Caprice (15 page)

disgustingly wet.' Long fingers drew the damp length aside, and she

felt his lips behind her ear. 'You wouldn't stand me up if I invited you

to breakfast, would you?'

'Not this time.' The feel of his warm lips against the chilled skin of

her neck, pulled thin over the bone of her skull, sent a shiver rippling

over her body, and she crossed her arms.

'That's not an entirely satisfactory answer,' he replied drily, as he let

her go and stepped back. 'But it'll have to do for now. Liz has

everything in the dining room, ready when you are.'

They went in to the hot, freshly cooked meal, chairs pulled close

together. Caprice picked at her toast and egg thoughtfully, fully

aware of his side glances from time to time, and those dark,

observing eyes. She pulled a piece of toast apart, and popped a bit in

her mouth. After she had swallowed, she said, 'You said something

last night about preferring to go to the lodge on weekends, instead of

visiting family down here?'

'That's right. I don't have a lot in common with my family, aside from

business, of course.'

She sent him a quick, searching look, at which he smiled. 'Oh, there's

nothing like strained relations between us, though that may change as

soon as Jeffrey knows I'm seeing you.'

'I've given him no reason to hope,' she informed him, rather

caustically. 'It's his own foolishness.' Pierce's expression turned dry,

and she said then, contritely, 'I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.'

'Good God, why not?' He reached for his coffee cup, long fingers on

a slim, yet powerful, hand with slight, dark hairs silken on his wrist.

'It's certainly true enough. But I do happen to find it quite

understandable.'

For a moment, she didn't comprehend, and when she did, she had to

turn her head rather sharply away. After finding her voice, she said

quietly, 'You're no fool.'

'That remains to be seen.' A soft thread of sound, his reply.

She groped for a switch in conversation, and fell back on their

previous subject. 'So you don't have much in common with your

family?'

'They're quite status conscious. Climbing high on the social ladder

means a great deal to them, whereas I consider it to be a waste of

time,' he explained simply. There was no censure, or contempt in his

voice, just a mere statement of fact.

'My mother's like that,' she said, and brooded into her coffee with an

out-thrust lower lip.

'And you?' The query was light.

She looked up quickly, and stared at his guarded expression. 'I've

never thought that considering myself better than someone else

would be very admirable. I guess I don't have enough self-esteem or

arrogance.'

He reached out a careless hand and tucked a still-damp tendril of hair

behind her ear. 'I think I'm liking you more and more,' he told her, in

tones of such surprise that she laughed aloud, in spite of herself.

When they had finished, popped into the kitchen very quickly to give

Liz their thanks, and shrugged on their coats, Pierce turned to her and

asked, 'So, what should we do today?'

She looked considerably startled, and had to grope for an answer. 'I

don't know. You didn't have anything planned?'

'I meant to think of something last night, but I fell asleep,' he

mourned, eyes sparkling.

She ducked her head and looked at the points of her boots. 'I'd

suggest a drive to the coast, but I did that yesterday. Of course, I

didn't actually go to the beaches, but I did drive in that direction.'

'How about taking a drive to the mountains today, then?' he asked,

opening the front door. At the gust of chilly wind that touched her

cheeks and still damp hair, she was glad to have dressed so warmly.

She threw a smile over her shoulder at him. 'That sounds wonderful.'

It didn't. It sounded OK. It even sounded nice. But what she found

wonderful was the fact that she had the entire day ahead of her, and

she was spending it with this man. And anything could happen

tomorrow. Two whole days, a weekend, an eternity when there was

nothing to look forward to. Two days without work, or obligations,

for either of them. She savoured the thought.

He slammed the front door behind them, and put his hand, light and

attentive, at her back as they strode for the Jaguar. She was pulsingly,

excitingly aware of his presence beside her, so close, if she were to

turn her head and look. But she didn't, and as she rounded the rear of

the car his hand fell away. If she'd paused to think of it, she would

have assumed that he was simply moving to the driver's side, but that

thought was never carried to fruition. His hand, which had left her

back, clasped her slim wrist, and as she took that one step away from

him, he laughed and yanked her back.

Her whole body was whirled around, and she fell against his chest.

Surprise thudded through her and immobilised her limbs for the time

it took him to wrap his arms around her tightly. Then her head jerked

back, and her mouth opened in a question that was never spoken. His

black hair was wind-tousled, his face creased with the lines of a

wicked grin, his eyes dancing with gleeful purpose. He bent his head.

And kissed her, but it didn't seem as simple as that. Oh, no, it wasn't

simple at all, the way he fastened those hungry, hard lips over hers

and moved them until she slanted her head sideways and kissed him

back. There was a world of complexity in the range of sensations

inspired by that kiss, the cold of his lips, the warm cavity within, his

piercing, probing tongue, his obvious, delighted excitement.

Something sounded, deep in the back of her throat, and her knees

went lax. Her bones were nothing but pure putty, her arms captured

against his chest, her head falling back. He lifted his head, and ran his

glittering gaze over her flushed face.

She swallowed, blinking rapidly as she realised that her devastation

must be written all over her face. Why so enthusiastically this

morning, when last night he would barely touch her? She cleared her

throat, and thought that for pride's sake she might try saying

something witty and intelligent, so that he could see she was still in

control of herself. 'Well,' she said, and the word was faint.

'I wanted to do 'that last night,' he said, cocking his head as his eyes

fell to her rose-flushed lips. 'But hated to think what your mother

would imagine if she'd walked into the hall and saw us.'

'Oh!' was her startled reply. Then, strongly, 'Good God!'

'My sentiments exactly.' He loosed her slowly, almost reluctantly.

'Now that we have that out of the way, are you ready to go?'

She sent a sharp look his way, and found him smiling as though he

were in love with the world. It sent a thrill running through her. 'I

think so,' she said sedately.

After settling into the luxurious car, they drove north and east, to the

Shenandoah National Park in the Blue Ridge. There they found a

place to park, and wandered in relative quiet. He reached for, and

received, her hand as they trudged along a well-beaten trail. The

mountains, which had risen ahead of them like an incredibly huge

giant, were heavy with a grey mantle of mist, obscuring places along

the mountaintops. The only splashes of truly vivid colour were the

wild flowers scattered plentifully as though chucked in great handfuls

by the brooding giant.

They didn't meet anyone on the trail, though it was obviously well

used, and perhaps the explanation for that was the continuingly

greying sky, and the heavy, warning quality to the air. After having

strolled in some silence, she was startled to hear him speak. 'You do

realise that, if we stay out for much longer, we're liable to get wet.'

She glanced at his jacket and then at her own. Both were made of a

water repellent material which nevertheless wouldn't manage to keep

them completely dry. She looked about her, reluctant to give up the

peaceful intimacy. 'I don't care, if you don't.'

He slanted his head sideways and squinted at the sky, and told her, 'I

don't make any promises.' As she smiled, he laid his arm firmly along

her shoulders, and drew her against his side, and they continued that

way for some time .

But the weather was against them, and Caprice was beginning to feel

tired after a while, anyway. Large splashes of water on their heads

and shoulders convinced them that nature was not bluffing this time,

and finally Pierce slowed to a halt, and turned her around. 'Time to

head back,' he said down to her, with a sigh. 'I'm afraid we'll probably

end up quite wet anyway, since we've got some way to go. We stayed

too long.'

Her eyes clung to his, dark violet and deep centred black. She shook

her head and smiled faintly. 'No, we didn't.'

He drew in a breath, and stepped close, his eyelids falling heavy and

his head coming down sideways. She put her arms around his neck,

willingly, and raised her lips to his. Gentleness; leisurely, sensual

gentleness building a slow mounting blaze that no amount of rain

could put out. Cold cutting wind, failing to slip between their flush,

straining bodies. With her head raised and eyes shut against the softly

falling rain, she was conscious only of his warmth and his nearness,

his caressing mouth, while blind wetness flattened her hair to her

head and made her face slippery. She raised a hand to his cheek,

resting cold fingers against that lean skin and muscle, feeling the

small rivulet of water which ran from his temple, down to his neck.

He lifted back his head slightly and stared down at her with widened

dark eyes. Both his hands came to her face, stroking at her with

fingers as wet as heir face, brushing the light sodden hair from her

forehead with a tenderness that made her catch her breath. She stared

back, holding herself still for fear of breaking the spell of the

moment, long lashes spiked with the rain.

He ran his eyes over her expression time and time again. 'We're

crazy,' he muttered, the words sounding dazed. 'We're getting soaked.

Come on, before-one of us catches pneumonia.'

She placed her hand in the one he offered to her, and trudged along

beside him. 'You don't usually catch pneumonia, unless you're

exposed to a virus.'

'All right, all right.' His expression had changed, was normal, teasing.

'A very bad cold, then.'

'Ugh, now you're talking.'

Even hurrying, they were a good twenty minutes from the car, and

when they reached it, she dithered beside the open passenger door

which he held impatiently for her, mourning the damage she might

do to the upholstery until, with an exasperated glare, he bundled her

in so fast her head spun. 'For heaven's sake, it's a car, isn't it?' was his

retort to her complaint.

They sat for some time, the heater running full blast, and talked of

light, inconsequential things. He played with her fingers, now warm

and nearly dry. To his quiet questions, she found herself telling him

all about Ricky's scrapes, her college days at Vassar, anything that

came to mind. He was an attentive listener, flatteringly so, for he was

quite intent, asking her searching, leading questions which drew from

her explanations about herself that she'd once thought no one was

interested in.

'What a strange, complex, contradictory character you are,' he said

after a while, in such a way that she was quite touched. It was said

with understanding and tolerance, and held a wealth of affection

running as a strong underthread. The wet streams of water running

off the car's exterior gave them a private intimacy, warm, cosy.

Self-consciousness made her say, laughingly, 'We've talked a lot

about me, but I want to talk about you.'

'Warm enough?' He let go of her hand and raised the back of his hand

to her cheek, a lazy caress which sent her eyes to glowing.

'Fine, thanks.'

'Then why don't we get back? You can take a long, hot bath, and I

can go home to shower and change. Would you like to eat out?'

His head was back against the seat, showing his lean face and throat

in sharp profile, the black hair still wet and clinging to the shape of

his skull. The one brow she could see slashed strongly diagonal. She

thought she could gaze at him forever. 'That sounds nice,' she

murmured, and yawned from the heat in the car. 'Whatever you like.'