Hidden Talents (18 page)

“Cut the crap,” Blade ordered. “Just tell us straight out if you're foolin' around with Serenity or if you're serious about her.”

“If I tell you that I'm merely toying with her affections, and have absolutely no serious intentions whatsoever, are you going to tie me hand and foot, weight me down with a chunk of cement, and drop me into one of these pools?”

Blade lifted one heavy shoulder. “Sounds good to me.”

“She's one of us,” Quinton said quietly. “The first kid ever actually born right here in Witt's End. We don't want her hurt.”

“I don't intend to hurt her.” Caleb's hand tightened around the beer bottle. “Christ almighty, don't you understand? That's the last thing I want.”

The other three contemplated him in silence. Blade and Montrose finished their beer and put the bottles back in the carton.

“What do you want?” Quinton finally asked.

Caleb looked deeply into the pool. “I want her.”

It felt good to say the words aloud. For some reason the verbal declaration made him feel more centered, a little more connected to the world.

“Wanting her isn't good enough,” Quinton said softly.

Caleb spread the fingers of his left hand on his thigh. “I'll take care of her. I give you my word on it.”

No one said anything for a long while after that. Caleb was vaguely aware of the passing of time, but he felt no sense of urgency to leave the warm cavern. He drank his beer slowly and watched the vapor form and dissolve above the hot spring pool.

“Gettin' late,” Blade said eventually. “Reckon I'll be on my way. Got to make my rounds.” He rose and unbuckled a small flashlight from the array of equipment that decorated his belt. He handed it to Caleb. “Here. You might need this to find your way back down the path.”

“Thanks.” Caleb thrust the flashlight into the pocket of his jacket.

Quinton and Montrose waited until the hollow echo of Blade's heavy boots on the stone floor faded. Then they, too, got up without a word and walked out of the cave. From the corner of his eye Caleb watched them leave. He stayed where he was. For some reason he didn't feel like joining them.

He could find his way back down the path to Witt's End, he thought. It wouldn't be difficult. He wanted to be by himself for a while.

He closed his eyes and wondered what his relatives would say if they could see him now, sitting alone in a cave warmed by mysterious hot springs.

Time passed. It could have been minutes or hours. Caleb had no way of knowing. He opened his eyes and started to look at his watch. But his attention was captured by the whirling mists above the hot pool.

The vapor appeared denser now than it had earlier. There was more volume to it, a sense of depth and darkness. Caleb studied it with an odd detachment, the way he might have studied a painting. Something about the steam drew his eye down to the water.

The crystal clear waters of the pool slowly began to flow around a central point, becoming a vortex that sank deeper and deeper into the spring.

A hallway took shape within the whirlpool. It had no beginning and no end. There were doors in the walls. Caleb knew that one of them offered escape from the endless hallway. All he had to do was find the right door.

As he gazed, fascinated, into the endless, whirling corridor, he saw the figure of a man running swiftly through it. As the figure moved through the hall, he paused long enough to open each door that he passed. Time after time he found himself looking through a doorway into a featureless gray room. Each time he closed the door and ran on to the next.

Caleb could not see the man's face, but was certain he knew him. He could feel what the figure in the tunnel was feeling. He knew his thoughts, sensed the urgency that drove him. There was a shattering awareness that time was running out. His pulse was pounding and sweat had dampened his clothes.

He was the man running through the endless hallway.

He wanted to stop but he could not. The darkness at the end of the corridor was waiting to claim him. He had to keep moving; he had to keep opening doors, hoping each time that he would find the right one before it was too late.

He had to find her. She held his future in her hands
.

Caleb's fingers closed around another doorknob. It was icy cold beneath his fingers. This was the last door.

He opened it.

The room behind the door was not gray like the others. It was bright and white and filled with sunshine.

And she was there.

Relief cascaded over him when he saw that she was waiting for him with the infants cradled in her arms. He walked into the room.

Somewhere in the distance a waltz was playing.

She smiled at him.

He reached for her.

The vision in the pool vanished.

Caleb awoke abruptly. He drew a ragged breath and wiped sweat from his forehead. His pulse thudded heavily, as if he had been running hard for a long distance.

For an instant he couldn't get his bearings. Then he saw the mist rising above the rocky pool. It curled and twisted and dissipated in an endless pattern.

In spite of the warmth created by the springs, a cold shudder went through him. He glanced around the dimly lit cavern and then looked at his watch. With a shock he realized that it was nearly midnight. The others had left over an hour ago.

Caleb got to his feet, aware that his heartbeat was slowing to its normal rate. He walked to the entrance of the cavern and stood looking out into the night. A handful of scattered lights from various cabins sparkled through the trees down below. He knew that the welcoming glow from the nearest windows came from Serenity's cottage at the foot of the path.

He started to reach into the pocket of his jacket for the flashlight Blade had given him. Then he realized he didn't need it. There was enough moonlight to light his way.

It took ten minutes to make his way to Serenity's cottage. The porch light was still on over the front door.

He walked up the steps and knocked. Serenity, bundled up in a robe and slippers, opened the door immediately. Her hair was a frothy tangle of red curls. He knew from the anxious expression in her beautiful eyes that she had been waiting for him.

“Caleb.” She smiled tremulously. “I was beginning to get a little worried. Quinton and the others came by over an hour ago to tell me you were alone in the cave. They said you'd probably stop here on your way down.”

“The last door,” Caleb whispered.

“What?”

“Forget it.” He reached for her.

She didn't vanish.

Caleb pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her scented hair. “I want you.”

“I know. It's all right, Caleb. I want you, too. You must know that.”

He lifted his head and looked down into her brilliant eyes. He was lost in the vision he saw there. “I need you.”

She turned her head and kissed his throat. “Yes. I need you, too. It's time.”

He swept her up into his arms, kicked the door shut and carried her down the hall to the bedroom. The beaded curtain around her bed glittered in the shadows.

Caleb pushed through the sparkling curtain. It shivered like the water on the surface of a crystal spring. A thousand tiny glass beads clashed and chimed in the darkness.

He fell onto the bed with Serenity in his arms. The force of his need made his hands shake.

Serenity moaned softly. She burrowed against him with a hot, sweet abandon. Caleb's entire body tightened in fierce arousal. The smell of her, spicy and unbearably female, stoked the fires within him. With a groan he thrust his leg between hers and tugged at the sash of her robe.

Beneath the robe Caleb discovered a warm, flannel nightgown. He struggled with it impatiently, shoving the hem up to Serenity's waist. His hand skimmed eagerly over her smooth, soft skin until he found the inviting nest of hair.

She arched against him. “Yes.
Please
.”

“Tell me,” Caleb muttered. “Tell me how much you want me.”

“I can't. There are no words.”

“Then show me.” Caleb took her mouth with swift urgency and slipped his fingers into her moist heat. “God, yes. Like that.”

He moved his lips to her throat while he fought to lower the zipper of his jeans. Then he fumbled blindly in his pocket for the small foil packet.

It seemed to take forever before he was ready, but in reality it was only a few damp, breathless moments. When he shifted position to settle between Serenity's legs, his foot thrust through the beaded curtain. The glass beads danced.

“Caleb?”

“Right here.” He felt the warmth of her soft, inner thighs cradle him. She was wet and ready and reaching for him.

He had never wanted anything this badly in his whole life. He reached down to guide himself to the sultry entrance of her body. He groaned as he thrust slowly and deliberately into her.

She was warm and slick and so snug that he could hardly breathe.
Too tight.

He heard her catch her breath, felt her stiffen as he sank deeply into her softness. He stopped, shaken.

“My God, Serenity.”

“No, don't leave me,” she whispered. “It's time. You're the right man.”

“Are you all right?” he managed hoarsely.

“Yes. Yes, I'm all right.” She wrapped her arms around him and lifted her hips. “It's just that I never dreamed it would be like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like finding the other half of myself.”

He waged a monumental battle with his self-control, but it slipped from his grasp even as Serenity drew him into her. He held her more tightly than he had ever held anyone or anything else in his life.

Triumph, satisfaction, a feeling of wholeness and a pounding sense of joy raced through him, a fabulous maelstrom of emotions that he could not begin to sort out. He didn't care. He only knew one thing for certain in that gloriously shattering moment, and that was enough for now.

He was alive.

The light moved like a shower of jewels across his face. Caleb sensed the various colors—amber, ruby, emerald, sapphire. It was a strange sensation, not unpleasant, just odd. He waited a moment to see if the feeling would pass. When it didn't, he reluctantly opened his eyes. He found himself lying in a pool of sunlight filtered through the veil of glass beads that formed the curtain around Serenity's bed.

He turned his head and realized that he was alone. The sound of running water told him that Serenity was in the shower. For a moment he lay still, half afraid the memories of the night might dissipate like steam off a hot spring pool.

But a reassuring sense of reality poured in along with the morning sun. He was definitely in Serenity's bed. The warm, rumpled sheets and the satisfaction that permeated his whole body constituted all the proof he needed that he had not been dreaming. He pictured Serenity in the shower and smiled. He sat up and started to thrust aside the covers.

The sight of the three black-and-white glossies scattered across the quilt caused him to go completely still.

For a long moment Caleb gazed at each picture in turn. Ambrose Asterley had done the impossible. He had captured a creature of light and magic on photographic film.

In one of the shots Serenity reclined on a large boulder, looking back over her shoulder at the camera. Her eyes held the innocently sensual curiosity of a woodland nymph. The curve of her hip and thigh echoed the shape of the sun-dappled rock beneath her.

The second pose showed her sitting on the rock, knees drawn up to her chin. There was nothing explicit about the pose, although she was clearly nude. Asterley had obviously been more intrigued by the play of light and shadow on feminine skin than he was with titillating the viewer.

The third shot showed Serenity lying on her stomach, trailing her fingers in a stream. Once again there was an enthralling, earthy innocence about the picture as she gazed into the water. She was not just a woman lying on a rock beside a stream, she was Woman, a gentle goddess secure in the power of her femininity.

Caleb looked at the three pictures and knew that he had just been given a very rare and precious gift.

With a sense of reverence, he gathered the photos together. The beaded curtain clashed and shimmered as he pushed it aside. He laid Serenity's pictures on the bedside table and walked toward the bathroom.

The phone in the living room rang just as he started to open the bathroom door. Caleb hesitated, shrugged, and closed the door again. He scooped up his trousers from the floor where he'd tossed them sometime during the night and went into the front room of the cottage to answer the summons.

“Hello?”

“Caleb, for God's sake, is that you?” Franklin's voice was harsh, almost frantic on the other end of the line. “Your secretary gave me this number this morning. I've been trying to reach you since yesterday.”

Caleb went cold. “What's wrong? Has something happened to my grandfather?”

“No, it's not that.”

“Then what's the problem?” Something inside Caleb untwisted.
Roland was all right
. Someday, Caleb realized with a strange jolt, he would have to deal with the news of his grandfather's death.
But not today, thank God. Not today
.

He was startled by the force of his reaction. He never allowed himself to think too much about his feelings for the old man, beyond his anger.

“Caleb, I think you should know that yesterday afternoon I paid five thousand dollars for a set of pornographic pictures.”

“That's a little steep for porn, Uncle Franklin. Sounds like you got ripped off.”

“This is no joke,” Franklin whispered in a hoarse, strangled voice. “I paid five thousand dollars to a blackmailer, do you hear me? Five thousand dollars. I got a call after you left Ventress Valley yesterday. I was told I had to come up with the money or photos of your new lady friend would be sent to the papers.”

“Serenity?” For an instant Caleb didn't comprehend. Then it hit him. “Shit. Someone sent you the photos?”

“You know about these pictures?”

“Hell, yes.”

“She's naked in them, Caleb. She posed nude for these pictures. They're obscene. This is Crystal Brooke all over again.
What have you done
?”