Duplicity (15 page)

Dirk took her hand and playfully tugged her out the door. "Come, my pretty pet. Your hammer awaits."

"Slave driver," she said.
Love,
a tiny voice in her head corrected her as she followed him into the sunshine. Whatever it was had a name, and that name was love.

"No." She didn't know that she had spoken the soft denial aloud.

"Did you say something?" he asked.

"I said. I’ll race you down the hill." She pulled her hand out of his and ran ahead. She couldn't bear to touch him another minute, knowing that he was so far away, separated from her by secrets and invisible fences.

He sensed the change in her, and he suspected that she was struggling with the same feelings he had hidden under their light banter. A constraint settled on them as they worked. From time to time Dirk's hammer stilled as he watched Ellen. Although she appeared to be totally involved with the task at hand, she didn't fool him. He saw the tension in her face, felt the strong pull of passion between them.

He shouldn't have stayed: He knew that now. But it was too late. He had gone beyond the point of no return. The feelings he had turned loose in Lawrence County had grown beyond his control. He had to have her. It was that simple. That it would be just a summer affair no longer mattered. That he would walk away with her image burned forever into his heart was of no consequence. For a short time Dr. Ellen Stanford would be his. They would have their brief pleasure and handle their parting as two mature adults.

He knew Ellen. He knew the slant of her cheekbones and the tilt of her head. He knew the red- gold of her hair in the sunshine and its fiery halo in the moonlight. He could close his eyes and feel the exact shape of her body. He had seen her joy and laughter, her dignity and strength. He knew that she could handle anything, even good-bye.

"Let's call It a day." Dirk put his hammer into the toolbox and stretched. The four o'clock sun was gleaming on his sweat-damp chest. As Ellen glanced up, she decided that Dirk made the male models in suntan ads look positively puny.

"Let's," she agreed. She set her hammer into the toolbox. "I suppose you'll be going back up the mountain."

"It would be more convenient if I stayed here until the work is finished."

She bought time by brushing her hair off her forehead. Was this the same man who always went out of his way to avoid being around her? What had happened? "There's an extra room in the main building and also an empty cabin on the compound," she said. "We have overnight guests sometimes—relatives, reporters, visiting scientists."

"The cabin sounds perfect." He looked down at his bedraggled cutoff jeans. "I'll go back to Tony's and toss some things in a bag." He held his hand, palm up, toward her. "Come with me, Ellen."

She looked first at the hand, then deep into his eyes. The amber light was there again, the same light that had beckoned to her in Lawrenceburg. She knew instinctively that the outstretched hand was more than an invitation to go with Dirk for a change of clothes. She could see it in his eyes. But she had to hear the words. She had to be very sure that what had happened on Uncle Vester's farm would not happen again on Beech Mountain. This time there was no white stallion to carry her away from rejected love.

"Why?" she asked softly.

"I think you know."

"I want to hear you say the words."

His smile was slow and lazy. "Do you want it in writing, Doctor?" The smile took the sting out of the words.

"What would you do if I said yes?"

He reminded her of a lion as he walked toward her, deliberate and purposeful, a golden-hued sleek jungle cat, king of his kind, stalking the victim. She smiled. She had never felt less like a victim in her life. She felt vibrant and alive, and surging with joy.

Dirk didn't stop until he was so close that she could see the tiny scar on his jaw. He cupped her face with his hands, lifting it so that he could look into her eyes. "I would say, 'Get me a piece of paper.' "

She took a long, ragged breath. "You once vowed that you would not be involved in a summer affair."

"Some vows are meant to be broken."

"Are you very sure?"

"Yes." His thumbs traced her jawline as he talked. "I've discovered some things about myself, Ellen."

She smiled. "You said that once too."

"I've discovered feelings that are too strong to be denied. I've discovered that I have to have you—
no matter what the consequences
."

The words echoed in her mind: no matter what the consequences. It amazed her that she and Dirk were so alike. He had expressed her feelings exactly. She knew that her work was a demanding master. She knew that a husband and family didn't fit into her plans. Besides that Dirk still had secrets—a name and a past that he had chosen to hide from her. In spite of all that she still wanted him. She wanted to know the touch of his hands on her body. She wanted to know the feel of his lips on her skin.

"Yes," she said. "I’ll go with you ... no matter what the consequences."

It was his turn to ask the question. "You're sure? You're sure you can handle a summer affair with no commitments?"

"Yes." She put her hands over his and pressed them against her face. "I'm very sure."

He leaned down and kissed her lightly. The kiss tasted of sun and pine and sweat salt. It was a miniature lightning bolt, a prelude to the thunderstorm that was to come. He released her lips and took her hand. "Ready, Ellen?"

"As soon as I check on Ruth Ann and Gigi."

Together they walked up the hill. Dirk waited in the shade of a pine tree while Ellen went inside. She found Ruth Ann in the office.

"Is Gigi napping?" Ellen asked.

"Yes. She's been as good as gold today. She knows that she shouldn't have run away." Ruth Ann pushed her glasses down on her nose and studied Ellen. "How's the fence building coming along?"

"We haven't finished. It will probably be at least another day. Dirk's going to stay in the guest cabin until the job is done."

 "Is that necessary? He lives only three miles away."

 "No. It isn't necessary, but it's what I want." Ellen spoke quietly. She had already decided that there was no point in trying to keep their affair a secret. She was too old to sneak, and she was too close to her assistant to keep secrets. Besides that Ruth Ann knew everything that went on in the compound. She was nobody's fool.

 "You already know what I think," Ruth Ann said. She took her glasses off and polished the already sparkling lenses.

 "Yes."

 She shoved the glasses back on her nose. "I just hope you know what you're doing, that's all."

 "Don't worry about me, Ruth Ann. Dirk and I will be back—" -

 "There's no need to tell me. I'm not a house mother." Ruth Ann waved toward the door. "Go, go. I’ll handle Gigi. You're spoiling her rotten anyhow. She's been trying all day to con me into letting her drive the Buick."

 Ellen laughed. "Don't you dare."

 "Don't worry. I'm not as softhearted as some people I know."

 Ellen left the office and walked into the bright sunlight. Dirk smiled at her.

 "Ready, love?" he asked.

 "What happened to honey-bunchums?"

 He put his arm around her shoulder and led her to his car. "That was for make-believe. This is for real."

 o0o

 As they drove to Tony's cabin, Ellen decided that Beech Mountain had never looked more glorious. It was like a handsome old warrior with rugged, weatherbeaten cheeks of stone, a girdle of stalwart pines, and a victory crown of goldenrod. She thought the setting was altogether appropriate for the beginning of an interlude of pleasure.

Dirk parked Rocinante in the shade by the cabin. "Here we are," he said. He turned and looked at her, his eyes unnaturally bright in the shadows of the car. That was all it took: the simple words and one look.

They didn't know who made the first move, but suddenly they were together in the middle of the seat, holding each other, lips seeking lips, torso straining against torso as they sealed their fate with a kiss.

She tasted the salt of his lips and smelled the wind scent of his hair. Her hands moved restlessly across his bare back until they found what they sought, the jagged scar. Tenderly she traced its lines as her mouth flowered open to welcome his tongue. She moaned at the roughness of his tongue as he caressed the warm satin of her mouth, inciting her body to riot. Their breaths mingled as their tongues danced together, thrusting and probing, a heated prelude to the intimacy to come.

Without the coolness of the air conditioner the car, even under the shade of the pine tree, became a hotbox. Perspiration beaded Ellen's forehead and ran in rivulets between her breasts as she remained locked in Dirk's arms. She could feel his bare chest, sweat-slick and heaving, through the thin cotton of her blouse.

He made a sound deep in his throat and moved his mouth only inches from hers. "I want you, Ellen, but not like this. I want to savor you." Taking her hand, he pulled her almost roughly from the car.

She followed him willingly across the clearing, but as he strode past the cabin she tugged at his hand until he stopped. "Wait." She laughed breathlessly up at him. "Where are we going?"

"I know a place." His voice held the rough edge of suppressed passion. "Follow me."

Right at the moment she would have followed him to the ends of the earth. She smiled at him, and her eyes told him what he needed to know.

Without another word he led her into the woods behind Anthony Salinger's cabin. The trees made a cool canopy over their heads as he guided her to a pond, set like a blue jewel amid the thick growth of pine and oak and willow. Skirting the edge of the pond, they came to a natural bower, walled in by a thick tangle of muscadine vines and a rampant growth of wild roses.

They stopped inside the bower, still holding hands, and looked deep into each other's eyes. All the days of waiting, the lonely hours of wanting, were clearly stamped on their faces. They made no move to embrace but stood perfectly still, savoring the tight moment of anticipation, reveling in the delicious shivers of desire that were running through them.

He reached up slowly to touch the soft tendrils of hair that had slipped from her topknot and framed her face. "All my life I've dreamed of a woman like you and a place like this."

She covered his hand and rubbed it against her cheek. "Do dreams come true?"

"Only when we make them." And Dirk, the man accustomed to the hard knocks and the harsher realities of life, set about making his dream come true.

With a control that he was far from feeling, he let his hands trace the lines of her body, starting at her face, sliding down her neck, moving across her shoulders and down the length of her arms. The hands, sun-bronzed and powerful, moved back up her arms and across her chest, stopping to cup her breasts. Through the fabric of her blouse they teased and molded until her nipples were tight and jutting.

She tangled her hands in his dark hair as he lowered his head and opened his mouth over one breast. While his hands continued to knead and mold the other breast, his tongue wet the fabric around her nipple, until the nipple was a dark, tempting rosebud visible through the thin blouse.

Her hands moved in his hair, pulling him closer as her head tipped back. Flashes of heat shot through her body as he took her deep in his mouth. The sensations were heightened by the faint abrasion of wet fabric on her breasts. The heady scent of wild roses filled her nostrils as Dirk moved from one breast to the other, seeking and suckling.

When he at last lifted his head, she was weak- kneed with desire. She felt his hands begin the slow unbuttoning of her blouse.

"I approve this new fashion," he said. His voice was low and hoarse with passion.

"I didn't take time to put on a bra this morning." Her hands moved to his mat of dark chest hair, gold-tipped by the sun. She felt its springy texture as her fingertips explored in erotic circles.

"That's the first thing I noticed this morning," he said, "when you came for Gigi. It's been driving me wild all day."

He slid the blouse from her shoulders and let it flutter to the ground. Cupping her face in his hands he urged her closer until their bare chests were touching. His mouth descended on hers, claiming it with hot, wet kisses as he brushed his chest back and forth against hers. Her sensitive nipples, already primed by his tongue, tightened into aching readiness as the crisp hairs of his chest massaged them.

While his mouth slid across hers, wetting her lips, teasing them, tasting them, his hands slipped down to unsnap her shorts. His thumbs hooked the waistband, forcing the shorts to ride low on her hips. She wiggled against him, and the shorts slid down her legs and landed on the grass. He drew her tight against him so that she felt his hardness through the thin silk of her panties.

His hips plunged against hers with growing impatience. He lowered her to the ground and divested himself of his clothes in one fluid movement. The scent of the summer grass and the wild roses seemed to drug her as she felt his hard body on top of her. He rolled to one side, propping himself up on his elbow, and pulled the pins from her hair and flung them aside. With one motion of his powerful hand he loosed her hair and spread it like a flame on the grass.