He looked up at the blue sky, the ambient light turning his eyes into gleaming crescents of silver. “I think about it,” he murmured thoughtfully. “It’s like a dream, isn’t it?” He ran his fingertip up my spine, and I t
rembled against him. “I suppose it’s hard not to speculate about something so amazing, given the way things are between us.”
I just stared at him for several seconds, a sense of wonder tickling at my consciousness.
“You mean that it’s so good between us, so big, that it’s hard not to imagine the outcome? The purpose of it all?” I asked in a small, hushed voice.
He met my stare. His stroking hand stilled. “There is a purpose, I think. And you’re right. It’s a bigger one than I ever imagined when I first saw your face looking back at me from that computer screen. Come here,” he demanded gruffly. He put his hands on my upper arms and slid me up his naked body.
His mouth covered mine, and the hot need flooded through me again, burning away all the questions.
This thing between us wasn’t rational. It blazed a trail. All we could do was follow it.
The hike back home seemed to go quicker, maybe because I was so relaxed and sublimely happy. We hadn’t made any plans for having a baby, but his mere mention of the topic told me so much. It had added an extra luster to the future.
On the way back, Evan told me that he was thinking of having a construction crew come in as soon as he could schedule it in order to do a demolition on the viewing room.
“I meant to have it done before we arrived, but better late than never. Do you think the crew being here will interfere with your painting?”
“No,” I assured him emphatically. I was as eager as anyone to have someone rip apart that awful room. Its presence in the house bothered me more than I liked to admit, even to myself. “It’ll be more annoying for you in your office than it will be for me. I won’t even be able to hear them up on the overlook.”
As we entered the kitchen, I noticed that Evan was checking messages on his cell phone.
“You didn’t check that thing the entire time we were gone,” I said, smiling at the realization.
He glanced up, his gaze piercing me. He slipped the phone into his back pocket with a smooth movement and reached out for my wrist.
“I’m sorry, Anna.”
I started in surprise at his intensity. “Sorry for what?”
“Sorry that the idea of me giving you my undivided attention for a few hours could make you smile like that. It’s something you deserve every day.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, trying to sound lighthearted even though my throat had gone tight at what I read in his eyes. “Neither one of us would ever get anything done if we went and did what we did today every day of the week.”
“Maybe not every day. But you and I will make time to go out like that a few days a week. Maybe we’ll go to South Lake on Friday and have lunch, then go and talk to Lauren at the gallery? Or we could spend a day in Carson City. Or go diving? I should order some paddleboards, and we could take those out—”
I went up on my toes and kissed his mouth. “Yes,” I whispered. “To one of those things or all of them. But we don’t have to do anything fancy. I’d be just as happy if you spent an hour with me once in a while out at our little beach here at Les Jumeaux.”
He kissed my cheek, his expression somber. “I realize now it was unfair of me. To keep you so isolated here. You’re young,” he murmured distractedly, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “Full of life. You’re used to socializing. You need more than just an introverted workaholic in your life.”
“Wrong,” I stated firmly, kissing him again. I pulled on several strands of his thick hair. “I only need this introverted workaholic in my life.”
A few days later, I was up on the overlook in the midst of a two-hour marathon of concentrated painting. Whether it was because I’d slept for the past few nights without any nightmares, or because Evan and I had grown especially close following our fight about me taking the car, my mood and my focus had been exceptionally good lately.
I blinked, my trance breaking in mid-stroke on the canvas. I glanced around, unsure of what had interrupted my focus. I was sure there had been no sound. Three men had arrived yesterday to begin to demo the viewing room. I’d been right in thinking the construction noise wouldn’t reach me here, though. No sounds of hammering or electrical saws penetrated the granite vault of Les Jumeaux and the stone cliffs.
A light breeze rustled the pines. Tranquility reigned absolute.
A tingling on my neck made me look over my shoulder and look at the turret of the South Twin. The hair on my arms stood on end. Someone sat at the tower window. I couldn’t make out any specific features, except to say I would have guessed it was man. He stared directly at me. I’m not sure how I could testify to that with so much certainty, except for the goose bumps on my neck and arms.
That, and the queasy feeling of having my privacy violated.
Whether it was an intruder, a guest, or Noah Madaster himself, the South Twin was definitely occupied.
I’d have to tell Evan.
I had the impression of movement behind the staring man, and suddenly, his image receded. He didn’t stand and walk away. One moment, he was there, and the next, he faded into grayness.