Shadows (24 page)

She broke the kiss and nuzzled the line of his jaw.  “You missed the crème brûlée, Rory.  It was to die for.  I think Christophe is on the verge of being ill.”

Rory jerked his head up and away from her.  Could she not forget the dratted Frenchman for two minutes?

Melissa peered up into his face.  “What is it?  Tell me.”

Rory cleared his throat.  “You fancy this Frenchman, don't you?”  The words came out as a growl.

Melissa offered a slow smile.  “Of course not.”  Then she reached up and placed her arms around his neck.  “But I do feel sorry for him.  He seems so overpowered by this thing, whatever it is.”  Her palms smoothed the contours of his shoulders.  “He is not for me.”

Hearing her words, smoldering beneath her touch, he began to believe again.  Emboldened, he slipped his hands around her waist and held her lightly.  “Do they scare you, these ghosts?”

They stood in the doorway, their bodies touching while his warm hands moved and spread across her spine.  He drew her closer.

Her laughter vibrated against his chest.  “At this moment, while your arms are around me, nothing could scare me.  But if I were here on my own, and Pierre, or Justine appeared, my hair would stand on end, and I’d want to get away from them.  Of course I’d be scared.  I am scared.  It’s only natural.  They don’t live in this world.  They died more than two hundred years ago.  But they don’t give me such a sense of doom as they do Christophe.”

“It is such a relief to be on our own.”  Rory nuzzled her ear.  “I love you, Blue Eyes.”  He hadn't meant to say it, but the words slipped out, and he didn't regret them.

Melissa looked up, scuffled off her sandals, stepped daintily onto his smart leather loafers and immediately gained three inches in height.

Rory tightened his grip.  Surely she would reciprocate?  He needed to know she cared about him.  Needed it badly.  Such uncertainty drove him wild.

She closed the distance with a slow, lingering kiss.

But did not say she loved him.  Rory, hurt, noted it.  In the space of three heartbeats, electricity buzzed in the air around his head as if someone had clicked a switch.  He welcomed it, drowned in it, ignored the dismay of knowing she wasn’t prepared to say she loved him.  Perhaps the words would come in time.

He could only hold her.  Melissa clasped his face in both hands and devoured his mouth.  His heartbeat thundered, this was going much too fast.  He wrenched his head free.  “For God’s sake, Melissa.”

She pulled back a little, and regarded him with a smile.  “Don’t stop.”

The pulse in his throat echoed in his ears.  “I don’t want to stop.  You know that.”

The smile made her eyes warm and soft.

She had him, hook, line and sinker.  Shifting his position, with some plan to sweep her off her feet and carry her to bed, he faced the doorway.  Movement caught his attention.  “Good God.”

Melissa leant forward in time to catch the slight, dark figure slipping through the moonlight and shadow that spattered the lane.

“There’s something—my car’s not there.  Where’s my car?”  Rory stared around in bewilderment.  How could his car have disappeared?  It was impossible.

He tried to shake her loose.

“Wait. Wait.”  Melissa held on, her voice urgent against his ear. 

Rory drew breath, but Melissa clapped her hand over his mouth.  “No, don’t shout.  Look.”

She pointed.  From the other side of the mill, coming down the old grass track, a small, puny light gleamed in the darkness, bobbed toward the mill and then settled just above the ground.  Melissa drew in a hasty breath.  “It’s them.  He’s come to meet her.”

“Is nowhere safe from these two?”

Melissa gripped Rory’s arm, her gaze on the two shadows as they met, whirled and melded into one.

“They do seem to be in love, though, don’t they?”

Rory’s innards twisted.  “What about you?  Is he kissing you as well as her?”

Melissa shrugged.  “I’m not feeling anything from them.  I wonder what would happen if we just walked towards them?”

Rory grasped her hand, and walked out of the doorway, across the bolly hand in hand toward the dark, entwined shadows.  Almost at once, the two pale faces melted away into the darkness.

There were no strange sensations as he passed the spot where the couple had been, but both he and Melissa gasped when the yellow sports car suddenly shimmered back into view.

“Will you look at that?”  Rory stared at his car.  “We should have walked over there.  Would we have collided with it, do you think?”

“Perhaps ignoring them is the best way to deal with it.”  Melissa looked over her shoulder as she walked back into the mill.

Rory locked the door behind him and tossed the keys onto the kitchen counter.  “It’s certainly something I heartily endorse.  Let’s not bother with coffee.”

Melissa recognized Rory’s clear invitation, and his hesitation.  She’d also seen the disappointment in his eyes when she hadn’t responded to his declaration.  Not yet.  When this is over and everything was clear, then she would say the words he wanted to hear.  When she was sure of him.  And sure of herself.

She let him lead her slowly into the bedroom, where moonlight shone through the lace curtain at the windows and transferred the pattern onto the plain white bed sheet.

Rory’s arms came around her.  The heat of his body warmed her and his mouth almost touched her ear.  “When you lie down, you will wear the lace.”

Her stomach curled up in pleasure.  “Oh, Rory…”  She turned to face him, reaching for him.

Solemnly he undid the large buttons of her dress with care and let it drop to the floor.  When his large hands brushed her skin, a shiver ran through her from head to toe.  When he tipped her gently onto the bed, she did not object, but curled her legs beneath her and moved over, waiting for him.

He hesitated, looking down at her with a smile.  “You wear the lace very well indeed, my darling.”

She glanced down.  The moonlight patterned her body in silver and shadow.  Instead of hiding away, she lifted her arm and watched the patterns play on her skin, then let her palm trailed across the curve of her hip.

A tremor ran through him.  “You are amazing.”  He hauled his shirt over his head, tossed it toward the chair in the corner of the room without taking his gaze from her.  The rest of his clothes fell anywhere and he lowered his head and charged toward her through the moonlight like a rugby player about to make a tackle.

Melissa jerked upright.  “Rory.  No.”

She yelped as he landed beside her, and then collapsed in giggles.  “I see the wine got to you, too.”

He rolled her over and covered her in kisses.  “You are adorable.”  He seized her ear between his teeth and bit down.

The sharp little pain surprised her.  “Ow.  That hurt.”

He let go, gave her ear a quick lick of contrition and gazed at her mouth.  “I want to kiss you.  To really, really kiss you.”

“I think I guessed.”  She stroked her palms up and down his arms, spinning dizzily in the warmth and scent of him.  He lowered his mouth slowly over hers.  Her questing fingers found the long muscles of his back. His hand wandered over her hip and thigh, moved inwards and settled close to the warmest part of her.  She sighed, slid her mouth sideways and bit into his shoulder, licked the saltiness of him.  “You taste good.”  She arched backward as his fingers moved, causing ripples of pleasure.

“You like that?”  His tongue traced a wet line on the stretched curve of her throat.

She moaned.  “Do it again.”

Stretching out across the bed, she let him look at her and gloried in his admiration.  Her breasts tingled and tightened and when his lips grazed a hard nipple, her gasp echoed around the room.  Her hand closed on the back of his skull and dragged his mouth up to hers.

He stretched a long arm toward the bedside table.  As he slowly sheathed himself, the ache inside her grew and expanded.  A small sound came from her throat.  Thankful that he cared, she pressed her mouth against the strong muscles of his neck, curled her foot over his knee and lifted her hips.

Her move made him groan in pleasure.  “Oh, Christ.”  He flipped the empty package away.  “And to think I suspected you were a virgin—”

A virgin?  She almost giggled, shook her head and did not ask why.  “Really?  You should never, ever go by appearances.  They are so-o-o-o deceptive.”

“I agree.  I thought of doing this the moment Jonny introduced us.”

He looked down at the small, taut cylinder of flesh standing proud under his thumb, ducked his head and flicked his tongue over her nipple.  The shock of pleasure made her moan out loud, and she slid one hand down his belly and took her revenge in the sweetest way possible.  Gripping him hard, her hand rubbed back and forth until he collapsed back on the pillows, gasping.  She half raised and rolled toward him, her breasts pricking against his chest.  Delighted with her new-found freedom, she moved slowly until she straddled his thighs.

She rested her hands on his chest, used her muscles and enjoyed the twitch of pleasure he could not control.  Slowly she bent and tasted his lips, maneuvered gently into place and slid down over him.  Waves of excitement shivered through her.

He held her hips as she slowly, so very slowly, rose up over him, hesitated and then swept down.  He groaned as she rose and fell again, and once more, then, with heat bursting through his skin, he grabbed her hips to hold her in place, rolled and swung her down on to the bed.  Still deeply within her, he held off no longer.

Loosened by wine, certain she loved him, her old inhibitions flew out of the window and vanished into the darkness.  Wide-mouthed, she bit his throat and tasted salt.  He stiffened, sucked in a rapid gulp of air and thrust within her.  Energy built and she panted encouragement in his ear, soon breathing as if running for her life.

He gave a final, hard fast series of thrusts and Melissa clamped her legs around and hung on, held him, pressed him into her and thrust her face against his neck as her own spasms followed his.  He crushed her against him and she rode on the bellows of his chest until his breathing calmed and steadied.

~~~

Rory lay asleep beside her.

Most mornings at the mill he had been up and dressed before she awoke.  She lay quietly, traced the outline of his sleeping form with a loving eye.  A quiver of excitement shot through her loins when she remembered how hard he had worked last night.

Her limbs lay light and loose, every hint of tension vanished.  The sun shone, the sky was blue and the whole atmosphere of the mill had changed since last night.

He had been jealous about Christophe, but maintained control of himself up to the point where he had walked out of the restaurant.  She had made her own demands of him once back at the mill.  The thought of making love in the moonlight made her inner muscles clench.  Her confidence had grown in leaps and bounds in the last week, and that was such a good thing, for Rory was a man who clearly enjoyed bodily pleasures.

Must be the influence of France.  Or the ghosts.  Melissa got out of bed, grabbed a tee shirt and knickers from her bag and crept into the kitchen, which was blissfully empty.  In an old house with resident ghosts, one never knew what to expect.

Coffee filtered smoothly, toast browned evenly and she took the tray back into the bedroom and woke Rory with a slow, gentle kiss.  He was bleary eyed but a gulp of hot coffee soon had him shuffling upright in the bed.  “What a night.”  His voice was husky.  He tweaked the hem of her tee shirt.  “You’re dressed already.  That’s a pity.  We could have…never mind.  You’re going to the library today with Christophe.  Yes?”

Melissa nodded, and hoped he wasn't going to be difficult about the plan.

“And what was I supposed to be doing?”  He yawned, and ran a hand over his dark, stubble-covered jaw.  He sipped his coffee.  Unshaven and unshowered, he looked rumpled and tired.

Melissa’s eyes opened wide as she munched her toast.  “Whatever you like.  You could help with the search.  Many hands, and all that.”