Viator (The Viator Chronicles Book 1) (20 page)

“You never thought what?”

He shook his head. “I just never thought about it before … that you might be left without enough money.”

Erin twirled the wine around in her glass and took a sip. “We do all right. I take care of us just fine.”

Gary tipped back his glass of wine and drained it. He set it down on the table, raised his eyebrows, and said, “I imagine you do.”

Erin ran her forefinger around the rim of her glass. Gary’s eyes were grim and cold, he flared his nostrils and let out a deep breath.

“What is it?” She leaned forward.

The waitress approached with a tray of food. “Here you go. The halibut with mango for you, ma’am, and the swordfish picata for you, sir.” She set down their plates, and her gaze lingered on Gary for a few seconds before walking away. He kept his eyes on Erin.

Erin leaned back in the booth, waiting.

“There have been a few problems with the client Henry and I are dealing with,” Gary said. “That lost shipment. It’s taking a little longer to resolve the situation than I thought. You’re right. It has been bothering me.” He picked up his fork and took a bite of the swordfish. “But we’ve got other things in the works, too. There’s a different investment that seems very promising. I should know more about it tomorrow.”

Dancing had begun in the next room, and the whole place seemed to come alive. Everyone became more animated. People were talking louder, and Gary’s mood seemed to brighten.

He refilled their glasses, emptying the bottle. His eyes had regained their usual twinkle, his dimples deepened. Erin felt the wine going to her head, and she knew her face must be a little flushed. She put her glass down.

“Would you like dessert tonight?” Gary asked.

“No, thanks—maybe some coffee.”

When the waitress reappeared, Gary ordered two Irish coffees. Erin protested, but he said, “Irish coffee’s a tradition with me.”

She relented. The smooth, hot liquid was delicious. Gary became very talkative, and as they sipped their coffee, he told her about his travels through Eastern Europe and Russia. He’d also spent a lot of time in China, and she was entranced by his descriptions of Beijing. Her attention encouraged him to talk more, and he charmed her with his laughter and stories. He ordered them both brandy to sip after their coffees were finished and told her details about sailing through the Mediterranean. She was feeling very relaxed when Frank Sinatra’s Summer Wind began to play.

“I love this song. Let’s dance,” she said.

Gary drained his glass and handed Erin hers. She tilted her head back and finished her brandy in one large swallow. They walked to the dance floor, and he held her close. Erin’s head was light, and she had to hold onto him to keep from feeling dizzy as they danced.

“I’m not used to drinking this much,” she whispered.

“Are you all right?” he asked, resting his mouth on her hair.

“I think so.”

When the song ended, they went back to their table. Gary ordered her a black coffee, and she sipped a little of it, then laid her head on his shoulder and immediately fell asleep.

“Erin,” Gary laughed. “Erin, are you all right?”

“Yeah, sure.” She lifted her head and looked around. “I’m sorry.”

“I think I’d better take you home.”

She leaned heavily on his arm as they left the restaurant. He opened the car door and helped her in. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“Everything.”

“You’re welcome.”

He helped her into the car, and they drove through the empty streets and along the quiet highway to her house. A few clouds streamed across the starry sky. The moon hadn’t risen yet, and the world seemed hushed, almost as if it were moving in slow motion. Erin wondered what time it was—it couldn’t be too late—and she hoped Edna wouldn’t notice what kind of condition she was in. Gary pulled into the driveway and slowly drove up to the house. Erin rested her head on the seatback with her eyes closed and listened to the crunch of the tires on the gravel. She opened the door when they stopped, and Gary rushed around to offer her some support. He took her key and unlocked the front door.

Edna stood up to greet them. “You’re home earlier than I expected.”

Erin’s face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m not much of a partier, I guess.”

Gary turned to Edna. “Why don’t I walk you back to your house?”

Erin thanked Edna and collapsed onto the couch fighting to keep her eyes open. She couldn’t believe she’d let herself drink so much—so much that Gary had to bring her home early. She’d spoiled their plans for dancing.

Gary returned in a few minutes and sat down next to her. He picked up her hand and held it to his mouth, watching her. He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the cheek, then kissed all around her face, her cheeks, her forehead, her mouth. Erin leaned her head back with a little smile and closed her eyes. When he kissed her mouth, she kissed him back, and he reached his hand behind her neck and kissed her more deeply. He trailed his fingers to her shoulder and slipped the narrow strap of her dress off. Erin opened her eyes, her heart beating fast.

“Don’t do that.” Her head was spinning.

He bent down and kissed her shoulder, then traced his fingers along the top of her dress, right above her breasts. She felt her nipples harden, and heat pulsed through her body. Gary’s breathing was ragged, his eyes dark, and his face intense. She sat up straight.

“No, wait,” she said.

“What for? Now is a good time.”

“I’m not ready for this. And the kids are upstairs.”

He slipped the other strap down and slid his hand over her breast.

Erin pushed his hand away, pulled her dress back up, and whispered, “Gary, no.”

He leaned away from her, studied her face, and reached his hand out to caress her cheek with his fingertips. She closed her eyes and sighed.

He kissed her mouth gently. He kissed her face again, her ear, her neck. She relaxed back onto the couch. His voice whispered, “Don’t my kisses feel good, Erin? On your throat? On your shoulder?” He kissed her just under her ear. “Wouldn’t you love to feel me kiss you everywhere?”

He kissed her throat and made a slow line of kisses along her collarbone. Erin’s skin tingled, her heart pounded. She knew his kisses would feel very good all over. But even with her foggy thoughts, she knew she wasn’t ready for this, and she didn’t want her children to see her like this either.

He stood up and lifted her from the couch. Her eyes opened wide, and she grasped hold of him.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh,” he said, and he carried her upstairs to her room. Her head reeled. He laid her on the bed and quietly closed the door.

Erin sat up. “Let’s talk about this.”

Gary gave a short laugh and pulled his shirt off over his head. His body was perfect—tanned skin pulled tight over his muscled frame, no little bulges of fat at his waist. He sat on the bed next to her, lifted her in his arms, and kissed her hard. He slipped his hands to the back of her dress and pulled the zipper down. Erin pushed him away.

He sat back and looked at her, his eyes, still dilated, were full of questioning amusement, his mouth a thin smile. He reached out and touched her face, tracing his fingers over her cheekbones, her forehead, her lips. She closed her eyes. His gentle touch felt so good. He kissed her lips lightly again and then grasped her hands and put them around his waist. His skin was warm—almost hot—and so smooth. She slid her hands over his back, and he kissed her mouth over and over. He pulled the straps off her shoulders again and slid her dress off. She tried to sit up, but he pressed her down onto the bed and kissed her again, holding her close. He tossed her dress onto the floor. She hardly felt like she could stop this and wasn’t sure she really wanted to anymore. He seemed so urgent and alive.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

“Gary, we shouldn’t do this now,” she whispered.

“Now is the best time.” He kissed her breasts, sliding his tongue over and around her nipples. Erin gasped as the tingling went through her.

“Doesn’t it feel good if I do this?” He lowered his head and made a trail of kisses down her stomach. He looped his fingers through her bikini panties and pulled them down and over her feet. She started to sit up again, and he pushed her back, holding her head down with a kiss. She relaxed back on the bed and shivered as his hands caressed the length of her body. He pushed her legs apart and lowered his head, kissing and tasting, and Erin twined her fingers in his hair and closed her eyes.

He unhooked his belt and pushed his pants down. She watched him with her half-open eyes but didn’t try to stop him any longer. He threw his pants on the floor, pressed against her, and pushed himself inside. She felt him as if he burned inside her, and then she exploded with pleasure. It had been so long. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed this.

When they were finished, Gary lay next to her, holding her close and tight, her head on his chest, the blankets twisted at the foot of the bed. Erin fell asleep in an instant.

Chapter 30

The white sand glowed in the brilliant sunlight. The air itself seemed to shimmer. Erin had never seen so much light. Brightly dressed people and umbrellas dotted the long expanse of beach, all the way down to the shores of the wide, slowly flowing river. Across the water, Erin could see a misty city of pastel buildings that climbed from the far shore up the hill to the hazy horizon beyond.

Some boys wearing red and yellow shorts ran past her, tossing a ball and laughing. A young mother sat with her toddler, helping her fill a bright blue bucket with white sand. Most of the people sat in small groups, some in beach chairs, some on blankets, and a few lay alone on towels soaking up the warmth of the day. Sea grass grew beyond the sand, silvery green and swaying in a gentle breeze. Erin’s black pants and jacket contrasted with the brightness around her like the dark shadow cast by a bird overhead. She knew she must look very out of place, but no one seemed to notice. She walked down the beach toward the river, smiling in the sunshine among the happy, laughing people. She sat down on the sand and took off her boots, then waded out into the water as she carried them. The water felt warmer than bathwater on her feet.

A woman called out, “Hey, you can’t go into the water. Come back.”

Erin looked at her and glanced around. She realized no one else was in the water. No one was even close to it. The woman stood watching her, and several other people turned to see what the commotion was about.

“Why?” Erin asked.

“It’s not our time,” the woman said, and she walked back up the beach toward her family. Her orange sundress flounced as she sat down on a blue and green striped blanket.

Erin waded back to the shore and sat cross-legged on the sand. She gazed across the wide river and felt a strong desire to go to that glowing city on the far shore. Its pull felt like a fish on a line. She had to find a way. A crow flew low over the water, coming from the opposite shore, and landed on the sand nearby. It took a few wobbly steps toward her and cawed, then it lifted its wings and flew high overhead, back over the river until it faded from view.

If only I could fly like that crow. There must be a way for me to get across.
After brushing the sand from her feet, Erin put her boots back on and stood up. A group of boys played nearby, trying to skip stones on the water, and she walked over to them. She picked up three well-worn, flat stones and threw one. It skipped four times before falling into the water. One of the boys stopped to watch. She tossed the second, and it skipped five times. The rest of the boys looked over at her, and she threw the third stone, which skipped six times before it dropped into the water far from the shore. She turned to face them.

“Do you know if there’s a way to cross the river?” she asked.

“Why would you want to do that?” asked one lean, tanned boy in green shorts.

“I just need to go over there.”

“People say if you go far up that way,” said a short, dark-haired boy pointing upstream, “the banks of the river get closer together, and you can get across. But I don’t know anyone who’s ever done it.”

“Thanks,” Erin said. “I’ll give it a try.” She waved to them and started to walk up the beach.

The boys looked at each other and followed after her. “We want to see if you can do it,” the boy in green said.

Erin welcomed their company, and they all marched up the beach through the crowds of sunning people, over the sand until it merged into the tall grass, leaving the other people behind. The banks of the river rose gradually, and they climbed the hill further and further, until they were high above the water.

Erin enjoyed listening to the boys as they joked with each other, but they grew quieter the further they went. The sun stayed high in the sky, brightening the air around them just as it had at the beach, as they walked on for what seemed like hours. Finally, Erin saw the far bank of the river grow closer, leaving a deep, narrow gorge where the river wound far below.

“I think we’re almost there,” she said.

“Look up ahead,” the boy in green said. “It really does get narrow up here.”

They drew near the edge, and Erin guessed the far bank must be only about ten feet from where she stood. It still looked like a long distance.

“Can you jump across that?” the blond boy asked.

“I’ll just have to do it,” Erin said. “Thanks for your help, guys.”

She backed away from the cliff, paused, and then ran for it. At the edge she leapt, and seconds later she rolled across the grass on the other side. The boys cheered, and Erin stood up, brushed herself off, and bowed low to them. They waved and headed back down the long hill to the crowded beach and the rest of their friends.

Erin scrambled down the hill on the far side of the river toward the village, its attraction stronger than ever.

Soon she came to the outskirts of the town. A cobblestone street wound down the hill, and a few small houses and outbuildings rested among flower and vegetable gardens. White sheep grazed in a pasture in the distance. Crumbling stone fences divided the pastureland, and she saw cows in a field further away. She passed an apple orchard, and branches of the trees overhung the road, the fruit giving a delightful fresh scent. Gradually the houses nestled closer together and more roads branched off, leading to more houses and several small shops. Soon Erin walked through a town of small, gleaming buildings—pink, green, blue, and yellow—and gardens bursting with tall flowers. Some houses appeared hazy and were difficult to see clearly. Sometimes children played in front; at times men and women sat on their front porches or tended their gardens. They smiled or waved at her as she walked past, and a few greeted her, “
Viator, salve
.” She waved back and said, “
Salve!”