Books by Maggie Shayne (40 page)

Ren cleared his throat. “I… I was worried. You shouldn’t go out alone, Annie. Blackheart could be—”

“I don’t want to hear about Blackheart. I just want to swim.”

There was something in her eyes, something potent and brazen and deliberate. He tried to ignore it but knew he was losing the battle.

“How do you know it’s safe? For the baby, I mean?”

Her lips curved upward slightly at the corners. “I asked the doctor when I called him from my mother’s. I asked the doctor about everything I could think of, Ren. Everything I thought I might even remotely consider doing up here.”

He almost choked. He blinked, thinking the expression in her eyes might be a trick of the moonlight, but it remained the same. Seductive, inviting.

“I… I think you ought to come back to the house, Annie.”

“Well, I think you ought to come swimming with me, Ren. The way we used to do.” She released the dock, turned, and pushed off, paddling away. Ren glimpsed the perfect white curve of her buttocks as she did, just for an instant. When she surfaced again a few yards away, she slapped her hands against the water, sending a light shower onto his chest. “So, you coming in, or what?”

She was smiling, impish in her delight. He couldn’t help but smile back. God, the many moods of Annie never ceased to amaze. But this was one he liked, one he’d longed to see. She was happy. And if it took swimming naked in the moonlight to see that she remained that way, then he’d spend the rest of his time right there in the water with her.

He was lost then, and he knew it. It was too late to think about the consequences. Ren watched her for another full minute before he reached for his jeans and began to lower the zipper. He took them off and Annie stopped her playing. She came into the shallow water, just up to her shoulders, and she stood very still, her gaze burning over him. He stood in the moonlight, feeling those eyes on him, wondering if she’d turn away. Wondering if he wanted her to.

She didn’t. She feasted on him all the while he undressed, until he stood naked on the shore, and Annie stared, not saying a word.

And when he stepped into the water, even its sudden chill didn’t diminish the effect that longing in her eyes had on his body. He swam out to her, emerging right in front of her. And still she stood in silence.

He ought not to do what he was about to do, but Ren knew painfully well that the time for changing his mind was long past. He drew her into his arms, letting his hands slip around her wet body, running his palms damply over her back. And he kissed her. He pressed her mouth open and took it the way he’d been wanting to for so long, and he tasted everything he remembered in its velvet depths.

Annie shuddered in his arms.

“Do you know how much I want you, Annie? How I’ve longed for this? My God, it’s been killing me.” His words came in deepening gasps against her mouth, her face, her throat.

“No,” she whispered. “I didn’t know. I thought you couldn’t—”

“So did I,” he told her. “You made me feel again.”

“It took you long enough to tell me.”

“Somehow I can’t believe you ever doubted it.”

“I doubted,” she said. “But I hoped…”

He ran his hands down her back, over her perfect hips; he closed his fingers on her buttocks and kneaded her. Then he lifted her, his hands slipping through the water, down the backs of her thighs, spreading them until they wrapped around his waist, above his hips. She leaned back in the water, floating, clinging to his shoulders. Ren bent over her, capturing a full, ripe breast in his mouth, nuzzling it until its nipple stood erect and throbbing, and then licking it mercilessly. He braced one hand in the center of her back to hold her to his mouth. The other, he brought around, between them, and downward, his fingers dipping into the wetness between her legs.

God, though it would kill him to restrain himself, he would. But if it was the last thing he lived to do, he’d see her in ecstasy. He’d see the way her face twisted in sweet agony with the pleasures he’d bestow. She’d never forget him.

His fingers dipped lower, parted, touched. She gasped and her eyes flew wide open. And he watched her. Dipping his head to torture her breasts with his mouth, he kept glancing up to watch the expressions flit over her face. When his fingers probed inside her, her eyes closed and her lips parted. And when he withdrew them slowly only to insert them again, deeper, and pulled back and thrust again, faster, faster each time, she set her jaw, clenched her teeth. Not enough. Not yet.

She opened her eyes, curious, when he pulled his fingers away, but they widened and she bit her lip when he pinched the pulsing nub at the center of her between his thumb and forefinger. When he rolled it there, increasing the pressure, squeezing, harder, rolling again, her mouth opened wide and she cried out. With his free fingers, he entered her slick, trembling passage again, working her as before. His teeth closed on her nipple pinching with gentle force.

She broke into a scream that was the sweetest music. She shook like a willow in a windstorm and convulsed around his fingers and fought to breathe.

And then she relaxed all at once. Lying back in the water, only his hand at the small of her back and her legs locked around him keeping her afloat. He groaned softly, looking down at her breasts, nipples still pebble hard, peeking out of the dark, cold water. Then he met her eyes and saw her gentle smile.

“You don’t think you’re going to get away with that, do you?” A teasing gleam lit her eyes.

“What—”

But she clasped his shoulders, loosened the hold her legs had on him just a little, and lowered herself. Her wet center slid down over his rigid core, and Ren closed his eyes in sweet ecstasy. Grating his teeth, he rasped, “But what about, ah… what about the baby?” He was damned close to losing the power to think, let alone speak.

“Same rules as the horses, Ren,” she whispered. “Slow and easy.” She lowered herself further, took more of him. “Actually, that's what I called about in the first place. I didn’t give a damn about the horses or the swimming. Just…” She took him to the hilt, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. “Just this.”

Her hands at his nape, she lifted herself to kiss him, and Ren gave up. There was no resisting her. Siren. Lake fairy. Enchantress. No, he heard himself whisper. None of those.
Just Annie. Just my wife.

He began to move with her, so carefully and slowly that his need doubled in his loins. It burned in him, and he trembled a little, and then more, as he forced the gentle pace to continue. His hands at her buttocks, he lifted her, lowered her. Again and again, and the silken sheath of Annie caressed him and pulled away. Encompassed him and released him. And slowly, agonizingly, his mind spiraled upward, his body reached for the heavens. And because of the slowness, he savored it when it finally came, washing over him as completely as the waves. Flooding him, and going on and on and on. He heard her cry his name, felt her climax joining his, becoming a part of his.

He held her tight, closed his eyes, and with everything in him wished he would never have to leave her again.

When she woke in the morning, they were inside, bundled together in the big bed beneath a mound of covers. Vaguely she remembered the trip. Laughing, kissing, stumbling naked and wet and leaving dollops of water through the cabin on their way to the bed. She remembered the goose bumps from the chilly air, and the other ones Ren gave her. And she knew she loved him as much now as before. More than before. And she always would, even if he did have to leave her in the end.

Annie bit her lip at the pain that swelled inside her at that thought. She knew what life would be without him. A dark, empty, barren place. A place she’d been stranded in for the last eight months. One to which she had no desire to return. But she would. And maybe this time she’d be a little more able to deal with the loneliness, the ache in her heart. Or maybe this time it would destroy her. She thought she was stronger now than she’d been before. Coming here with him had given her a new layer of steel. Maybe because she’d discovered the woman she’d once been and had found a way to draw on her strength. Or maybe it was her child, so close to being born now, making her strong again. Or maybe it was having her husband back with her for this precious time. Whatever it was, she had to find a way to hold on to it.

But would it last? Would it see her through the dark times to come?

God, she hoped so. Otherwise she’d sink into depression and despair once more, perhaps this time never to emerge into sunlight again. And she was finding she liked the sunlight, liked living without the blackness of despair weighing her down. She’d never realized how precious true happiness was when she’d had it. Now that it had reappeared, she cherished it all the more.

A tiny foot thumped her from within, and she automatically put her hand on the spot, smiling down at it. “I know, I know. I can’t let that happen, can I?” She closed her eyes, found and clung to that strength within. “All right, then, little one. I won’t. I’ll be strong for you, no matter what happens. No more drowning in sorrow. Not for you and me.” It was a whisper. A secret promise between her and her child. One she vowed to keep, somehow, some way.

But not now. Right now she had no desire to waste precious time feeling sad about the future or wondering how she’d manage to bear living without him again. God knew she’d have enough time to miss him later. If Ren still insisted on leaving her again. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe now he’d understand… and want to stay. And if he decided he wanted to stay with her after all, she’d find a way to make that happen. She’d fight to the end for him. And she had a feeling that was exactly what she was going to have to do if she hoped to win this battle.

She sat up and just looked at him, sleeping so close to her. With a secret smile she whispered her thanks to the universe for this time with him. She’d cherish it always, no matter what else might happen.

Ren stirred. He always did within a few minutes of her waking. Always had. She waited, watched. The sheet only clung to his hips and a portion of his thighs. His broad, tanned shoulders and toned back enticed her, made her fingers itch to touch him. His golden hair caressed his shoulders, and as she devoured it with her eyes, Annie decided she liked it this way. Long and untamed. She’d ask him to keep it this way—if he stayed.

He said he couldn’t stay. Not wouldn’t but couldn’t. He said that breaking his oath to this Sir George character was punishable by death.

Annie blocked out the voice in her mind that warned her against getting her hopes up. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t! She wouldn’t let it be! She’d find the strength to fight the forces that would take him from her again, and this time she would win.

Ren opened his sleepy blue eyes and sent her the lazy, crooked smile she adored. A little knot formed in her stomach at the sight of it. Just the way it always had. How could things be so much the same and yet so very different? So very strange and distorted?

“Hi, beautiful.” His hand rose to cup the back of her head. He pulled her down to him and thoroughly kissed her mouth. “Breakfast ready?”

She shook her head. “Afraid not.” She should ask him what would happen if he tried to stay. They should talk this through, make a plan. They should plot and strategize until they knew how to beat this thing.

Not now, though.

Part of her knew it was cowardice to put it off. She was afraid to hear him tell her it was impossible for him to remain here. She didn’t want to know that. Until she knew that, she could hold on to hope. She could convince herself that there must be a way. There had to be a way. As long as there was a shred of hope, she could bask in his closeness, relish his nearness, revel in his love the way she’d always done.

“I do
vaguely remember offering to fix it, though,” she put in, shaking her hair with her I fingers in hopes of shaking the disturbing, depressing thoughts from her mind. “I’ll get busy right away.” She sent him a wink. “I have an inkling you’re very hungry this morning. You were rather… busy last night.”

She saw the flare of desire in his blue eyes as she moved to get up, and she wasn’t surprised when he caught her arm and kept her still.

He sat up on his elbow, gazed at her, pushed the hair off her face, and cupped her cheek. “You’re an incredible woman, Annie. And you’re gorgeous in the morning.” He kissed her once again, this time drawing her back down into the bed and holding her against him. “Sorry, Annie-girl, but I can’t let you get up just yet.”

Annie knew she was in heaven. And she didn’t want to ruin it by talking about his eventually leaving her again. There would be plenty of time to discuss that later. Not now, not here in their special place.

“French toast,” he whispered against her lips, making the words sound erotic. “With maple syrup. I’ll make you a plateful of it too delicious to resist.”

“I thought I was responsible for cooking breakfast.” She spoke around his kisses.

He nuzzled her neck, nibbled it. “I lied. I’m cooking. Later. Quite a little bit later, actually. But I don’t want you lifting a finger, Annie. I want to pamper you while—”

She kissed his mouth to keep him from finishing the sentence. She didn’t want to think about the future. It hurt too much.

An hour later, after some delicious experiments in lovemaking, Annie found herself relaxing in the little rowboat, amid a decadent nest of cushions and pillows pilfered from the cabin. They moved quickly through the still waters, beneath an orange ball of a sun as big as the world. Mists rose from the surface of the lake as if the water were steaming hot. Long, twisting tendrils of pale gray, reaching upward, ghosts trying to get to heaven. They danced in slow motion, changing shape again and again until the little boat pierced their cloud of illusion, and the ghostly curtains parted to let them pass.

The cool breeze that touched her face smelled of pine and fresh, sweet water. As it gained force, the mists dissipated a bit more. And Annie was glad. She didn’t like the creepy feeling the fogginess stirred in her. That sensation was chased away even more thoroughly when first a few and then a thousand morning birds lifted their voices in a raucous opera that seemed designed to welcome the sun.

Ren stopped rowing when he judged them to be in a suitable spot. He pulled in the oars, took a covered dish from the basket he’d brought along, and set it in her lap.

Annie took off the lid and eyed the steaming stack. “Oh, this smells heavenly.”

“Powdered milk, powdered eggs, and God knows how long that loaf of bread has been in the freezer,” he informed her. “But the spices might make it edible.”

She dug in while Ren poured coffee from a thermos. “Here,” he said, handing her a cup. “Decaf. It’s better for the baby.”

She smiled and took the warm mug. True to his word, Ren was pampering her. He’d flexed his culinary muscle while she’d showered and dressed this morning, refusing to let her lift a finger to help.

“French toast was always your specialty,” she told him as she leaned over to inhale the luscious scent.

“No wonder it came so easily. So I was a great cook, was I?”

She grinned at him. “It was your specialty because it was the one and only dish you could prepare with any kind of success.“

He looked sheepish. “So you were stuck doing all the cooking for us? That hardly seems fair.”

“Oh no. You cooked.” She grimaced. “Or you tried to.”

“It was that bad?”

“I always smiled and told you it was wonderful.”

“And I’d see right through you and call for pizza,” he said.

Annie went still, her smile dying. “Ren… ?” He closed his eyes, biting his lip as if he wanted to take back his words. But she knew. “You remember,” she whispered.

He looked into her eyes. “Only bits and pieces. Things… come back to me at odd moments. I just… I just thought it would be easier on you if you didn’t know.”

She reached out to stroke his hair. “Like you thought it would be easier on me if I didn’t know you still wanted me,” she said softly.

He only nodded. “I held out as long as I could.” Then his eyes glittered as they probed hers, and his hand covered hers in his hair. “I should have known better, though. I didn’t stand a chance.” He smiled at her—devilishly handsome, that smile. And it chased away the sadness the thought of his leaving her had evoked. “Eat your French toast,” he told her. “It’s good for you. Besides, I want you to keep your strength up.” And he winked.

She smiled at him. It was the first time they’d talked about their life together. And suddenly it felt as if he’d never left her. Annie sipped her coffee and ate some more of the food. “God knows -there’s little nutritional value to French toast,” she told him, “but it tastes heavenly.” She slapped her forehead as that thought prompted another. “Oh, great. I forgot my vitamins this morning, Ren. Remind me when we get—”

He pulled the little bottle out of the picnic basket with a flourish. “I thought of everything.”

“I guess you did.” She took the pills from him, twisted off the cap, then paused in mid-motion, her head coming up, eyes scanning the fog-shrouded waters in the distance.

The wind had changed. It came more briskly than before, rippling the water, making the rowboat turn and bounce harder in time with the waves.

Frowning, she glanced at Ren, a question in her eyes. Something seemed… odd. It had grown so quiet all at once, except for the wind. The fish had stopped jumping, and the birds no longer chirped their boisterous chorus from the surrounding forest. Ren’s brows bent to touch one another. He, too, seemed concerned.

“Well, that’s odd. It was so placid up until a second ago.” She shook one of her vitamins into her hand.

Before her eyes the fluffy white clouds dotting the pale sky picked up their pace, first skittering, then stampeding. The sky had the look of some experiment in time-lapse photography. Wind whipped her hair, snapped the hem of her blouse. Waves swelled from water that had been still as glass only moments before. The rowboat rose suddenly, as if in the grip of a huge hand, then sank rapidly, dropped into the deep trough the wave left in its wake. Again and again they were tossed and shaken. The pill bottle flew from Annie’s hand as she gripped the sides of the rowboat. She reached for it, only to see it land in the bottom of the boat, its contents spilling helter-skelter.

“Hold on, Annie!” Ren’s hand pressed hers back onto the boat’s side. “Just hold on!”

He was yelling at her, she realized, because she wouldn’t have heard him otherwise. The wind howled and moaned now, and the water was churning in response. She did as she was told, gripping the sides for dear life as the sudden windstorm whipped and twisted around them. Ren fought the storm, struggling to row the boat toward shore. The waves grew angrier, greedier. They rose right up over the sides now, slapping him, soaking him. One hit Annie full in the face, so hard it nearly knocked her backward. She held on tighter. She could barely see for the wet hair plastered to her face, but she didn’t dare let go even long enough to push it away. She only shook her head hard and bunked the lake water out of her eyes. Vaguely she noted that their picnic basket had been swept overboard. Their dishes, their Thermos. She just caught a glimpse of her pill bottle before it was sucked under by the hungry waves.

Whatever it was, it was over fast. The sudden windstorm’s fury passed over them. She could see it move away, see the trees bowing with it as it swept through them. The lake calmed, gentled, until the little boat settled down into its embrace once again. The sun seemed to shine more brightly than before, and the clouds fled from its golden rays as if burned by them.

Ren’s gaze met Annie’s, and she saw the perplexity it held. He was puzzled. Warily she eased her grip on the sides, swiped the dripping stragglers from her face, looked down at her soaking-wet clothes, and shook her head. “What the hell
was
that?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t like it.”

He bent to the oars, his powerful arms rippling with effort. The boat skimmed the blue surface, and in a few moments they were at the dock and Ren was jumping up onto it, tying the little craft securely at the far end. Then he reached for her, and the frown lines she saw marring his beautiful face worried her. Something was wrong. She felt it down deep in her bones.

“Ren, what is it?”

He took her hand, drew her to her feet, and steadied her as she stepped up onto the solid wooden dock. “I don’t know. That windstorm, it worries me. It just didn’t seem…” He shook his head.

“Didn’t seem what?”

“Natural.” With his arm tightening around her shoulders to draw her close to him, he tipped his head skyward as if searching for something.

She fought the shudder that raced up her spine and glanced down at her tightly clenched fist. Slowly she opened her hand to see the green-blue capsule beginning to disintegrate in her palm. “Well, at least I didn’t lose all of my vitamins.” As an attempt at levity, it was weak. Still, she popped the bitter-tasting pill into her mouth before any more of it could dissolve, and hurried into the cabin for a drink to wash it down.