Lancelot's Lady (17 page)

"
Aren
'
t you worried about Misty?
"
she asked, trying to ignore the sharp sting of cold.

"
Usually I have a radio for emergencies.
"

She blushed.
"
Oh, yeah…sorry.
"

Jonathan shrugged.
"
This isn
'
t an emergency.
"
He made a beeline for a kitchen cabinet.
"
Drink?
"

"
Sure.
"
She took the opportunity to stuff her nightshirt and panties into the cushions behind her.

A few minutes later, Jonathan returned.
"
I hope rum and orange juice is okay. It
'
s all I
'
ve got here.
"

"
It
'
s fine. Thank you.
"

As he passed the glass to her, their hands met. A spark of electricity shot between them.

"
Sorry, it
'
s the carpet,
"
he murmured.

I don
'
t think so,
she wanted to say.

Jonathan
'
s eyes flashed, as though he knew what she was thinking and was calling her on it.

Coward!

Unable to stand the tension, Rhianna blurted,
"
What were you painting?
"

"
What are you talking about?
"

She pointed to the cloth covered easel.
"
That.
"

Jonathan frowned.
"
So you
were
spying on me.
"

"
Not spying exactly, just…
"
She fumbled for an explanation.
"
Just checking to see if anyone was here.
"

"
The fact that the
 
light was on should
'
ve told you that.
"

She mentally kicked herself.
"
I guess it should
'
ve.
"

"
Hmm…
"

"
What do you mean,
hmm
?
"
She gave him a mocking smile.
"
You think I
'
m some James Bond spy, here to steal your precious art so I can sell it on the black market?
"

"
The thought never crossed my mind.
"

But Rhianna could tell by his guilty expression it had.

"
Listen, Picasso…I don
'
t know the first thing about art or paintings, other than whether I like them or not. You can rest easy. I won
'
t be making off with your treasures in the middle of the night.
"

"
Of course you won
'
t.
"
At her questioning look, Jonathan added,
"
There
'
s no boat. Remember?
"

"
How can I forget?
"
She paused.
"
You didn
'
t answer my question. What are you painting?
"

He grabbed a bath sheet from a hook and wrapped it around his waist before answering.
"
I haven
'
t started it yet. I
'
m waiting for…inspiration.
"

"
So is this what you do for a living? Paint?
"

"
You could say that.
"
He sat down in the chair across from her and stared at the wall behind her head.

"
Can I see some of your work?
"

Surprise flickered in his eyes.
"
I never show anything until it
'
s in a gallery. Call it superstition, but I don
'
t need any more bad luck.
"

She raised her chin.
"
Are you saying
I
'
m
bad luck?
"

"
Rhianna, you
'
re the queen of bad luck.
"
He grinned at her.
"
Whether you
'
re bad luck to me, we
'
ll have to see.
"

Rising from the chair, he flipped the ice pack.

"
God, that
'
s freezing,
"
she hissed.

"
I can warm you up.
"

His gaze devoured her and she gulped in a breath.

"
I should go back to the house,
"
she said.

"
Then I
'
ll carry you back.
"

"
No,
"
she said quickly.
"
I
'
m sure I can walk now. It
'
s not very far.
"

Rhianna made it three steps before her ankle gave out. Thankfully Jonathan was right behind her or she would have ended up on the floor. This time she made no protest when he lifted her into his arms.

Neither of them said a word as they approached the house. Jonathan carried her upstairs to her bedroom and set her down on the bed.

"
Thank you,
"
she said.

"
For what?
"

"
For rescuing me. And carrying me here.
"

"
No problem.
"

As he moved to the door, she said,
"
Lancelot
'
s Landing is a very fitting name for this property.
"

"
Why do you say that?
"

"
You know,
"
she said with an awkward laugh.
"
Sir Lancelot, brave knight rescues the maiden and all?
"

He bowed low, the towel threatening to slip off.
"
At your service, milady.
"

She let out an unladylike snort.
"
Somehow I don
'
t see Lancelot in a towel.

Jonathan
'
s eyes narrowed.
"
What
do
you see him in?
"

There was no way Rhianna was going to touch that.

"
Good night, Jonathan.
"

"
Sleep well…milady.
"

When the door closed behind him, she let out a pent up breath.

"
I can warm you up,
"
he
'
d said.

"
I bet you can,
"
she murmured.

Chapter 17

Rhianna awoke to the chatter of tropical birds. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was after ten in the morning. She
'
d slept in.

"
Damn!
"
she muttered. Misty must be wondering where the heck she was.

She threw off the covers and tentatively tested her foot. A dull ache settled around her ankle, but it was bearable. The good news was she could walk.

Quickly dressing, Rhianna went downstairs in search of her young charge and a pot of coffee.

"
Misty?
"

The house was unusually quiet.

As she entered the kitchen, she expected to see Misty at the table, coloring or playing with her Barbies. But the table was empty except for some fresh flowers in a vase, a carafe of steaming coffee and a clean mug.

"
Bring on the caffeine,
"
she mumbled.

She caught sight of a note on the fridge door.

Rhianna, I hope your ankle is better. I decided not to wake you this morning. Take the day off. The Atkinsons are looking after Misty, so put your foot up and relax. I
'
m taking my easel down to the beach. See you later tonight. By the way, thanks for the mementos. Jonathan
.

Mementos? What the heck was he talking about?

Something twinged in the back of Rhianna
'
s mind and a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach made her moan.

"
Oh no…I left my panties and bra in his studio.
"

Chewing her bottom lip, she thought of her options. She could wait for Jonathan to return her clothes. That would turn her a few shades of red. Or she could sneak into the cabin while he was painting at the beach.

He
'
ll never know I was there.

Slipping her feet carefully into a pair of sandals, she headed for the door. As she limped across the lawn, mindful of her sore ankle, her head bobbed left, then right. God, she hoped no one would see her entering Jonathan
'
s cabin.

At the cabin door, she hesitated.

What if he
'
s still inside?

She knocked.
"
Jonathan? You in there?
"

Silence.

Relieved, she eased open the door. The easel was gone.

"
Okay. Do this before he gets back.
"
She frowned.
"
So where are my clothes?
"

She checked the kitchen area, the floor, even the bathroom. Her clothes were nowhere to be seen. The only thing she could think of was that perhaps Jonathan had already brought them back to the house.

With a moan,
she slumped into the armchair.
"
Why couldn
'
t I have left behind a ratty sweater―or socks?
"

Heavy footsteps sounded on the porch.

Her heart did a back flip.
Oh crap.

Jonathan stomped into the cabin, muttering under his breath. He shoved the easel and canva
s against the wall by the door and dropped a tool box on the floor.

He straightened, finally noticing her.

"
Jesus Christ, Rhianna!
"

She gave him a coy smile.
"
Did I startle you?
"

"
What are you doing here?
"

"
I, uh, came to get some things I left behind.
"

"
Ah,
"
he said, his pinched expression relaxing.
"
I almost brought them to the house this morning.
"

"
Why didn
'
t you?
"

He smiled.
"
I knew you
'
d come get them.
"

The air was charged with electricity. Rhianna could feel the sparks on her skin.

"
So where are they?
"
Her voice was raspy.

"
Hanging on the back of the bathroom door.
"

"
I didn
'
t put them there,
"
she said, her cheeks aflame.

Jonathan shrugged.
"
I didn
'
t want your lingerie to get covered in paint.
"

"
I
'
ll get them and be out of your way.
"

Rhianna disappeared into the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with the nightshirt and panties balled up in her hands.

"
Bye,
"
she mumbled.

"
Wait.
"

When she turned, she was shocked by the conflicting expressions in his eyes. Frustration mixed with hunger lurked beneath the surface. Both were dangerous.

She should leave.
Now!
Otherwise, he was going to take what he wanted. She could see it in the way he stared, the way he clenched his hands at his side, as if afraid he
'
d touch her.

She held her breath.

"
I knew you were naked under that robe,
"
he said, wiping his forehead with the back of a hand.

She gulped in a breath.
"
I don
'
t
think―
"

"
When I look at you,
"
he interrupted,
"
I feel I can paint anything.
"

"
Then what
'
s stopping you?
"

"
You.
"

"
Me.
"

Jonathan took a step closer.
"
You
'
re all I
'
ve been able to think about lately. And now I know what I need to paint.
"

"
What?
"

The corners
of his mouth lifted.
"
You.
"

She gaped at him.
"
Why would you want to do that?
"

"
Because you
'
re beautiful.
"

At first, she didn
'
t know how to reply. In a small voice, she said,
"
You need glasses.
"

"
Don
'
t you know how beautiful you are?
"

She snorted.
"
I bet you say that to all the ladies.
"

"
There
'
s only you and Mrs. Atkinson around,
"
he said dryly.
"
And somehow I don
'
t think Marvin would appreciate me hitting on his wife.
"

"
Is that what you
'
re doing? Hitting on me?
"

The words were out of her mouth before she could contemplate the ramifications.

Jonathan
'
s eyes narrowed.
"
If I were hitting on you, I
'
d give you more than a bad line.
"

There was no breathable air in the room.

Rhianna stood rooted to the floor as he approached her in slow, deliberate steps, his eyes locked on hers and filled with smoldering passion.

"
If I were hitting on you,
"
he said,
"
I
'
d tell you how stunningly beautiful you are, that you have the most amazing green eyes I
'
ve ever seen.
"

Warm hands caressed her face as he lowered his head.

"
If I were hitting on you,
"
he whispered,
"
I
'
d kiss you again and again.
"

And he did.

Jonathan
'
s lips met hers with an urgency that scared her. But this time Rhianna didn
'
t pull away. When he moved closer, she met him halfway. Their lips locked in a passionate kiss that took away all sense of time and place. There was only now.
This
time.
This
place.

Jonathan tasted of strawberries. His mouth devoured hers, drawing her away from her skin until she was a quivering mass of desire.

He groaned.
"
What do you want, Rhianna?
"

I want you…

She parted her lips, inviting him in.

"
I can
'
t stop thinking of you,
"
he whispered against her throat.

She moaned as his lips drifted lower, teasing her, while his fingers flipped through the buttons of her shirt and peeled it away. Her bra quickly followed, along with the clothing in her hands.

Sapphire eyes caressed her.

"
You
'
re so beautiful,
"
he said.

In a moment of shyness, Rhianna tried to cover her breasts, but Jonathan caught her hands and kissed her hard.

"
I want you,
"
he said, nipping at her lower lip.

Old fears resurfaced, but she pushed them aside. This was
her
time. Time to experience passion the way it was meant to be experienced. Time to take that final step, to learn what she
'
d been missing all these years.

He stared deep into her eyes, an unspoken question on the tip of his tongue. When his mouth claimed hers in a breathless kiss, she gave him his answer.

Yes…

Wasting no time, Jonathan swung her into his arms and carried her to the sofa where he eased her onto the cushions. Hovering over her, he said,
"
Are you sure?
"

In answer, she reached up and drew him down, her gaze never leaving his. What she felt now couldn
'
t be wrong. She felt beautiful, desirable…whole.

"
Yes,
"
she whispered.

He bent his head and kissed the inside contour of her breasts. Hot kisses rained over them, searing them. Then he blew across one nipple, causing it to go rigid.

Rhianna gripped the cushions beneath her.

"
Please…
"
she moaned.

Jonathan
'
s mouth captured a nipple and she cried out. The sensation of his wet mouth and soft tongue on her sensitive nipple made her gasp and arch her back in response.

Had she died and gone to heaven?

The throbbing between her legs intensified until she couldn
'
t stand it any longer.
"
Oh God…
"

He moaned against her breast.

Jesus! What was he doing to her?

Shivers of intense pleasure raced through her. She was adrift on a sea of ecstasy that pushed her higher.

Jonathan reached down, one hand sliding between their bodies. Heat radiated from his hand through her jeans, scorching her skin. When he cupped the source of her frenzied yearning, she knew she was at the peak of something wonderful.

"
I want to touch all of you,
"
he said hoarsely.

When Rhianna was completely naked, Jonathan studied her with an intensity that bewildered her.

She had never felt so exposed.

~ * ~

Jonathan peeled off his own clothing, unable to calm his racing thoughts. This was what he
'
d been waiting for.
Rhianna
was what he
'
d been waiting for.

My muse.

Heart pounding, he studied her. He took in the luxurious locks of auburn hair that partially covered her breasts. Her stomach was flat and smooth, her hips gently rounded.