The Art of Love: Origins of Sinner's Grove (25 page)

I
t was nearly dark by the time they boarded the ferry in Sausalito. Lia and Gus sat side by side and he put his arm around her. The gentle sway of the boat was like a lullaby and her eyes began to droop. Ever so gently, Gus pressed her head against his chest. The next thing she knew he was shaking her just as gently.

“Wake up, Lia. We’re back in the city.”

The ride home in his open car was cold, but Gus had bundled her up in two blankets this time, and put her almost-forgotten red hat back on her head. Still, she was wide awake by the time they arrived back at her bungalow. She didn’t want their time to end. Should she invite him in for coffee? Would he think her a loose woman if she did? He solved her dilemma by insisting that he come in and build up her fire. He tossed his coat on the table and knelt next to her small fireplace.

“Thank you for today,” she said quietly, standing next to him as he worked up a respectable blaze that would warm her through the night.

He rose to his full height and faced her, standing close. “Believe me, the pleasure was all mine.”

At that moment she realized how big he was compared to her, and yet how calm and deliberate his moves were, as if he thought she were made of china and might shatter. Somehow the thought bothered her. “I’m not quite sure what we are to each other, but…but, would you like to kiss me goodnight?”

Gus gave her a crooked smile. “Well, let’s see. Would you
like
me to kiss you goodnight?”

She raised her chin. “Well, I…”

“First the hat,” he said, ignoring her hesitation and moving her slowly backward. “It’s all about the hat, you know.” He pulled off her beanie and tossed the cap onto the table before taking both of his large hands and running them through her long, dark locks, spreading them about her shoulders. “Then it’s about your beautiful throat.” As if he had every right in the world, he calmly unbuttoned her jacket and removed it from her shoulders, tossing it on top of her cap. He bent his head to inhale her and nipped her just below her ear. “Then the lips,” he murmured before lowering his mouth to hers. Gently. Softly. After a moment he raised his head.

“I won’t break,” she whispered. She could hear the slightly petulant tone in her voice and wondered if he’d take offense.

She looked up to see a slow smile make its way across his face. He had backed her up to the wall. “Then you’d better hold on,” he said.

Resting one forearm on the wall beside her head and taking her waist in the other, he cocked his head and leaned in to capture her mouth. Not gently. Not softly, but powerfully, as a chieftain might claim his consort, his tongue brooking no disobedience from her. The intensity of his kiss declared passion barely leashed; it demanded an immediate response. Lia moaned and pushed her hands up the front of his shirt, half intending to push him away but changing course midstream and reaching up to twine her fingers around his neck. An explosion of feeling like nothing she had ever experienced engulfed her. She felt the hard planes of his body fit themselves to her soft curves and begin to move, giving her a taste of what he was capable of. One of his hands began its journey from her waist up to the plump underside of her breast. Her breath hitched and he took the kiss deeper, letting her know that he wanted more. So much more.

And much to her chagrin, she might have given it to him right then and there if the knock on her door hadn’t broken the spell so abruptly.

“Lia, where have you been, darling?” Sandy called as he opened the door and entered the living room. Fortunately the door blocked his immediate view of them.

Lia did push then, and Gus stepped away, running his hands through his wind-blown hair and telling her with his eyes that this was not over. “I…I was just saying my good byes to Mr. Wolff,” she said, smoothing her own hair and stepping out so that Sandy could see her.

Sandy looked from one to the other, and from his expression Lia could tell he knew exactly what was going on. Still, he was the soul of propriety. “Ah, Mr. August Wolff, is it? I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure.” He stuck out his hand and Gus shook it, nodding.

“Mr. de Kalb, I take it.”

Sandy smiled jovially. “One and the same. I just came to check on my…cousin…since I hadn’t talked to her all day.” Sandy, blast him, actually seemed to be enjoying the awkward moment his arrival had caused.

Gus looked at Lia for a moment before taking his coat from the table. “Well, it was a very productive day, Miss Starling. I look forward to showing you the space I have in mind for the mural. I’ll be in touch.” He nodded again at Sandy. “Good night, Mr. de Kalb.”

“Good night, sir.”

As soon as Gus left, Lia flopped on the couch, the adrenalin that had surged through her finally beginning to dissipate.

“Oh. My. God.” Sandy gushed, flopping down next to her. “If that isn’t the most exquisite hunk of man this side of the Rockies, I’ll eat my very expensive Bowler hat.”

Lia burst out laughing. How she loved her dear ‘cousin.’ “Well, you can’t have him,” she teased.

“Obviously, more’s the pity. Did you see the way he looked at you? Like you were the main course at his very own private banquet.”

Lia sighed, stretching her arms overhead. “Oh, it was the most wonderful day, Sandy. Gus—”

“‘Gus’, is it?”

Lia stuck her tongue out at him. “Yes,
Gus
took me out to a piece of land he owns across the bay near a town called Little Eden, and oh, it was magnificent. The ocean on one side and a majestic grove of redwoods on the other. He wants to develop the property as a place where people can come and experience the beauty of it.” She scrambled off the sofa to retrieve her sketchbook. “Look. These just scratch the surface. You must come out with me sometime and see for yourself.”

“Um, I have a feeling your Mr. Wolff might think three’s a crowd.”

“Oh no, this is business, really. He wants me to create a mural for his house here in town.”

“Business. Right. If you think that man has only business on his mind, darling, you are blind as a bat.”

Lia blushed. “Oh, Sandy, you know how you feel when you meet someone you sense a real connection with, and…and you’re attracted to them too? I never felt that with George. I’m almost thirty years old and I’ve never felt that with anybody…until now.”

Sandy gathered Lia into his arms and gave her a hug. “My darling girl, it’s about time.”

Lia smiled in his arms. “Yes it surely is.”

“But if he hurts you in any way…”

Lia pulled back to look at her friend. “Oh he will, Sandy. I feel it. Gus is so…well, you’ve seen him. And yet there is so much depth to him. He could have anybody he wanted. Truly.”

“And he would be damn lucky to have you.”

Lia touched Sandy’s cheek. “You are such a good, loyal friend. But I think my eyes are wide open here. Based on the women in his past, I know I won’t be in his sights for long.” She took a deep breath. “Which is why I’ve got to keep my wits about me as much as possible. I can’t let my feelings for him lead me down a dead-end road, as powerful as those feelings might turn out to be.”

Sandy looked at her with skepticism. “And just how are you going to do that?”

“I don’t know,” Lia said with a sigh. “But whatever happens, I don’t expect you to be my champion, much as I appreciate your willingness to be one. Promise me you’ll stay out of it?”

“All right,” he agreed, pursing his lips. He settled back against the sofa with his arm around her. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think I could do much damage anyway. Did you see the arms on that man? I mean, Roger’s are nicely shaped, but your Mr. Wolff’s? Like pile drivers…”

They both tittered, like schoolgirls comparing their handsome young swains.

A half hour later, Lia’s not-so-young swain was cursing a blue streak as he stood under the icy cold shower back in the master bedroom of his Nob Hill mansion. “Whoever said a cold shower cures a hard-on ought to be horsewhipped,” he muttered. “The hell with it.” He turned on the hot water spigot and heaved a sigh of relief as the marginally warmer spray sluiced water over his broad shoulders and muscled chest. He sniffed the bar of soap that Mrs. Coats had placed on the shelf in the shower stall. Some kind of piney scent. At least it didn’t smell flowery like Lia; he would have gone crazy if it had. He scrubbed his arms and legs vigorously and washed his hair for good measure. After drying off and wrapping a towel around his waist, he padded out into his private sitting room and poured himself a Jack Daniel’s neat.

Hell and damnation. He was headed for trouble and that trouble’s name was Lia Starling. He’d wanted her every minute they’d spent over in Marin, not to mention going there and coming back. And when she’d asked him to kiss her—
asked
him, for God’s sake—he thought he’d been given the keys to the city.

It wasn’t just her body, although his need for her was becoming harder to manage. He loved everything about her: talking to her, arguing with her, laughing with her, just
being
with her. Spending time with Lia showed him what an idiot he’d been so many years before. Why had he listened to his prick and not his head? He never should have married Mattie, who was a good woman at heart, just not the woman for him.

But he was paying the price, wasn’t he? Sure he was. Lia was all he needed, but he knew already that he couldn’t be the same for her; she was too good for that. Still, the temptation to take all he could was nearly overwhelming. It was like that time the family mule had kicked Gus hard and broke his leg. The doc said, “Don’t you walk on it for at least six weeks, son.” But would Gus listen? Hell no. He just couldn’t help himself, had to walk on it, even though it hurt like hell every time he did it, and took that much longer to heal. For a while he’d taken to drinking whiskey every night just to dull the pain.

Being with Lia was like that for him. Like a broken leg that wouldn’t mend fast enough. Like a shot of whiskey to dull the pain. Hadn’t he learned anything in the last twenty-plus years?

He finished his drink and flicked off his towel before getting into his large, empty bed. The sheets were cold and his imagination ran to what he and Lia could do together to warm them up. Unfortunately that only brought his cock back to life. Goddamn it. He turned down the lamp on his nightstand and lay there, his hands clasped behind his head. He would take control of the situation. He would. He’d keep their relationship on a professional level. He’d maintain a polite distance. She’d fulfill her commission and they’d part company. He’d move on and so would she. Hell, he was used to making things happen the way he needed them to. Putting the right plan in place had rarely failed him. He hoped to God this would be no different.

His dreams of Lia put the lie to his resolve.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX