His hands reached out and claimed hers, drawing her through the water toward him, cradling her instantly in his warm, slippery limbs. Anne wrapped her arms around his waist as if he were a lifeline, the blood surging through her veins, her cheek nestled against his shoulder. The water lapped and soothed, lapped and soothed, its heat forcing warmth back into her chilled limbs. Jake stroked back her hair, pressing small, firm kisses on her forehead.
In the water, her own flesh looked strange to her, all white next to his, all translucent, a voluptuous image of curves and tucks that was so unlike the images she had of herself. Her lips searched for his, suddenly desperately hungry for the feeling of closeness his touch could give her, had always given her. She found what she was looking for; her mouth clung to his, drinking him in, invading his mouth with a liquid-soft tongue. Limbs tangled around limbs, drawn to each other in the dark solitude. It had been too long, her body told her, too long since he’d touched her and held her.
Jake was her haven. Her mind explained patiently that that made no sense. Her heart knew different truths. His palm glided over her breast and rib, down to her hip and thigh, and her breath caught. Slowly, he loosened her arms, his lips dipping down to the warm, damp, exposed hollow of her shoulder. “Whatever you think, I didn’t intend this,” he murmured. “But then, you were so foolish, sweet. You stood there worrying about every item of clothing that had to come off, almost as if you were afraid, as if you were a virgin again…”
“You know better,” she whispered into his throat.
“I know better,” he agreed huskily. “I know you when a dark storm is haunting your eyes and your lips are trembling and your legs are wrapped around mine…”
His mouth claimed hers, fierce, sweet, aching, hard. Almost roughly, his fingers combed through her hair. Hairpins went flying, and a cascade of ash-blond hair came tumbling down, crushed in his hands. Rapids rushed through her bloodstream, a violent, terrible shiver of vulnerability. She was suddenly floating free in the water, propelled by Jake’s rough stroke away from the side. There was only Jake to hold on to in a liquid world without gravity. A low, guttural cry escaped from her throat when he raised her up from the water and touched his tongue to her breast. His tongue was moving like the lash of a whip…only tenderly. Tender, sweet lashes.
“Tell me,” he whispered.
She shook her head helplessly. Tell him…what? About the hot water and the cold, cold air and the sky trying to light the entire world with stars…? Tell him about the fire in her soul? Air and water and fire, an elemental cry that echoed through her bloodstream until the fierce, wild yearning was out of control…? But it changed nothing. He had a power over her no other man had…but he already knew that.
“Tell me you don’t remember,” he went on, still whispering. “Tell me you don’t feel the same anymore, that this makes no difference. Tell me what you don’t want, Anne…” His hands roamed over her water-silkened flesh, his lips pressed into her throat. Her fingers curled in the wet fur on his chest, and she could feel his heart pounding. She could feel her own heart pounding.
So silent, the whole rest of the world. Just the rasp of his breathing and then the pressure of his mouth on hers, the smooth, warm feel of the water and the blend of limb to limb, inseparable. A sensation that she was going to fall and never stop falling… “Lord, I want you, Jake,” she whispered. “Don’t let go…”
She was so safe. Safe and wonderfully free and alive, when he held her. Yearning ached through her in a warm, long quiver; dynamite growing desperate to explode…
The rattle of wooden gate seemed to come from a thousand miles away. Jake’s fingers suddenly dug into her flesh, startling her. Even before the gate creaked open, he’d whirled her behind him and pinned her against the rough side of the tub.
“Mr. Rivard?” A pair of fox eyes peered at them in the glow of the lights beneath the water. “I was mighty worried when I noticed the yard lights were out in this part of the campground. We were having trouble with the water temperature yesterday, and I-”
“Hit the light switch,” Jake said brusquely.
“Beg your pardon? I-”
“Now.”
He hit the switch. The pool lights went out instantly; the water turned black. Anne buried her face in Jake’s shoulder blades and closed her eyes.
“I had the thermostat repaired yesterday, but nobody’s reserved the tub since then, until you did, and I thought I should check. I mean I never meant to disturb you…”
The man was embarrassed and didn’t know how to make his escape. Jake handled him, in another world. The real world. Shame rippled painfully through Anne. She’d always known the relationship had no foundation to sustain it other than sex, yet so easily, so readily she’d just…
Everything was suddenly violently wrong. Her head ached. Clouds had formed a cloak over the stars, and cold air dipped down inside the wooden gates and whipped at her damp hair. Her heart was still trying to beat down its disappointment at not having her sexual needs satisfied…sexual being the operative word, a voice in her head scolded. She was insane to have made this trip…
She heard the latch of the gate and knew the man had left. Jake loosened his fiercely protective hold, and Anne was free to breathe again. And she did breathe, her eyes averted.
“Anne…”
A finger cocked up her chin. She batted it away, and surged past him and out of the water, her skin tightening as the cold night air raced over her dripping limbs. She reached for a towel, then rapidly changed her mind and grabbed up her robe, which she swiftly belted around her still-soaking body.
“Take it easy, Anne,” Jake said slowly, quietly coming up behind her.
“I’m not particularly proud of myself, Jake,” Anne shot back, “so just lay off.” Her hands were shaking as she grabbed the rest of her things and tried to tug open the gate. It wouldn’t give.
“He relocked it and I have the key. Just a moment.” Deftly, Jake got into his jeans and pulled a sweatshirt over his head. Anne saw the moody look in his eyes and averted her gaze. His jaw was tight, but he wasn’t angry. There was just a certain stillness about him that made her want to bite the inside of her lip; she wanted out of here. Out and completely away from him.
He stuck the key in the lock, but claimed her arm before she could open the gate. “It doesn’t make sense,” he insisted, “to fight something we both want.”
“We’ve been there,” Anne hissed. “Jake, you know that. I don’t know why I agreed to come. All that’s going to happen is that we’ll end up sleeping together again and building these…ties…and then I’ll go back to being Anne and you’ll go back to being Jake, and I can’t handle that again. You’ll go off to heaven knows where-”
Jake brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek, so tenderly that she could have hit him. “With you.”
“No! I don’t want that kind of life. I can’t handle it. I don’t need it…” She pivoted, turned the small brass key in the door and hurried down the wooden ladder into the frigid night.
Jake didn’t catch up with her until she was in the motor home, reaching in a drawer for her hair dryer. Her hair was drenched and took a long time to dry.
Jake took the dryer from her hand and dried her hair for her. Over the steady whine of the hair dryer, she gradually calmed down, not really from discipline but rather from exhaustion. If Jake had said one word…but he said nothing at all. Once her hair was dry, he pulled a nightgown over her head, helped her into the upper berth and tucked her into her own pink comforter. “You’re not going home,” he whispered. “I know exactly what you have in mind at the end of the two weeks, Anne-leaving. All right-if that’s how you feel then. But you’re not going home before the two weeks are up. Hear me?”