Something in the Water... (5 page)

He was impressed. “The plot thickens.”

“Meaning?”

“I thought you were home for a family vacation.”

“That, too.”

But she had ambition.

“And in addition to keeping you off my turf,” she continued, “I need to find a missing recipe book. It’s old, treasured by my family. It contains all Matilda’s recipes, was written by her own hand. People have tried to steal it for years, as my grandmother suggested downstairs, but now, someone’s broken into the safe, and taken it.” She paused. “So you see,” she finished, “I don’t have time for flirtation.”

His heart missed another beat. “Flirtation wasn’t really what I had in mind.”

“No?”

He slowly shook his head. Primal heat flared inside him. Barely able to believe he was doing it—he was
usually a little more suave—he glanced pointedly toward the bed. “Flirtation,” he murmured, raising a finger to touch her cheek once more. “It does seem like a waste of time.”

She blinked, as if she couldn’t quite believe the conversation they were having, then answering desire sparked in her eyes and she said the very last thing he expected. “Then let’s not waste any more of it.”

Scarcely believing his ears, Rex leaned across the scant remaining foot between them, circled an arm around her waist and drew her against himself, almost gasping as they made contact. She had a strong body. Probably, she worked out, and the muscles and bones felt equally hard, and yet she yielded to him, too, with a female softness. He arched to her, and as his mouth covered hers, she lifted her hands to his shoulders.

His tongue pushed apart her lips, and belatedly, he realized his kiss was too hard, too demanding. He didn’t even know her. They’d met only moments before. Maybe Romeo was in the water, after all. Maybe he’d become infected as he’d splashed in the chlorinated pool. Why had he gone swimming? Usually, he was much more rigorous at a possibly infected site. But it had seemed so hot, and the proprietors hadn’t been around, and…

Jessica would kill him if she knew.

But right now, he didn’t even care. His hands tightened around Ariel’s back, urging her closer, as her tongue moved against his, feeling silken, hot and delicious. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, then he felt them on his bare back, moving toward the elastic band of his trunks.

He wanted to remove her jacket again. And as he imagined using his teeth to unbutton the flimsy silk blouse, and his tongue to lick inside the lace of the bra, blood engorged him.

When she broke the kiss, he was half-glad. At least one of them had come to their senses. Except that, honestly, he wanted to spiral back downward into the whirlpool of the kiss and spend all night drowning in it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, breathlessly. “I don’t know what…came over me.”

If he reached for her, she’d let him kiss her again, right now. He knew it and she knew it. Even as she took another self-protective step backward, she was licking her lips, tasting his moisture.

“I do,” he managed to say huskily, slowly shaking his head, barely able to believe the kinetic heat that had ignited between them. “We want each other.”

Her skin was flushed, her breath short. “Like I said,” she continued, her voice holding a quiver that indicated she was just as shaken as him. “I’m worried about my project. And you’re only here overnight. Before dinner, you can take your samples of the water.” She pointed through the window. “Those steps take you right down to the spring.”

“I have to take them from other locations as well,” he found himself saying, the words seeming strangely inane in his mouth. Why were they talking at all? The way she’d felt in his arms, and tasted on his lips, they should have wound up in that huge bed making love.

Tonight, she’d come to him. He knew it like his own name. And right now, if someone told him he’d become clairvoyant, he’d have believed it. He could see her in
his fantasies, naked and sudsed in the bathtub…how he’d slowly dry each inch of her before pulling down the duvet and laying her on sheets.

Her voice still held that crazy-making quiver. “You’ve got a few hours until dinner.”

With that, she turned to go. He could only watch in disbelief—and need. Every swish of her hips felt like sheer torture. His hands ached to mold the curves of her hips. Instead, he said, “I’ll be leaving in fifteen minutes. Think you can be ready?”

At the threshold, she turned. Everything in her gaze said she felt they’d better stay as far apart as possible. “Ready?”

Determined to ignore the fact that he was standing there, barefoot with a hard-on, in nothing but wet trunks, he said, “In case the World Health Organization really does wind up involved in this. It might affect your story.”

Looking torn, she considered the truth of it. “Okay,” she finally said. “Fifteen minutes. I’ll meet you downstairs. We’ll take my car. It’s the silver Honda Accord.”

A
S
R
EX LEANED OVER THE EDGE
of a dock on the outskirts of town and filled a test tube, he tried to strike up a conversation, saying, “Romeo’s reputed to thrive in places like this.”

A breeze was gaining momentum and, as waves of sticky air came her way, Ariel pressed a hand to the hem of her dress, holding it against her thigh. She’d hardly anticipated an outing like this, so she’d had to wear clothes from her old closet at the teahouse. Most were racier than she’d be caught dead in nowadays, but she’d managed to find a white sundress with an empire waist and spaghetti straps. Or at least she’d thought it was suitable until the breeze had begun lifting the hem. Since the dress gathered beneath her breasts and had a built-in slip, the air threatened to lift it all the way over her head. Every time she looked at the man in front of her, she was stunned that she’d let him kiss her, and with such abandon. She didn’t even know him! But she wanted him….

“I think it might storm,” she said when the fabric billowed like a sail once more. She was determined, like him, to play it cool, as if nothing had happened. But it had. She could still feel the heavenly burgeoning pressure between her legs. He’d been so aroused….

She forced herself back to the present once more, as he said, “It’s supposed to later.”

Supposed to? For a second, she couldn’t even remember what he’d been referring to. Then she thought,
Supposed to rain. Right.
Picking up the earlier conversation, she continued, “Um. What do you mean, ‘places like this’?”

Still acting as if their kiss were the last thing on his mind, Rex slid another test tube into a tray he’d brought down the steep embankment, then he glanced at her. Wearing a T-shirt and jeans, he looked every bit as good as he had in his swimsuit. He was just as aware of her as he’d been in the Overlook room, too, judging by the glint in his eyes. “At this time of year,” he explained. “And in weather like you’ve been having in Bliss, an environment may have been created in which the virus could best grow.”

“And it doesn’t hurt people?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t seem to. But like I said, the South American documents were lost, if they ever really existed.”

She was still wondering what had happened to them in the Overlook room. One moment, she’d been shaking hands with the man. In the next, they’d been kissing in a way that could only lead to bed. “You don’t think they did exist?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Why would anyone lie about something such as that?”

He eyed her a long moment. “A love bug,” he reminded her. “You’ve got to admit the idea is pretty funny.”

Intriguing, anyway. She couldn’t help but smile back, even though his presence threatened everything she’d
hoped to accomplish in Bliss this week. “Are you saying scientists have a sense of humor?”

“Only if the jokes involve dreaded diseases,” he assured her.

He was filling a last tube. “If the bug’s in the water, and that’s the cause of the town shutting down in the past,” he continued, “and if the increase in births is true, after those periods, then it follows that there would be rashes of death, as well. If the bug had long-term lethal effects, that is. And there’s no such documentation in town records.”

“That’s a relief.”

Being with him wasn’t, however. She could only hope the night passed uneventfully. With him next door, she couldn’t trust herself. In the morning, he’d be gone, though, and then she could concentrate on finding the recipe book. On the way to this area of the spring, he’d insisted on stopping at the sheriff’s office.

Still, she’d reasoned, she was bound to run into Studs Underwood eventually, and she did want to see if he’d made any progress. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to have a man in tow for her inevitable showdown with Studs. She hadn’t seen him since a visit three years ago, but she wasn’t about to con herself into thinking the man had changed.

“That figures,” Rex had said dryly when they’d found a sign on the door, indicating Studs was out.

“It’s a small town,” she’d offered. “The police station’s not exactly teeming with employees. There’s a woman who’s here when Studs is out, but it looks as if she ran out for coffee or a snack.” She’d debated telling Rex of her past association with the sheriff, but had refrained. “Is it really that important that you talk to him?”

“It’s protocol,” Rex had returned. As he’d stared at the door, considering his next move, he’d explained the CDC’s rules regarding contacting local law enforcement officers before conducting tests in an area.

“Maybe he’s at Pappy Pass’s,” she’d suggested.

Since Pappy’s was on the way, they’d driven there next, only to find Studs hadn’t bothered to question him yet. Pappy had been sitting on his front porch, smoking a cob pipe and reading a hunting magazine, and he’d looked surprised to see her.

“Hello,” he’d said, eyeing her with seeming approval. “Why, Ariel, you look…good.”

As much as she hated how he’d implied that she’d once looked bad, she’d thanked him. After all, she really had blazed down Bliss Run Road at least a thousand times, looking like the worst kind of tramp. Even now, she cringed when she thought of the tight shirts she’d worn. She’d gone braless, too, so the outlines of her ample breasts had been there for all the world to see.

When questioned, Pappy had said Hammerhead’s red bandanna was missing, so it might be the one found at the crime scene. “But that’s a long way for him to roam, Ariel,” Pappy had pointed out.

And it was. Besides, if the truth be told, Hammerhead seemed happiest curled at his master’s feet, and the few times Ariel had seen the mutt, he’d been sleeping in the back of Pappy’s pickup. He wasn’t exactly frisky, and Mountain Drive was a hike, both from Pappy’s and town. “Maybe he was in a car with Jeb?”

“I thought about that,” Pappy had said, “but Jeb swore he didn’t take the book. I was in town when I heard about the break-in, so I asked him. You know how kids…”

She’d nodded. Ever since she could remember, kids had dared each other to visit Terror House at night. Ariel knew people wanted to get their hands on recipes for the love teas, too. Some thought there were secret teas in the book never made available to the public by the Anderson women. And, well…about that much, they were right. So, heaven only knew what somebody was home-brewing today.

“You might try talking to Jeb yourself, Ariel.”

“Maybe I will. Thanks for asking him, Pappy,” she’d returned, wondering if he really had. Not that Pappy was the type to lie. His reputation around town was every bit as good as hers was bad. Still, he loved his grandson, and if he suspected any wrongdoing on his part, he might cover for him.

Sliding the last tube into the tray, Rex stood. “I’m going to run these up to the lab and grab some slides. I forgot to bring them down. I’ll be right back. Mind waiting?”

She shook her head, then watched him walk to the end of the dock and uphill, his long legs easily making a path to the road. He really was a fine specimen of a man, and just watching him made her throat tighten, especially since she could still feel his hot mouth on hers.

Driving would have calmed her nerves and made her feel more in control, which was why she’d suggested they take her car, but as it had turned out, he’d flown into Charleston, picked up a mobile lab unit in a hangar there—it was the big, black RV she’d seen in the lot—then he’d driven to Bliss. Apparently, such vehicles were kept all over the country, for use by the CDC and military.

Now her nerves still felt jittery. It didn’t help that they were standing on a dock near Panty Point, the town’s
best-known make-out spot. On the opposite side of the spring, she could see the teahouse, and to the left, she could see the town. Definitely, Panty Point was the most isolated spot around. Though, she’d expected to see kids at least, exploring the bike trails that snaked across the rocky terrain and strip of muddy beach.

She watched sunlight dappling the magical waters. For a moment, she almost felt at peace, despite how Rex was unsettling her. The spring always calmed her. Maybe it was the only thing on earth that really could. Trees rocketed toward the sky, and the hills were vivid with color from the wildflowers. For all the pain it had brought her, she’d always felt Bliss was the center of the earth. Just like the spring, Ariel had come from it, and the town—for better or worse—was her source.

Nothing had ever made her feel so grounded. Except maybe Rex’s kiss. Her knees had weakened when he’d kissed her, her skin had burned, but she’d felt grounded, too, even as her mind had floated far above the room. She’d been flying yet solid on her feet. The kiss had felt so right, like part of her homecoming.

While they’d kissed, the weight of the past had been lifted, and she’d forgotten how she’d felt growing up, teased by kids who thought her family was weird. Adults, too. She’d forgotten how she used to beg her mother for information about her father, how her mother would only say she’d had an affair that hadn’t worked out. She and the man had never been married, leaving Ariel with the impression that he’d been a visitor who’d skipped out, leaving town quickly, and that the rejection had deeply wounded her mother.

Later, in adolescence, she’d quit asking her mother
about him. What man would want a child by a woman he’d rejected? Besides, she’d never been able to bear the pain that came into her mother’s eyes whenever she’d brought up the subject. Gran and Great-gran knew more about him. Ariel was sure of it.

But as time went on, she’d decided her mother knew best. And sleeping dogs were better left to lie. Ariel had started concentrating her energies on making her great escape, leaving town and making a different life for herself.

Hearing Rex behind her, she took a deep breath, bracing herself before she turned around. At the house, it had taken all her resources not to simply lock the door, strip and get down to business. She’d craved a man like Rex Houston for so long. Wasn’t that what this trip was all about? Coming to terms with the past? Sure, she wanted to show the town that she wasn’t really the sexpot they’d assumed, but only to better help her claim her sexual self. Her reputation had been hurtful, but she’d worn a brave face, and in doing so, had lost touch with the sensual woman she was meant to be. For so long, she’d felt her unfinished business in Bliss was in the way of moving on….

With her boss, Ryan? That had been her idea hours ago. But now…Yes, tonight maybe she really would let go with this man, enjoy just one night of abandoned sex. One kiss, and she knew he could give her more pleasure than anyone ever had. Just as she turned around, the breeze lifted her dress and she gasped, not catching the hem in time. The dress fluttered, flying nearly over her head, exposing white bikini panties. Embarrassed, she batted down the fabric, pressing it against her thigh,
fighting a blush. “Damn,” she mouthed as she looked up—and then felt the breath leave her body, entirely.

“Studs.”

“Did I surprise you, honey?” he said, his dark eyes lascivious. He was wearing tan shorts with a uniform shirt; a gun belt was around his waist, a hand on his weapon.

He knew he had. And it had been intentional. “The name’s Ariel.”

“Who’d know that better than your lover?”

She wasn’t proud of it, but she glanced toward the hill, half hoping she’d see Rex. No such luck. And when she glanced to her right, she realized Studs had come down to the water by a different path, judging by the mountain bike lying on its side a hundred yards from the dock. The word Police was emblazoned across the bike’s top bar.

“Already,” she said, “I can see you haven’t changed a bit.”

“And from what you just showed me, sweet girl,” he countered, “you haven’t, either. Nice panties.”

“Don’t start,” she warned, backing up a fraction, until she hit a pole behind her, so she could use it to steady herself. Why did she let this piece of trash get to her?

“You’re not happy to see me?”

“Hardly.”

He flashed a grin—bright white teeth in a tan as dark as his personality. “Could have fooled me, the way you lifted that skirt.”

She started to say the breeze had lifted it, but that was what he wanted, to push her into defending herself. “So I guess you haven’t been doing anything useful,” she said. “Like your job.”

“I figure I can handle my job just fine.”

“Guess not. Gran called me this morning about the recipe book. She said it was stolen last night, and I just talked to Pappy Pass—”

Now he was moving toward her. “You can’t breeze into town and start questioning my suspects, Ariel.”

“Apparently somebody has to,” she said hotly. “That book’s been in my family for years, and we all want it found. It’s valuable. It could be destroyed.”

He stopped in front of her. In high school, he’d been good-looking, a strapping, dark-haired jock. Quarterback of the high-school football team, as well as prom king with the woman he’d married, Joanie Summers, at his side as queen. But that had been years ago. Joanie had held up better than him. Even after three kids, she’d kept her figure. Studs had put on weight, though, and the broad, once-handsome, wide face that had dazzled schoolgirls was now creased with lines. He had a beer belly and looked ten years older than he really was. The nickname, Studs, was no longer fitting. That was, Ariel decided, at least some small satisfaction.

He was leering at her. “Miss me?”

“You know better.”

Edging closer, he dropped his voice to a near whisper. “Oh, c’mon now, Ariel, when you’re up in the big city, I bet you wonder about me all the time, don’t you? Lying in bed, you still think of me. Admit it. You dream of the good old days.”

“There were no good old days.”

“What did you get, amnesia?”

“If I had, I would have forgotten you.”

“You mean to tell me that you don’t remember how
I loved you so good in the back of my daddy’s pickup truck? Why, everybody in town knows what went down in the parking lot of Jack’s Diner, and how we drove to Charleston and got a motel room, so I could watch you getting it on with that woman. I told Joanie I hadn’t wanted to. But then, everybody knows you can be damn persuasive, Ariel. You had it bad for me, didn’t you, Ariel? Everybody in town knew you were my fantasy girl. And it made Joanie so jealous. My, oh my. How she hated you….”