Kiss Me Crazy (24 page)

Kara scooted lower, saw just how fast he was responding to their reversed roles and grinned. “Deal?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope.” She wrapped her fingers around him and squeezed. He trembled, his thighs tightening underneath her. There was so much of him but she was determined to have him helpless and enthraled, just like he did to her. “Free or tied hands are your only choices tonight.”

She didn’t give him a chance to talk, but scooted down and took him into her mouth. His body jerked and trembled as she licked, stroked, and tugged. He caressed her face, her neck, forked his fingers through her hair. Kara slipped her hands around him, grasped his firm butt cheeks and pressed him closer. She heard a low rumble in his throat, felt the pressure of his hands on her head.

“Baby, slow down,” he ground out.

Kara lifted her head, ripped a silver foil and roled the lubricated latex over him. This time she didn’t complain when he gripped her hips, lifted her onto his lap and said, “Ride with me.” She sank slowly, taking him in one delicious inch at a time, and watched his eyes glaze. Even after their first love-making, she needed to get used to his size, to this new position. She moved up and down, slow and sensuous, then faster after they set a rhythm.

His hands were al over her. She used his shoulders for support, leaned down, and locked her mouth with his, pouring al her love and yearning into that single kiss. He grabbed her hips as their thrusting grew wilder and wilder.

She should have been prepared for the deep, wrenching climax that convulsed her entire body but she wasn’t. It plunged her over the edge but Baron was there with her, his triumphant shout mingling with hers.

He buried his face against her throat, both of them trembling, breathing harshly and mumbling soothing words under their breaths. She stroked his arm, neck, face, hair, while he held on to her as though afraid to let her go. They stayed like that for a very long time, bodies in perfect harmony, hearts speaking to each other.

Kara thought he’d falen asleep until he said hesitantly, “Did I hurt you?”

She lifted her head. “No, you were amazing.”

“Then why are you crying?”

She swiped at her cheek, surprised to find wetness. “I didn’t know.”

He grinned. “Ah, so you cry when you come?”

“No…yes, I guess.”

He kissed her, ran a hand up and down her back. “First time, huh?”

Arrogant man, but he was hers. For now. “No. It was intense and…and…”

“Mind numbing?”

That too. She laughed. “Don’t let it go to your head.” He chuckled, nuzzling her neck. “I’d never dare but I now have a standard to measure how intense your—” She kissed him to shut him up and he roled them until he was on top, taking charge al over again. She felt him grow inside her and started to laugh. He lifted his head. “What?”

“It’s nothing.”

He kissed her smiling mouth and disappeared in the bathroom again. Kara stretched, looked at the clock, and smiled. It was past midnight yet she’d never felt so awake. Was this how it was going to be in Idaho? She hoped so because Baron Fitzgerald was one addictive man. Her only hope was she’d get her fil and not mope around like a lovestruck idiot once it was over. She got up and switched off the lights, curled under the comforter and waited for her man to rejoin her.

***

The flight to Spokane was less than three hours. The last leg to Sandpoint on a chartered plane was even shorter and smoother than Kara expected. She’d never liked smal planes but Baron kept her pre-occupied.

The view as they approached Sandpoint was breathtaking

—the sun-kissed low range alpine mountains with jagged outcrops, meandering streams, and the pristine Lake Pend Oreile dotted with smal islands. After the heat and the smog of L.A., she looked forward to moderate temperatures and plenty of fresh air.

The airport was smal, appeared to cater to private and rental planes. Baron spoke to someone on his cel phone then led her to the parking lot where a young man whom he introduced as the housekeeper’s nephew waited by a rental SUV.

It took about thirty minutes to drive to East Hope. Kara looked around in amazement when Baron parked the SUV outside a large stone and cedar house. The property was right by the waterfront and secluded by mature Ponderosa pine trees.

“I thought it was an itty-bitty cottage,” she said.

Baron shrugged. “This is Bridget’s idea of a summer slash winter cottage. I’l get our bags later.” He grabbed her hand. “I want to show you something first.”

He led her toward the waterfront. The compound was wel-maintained and a gazebo sat to their right between the house and the lake. The sun was setting, its yelow rays bouncing off the dark surface of the water and casting a warm radiance on the surrounding pines and homes.

They walked to the gravel beach and onto the private pier, where a boat rested on launch stilts under a canopy. Baron stopped, wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her flush to his chest. Kara nestled against him, his warmth warding off the cool evening breeze drifting across the lake. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.

“What do you think?”

“About?” she said without opening her eyes.

“The view, the sunset….”

She opened her eyes and smiled. “It’s breathtaking.” Further on to their left was some kind of a marina with several boats bobbing in the water. But as far as she could see, along either sides of the lake were homes and private piers. Kara pointed at several smaler islands to their right. “Are those inhabited?”

“I’m not sure but I know one is a sanctuary for eagles.

We’l take out the boat tomorrow for a closer look.” He dropped his head and nuzzled her neck. “You think you can stand living here for two weeks?”

Was he kidding? As long as he was around, they could be in a tent in the Sahara for al she cared. Kara turned in his arms and looked into his handsome face kissed by the sunset glow. “With you, yes.”

His head dropped and claimed her mouth in a gentle kiss that quickly mushroomed into a smoldering inferno.

“Let’s go inside.” His voice was rough with need.

The back of the house had a large deck with a patio table with an umbrela and chairs, and low wal surrounding it. Beautiful large view windows, through which she could see a long dining table and chairs, dominated the front of the house. And from the looks of things, the VanderMarcks didn’t bother with curtains.

Baron unlocked the back door and the spicy aroma of home cooking wafted to their noses, reminding Kara she hadn’t eaten anything since they left L.A. “Something smels good.”

“Mrs. Frisk said she’d left something in the oven for us.

Why don’t you have a look around while I bring our bags inside?” Furnished with old yet comfortable furniture and dominated by a huge fireplace, the room had an open floor plan with vaulted ceiling. The living/dining room took up most of the space with the kitchen area to the left. There was no carpeting or area rugs on the stone floor, and no spectacular display of antiques. A vase here, a mask there, and a painting that could be a master’s work of art sat over the fireplace and that was al.

Kara curbed the urge to rush through the rooms in search of Bridget’s stash of colectibles and folowed her nose to the kitchen.

The stove, embedded in the kitchen island, was set on warm. She opened the door and lifted the corner of the aluminum foil covering a baking pan to discover lasagna.

“What is it?” Baron asked as he passed the room with her bags.

“Lasagna…it looks scrumptious.”

“My favorite dish, Mrs. Frisk knows.”

Kara was tempted to folow him to find out just how often he came to this house but chose to explore the kitchen instead. She was happy to see the fridge fuly stocked and a walk-in pantry with canned foods. Her culinary skils were minimal.

“You want to pick a bedroom?” Baron asked as he stored his cameras in the alcove across from the living room.

“Sure.” Not once had the thought of their sleeping arrangements crossed Kara’s mind. She’d assumed they’d sleep together but Baron obviously thought otherwise.

Trying not to be too disappointed, she left the kitchen and folowed a halway to an already opened door. It led to a spacious bedroom with a spectacular view of the lake, a private patio with a hammock and a large bathroom with a jetted tub. Her bags were by the bed. After exploring, Kara discovered two walk-in closets, both empty.

She left the room and opened the next door. Another bedroom, smaler, the view not quite as impressive and the gazebo got in the way. The third room faced the back of the house. Al she saw through the window were trees and the highway in the background. The last door, which was closer to the living room, turned out to be the study. Books occupied a shelf on one wal and opposite it had DVDs.

Kara returned to the bigger bedroom. Baron’s bags were beside hers, she noted. Not sure what that meant, she pressed the king-size bed with her fingers then flopped on it face up. It was comfortable.

Baron brought in the last item, his guitar case. He placed it down and joined her, his gaze on her face. “You like this one?”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts. I prefer it too. There’re two empty closets, take one, I’l take the other.” He planted a kiss on her lips and jumped up. “I’m starved. I’l set the table while you sit back and—”

“Do you mean we’l share a room?” Kara interrupted him, sitting up.

“Damn right we are. I want you in my arms when I go to sleep and your face to be the first thing I see in the morning.” He cocked an eyebrow, his expression chalenging. “If you have a problem with that then—”

“None whatsoever.” Kara grinned. How could she possibly object to such a romantic declaration? And she had no intention of sitting back while he catered to her. They were equal partners in this. “I’l help you set the table.”

“Hey gorgeous,” Baron whispered in Kara’s ear. She mumbled something uninteligible and puled the sheet over her head, the fine cotton fabric draping her nude body.

He ran his fingers down her back through the material but she only burrowed deeper. Taking things up a notch, he zeroed in on her side, under her arm, her stomach.

Kara squealed and writhed, arms and legs flaying until she caught his wrists and glared at him. “Why are you tormenting me so early in the morning?”

“It’s after ten, and you,” he ran his gaze down and up her naked body, “are my breakfast.” He dropped his head to kiss her.

Kara shifted toward the headboard, neatly evading his kiss, grabbed the sheet, and tucked it under her armpit. He grinned. Her attempt at modesty was so endearing.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Kara peered at the windows. Unlike the living room, the bedrooms had heavy drapes designed to keep the sun out. “Are you sure it’s after ten?”

“Yep.” He picked up her glasses and passed them to her.

He watched her put them on and grinned. There was something vulnerable about her when she wore them. “But I didn’t want to wake you up because you were dreaming about me.” She raised her brow. “You? How would you know?”

“You wore that smile…” The smel of something burning reached him. “Damn, the toast.” He jumped off the bed and ran to the kitchen.

He threw the burnt pieces in the garbage and dropped four more slices of bread into the toaster. That was his second attempt.

He’d have to stay put or risk running out of bread. The bacon could use a little more time on the fire but he wasn’t chancing it. He turned off the heat and swept them onto a plate. Next, he added a little margarine in the bacon pan and opened the carton of eggs.

He was scooping the cooked eggs onto two plates when Kara wandered into the kitchen looking sexy in cut-off jeans and a white tank top, hair wet from the shower.

“What are you making?” she asked, walking to his side.

“Eggs…bacon.” He sniffed the air. “Can’t you smel the aroma?”

She grimaced at the scrambled yelow mass on their plates.

“It looks, uh, interesting.”

He dropped a kiss on her lips. “Cooked the Fitzgerald way.

Are you hungry?”

“Starving.” She retrieved a mug from a cupboard, poured herself coffee, and added vanila nondairy creamer then watched him transfer the toast onto a plate. “You should have woken me up to help.”

He arranged everything on a tray. “I wanted to surprise you. Mrs. Frisk won’t be here for hours so let’s crawl back in bed, eat this, and pick up where we left off last night....no, this morning.” He winked at her.

“You promised to discuss the artwork this morning. Play time is over.”

He tweaked her nose. “You’re no fun. Here.” He gave her a bottle of orange juice to carry, picked up the tray, and led the way to the table on the deck. He placed everything within their reach then made a grand sweeping gesture as he puled out her chair. “Breakfast…is served.”

“Thank you.” Kara sat, forked and gingerly placed a morsel of scrambled eggs in her mouth. She made a funny face but continued to chew. When she swalowed, she reached for her coffee and took a gulp.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She smiled.

Frowning, Baron tasted a forkful of the eggs and winced.

Crunchy. “How the hel did the egg shels get in there?” Kara smiled. “Don’t worry about it. It happens.” Maybe it was because he’d cracked the eggs straight into the pan. “I should have agreed to the damn lessons.” He didn’t realize he’d spoken out aloud until Kara said,

“What lessons?”

“Chase offered to teach me a few cooking tricks but after a few attempts, I gave up. I sucked.”

Kara gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I bet he can’t tel the difference between, uh, a Van Gogh and Gauguin. Same landscapes, same period.” She took another scoop of her eggs then reached for a piece of toast and spread a thin layer of jam on it.

Kara appeared determined to appreciate his offering however inedible. If he didn’t already adore her, he would be worshipping at her feet right now. He folowed her example and picked up a piece of toast.

“Speaking of artists, when can I see the colection? Are the pieces locked up in a secret room or something? I only noticed a few pieces out and they’re, uh—”

“Not impressive. I know.” Baron gave up the pretense of eating and piled his plate and Kara’s back onto the tray. She didn’t protest. He tried the bacon. A little chewy but not bad. “Before I explain, can we agree that I must stay away from anything that requires cooking?”

She chuckled. “Okay.”

“But I can stil heat canned and boxed foods or make a mean sandwich with cold cuts, so don’t give up on me yet. We also have hot and cold cereals, and Mrs. Frisk wil be here in the afternoons to make dinner and twice a week to clean the house and do laundry.”

“Sounds great.”

“I don’t want you to think you have to cook or anything.

We can eat out, get takeout. They have some realy good restaurants in Hope and Sand—”

Kara put her finger on his lips. “It’s okay. I don’t mind being in charge of breakfast or making us something to eat. I’m not up to your brother’s class but I can stil mix and bake.” He kissed her finger and smiled. “You’re priceless. Now about the colection….”

He explained the mess with Jake VanderMarck and finished with, “Bridget dropped al charges but when I talked to the cop in charge of the case, he said they’d need a couple of days to finish the paperwork before he can close the case and return the pieces to us.”

“Why didn’t you tel me about this before?”

“You were in San Diego with your sister and I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Does that mean we aren’t doing anything for at least two days?”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh, we’ve plenty to do. I’l be your tour guide.”

She roled her eyes. “Okay, Mr. One Track Mind. Do you want me to prepare something for breakfast?” Her gaze shifted to the tray. “Maybe more eggs and bacon?”

“No.” He leaned forward and gave her a kiss. “We’re going to town for breakfast. Get dressed while I get the boat ready.”