Lantern Lake (4 page)

There was something in her voice, some heavy meaning too vague for Cooper to grasp, and before he could ask about it, Vivian clutched his arm in excitement.

“We’re here! Slow down, this is a good view of the property.”

The Ferrari growled its way out of the woods at the top of a small hill, the beams of its headlights reflecting off the mirrored surface of a secluded lake. Set against the meandering shore, amongst the reed grass and cattails, was a small clapboard cottage. Warm golden light spilled from the lamps on either side of the door, like a beacon calling them home through the darkness.

Shaking his head at his own ridiculousness, Cooper caught sight of Vivian out of the corner of his eye. Face lit by a soft smile, her midnight eyes seemed to reflect the twinkle of the stars over the lake. She looked more like the girl of his memories now than she had all evening.

“Beautiful,” he told her, eyes never leaving her face.

“Isn’t it?” She sighed, her gaze roaming almost hungrily over the tiny homestead spread out at the foot of the hill. “The minute I saw it, I knew I had to have it.”

Forcing himself to look back at the property, Cooper acknowledged the magnetic attraction of the place. Even with the epic distraction of the woman next to him, he could feel the familiar tug of interest, the spark of desire to explore. He wanted to hike around the lake, climb a tree and see the view from up there, poke through the little, old cabin and get a sense of the people who’d lived there before.

Maybe he’d even get a sense of the woman who lived there now, he reflected, carefully navigating the end of the drive and parking in front of the porch. As clear and vivid as his memories of Vivian Banks had always remained, he had to admit she was more or less a mystery to him now.

Heart thumping with all the anticipation of an undiscovered country, Cooper followed Vivian up the rickety porch steps. He barely noticed the peeling paint on the doorframe and the sad creak of rusty hinges before Vivian shut the door behind them and Cooper made his move.

With a low sound of need, he pinned her against her own front door, caging her in with his larger body. Cooper stared down at her, blood rushing fast and furious in his veins and throbbing between his legs. Vivian blinked up at him, her irises a slim purple band around pupils wide with shock or desire. Or a combination of the two.

“Don’t you want to see the house?” Her voice was a husky whisper in the dark, like velvet stroking his skin.

“I’ve got everything I want right here,” Cooper said, with a deliberate grind of his hips that made her gasp. He ignored how right the words felt, how true they seemed, in favor of dipping his head for a deep, persuasive kiss.

But he didn’t need to do much persuading. Vivian met him heat for heat, bite for bite, moan for moan. The fire between them seemed never to have gone out—it had only been banked, live red coals waiting for a spark to flare into the kind of scorching heat Cooper thought he could die from.

When Vivian clutched at his shoulders and twined one lithe leg around his, Cooper groaned and got his hands under her hips. He lifted her up until she locked her ankles behind his back and the force of his body pressed her into the door. She curled her arms around him and buried her face in his neck as he tunneled his hands under the filmy material of her bridesmaid dress.

Vivian had never liked wearing tight, confining pantyhose, even in the dead of a New York winter—and, in that, at least, she hadn’t changed. With a growl of appreciation, Cooper got his hands directly on the smooth, heated silk of her bare skin.

He ached to be inside her, to experience the tight clasp of her body and the surging waves of her response. In the past, he never would have taken her this way, rough and ready and up against a wall—but he’d been young, then. Young, trusting, and innocent enough to want to cherish every breath Vivian Banks took.

Older now, more experienced and more confident, Cooper was no stranger to the quick and dirty encounter. He knew exactly how satisfying it could be, how much pleasure he could give a woman in this position.

But some tiny corner of him, some remnant of the romantic idiot he used to be, forced him to ask, “Is this okay with you?”

The look she flashed him made everything in his body tighten. “Everything. Anything. Just don’t stop.”

***

Maybe it was greedy. Maybe it was shortsighted. Maybe Vivian was the worst kind of fool—but she couldn’t bring herself to believe she’d ever regret stealing one last night of passion with the only man she’d ever loved. Even knowing he didn’t love her back, and never would again.

And somehow, the knowledge that it was the last time freed her up to be as brave and adventurous as she’d been as a girl, before the reality of her life taught her to keep her head down and do her best to be invisible. When Cooper stared deep into her eyes, she knew he saw her. And instead of feeling exposed or vulnerable, Vivian reveled in it. She was alive, with Cooper Hayes’s superheated, muscular body keeping her pinned to the front door like a butterfly on a card, and when he moved his hips like that…

Vivian shuddered, her eyes fluttering closed as black starbursts exploded across her vision. Her body, which she hadn’t thought twice about in years, came to shivering, gasping life in Cooper’s arms. Yes, she thought in dazed answer to Cooper’s question—this was entirely okay. Okay didn’t come close to covering it.

The first time against the door didn’t last long. It couldn’t. They were too hungry, starved for each other. The second time, on the stairs up to the small, single bedroom, was full of laughter and cursing as they fumbled for balance and leverage against the hardwood risers and railing. By the time they finally fell into her bed, the soft, clean cotton sheets were a cool and welcome relief against their fevered skin. Vivian pulled Cooper down until his body covered hers, a wall of muscle and bone keeping the future at bay. She turned her head far enough to peer through the gauzy white curtains at the subtle violet shade of the lightening sky. Dawn was coming.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Vivian craned her neck to press her kiss-swollen lips to Cooper’s.

“You’re not too tired?” His low voice rasped over her nerves, making her shiver.

“One more time,” she replied, and he met her lips with a deep groan of need.

The third time was slow, every touch and caress whispering over Vivian’s sensitive skin. With moans and sighs, she urged him to hurry, to give her what she needed, but Cooper rose over her on his strong arms and stared down implacably. His eyes burned with determination, iron control hardening his jaw, and Vivian knew he intended to take her apart piece by piece. Surrendering to it, she tilted her head back and rode the waves of sensation until she broke on the rocks, shattered and completely undone.

Finally sated, Cooper collapsed beside her and fell asleep instantly. She forced her heavy eyes to stay open for a long moment, long enough to trace every line of Cooper’s face. Men were supposed to look softer, more boyish in sleep, she thought drowsily. But Cooper didn’t. Even the slackness of sleep couldn’t erase the hardness from his face. He’d changed.

Well, so had she. She was stronger now, in some ways—and honest enough with herself to admit she was a total mess in other ways.

And as she drifted off to sleep, Vivian was aware of a sharp pain in her chest at the knowledge that they’d never have the chance to get to know one another as they were now. Because she couldn’t afford the distraction while she worked toward her independence…and because Cooper didn’t care to know more than her body.

Too bad accepting that she deserved this pain didn’t seem to lessen it at all.

As usual, Cooper came awake in a rush of total awareness of his surroundings. He’d worked hard to overcome waking disoriented—the occupational hazard of world exploration. No matter where he was, from a hut in the Andes to a villa in St. Moritz, Cooper had trained his brain to keep track. He hated being off balance when he opened his eyes, so before sleep, he fixed an image of his current location in his mind’s eye…but last night, he’d had other things on his mind.

Those other things came back to him in a rush of awareness of the slender, naked, feminine body curled warm and close beneath sheets soft from repeated washing. Vivian. The memories of the night before crashed over him and headed straight for his morning erection. He wished he could be surprised that last night’s marathon sex hadn’t gotten this woman out of his head, but he wasn’t. There was something about Vivian that hooked him, drawing him to her like an addict to a bottle of bourbon.

And what advice would he give a friend trying to kick an addiction? Cold turkey, baby.

Just as he was trying to get up the energy to haul his ass out of the warm bed and into the frigid morning air of the bedroom, Vivian stirred beside him and made a soft smacking sound with her lips. Cooper couldn’t help but grin. She’d always been a cute sleeper. Back in the dorms, he used to wake her every morning by raining kisses over her forehead, cheeks, closed eyelids…she’d furrow her dark brows in confusion, and he’d kiss the sleepy frown away.

He shifted uneasily, trying to avoid the swell of tenderness the memory evoked. The sheets slid over his skin, and for the first time, he saw the room in the light of day. The bed was an old four-poster, obviously solidly made since it had withstood their combined efforts to break the thing the night before, but enough scars and nicks marred the gleaming cherrywood headboard to tell him the bed wasn’t new. But it wasn’t an antique, either, the kind the Banks family had used to decorate their ancestral pile in Westchester County, outside New York. And the sheets…they were frayed at the edges, faded and worn. Cooper, who’d slept on some high-thread-count Egyptian cotton in his day, could tell that these weren’t that fancy. He frowned a little as he ran his hand across the surface of the covers draped over his hips. Why wouldn’t Vivian Banks have the very best?

The mystery of how she’d spent the last ten years tugged at Cooper, but he shoved it away. So Vivian was living more simply than she’d been brought up, or than she would have with the rich society guy she’d married. Even the super wealthy liked to take a vacation from their lives and rough it, now and then.

But as he took in the rest of the room, Cooper felt his eyebrows climbing toward his hairline. The curtains at the window were tatty and full of holes, as if moths had gotten at them. The scratched hardwood floor was covered by an old, stained hooked rug in faded reds and blues, and the ceiling sagged in one corner with a worrying crack running down the plaster wall beside the window. The window’s panes sparkled, though, the rising sun beaming through the polished glass. So she’d been here long enough to hire a cleaning lady, he assumed.

Stop it, he ordered himself, pushing down the covers and sliding from the bed to find his clothes. He cursed silently when he realized they were all downstairs—or, more likely, scattered along the stairs themselves, marking the path they’d taken from the front door to the bedroom like a trail of breadcrumbs. A gust of frigid air whistled through a crack in the window frame, chilling him completely. Cooper paused for a long heartbeat, staring down at the warm, cozy nest of the bed. Vivian’s black hair tumbled across the pillow, a tendril curling loosely around her bare breast. All Cooper wanted was to reach down and feel the texture of that saucy curl, then climb back in bed and wake her up with a kiss.

But that wasn’t the plan, he reminded himself. Come on, bud. Cold turkey, let’s go.

Putting one foot in front of the other, Cooper made it all the way to the door. Unable to resist, he took one last look over his shoulder at the woman he’d once loved more than his own life…and encountered the vivid indigo of her eyes blinking drowsily back at him.

“Are you leaving?”

He froze, caught out, but anger rescued him. This was his revenge, to seduce her and leave her flat. He’d earned this moment with years of pain and bitterness, and he’d be damned if she made him feel guilty about it. Proud of the cool dispassion of his tone, Cooper said, “It’s been fun, but I’ve got things to do. Places to be. You know how it is.”

The flash of pain before she lowered her lashes was exactly what he’d expected to see, but it didn’t give him the satisfaction he’d hoped for. Despair and fury collided in his chest like Godzilla and Mothra. But before he could do more than suck in a breath to lash out, she lifted her gaze to him. Carefully open and free of accusation, Vivian tugged the sheets up to her chest with innate dignity. “Okay. Thank you for a nice evening.”

She could’ve been in her mother’s tastefully decorated parlor, politely saying farewell to one of her parents’ pre-approved dates. Fury achieved a sudden advantage over despair, sweeping through Cooper with an intensity he’d never experienced. He’d come here to repay Vivian for the hurt she’d dealt out, not to feel guilty for hurting her.

“That’s it?” he demanded, putting his hands on his hips, careless of his nudity. “Thanks, and see you around?”

“Well.” Vivian’s eyes dropped. “I don’t imagine I’ll be seeing you again anytime soon, but yes. Essentially.”

Galled past the point of self-control, Cooper stalked back over to the bed and stared down at her. “Last night was better than ‘nice.’ Admit it.”

A hot rush of blood to her cheeks chased away the remnants of sleep. “What do you want me to say?”

Kneeling on the bed, Cooper loomed over her, fascinated by the way she melted into the mattress, as if she couldn’t help herself from yielding to him. “I want to hear that you never had it so good. Come on. Tell me it was ever once that good between you and your husband.”

Vivian stiffened. “Ex-husband,” she reminded him tartly. “And he’s got nothing to do with this. Don’t be gross.”

He shrugged, straddling her thighs and trapping her under the tight sheet. “So I want to know the man you ditched me for was a loser in bed. Sue me, I’m human.”

If he hadn’t been scrutinizing her face, studying every minute shift and tightening of muscle, he would have missed the brief flare of intense emotion before she dropped her lashes once more.