“You were handicapped. You couldn’t hold the camera yourself. My excuse is that I couldn’t see what I was taping.” He moved closer to her and settled his lips against her ear. “And I was distracted.” His mouth made a feather-light pass across her cheek. Then the video machine clicked off. “Damn,” he cursed softly under his breath as he got up to put in another tape.
Kathleen stood up. Her knees were trembling. “I’d better be going…” she said nervously.
“No. There’s one more. Sit,” he ordered.
Kathleen lacked the will to resist, and honestly wasn’t sure she wanted to. She dropped onto the bench again. Boldly, Erik placed an arm around her shoulders when he resumed his seat.
For several minutes, they were silent as they watched the children cavorting in the river. The screen went gray for a few seconds, then Kathleen gasped as she saw herself coming slowly out of the water.
She was the exclusive focus of the moving picture. The background of trees that lined the opposite side of the river was like a green curtain behind her body, outlining it in detail. She came out of the water with unintentional provocative grace. Her cinnamon-colored bikini almost made her appear naked. Wet hair clung to her neck and shoulders seductively, like the fingers of a lover. The water, sparkling in the sunlight, rolled down her limbs, her chest, her stomach, her abdomen, in glistening drops that looked like diamonds against her skin. On the tape, the tentative smile she had given him seemed alluring—shy, yet inviting.
The screen went blank again and a heavy silence pervaded the room. Kathleen, unable to move, continued to stare directly in front of her. The tape finally ran out and the machine clicked off. It sounded like a cannon’s boom. Still she sat motionless with her heart pounding, employing all the energy left in her body.
Erik touched her face with the back of his hand and, with sure fingers, turned her chin around to face him in the darkness.
“For my private tape library,” he whispered, and lowered his head to brush his lips across hers.
She pushed away from him in breathless caution. Standing up hastily, she took two steps toward the dais. “Your recorder…”
He came off the bench like a spring. His hand reached out with uncanny speed and clasped her around the waist. “Forget it,” he said gruffly. He swept her into his arms and against that hard, masculine body. Deftly, he released her hair from the barrette which held it atop her head and raked his fingers through the heavy skein. Entwining his fingers in it, he pulled her head back, forcing her to look at him. “Forget everything. Think only of this.”
His mouth closed over hers, assuming total possession and brooking no arguments to the contrary. But it was a gentle assault. His lips sipped at hers while his mustache tickled and teased until her lips opened in welcome. Then each secret of her mouth was discovered by the hungry exploration of his tongue.
Without her having been conscious of it, her hands had come up to caress the sides of his face. Now her fingers were weaving through that glorious blond hair and touching the strands that lay against his collar.
His hips moved against hers, and quite naturally she answered the movement and settled against his manhood. She felt, rather than heard, the breath catch in his throat, and then he moaned her name. His hand smoothed down her back, stopped long enough to appreciate her tiny waist, then moved to the soft swelling of her hips. The hand became bolder as he cupped her tenderly and pressed her tighter to him.
His mouth nibbled her earlobe and worked its way on a sensuous trail down to her neck. “What is that fragrance?” he breathed, and Kathleen groaned when she felt the tip of his tongue in the sensitive triangle at the base of her throat.
“Mitsouko,” she whimpered.
“Never heard of it.”
“No?”
“No. But I’ll never forget it now.”
His hand was on her rib cage and moving up. Oh, God, yes! Yes! His hand covered her breast. His palm fit over her as if it were made for that complementing purpose.
It began a slow, learning, rotating circle that suspended her in some euphoric atmosphere. Lowering his head to replace his hand, he nuzzled her with his nose and mouth. His breath was moist and hot through the cotton of her shirt. His lips formed her name around her nipple. She heard a sharp little cry, not realizing she had made it.
Once again, his hand was on her breast, and his thumb had taken over where his lips left off, gently raking her evertightening nipple. His mouth was at her ear, doing something delicious as he asked huskily, “Where do you want to go?”
“What?” she asked weakly, absently.
“Your cabin or mine?”
The words finally made it past that fog of sexual oblivion and doused her arousal like an icy shower. The flames of passion that were licking her body and igniting her spirit were extinguished with that one simple question.
She shoved herself away from him and fought to fill her constricted lungs with oxygen, taking several deep, uneven breaths.
“Kathleen, what—”
“I can’t… can’t be… be with you,” she said quickly, before she changed her mind.
“Why the hell not?” He broke off and looked at her for a moment before saying softly, “I’m sorry. That was an ungentlemanly thing to ask.” He shook his head ruefully and plowed frustrated fingers through the hair that was still mussed from her caresses. He chuckled without mirth. “I just wish you had told me this was ‘that time of the month’ fifteen minutes ago.”
It took her a moment before she realized what conclusion he had jumped to. Had it not been so dark, he would have seen how embarrassed she was by his supposition, but it was better to have him think she was having a period than for him to know the real reason she wouldn’t go with him.