“Only shorts and that little bit of shirt. They’ll dry in a jiffy in the sun.”
She had no time to answer as he stepped off the bank into the cold waters of the lake.
“Gideon!”
“In a few minutes it will seem as warm as bathwater.” He struck out with a lazy sidestroke in the general direction of the waterfall, propelling her with easy strength. “Relax and leave everything to me.”
She had little choice in the matter, she thought wryly as her arms curved around his neck and she obediently relaxed against him. “Warm as bathwater, my foot.”
But soon they were in the outer spray of the falls and she found Gideon was right; the water no longer seemed too cool on her warm flesh. It was shallow enough here for Gideon to stand upright, the water coming barely to his shoulders. He looped his arms loosely about her waist to keep her level with him. His hair was deepened to dark brown by the spray and clung to his head like a gleaming helmet.
Her fingers reached up to delicately trace the cool, damp contours of his cheek. “I can’t get that line quite right. The bones are broader than you’d think at first glance.” Her fingers wandered down his cheek. “And, of course, those dimples are utterly impossible.”
“Sorry,” he said automatically, before scowling crossly. “They are not dimples, they’re laugh lines. Shirley Temple had dimples. I have laugh lines.”
She snuggled closer. “I believe I’ve struck a nerve.” She poked at a long dimple with her forefinger. “You shouldn’t be so defensive. I think they’re perfectly sweet.” She leaned forward and her tongue licked teasingly at the crescent line. “Gideon’s darling dimples.”
“Nauseating,” he pronounced. “You’re piling up the score for retribution, woman.” One hand left her waist to go to the buttons of her pink sun top. “Do you know the definition of a dimple?”
“I don’t believe I do,” she said warily.
“I do.” He stripped the shirt from her and tossed it on a large boulder by the waterfall. “It’s permanently engraved on my memory. I looked it up when I was a kid.” He scowled. “After I bloodied the nose of the first boy dumb enough to call me ‘Dimples.’ ” His hand was at the fastening of her shorts now. “A dimple is a natural hollow on the body, usually small, but not necessarily.”
“What an interesting bit of trivia,” she said breathlessly. Her breasts were brushing against the hard cool wall of his chest and she could feel them tauten, their sensitive tips beginning to blossom.
“I thought you’d be fascinated.” Gideon slipped her shorts down over her hips. “But it’s not trivia. I consider it a matter of some importance that everyone has dimples.” The shorts slid down her legs and she kicked out of them. She really should try to keep them from floating away, she thought hazily, but at the moment it didn’t seem very important.
“Some dimples are in the most enchanting places.” He pressed her close and they melted together in magic alchemy. His hand went caressingly to one pert cheek of her buttocks. “There’s a cute little one, right here.”
“I never noticed.”
“I did,” Gideon whispered. “I notice everything about you.” His lips touched hers in a kiss as light as fairy dust. “Do you know that you look fantastic under a waterfall? The spray covers you with diamond dew drops.”
“How romantic,” she said lightly, her throat tightening. “As a beauty aid it’s hardly portable, however.”
“I am romantic when I’m with you.” Suddenly he was no longer laughing. “I want to tilt windmills and fight dragons for you. I’d like to write a song like the old troubadours did for their ladies and sing it under your window.” His hand gently caressed the sleek glossy darkness of her hair. “You know that commitment we were talking about?”
She stiffened unconsciously in his arms. Not now. Please, not now. “Commitment?”
He nodded, one finger tenderly brushing her wet lashes. “It’s damn important, Serena. And there’s no way I’m going to let you run away from it.”
She didn’t want to think about anything but him at this lovely moment. It had been such a wonderful three days. Why did Gideon have to interject this disturbing note now?
“Who’s running?” she asked, deliberately pressing closer to him and rubbing her breasts against him in teasing provocation. “I’m standing still.” She made a face. “For all the good it’s doing me. I thought you were going to tell me more about my enchanting dimples.”
A shadow darkened his face for a brief instant, and she saw a flicker of disappointment in the depths of his eyes. Then it was gone and his grin was as mischievous as ever. “Oh, yes, those dimples. I was about to go into that,” he drawled. He made a slight adjustment in his stance, his hands lifting her legs so they curled around his waist. “Very deeply into that.”
Her laughter was abruptly cut off and she inhaled sharply. Her fingers bit into the sleek, cool flesh of his shoulders as he suited his actions to his words.
She closed her eyes as he started to move with a forceful tempo, gradually escalating into world-shaking explosiveness. She could feel his heart pounding as erratically as her own and there seemed to be an element of driving ruthlessness about his thrusts that had been absent before. Ruthlessness? Gideon had never displayed anything but magical gentleness in his lovemaking. Yet there was undoubtedly a disturbing element, almost an anger in his possession now. No, she must be mistaken. For when they reached the climax of feeling that had become as necessary to her as water in the desert, his arms still held her with the same caring protectiveness as they always did.
His voice was the same, too, a husky growl with an underlying thread of humor. “Two minutes?”
Her answering laughter was lost in the mellifluous roar of the waterfall.
Still, there was unmistakably an air of abstraction in Gideon’s demeanor as they retrieved her blouse and finally, after several dives, managed to find her shorts. It continued as they swam back to the bank and dressed before gathering Serena’s sketch pad and pencils and setting off for the house.
She shivered as she cast a glance at the sky, which had darkened from cerulean blue to dull pewter while they had been in the water. “So much for my clothes drying in a few minutes,” she commented. “We’ll be lucky if we don’t get drenched again before we get back to the house.”
“What?” He glanced up at the thunderclouds gathering on the horizon. “Looks like rain. Let’s get you inside.”
His hand cupped her elbow and his pace quickened to a jog. By the time they reached the house, the threatening storm had become a reality. They ran the last few yards through a cloudburst.
“You’d better take a hot bath and get into some dry clothes,” Gideon said quietly as soon as the door closed behind them. He was striding swiftly down the hall toward the kitchen. “I’ll start a pot of coffee and put steaks in the broiler.”
Frowning, she stood in the foyer looking after him. There was definitely something wrong. Any other time there would have been no question they would shower together, then share the kitchen tasks. “You’re just as wet as I am,” she called to him.
“I’m fine,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Run along.”
The casual dismissal shouldn’t have bothered her, she assured herself firmly. Perhaps Gideon was growing tired of doing everything together. It was only natural for a man as independent as Gideon to chafe at constant invasion of his privacy. Just because she was beginning to find every moment spent without him lonely, she mustn’t expect him to feel the same way. Yet the nagging uneasiness she was experiencing had a definite tinge of unhappiness as she turned and walked slowly up the stairs.
The uneasiness manifested itself in the extra care she took with her appearance. After her shower she reached for a rose and gold caftan instead of more informal wear. She put her hair up in a loose knot on her head, leaving a few wisps to curl around her face. A bit of powder and mascara, a touch of lip gloss, and she was ready to confront Gideon. She made a face at h
erself in the mirror. Confront Gideon? Why had those words occurred to her? They made him sound more like an enemy than a lover. Her imagination was really running away with her.
When she appeared in the kitchen a few minutes later she knew her elaborate toilette had been for nothing. Gideon glanced up casually as he put foil-wrapped French bread in the oven. “The steaks are almost done. I left the salad for you to do. I’ll be with you in ten minutes.” He left the kitchen.
She was frowning as she opened the refrigerator door and began to take out vegetables to make a salad. She might as well have been a post for all the attention he had paid her. Perhaps he was becoming a little bored. Well, she had all evening to pierce his wall of indifference.
She glanced out the window over the sink at the rain battering against the windows in sheets, an occasional rumble of thunder indicating that the storm would be around for some time. It was almost dark and she could barely make out the trees and shrubbery of the garden being buffeted by the wind. The idea of a storm coming at this particular time to disturb the sunny tranquillity of the days that had gone before made her even more uneasy. It seemed entirely too prophetic.
Gideon came back in a little over ten minutes later. He was dressed in khakis that molded the beautifully sculptured line of his thighs and a cream shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow to bare his muscular forearms. His damp hair was combed with the unaccustomed meticulousness of a scrubbed and spiffy little boy, she noted, with a sudden rush of tenderness. But there was nothing boyish about Gideon’s demeanor as he sat down opposite her at the table and began to eat. There was only quiet competence, maturity and a seriousness that worried her.
It wasn’t until after they had finished the meal itself and were having coffee that Gideon leaned back and gazed somberly at her. “I want you to marry me.”
Serena almost dropped her coffee cup. A swift surge of joy was followed by confusion and then an odd sense of panic. “You don’t mean it.”
“I mean it.” Gideon’s lips thinned to a tight line. “Did you think we could continue this little idyll forever? It’s time we came out of the rosy haze and talked about commitment.”
“Marriage,” she echoed. Her throat felt dry and tight and she moistened her lips nervously.
“You seem to be having trouble with the idea. I don’t know why. It’s not such an unusual concept.” He pushed his cup and saucer aside with barely controlled impatience. “Despite the liberated era we live in, it’s still considered the thing to do when two people care for each other, you know.” He paused before adding, “And you do care for me, Serena.”
“Yes, of course I do.” There was no question in her mind. How could anyone help loving Gideon? He was all sunlight and passion. He was quiet strength and laughter. “I think we ought to wait a while before we take such a serious step. We’ve really only known each other a little less than a week.” Her smile was uncertain. “Why don’t we talk about it again later?”
“Now. I want to talk now, Serena.”
“Well, I don’t.” She pushed her chair back and stood up. “You’re being unreasonable. There’s no reason we can’t go on exactly as we have been.” She drew a deep shaky breath and smiled pleadingly. “Would it be so bad? You can’t say you haven’t enjoyed the last few days.”
His expression lost none of its quiet determination. “No, I can’t deny it. That’s why it’s important we keep what we have. Marriage, Serena.” He rose to his feet and stood facing her across the table. “It’s got to be marriage.”
“Not yet,” she said sharply. “I’ve been married, dammit. It would be foolish to jump impulsively into such a serious commitment.” She smiled with an effort. “Now why don’t we discuss something else? We obviously can’t agree on the subject of marriage.”
He shook his head. “Not this time, Serena. I’ve watched you sidestep any hint of commitment for the entire time we’ve been together.” His lips curved wryly. “I don’t think you were even conscious of doing it. Heaven knows our time together has been so damn wonderful I didn’t want to blow it by pushing too hard, but we can’t put it off any longer. Our time’s running out.” He gestured toward the door. “Come on, we’re going to talk.”
“The dishes—”
“We’ll do them later,” Gideon said firmly. He tossed his napkin on the table, turned and strode from the room.
She gazed mutinously after him before reluctantly following him down the hall and into the library. She seated herself stiffly in a flowered easy chair and folded her hands in her lap. “Perhaps you’d better begin the discussion,” she said. “I’ve said everything I wish to on the subject.”
He dropped down on the couch and regarded her sardonically. “Which is absolutely nothing. But I don’t mind taking the initiative. Suppose we start by my asking a question or two.” He leaned forward, his gaze fixed with hypnotic intensity on her face. “What happens after we leave here, Serena? My base is here and yours is in New York. What did you have in mind for our relationship then?”
“I’m sure we could work something out.”
“I’m sure we could. Perhaps we could take turns commuting on weekends. And there’s always the telephone, isn’t there, Serena? I’m sure we’d find long-distance heavy breathing more than satisfying.”
“Don’t be sarcastic,” Serena said. “It wouldn’t have to be forever. Just until we feel sure what we’re doing is right.”
“I’m sure,” he said between his teeth. “And you’re sure too, dammit!” He made an effort at control. “Look, I know you’re afraid, but I—”
“I’m not afraid. I just think—”
“The hell you’re not!” His dark eyes were blazing. “Do you think I don’t know you love me? That’s the one thing in the world I’m damn certain about. There’s no way that what we’ve got together could be one-sided. You’re just so scared you’re shaking in your shoes.”
“That’s ridiculous. Why should I be afraid?”
“You shouldn’t be afraid, but you are. There’s nothing to fear in what we have together. I know whatever you’re afraid of has something to do with what happened to you that night, or in the years we were separated, and I know your marriage wasn’t what a marriage should be, but ours would be different. We can straighten everything out if you’ll only let me help you. But I can’t help you, if you won’t talk about it. Talk to me.”
She stared dumbly at him.
“Dammit, don’t look at me like that.” He stood up with the leashed ferocity of a caged leopard. “You’ve been a fantastic lover, but I need more than sex. I need you to trust me and let me become a part of you. Sex isn’t enough and I won’t let you use it as a substitute.” He turned to the door. “And I damn well can’t take it any longer!”
“Where are you going?” she asked, startled.
“For a walk.”
“But it’s pouring rain!”
“Good.” He cast her a glance as tempestuous as the storm outside. “Maybe it will cool me off.” He strode out of the room and a moment later she heard the front door slam behind him.
She was stunned and bewildered. Gideon had been angry with her. Her own defensive anger had disappeared, submerged in the sudden panic that realization brought. He had always been so patient, so infinitely gentle with her, and now he was furious. What if he decided to leave her?
She jumped to her feet and ran from the room. A moment later she was down the porch steps and out into the darkness. “Gideon,” she called frantically. “Come back!”
Which way had he gone? She couldn’t see anything through the pelting rain. She was soaked to the skin, and the water was dripping from her throat down the low neckline of the caftan. She started running. “Gideon, where are you? I can’t see—” She broke off as she collided with something blessedly familiar. Her arms went around him and she held him tight. “Gideon.”
“You didn’t have to come after me. I was coming back.” She could sense the crooked smile on his lips. “I deci
ded sex wasn’t such a bad substitute after all. For now.”
She clung harder to him. “I’m trying. I am trying, Gideon. But it’s as if there’s a wall I can’t seem to climb over, or a river without a bridge. Please believe me, I’m trying to give you everything you want.”
His lips brushed her forehead. “I know you’re trying. I shouldn’t have blown up, but sometimes I get so damn impatient.” He paused. “And scared.”
Her head lifted and her gaze searched his face in the darkness. “Scared?”
“I guess I wasn’t really fair to you in there. You’re not the only one who gets frightened. I’m scared I won’t be enough for you. That was why I didn’t come to you right away when those detectives found you. When the report came in, I found out you had jet-setter parents, and had attended fancy schools and even married a damn prince. And I was a cowboy from Texas without even a high-school education. I’d always tried to read and learn as much as possible, but I knew it wasn’t the same. So I had to try to cram a four-year college education into as little time as possible.”
“What!”
“Oh, I know I didn’t get the same kind of polish as the people you must have known but—”
“Gideon, shut up.” She couldn’t tell if the moisture on her face was rain or tears. “My God, you’re the best human being I’ve ever met and you’re worried about polish? You’re tender and warm and intelligent and—” She stopped, searching for words. “Everything. You don’t need anything more than you have right now.”
“Yes, I do,” he said quietly. “I need you.” He suddenly chuckled. “And I’ll get you, too, just wait and see.” He turned, his arm around her waist, urging her in the direction of the porch. “Come on, let’s get back to the house before we drown out here. Then we’ll hop into a hot shower together and I’ll show you just how much I need you. You know, it’s going to be kind of nice lying in bed together with the rain pounding on the roof. We haven’t done that since the first night I met you. When I was a kid I used to love to hear the sound of the rain and think how green it was going to make the earth and how beautiful the flowers would be.…”