Silver and Spice

Chapter 6

Dinner was over, and Anne sighed with satisfaction as she picked up their plates from the small table. Jake had just gone outside. Something to do with starting their hot-water heater. Anne had seen the myriad dials and compartments on the side of the motor home, but she was more interested in playing housewife in the dollhouse on wheels, for the moment.

The dishes were few. Jake had grilled steaks outside, and Anne had complemented them with baked potatoes dripping with melted cheese and bacon bits, and a salad of fresh greens. She usually found cleaning up a nuisance, but it wasn’t so bad with only two plates and a few pieces of silverware in the tiny powder-blue porcelain sink. After adding soap and water, she reached to pick up the two empty wineglasses, and noticed a pair of keys next to Jake’s plate.

Pushing open the door, she called out, “There’s already plenty of hot water. You don’t have to worry.”

“I wasn’t sure. The pilot light’s kind of fussy.” He was bending over the dials, looking as blissful as a teenage boy with a hot rod.

Anne chuckled, and then remembered. “What are the keys on the table for?”

“I thought we could both use a chance to spruce up after a long day of traveling. One key’s for the shower room for you. The other’s for the hot tub for me,” he said absently.

“Sounds good,” she agreed, and went back to her chores. She swiped at the table with a damp sponge, washed the two crystal goblets in steaming water, and frowned. A moment later she pushed open the door again. “What hot tub?” she called out.

It had turned dark since they’d sat down to dinner. Jake emerged from behind the motor home, his wolfish features accented by the yellow light of the outdoor lamp. He wiped one hand on the hip of his jeans, motioning vaguely to her with a screwdriver in the other hand. “You’ll be happier with the shower, Anne. Take my word for it.”

He disappeared into the shadows; she returned inside. Two china plates, two sets of silver, two salad plates… She unplugged the drain and watched the water swirl in rapid circles on its way down. Weariness flooded through her. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, just the kind of fatigue that came from traveling. Or perhaps that was how she excused a sudden unsettled feeling. The circle of light around the tiny kitchen area felt like an oasis. To her left was the double bed where Jake would sleep; to her right was the upper berth where she was sleeping-of course. Jake had made that clear. Twice. Her eyes flicked again to the keys on the kitchen table.

The motor-home door clattered open behind her; she all but jumped. “Actually, I would prefer the hot tub,” she remarked promptly, as if they were in the middle of a conversation.

Jake didn’t have any problem following her. “No, you wouldn’t.” He motioned toward the window in front of her. “There is the hot tub, honey.” She peered out at the crazy-looking redwood structure she’d noticed before, the one that resembled a child’s fort. At the moment, it was hidden in dusky shadows, but she could still make out the ladder and the redwood siding. Suddenly, as she peered at it, she realized that it had no roof.

“Bathing under the stars isn’t at all your style, Anne. It’s not as if you’d brought a bathing suit. In the shower, you’ll have your privacy.”

“Privacy? You’ve got a key that locks the gate, haven’t you?”

He brushed past her, a hand just drifting along the small of her back as he moved by to put his toolbox away. “Forget it, Anne. The women’s shower is more private. The last time I was here, a family of six descended on the hot tub while I was soaking in it. They had a key, too. That didn’t bother me, but it would certainly bother you.”

She could still feel the imprint of his splayed palm on her back. “Only two other motor homes have come in since we’ve been here. They’re both retired couples, and both already have their lights out, for heaven’s sake.” He was facing away from her, almost as if he wasn’t listening, and was opening drawers to get fresh clothes. “I’ll get the towels,” she said swiftly.

He stood up straight, so she could get past him. All very considerate. And offering her the shower, under the circumstances, was very considerate, too. Anne valued her privacy… There was no reason at all for her to feel miffed. Jake wasn’t the type to get upset if other people saw him naked; she very definitely wasn’t into community baths.

Fine. Only there wasn’t any “community” to worry about. Except for the “community” of the two of them. And in total darkness, with Jake, she was hardly worried about anyone else anyway. Bathing under the stars isn’t at all your style, Anne… She piled two thick terry-cloth towels in her arms, added her soft navy velour robe, and felt as if there were five tons of irritation in her bloodstream. No one liked to be pegged.

When she moved past him again, Jake moved forward to get out of her way. The motor home had ample space except when two adults were trying to negotiate the walkway at the same time. It took some effort to avoid touching each other-and Jake was certainly making the effort. Anne added a hairbrush to her pile of bath supplies. “Unless you have some objection, I’d prefer the tub over the shower,” she said stiffly.

“Why would I have any objection?” He paused. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.”

They both stepped outside into the darkness. A little wispy mist was starting to rise from the creek, illuminated by occasional yellow yard lights strung haphazardly through the camp’s park. The charcoal dusk seemed to mute all sounds. It was nearing ten. The two other mobile homes in the distance were dark; they might as well not have existed.

Jake raised his arm and just looked at her. Anne walked into the hollow of his shoulder with a small smile and they started along the shadowed path. Jake’s arm offered a simple promise of reassurance, as if her body had just plugged in to a powerful source of warmth. She had a sudden whim to be kissed in Iowa.

Their eyes met, and Jake’s lips suddenly curled in an almost imperceptible smile. Anne’s lashes lowered at the speed of light. “You can’t use the motor home for daily travel around Idaho, can you?” she said.

“I drive a Jeep, which I keep there. And the motor home isn’t the only place I lay my head, Anne, but I’d prefer to save a few surprises-most of the surprises-until we get there.”

“You haven’t really told me much about what you do in Idaho. Just knowing you’re involved in silver mines doesn’t tell me much.”

“Anything to do with silver doesn’t make any sense until you see it. As you will, Anne.” He shifted the clothes under his free arm. “In the meantime, somehow I didn’t expect you to spend your days staring at cornfields.”

“No?” she asked wryly. “What else did you want me to look at?”

“Finances. Mine. The ones you told your boss you would handle.”

His voice was light, but Anne’s mood changed abruptly. “Then he’ll have to fire me. Jake, that’s between you and you, your money. Don’t play games.”

“I’m not playing games. I want a trust. You’re a trust officer.”

She pushed a branch out of their way as they neared the redwood structure. Was he teasing? Unfortunately, she’d always found it very difficult to view finances in a humorous light. “If I were to handle your business-which I will not do-the last thing I would set up for you is a trust. A trust is set up primarily to protect heirs, so-”

“Exactly,” he said swiftly.

“Pardon?”

“Heirs, Anne. That’s exactly what I’ve in mind. Heirs out of wedlock, since we’re no longer talking marriage.”

Anne’s heart skipped a beat and a half. “Well, fine then,” she said cheerfully. “Give me the names and Social Security numbers of your illegitimate children, Jake, and then if you absolutely insist…”

His low, throaty laughter echoed in the stillness. “At least you didn’t panic when I said the word, sassy.”

The word marriage. Anne hugged the towels and robe to her chest, suddenly unable to concentrate.

At the foot of the wooden ladder, Jake offered, “If you’d rather have the hot tub to yourself, I’ll wait here until you’ve had a turn.”

“Don’t be silly,” Anne said irritably. They were both adults, it was dark and they’d certainly seen each other’s bare bottoms before. Jake’s arm on her shoulder could not have been more brotherly, and furthermore, she resented being treated like a prudish Victorian miss.

Her calf muscles tightened as she mounted the steps ahead of him. There were no yellow camp lights near the tub house. She reached out in search of something to hold on to as she climbed up to the tub; she could barely see the ladder. The owner was rather eccentric, Anne decided, between his ducks and a hot tub built in the air.

“Can you see to unlock the door?” she asked when they’d both reached the platform at the top of the ladder.

“My night vision’s always been better than yours,” Jake replied.

“Hate carrots,” Anne murmured absently. He opened the wooden gate, ushered her into the enclosure and relatched it with the two of them locked inside. Vaguely, she could make out a narrow deck surrounding a square pool large enough for perhaps six adults to sit in. Steam rose from the surface, a stark contrast to the chilly night air. The stars above the redwood fence seemed hung so low as to be touchable.

Anne set down the towels, heard Jake popping the buttons on his flannel shirt and froze for one odd second. From behind her, she heard shoes clump on the deck. Then a zipper being pulled down. A zipper had such a distinct sound… Instantly she decided that she would definitely prefer to bathe alone. Jake could go first; she could go first; it didn’t make any difference. Just not together. Only it was too late to make that decision…

When she no longer heard the sounds of clothing being removed, she hurried to fill the silence. “The air is absolutely freezing,” she mentioned with a little laugh.

“And the water is very, very warm. You won’t be cold, Anne.”

Hmm. The water surged noisily when he stepped in; Anne’s eyes darted nervously to the wooden gate.

“It’s locked,” he assured her. The thread of lazy humor in his voice was unmistakable. “I could have sworn you could hardly wait to get in the hot tub.”

“I can’t,” she agreed vaguely, and dropped down on the rough wooden bench by the towels. She slid off her pumps slowly, one at a time, and set them neatly side by side under the bench. She felt…set up. Stepping back into the shadows, she turned away from Jake and reached under her skirt to pull down her pantyhose, not a graceful action at the best of times.

“Anne?”

She refused to look up. The button on her skirt wouldn’t budge, probably because her fingers had suddenly turned cold and clumsy. The zipper got caught on the sole stray thread in the placket. Finally, the skirt was off and folded neatly on the bench. Her pulse pounded as if she were having an anxiety attack. She felt like a stripper about to walk on stage for the first time.

Her half-slip had turned icy the way only cold satin can. Night air whispered intimately up her legs. If the wind had been a man, she would have slapped it for its brash familiarity with that feminine triangle between her thighs. Still turned away from Jake, she started undoing the dozen tiny pearl buttons on her blue blouse.

She could feel Jake’s eyes on her back, waiting. He knew what she was feeling. He was the one who’d shifted their relationship into neutral, and he knew perfectly well that it put nakedness in a different light. Undressing for a lover was one thing, but she was not supposed to want an intimate relationship with him these two weeks. She didn’t. Not again, Anne, you’ll go to pieces when it’s over. So…it should be nothing, slipping off a few clothes in the dark. Jake had seen her nude before; they were both adults, and Jake had made it very clear that he wasn’t going to make a pass. She had no reason at all to feel suddenly as vulnerable and fragile as a cotton puff.

Slowly, she pulled off her blouse, one sleeve and then the other. Pearl-smooth shoulders gleamed their softness from the dark water’s reflection. She could keep her bra and panties on, of course; they covered more than a bathing suit. She could keep them on if she was willing to admit to herself that she still wanted him, that she cared too much, that nakedness plus closeness plus Jake was a very risky combination in her mind. Her limbs moved like satin in shadow as she unhooked the front catch of her bra. Her bare breasts protested the sudden exposure to the cold, and the nipples tightened vulnerably.

“Turn around, Anne.” His voice soft, the humor all gone. Just a husky, vibrant baritone talking only to that very tiny, very primitive part of Anne…

“I’ll be in in a moment.” She rapidly stripped off the half-slip and panties, and her whole body began to tremble with cold. She turned toward the tub then, head lowered as she carefully negotiated the steps. The steaming hot water surged around her slim calves, then her waist, and she hurriedly crouched down so that the water came up to her shoulders.

She took a breath. “Feels good,” she offered lightly, and forced her legs to stretch out under the cover of the soothing dark water.

Jake said nothing. His face was in shadow, but he was looking at her. His arms were stretched out on the sides of the tub, and gleamed golden in the darkness. His hair had picked up the silver of the stars, and was ruffled like thick, rough fur. The eyes pinned on hers were distinctly a man’s: silvery, intense, opaque… She groped for an innocuous conversational gambit.

None occurred to her.

Very slowly, like a hunter being careful not to frighten a wary doe, Jake got out of the tub and reached for something to the side. She heard a click, understanding it seconds later. The concealing black waters turned iridescent turquoise, suddenly lit by three circular spotlights in the bottom of the pool. Her limbs turned to stone, locked in helpless, vulnerable display. Jake’s nudity was just as clearly revealed, as he rejoined her in the tub, yet he looked neither helpless nor vulnerable.

Her breath seemed to have caught somewhere between her throat and her lungs, locked there. He was a beautiful man, just as he had been a beautiful lover. His body was sleek and strong and virile, with skin several shades darker than hers. She remembered too much, too fast. Still, she found herself staring. Droplets of water clung to his shoulders; the silver strands of his chest hair gleamed against his darker flesh in the water. It was so like Jake, the casual way he balanced himself lazily, one leg hooked over a step. He sat motionless, watching her face, not her body. And when she looked up, his dark eyes fastened on hers and refused to let go.

“That wasn’t fair, was it?” he said quietly. “Turning on the lights.”

“No.”

His voice was low, gentle. “There were times I remembered the look of you in my dreams. They never measured up to how beautiful you really are, Anne.” He added, “Do you want me to turn off the light?”

“What I really want…” There was something in her throat, some strange, hoarse catch that made the words come out like a whispered plea. “I can’t seem to…move.”

His hands reached out and claimed hers, drawing her through the water toward him, cradling her instantly in his warm, slippery limbs. Anne wrapped her arms around his waist as if he were a lifeline, the blood surging through her veins, her cheek nestled against his shoulder. The water lapped and soothed, lapped and soothed, its heat forcing warmth back into her chilled limbs. Jake stroked back her hair, pressing small, firm kisses on her forehead.

In the water, her own flesh looked strange to her, all white next to his, all translucent, a voluptuous image of curves and tucks that was so unlike the images she had of herself. Her lips searched for his, suddenly desperately hungry for the feeling of closeness his touch could give her, had always given her. She found what she was looking for; her mouth clung to his, drinking him in, invading his mouth with a liquid-soft tongue. Limbs tangled around limbs, drawn to each other in the dark solitude. It had been too long, her body told her, too long since he’d touched her and held her.

Jake was her haven. Her mind explained patiently that that made no sense. Her heart knew different truths. His palm glided over her breast and rib, down to her hip and thigh, and her breath caught. Slowly, he loosened her arms, his lips dipping down to the warm, damp, exposed hollow of her shoulder. “Whatever you think, I didn’t intend this,” he murmured. “But then, you were so foolish, sweet. You stood there worrying about every item of clothing that had to come off, almost as if you were afraid, as if you were a virgin again…”

“You know better,” she whispered into his throat.

“I know better,” he agreed huskily. “I know you when a dark storm is haunting your eyes and your lips are trembling and your legs are wrapped around mine…”

His mouth claimed hers, fierce, sweet, aching, hard. Almost roughly, his fingers combed through her hair. Hairpins went flying, and a cascade of ash-blond hair came tumbling down, crushed in his hands. Rapids rushed through her bloodstream, a violent, terrible shiver of vulnerability. She was suddenly floating free in the water, propelled by Jake’s rough stroke away from the side. There was only Jake to hold on to in a liquid world without gravity. A low, guttural cry escaped from her throat when he raised her up from the water and touched his tongue to her breast. His tongue was moving like the lash of a whip…only tenderly. Tender, sweet lashes.

“Tell me,” he whispered.

She shook her head helplessly. Tell him…what? About the hot water and the cold, cold air and the sky trying to light the entire world with stars…? Tell him about the fire in her soul? Air and water and fire, an elemental cry that echoed through her bloodstream until the fierce, wild yearning was out of control…? But it changed nothing. He had a power over her no other man had…but he already knew that.

“Tell me you don’t remember,” he went on, still whispering. “Tell me you don’t feel the same anymore, that this makes no difference. Tell me what you don’t want, Anne…” His hands roamed over her water-silkened flesh, his lips pressed into her throat. Her fingers curled in the wet fur on his chest, and she could feel his heart pounding. She could feel her own heart pounding.

So silent, the whole rest of the world. Just the rasp of his breathing and then the pressure of his mouth on hers, the smooth, warm feel of the water and the blend of limb to limb, inseparable. A sensation that she was going to fall and never stop falling… “Lord, I want you, Jake,” she whispered. “Don’t let go…”

She was so safe. Safe and wonderfully free and alive, when he held her. Yearning ached through her in a warm, long quiver; dynamite growing desperate to explode…

The rattle of wooden gate seemed to come from a thousand miles away. Jake’s fingers suddenly dug into her flesh, startling her. Even before the gate creaked open, he’d whirled her behind him and pinned her against the rough side of the tub.

“Mr. Rivard?” A pair of fox eyes peered at them in the glow of the lights beneath the water. “I was mighty worried when I noticed the yard lights were out in this part of the campground. We were having trouble with the water temperature yesterday, and I-”

“Hit the light switch,” Jake said brusquely.

“Beg your pardon? I-”

“Now.”

He hit the switch. The pool lights went out instantly; the water turned black. Anne buried her face in Jake’s shoulder blades and closed her eyes.

“I had the thermostat repaired yesterday, but nobody’s reserved the tub since then, until you did, and I thought I should check. I mean I never meant to disturb you…”

The man was embarrassed and didn’t know how to make his escape. Jake handled him, in another world. The real world. Shame rippled painfully through Anne. She’d always known the relationship had no foundation to sustain it other than sex, yet so easily, so readily she’d just…

Everything was suddenly violently wrong. Her head ached. Clouds had formed a cloak over the stars, and cold air dipped down inside the wooden gates and whipped at her damp hair. Her heart was still trying to beat down its disappointment at not having her sexual needs satisfied…sexual being the operative word, a voice in her head scolded. She was insane to have made this trip…

She heard the latch of the gate and knew the man had left. Jake loosened his fiercely protective hold, and Anne was free to breathe again. And she did breathe, her eyes averted.

“Anne…”

A finger cocked up her chin. She batted it away, and surged past him and out of the water, her skin tightening as the cold night air raced over her dripping limbs. She reached for a towel, then rapidly changed her mind and grabbed up her robe, which she swiftly belted around her still-soaking body.

“Take it easy, Anne,” Jake said slowly, quietly coming up behind her.

“I’m not particularly proud of myself, Jake,” Anne shot back, “so just lay off.” Her hands were shaking as she grabbed the rest of her things and tried to tug open the gate. It wouldn’t give.

“He relocked it and I have the key. Just a moment.” Deftly, Jake got into his jeans and pulled a sweatshirt over his head. Anne saw the moody look in his eyes and averted her gaze. His jaw was tight, but he wasn’t angry. There was just a certain stillness about him that made her want to bite the inside of her lip; she wanted out of here. Out and completely away from him.

He stuck the key in the lock, but claimed her arm before she could open the gate. “It doesn’t make sense,” he insisted, “to fight something we both want.”

“We’ve been there,” Anne hissed. “Jake, you know that. I don’t know why I agreed to come. All that’s going to happen is that we’ll end up sleeping together again and building these…ties…and then I’ll go back to being Anne and you’ll go back to being Jake, and I can’t handle that again. You’ll go off to heaven knows where-”

Jake brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek, so tenderly that she could have hit him. “With you.”

“No! I don’t want that kind of life. I can’t handle it. I don’t need it…” She pivoted, turned the small brass key in the door and hurried down the wooden ladder into the frigid night.

Jake didn’t catch up with her until she was in the motor home, reaching in a drawer for her hair dryer. Her hair was drenched and took a long time to dry.

Jake took the dryer from her hand and dried her hair for her. Over the steady whine of the hair dryer, she gradually calmed down, not really from discipline but rather from exhaustion. If Jake had said one word…but he said nothing at all. Once her hair was dry, he pulled a nightgown over her head, helped her into the upper berth and tucked her into her own pink comforter. “You’re not going home,” he whispered. “I know exactly what you have in mind at the end of the two weeks, Anne-leaving. All right-if that’s how you feel then. But you’re not going home before the two weeks are up. Hear me?”

She heard him.