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Authors: Janet Dailey

BOOK: Foxfire Light
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His fingers tunneled into her hair to support the back of her neck. Brute strength she could have fought, but not this tantalizing possession that seemed to seek no more than a mutual enjoyment of the experience.

Was that true? Or was she subconsciously being influenced by primitive superstition into
believing this kiss was inevitable because it had been foretold by an omen? His mouth eased from her lips and began to graze slowly along her smooth cheek.

“Did Jessie Bates put you up to this?” There was a disturbed level to her voice that proved she wasn't unaffected by this kiss. The stirring warmth of his breath against her lashes kept her eyes closed.

“Jessie?” He lifted his head an inch or two, a puzzled frown arching a dark brow. Joanna risked a glance at him and saw the vague be-musement in his eyes. “What has he got to do with this?”

“He arranged this with you so I would be kissed before nightfall and fulfill his silly prophecy because that bird flew in front of me,” she accused in a none too steady voice.

There was a brief, negative movement of his head. “Jessie didn't mention anything to me about birds or kisses but if that's what he said, I don't want to make a liar out of him,” Linc murmured huskily.

His mouth took hers again with familiar ease. There was a subtle difference in its possession, a quality of probing hunger in his kiss that seemed to test her ability to satisfy him. Her response to the silent challenge was almost involuntary as a melting warmth spread over her body.

His arms were around her, his hands gliding along her spine and applying casual pressure to arch her to his length. Her own fingers were splayed across the back of his ribcage, feeling
the hard sinewed flesh and the body heat that flowed through the material of his shirt.

There was a traitorous excitement building in her system. Her hold on reality was weakening under the dizzying rush of emotion aroused by his experienced advance. Joanna became conscious of the scrape of rough denim against the bareness of her thighs and legs as she leaned against the solid support of his hips. The western buckle of his belt was poking her ribs and she realized her beach jacket was hanging open.

She was frightened by the part of her that wanted this intimacy to continue and grow, yet she lacked the determination and willpower to end the kiss. It was up to Linc to bring it to a gradual conclusion, which he did.

The instant her mouth was free of his possession, Joanna lowered her chin. There seemed to be so little air in her lungs. She struggled not to drink it in in gulps, not wanting Linc to know how breathless his kiss had left her. She brought her hands around to rest against his chest and establish space between them while still taking advantage of his support.

“Now you can tell Jessie that his prediction came true.” With a slight toss of her head, Joanna met his heavily lidded gaze and attempted to show her indifference of him.

But she had the uneasy feeling those eyes saw right through her pretence. When his head began to descend toward her, she turned her face aside to avoid another kiss and stiffened her arms. Linc didn't try to hold her when she
pushed out of his embrace and took a couple of steps to put distance between them.

“No more, Linc.” She forced out a short laugh as she tried to treat the incident as a humorous experiment. “Jessie predicted I would only be kissed twice. As you said, we don't want to make a liar out of him.”

When she turned around to look at him, his narrowed gaze slowly traveled down the length of her body, lingering on the exposed swell of her breasts revealed by the daring cut of her bathing suit and on the tanned bareness of her long legs. The boldness of his look brought a draining rush of heat through her body.

Her hands were shaking as she quickly wrapped the front of her terrycloth jacket closed and tied its sash in a tight knot. Flustered by the physical effect he was having on her, Joanna half-turned away. Purely by chance, she faced the screen door to the back porch. Through its dark mesh, she saw a figure approaching the cabin.

“Joanna—” Linc spoke her name, a summons in its pitch.

“Here comes Reece.” She leaped on the excuse to ignore him and took long, swift steps to reach the screen door. She pushed it open and called to her uncle. “Hi! Did you catch any fish?”

“None.” There was little disappointment in either his voice or his expression as he climbed the steps to the porch. “I had a few nibbles, but that's all. They'll probably start biting closer to evening.”

Reece paused to set his fishing rod and reel against the outside of the cabin along with his tackle box before he moved to the door she was holding open for him. His glance took in the beach jacket she was wearing and the bareness of her legs.

“You've been swimming, I see,” he observed as he crossed the threshold. Almost immediately he noticed their visitor. “Well, hello, Linc,” His quick smile revealed his pleasure at seeing the man. “Have you been here long?”

“He arrived a few minutes ago,” Joanna answered before Linc could.

“Yes.” Linc went along with her answer and added a comment of his own. “Joanna has been entertaining me.”

She knew precisely what he meant by his mocking insinuation and was glad it escaped her uncle. As she became aware of sudden quiet that had fallen, she noticed Reece dart her a sharp glance before his gaze returned to Linc. That's when she saw what had caught her uncle's eyes. The front of Linc's shirt was damp where it had absorbed the moisture from her wet swimsuit. Fortunately her uncle was too tactful to mention it.

“Was there something special you wanted to see me about?” he asked Linc.

“No. I just stopped to say hello.” Linc assured him there was no other purpose behind his visit other than a friendly one.

“Since you're here, why don't you stay for dinner?” Reece invited.

“No thanks.”

'That reminds me,” Joanna inserted quickly before her uncle could pursue that topic and possibly change Linc's mind. “I had lunch with Rachel Parmelee today.”

It was a subject guaranteed to attract her uncle's undivided attention. She saw the quick eagerness leap into his expression and light his dark eyes. The mere mention of her name brought an added warmth to his smile.

“Did you? How was she?” He tried to disguise his avid interest, but wasn't too successful.

“Fine.” Joanna paused to add impetus to her next statement. “I invited her to dinner Friday night.” She waited for the rush of elation in his expression but it never came. Instead he became guarded.

“Did she accept?” he questioned.

“Yes,” she assured him, pleased with her success. “It took a little persuading, but she finally agreed to come.”

It was several seconds before Reece said a rather bland, “Good.” It left her slightly stunned. She had expected him to rejoice at the news but he had practically no positive reaction at all. She was too confused to protest when he turned to Linc and asked, “Will you join us for dinner Friday evening to even out the numbers?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Linc accepted.

“What time did you tell Rachel?” he inquired with a glance at Joanna.

“I said dinner would be at seven and for her to
come any time before that,” she replied as confusion drew lines in her expression. “I thought you would prefer to contact her and make arrangements to pick her up.”

“Would you object to bringing Mrs. Parmelee, Linc?” Reece asked.

Like Joanna, Linc appeared slightly puzzled by the request, too. “If that's what you want,” he agreed to it.

“Thank you.”

There appeared to be a great many unanswered questions in Linc's eyes when he studied his friend but he didn't ask one of them. Instead he made his excuse to leave. “I'd better be getting back to the place.”

“It was good to see you, Linc.” For once her uncle didn't attempt to persuade him to stay or protest that it was early.

A fact that didn't escape Linc's notice either. “I'll see you on Friday.” His glance held hers for an instant. “Joanna,” he nodded in her direction before moving toward the front door.

When it closed behind him, she looked back at her uncle, still puzzled by his behavior. He seemed to deliberately avoid her eyes and assumed a preoccupation that indicated he had a great many important matters on his mind.

“Would you mind fixing the meal tonight, Joanna?” It was more in the order of a request than a question. “I have some things I must do. I'll be in the study.”

As he started to walk away without waiting for a response, she frowned and shook her head. “I
don't understand you,” she declared on a heavy breath of exasperation.

“Is something wrong?” His arched glance was too smooth.

“Something is, but I don't know what,” she admitted and went to the heart of the matter. “Aren't you
glad
Rachel is coming for dinner?”

“Of course.” Again there was an unnatural ease to his reply that completely lacked expression. “Are you upset because I invited Linc? Haven't the two of you patched up your differences yet?” His tone made it plain that he believed they had.

Joanna wouldn't be sidetracked from the real issue. “I don't care if he comes but I thought you'd welcome the chance to be alone with Rachel.”

“It was your invitation she accepted, not mine,” he stated.

That was the crux of the matter. Her mouth dropped open at this discovery her uncle was jealous that she had succeeded where he had failed. He disappeared into the study while she was still trying to find her voice.

Chapter Eight

L
ater on that evening, Joanna had the opportunity to explain to her uncle how the dinner invitation had come about and the reason she had been successful in persuading Rachel Parmelee to come. It had been a very one-sided conversation with Reece offering no comment and asking no questions. When it was over, she wasn't entirely sure that she had convinced him Rachel Parmelee's sole reason for accepting was based on a desire to spend the evening with him.

Ever since, he had been moody and preoccupied most of the time. He wasn't himself at all. Everything was left up to Joanna. He didn't offer any suggestions for the menu or help in any of the advance preparations for the meal.

The spinach salad was in the refrigerator
along with the trout in its broiling pan, ready to be slipped under the broiler. The potatoes were baking in the oven and the broccoli sat in its steaming pan on the range, while the peach cobbler cooled on a wire rack. Joanna checked it all one last time before entering the living room where she had set the table, complete with a white linen cloth, candles, and the best glass and silverware she could find.

The living room was too well lit, so she began a circuit of the room shutting off unnecessary lamps and leaving a strategic few on to create a more intimate atmosphere. The porch door opened and closed. Aware it was her uncle, Joanna didn't bother to look around.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“There were too many lights on.” She stopped beside the fireplace and a trace of regret flitted across her expression. “It's a pity it's July. It would be nice to have a fire blazing away.” Then she turned and smiled quickly. “You look very handsome tonight.”

Which he did. There was a casual sophistication to his simple attire of a plain silk shirt and dark slacks. It enhanced the silvered darkness of his hair and eyes, the leanness of his build.

He returned the compliment. “You look very lovely in that dress. Is it new?”

Reflex caused her to glance at the china blue tunic-style dress of crepe de chine, belted at the waist. It had an understated elegance to its basic style. She smoothed a hand over the practically wrinkle-free material.

“It's one I brought with me,” she explained.

When she looked up, she saw that he had once again become preoccupied. His attention was away from her as his glance skimmed the table set for four.

“You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble he said flatly.

“Why not? It's a special occasion,” Joanna insisted.

He glanced briefly at his gold watch. “She isn't coming.”

Reece sounded so positive that, for an instant, Joanna thought Rachel might have telephoned to cancel the invitation, but she hadn't heard the phone ring. She glanced at the wall clock above the kitchen cupboards, just visible through the archway, and saw it was half past six.

“The traffic is probably holding them up.” She found an excuse to explain why Rachel Parmelee and Linc hadn't arrived yet.

“She won't come,” he repeated. “You'll see.” He walked to the window to gaze at the lake, the lowering rays of the sun reflecting off its mirror surface.

Joanna sighed, but didn't try to argue with him.

The car traveled at a reduced speed over the rutted gravel road. Rachel Parmelee sat as stiff as a statue in the passenger seat, rarely looking to the right or left. Her hands were clasped tightly on the clutch purse in her lap, the knuckles
of her fingers showing white. Tension was written all over her expression.

“It's less than a mile now,” Linc informed her.

On the drive here, they had talked about everything but their destination. The weather had been discussed at great length; this summer's trade had been compared to last year's.

“I shouldn't have come,” Rachel blurted out the thought that had been on her mind ever since Linc had picked her up. She was embarrassed to discover she'd said it aloud.

“It's too late to turn back now,” he replied evenly.

“I'm sorry,” she apologized for her lack of poise. “I must sound like a silly schoolgirl on her first date.” That was the way she felt, painfully nervous and awkward, her stomach churning. It was absurd to be so close to tears.

“There's no reason to be nervous.” There was gentle humor in the warm look Linc Wilder gave her. “Reece won't bite—at least not on the first date.”

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