
‘I love.’ Her head resting against his shoulder, she added dreamily, ‘I’m sure it could never look more beautiful than it does at this moment.’
‘Before you pass judgement, wait until you’ve seen it in the fall.’
Thrilled by his words—the continuing relationship they implied—she twisted her head a little to smile up at him.
He bent to kiss the side of her neck, adding to her
delight before saying, ‘Breakfast’s ready when you can bear to tear yourself away.’
Suddenly feeling ravenously hungry, she said, ‘I guess that’s right now.’
Sitting by the stove, they ate a substantial breakfast of bacon, eggs, mushrooms and hashbrowns while he told her about the lake’s wildlife and all that went on locally.
Over coffee they got down to making serious plans for the day. ‘Do you ride?’ he enquired.
A little surprised, she asked, ‘You mean horses?’
‘Yes.’
‘I used to when I was in my early teens, but I haven’t been on a horse since I left school. Why do you ask? Surely there aren’t any horses around here?’
‘As a matter of fact, Ben keeps a couple of mares which, if you fancy a ride, he’ll be happy to lend us. Alternatively, we could drive to Rosedale or go to see Fort Ticonda, or take another trip on the lake, or even …’
He finished detailing the options. Invited to decide, Caris said eagerly, ‘You mentioned that somewhere on the far side of the lake there were beavers building a dam—would it be possible to go over and see them?’
‘I can’t guarantee that we’ll see them, but we can certainly try. That is, if you can make it to the Ticonda River on foot. I’m afraid it’s impossible to take the boat up, but if we moor at Drystone Creek it’s less than a quarter of a mile, and there’s a reasonable track. Want to give it a go?’
‘Oh, yes please.’
‘Then it might be a good idea to take a picnic and make it a full-day trip.’
‘Can I help pack the food?’
‘Rather than waste time at this end, it might be a good idea to call in at the Lake Store. They pack a quick picnic basket to order, and the store itself is well worth a visit.’
‘Sounds great,’ she said eagerly.
In a little over five minutes she had been helped aboard The Swift and they were on their way over the clear, sunlit waters of the lake.
When they reached the Lake Store, she saw it was a long, low, wooden building supported by huge timber piles. There was fancy decking on the three sides that were over the water, and along the frontage were slatted wooden benches interspersed with tubs of bright flowers.
Several boats were already moored, and a kiosk selling ice-cream, newspapers and sundry other items was doing a brisk trade.
To one side, a stand displaying motor oil and various other accessories was flanked by a couple of elderly petrol pumps.
As soon as Zander had tied up and handed her out, he asked for a picnic basket for two then set to work to fill The Swift’s tank with fuel while Caris went inside to look around.
With its bare floorboards and open-to-the-rafters ceiling, its series of ‘departments’ that ran higgledy piggledy into one another—all with mahogany counters and big old-fashioned tills—Lake Store belonged to a bygone age.
It boasted a chandler, a general store with a hardware section, a butcher, a baker and a food area where large bins full of flour, oats, dried fruit, pulses and cereals were fitted with metal scoops and plastic lids.
At the far end was a small diner with an ancient coffee-machine and a soda bar complete with high stools and a jukebox.
The smell of newly baked bread mingled with that of ham and roast beef, oil and paraffin, apples and summer fruits.
Wandering through the general store with its wide variety of household and personal goods, Caris found it as fascinating as Aladdin’s cave. There were jeans and tee shirts, socks and sneakers, and a selection of underwear that looked as if it had been there since the year dot.
When Zander appeared to say the picnic basket was packed and in the boat, she was looking at some large and far from glamorous cotton knickers.
‘Oh boy!’ He leered at her. ‘Were you thinking of buying any of those?’
Trying not to laugh, she said sedately, ‘No, I wasn’t, as a matter of fact.’
‘Perhaps that’s just as well. Garments like that could drive a man mad with lust.’
As though overcome by said emotion, he began to growl deep in his throat and bent to bite the side of her neck.
With a little choke of laughter she fled outside as fast as her injured ankle would allow, while Zander paused to speak to someone he knew.
Still smiling, she was sitting on a bench, made into a shady arbour by an arched trellis of rambling roses the colour of buttermilk, when he joined her.
‘So, now you’ve seen our Lake Store, what do you think of it?’ he asked quizzically.
‘It gave me the impression of being caught in a time warp.’
‘So it is.’
‘I can’t imagine how they’re able to provide so many different commodities, and how they manage to find enough staff to run the place.’
‘Well, it’s a family concern, and as well as Ben and his wife there are seven grown-up children and a couple of grandparents.’
‘But where do they all live?’
‘Most of them have houses on the lake-shore. A lot of people expected that when the younger generation grew up they’d move nearer to the towns and the bright lights. But there’s something about this place that casts a spell …’
‘Yes, I know,’ Caris agreed wistfully. ‘When tomorrow comes, I’ll be sorry to leave.’
Watching her face, he remarked thoughtfully, ‘We don’t have to leave tomorrow—at least, not unless you want to get home for any reason.’
Choked by a sudden excitement that made her voice husky, she said, ‘No, I don’t, but …’
‘In that case, why not stay?’
‘But what about your work?’
‘Up to now I haven’t taken any time off this year, so I would be more than happy to put everything on hold and have a week’s vacation. What do you say?’
‘I’d love to,’ she agreed with shining eyes.
‘Good.’ He spoke casually, but his expression told her just how pleased he was.
He was about to rise and help her into the boat when an elderly woman walked past them carrying a large cone of multicoloured ice-cream.
With a grin, Zander asked, ‘Fancy an ice-cream before we start?’
She laughed. ‘Why not?’
‘Any particular flavour?’
Fairly conservative as far as ice-cream went, she answered, ‘Vanilla or strawberry, please.’
With a teasing grin, he suggested, ‘Why not live dangerously and have both?’
‘Why not?’
She waited, drinking in the scent of the roses and caught up in a rainbow bubble of happiness, until he returned with two overflowing cones and sat down by her side.
The reserved, rather shy young woman and the cool, self-contained, sophisticated man were gone. In their places were two carefree people who laughed and talked while they licked their ice-creams like a couple of children.
When they had finished, Zander gave her the little secret smile that she was starting to think of as hers alone; leaning forward, he licked a fleck of ice-cream from the corner of her mouth before kissing her lightly.
His lips were cold—his kiss anything but.
When it finally ended he put an arm round her, drawing her closer. His mouth muffled against her silky hair, he asked softly, ‘Have you ever made love in the open air?’
She shook her head.
‘Then imagine you and I lying naked together on warm grass, with the sunshine on our skin, a balmy breeze stirring the leaves overhead and only the call of the loons to disturb the silence …’
Her imagination starting to run riot, she shivered.
‘Does the thought appeal to you?’
‘Well …’
‘You don’t seem particularly eager. Can it be that I’ve worn you out?’
‘No, it’s not that.’ Drawing back a little, she said in a rush, ‘I’d be afraid of anyone seeing us.’
‘I thought you’d decided to live dangerously?’
‘Not that dangerously.’
He laughed at her heartfelt answer.
‘Don’t worry, I know a hidden place just off the track we’ll be taking, where only the birds will see us.’
‘Hmm … Well, perhaps you’d better show me.’
‘I was going to say my pleasure, but I’ll make sure that it’s your pleasure too.’
Her mouth going dry with excitement and anticipation, she allowed herself to be escorted back to the boat and helped in.
When they reached Drystone Creek, Zander moored the boat and handed her out. There wasn’t a soul in sight as he picked up a folded blanket and the picnic basket and escorted her up a slight incline to where the trees started.
‘Go carefully,’ he warned. ‘We don’t want any further damage to that ankle.’
About a hundred yards along the track, he turned and led the way past a large notice nailed to a tree that read: PRIVATE PROPERTY. KEEP OUT.
Sensing her reluctance to venture any further, he said, ‘Don’t worry. This land belongs to Ben, and I have his full permission to be on it.’
A moment later they were making their way through what had at first appeared to be an impenetrable thicket. For a few yards the going was difficult, then they emerged into a clear area with a shallow sunlit knoll which Zander helped her climb, an arm around her waist.
She was wondering how the top of a rounded hill could truly be described as ‘hidden’ when she saw there was a grassy hollow in the centre, partially shaded by a single tree.
It was a most delightful spot.
Having put the picnic basket in the shade, Zander spread the blanket on the sun-dappled grass and, taking her hands, drew her into the hollow and laid her down.
As he stretched out by her side and began to kiss her, a thought struck her that made her tense.
Lifting his head, he enquired, ‘Something wrong?’
Finding the notion quite intolerable, she blurted out, ‘How did you know this was the perfect spot for love-making?’
He frowned. ‘You mean have I ever brought another woman here?’
Looking up into his face, she demanded raggedly, ‘Well, have you?’
‘No, I haven’t.’
There was an unmistakable ring of truth in his voice that convinced her.
‘The last time I was up at Square Lake,’ he went on evenly, ‘I happened to be walking this way and I stopped where we are now to eat my lunch. It seemed to be an idyllic spot, and the thought crossed my mind that if I ever found a woman as perfect I’d bring her here.’
Running From the Storm Page 10
