Mystique (21 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Misty paused with
one
foot in midair, her palm inches from her open mouth, her eyes going as if in
slow motion from one member of the family to the next. She froze when she saw
Luc, his arms folded across his chest, standing next to his mother. "How,
paleface," she said, turning her palm outward in a greeting.

"How," Luc murmured, raising
one hand in imitation of hers.

"Me Red Eagle," Greg said,
thumping his chest.

"Me Running Deer," James said
with a fierce scowl.

"Me Purple Chicken," Misty
finished lamely.

"Me Great Hunter coming to get
Purple Chicken," Luc announced in deep tones, setting off peals of
laughter among the family.

George and Hildebrand tutted and
muttered. "No one need know she's related to us," said Hildebrand.
"We could say she's a bit soft in her upper works," said George.

"Damnation, is that my
meerschaum pipe?" Ted exclaimed.

"Is that my wedding garter around
your head, Mystique?" Deirdre asked shrilly.

"What do you mean, yours?" Alice swelled with anger. "I let you borrow it. It's mine."

Misty turned questioning eyes to the
boys. They shrugged sheepishly. "Fine braves you are," she mumbled as
she pulled the offending garter and feather from her head. "Now it's every
man for himself, I suppose."

"Just don't say too much," Greg
whispered from the side of his mouth as the grownups came toward them from both
sides of the pool. "Uncle Luc and Dad will take care of it."

"Yeah. Act like it never happened,
Purple Chicken," James advised.

"Thanks, you two," Misty
muttered as Luc ambled toward her, a gleam in his eye, his mother at his side.

"Not that I don't think you look
absolutely smashing with the feather, dear," said Althea. "I do. You
have marvelous clothes sense, but I'm not sure how our other guests will
react. Of course, when all is said and done, who really cares what others
think?" She smiled reassuringly at Misty. "I think you're perfect for
Lucas." She kissed Misty's cheek and glanced over at the boys.
"You've made good use of those garters. What smart lads you are!" Her
grandsons beamed.

"They're brilliant," Luc's
father insisted, skillfully inserting himself between the boys and their irate
mother and aunt. "Come along with me, now. Mabel has a nice drink for
you." He put his hands on their shoulders. As they walked away, Misty
thought she heard him add conspiratorially, "Now, let's get out of
here." But she wasn't sure.

"After dinner I'll have Hawes remove
the cover and take you swimming," called their grandmother.

"This isn't the end of it,"
Deirdre warned her sons, glaring when her husband chuckled.

"I do believe they're almost as bad
as our sons were," Alice said thoughtfully.

"Never," John
denied, ushering his wife back to the main house. As the others departed, one
by one, Misty and Luc were left alone.

"Great Hunter think
Purple Chicken very sexy." Luc leaned toward her and ran a hand over her
suede-covered thigh.

"It will cost you much wampum to flirt
with Purple Chicken," she informed him.

"Oh? How much?" Luc
bit her earlobe and blew in her ear, sending tingles down to her toes.

"The scalps of those two braves who
left me holding the bag." With effort Misty suppressed a smile.

"Old Indian maxim say: Never trust
any of the Harrison tribe."

"Heap good advice." Misty
closed her eyes as Luc's mouth touched hers. The kiss deepened, and her body
sagged against him. His arms took her full weight as they swayed in sensual
enjoyment.

"Shall I take off the tarpaulin so
we can swim?" he suggested.

"Could we?"

"Uh-huh. I'll lock the door when we
leave and tell Hawes what we've done. He won't let the boys in here
alone." "But we need suits."

"Hell, no." Luc held her back
from him for a moment, his eyes serious. "You don't trust me fully yet,
Mrs. Harrison, but you will."

"Luc," Misty began, but he
turned away from her and strode along the deck to a cabana, returning a moment
later with what appeared to be a large wrench. He knelt down at the far end of
the pool and twisted off several grommets with the tool. After releasing that
end of the tarpaulin, he folded it over, then went from side to side, loosening
the rest of the grommets. Misty tried to help him fold the tarpaulin, but she
found the sagging canvas too heavy. Instead, he used a hand crank to lift it
off the pool.

"There. We'll leave it at one end
like that," said Luc. "Hawes and a couple of the other men can put it
away." He rose to his feet and stared across at her. "Come along,
Mrs. Harrison. We'll undress in the cabana."

"Luc, what if someone comes?"

"Don't worry. I'll lock the door and
put a sign on the outside." He held up an oblong cardboard that said in
big letters:
do not disturb—swimming nude.

Misty gasped. "Where did you get
that?"

"John had it made for Mother and Dad
as a joke, but they've actually used it a few times." He chuckled.

"And you?" Misty asked sharply.

Luc's eyes glinted. "I've swum nude
with women a few times."

"More than a few, I'll bet,"
Misty said tartly. "Darling, how you talk." He came around to lead
her to the cabana.

She struggled to control her anger and
jealousy at the thought of Luc swimming nude with other women. But the emotions
burned in her, like raging flames. When she tried to close the cabana door
against Luc, he pushed it open. "No way. We undress together."

Misty turned her back to him as she
undressed, too upset to speak. The man had the power to make her temper go wild
for no sensible reason! It angered and befuddled her to think that she was so
easily riled by him.

"Ummm, so nice. You have the most
gorgeous skin of any woman I've ever known." Luc's hand feathered over her
backside.

"Spare me the detailed catalog of
the women you've known," she snapped.

"Am I getting to you, darling? I
hope so." He hung her vest and blouse next to his trousers.

She whirled around to retort, clad just
in her briefs, but the sight of his naked body brought her up short. As she
scanned his strong, muscular form, his skin taut and glistening, throbbing
desire came alive in her. He took hold of her upper arms. "I hope I'm
getting to you because you get to me. I'm frustrated. My wife is keeping
something from me. Don't try to deny it."

"I'm not," she mumbled.

"And it makes me furious. So I dig
away at you, trying to make you irritated enough to tell me what's buried under
that red-gold hair of yours." Luc stared grimly down at her.

"Luc, I
...
I have something to sort out."

"Damn you, Mystique, why won't you
tell me?"

"Are we going to
swim?" she asked, desperate to change the subject. He ground his teeth in
frustration, then reached out and slipped the silky briefs from her body.
"Now we are."

Relief flooded through her as he took her
hand. She needed him so much... But she couldn't tell him about how she felt
about giving birth.

Luc lifted her in his arms.
"Don't." Misty laughed, anticipating what he meant to do.

"It's you and me, love,
all the way." Without further preamble he jumped into the deep end of the
pool, taking her down with him into the chlorinated depths.

Misty didn't panic at the sudden loss of
oxygen. She relaxed completely as Luc turned her to face him. His mouth came
over hers, and he breathed his own life-sustaining air into her as they
reversed direction and rose slowly to the surface.

Misty lifted her head above water with
oxygen to spare, but she saw at once that Luc was gasping for breath. Humility
coursed through her. Luc had given her the very air from his lungs, as well as
shown the caring and sharing she had found as a married woman. He had done all
that for her, although she had never expected it from him.

She paddled closer. He
treaded water, watching her warily. He expected her to dunk him, she realized
as he took a deep breath. "Darling," she murmured, tracing her
fingers over his open mouth, his slowly moving feet keeping her easily afloat.
Her mouth followed her fingers, and her hands crept upward into his hair. It
struck her like* a blow that there was no need for her to
tell
Luc she loved him. She need only
love him at every opportunity. The realization left her feeling as light as
air. For a moment she forgot to kick her legs and began to sink.

Luc's hands were immediately at her
waist, hoisting her up again before she knew it. "What are you thinking,
love?" he asked hoarsely. "Damn you
_;
All you have to do is
touch me, and I start to crumble like a cracker."

"My mind's blank," she told him
serenely, her eyes half closed as she moved her body against his, her breasts
tingling at the touch of his slick body. The softened hair on his chest
rubbing against her skin created a sensual massage.

Luc clenched his hands on her hips. She
was driving him wild. "Who would ever think that making love standing up
in fifteen feet of water could be so delightful?" he said with a growl,
manacling her to his hard thighs.

"I thought cold water was supposed
to make that impossible." Misty rubbed her thigh in a gentle rhythm
against his aroused body.

"With you, cold water is only
another inducement, darling," Luc crooned, caressing her with skillful
fingers, making her cry out with need for him.

She slid her arms around his neck and
twined her legs around his waist. "I surrender," she whispered in his
ear.

"Damn you, Mystique.
Darling..." Luc sank with his burden under the water, then shot to the
surface. He lifted her to the tile deck and vaulted up beside her. But instead
of letting her rise, he pressed her down on the tiles and reached for a stack
of fluffy towels.

"Your mother will think you're very
extravagant using all those towels," she murmured as he spread them out,
then lifted her onto their softness.

"I don't want your delicate flesh to
get bruised, darling." Their wet bodies slid together with mounting need,
awakening a thousand nerve endings. Misty was overwhelmed with throbbing,
pulsating sensations.

"I'm here, Mystique." Luc
kissed her ankle and nibbled on her Achilles tendon, setting off a series of
exquisite shocks.

"My goodness," she said,
gasping. "Whoever would have guessed that a leg could be so
sensitive?" Her head rolled back and forth on the soft towels.

"I've had crazy sensations since the
first time I saw your legs, darling," Luc muttered, his tongue searching
for and finding her most intimate source of feeling.

"I... I..." Misty forgot what
she was going to say as her body lifted and arched in an ecstatic consummation.
Luc joined with her, and together they shot through the roof of the world,
wrapped together in the ultimate joy of giving to each other.

His chest was still heaving when he
pulled her on top of him and pressed tiny kisses on her face. "You're my
angel."

"I want to be," she told him,
aware that she had just given over a bit more of her life to him, that each
time they made love he possessed more of her. It frightened her to give so much
of herself, but she couldn't help it. She knew that she was far and away deeper
into Luc's life than she had ever approached with Richard and Leonard.

"Misty, don't withdraw from me into
that private corner of your mind where I can't go. I hate it when you do
that," Luc grumbled. "I want to dynamite my way into your most
intimate thoughts."

"Violent man," Misty chided.

A banging on the outside door startled
both of them. "Hey, you two," called Ted. "The ponies are in the
corral, and it's time to eat, and Hawes would like to get in there, and—"

"All right, Ted, we hear
you," Luc interrupted, rising and pulling Misty to her feet, cuddling her
to his body. "Tell Hawes not to worry. I took off the tarp. He can put it
away. We'll be there in a minute."

"Right. I brought down
the clothes that were laid out on your bed. I'll put them on the bench out
here. Hurry it up. You wouldn't want your clothes to freeze." Ted
chuckled, his voice fading as he returned to the house.

Misty looked anxiously up at
Luc. "They'll know what we've been doing."

He nodded, unperturbed.
"I should hope so. We've only been married a short time. My sisters and
parents can't be so dense that they don't remember what it's like." He
kissed her nose. "Darling, stop looking so worried." He strode over
to the outer door and cursed the blast of cold air that swept in as he
retrieved their clothes. "Hurry up," he called. "I want to take
a warm shower." Grinning, he rushed her into the dressing room, holding up
her outfit. "See? Your silk dress will be nice and fresh from the steam."