She giggled. “That kind of bottled lightning, huh? I thought you never got drunk.”
Mildly surprised, Travis said, “I guess it does fit, after all. You’re the only kind of bottled lightning I get drunk on, sweetheart.”
“I think I like that.”
“I know I do.”
More than half-asleep, she added, “Good thing I don’t get drunk on tigers. I do crazy things when I drink too much.”
“Such as?”
But she was asleep, and Travis laughed softly to himself.
The following day was something of a fascinating revelation for Travis. He had called Saber a touch-me-not flower, wary, protective; he had known and embraced the elemental lightning that had saved her life and rocketed her to stardom as a performer; he had seen fleeting moments of the fragility captured in a studio photo two years before.
What he saw now was a gradual blending of the three. She was still somewhat wary, reluctant to discuss her past—waiting, he knew, to be freed of her promise to Matt Preston. But the energy of her lightning onstage presence slowly took hold, reflected in her silvery eyes and in the emotions she seemed more willing to let herself feel. And there was vulnerability in the tentative touch of a woman newly in love yet still tied to her past.
But he was too fascinated by the emerging portrait of his love to worry about pasts.
They spent the day together, tacitly avoiding the other guests. They saddled up a couple of horses and rode into the mountains, taking a picnic lunch with them. Saber led him to her favorite spot overlooking the valley, a perfect place for lunch and privacy—and they took advantage of both.
Happier than she could ever remember being in her life, Saber was nonetheless a bit hesitant. She was finding the present a joy and a wonder, but the past disturbed her, and the future … the future was something she didn’t dare dream of.
Travis seemed content and she had no doubt of his love, but would that love survive life in a goldfish bowl? In spite of his journalistic instincts, his interest in other lives, he himself was a very private man. And he had made no promises as to their future. She knew he was waiting for her to confide her past to him—but then what? Even if he could accept that past, understand it, would it color their future?
Would it always color their future?
She gazed down at Travis’s sleeping face, her hands stroking the dark head that lay heavily in her lap. The horses, unsaddled, stood tethered nearby, drowsy in the cool shade; food had been consumed, remains packed away. The forest was quiet; Saber could hear only the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze.
She looked at his unaware face, relaxed in sleep. Could he ever realize, she wondered, just how much larger than life he really was? His sensitivity and understanding still astonished her. Would any other man have waited so patiently for answers she knew he longed for? And taught her so much about love while he waited?
Her heart ached as she let herself think of what she would lose if he walked away. She looked at him and thought, You’re the life I might have had. If it were simple, if they were only two people who loved …
But it wasn’t simple. There were debts and promises. There were circumstances neither of them could control. He had chosen for himself a relatively secluded but successful life; and, as a result, it was his work rather than himself that received public attention. If he decided to ignore public demands forever, neither his work nor his life would be seriously affected.
But her work … was performing for the public. She stood in a spotlight, pouring out her heart to an audience.
That could change, of course. She had wanted only success, never fame, and she had earned both. Was public performing necessary to her now? Was it a part of her life she could put behind her?
Were there still songs she wanted to sing?
Saber thought that she could sing now for an audience of one and be more than content. But was that what Travis wanted of her? She would not ask until he knew the truth.
She wasn’t certain she would be able to ask then.
“Don’t,” he murmured huskily.
Saber had to clear her throat before she could speak. “Don’t what?”
“Look sad.” He sat up, turning to face her. His hands caught hers and carried each to his lips. “You seemed so … lost. I’ve never seen you look that way before. What were you thinking?”
Saber gazed into tender green eyes and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “I was thinking that I live in a fishbowl.”
“Does that bother you so much?”
“Yes.”
He was quiet for a moment. “You have an incredible talent, Saber, but you have a life as well. An admiring world can’t live that life for you. You have to choose. Live in a fishbowl where the world can see you—or don’t.”
She smiled wistfully. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Isn’t it? Isn’t it really?”
“I could stop performing,” she said steadily. “But could I ever get out of the fishbowl?”
“Take yourself out. Live in my world, darling.” He hesitated, then went on quietly, “I would never ask you to give up a life you enjoyed, a life you needed. I wouldn’t … I’d never take you away from the world just so you could be mine alone, so only I could hear your voice. But if you don’t want that life”—his voice deepened—“then share mine, Saber.”
“Travis—”
He lifted his hand, gently covering her lips with a finger. “I know there are things you feel I have to be told. And I know you won’t commit yourself to me until that happens. But there’s something you have to know, Saber. Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter. It won’t change anything.”
“How can you be sure?” she whispered.
“Because nothing you could tell me would make me stop loving you,” he replied softly, and his smile went straight to her heart. “In case I haven’t mentioned it before, lady, what I feel for you is forever.”
“Without knowing what’s gone before?”
“Without knowing. I love you today, and I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”
Shaken, she reached out to touch his face with trembling hands. “I don’t think I deserve you,” she murmured.
His eyes darkened, a flickering radiance in their emerald depths. “Saber, don’t you realize what you mean to me? All my life I’ve looked for you, hungered for you. You were the dream I almost lost faith in. I felt half-alive until you. An observer. Analytical and uninvolved. When I saw you on that stage … like every other man in the audience, I wanted to go out and slay dragons for you. Then you came into the wings and looked up at me with wary silver eyes … and the dragons were nothing. I would have fought the devil in perdition’s flames for your love,” he finished almost savagely.
Gazing into the ferocious tenderness of his eyes, Saber felt the breath catch in her throat. Past and future were both forgotten in a rush of emotion, a surge of need.
“I love you, Travis,” she whispered, going into his arms. “I love you so much!”
Gently, he pressed her down to the blanket as his lips rained kisses over her face, her throat. His hand slipped beneath the loosened tail of her blouse to stroke her side, her stomach. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. “So strong and warm … my Saber …”
“Love me,” she murmured, her arms locked fiercely around his neck. “You’re the only reality I can hold … Travis …”
Seeking lips fused together with hot, sweet need, tongues dueling for a victory neither would claim. Clothing was tossed aside carelessly, blindly, until the dappled shade dressed their bodies in nature’s colors. The soft breeze caressed them silkily, warmly.
Saber pushed suddenly against his shoulder as they both took ragged breaths, rolling with him until she lay half across his hard body. Passion swelled within her, a driving need to express emotions too deep for words, too basic for thought.
Her fingers raked gently through the soft, curling hair on his chest, her lips finding a flat nip
ple that hardened instantly at her touch. She felt more than heard the groan rumble from deep in his chest, and his excitement heightened her own. Her hands explored hard planes and angles, muscled curves; her tongue searched and teased enticingly.
Travis cupped the nape of her neck, his fingers tangled in her long hair. Every sense tunneled, focused only on her touch. He was dimly aware of his heart pounding out of control, of the hot tremors jolting through him like an electric current gone wild. Mesmerized, he felt the lightning that was Saber galvanize his body, his mind, his soul.
He gasped when her lips followed the arrowing trail of black hair down over his stomach, her fingers lingering to trace his ribs. He sought to keep his aching, restless body still, muscles contracting involuntarily wherever she touched him.
“You are so wonderful,” she murmured against the quivering flesh of his stomach. Her hands shaped his narrow hips lovingly, as if she were molding him in clay or committing him to memory in her heart. She gloried in the faint salt taste of him, the rough, erotic brush of hair against her lips. She could feel the increasingly desperate need in his faint, jerky movements.
Travis lost his breath in a hoarse cry when her caresses became a warm and tender intimacy; the sorcery of her touch inflamed him. He groped wildly for control and found none, his body responding to her as though time itself had ordained it, commanded it.
“Saber!”
She didn’t resist when he drew her impatiently into his arms. And her simmering desire ignited at his first hungry touch. The pull of his mouth at her breast wrung a moan from her, and his hands held her body still when she needed so badly to move. She threaded her fingers through his thick hair and held him, an ache growing in her until it rose to block her throat.
“Travis,” she choked out.
“My love,” he said hoarsely, lifting his head at last to gaze down at her with feverish eyes. “You’re so sweet. You’re driving me out of my mind! Love me, Saber … love me. …”
She felt what little breath she could command rush from her body as he entered it, felt the throbbing need of him filling the aching emptiness within her. Instantly her body cradled his, holding him with the deepest part of herself until his eyes burned with surprise and excitement and a groan was torn from his throat.
Strength and power surged within them both, the current lancing taut muscles and quivering senses. Hunger drove them desperately, bodies crying out for release. They moved together with one mind, one rhythm, each leading and following, driving and driven.
Saber felt her body spiral upward, felt the quickened tempo, the breathless rush of all her senses. At last the tension exploded and she cried out in a primitive triumph, holding him fiercely, loving him with every part of a body gone wild. Travis stiffened and shuddered, a groan rasping from his throat as his own body hurtled over the edge into oblivious pleasure ….
It was a long time before either could move. They lay close together as heated flesh cooled and breathing slowed gradually.
Travis raised himself up on an elbow, gazing at her relaxed, smiling face with wonder. “You go to my head,” he told her. “You’re the only bottled lightning I get drunk on … gloriously drunk. I lose myself in you, darling.”
She traced a tender finger along his jaw, laughter dancing in her eyes. “I must be a very … apt pupil, then?” she asked solemnly. “I’ve learned how to please you?”
“Please me?” A grin tugged at his lips. “My darling love, if you pleased me any more, somebody’d have to lock me away. In case you didn’t notice, I was about one breath away from insanity a few minutes ago. And I didn’t teach you a thing—you were born knowing how to please me.”
“Ummm.” She smiled. “I’ve got a feeling you definitely learned how to please me,” she said dryly.
He was still smiling, but his eyes darkened with a hint of worry. “I won’t deny some experience. Does that bother you?”
Saber laughed softly. “No, darling, the women in your past don’t bother me. Now, one in your future—”
“Only you.” He kissed her. “Once a man gets drunk on bottled lightning,” he murmured, “anything else’d taste like water.” Suddenly his eyes were vivid, full. “That’s the first time you’ve called me darling.”
She linked her arms around his neck. “D’you object?” she asked.
“No. Oh, no, sweetheart, I don’t object.” He kissed her again, then sighed. “You do go to my head. I haven’t been thinking clearly since we met, and I’ve never thought to ask …”
Perhaps because she’d been dreaming of what it would be like to carry his baby, Saber understood what he was trying to say. Smiling ruefully, she replied, “I haven’t exactly been thinking clearly, either. But I’m all for planned parenthood and, as it happens, I—well, I made a promise on that subject. I’ll be … very surprised if we’re surprised by a little stranger.”
Travis didn’t ask about that promise. He wanted to but didn’t. She’d tell him when she could. His smile turned a bit wistful. “Do you want kids? Someday?”
Saber took a deep breath and let it out slowly, only just realizing that her answer came straight from the heart. “A houseful.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
He grinned. “Good. Me, too. Of course. I’m not too sure about the number you’ve apparently got in mind. At my advanced age—”
Politely, she said, “Your advanced age didn’t seem to be standing in your way a little while ago.”
“It didn’t, did it?” he said, encouraged. “Like I said, darling—you do go to my head.”
“Something does, anyway,” she murmured. “And we’re both ignoring time. Darling, I hate to end these pagan rites, but the sun’s going down. Shouldn’t we get decently dressed and head back?”
NINE
AS THEY WERE riding up to one of the three barns sometime later, Travis suddenly exclaimed, “Good heavens—we have been ignoring time. Me especially.”
“What’ve you forgotten?” she asked in amusement as she swung easily down from her horse.
Travis followed suit and gave her a wry look as they handed the reins to a stablehand. “The world. But specifically, I forgot that I promised to spend this coming weekend in California with the parents. I’ll have to call them.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I know.” He caught her hand as they headed up the path toward the main cluster of buildings. “I don’t have to stay here with you. Is that it?” When she nodded, he said, “Darling, I’m staying with you as long as you’ll have me. And if you make up your mind not to have me anytime in the next forty or fifty years, I’ll just change your mind.”
“Final word, huh?” She was laughing.
“You’re stuck with me; face the facts like a good girl.”
“Yes, sir.”
Cory nearly ran them down at that moment, and her lovely face was a study in mock astonishment. “Well, there you are! And I thought somebody’d killed you and buried the bodies.” Hands on hips, she surveyed them thoroughly. “And I’m not so sure they didn’t. Hi, I’m Cory Stewart! I own the place, and I don’t think I know you two.”
“Very funny,” Saber said, smiling.
Cory sighed theatrically. “I’m always the last to know.” As she passed them to continue down the path, she added conspiratorially to Travis, “Glad to see you were able to fill in those blanks. Bye now!”
Travis stared at his lady. “Is it written on our faces or what?” he asked plaintively.
“Cory always knows,” Saber told him. “And what was that about filling in the blanks?”
“When she gave me the advice I wanted to hear, she used that term to mean, um—”
“Never mind. I get the point.”
“I thought you would.” He grinned at her as they halted at a fork in the path.
Saber ignored the grin. “You’ll have to make your call at the main house. Why don’t you go ahead and do that?”
“And what’l
l you be doing?” he asked politely.
“I,” she said, equally polite, “will be wandering around somewhere.” Then she smiled. “I’ll probably be back at the cottage by the time you are. If not, look for me in the clubhouse. I feel like playing the piano for a while.”
“All right, darling.” He bent to kiss her briefly but thoroughly. “Don’t forget me.”
“I’ll try not to. If I do, though, you can always remind me.”
“I’m looking forward to that.” He leered and swatted her gently on the bottom as she turned away.
“Travis.”
“I’m going, I’m going.”
Alone, Saber strolled down the path, smiling. As she neared the building casually called the clubhouse, her steps quickened. Like every building at The Hideaway, it was unlocked, and deserted this time of day; the staff didn’t normally man the place until around dinnertime.
She entered the shadowy interior, threading her way among the tables, past the bar and dance floor. Absently, she noted that Cory had recently redecorated, replacing beige carpet and mountain scenery prints with rich red carpet and wall hangings. The room was dim, lit only with soft bar lights; the small bandstand was completely dark.
Saber felt her way to the light switch and turned on the light directly over the baby grand piano. She moved to the bench and sat down, flexing and limbering her fingers. Ignoring the sheet music, she played a few classical bits, switching idly from one to another. Gradually, though, an unfamiliar tune began to come to life beneath her light touch.
She wasn’t surprised by that; her best songs had come into the world in relaxed, reflective moments. After the crash, and when she’d known she would survive, many songs had played in her head. Luckily, her memory for music and words was excellent; those very songs had taken her to the top.
Now, still idly, she located the pencil and paper always kept on top of the piano. Her slender fingers sounded a few tentative notes on the keys, then repeated them thoughtfully. Words echoed in her mind, but she wanted the music down first. Leaning forward, she began putting the notes on paper.