Again (10 page)

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Authors: Diana Murdock

BOOK: Again
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“Take it easy, man.”  Troy slapped Bryce’s shoulder as he turned to leave.

Bryce managed to muster a grunting noise as they watched him walk to his truck and sling his bags into the back of it.

“I don’t like him.”  There was finality to Bryce’s tone.
 
He looked somber, hands shoved in his pockets, head turned downward, with a scowl on his face. 

She almost felt sorry for him.
 
Eryn went to him and slid her arms around his waist, lifting her face to say, “Why don’t you help me get this stuff to my car and then I’ll treat you to happy hour?”

He stared down at her, his expression dark.

“Come on.
 
Like old times, remember?”  Stretching up on her tiptoes, she softly kissed his neck and flicked her tongue just below his ear.  She smiled to herself when she heard a catch in his breath and felt his chest beneath her hands tense.

 


 

“Here, let me top that off for you.”  Eryn poised the bottle over Bryce’s cup.

“No, I’m good.
 
I have a…”

“I know, I know, a meeting in the morning.”  She put the bottle down and twisted it into the sand next to the soda.  Like old times, but this time they didn’t have to pilfer the bottles from their parents’ wet bar before sneaking down to the beach to party.

The evening was perfect, with the sun still high enough above the horizon to warm the shore.  They settled on a spot next to a cliff in a protected cove, shielded from the off-shore breeze, away from wandering eyes.  The seagulls were starting to huddle together on the beach in clusters, having spent the day scavenging for food.  All was quiet, except for the soft lull of the waves.

Eryn leaned up against Bryce’s shoulder, feeling his body relax against hers, his elbows resting on the blanket that covered their knees.
 
She traced the line of Bryce’s muscle along his arm and smiled as he flexed it in response.  What would it be like, she thought, if he would just turn to her and kiss her, with no other reason than to show her he loved and wanted her?
 
What would it be like if he held her face in his hands, pressed his mouth hotly to hers, and tasted her lips?
 
Was there such a thing as two people so in love, that just being around each other made it impossible to keep hands off one another?

She closed her eyes against a headiness that started to inch its way up her neck and glide over the top of her head, like millions of tiny fingers kneading through her memory.
 
She felt strangely detached, stuck somewhere between here and there.
 
The sound of voices and laughter was suspended somewhere in that space, too.
 
Her mind was awash with white before
his
face came into focus.
 
Her breath caught in her throat.
 
He was so close.
 
If only she could reach out and touch him this time…

His lips came painfully close to hers.
 
She dared not move.
 
She so desperately wanted to feel his lips upon hers.
 

He hesitated a moment before he drew closer and softly kissed her cheek.
 
His fingers traced the softness of her lips, marveling at their fullness. “May I?”


I pray that you will hesitate no longer,” she whispered.
 
Her breath was lost as his kiss consumed her, the hot silk of his tongue smooth against hers.  Never before had she been kissed so thoroughly, so passionately, and with such abandon.  She discovered she was not a fragile flower that would crush under the weight of such passion, but a woman who could give as much pleasure as she took.  Boldly she threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, arching her back as his lips traveled down her neck, grazing the edge of her gown
...

Eryn’s senses screamed.
 
Both her mind and body were on fire, erasing the boundaries between them, blurring the line between dreams and reality.
 
Her eyes flew open and her body instantly stiffened.
 
It was so fast, too blurred… and then it was gone, leaving her heart pounding in her chest.

Bryce leaned away, his startled, cool gray eyes staring into hers.
 
“Are you all right?”

She shivered.
 
Her dress, perfect for the warmth earlier in the day, gave little protection in the cooling air.
 
“Uh, yeah.
 
I’m…I’m okay.”
 
She ran her hands over her face.
 
“I just thought I heard some voices.”

“Come here.”
 
Bryce lay back and tugged her down beside him, pulling the blanket over their bodies.

With her hand on his solid chest, the beat of his heart against her cheek, and with Bryce’s arms firmly around her, she should have felt secure.
 
But instead she was unsettled.
 
Okay, so maybe their marriage wasn’t perfect, but he was here, sharing his life with her every day.
 
Shouldn’t that be enough?
 
She wanted so desperately to say yes, but now something was starting to come between them - or
someone
, she corrected herself.
 
This was the third time the man in her dream had penetrated her psyche, totally getting into her head.
 
He seemed to be calling her.
 
She shivered again.

“We’d better go,” she said, pushing herself up.

They packed what was left of their drinks and with the blanket wrapped around her, they walked back towards the car.
 

Bryce gestured down the beach at a campfire. “They’re probably not even old enough to drink.”

She stopped and stared at the smiling faces illuminated by the flames.
 
Bursts of laughter mingled with the popping of the wood, as the group around the fire tipped back bottles of beer and wine.
 
Was Bryce kidding?
 
Maybe the heat rising off the fire distorted their faces.
 
To her they all looked way older than twenty-one.
 
She blinked and then rubbed her eyes.

Her body tensed and the shivering began again, this time uncontrollably.

“Come on.
 
Let’s go home.”
 
Bryce held her close and pulled her towards the parking lot, leaving the fire and laughter behind.

 

 

Chapter 10

 

Their horses slowed to a stop just beyond the still-quiet village.
 
Catherine watched the ships in the port rock lazily in the rippling waters while their crews set about their morning duties.

To her dismay, the breeze coming off the ocean barely managed to stir the air’s heaviness and her grip on the reins tightened as she fought the onslaught of heat.
 
Memories of her meeting with Jonathan swirled inside her, and some instinct told her the heat she felt was not from the sun.  Thoughts of him were sending a fever surging through her body.

“Master Jonathan is up and about early, milady,” Emelie said, pointing to
La Helena.

At the base of the plank leading to the ship, Jonathan was opening boxes, inspecting the contents, and putting out goods.
 
His discarded shirt lay on one of the cargo boxes beside him.
 
Catherine followed the line from his broad shoulders down to his trim waist.
 
She bit her lower lip.
 
This would be so much easier if he would simply keep his shirt on.

“Quickly, milady,” Emelie urged her.
 
“He is alone now, but the sun rises higher and others will be coming.”

Crimson stained Catherine’s cheeks as she realized how intently she had been staring.  She opened her mouth to say something, anything to deny what she felt, but the words refused to come.

Emelie smiled and nodded encouragingly.

“I am here for no other reason, Emelie, than to spend time away from the castle this morning,” Catherine protested.  “The stench of Lord Oakley was too much for me to bear this morning.”

Though her maid lowered her eyes, Catherine did not miss the knowing smile.  Ignoring her, Catherine took a deep breath and spurred her horse onward.

The soft plod of the horse’s hooves upon the ground disturbed the stillness of the morning air, alerting Jonathan of their approach.
 
Looking up, he tucked his hair behind his ears and he gave her a dangerously beautiful smile.

“Catherine!”
he cried.
 
He stood before them, hands on his hips, unaware of the effect his naked chest had on Catherine.  Even without moving, the strength in his shoulders and arms simmered just beneath the sun-darkened skin. 

Her fingers itched to caress a trail from the soft hollow of his throat down along the ripples of his stomach.  She blushed fiercely when his eyes locked with hers, but she could not look away.
 

He returned her gaze, looking not at the jewels she wore or at the richness of her dress, but at her,
Catherine
.
 

Jonathan gathered his shirt and slid it quickly over his head, finally releasing Catherine’s senses from the intoxicating sight.

“I found the walls of the castle a bit too confining this morning,” she managed to say.
 
“I merely wished to pass the time elsewhere.”

He nodded in understanding and gestured around him.
 
“And what better place to spend time?”
 
Jonathan turned and called towards the ship.
 
“Cedric!”

A tall, gangly young man, appeared at the top of the plank.
 
“Sir?”

“Come take milady’s horses and care for them, eh?”

“Aye, sir!” Cedric hurried down towards them, his mass of curly blond locks bouncing around his boyish face.

As Jonathan helped Catherine and Emelie dismount, Cedric took the reins, hesitating a moment in front of Emelie.
 
He seemed to forget his purpose the moment he looked upon her face.

“The horses, Cedric,” Jonathan whispered, a hint of tease in his voice.

Cedric blushed, and mumbling an apology, he led the horses away, stealing glances at Emelie over his shoulder.

Jonathan laughed.
 
“A good man, he is.  A bit timid with the ladies, but as loyal a friend as one could wish.”

Catherine avoided his gaze, intent on studying the retreating Cedric.
 
She could feel Jonathan looking her.  Struggling to keep her face passive, she marveled at how he could make her skin so warm without even touching her.

“Would you walk with me, Catherine?”
 
Jonathan asked softly.
 
There was an intimacy with which he spoke her name, a familiarity that rolled naturally off his tongue.
 
“There is a path I found that overlooks the water.”

Catherine looked in the direction he pointed.   It was a path she knew well, one that her mother had taken her on many years before.
 
A walk this morning was not what she intended, but why should she not walk?
 
A walk would be perfectly harmless, she told herself.

“Emelie…”
 
She looked to her maid, gesturing her to join them.

Jonathan called over his shoulder.
 
“Cedric!”

Face still blushing, Cedric bounded to his side.

“You are in charge here for a time, Cedric.  I trust that you will see to Emelie’s needs.”  Jonathan clapped him on the shoulder.

Cedric pressed his lips together and quickly glanced at Emelie, whose face reddened, too.

“Now,” Jonathan said, turning to Catherine. “Let us take our walk.
 
Emelie will be well taken care of.”
  
Jonathan leaned closer to her, too close to her suddenly willing lips.  “We should hasten, lest Cedric loses his wits.”

He extended his arm for her to take, but she refused.  Though she yearned to feel the strength of his arm, she feared she would lose her own wits if she did.
 
And if she were to be left alone with him, without Emelie…

“But I cannot leave her here,” Catherine objected.
 
“Why, that would be highly improper.”

Jonathan cocked his head to one side as if he did not understand.
 
“Do you truly believe that to be so?”  When she did not answer, he gave her a smile that weakened her knees.  “Come. You will not be disappointed.”  He turned to lead the way.

“Shall I come with you, milady?” Emelie’s anxious tone stayed her.

Catherine looked at Jonathan, standing a few steps away, eyes sparkling, then back at Emelie whose hands fisted in her skirt.
 
Then she glanced at Cedric, who was toeing the ground nervously.
 
No harm would come of this, she reassured herself.
 
She would only be gone for a short time.
 

Catherine shook her head and sighed.
 
“No, that will not be necessary, Emelie.”
 
Turning, Catherine followed Jonathan.

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