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Authors: Nora Roberts

Temptation (14 page)

BOOK: Temptation
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“As soon as I get back to camp.”

“My mother says you catch a chill if your feet stay wet.” Roberta gave Squat a parting hug. “See you next year,” she said to Chase, and for the first time Eden saw a hint of shyness. “You really will write?”

“Yeah.” Chase bent down, tilted her head and kissed both cheeks. “I really will write.”

Her freckles all but vanished under her blush. Turning, she threw herself into Eden's arms again. “I'll miss you, Miss Carlbough.”

“Oh, Roberta, I'll miss you, too.”

“I'm coming back next year and bringing my cousin. Everyone says we're so much alike we should be sisters.”

“Oh,” Eden managed weakly. “Wonderful.” She hoped one winter was enough time to recharge.

“This was the best summer ever.” Roberta gave one last squeeze as tears began to cloud Eden's eyes. “Bye!”

The front door was slamming behind her before Eden had taken the first step. “Roberta—”

“It was my best summer ever, too.” Chase took her free hand before she could try for the door.

“Chase, let me go. I have to get back.”

“Dry clothes. Though, as I may have mentioned before, you look wonderful wet and dripping.”

“I'm not staying,” she said, even as he tugged her toward the stairs.

“Since I just heard Delaney pull off, and your car's out of gas, I'd say you are.” Because she was shivering now, he hurried her up. “And you're leaving puddles on the floor.”

“Sorry.” He propelled her through his bedroom. Eden had a fleeting impression of quiet colors and a brass bed before she was nudged into the adjoining bath. “Chase, this is very nice of you, but if you could just drive me back—”

“After you've had a hot shower and changed.”

A hot shower. He could have offered her sable and emeralds and not tempted her half so much. Eden hadn't had a hot shower since the first week of June. “No, I really think I should get back.”

But the door was already closing behind him.

Eden stared at it; then, her lower lip caught between her teeth, she looked back at the tub. Nothing she'd ever seen in her life had seemed so beautiful, so desirable. It took her less than ten seconds to give in.

“Since I'm here anyway . . .” she mumbled, and began to peel out of her clothes.

The first sizzle of hot spray stole her breath. Then, with a sigh of pure greed, she luxuriated in it. It was sinful, she thought as the water sluiced over her head. It was heaven.

Fifteen minutes later, she turned the taps off, but not without regret. On the rack beside the tub was a thick, thirsty bath towel. She wrapped herself in it and decided it was nearly as good as the shower. Then she noticed her clothes were gone.

For a moment, she only frowned at the empty rail where she'd hung them. Then she gripped the towel tighter. He must have come in and taken them while she was in the shower. Lips pursed, Eden studied the frosted glass doors and wondered how opaque they really were.

Be practical, she told herself. Chase had come in and taken her clothes because they needed to be dried. He was simply being a considerate host. Still, her nerves drummed a bit as she lifted the navy-blue robe from the hook on the back of the door.

It was his, of course. His scent clung to the material so that she felt he was all but in the room with her as she drew it on. It was warm and thick, but she shivered once as she secured the belt.

It was practical, she reminded herself. The robe was nothing more than an adequate covering until her clothes were dry again. But she tilted her head so that her chin rubbed along the collar.

Fighting off the mood, she took the towel and rubbed the mist away from the mirror. What she saw was enough to erase any romantic fantasies from her mind. True, the hot water from the shower had brought some color to her cheeks, but she hadn't even a trace of mascara left to darken her lashes. With the color of the robe to enhance them, her eyes dominated her face. She looked as though she'd been saved just before going under for the third time. Her hair was wet, curling in little tendrils around her face. Eden dragged a hand through it a few times, but couldn't bring it to order without a brush.

Charming, she thought before she pulled the door open. In Chase's bedroom she paused, wanting to look, wanting even more to touch something that belonged to him. With a shake of her head, she hurried through the bedroom and down the stairs. It was only when she stopped in the doorway of the front room and saw him that her nerves returned in full force.

He looked so right, so at ease in his workshirt and jeans as he stood in front of a nineteenth-century cabinet pouring brandy from a crystal decanter. She'd come to realize that it was his contradictions, as much as anything else, that appealed to her. At the moment, reasons didn't matter. She loved him. Now she had to get through this last encounter before burying herself in the winter months.

He turned and saw her. He'd known she was there, had felt her there, but had needed a moment. When he'd come into the bath to take her wet clothes, she'd been humming. He'd only seen a shadow of her behind the glass but had wanted, more than he could remember wanting anything, to push the barrier aside and take her. To hold her with her skin wet and warm, her eyes huge and aware.

He wanted her as much, as sharply, now as she stood in the doorway dwarfed by his robe.

So he'd taken a moment, for the simple reason that he had to be sure he could speak.

“Better?”

“Yes, thanks.” Her hand reached automatically for the lapels of the robe and fidgeted there. He crossed the room to offer her a snifter.

“Drink. This should ward off the danger of wet feet.”

As she took the glass, Chase closed the doors at her back. Eden found herself gripping the snifter with both hands. She lifted it slowly, hoping the brandy would clear her head.

“I'm sorry about all this.” She made certain her tone was as polite and as distant as she could manage. She kept her back to the doors.

“No trouble.” He wanted to shake her. “Why don't you sit down?”

“No, I'm fine.” But when he continued to stand in front of her, she felt it necessary to move. She walked to the window, where the rain was still pouring from the sky. “I don't suppose this can keep up for long.”

“No, it can't.” The amusement he was beginning to feel came out in his voice. Wary, Eden turned back to him. “In fact, I'm amazed it's gone on this long.” Setting his brandy aside, he went to her. “It's time we stopped it, Eden. Time you stopped backing away.”

She gave a quick shake of her head and skirted around him. “I don't know what you mean.”

“The hell you don't.” He was behind her quickly, and there was nowhere to run. He took the snifter from her nerveless fingers before turning her to face him again. Slowly, deliberately, he gathered her hair in his hands, drawing it back until her face was unframed. There was a flash of fear in her eyes, but beneath it, waiting, was the need he'd wanted to see.

“We stood here once before, and I told you then it was too late.”

The sun had been streaming through the glass then. Now the rain was lashing against it. As she stood there, Eden felt past and present overlap. “We stood here once before, and you kissed me.”

His mouth found hers. Like the storm, the kiss was fierce and urgent. He'd expected hesitation and found demand. He'd expected fear and found passion. Drawing her closer, he found hunger and need and shimmering desire. What he had yet to find, what he discovered he needed most, was acceptance.

Trust me. He wanted to shout it at her, but her hands were in his hair, entangling him and pulling him to her.

The rain beat against the windowpanes. Thunder walked across the sky. Eden was whirling in her own private storm. She wanted him, wanted to feel him peeling the robe from her shoulders and touching her. She wanted that first delirious sensation of skin meeting skin. She wanted to give her love to him where it could be alive and free, but knew she had to keep it locked inside, secret, lonely.

“Chase. We can't go on like this.” She turned her head away. “I can't go on like this. I have to leave. People are waiting for me.”

“You're not going anywhere. Not this time.” He slid a hand up her throat. His patience was at an end.

She sensed it and backed away. “Candy will be wondering where I am. I'd like to have my clothes now.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” he said again as he lifted his brandy. “Candy won't be wondering where you are, because I phoned her and told her you weren't coming back. She said you weren't to worry, that things were under control. And no”—he sipped his brandy—“you can't have your clothes. Can I get you something else?”

“You phoned her?” All the fear, all the anxiety, drained away to make room for temper. Her eyes darkened, losing their fragility. Chase almost smiled. He loved the cool woman, the nervous one, the determined one, but he adored the Viking.

“Yeah. Got a problem with that?”

“Where did you possibly get the idea that you had a right to make my decisions for me?” She pushed a hand, covered by the cuff of his robe, against his chest. “You had no business calling Candy, or anyone else. More, you had no business assuming that I'd stay here with you.”

“I'm not assuming anything. You are staying here. With me.”

“Guess again.” This time, when she shoved, there was enough power behind it to take him back a step. He knew that if he hadn't already been mad about her, he would have fallen in love at that moment. “God, but I'm sick to death of dealing with overbearing, dictatorial men who think all they have to do is want something to have it.”

“You're not dealing with Eric now, Eden.” His voice was soft, perhaps a shade too soft. “You're not dealing with other men, but with me. Only me.”

“Wrong again, because I'm through dealing with you. Give me my clothes.”

He set the snifter down very carefully. “No.”

Her mouth would have fallen open if her jaw hadn't been clenched so tightly. “All right, I'll walk back in this.” Ready to carry out her threat, she marched to the door and yanked it open. Squat lay across the threshold. As they spotted each other, he rose on his haunches with what Eden was certain was a leer. She took one more step, then, cursing herself for a coward, turned back.

“Are you going to call off that beast?”

Chase looked down at Squat, knowing the dog would do nothing more dangerous than slobber on her bare feet. Hooking his thumb in his pocket, he smiled. “He's had his shots.”

“Terrific.” With her mind set on one purpose, she strode to the window. “I'll go out this way then.” Kneeling on the window seat, she began to struggle with the sash. When Chase caught her around the waist, she turned on him.

“Take your hands off me. I said I was leaving, and I meant it.” She took a swing, surprising them both when it landed hard in his gut. “Here, you want your robe back. I don't need it. I'll walk the three miles naked.” To prove her point, she began fighting the knot at the belt.

“I wouldn't do that.” As much for his sake as hers, he caught her hands. “If you do, we won't spend much time talking this through.”

“I'm not spending any time at all.” She squirmed until they both went down on the cushions of the window seat. “I don't have anything else to say to you.” She managed to kick until the robe was hitched up to her thighs. “Except that you have the manners of a pig, and I can't wait until I'm hundreds of miles away from you. I decided the other night, when I was given the choice between a boring fool and a hardheaded clod, that I'd rather join a convent. Now take your hands off me, or I swear, I'll hurt you. No one, but no one, pushes me around.”

With that, she put all her energy into one last shove. It sent them both tumbling off the cushions and onto the floor. As he had done once before, Chase rolled with her until he had her pinned beneath him. He stared at her now as he had then, while she fought to get her breath back.

“Oh God, Eden, I love you.” Laughing at them both, he crushed his lips to hers.

She didn't fight the kiss. She didn't even move, though her fingers stiffened under his. Each breath took such an effort that she thought her heart had slowed down to nothing. When she could speak again, she did so carefully.

“I'd appreciate it if you'd say that again.”

“I love you.” He watched her eyes close and felt that quick twinge of panic. “Listen to me, Eden. I know you've been hurt, but you have to trust me. I've watched you take charge of your life this summer. It hasn't been the easiest thing I've ever done to stand back and give you the space you needed to do that.”

She opened her eyes again. Her heart wasn't beating at a slow rhythm now, but seemed capable of bursting out of her chest. “Was that what you were doing?”

“I understood that you needed to prove something to yourself. And I think I knew that until you had, you wouldn't be ready to share whatever that was with me.”

“Chase—”

“Don't say anything yet.” He brought her hand to his lips. “Eden, I know you're used to certain things, a certain way of life. If that's what you need, I'll find a way to give it to you. But if you give me a chance, I can make you happy here.”

She swallowed, afraid of misunderstanding. “Chase, are you saying you'd move back to Philadelphia if I asked you to?”

“I'm saying I'd move anywhere if it was important to you, but I'm not letting you go back alone, Eden. Summers aren't enough.”

Her breath came out quietly. “What do you want from me?”

“Everything.” He pressed his lips to her hand again, but his eyes were no longer calm. “A lifetime, starting now. Love, arguments, children. Marry me, Eden. Give me six months to make you happy here. If I can't, we'll go anywhere you like. Just don't back away.”

BOOK: Temptation
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ads

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