This Love Will Go On (11 page)

He gave her the rope and she sat down on the cold wood, tucking her feet under the protective curve. “I'm ready.”

The snow crunched under his boots. She braced herself, waiting for the jolt that would tell her he had pushed her into motion. Instead, she felt Jade sit down behind her and wrap her in the hard strength of his legs. The sudden warmth of his body shielding hers from the wind was comforting…and soul-destroying.  Before she could utter a protest, he snugged her into the curve of his body and wrapped his arms around her waist.  “Ready?”

“No, Jade…”

He pushed off with his feet, sending the toboggan over the crest.  The wind blew her words out of her mouth, tousled the long length of her hair under her knit cap and feathered it back over Jade. If it was in his face, he made no move to brush it away.  He tightened his grip and created a wonderful shelter for her. They sailed over a hard bump, bounced, and picked up speed. The wind and the cold and the speed were exhilarating, as exciting as the feel of Jade's arms around her and the rub of her hips against the curve of his body.  Down and down they flew, picking up momentum as the earth fell away in front of them.  In one last spurt of speed, the toboggan slid to a curving stop at the bottom of the hill. Thrown forward and then back, Raine felt the hard muscles of his arms gripping her in a protective hold.  Then all motion ceased.  Jade didn't get up. He sat holding her in that intimate position. Her heart thundered and, sure that he could hear it, her mind issued the command to move. Her muscles refused, while her nerves sent the heady message of Jade's proximity straight to her brain.  She savored every moment of his nearness.

“All right?” he said softly.

Brought back to reality with a jolt, she said, “Yes, of course.”

Another minute of time passed. He moved, straightening up. His boots planted in the snow, he held out his hand. She took it, feeling the fine balance of his body as he braced himself to take the weight of hers. He pulled her up too hard, too fast. She slammed into him and felt the rock-hard readiness of his muscles waiting to receive her weight. He had done it on purpose.  Instantly, his arms encircled her and just as instantly, her body sang into life.

Determined not to let him know how much he disturbed her, she pushed her hands against his chest.  “Thanks for the help.”  Her tone was dry.  His hands tightened. “Anytime.”

She stood in his arms, unwilling to struggle, afraid to reveal her eagerness to be away from him.  He held her for another long, tantalizing moment. Then his hands slid slowly down her arms and left her. A chill racked her that had nothing to do with cold.  Free of his grip, she turned away, determined not to betray her reaction to his nearness and vowing to stay off that sled.  But the next minute, Tate was beside them, begging to be taken on the toboggan. Jade, his mouth tilted in male challenge, insisted that she ride along.

She was caught. If she refused, he would know that his nearness disturbed her. If she went, she would be forced to let him hold her. Not willing to examine the truth too closely, she went.

Again and again, Jade tucked his son in the front, helped her settle in the middle, enfolded her in his embrace and pushed off. Again and again, she gritted her teeth and steeled herself against the feel of his chest against her back, his hard thighs clamped around her hips, his arms around her waist. It was a contest of wills, a battle she must win.

Supremely unaware of the tension between the two adults he loved, Tate enjoyed every minute of the exciting rides. He laughed, a high-pitched cry of glee as they flew with daredevil speed over the snow. The puppy yipped in furious reply and scrambled down the hill beside them, struggling to keep upright on the slippery snow.

On the third trip, the dog ran in front of the toboggan and nearly met an untimely end. Tate became frightened by his pet's near miss with danger and insisted on holding the dog in his lap for the next trip down the hill.

Raine said quickly, “You go ahead without me.”  Jade raked her with a mocking smile.  Deliberately, she cast an anxious look in the direction of the road.  “I'll stay here and wait for Doug.”

A frown tightened those amber gold brows. “All right, if you’re sure.” He sat down behind Tate and the dog and with one powerful thrust of his leg sent them over the crest of the hill, the tall dark figure protectively hugging the small boy.  Seeing him with Tate only deepened her feeling for Jade.  How long could she go on pretending indifference to that lean male body that had settled in behind her on every run? Each time he had sat down on that sled behind her, she became more addicted to the feel of those muscled legs and that lithe male form under his open jacket. Her resolve to stay away from him weakened with every trip down that hill.  His body was that of a cowboy, broad shouldered and narrow waisted with a flat, hard-muscled stomach that gravity would never pull into a paunch.  How long could she go on before she gave in to Jade--and to her own desperate longing to know his body in the most intimate way of all?  She blocked that agonizing thought out of her mind and turned to stare at the road.  Doug's blue Volkswagen was nowhere in sight. Had she misunderstood him? She didn't think so. Where was he?

A half-hour later, thoroughly chilled from standing around, she accepted the fact that Doug wasn't coming.  For some reason, he hadn't been able to keep their date, and of course he had no way of letting her know.  She stomped her feet on the hard-packed snow and stuffed her mittened hands into her pockets.  Cold penetrated into her bones. 

Jade had not invited her to ride on the sled again, but when he saw her moving in a restless attempt to get warm, he said, “Sure you wouldn't like one more ride?” 

“No thanks, I'm fine.”

He didn't move away immediately, and she felt his eyes going over her, even though she was looking away from him, out over the road.  After a long, vibrant moment, he turned away and sat down on the sled with Tate. They flew over the crest of the hill, but when they trudged back up, Jade said to Tate, “I think that's enough for today, son. Your Aunt Raine is turning blue.”

Tate squinted up at her and said, “Where? I don't see any blue spots.”

“They're not in places where you can see them,” his father drawled, his eyes dropping to her chest.

“Please don't change your plans on my account.  I'm fine.” She hugged her arms around her and turned away from Jade to gaze beyond his shoulder at the road.

“Still think he's coming?” Jade's voice was quiet.

She shook her head.  “Something's happened. He may have gotten a call from his boss. He often does on Saturdays.”

“Tough luck,” Jade said unsympathetically.

“We're not all lucky enough to work for ourselves,” she retorted, her voice as cool as the air around her.

Tate, holding the puppy, squinted up at her.  “You sound just like Mommy used to before she left. Are you going to get mad and go away, too?”

Over the top of Tate's head, her eyes met Jade's, and for one blinding moment, a fierce blaze of emotion flared in those green depths, an emotion so powerful she could feel it to the tips of her frozen toes.  Shaken, she stooped down to Tate and caught his shoulder with her mittened hand.  “Of course not, honey. I'm not going anywhere, no matter how mad I sound.”  She took off her mitten and brushed his snow-wet cheek with her hand, wishing she could brush away his apprehensions as easily and smiled at the boy, forcing brightness into her tone.  “I've got a paper to get out every week, remember?”

“I ‘member,” Tate said solemnly.

Abruptly, Jade swiveled away. Upset that Tate thought her as capable of deserting him as Michele had been, she watched as Jade collected the toboggan and the dish sled and lifted them both into the back of the truck.

Moments later, they were on their way. Beside her on the seat, Tate was quiet.  Even the puppy seemed subdued. She felt exhausted herself, though she'd done only half the hill climbing Jade and Tate had, and it was barely past noon.  She closed her eyes against the glare of the sun and shut out her thoughts as well. The heater didn't begin to take the chill away.  It did warm her a little though, but when they came to a stop and she opened her eyes, a chill that had nothing to do with cold flared through her.  They were in the yard in front of Jade's house.

“Why didn't you take me back to town?”

“Tate and I decided you should stay for lunch.”

“I can't do that.”

“You can't do anything else unless you feel like walking five miles back to town.”

She didn't feel like walking at all, and five miles back to town was out of the question.  Of course, she could have lunch with Tate and Jade.  Tate would be an adequate chaperone.  Not that she thought she needed to be protected from Jade.  It was her own errant thoughts that spelled danger, and surely, in Tate's presence, she could control those.

Raine hadn’t been in the house in ages, but once she walked inside, she felt as if she had never been away.  She remembered how the light streamed down through the skylight in the open entryway and how the contemporary house, built of glass and cedar, had always made her feel so comfortable and at home with its open-beamed ceiling and feeling of light and space. The house had been the topic of conversation for a year after it was finished.  The people in Verylon were skeptical about its ability to stand up against the severe weather.  Harry announced to Jade that one good prairie wind would blow the whole thing away.  “That peaked roof will catch every breeze,” he'd told Jade bluntly.  “With all that glass, you'll freeze to death in the wintertime.  Cost you a fortune to heat it.  Then of course, you’ll cook in the summer.”

But Jade had gone over the plans with the architect carefully, searching for flaws in the house.  There were none.  Now, nestled in the trees Jade had planted seven years ago, the house was as beautiful as it had been the day it was completed.  And strangely enough, she thought, as she walked into the living room with its plush leather couch built into the sunken conversation pit around the fireplace, it wasn't Michele she remembered as she looked around.  It was the ghost of herself, cleaning, rearranging furniture, picking up Michele's magazines that she had strewn on the floor, vacuuming the bronze carpeting.

“Here, let me take your coat,” Jade said, after he had instructed Tate to sit down on the floor and unzip his boots.

His fingers grazed hers and she couldn't control the shiver that racked her body. His eyes, darkly concerned, probed her face.  “Are you that cold?”

“No.” He hung up her coat and then clasped her hand, breathing in sharply when her cold flesh came in contact with his warm palm. “Woman, your fingers are like icicles.” He shrugged out of his coat and stowed it away. “Go on up to the bathroom and run a tub of hot water.”

Sitting at Jade's feet, Tate had removed one boot. Now he worked on the other, his tongue caught between his teeth at the side of his mouth. In spite of Tate's presence, her mind served up another occasion when he had suggested she take a hot bath. She turned away to look around the house as if she were a polite guest “I’m fine,” she said, folding her arms around her midriff in a vain attempt to warm her hands.

Moving behind her to shield her from Tate, he said in an undertone directly into her ear, “Do you think you're safe because Tate is here? Believe me, you're not.” He paused, his breath moving her hair.  “If what you really want is for me to carry you up there and strip you myself, I'd be more than happy to oblige.” From behind her, his hand started at her elbow and slid along her clasped arms until his fingertips grazed the peak of her breast.

“Take your hands off of me,” she ordered in a husky undertone as quiet as his.

“Only if you go up those stairs and take a bath,” he murmured, the words softly menacing, “or are you resisting because you like my method of persuasion?”

“Your 'method of persuasion' doesn't affect me in the slightest,” she got out between gritted teeth.

“Stay here,” he murmured, “and I'll expand on the theme.” Above her cradled arms, the arrogantly male fingers brushed over her breasts in a slow, circular path. Even through the heavy wool of her sweater, the caress was heady, devastating. She fought to contain the leap of nerves under her skin and to stand rock still under his insolent handling.

“Stop touching me,” she ordered in a gritty undertone.  “Now.”

“Are you going to go up and take a bath?” His fingers possessed her even more intimately, claiming the hard bud that bloomed to his touch. His lips found a soft, vulnerable place behind her ear.

A warmth flared upward from the pit of her stomach. Oh, dear heaven, even like this, with Jade touching her just to prove his power over her, she still wanted him. With a low cry, she wrenched away and ran to the stairs. As she bounded up the half flight, she heard Tate's childish voice saying, “What's the matter with Aunt Raine, Daddy?  Why is she running?”

What Jade's answer was, she didn't know. She didn't want to think about how even that cavalier exploration of her breast through her sweater had made her want to turn in his arms and let him touch her in any way he wanted to.

She hurried past Jade’s sanctuary, her body chilled.  Inside the bathroom, she locked the door and stripped off her clothes. Shaking, both from the cold and from her encounter with Jade, she went through the cupboard, found some bubble liquid Jade obviously kept for Tate, and tipped the container over the water.  She slid into the tub, feeling an instant ‘ah’ from the warmth. It closed around her like a caress.