Chapter Thirteen
THIRTEEN
LITTLE Desire cottage wasn’t much of a detour on the way back to Sanctuary. In any case, Jo thought, scrambling to justify it, the walk would do her good.
Maybe she wanted to take some afternoon shots of the river, see how many more wildflowers had bloomed. And since she’d be walking by, it would be rude not to at least stop in.
Besides, it was family property.
She even worked out a little just-passing-by excuse, did some mental rehearsing to perfect just the right casual tone. So it was quite a letdown to get to the cottage and see that Nathan’s Jeep was gone.
She stood at the base of the stairs a moment, debating, then quickly mounted them before she could change her mind.
There was nothing wrong with slipping in, just for a second, leaving a note.
It wasn’t as if she would disturb anything or poke around.
She just wanted to—Damn it, his door was locked.
It was another minor jolt. People on Desire rarely locked their doors. Too curious now to worry about manners, she pressed her face to the glass panel and peered in.
On the long table that served the kitchen area sat a compact laptop computer, frustratingly and neatly closed.
A streamlined printer stood beside it. Long tubes that she assumed held blueprints were stacked nearby.
One large square of paper was unrolled and anchored at the corners with a jar of instant coffee, an ashtray, and two mugs.
But no matter how she shifted or angled her head, she couldn’t make out what was printed on it.
None of my business anyway, she reminded herself, straining to see.
At a crash of leaves behind her she stepped back quickly, looked over her shoulder.
A wild turkey cut loose with its quick, gobbling call and lumbered into flight.
With a roll of her eyes, Jo patted her skipping heart.
It would be perfect if Nathan himself strolled out of the trees and caught her spying into his house.
She reminded herself that she had dozens of things she could do, dozens of places she could go. It wasn’t as though she’d gone out of her way to see him. By much.
It was probably best that she’d missed him, she told herself, as she jogged back down the stairs and headed home. Taking the Palmetto Trail, she followed the bend of the river into the thick shade where muscadine vines and resurrection ferns turned forest to verdant jungle.
She didn’t need the kind of distraction, the kind of complication that Nathan Delaney was bound to bring to her life just now. She was just getting back on her feet.
If she pursued a relationship with him, she’d have to tell him about ... things. And if she told him, that would be the end of the relationship. Who wanted to get tangled up with a crazy woman on their vacation?
The path twisted, crowded in by the saw palmettos that gave it its name. She heard the turkey call again, and the long, liquid notes of a warbler. Her camera bag thudded at her hip as she quickened her pace and argued with herself.
So, by not starting anything, she was just saving them both time and embarrassment.
Why the hell hadn’t he been home?
“Ssh.” Giff put a hand over Lexy’s mouth when he heard footsteps coming along the path near the clearing that was guarded by thick oak limbs and cabbage palms. “Someone’s passing by,” he whispered.
“Oh.” In a lightning move, Lexy grabbed her discarded blouse and pressed it to her breasts. “I thought you said Nathan had gone over to the mainland for the day.”
“He did. I passed him on his way to the ferry.”
“Then who—oh.” Lexy snickered as she peeked through palm fronds. “It’s just Jo. Looking annoyed with the world, as usual.”
“Quiet.” Giff ducked Lexy’s head down with his. “I’d just as soon your sister not catch me with my pants down.”
“But you’ve got such a nice ...” She made a grab for him, and muffling giggles, they tussled until Jo passed out of sight.
“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.”