Water and Fire (9 page)

Cutlery clattered as I dove for
him, intent on finishing what we'd started in the shower. Beneath
my fierce kisses, he murmured words that I didn't hear until his
hands pushed my breasts away. "Bed. Bel, I'd like to take you to
bed."

I shed the
coat and stood, as he struggled out of the apron. Kissing and
stumbling, caressing and gasping, we crossed the living area to his
bedroom. The bed pressed against the backs of my legs and it took
only a slight push to tip us both onto the slippery sheets.
Red satin, like last night's shorts,
I thought incoherently, my hands sliding over the
fabric as Aidan's fingers were far more productive.

I could feel
the ripples building for another powerful orgasm as Aidan asked,
"What do
you
want, Bel? How do you want me?"

I crossed my
legs around his hips, my feet pressing insistently against the bum
I'd admired over breakfast. My voice came out in a sob. "In me. In
me.
Now.
Oh,
Aidan…
Aidan
…"

Some time later, when the
sweat-saturated satin stuck to my skin and our Irish luck had well
and truly wilted – at least for a few hours, Aidan assured me – I
lay beside him. My heart still racing as I tried to catch my
breath, I couldn't resist Aidan's kisses as he lightly stroked my
skin.

"Thank you, my amazing,
beautiful Bel," he murmured, stretching as his head hit the pillow
beside me.

"Shouldn't I be thanking you?"
I responded lazily, my skin feeling pleasantly raw in places from
the frenzied friction of our lovemaking.

His laughter shook the bed.
"I'm pretty sure you've expressed your loud appreciation
already."

I blushed, feeling my already
warm cheeks grow hot. "Am I too noisy?" I whispered, mortified.

Aidan turned, his face hovering
above mine. "If you screamed for joy at the top of your lungs every
time you came, you'd never be too loud for me, Bel. You'd only make
me want to hear you scream again." He kissed my neck, lifting his
leg to stroke mine beneath his.

His caresses had very little
effect on him – nor did my hands help. He sat up. "A couple of
hours, Bel, and I promise I'll be ready for you again. Is there
anything you'd like to do while we're waiting?" He seemed on the
cusp of saying more, but he didn't.

I shook my head, contenting
myself with stroking the length of his red chest hair, from top to
glorious bottom.

"On the Sundays I'm not
working, I usually go up to the Distillery for lunch. Taste a
whiskey or two and have something to eat…" He trailed off, his
mouth still open. A moment passed before he continued. "I'd love to
take you out to lunch, if you'll let me. I think you'd enjoy
tasting the whiskeys, too, if you liked the one we shared last
night." He looked worried. "But if you don't want to…"

I reflected. "I think you're
right. I would like to." I summoned a smile that came easily to my
lips. "But I think I'll need another shower and some clothes."

"Let me help you," Aidan
offered eagerly.

I shot him a questioning
glance.

His smile was broad, though I
didn't trust it entirely. "Oh, this one will be very clean. Plenty
of soap and this time we'll be in and out before the hot water runs
out," Aidan promised.

Trustworthy or not, I shrugged.
I wanted this man's hands on me. Whether his intentions were dirty
or clean were of no consequence.

My skin tingling from Aidan's
thorough ministrations in the hot water, I reluctantly dug out some
clean clothes from my bag. I pulled on my knickers and I stretched
my arms behind me to fasten my bra when I noticed Aidan standing in
the open doorway, for I no longer saw any point in hiding from him
as I dressed.

His appreciative smile widened
when he knew I'd seen him. "Red," he said, gesturing at my matching
underwear. "I like it."

I smiled. "Me, too," I
admitted, holding up the similar-coloured shirt I planned to wear
over my ruddy underwear.

Aidan reached for me as he took
slow steps into the room. His hands cupped my breasts through the
cloth. "You're irresistible in or on red satin, Bel," he murmured
before he kissed me.

After some minutes, when all
too soon we broke for breath, Aidan took the shirt from my hand.
"You should put this on, or I won't be able to keep my hands off
you." He helped me pull it over my head to cover my bra, before
curling his hands around me again.

"Does it help?" I asked with a
smile.

Aidan's expression wavered for
a moment before he replied, "No. I know what's under your shirt and
I can't stop thinking about them. I'll just have to try to restrain
myself."

My laughter bubbled up and out,
at the sheer determination in the man's expression. "It's all
right," I said suddenly, realising as I stared at his shirt. "I'll
be restraining myself from stroking your chest, too."

Both of us laughing now, Aidan
folded me into a more-than-welcome hug.

"Ah, Bel," he whispered,
touching his lips to my hair. "You should get some pants on so we
can go, or we'll be here like this all day."

We exchanged a lengthy glance
as we undoubtedly shared the thought that an all-day embrace was
hardly undesirable.

"You'll really like the
whiskeys and the food's good, too," Aidan said half-heartedly.

My stomach made its presence
known with an obscene gurgle.

"Ah, don't let me be so
selfish, keeping you from eating lunch when you're hungry. Here."
He reached over and snagged my jeans from the bed. "Put these on
and some shoes and we'll go."

Reluctantly, I pulled the jeans
on and fastened them, slipping my feet into my shoes so I'd be
ready.

I took a quick glance at my
reflection and realised what I'd forgotten. "Wait. I just need to
brush my hair."

Time turned tangled seaweed to
smooth satin that Aidan wanted to stroke. Instead of restraining my
hair as I normally would in a knotted bun or braid, I left it loose
down my back.

As if I needed more
encouragement, Aidan kept murmuring, "Beautiful. Just beautiful,
Bel," each time he reached out to touch my curtain of hair.

"Do I look okay?" I asked,
concerned.

Aidan looked me up and down as
I scrutinised his clothing. He wore the same as me – jeans and a
shirt, covered by a thick jacket. I cinched the belt of my coat
tighter around my waist, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. His
scrutiny still made me feel nervous.

"Like I keep saying, you're
beautiful, Bel. No one will notice I'm there, if I walk in with
you." Aidan held out his hand and I took it. "Let me drive. That
way, you can drink as much as you like and I'll make sure you get
home. Well, to my home, at least."

We headed out to his car. The
seats still smelled of salt from my soaking yesterday.

We encountered no kangaroos on
the drive, though the birds seemed out in force, fluttering through
the watery sunlight filtering through the trees that lined the
road.

He slid the Mini into the last
spot in the parking lot. I hesitated, looking around, wondering how
many of the townspeople would be inside the Distillery
building.

Aidan's arm snaked around my
waist, clamping me to his side. "It's all right, Bel. There'll
still be plenty of food and whiskey left."

Still uneasy, I walked stiffly
inside with him.

The room was packed. Bar
stools, tables, chairs and sofas were all occupied by people. A
fire rippled like a wave in the heater, flickering orange and blue
through the sooty glass, and the room burbled with conversation and
laughter. There was no place for us, except at the tables on the
veranda, in the cold air outside.

I slipped from Aidan's embrace.
"I'll go find us a table," I said, gesturing toward the
veranda.

He nodded, pressing his lips
together as if he was trying to squash unsaid words or laughter
between them. "I'll get you a drink. Anything particular you'd like
to eat?" He waved his hand at the menu.

I shrugged. "I don't mind.
Whatever looks good." I meant it, too. With so many people around,
I wasn't sure I'd taste a bite. I'd be watching them too warily,
wondering and worrying and wishing I wasn't part of such a
crowd.

I crossed to the veranda door
and found a table on the decking that was half-hidden from the
window, sitting so I'd be out of sight to the people inside, but in
clear view of the door when Aidan walked through it. The sun
touched my hands on the table, a faint whisper of warmth when
compared to the wonderful man I waited for or the whiskey he'd
bring me.

"Bel? What are you daydreaming
about?"

My eyes flew open to see Aidan
smiling at me, glasses in hand. I smiled right back, able to be
completely honest. For once, I had nothing to hide. "You."

He set the drinks down and
leaned across the table for a kiss, his tongue lightly caressing
mine. He tasted of whiskey already. "I'm sorry, I started without
you. Just a sip," he said, the slightest of apologies in his
eyes.

I looked at the glasses on the
table. Somehow, I had a lot of little ones, held together on a
wooden board, not a single large glass like last night. Aidan had a
similar board of glasses before him.

"A tasting paddle," Aidan
offered. "With slight samples of what they have available for sale
at the moment. We can enjoy these until our lunch is ready." He
touched a finger to the tiny glass on the right end of the platter.
"This is M79, the one that set you on fire last night."

I looked into his eyes at these
words, eyes of blue fire, like the flame on the gas stove he'd
cooked my breakfast on. Unlike this morning, I restrained myself to
another kiss across the table, without throwing the rest of my body
after it. When I slowly pulled back, I replied, "Then I'll keep
that one 'til last."

Talking about each glass as if
it held fruit, grain, herbs, smoke and soil, instead of golden
brown liquid, he pointed out which to try. Try as I might, I
couldn't taste all of the things he described in each glass. I'd
never eaten soil nor smoke, but I didn't like those that supposedly
contained them, either.

Yet after each glass was empty,
I found I preferred the taste of the contents on his tongue, in yet
another table-top kiss. When only one tiny glass of fire remained,
a woman brought a tray to the table, containing the food Aidan had
ordered for us. The tantalising smells wafting from the plates set
my stomach complaining once more, so I took a fork and seized the
nearest morsel to pop into my mouth. The wine-coloured slice of
sausage proved spicier than it first appeared, so I coughed and
choked until I reached for a glass of water to extinguish the
unpleasant fire. I came up dry. There was no water – only the
whiskey I wanted for later.

I staggered to my feet and
coughed out something about getting a drink, pointing vaguely in
the direction of the bar.

"Are you okay?" Aidan asked,
worried.

I smiled and nodded between
coughing as I tried to hurry inside.

At the bar, I had to wait
behind some people who were tasting their way through paddles like
mine. With some curiosity, I watched them as they cautiously sipped
each glass. The women pulled faces, but the men seemed to be
practicing blank expressions with each mouthful. I wondered whether
it was the whiskey or the women that made them behave so strangely.
Still I waited.

After some discussion, one of
the men bought a bottle of whiskey, wrapped in a paper bag and
tucked under his arm, as the group strode out of the
Distillery.

I stepped up to the counter.
"I'd like a big bottle of water and a bottle of the last whiskey on
the tasting paddle."

"The last one? M79? The prices
are here," the barman said smoothly, pulling a sheet of
plastic-coated paper toward me. He turned away to find a bottle of
water and some glasses to go with it.

He clinked the bottle and
glasses to the counter, then looked at me expectantly. My
expression mirrored his, as I waited for the whiskey bottle. "And
the whiskey?" I asked hoarsely.

He hesitated. "You did see the
price…" he said as he pointed at the last line on the page. The
number on the end was close to my weekly salary from the
hospital.

Perhaps I should have
hesitated, too, but I knew Aidan didn't earn much more than me. And
he'd chosen to share his expensive bottle of whiskey with me last
night. The least I could do was replace it. I glanced at the
window, where I could just see Aidan's back as he sat outside,
waiting for me. He looked lonely. Silently I extracted my credit
card and held it out.

"A bottle of the M79?" the
barman asked, again, just to make sure.

I nodded once and extended the
card further. Perhaps if I replaced the bottle, he'd permit me to
have a little more of the first bottle tonight…

The barman bustled around,
pressing buttons on the little machines to process my payment,
before handing me the bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. With
another glance outside, I tucked it into my bag. I'd surprise him
with it later.

I picked up the water bottle
and glasses, stepping slowly to the door outside.

"What are you doing sitting out
here alone? You should come join us." I recognised both Jill's
voice and the woman herself, even though she wore her casual
clothes and not her hospital uniform. She blocked the doorway to
the veranda.

"Ah, I'm…" Aidan began, half
turning in his seat to face her.

Jill nodded slowly. "She left
for Perth early yesterday. Cleared out of the house without a
trace. Forget her, Aidan. She's gone."