Countdown - Iris Johansen [90]
She’d take a shower and then work on the background of the sketch of Jock. Then maybe she’d go and check on Mario.
I’m going to the Run. I want you there.
She’d backed away from Trevor when he asked her to come. Why? She prided herself on her confidence and boldness. Yet ever since she’d come to this place she’d been a complete wimp. It was time she took herself in hand and started behaving normally. The decision sent a tingle of excitement through her. The memory of Trevor standing there in the moonlight, the breeze lifting his hair, and the slight smile that had made her compare him to those wild, ancient Scots was filling her with a mixture of tension and anticipation.
I want you there. . . .
14
I was wondering if you’d come.” Trevor stood up from the rock on which he’d been sitting. “I was betting you wouldn’t.”
“It was fifty-fifty.” Jane came toward him. He was dressed in jeans and a dark sweatshirt that appeared black in the moonlight. He looked younger, less hard, more vulnerable. Yet when was Trevor ever vulnerable? “I didn’t like the fact that you didn’t tell me about Reilly’s offer. And I’ve been pretty mixed up.”
“And you’re not now?”
“It’s getting more clear.” She looked around the craggy rocks that bordered the Run. “Why did you want to come here this evening?”
He smiled. “Not because I wanted to be soothed. You want to know the truth? This place is atmospheric as hell. You can almost see Angus and Fiona and their Scottish cronies. I’m a manipulative bastard, and I could see that you responded to the vibes here. I need all the help I can get where you’re concerned.”
She felt the heat tingle through her. “Do you?”
His smile faded as his gaze searched her face. “Don’t I?”
“It’s not like you to be uncertain about anything.” She took a step closer to him. “And when you come right down to the basics, atmosphere doesn’t mean a damn.”
He tensed. “And what are the basics?”
“That life can be very short. That there’s death all around and you never know when—” She looked him straight in the eye. “I’m not going to let any pleasure go by because I don’t believe it’s the right time. There’s no right time except now.”
“Right time for what?”
“Do you want me to say it?” She took another step forward, until she was only a scant foot from him. She could feel the heat emanating from his body and it sent a ripple of heat through her. “I wanted to go to bed with you when I was seventeen. You were stupid and noble and you left me frustrated and empty for those four years. Heaven help me, I still want to go to bed with you, and it’s going to happen, dammit.” She laid her hand on his chest. A shudder went through him and she felt a heady sense of power. “Isn’t it?”
“Hell, yes.” His hand covered hers and he rubbed it slowly over his chest. “I told you I wouldn’t send you away if you touched me.”
She could feel his heartbeat beneath her palm and it was quickening, pounding. Jesus, she could feel that pounding in her own body. It seemed as if they were joined already. She leaned against him until their joined hands pressed against her breast. Dear God, she was melting. “Where?”
“Here,” he muttered as his lips buried themselves in her neck. “Behind the rocks. I don’t care.” His tongue was warm on the pulse in the hollow of her throat. “Anywhere.”
She was burning up. She wanted to jerk him down on the hard earth, pull him in and move against him, take all of him. Her arms slid around his shoulders. “Here,” she murmured. “You’re right, it doesn’t matter.”
He went rigid and he pushed her back. “Yes, it does.” He was breathing heavily, his eyes glittering wildly in his taut face. “I don’t want MacDuff or one of the guards stumbling over us. I’ve waited this long. I can wait another ten minutes. Get the hell back to your room. I’ll be right behind you.”
She stood there, staring dazedly at him. “What?”
“Don’t just stand there. I promise this is my last act of nobility.