Sanctuary (26 page)

“You're a bad one, Lex.” Giff pinned her, grinned down into her face. She still wore her bra—they hadn't quite gotten around to disposing of it—and he enjoyed the sensation of the slick material rubbing against his chest. “Just how would I have explained myself if she'd come over this way?”

“If she doesn't know what's going on, it's time someone showed her.”

With a shake of his head, he leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. “You're too hard on your sister.”

“I'm too hard on her?” Lexy snorted. “Let's try that the other way around. It fits much better.”

“Well, maybe you're too hard on each other. Looks to me like Jo's had a rough time with something lately.”

“Her life's perfect for her,” Lexy disagreed, pouting and twirling a lock of Giff's hair around her fingers. “She's got her work, all that traveling. People ooh and aah over her photographs like they were newborn babies. Or they study them like stupid textbooks. And she makes piles of money, enough so that she doesn't have to worry about stingy trust funds.”

Love tugged at him as he skimmed his knuckles over her chin. “Honey, it's a pure foolish waste of time for you to be jealous of Jo.”

“Jealous?” At the shock of the insult her eyes went dark and wide. “Why in holy hell would I be jealous of Jo Ellen?”

“Exactly.” He kissed her, just a little nibbling peck. “The two of you are after the same thing. The way you are and the way you go after it are as different as night and day, but the goal's the same.”

“Really?” Her voice was cool and smooth as fresh milk. “And what goal would that be?”

“To be happy. That's what most people want down under the rest of it. And to make their mark. Just because she's made hers before you doesn't make yours less important. And, after all, she had three years' head start.”

It didn't placate Lexy in the least. Her voice went from cool to icy. “I don't know why you brought me out here if all you wanted to do was talk about my sister.”

“Honey, you brought me.” He grinned and kept her pinned under him despite her bad-tempered wiggles. “As I recall, you moseyed on down to Sand Castle Cottage, where I was minding my own business, replacing screens. You whispered a little something in my ear, and as you already had this here blanket in your tote, what was a man to do?”

She lifted her chin, raised a brow. “Why, I don't know, Giff. What is a man to do?”

“I guess I'll have to show you.”

He took his time and that left her a little weak and trembling. The night before, everything had poured over her in a hot rush. Need on top of pleasure, pleasure clawing at need. But today, in the cool air and dim light, his hands were slow, calluses scraping gently over her skin, fingers pressing, then skimming. And though his mouth was hot, it didn't hurry. It came back to hers again and again, as if hers was the only flavor he needed.

When she sighed, it came from deep within.

She could be seduced as well as taken. He'd waited a lifetime to do both, to watch her let him do both. There was nothing about her that wasn't precious to him. Now he could show her, inch by inch. One day soon he would tell her, word by word.

When he slipped inside her, her moan of welcome was sweet and silky. He braced himself over her to give more, to take more, and his pace was as lazy as the river that flowed nearby.

She whimpered when he lowered his head to suck gently on her breasts.

“You come first,” he murmured. “So I can see you.”

She couldn't have stopped herself. She was being carried along like a weightless leaf on the river's current. The orgasm flowed through her, long and lovely and deep. She could barely sigh out his name as it slid through her system.

His mouth came back to hers as it curved, and he emptied himself into her.

“Mmmm.” It was all she could manage as he rolled her over and snuggled her head on his chest. She'd never had a climax like that—one that crept up from the toes like silk-dipped fingers.

And he'd seemed so in control, so completely aware of her. Only the thunder of his heart under her cheek proved that he'd been as undone as she.

She smiled again, and turned her lips to his chest. “You must have done a lot of practicing.”

He kept his eyes closed, enjoying the air on his face and her hair under his hand. “I'm a strong believer that you keep working on a skill until you get it right.”

“I'd say you got it right.”

“I've wanted you all my life, Lexy.”

It made something inside her shiver to hear him say it, so simple, so easy. Caught in the afterglow, she lifted her head, and when she looked at him, that something shivered again. “I guess, deep down, I've always wanted you too.”

When his eyes opened, and the look in them made her mouth go dry, she put on a sassy grin. “But you used to be so skinny.”

“You used to be flat-chested.” She chuckled when he reached down to cup her breasts. “Things do change.”

Scooting up, she straddled him. “And you used to pull my hair.”

“You used to bite me. I've still got your teeth marks back of my left shoulder.”

Laughing, she shook her hair back. It was going to be painful to brush the tangles out, but she had to admit, it had been well worth it. “You do not.”

“Hell I don't. Mama calls it my Hathaway brand.”

“Let's just see.” She tugged at him until he rolled toward his side. She peered down, squinted, though she could see the faint white scar clearly enough. Her brand. It gave her an odd little thrill to know he carried it. “Where? I don't see anything.” She shifted closer. “Oh, you mean that little thing? Why, that's nothing. I can do much better now.”

Before he could defend himself, she clamped her teeth on his shoulder. He yelped, flipped her over, and rolled until they were tangled in the blanket. His hands managed to reach here, reach there so that she was as breathless with freshening desire as with laughter.

“I'd say it's time I put my mark on you.”

“Don't you dare bite me, Giff.” She giggled, struggled, rolled. “Ouch! Damn it.”

“I didn't bite you yet.”

“Well, something did.”

He moved fast, visions of snakes slicing into his brain. He rolled her, gained his feet, and scooped her into his arms in one lightning move. Her jaw dropped open as she watched his eyes, suddenly hard and cold, scan the ground.

“Golly,” was all she could manage, as her romantic's heart flopped in her chest.

Nothing slithered or crept or crawled. But he saw a glint of silver. He set Lexy on her feet, turned her around. A faint red scrape marred her delicate shoulder blade. “You just rolled over something, that's all.” He kissed the scrape lightly, then bent to pick up the dangle of silver. “Somebody's earring.”

Bright-eyed, Lexy reached back to rub absently at the little pain. Why, he'd picked her up as if she weighed nothing at all, she thought dreamily. And he'd stood there, holding her, as if he would have defended her against a fire-breathing dragon.

Images of Lancelot and Guinevere, of misty castles, floated into her head before she managed to focus on the earring Giff was holding. It was a bright trail of small silver stars.

“That's Ginny's.” With a slight frown, she reached out and took it from him. “It's from her favorite pair. Wonder how it got here.”

Giff lifted his brows, wiggled them. “I guess we're not the first people to use the forest for something other than a nature walk.”

With a laugh, Lexy sat on the blanket again, setting the earring carefully beside her before she reached for her bra. “I guess you'd be right. Long detour from the campground and her cottage, though. Was she wearing them last night?”

“I don't pay much mind to my cousin's earbobs,” Giff said dryly.

“I'm almost sure ...”

She trailed off, trying to bring back the picture. Ginny'd been wearing a bright-red shirt with silver studs, tight white jeans cinched with a concho belt. And yes, Lexy thought, almost certainly her favorite silver star dangles. Ginny liked the way they swung and caught the light.

“Well, doesn't matter. I'll get it back to her. If I can find her.”

He sat down to pull on his Jockeys. “What do you mean?”

“She must have found herself a hot date at the bonfire last night. She didn't show up for work this morning.”

“What do you mean she didn't show up? Ginny always shows up.”

“Well, she didn't this morning. I heard the hubbub over it when I came down for the breakfast shift.” Lexy dug in her tote for a hair pick and began the arduous process of dragging out the tangles. “Ouch, damn it. We had a bunch of check-ins and -outs over at the campground, and no Ginny. Kate sent Daddy and Jo over to handle it.”

Giff pulled on his jeans, rising to snap them. “They checked her cabin?”

“I finished up before they got back, but I'd expect so. I can tell you, Kate was in a tizzy.”

“That's not like Ginny. She's wild, but she'd never leave Kate in the lurch that way.”

“Maybe she's sick.” Lexy rubbed the earring between her fingers before tucking it into the little pocket of the tiny shorts she'd put on to drive Giff crazy. “She was knocking back the tequila pretty steady.”

He nodded in agreement, but he knew that even hung over, she'd have done her job or seen to her own replacement. He remembered the way she'd looked, staggering over the beach in the dark, waving at him and Lexy, blowing them kisses. “I'll go check on her.”

“You do that.” Lexy rose, enjoying the way he watched her legs unfold. “And maybe later . . .” She slid her arms around him, up his back. “You'll come check on me.”

“I was giving that some thought. I was figuring I'd come by, have dinner at the inn. Let you ... serve me.”

“Oh.” Her lips took on a feline curve as she stepped back, slowly pulling the pick through her long corkscrew curls. “Were you figuring that?”

“Yeah. Then I was figuring how about if I just wandered on upstairs afterward, maybe wandered right on into your room. We could try this in a bed for a change.”

“Well.” She ran her tongue over her top lip. “I might just be available tonight—depending on what kind of tipper you are.”

He grinned and captured her just-moistened lips with his in a kiss that rocked her straight back on her heels.

When she could breathe again, she exhaled slowly. “That's a real good start.” She bent down to gather the blanket, deliberately turning to tease him with tight buns in tight shorts, then turned her head. “I'm going to give you . . . excellent service.”

 

 

BY the time Giff was back in his truck and on the road to the campground, his heart rate was nearly back to normal. The woman was potent, he thought, and life with her was going to be a continual adventure. He didn't think she was quite ready to have her notions adjusted to a lifetime with him, but he was going to work on that too.

He smiled to himself, flipped the radio up so Clint Black wailed through the speakers. He had it all planned, Giff mused. The courtship—which was progressing just fine in his opinion. The proposal, the marriage, the life.

As soon as he convinced her that he was exactly what she needed, that would be that. Meanwhile, they would give each other a hell of a ride.

He turned into the campground, frowning a little as he saw the teenager inside the booth instead of Ginny. “Hey, Colin.” Giff braked, leaned out his window. “Got you manning the post today?”

“Looks like.”

“Seen Ginny?”

“Not hide nor hair.” The boy tried out a lascivious wink. “She musta caught a live one.”

“Yeah.” But there was an uncomfortable shift in Giff's gut. “I'm going to look in at her cabin. See what's up.”

“Help yourself.”

Giff drove slowly, mindful of the possibility that a child might dart out in front of him. With summer just around the corner, he knew more would be coming, stacking up in the campground, the cottages, spreading towels on the beach. Those in the cottages would fry themselves in the sun half the day, then come back and run their ACs to the max. Which usually meant he'd be kept busy replacing coils.

Not that he minded. It was good, honest work. And though he dreamed now and then of taking on something more challenging, he figured his time would come.

He pulled up into Ginny's short drive and climbed out. He hoped to find her in bed, moaning, with her head in a basin. That would explain why it was so damn quiet. When she was home, Ginny always had the radio blaring, the TV on, her voice raised in song or in argument with one of the talk shows she was addicted to. The noises clashed cheerfully. She said it kept her from feeling lonesome.

But he heard nothing except the click of palm fronds in the breeze, the hollow plop of frogs in water. He walked to the door, and because he'd run as tame in her cabin as he did in his own home, he didn't bother to knock.

He nearly jumped out of his skin as he pulled open the door and a man's form filled it. “Jesus Christ Almighty, Bri, you might as well shoot me as scare me to death.”

“Sorry.” Brian smiled a little. “I heard the truck, thought it might be Ginny.” His gaze shifted over Giff's shoulder. “She's not with you, is she?”

“No, I just heard she wasn't at work and came to check.”

“She's not here. It doesn't look like she's been around today, though it's hard to tell.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “Woman's messy as three teenage girls on a rampage.”