The Amber Stone (8 page)

“You’re early!” she cried, backing away from his grasp.

“So are you.”

She struck the water with the flat of her hand, splashing his face. “I can’t believe you let me touch you like that without saying anything!”

He shrugged, wiping the water from his eyes. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

She covered her face with her hands. Just when she thought it couldn’t get more awkward, it did. To think she had been touching him intimately and enjoying it! This had to be a nightmare, there was no other explanation. She would open her eyes and be in bed.

She peeked through her fingers and saw Sean arrogantly smiling at her. She groaned, she would just pretend it didn’t happen. She let her hands fall to her side, lifted her chin and turned away; he grabbed her arm. “Why don’t you finish what you started?” he challenged.

His eyes teased and baited her like a boy who’d asked his best friend to do something he was certain he wouldn’t do; Teresa was up for the challenge, eager to remove that expression from his face. She narrowed her eyes in deliberation. “All right.”

She didn’t touch his chest first, she surprised him by curling her fingers over his left ear and massaging it. Sean took a deep breath, trying to combat the amazingly sensuous feel of her fingers there. Slowly her fingers left a caressing trail down his neck to the center of his chest. She watched him—his eyes darkened with fire as her hand continued their descent.

She smiled coyly. He captured her hand before it went too far.

“You don’t want to do that,” he warned in a gruff tone.

Her heart thumped uncomfortably. “I don’t?”

“No.”

“How about this?” She touched the curve of his neck.

“Only if I can do this.” His hand rested in the space between her breasts and slowly drew little circles there.

Teresa caught her breath, heat emanating from where his fingers had been. “Fine, if I can do this.” She wet her forefinger then let it trail the outside of his lips. He had beautiful lips, full and soft.

“You’re in over your head,” he grumbled, annoyed with the hoarse quality of his voice.

She tugged on one of the curls plastered against his forehead and twirled it around her finger. “No,” she whispered. “You are.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him fully on the mouth. Since his mouth had been partly opened she delved into it completely, learning the intricacies of it from the moment of impact. She didn’t know what she was doing, though it felt good and wanted to stop before she embarrassed herself, but Sean kept her in his arms, making this kiss his own—the captive became the captor. His kisses sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl. His hands held her close and she could feel his erection pressed against her like an uncoiled snake. She wrapped her legs around him; the movement pleased him and he emitted a low groan. They kissed until they had to pull away for air. They stared at each other—his hazel eyes clashing with her brown ones—full of a wonder and desire neither could fathom, trying to understand what had occurred, why their emotions had gotten the better of them and what it meant.

He turned and swam for the shore.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Teresa said, following him.

He ignored her and toweled himself dry.

“It means—”

“You know you’re becoming a bleeding nuisance,” he said.

She smiled, unbothered by his tone. “Oh my virgin ears, such language.”

“How can a man enjoy his solitude with you crashing in it all the time?”

“I’ve been coming down here longer than you have,” she said. “Besides I’m not bothering you.”

“Your eyes bother me.”

She shrugged. “Well, I can’t help that.”

He folded his arms, Teresa watched, fascinated, as his shoulders widened. He had a magnificent body that the chilly wind seemed to ignore. “Listen here, Trina.”

She frowned, her good humor leaving her. “Teresa.”

“Sorry—”

“That’s all right Sam.”

He flinched, but nodded. “I deserved that. Listen, I like to be left alone. What just happened was fun, but it didn’t mean anything.”

She lifted her chin. “Yes, it does.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “What do you want?”

“A chance to get to know you better.”

“That’s not going to happen. What else?”

“I thought maybe you could use a friend.”

“I’m fine,” he said, turning.

“I know you’re hurting. Give me a chance to help you.”

His gaze sharpened. “What do you know? Are you trying to threaten me?”

“Threaten you?” she repeated alarmed by his assumption. “No. Why would I do that? I said I wanted to—”

He held up a finger. “I’m not letting you do this to me. I don’t care how beautiful and tempting you are—stay away from me.”

Beautiful? Tempting?
No man had ever said that to her before and she knew they weren’t true. And upon hearing those words a part of her died that day. His words shrouded her in a cloak of misery. She hadn’t expected him to care or even like her, but his callous, sarcastic description ripped bare all her secret fears. That no man would want her, that she was too strange. He had said those words knowing she was the exact opposite.

Tears stung her eyes as she glared at him, but she wasn’t ashamed of them. She didn’t care if he knew how much he’d hurt her. “From the first moment I saw you, I wanted to be the salve that healed your pain. I know I’m not much to look at and I’m sure you have your pick of companions, but I just wanted to be your friend. I thought you were different.” She glanced at the necklace on his chest. “I was fooled. Thank you for proving me wrong. I will leave you alone and let you have your precious peace and I hope you drown in it.” She turned and walked to where her sisters were waiting for her.

Teresa glared at them. “You could have warned me he was here,” she said, as she snatched a towel out of Jessie’s grasp.

“We didn’t even see him,” Jessie said, defensive. “You know we would have warned you.”

Her teeth began to chatter, she wasn’t sure if it was the cold or because she was so angry. “You didn’t see him at all? He just magically appeared in the water?”

“We were too busy watching you,” Michelle said. “You looked like you were having a lot of fun.”

“Were you really kissing him or was that our imagination?” Jessie asked.

Teresa wiped her legs dry. “It was nothing.”

Michelle glanced at her watch. “It was about five minutes of nothing.”

She stopped and stared. “You’re joking.”

Both sisters shook their heads.

Teresa placed a hand against her forehead. “I don’t know what came over me.” She bunched up her towel. “He just made me so angry.”

“Then I hope he doesn’t make you furious,” Michelle said. “You could get into a lot of trouble.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve satisfied my curiosity. I’ll never come back here, especially knowing that he might show up.”

Jessie stared out at him, he was contently swimming and quickly becoming a dot on the horizon.“It was sort of odd how he just appeared though,” she said. “Like a ghost.”

“Don’t you start,” Michelle ordered. She handed Teresa her clothes. “Come on, let’s go. This fantasy is over.”

***

Sean watched the three women leave, anger heavy on his chest, for a moment wondering what had just happened. He felt as though he had stepped out into a drizzling rainfall only to find out that it was actually a hurricane. She had aptly cut him down to size, for a moment making him feel as big as a beetle and he hadn’t even done anything!

He just wanted to be left alone, but she’d attacked his character, scratching at the hard surface he’d carefully surrounded himself with.

He could feel hot blood rushing through his veins. Odd, that hadn’t happened in a long time, he hadn’t felt a strong emotion like anger since Renee.

Was it wrong to be honest? He hadn’t expected her to be the kind of woman who got angry at not making a conquest. But he’d been wrong about beautiful women before.

He shouldn’t have kissed her. What had come over him? Why had he kissed her? It was fun at first, but then his hands started to take over and he couldn’t pull away. He was attracted to her like a magnet.

He turned towards the water, a strange emptiness touching his heart. It was a new emotion so he didn’t analyze it much. Teresa Clifton was a nuisance. He didn’t want to think about her, he didn’t want to care about her or feel anything, but her tears surprised him. She genuinely looked hurt. He’d just meant to tease her.

When he saw her spinning around in the water like a mermaid, his plan was to come up behind her and scare her, making her feel flustered and awkward as he had in the past. He didn’t know what made him stand still, what made him watch her like a scientist would a rare fish—with intent, admiration and studied detachment. When she bumped into him, he meant to speak but he didn’t—couldn’t somehow. Then she began to touch him, awakening feelings he had kept hidden for a long time. Her fingers weren’t soft as he had expected, she had working hands, which made him wonder more about her. What woman, who wore expensive coats, had such rough hands?

Surprisingly, the calluses felt good against his skin. They were both rough and gentle at the same time. Unexpectedly, his hands seemed to work on their own, circling her waist as if they were always meant to be there. She was round, with enough solid curves to make a man thank God. He was about to get himself into serious trouble when she opened her eyes. It was evident that she was not happy to see him and that had delighted him. He’d challenged her again, expecting her to give him one of her passionate lectures, but again she surprised him. When her eyes narrowed, his pulse quickened like a boxer preparing for a fight. He knew he was in danger when she began to touch him again. It took all his effort not to pull her to him and raise the ante of their little game. Then she kissed him—a simple drug-inducing kiss that surprised them both with its potency. He licked his lips as if remembering a fine meal. She tasted good. No, more than good. Right…perfect.

He swore and jumped back into the water, splashed his face, shaking his head. What was wrong with him? He wasn’t interested in her. He wasn’t interested in anyone. He didn’t have the luxury.

He came out of the water, sat on a rock and toweled himself dry. Mist came up to greet him, meowing, her green eyes bright with intelligence.

“It wasn’t what it looked like,” he muttered.

Mist sat on her hind legs looking smug.

“All right, it was, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

The cat continued to look smug and all-knowing.

He turned away, frustration gnawing at him. Why would the woman give him no peace? Even though sleep eluded him most nights, when he did sleep, she’d followed him into his dreams. She reached out to him, her bright light making the shadows around him recoil, but he did his best to stay out of reach.

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” he remembered telling her in one dream as they stood among a sea of lavender, the sky overhead dark with rainy clouds.

“Do you really want that?” she had asked him.

“I don’t want you here.” He gripped his hands into fists and the clouds darkened above them. “I could hurt and destroy you if I wanted to.”

“Perhaps,” she said as if the thought didn’t bother her and then she smiled. It was the smile that enraged him. He grabbed her arm and held her until he’d enveloped her into his darkness, a fierce wind wiping away the lavender field and leaving only cracked, barren soil. And as all the light around her faded, he looked at her face and expected to see fear or anger, but instead he saw sadness before all her light was gone.

Sean reached down and stroked Mist. Teresa was no match for him. No woman was. He would not be any woman’s conquest again. And he’d never let anyone shatter his heart again. He liked living alone, being ignored. He didn’t know why his honesty had brought her to tears, but it was the price he had to pay for his solitude.

Teresa had become aware of Second Chances used bookstore by accident. Her car had broken down and she had wandered into the bookstore while she waited for the tow truck to come. She knew it was just the place she needed to forget about him. She would bury herself in a stack of books and she’d never think about him again.

She was looking through the shelves when Pernelle, the new bookstore assistant, approached her. She was new to the area and had come to town several months ago.

“I haven’t seen you here in a while,” Pernelle said.

Pernelle was a remarkable-looking woman with a glowing quality not even a Hollywood studio could imitate. She wore stylish clothes that hinted of New York elegance, her hair was luminous and cascaded like a black waterfall down her back; her eyes were a dark purplish brown. She reminded Teresa of her cousin Olivia, except Olivia never glowed unless she was given something expensive. Teresa was shocked when the stunning woman had made it her mission to befriend her, but always enjoyed discussing books and Pernelle had told her about JS Braden.