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And then, over his shoulder, she noticed the portrait again. Stiffening, she tried to pull away. "It's too public here," she whispered.
His head snapped up, a dazed look on his face. After a moment he managed a weak smile. "You make me forget everything but you."
"I'm flattered," she said, teasing him. "For a minute there, I don't believe you even knew we were still at the hotel."
His expression was rueful, his voice gruff. "You're right. You have a powerful effect on me, Corrie Ballantyne."
Then he sighed. "I have one or two things to see to before I'm through for the night."
"I understand." But she knew her disappointment must be evident in her voice.
"May I come to your room later, when I'm free?"
Still held close to him, breathing his fresh scent, one hand touching the silky softness of his hair and the other resting against the fine fabric of his shirt, Corrie kept her eyes away from the fireplace, but she didn't have to see Adrienne's portrait to be reminded of the terrible truth. There was nowhere in this hotel where she wouldn't feel a ghostly presence.
The idea of an invisible witness to all they did was not conducive to making love with Lucas.
"I'm not sure coming to my room is such a good idea," she murmured.
Very carefully, he set her away from him. An acute awkwardness settled between them, almost palpable in the quiet, dimly lit room.
Lucas hesitated, then said, "We can just go back to the party if you like."
"That's not exactly what I meant," she whispered.
Being with Lucas had definite appeal, but only if she felt she could trust her own judgment. As far as she had been able to observe, Adrienne only knew, and could only show Corrie, and could only control things that happened in the hotel or within sight of its windows. If they were somewhere else, then anything that happened between herself and Lucas would be because Corrie wanted it.
She was appalled by the brazenness of what she meant to suggest, but she could not face the thought of ending her relationship with Lucas without ever knowing the sweetness of making love with him.
This was crazy. She knew that. Their timing couldn't have been worse. But there was something good between them, something that deserved a chance to grow.
Her vacation was almost over, she reminded herself. It would be better not to start anything.
But it was already started.
And it didn't have to end just because there was going to be some geographical distance between them. She was enough of a realist to know that long-distance romances rarely worked, but this was Lucas. She had to try.
"Could we go to your cabin instead?" she asked.
Everything he wanted was his for the taking, but Lucas paused to enjoy a slow, appreciative perusal of the woman he held in his arms. They were in his bed, flesh to flesh, but this was about more than s.e.x. He'd never felt such a sense of rightness in these moments prior to making love.
"Elegant," he murmured.
She started to protest.
With just his fingertips he traced the curve of her eyebrows. His other hand caressed her silken shoulder.
"You have no idea, have you, of how perfect you are?"
Rather than let her reply, he sealed her lips with a kiss of devastating thoroughness. They were both breathless when they came up for air . . . and pressed as close together as two people could be without actually being joined.
"You seem pretty perfect to me, too, just now." Her eyes dark with pa.s.sion, she gazed up at him.
There was a rightness about the two of them, he thought. Here. Together. Lucas made no attempt to a.n.a.lyze the feeling. He simply accepted it. This was meant to be. He and Corrie were destined to find each other, to revel in their mutual discovery of joy. Of love.
From that point on, he made love to her in reverent silence, letting his body speak for him. With infinite slowness, prolonging the pleasure, he touched and stroked, delved and sipped.
Corrie answered his tender caresses with her own, exploring him as he learned her secrets. Together they built toward the moment when need overcame control. He barely had the presence of mind to fumble for protection before they were swept as one into a soul-shattering, mind-bending race to completion.
It was magnificent.
And it was over far too soon.
Utter contentment filled Corrie's heart as she woke with her head nestled against Lucas's chest. She was still savoring the afterglow of the most memorable lovemaking she'd ever experienced.
Momentarily sated, she had no interest in Monday-morning quarterbacking. They'd taken this step in their relationship with their eyes open, and it had been the right thing to do. She had no idea what would happen next, and at that precise moment, she couldn't find energy enough to care.
She could, however, find sufficient strength to respond when Lucas awoke and kissed the healing gash on her forehead.
Such a little thing, an act of caring, of kindness, yet it triggered so much more. They were lying too close together for her to miss his reaction.
Just as quickly, she wanted him again too.
A giggle escaped her. "Insatiable," she whispered.
"Am I alone in that?"
"Not a chance."
This time she took the lead, showing him just how much she shared his desire, his need. Touching him was pure pleasure. Easing herself slowly along his body until she straddled him, kissing every available surface in her path, she brought them together in a fiery consummation every bit as satisfying as their first encounter.
One arm lay on the pillow, extended so that she could see her watch without moving. It was past noon. Corrie lay perfectly still for several minutes more, reconstructing the events of the early-morning hours. She could hear Lucas moving about in the kitchen below.
Smiling, she sat up and made a quick survey of her surroundings. Her overnight bag was on the floor by a chair. She'd never had a chance to open it and take out her nightwear, let alone hang up a change of clothes. Her things would be hopelessly rumpled, but she didn't imagine Lucas would care.
After a quick shower, she put on jeans and a turtleneck, made the bed, and swept the curtains aside to reveal a bright, sun-dappled day. The bedroom windows took up nearly the entire wall, floor to roof beams, and gave her a splendid view.
Lucas had heard the shower and had a cup of coffee ready for her when she came down. She accepted it gratefully.
"Thank you." She sipped at the hot beverage, inhaling the fragrant steam. Everything seemed more sensuous this morning, more vivid.
"So," he asked, "what shall we do today? I don't have to be back to work until tomorrow morning."
She grinned at him. "It's New Year's Day, isn't it? What else would we do but watch bowl games?"
"You like football?"
His astonishment amused her, but also made her aware of how little they really knew about each other. "As it happens," she informed him, "I'm a rabid football fan, especially when my old college team is playing."
For the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, they got to know each other in many little ways, happily munching popcorn and watching football games while they engaged in quiet conversation. They covered most of the subjects normal couples discussed, and with each pa.s.sing hour Corrie felt more at ease with Lucas.
They did not talk about family.
They did not mention ghosts.
Old acquaintances by then, they moved on to cook dinner together and share the dishwashing duties. After that, when Lucas went to get wood for the fireplace, Corrie curled up with her feet beneath her on his sofa, leaving room for him to join her there. She couldn't remember when she'd felt more comfortable with anyone.
After Lucas had a cheerful blaze going, he took the seat, snaking one arm around her waist and pulling her tight against his side. From behind his back he drew out a gift for her, a perfectly shaped pinecone.
"I'll treasure it always," she promised. Then she frowned, remembering a snippet of conversation from the day she and Rachel had shared brunch with Joyce. "What's a cone year? I heard your mother use the term but I never got a chance to ask her what it meant."
Lucas grinned and nuzzled her earlobe. "It has to do with the s.e.x lives of pine trees."
"You're making that up," she said as a delicate shudder pa.s.sed through her. Just that fast she wanted him again.
"Nope. White pines have male and female cones. A cone year comes once every five years or so, when all the trees have more cones than usual. That produces more pollen, which fertilizes the female cones. It also makes the trees more flammable."
"How . . fascinating." He was now nibbling on her neck, making it hard for her to concentrate on their conversation.
"Want to play pine trees?" he asked in a wicked whisper. "You can be the female and I'll be the male."
Corrie tried to hold back a giggle but it was no use. The first burst of mirth was followed by a full-bodied laugh. Once started, she couldn't seem to stop.
After a moment, Lucas joined in, reaching for her and holding her close while they both whooped without restraint.
It was cleansing. Cathartic. And when the laughter finally subsided an even more powerful force took its place.
Renewed desire hummed between them, impossible to ignore, impossible to deny. Corrie cleared her throat, remembering what she had packed in that overnight case upstairs.
"How do you feel about black peignoirs?" she asked.
CHAPTER TEN.
Adrienne Sinclair was upset.
She wasn 't able to make contact with Corrie because Corrie was not at the Sinclair House.
That she might not be successful in conveying the information, even if Corrie were in the hotel, was not the point. It was devilishly frustrating that she did not even have the opportunity to try.
Pacing the confines of Corrie's room, Adrienne did the only thing she could-she waited. Surely Corrie would come back.
As Adrienne kicked a slipper out of her way, she realized that most of Corrie's clothes were still in the room. With renewed hope, she went through every item in the armoire. She was uncertain what she was seeking until she found a navy blue blazer. A pin in the shape of a particular flower had been fastened to the lapel.
Perfect.
Adrienne moved the small object to a more prominent location, one guaranteed to attract Corrie's attention as soon as she returned.
"I wish I didn't have to go back to the hotel," Lucas said as he finished his second cup of morning coffee. "I wish you didn't have to."
Two nights and an entire day together hadn't been nearly enough time alone with Corrie. His cabin was going to feel lonely without her, but it was way too early in their relationship to ask her to move in with him.
Wasn't it?
"That's one nice thing about freelance work," she said. "I have a lot of choice about when and where I put in my hours." She was washing out her own cup. Her overnight bag stood packed and ready by the door.
Scarcely daring to hope, Lucas walked up behind her at the sink, so close he could shadow her arms as he dumped the dregs of his coffee down the drain. "Does that mean you could stay on longer if you wanted to?"
"If you wanted me to," she said softly, "then I suppose I could. For a few more days, anyway."
Aware his thoughts were growing far too serious way too fast, he retreated into humor, mimicking Rachel's accent. "I could give you such a deal-"
"I'll bet you could," she murmured, turning in his arms.
"I'll have the rest of your things packed and sent over from the hotel-" At the look on her face he broke off. "What?"
"Lucas, if I stay it should be at the Sinclair House." She squirmed in his grip. "Oh, drat! This isn't going to work."
Bewildered, he stepped back. His hands still resting lightly on her forearms, he could feel the fine trembling that shook her.
"Corrie, what is it? I thought you said there was no problem with your job?"
"There isn't. I can work anywhere, up to a point." She wouldn't meet his eyes, and she began to talk faster and faster, without revealing what was really bothering her. "My clients like to talk to me face-to-face occasionally, but most of the business is done electronically. I have my laptop computer with me. I can get quite a bit of work done in my hotel room. That would be better, really."
"If that's true, you could work here just as easily." He was beginning to have a bad feeling about this, but he did want her to stay, if not with him then at the hotel. He needed time to figure out how to keep the two of them together longer.
He knew he was rushing things, but he couldn't help thinking that if her job was that flexible, then it was possible she might move her business to Maine entirely. Or at least open a branch office there.
She sighed and finally met his eyes. "You aren't the only one who wants me to stay on, but she needs me to be at the Sinclair House, since that's the only place I've ever seen her."
"Adrienne?" Lucas felt his temper rising and clamped down on it, but not before he'd flexed his hands on Corrie's arms hard enough to make her wince. Hastily, he released her. She turned away from him and gathered up her parka.
"I haven't managed to do whatever it is she wants me to do, have I? I don't even know what it is yet."
Lucas was not at all pleased by the reminder. He supposed he'd been hoping she'd forgotten all about that d.a.m.ned ghost. He helped her into her coat and shrugged into his own, making one last attempt to get her to stay.