The creak of footsteps on the attic stairway took him by surprise. Quickly and quietly he shut the lid of the trunk he’d been searching. By the time Caitlin entered the musty room, he was standing by an arched window.
“Nico. I didn’t expect to find you up here.”
And he sure as hell hadn’t expected her to come up here, he thought, eyeing her warily. She was wearing a jade-green tank top with a lacy appliqud on the front and crisscross straps in the back. Her faded denim shorts had a form-fitting waist and full, flirty legs that made it resemble a sexy little skirt. Perfect outfit for mucking about an attic on a rainy day. Perfect outfit for driving him crazy.
His expression revealed none of what he was feeling but reflected the innocence of a small boy caught in a harmless prank. “It’s the rain,” he said by way of explanation. “It always makes me want to seek out an attic.”
She smiled somewhat nervously as she noted that being away from him for a time hadn’t changed the way his presence made her heart race. As startled as she’d been to encounter Nico and despite her recent resolution regarding him, she was very glad to see him. “How long have you had this condition?” “Since I was a kid. Didn’t you tell me you used to like to poke around up here?”
“Yes, and as you can see, I still do.”
“Are you poking around for anything in particular?” “Yes, a chair. I thought I remembered it being in this room, but I’m not sure.”
She'd accepted his explanation without question, and he felt as if he were the worst kind of con man. He couldn't leave SwanSea yet, but there was a part of him that half wished she’d throw him out. "Maybe I could help you search for it.”
“If you like. It’s a pear-wood armchair with curved arms and legs, and cream-and-yellow upholstery.”
“I haven’t really looked around much, but it could be here. We could each search a different area if you like. ”
“Okay, but there’s no rush. ” She lifted her tightly linked fingers in an awkward gesture. “What were you doing? I mean, have you been up here long?”
He shrugged. “No, not really. Did you know there’s a great view from this window, even with the clouds and rain?”
She weaved her way around trunks, boxes, and an assortment of furniture until she reached Nico’s side. “You’re right,” she said, gazing out the window. “I’d forgotten how much more you can see from up here than down on the bluff."
Driven by a compulsion stronger than his will, Nico studied the pure line of her profile and discovered that her dark lashes feathered against her cheeks when she blinked.
Charming.
And her finely pored skin appeared luminous, even without makeup.
Beautiful.
And her lips parted slightly as she breathed in and out.
Tantalizing.
As he had all day yesterday, he relived the feel of her in his arms.
Without his being able to prevent it, she had gotten under his guard the night before last. He’d told her things about himself and his great-grand-mother that no one outside the family knew. The people he could really talk to were so few, he’d been left wanting to tell her more. But that was impossible.
He’d kissed her and hurt to go further. And of course that too was impossible.
On impulse, she unlatched the window and pushed outward on the frame. It didn’t budge.
“Stuck?” His voice was slightly husky.
She nodded, trying again. “It hasn’t been opened in years.”
“Let me see if I can do it." He gave the window one good shove, and it swung outward.
"Thanks. I thought the room could stand a little air.” She turned and looked at him, and the smile on her face slowly faded as she took in the intensity of his eyes. She shouldn’t read anything into the expression, she told herself. He just happened to be a man with intense eyes.
So he’d kissed her. He wasn’t the first.
So she’d melted when she'd never melted before. It meant nothing.
What’s
inside you, and why do I care so much?
she asked him silently. There were layers to this man that no one would discover unless he allowed it—she’d learned that much. And she had resolved that if something developed between them, he would have to make the first move.
But his nearness was sending jittery little thrills skittering along her nerve endings; she stuck her hand out the window and let the gentle rain cool her skin.
Before the cooling was done, he drew her hand in from the rain and brought the inside of her wrist to his mouth. He pressed his lips against the nearly translucent skin and felt her pulse race. Then his tongue darted out to lick away the rain.
"I missed seeing you earlier,” he heard himself murmur. What the hell, he thought wearily, he was simply trying to divert her. And licking rain from her wrist was as good a way as any. How could he have known how delectable he would find her flesh?
“I was busy,” she said with a catch in her voice.
“That’s what Ramona said.” He brushed his lips back and forth over the sensitive underskin of her wrist and heard her intake of breath.
Oh, Cattlin, why do you have to be so damned sweet?
“She told me you were feeling better this morning.”
He dropped his arm, taking her hand to his side. “As soon as it stops raining, I thought I’d try to jog a little. ”
Protest sprang immediately to her lips. “You shouldn’t. You’ll hurt yourself.”
“I said a
little."
His dark gaze fixed on her lips, and he bent and placed a kiss at the comer of her mouth. It was as much as he would allow himself. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, his breath fanning her lips. “I’m very good at taking care of myself.” He traced the outline of her lips with his tongue, then again kissed the comer of her mouth. It was enough, he thought. After all, he was just playing. But her shudder tore through him.
“I’m glad.”
He’d accomplished what he’d set out to do, he thought. She was distracted. He wouldn’t have to kiss her again. He straightened, reached for a lock of her cinnamon hair, and wove it through his fingers. “How about you, Caitlin? Are you good at self-preservation?”
She gave a shaky laugh. “I suppose I’m adequate. I couldn’t have reached twenty-six if I wasn't.”
“You’re just a baby.”
Her tongue moistened her bottom lip. “How old are you?”
His gaze followed the action. “Thirty-four.” He released her hair and skimmed the pad of a finger across her moistened bottom lip. “But most of the time I feel eighty-four.”
Any minute now, she was going to lose track of their conversation, she reflected. All she could think of was how close he was standing to her and how much he seemed to be touching her. “Why would you feel that old?”
“Life, Caitlin,” he said roughly. “Life. Take my advice and stay the same age as you are biologically, for as long as you can.”
“H—how would you recommend I do that?”
His jaw clenched until he felt pain shoot up the side of his face. “Stay away from me.”
“Stay ...” To her mortification, tears filled her eyes. “What?”
“Damn.
” He jerked her to him and crushed his mouth to hers. His tongue found the hot velvet of her mouth, and need exploded in him, nearly undoing him. Thoughts crowded into his brain, thoughts of taking her down to the floor with him, undressing both of them, locking their bodies together, and learning her from the inside out. It was a bad, bad idea. It was the wrong time, the wrong place, the wrong person. . . . But Lord, how he wanted her.
Lightly he grated his teeth along the length of her tongue, eliciting a moan from her. Caitlin had no thought of holding back. He’d jerked her to him as if wanting her had gotten the better of him. The idea thrilled her, and at the same time she understood. Maybe there was a reason why she should fight against him and the way he made her feel, but if there was, she couldn’t think of it.
He thrust both hands upward beneath the wide legs of her shorts and the lace trim of her panties and took hold of the rounded contours of her bottom. The sensation of kneading the firm flesh satisfied him for only a moment. Everything in him was clamoring for him to bury himself inside her and seek relief for this fever that was driving him crazy. Without relinquishing his hold on her, he lifted her against his pelvis, then pulled her into him hard, so that she could feel the strength of his desire. When Caitlin wrapped her legs around his hips and tightened her hold on him, he nearly came undone.
The fresh smell of rain came through the window and mingled with the scent of their need. They strained together as a dark fire blazed in and around them.
Caitlin felt as if she were balancing on a precipice and the uncertainty made her feel helpless.
Nico had an intense driving need for her, and the certainty made her feel strong.
Uncertainty. Certainty. Helplessness. Strength.
Whatever . . . She couldn’t, wouldn’t let him go until the hunger growing inside her was assuaged.
The muscles in his back shifted and moved beneath her hands as he began lowering them to the floor.
“
Caitlin.
Caitlin, are you up there?” Ramona called.
Nico stilled and muttered a curse. Then, before she could protest, he set her on her feet and almost ripped her arms from around his neck.
“Caitlin?”
“Yes?” she said, but her voice was too weak to reach Ramona who she knew was standing at the bottom of the attic stairs.
"Caitlin!"
“Answer her, dammit,” he ordered in a harsh whisper.
Nico’s eyes were burning with an anger that bore right through her. She cleared her throat and called, “What is it, Ramona?”
“Conrad Gilbert is here.”
“Tell him to make himself comfortable, and I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
"All right.” There was a brief silence, then, “Are you okay? You sound—funny.”
She bent her head and rubbed her temple. “I’m fine. Ill be down shortly. ”
The rasping of their heavy breathing sounded loud in the quiet attic room as Ramona’s footsteps receded. Caitlin could feel the heat from Nico’s body on her skin, but the continued silence between them stretched out until she couldn’t take it anymore. Uncaring that her eyes revealed all the hunger she was feeling, she said, “I'll tell Conrad I can’t see him today, Nico. I’ll— ”
“No.”
“But—”
His teeth ground together as he reflected how close all his fine resolutions had come to being blown straight to hell. “I said it before, and I'll say it again. Stay away from me.”
“What are you talking about? Something just happened between us—”
“Something that damn well shouldn’t have.” A hard dark mask descended over his face. "Stay away from me, Caitlin, and I’ll stay away from you!” He wheeled and stalked from the room.
Caitlin bit her lip and wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. Devastated, she stood very still, knowing it would hurt to move, to think, to recall what had just happened. Long minutes passed, but no relief came.
Finally, slowly, with heavy automatic movements, she began her search for the chair. The sight of the trunk gave her momentary pause. The lock hooked in the hasp wasn’t completely closed.
“That’s odd,” she murmured aloud. “I thought all the trunks were locked.”
The next few days blurred for Caitlin. She dealt efficiently with crises as they arose. The morning after the scene in the attic, she discovered that the wrong wallpaper pattern had been put up in one bedroom. Much to the consternation of the workmen, she ordered the paper stripped. The next day, she caught a painter about to use too bold a shade of peach in the main drawing room and had to explain to him that the Art Nouveau period was one of rich but muted colors and that she wanted a softer color. She knew she was being a perfectionist, but where SwanSea was concerned, everything had to be just right.
Obsession with work blocked out thoughts of Nico—sometimes for minutes.
She went out of her way to avoid him, not because he had told her to but because she felt seeing him again would be like exposing an open wound to more injury.
But by the time the electricity blew on the third day, she had begun to be annoyed with herself. Since when had she become so fragile? she asked herself.
Since Nico came to stay,
she answered.
After discovering that a mistake had been made when the new wiring was installed, she put in a call to the electrical subcontractor. Then she realized Nico needed to be told they would be without electricity for a while, perhaps even a few days. Her first thought was to send Ramona to find him, but she quickly vetoed the idea.
Enough oj this,
she decided. She had a strong backbone, and it was time she used it.
Nico came to a sudden stop by the marble fountain in the center of the conservatory and lasered a sharp gaze around the immense iron-and-glass building. He heard nothing now, and he knew that he was alone. But. . . just for a moment there, he had thought he heard laughter, like a haunting echo of long ago.
He shook his head, puzzled by the intense interest he felt for the great house, its land, and its buildings. SwanSea was built on the detailed and opulent scale nearly unbelievable and almost impossible to achieve in present times. But his interest went deeper than the awe that was natural upon seeing for the first time the wonders of this century-old house.
But it was as if the house had reached out and taken possession of him, so that slowly he was coming to understand Caitlin and her fierce feelings for her inheritance.
Procrastination had never been a part of his makeup, but this afternoon he had decided to explore more of the grounds of SwanSea instead of continuing his investigation of the attic as he’d promised himself.
He’d taken a stroll over to the pool house, large enough to accommodate a couple of families easily. According to Caitlin, it had been built in the 1920s after her grandfather had taken ownership of SwanSea. Nico had spent some time wandering through its bowling alleys, squash courts, the gymnasium, the Turkish bath, and the fabulous indoor swimming pool. Then he had made his way here.
Sinking onto a wrought-iron bench, Nico exhaled heavily. The sun was setting on the west side of the conservatory. Golden light flowed through the big glass panes, filling the inside of the nearly translucent building with currents of sunshine that coiled and curled around the statues and the orange trees growing beneath the crystalline roof.