Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
Mallon waded in. A bird was calling, somewhere in the rushes—a curlew, perhaps. How often he’d closed his eyes in the desert and imagined the sun glinting on this very lake, the russet of the hillsides and the low hum of insects. He’d always come here when he’d wanted to be alone. The hall might not have existed, hidden from view.
He thought back to the night on the train. He’d been wound tight, and a woman had been exactly what he’d needed. Just thinking of it made him ache. Not a single evening had passed without him recalling the encounter.
She’d certainly earned the money he’d left on the banquette.
Thigh deep, he encircled his girth, squeezing, but it was impossible for him to replicate the sensation of her mouth.
Damn and damn!
There was only one thing for it. Swiftly, he ducked his shoulders under, then his head, rising with a gasp and more cursing. He swam further out, concentrating on propelling himself forward.
Yet, he was thinking of her still, astride his lap, warm and inviting. She’d had a mole, beside her nipple, the contours of which he’d traced with his tongue as she moved her hips to take him deeper.
Reaching the shallows again, he stood, finding his footing in the mud, the water lapping beneath his arse. He needed release.
Fisting himself, he stroked upward. Despite the water’s coolness, he was burning hot, thinking of her as he pleasured himself.
With a final effort, Mallon groaned with satisfaction.
Dark hair, dripping wet, his body tanned.
She took in the muscles through his arms and back. A fine specimen of man, splendidly proportioned, with buttocks a woman would enjoy caressing. Arms strong enough to carry her, pinning her beneath that masculine hardness.
He was standing, turned half away from her, the rhythm of his strokes unmistakable.
A laborer, she assumed, used to working in the sun, though what had possessed him to strip naked and take a dip she couldn’t imagine. December warmth was hardly the same as that of summer.
With a jerk, he arched back and moaned.
It made her smile. His body was delicious, and the lakeside secluded enough for a rendezvous.
Not that she would, or could…
Even she had her limits!
She looked up, wanting to see his face, now that she’d had time to appreciate the rest of him.
The realization came to her like a punch in the stomach. She would know that jaw anywhere, although it was now clean shaven. His hair had also been groomed, no longer curling so wildly but long enough to tumble from his forehead. His nose was straight and his eyes a piercing green.
If there was any doubt in her mind, it was dispelled by the raised scar upon his right shoulder. Her own hands had touched such a wound, her mouth had kissed the puckered flesh. She’d unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it aside, pleading with him as he’d teased her.
A flush of heat rushed through her belly.
That man.
Her stranger.
And he was here.
Lightheaded with fear, she crouched low, making her escape upon hands and knees.