Water and Fire (7 page)

I wet my lips. Perhaps it was
the whiskey or perhaps it was a growing respect for the man, but I
answered him honestly, if not completely. "I was pregnant, once,
and my baby was stillborn. I wanted her so much, but she didn't
survive the birth. I thought that if maybe I studied to be a
midwife, I could help other mothers to avoid a similar
tragedy."

Aidan's eyes were big and
round. "What happened to her father?"

I was honest, if evasive. "He
was long gone before my pregnancy was showing. He didn't even know
about her."

"I…I'm sorry," he said softly.
He poured another drink and handed it to me.

I wiped my weeping eyes with
the heel of my hand, not wanting to drip salt water in my whiskey.
I took a deep draught, savouring the burn in my throat. My head was
swimming, all by itself.

A log collapsed in the
fireplace and we both turned to look at the fire, which needed
stoking. I tried to get up, but Aidan was both nearer and faster.
He pushed the last remaining chunk of jarrah into the fire, before
heading outside with the empty iron basket for more fuel.

A few minutes later, he
returned, hefting a large load of wood. He piled the fire up with
pieces of jarrah and unfolded a screen in front of it.

When he stood up, his face was
red and sweaty from his exertions. "Is it warm enough for you in
here?"

A considerable amount of warm
inside air had swirled into the cold night each time he'd opened
the door, so my first thought was to respond in the negative. His
obvious discomfort made me hesitate.

"I should be okay," I replied
after a moment. "Maybe you should take your sweater off so you're
more comfortable."

"My sweater?" Aidan looked
blank. "You mean my jumper? Sure."

He pulled the garment over his
head, the t-shirt underneath coming off with it.

I stared, my mouth wide open
like a whale shark. I'd seen hairy men before, but not a man with
red hair all down his front, from his chest to the waistband of his
jeans. Aidan's fiery chest hair had me mesmerised. I blamed the
whiskey in my blood.

Aidan caught me staring. "Have
you never seen a man with hair on his chest before?" he asked
testily.

I didn't know what to say. "Not
the colour of fire, no," I said finally.

He relented. "Back home in
Ireland, it's supposed to be good luck to rub a man's red hair,
like a leprechaun." He saw my confusion. "A sort of mythical
creature." He took a step closer to me, still shirtless. "Go
on."

I was reluctant to touch the
man at all, let alone his strange chest hair, but the hope of
better luck for the future got the better of me. Besides, I felt I
might offend him if I spurned his offer.

I stretched a hand out, lightly
stroking the wiry orange hair trailing down Aidan's stomach. He
pulled away, doubling over. I drew my hand back.

"That tickles," he apologised.
His expression turned to a broad smile. "Now, your turn."

It took me a moment to
understand what he meant. "But I don't have any chest hair and it
wouldn't be red, even if I did."

Aidan's smile turned cheeky as
he continued. "No chest hair? You expect me to believe that? You
must have some insulation, not to have frozen solid in the wind out
on the boat today."

I shook my head. "None. Even if
I did, it would be too fair to bring you any luck."

I looked away and refilled our
whiskey glasses so I didn't have to look at him. I gulped the
contents of mine down as quickly as I could.

"Go on." Aidan's eyes held a
challenge. He turned his back to me and picked up the poker,
shifting the logs in the fire to burn better.

The man was a doctor. How many
chests had he seen in the course of his profession? What was one
more? I shrugged and pulled my t-shirt off. My frozen fingers had
been too cold to fasten a bra earlier in the day, so my chest was
now as bare as his.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God!"
Aidan's eyes were as round as two puffed-up blowfish.

The poker clattered to the
hearth.

His gave a convulsive shiver
and fixated on my face. "I never thought you'd do it! We work
together. I'll get done for sexual harassment for this. I can't..."
He reached for the fluffy rug and draped it across my
shoulders.

I waited, but he didn't finish
his sentence.

"First you ask me to take my
shirt off, then you panic when I do. And we don't work together any
more." I held his gaze.

Aidan closed his eyes. "What if
I run into you at another hospital in the future? It's bound to
happen one day. I'd never be able to look at you again, without
thinking about…"

He didn't look like he was
going to finish that sentence, either, so I finished it for him.
"Without thinking about my chest hair?" I offered.

His eyes popped open. For a
moment, he looked like he was having trouble controlling his face.
Then he exploded with laughter. "A moment ago, you said you didn't
have any chest hair! Now you tell me you do?"

I spread my arms wide, the
blanket hanging down, like a cormorant drying its wings. "Judge for
yourself. I can't have you wondering about my chest hair when
you're supposed to be working."

Aidan nodded gravely. "Right,
then." He swallowed and his eyes travelled down my body.

Is this what it feels like to
be Vanessa, with men staring at her boobs instead of her face? This
kind of scrutiny unsettles me.

"May I?" Aidan raised his hand,
but not his eyes.

I shrugged.

He touched his fingers to my
collarbone, tracing along my sternum between my breasts to my
stomach.

I held still. "What's your
prognosis?"

Aidan looked me up and down,
meeting my eyes again. "I don't know. You don't have any chest
hair. But you look like a shag on a rock." He started to laugh
again.

"A shag?" I asked cautiously. I
knew only one meaning of his word and I didn't understand the
reference to a rock.

"One of those birds that sit on
a rock and stretch out their wings to dry. Don't you call them
shags?" He looked uneasy.

"You mean a cormorant? You're
comparing me to a cormorant on a rock," I replied carefully.

Aidan swallowed. "Of course.
Nothing else."

I don't
believe you.
"So you didn't just suggest
that I sleep with you."

His voice was firm. "No." He
wavered, judging my expression. "Unless you want to," he said
finally.

I kept my tone level, my
expression giving nothing away. "And if I want to?"

Aidan's resolve crumpled. "I
need another whiskey. Do you want one, too?"

I was thoughtful. "Yes, I
do."

I drifted to the kitchen as
Aidan took his time splashing more whiskey into our glasses. I
drank deeply from the tap, feeling the chill of the night air
through the kitchen window, though the glass was closed. When I'd
drunk my fill, I hurried back to the warmth by the fire.

Aidan held up the whiskey,
glowing gold in the firelight. I crossed the tiles to claim mine.
The floor felt like a heaving sea as the whiskey swirled within me,
but I touched my fingers to Aidan's shoulder to steady myself
before reaching for my drink.

His face split in a wide grin
beneath his ocean-deep eyes. "I think you've had enough. What'll
you give me for it?"

The whiskey must have cost him
a fair bit of money, so it seemed fitting that I paid for my share
of it. I shrugged. "What do you want for it?"

His smile shrank, becoming more
thoughtful. "You could start with a kiss."

I looked into
those yearning, deep-water eyes of a man who seemed all
fire.
It's been a long time, but I think I
still remember how.

I cautiously placed my hands on
the sides of Aidan's face and touched my lips to his. His mouth was
open, so the draught of his breath cooled my lips for the briefest
moment before I pulled away.

"Fuck that!" He strode to the
coffee table and clunked the glasses down. His hands were empty for
barely a moment before they were splayed warmly on my back.
"Belinda. That's not a kiss."

I moved with him as he pulled
me closer, one of his hands travelling up to the back of my neck as
the other drifted down to the small of my back. My nipples
tightened as they touched the fiery hair on his chest, yet I leaned
in closer still.

He bowed his
head as I tilted mine up. I wet my lips and parted them, feeling
fear for the first time.
Perhaps I have
forgotten how to do this. This is a stupid idea.

Aidan pressed his mouth to
mine, layering our lips as we shared a breath. His smiling blue
eyes drooped to show blue-veined lids as his tongue stroked
mine.

I haven't forgotten. This is
new and I'm going to…I'm going to…

His shoulders were smooth
beneath my questing fingers, his lips warm and responsive as I
deepened my kiss. I felt his chuckle rumble through both of us,
though I couldn't see him with my eyes closed. He tasted of whiskey
with a hint of chocolate and I wanted more…

"Now that's a kiss."

I opened my eyes to meet his
triumphant smile, softening even as I watched.

"Wow, Bel. What do I need to do
for another one of those?" Aidan asked, his happiness clear on his
face.

My heart swelled in my chest,
like a froth of bubbles begging to be released. I laughed my
merriment aloud. My smile matched his as I said, "Give me one."

The second
kiss was easier than the first, for my fear and reserve had melted
clear away. Not the whiskey's fire in my blood.
This fire is all mine. And I'm going to enjoy him to the
fullest.

I threw my head back to laugh,
breaking his lip-lock. His chest hair tickled my breasts, inflaming
more laughter.

Aidan looked at me, mystified.
"You're drunk," he guessed.

I shook my head. "Maybe. I
don't know. Now, isn't it my turn?"

His smile returned. "No,
mine."

A slow smile spread across my
face. "If you insist…"

Aidan's hands seemed content to
press me close against him. Mine explored his body – or as much of
it as I could reach – but I kept coming back to stroke the
fascinating fiery hair between us, sprouting between his nipples
and trailing down in a narrowing ribbon to where his jeans started.
My fingers itched to follow the fire-trail to its end, but the hard
denim guarded my way.

I paused
between kisses to catch my breath.
Please
take your pants off so I can stroke you,
I
wanted to ask him, but it seemed such a strange thing to say. I
wasn't sure what his reaction would be, so my fingers stroked as I
fixed my eyes on the offending clothing, wishing I could see
through it.

"Can you blame me?" Aidan
asked.

I looked up in confusion.

"You're beautiful, Bel. And a
pretty fair kisser, as well. Of course you've got me excited."

I shook my head. "I was
thinking that I wanted you to take your pants off." I smiled to
soften my embarrassment, hoping he wouldn't be too shocked.

He gave a snort and jerked his
head at me. "You first."

Without hesitation, I dropped
my pants and kicked them aside. Standing in front of him, wearing
nothing but my knickers, I looked up, a challenge in my gaze. "Now,
your turn."

The fervour of his kiss took me
by surprise, almost as much as the suddenness of the kiss itself.
His fingers wove their way into my hair, sealing our lips together
as if he didn't intend to let me go.

My hands fluttered at first
until they came to rest on his chest, tickled by the tantalising
hair. He wouldn't bare all of it for me. Irritated that I'd done as
he asked and yet he kept his jeans on, I tugged at the button,
framed by a tendril of tempting, rust-coloured hair.

Aidan's laughter was a
vibration between us, but he kept on kissing me as his hands
dropped to help mine. The button slipped from my fingers through
fabric as I heard the sound of the zip. Denim scratched my skin as
his jeans grazed my leg on the way down.

"God, Bel, you're full of
surprises, aren't you?" he murmured, his arms tightening around me
so I could feel his body was as bare as mine. The slide of warm
satin against my belly told me that neither of us was naked yet,
but I thrilled at the thought that we would be soon, with all that
entailed.

His arms around me as if he was
scared I might slip away, Aidan stumbled backwards, pulling me with
him in stuttered steps. A kiss, a step, a stroke of his tongue,
another step, a breath…Aidan stopped as he backed into the sofa,
holding tight to me as he fell slowly onto the seat, breaking my
already soft fall with his body.

His hands caressed me as his
kisses grew more urgent. He circled my nipples with his thumbs,
firm strokes that sent a shiver deep beneath my skin. A sound akin
to a sob escaped from my throat, only to be silenced by yet another
passionate kiss. I wanted…

More than
kisses and somewhere more comfortable, too. Something hard and bony
pressed into my thigh, so I shifted and slid a hand down Aidan's
body to persuade him to shift with me. My fingers touched his
smooth shorts and slid further – to the slit in the front where I
met hot, hard skin crowned with hair.
Oh.

"Hey, you know what we say back
in Ireland, right?" Aidan asked dreamily, his hand closing around
mine so all ten fingers were curled around him. "If you rub a man's
red groin hair, you'll have amazing luck in the bedroom." He helped
me stroke him slowly, once, twice, as if to demonstrate.

I fought it, but I found I
couldn't resist. I burst out laughing and lifted my weight from
him, placing both of my hands on my own thighs.