Suddenly Last Summer (31 page)

“No. I love Pinot Noir, as you well know. It is an excellent wine for food.”

“And a really tricky grape to grow. André Tchelistcheff said ‘God made Cabernet Sauvignon whereas the Devil made Pinot Noir.’” He waited until the wine was poured and lifted his glass. “One day I’ll take you on a Pinot Noir tasting trip to California. We’ll start in Yorkville and end up on the coast at Albion. Forty miles of glorious scenery. Redwood forests that have been there for centuries and acres of vineyards. We could even drive to San Francisco and spend a few days tasting sourdough bread and seafood.”

He was talking as if they had a future. As if this were a relationship, not a night out.

Or maybe he was just trying to keep the conversation light and general to make her comfortable.

She studied the color of the wine, a light ruby-red, thinking that what he described sounded wonderful. “That would be like a dream.”

“It doesn’t have to be a dream. Now that the Boathouse is up and running you can employ more staff, have more time off.”

“We can’t afford to employ more staff. Things are better, but not that good. I know Jackson is still worried. He worries that if the winter season is not good, if there is not enough snow—” She shrugged. “It is very hard for him.”

“No one knows more about getting heads on beds than my brother. He ran a successful hotel business before he took over Snow Crystal. And of course, now he has Kayla and she has serious skills when it comes to spreading the word about something.”

Their food arrived and she admired the presentation and then savored the flavors. “It’s good. You chose well. It is the first time anyone has chosen food for me since I was about four years old. My mother used to save hard and once a month we would go to a restaurant. She would let me choose what we ate. She wanted me to study the ingredients and decide what sounded good together.”

“That sounds like a perfect mother-daughter trip.”

“She thought it was important. A good way to spend money. If I am honest I was just as happy cooking with her at home.”

“You said your earliest memory was cooking madeleines. That’s what you were doing in that photograph in Heron Lodge?”

Emotion settled in her chest. “Yes. For me, my whole childhood is in that one picture.”

“I’ve never tasted your madeleines. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten one.”

“I don’t make them anymore. I haven’t because they remind me—” She shrugged. “There are other delicious things to make.”

“Would you like to have your own restaurant?”

She was grateful for the change of subject. “The Boathouse feels like mine. And living at Snow Crystal is my dream. I wouldn’t want anything else.”

“My family is lucky to have you.”

“I’m the lucky one.” She glanced up. Candlelight flickered across his features, softening hard lines and sending a shimmer of light over glossy dark hair.

She decided that with this man as her date ambiance was irrelevant because no woman in her right mind would be focusing on anything but him. And it wasn’t just his looks that drew her, he was sharp and clever and talking to him gave her a rush she could never remember having with anyone else.

She barely remembered what she and Pascal had talked about. It had been a relationship based around food. Their job. And he’d never shown any interest in what she wanted. Never asked her about her dreams. Never paid her the attention Sean did.

She thought about the night they’d spent in the tent. The night he’d spent just listening while she’d spilled all her secrets.

And he was listening now, his gaze warm and attentive. “You’ve done a good job with the Boathouse. It will give Snow Crystal a real boost.”

“Without you it would not have been finished, but it all had a happy ending. And talking of happy endings, little Sam went home yesterday. He seemed none the worse for his scary experience and they’ve already rebooked for Christmas and next summer.” It unsettled her less to talk about work, to keep the conversation neutral, and perhaps he realized that because he did the same thing.

“That will keep Jackson and Kayla happy. How about you? Still having flashbacks?”

She shuddered and put her fork down. “I do not allow myself to think about it.” That was one topic she wasn’t prepared to use for distraction purposes.

She glanced across at him, ignoring the uneven thud of her heart.

His shirt was open at the neck, showing just a hint of his throat, but all she needed was a hint. She was more than able to fill in the blanks.

She noticed the woman at the table nearby sneak a glance in his direction and was torn between annoyance and sympathy. If you were female it would have been a waste not to look at Sean and to be fair to him the only person he’d looked at since entering the room was her. “He told me that you texted him. That was kind.”

“He had a fright. I’m glad to hear it hasn’t put them off coming back. So is the Boathouse busy?”

“Full every day, breakfast, lunch and dinner. Locals are using it for Sunday brunch. Jackson is pleased.”

He paused. “I spoke to him last week. I told him about Dad.”

“About the phone calls? I’m glad. You shouldn’t have had to carry that burden by yourself.”

“Turned out I should have told him a lot sooner.” His mouth tightened. “I was wrong about a lot of things.”

“About your father?” Élise put her glass down slowly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He gave a tired smile. “We both know the person I should be talking to is Gramps. You were right about that. And pretty much everything else. I think he’s coming around a bit. For a moment last week I thought he was going to bring the subject up.”

“He didn’t?”

“No. Just told me he was proud of me.” A faint smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Which was unusual.”

“I think seeing what you did for Sam made him realize how good you are at what you do. How medicine is the right thing for you.”

“I don’t suppose that will stop him nagging me to get a job closer to home.”

“No. And it won’t stop him nagging you to show up for family night.”

Sean laughed. “Tyler calls it Fright Night.”

They were talking, but every glance was filled with the promise of something more. The atmosphere snapped tight. Heat pulsed between them. It was almost impossible to conduct a conversation, but she was determined to try.

“I think it’s a lovely tradition. Not so different from my mother taking me out to dinner once a month. It was a time for us. A time we talked about things without distraction. Your family night is the same thing except there are lots of you and it’s very noisy. You’re lucky. So when are you planning to talk to your grandfather?”

“Tomorrow.”

“You’re staying the night at Snow Crystal.”

“That’s the plan.” His gaze was focused on her. “Of course, my brother is sick of having me as a house guest so I might end up driving back to Boston unless I can find somewhere else to sleep.”

Neither of them noticed as the waiter removed their plates.

“Sean—”

“I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to say you’ve never spent a whole night with a man, you don’t do that. But we already spent a whole night together, Élise. Last summer was the whole night. I’m just suggesting we do the same thing but without the butt-biting insects and the showers of rain.”

She laughed, as he’d intended her to. “I loved the rain. The whole thing was magical. Special.” But she knew it hadn’t been the rain or the scent of summer clinging to the forest leaves that had made it special, it had been the chemistry. The connection between them.

“I loved the rain, too.” The glint in his eyes suggested his memory of that night was as fresh as hers. “Let’s go.”

He paid, and they walked from the restaurant to the car, shoulders brushing.

“Thank you. I enjoyed myself tonight.”

“So did I. Next time I’ll take you to Boston. We’ll go to the opera.”

Next time?
She felt as if she were on a runaway train with no brakes. “I’ve never been to the opera. My mother took me to the ballet once. It was incredible.”

“You’ll love it. Tyler calls it caterwauling.”

They drove home through darkness, along winding roads hugged by forests, through valleys and villages, past pretty churches and covered bridges.

She was aware only of him. Of his hands on the wheel, of his strength, his control.

Of her own feelings.

She couldn’t stop thinking, looking, wanting to touch until she thought she’d go mad with it. She thought it was just her, but then he stopped at a set of lights, reached across and slid his fingers over hers and her heart stopped.

Neither of them said anything and then she curled her hand into his, so aroused she could feel the delicious curl of anticipation unravel inside her.

He stared straight ahead and then finally, for one brief moment, turned his head to look at her. He pressed her hand down onto her leg so the tips of his fingers brushed against her bare thigh.

The look in his eyes robbed her of breath and by the time he turned into the road leading to the resort she was ready to throw herself from the moving car and head for the protective covering of the forest.

He killed the engine and they came together like two wild creatures. His mouth collided with hers. She locked her hands in the front of his shirt. She felt the bite of his fingers in her hair, the erotic slide of his tongue against hers, the heat of his mouth and the sizzle of the blood in her veins. It was a heart-pounding, blood-pumping kiss and she slid her arms around his neck, trying to get closer.

With an effort he dragged his mouth from hers, but only long enough to mutter the words
“not here.”

They disentangled from each other long enough to stumble out of the car, then he grabbed her hand and they ran along the narrow trail that led to the lake and Heron Lodge.

Too far,
she thought, and caught his shoulder with her hand.

“Kiss me—”

With a soft curse he slowed, lowered his mouth to hers and then groaned as she slid her arms around his neck. “Not here—not—” He clamped his arm around her waist, still kissing her, and she was scorched by the heat of it, drowned by the tide of sensation that threatened to knock her off her feet.

Dizzy from the skill in his kiss, she tugged at his shirt, desperate to touch, to have her hands on his body. “I want you—”

“Jesus, Élise—” He trapped her up against a tree, his hands on her hips, holding her against the hard throb of his erection as she dragged her hands over his shoulders. His muscles were rock-solid under her fingers and she closed her eyes as she felt the roughness of his jaw scrape the soft skin of her neck.

“Now—please now—” she couldn’t wait any longer and she heard him stifle an oath and then sweep her into his arms. “Sean—”

“Don’t say a word.” His teeth were gritted, his jaw clenched as he carried her the short distance to her lodge. “Just don’t say a word. And definitely don’t kiss me. I’m trying to walk.”

“I want—”

“Yeah, me, too.” He took the steps in two strides. “But this time I want to see what we can do with a bed and a locked door.”

The air was still, the water quiet and serene, the forest sleeping in the warmth of the summer night. Barn swallows swooped with the ruffle and quiver of wings as Sean crossed the deck but tonight she wasn’t interested in her surroundings, only in the man.

She trailed her mouth across his jaw and heard the breath hiss through his teeth. “Have I told you you’re sexy?”

“Don’t tell me,” he said, as he shouldered the door open, “not yet. Hold that thought.”

“You’re sexy—”

“Holy shit—” He kicked the door shut and then gave up the fight and took her mouth. He was out of control and she was, too, and they stumbled toward the stairs, losing clothes, kissing, touching, greedy and desperate.

She tore off his shirt. He stripped off her dress. Her bra hit the floor next and then the tiny scrap of matching silk that was all that was left of her clothing. And then they were both naked and he pushed her back onto the bed, his mouth on hers, his kiss hotly sexual and explicit.

Moonlight streamed through the open windows, spotlighting naked limbs, powerful shoulders, the gleam of black hair, the glimmer of blue eyes.

The heat they generated was ferocious, the need a ravenous beast inside her and she shifted her hips, wanting him so badly it drove everything she did.

His hand slid between her legs, the intimate stroke of his fingers sending a dart of agonizing excitement through her body. His mouth moved lower, fastening on her breast, teasing, driving her wild until her moans turned into a sob and he slid lower and spread her legs. She felt naked, exposed and just for a moment something in her faltered, but he trapped her there, anchoring her hips with strong hands while he tortured her with his mouth and his tongue, each skilled flick driving her higher and higher.

Finally, when she was right on the edge, almost blind with it, he shifted her under him and entered her with a single thrust that made her cry out. Hard, hot, powerful he surged into her and she dug her fingers into the sleek muscle of his shoulders, holding on, afraid to let go because she’d never experienced anything so out of control, so wild. And deep down a part of her knew this wasn’t just sex, that the connection was different this time, and briefly she struggled to regain her emotional balance, to find the level of control that had been her protection for almost a decade, but it was out of her grasp. The armor, the walls she constructed around herself for protection, came tumbling down, or maybe he smashed them down because the way he was looking at her, the way he held her gaze with each driving thrust, left her nowhere to hide. And she realized that
this
was exposed, not being naked, but sharing this moment of exquisite intimacy with this man.

“Come for me—” he growled the words against her mouth “—don’t hold back. I want all of it. All of you.”

“Sean—” she had no choice but to give him everything he demanded. She was lost, possessed, out of control and she felt sensation erupt and shower them both, dimly heard him groan as her body tightened around his and then she was tumbling, spinning, unable to stop herself, holding on to the strong shoulders, gasping his name against his lips as they crashed over the edge together.