Fools Rush In (23 page)

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It was midafternoon before Erin and Max were able to get seats on a flight to Denver. They arrived just in time to join the mass exodus of local citizens headed for the mountains for the weekend, and by the time they rented a car and drove the remaining hundred or so miles, it was after eight when they reached Vail.

Erin was nervous and fidgety during the entire trip. Trying to take her mind off the situation and the possibility that they had come on a wild-goose chase, Max kept up a steady stream of conversation, telling her about his family and about growing up in Santa Fe and regaling her with stories of the mischief he and Sam had gotten into as boys. Erin was so distracted that she didn't hear half of it.

"You're going to have to guide me from here," Max said when they saw the first exit sign for Vail.

"Get off the interstate at the main exit." Erin peered out the windshield, her clipped voice and stiff posture revealing her tension.

Following her directions, Max took the off ramp to the south frontage road leading to the west end of town, then turned left. They crossed a bridge, and immediately the narrow gravel lane made a sharp turn back toward the east and began to climb. Set among the stately pines and aspens at widely spaced intervals on either side of the road, summer homes clung to the lower slope of the mountain. Several hundred feet below, the lights of Vail Village sparkled along its base like a scattering of diamonds.

The cabin belonging to Erin's family was an oversize redwood and glass A-frame with a wide deck all around.

There was a two-car garage at road level, but the cabin itself was perched high above it, reached by a long flight of wooden steps.

"Someone's here," Erin said excitedly, craning her neck to look up the mountainside as Max brought the car to a halt in the short driveway.

Light blazed from the triangular wall at the front of the structure and spilled down the slope, illuminating the trees and bracken with a soft golden glow.

Max was impressed by the commanding view the site afforded, but Erin seemed oblivious to it as she scrambled from the car and raced up the steps ahead of him, her footsteps thumping noisily on the wooden planks.

By the time he reached the top she had already knocked on the door. She cast him an anxious glance when he came to stand beside her, but neither spoke. For a minute all they heard was the rustle of leaves stirring in the wind and a staccato tapping on the redwood deck as Erin rapped an impatient tattoo with the toe of her shoe.

Then the door opened, and her face lit up.

"Elise, we've— Oh!" She stopped abruptly and stared, crestfallen, at the unfamiliar woman standing in the doorway. "I... I'm sorry. We... were expecting to find someone else here," she finally managed to stammer."

"Who is it, honey?" a male voice called, and a moment later a large man joined the woman in the doorway. He looked at Erin and Max and frowned. "What's the problem?"

"We're looking for Elise Holman," Max put in. "Is she, by chance, staying here with you?"

"There's no one here by that name," the man replied irritably. "You've got the wrong place."

"No, her family owns this cabin. We thought she was staying here."

"Well, she's not. We leased this place for two weeks, and our time isn't up for another couple of days. You can check with the real estate office in town."

Erin stirred at Max's side and made a despairing little sound. He slipped his arm around her waist and edged her toward the steps. "Our mistake. Sorry to have troubled you."

Excitement had kept Erin from feeling the chill of the mountain air, but as Max guided her down the steps she shivered. He pulled her closer against his side with a murmured "I'm sorry, darling."

She gave him a wan smile and nodded, too despondent to speak.

When they were seated in the car he turned to her, searching her face worriedly. "Well, what do we do now?"

"She's here somewhere, Max," Erin insisted. "I can feel her fear and anxiety. It's so strong that it's blocking out all her thoughts, but I know she's close by."

Max hesitated, and she felt a surge of panic, knowing he doubted her. She couldn't blame him; it must seem to him that she was grasping at straws. But the feelings buffeting her were real, and somehow she had to make him believe in them, too.

Before she could plead her case Max's face took on a decisive firmness. "All right. If you feel that strongly about it, I'll start searching first thing tomorrow morning." He ran his knuckles down her cheek and looked at her lovingly. "Now I suggest we find a place to stay before it gets too late. Tomorrow promises to be a busy day."

Though it was off season, Vail attracted many summer tourists, and they went to three places before finding a vacancy at one of the ski lodges just off Bridge Street, in the heart of the village.

Erin was drooping with fatigue and depression, and when they entered the room she opted for a long, hot bath. Later, after taking a shower, Max emerged from the bathroom, expecting to find her curled up in bed, sound asleep. Instead she was standing at the balcony doors, her back to the room.

She was barefoot and wearing a long turquoise nightgown that skimmed her body in a whisper of silk. Her arms were crossed over her midriff, and she was absently massaging her elbows as she gazed out at the lights of Vail.

Watching her, Max rubbed his wet hair with a towel. "Do you want me to order something from room service? You didn't eat much on the plane."

"No thanks. I'm not hungry."

Her pleasant tone didn't fool him; he knew her much too well for that. When he thought about it, it amazed Max that they had met only a little over four days ago. The way he felt, it just as easily could have been four years, because he loved her completely, irrevocably.

They had been four days fraught with intense emotion, the kind that telescopes time and strips away all pretense, exposing with ruthless honesty a person's private self. Erin, he had learned, was a strong, courageous, intelligent and spirited woman. He had seen her angry, loving, terrified, sad, hopeful, despairing. By now he could read her moods as well as his own, and he knew that she had reached a low ebb.

Wearing only a towel knotted about his hips, he crossed the room to stand behind her and cupped the rounded curves of her shoulders, kneading gently. His heart swelled with gladness at the natural way she leaned back against him, and with a smile he rubbed his chin against her crown. The sweet, clean fragrance of her hair drifted to him like subtle perfume. Fine strands caught in the hint of stubble along his jaw, and like slippery silk, the soft curls slid back and forth with each tiny movement.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmured, curving his arms around her waist and crossing them over her midriff.

Erin sighed and placed her arms atop his. Absently her nails raked his forearms as her fingers sifted through the smattering of hair covering them. "Oh, Max," she said in a forlorn voice. "I was so hoping that we'd find her tonight."

"I know, sweetheart. I know." Her disappointment was a palpable thing, and feeling it, Max gritted his teeth in frustration.

"She's still here somewhere, Max," Erin said quietly. "I know she is."

"I'll start searching first thing in the morning, sweetheart. If she's here, I'll find her. I promise."

It was a promise Max desperately hoped he would be able to keep. He was uneasy relying on something as insubstantial as feelings, especially since he was concerned that they might stem more from desire than fact.

Max wanted to set Erin's heart at ease, but for now there was little he could do. Feeling frustrated and helpless, he held her close and rocked her within his embrace as they gazed down in somber silence at the picturesque mountain resort.

After a moment Max bent his head and nuzzled her neck, then turned her to face him, still holding her within the circle of his arms. His lips met hers in a soft, loving kiss, and when he pulled back he smiled at her tenderly. "You're as taut as a bowstring, and you're dead on your feet. C'mon," he said, nudging her toward the bed. "A good night's sleep is what you need."

Erin didn't argue, and a moment later she was lying in his arms, her head cradled on his shoulder. Max gazed up through the darkness at the ceiling, gritting his teeth. The feel of her, soft and yielding at his side, was sheer torture. He wanted her so much that he ached all over. Every muscle was clenched, his body throbbing and hot with desire.

But she was exhausted, physically and mentally. She needed rest, and he'd promised himself that she would get it, even if it killed him.

Her hand lay curled on his chest, and he felt her breath skim across his shoulder, warm and moist and soft as a feather. One of her legs was hooked intimately over his. The sole of her foot rubbed against his shin, and the soft abrasion sent fire rushing straight to his loins. He swallowed hard and struggled to subdue his raging passion, but when she pressed her parted lips against his neck he could not stifle the low moan that shuddered from him.

"Love me, Max," she whispered. Her tongue trailed a wet pattern over his skin. "I want you to make love to me."

Max squeezed his eyes shut. "Sweetheart," he gasped. "You... you're exhausted. You need rest." The throbbing in his loins intensified. He was so hot and hungry for her that he felt ready to explode.

"I need you more." Erin snuggled closer and moved urgently against him, her soft breasts pressing against his side. Making an inarticulate little sound, she nipped him with sweet savagery. "Please, Max."

It was more than he could take. With a rough, guttural growl, he rolled her to her back and took her mouth in a fierce kiss that sent desire spiraling out of control.

Erin's prolonged moan of pleasure was swallowed up in the kiss as their mouths rocked together. Her hands clutched him tightly, the nails digging into the hard muscles that banded his shoulders and back.

Breathing hard, Max pulled away and rose to his knees. Looming over her, his face rigid with desire in the pale moonlight pouring through the glass doors, he stripped the nightgown from her body and tossed it aside. The wisp of silk fluttered, ghostlike, to the floor, settling in a dark puddle against the ivory carpet.

Stretching out on the bed, his body half covering her, Max cupped her breasts in his broad palms. He kneaded the lush mounds and gently pinched the pink tips. Then he lowered his head, and Erin gave a thin cry, her back arching, as his hot mouth closed over her nipple and drew on her with a slow, rhythmic suction.

Their hands roamed freely, frantically over each other, touching everywhere. There was an urgency about their lovemaking, a silent desperation that drove them both. Sand was pouring through the hourglass; time was running out. They both sensed it, and the uncertainty of their future made them grasp at these precious moments with frenzied need.

"God, I can't get enough of you," Max groaned as his lips trailed over her flesh. He kissed the silky valley between her breasts; then his head slid downward. Heat and moisture filled her navel as he brushed his open mouth back and forth over it. His tongue swirled a wet circle around the tiny cavity, stabbed into it, withdrew and circled again. Erin shivered and moaned, driven nearly mindless by the sweet torment.

"Max. Oh, my love," she murmured ardently. Her restless hands flexed against his shoulders and trailed down his chest, fingers twining through the crisp hairs. Max jerked as her nails flicked the tiny nipples nestled there, then gave a low growl as her exploring hands slid downward. The growl became a groan, and shudders racked him as her warm hand lovingly enfolded his velvet hardness.

Max kissed her nipples and the undersides of her breasts as his fingers threaded through the nest of fiery curls at the apex of her thighs.

"Oh, Max!" Erin gasped at his probing, intimate touch.

He found her warm and wet and welcoming, and the discovery snapped the last tenuous thread of his control. He rose above her, moving into position between her silky thighs, and as their gazes locked, he made them one.

He thrust deep and stilled. Braced on his forearms, he remained motionless for several seconds, his head thrown back, his features clenched in delicious agony. Erin reached up and touched his face, and he turned his head and pressed a hot kiss against her palm.

Then the rhythmic movement began.

For long, ecstatic moments afterward, the moonlit room was filled with sighs and velvet murmurs, the soft, sensual sounds of love.

In the quiet aftermath, Erin slept peacefully, wrapped in Max's arms while, once again, he lay awake in the darkness. He was exhausted, his body sated from their loving, but his mind would not let him rest.

He rubbed his jaw against Erin's hair, his arms tightening around her. God, how he loved her. More than anything in the world. He wasn't quite sure how it had happened, but it had. And love, he was discovering, brought out some very interesting, primitive instincts in a man.

At the moment, he felt an overwhelming need to protect Erin from being hurt, physically and emotionally. But could he?

The mad situation they were caught up in could very well end tragically, especially for Elise. It might have already, though he didn't have the heart to point that out to Erin. He wasn't going to be the one to destroy what little hope she had. He knew, with gut-wrenching certainty, that if anything had happened to her twin, the effect on Erin would be devastating.