Hidden Paradise

chapter TWENTY-SIX



Lou

Lou had cried for an entire transatlantic flight, throughout the domestic flights for the final leg of her journey and during the expensive cab drive back to the ranch. She was too demoralized and exhausted to ask any friends to pick her up. The next morning, heavy-eyed, congested and aching, she called her neighbors to let them know she was home, and retired to bed with the worst summer cold of her life. She called her neighbors again, this time for help.

“You should have let us know you were coming home before.” Bea Reynolds, a motherly woman in her sixties, unloaded containers of chicken soup and brownies into Lou’s refrigerator. The dogs gamboled around Lou, wanting her to go outside and play with them, delighted at her return.

“I lost track of things,” Lou said. Boy, had she ever lost track of things.

Leo pushed his nose into her hand and whined. She bent to kiss his head and he panted enthusiastically. “Sorry, baby, I can’t play with you today. Bea, I think I’d better go back to bed. I’m sorry.”

Bea brought in a tray of soup and ginger ale and cold medicine and shooed the dogs out. “You don’t want to let the dogs on the bed,” she said.

“Why not?” She didn’t think she was ever going to sleep with anyone again. She might as well let the dogs keep her company. She craved their easy affection, the thumps of their tails on the covers.

“They’re farm dogs. They should be outside. Now you get some rest. Colds from overseas are always the worst. We’ll check in on you tomorrow and Bob will look after the livestock until you’re better.” She looked out of the bedroom window and shook her head. “Too late to put in a garden this year. It’s a pity.”

Lou was mildly entertained at the thought of vicious overseas viruses striking down innocent Americans; Henry James would probably have approved. She thanked Bea and gazed at the view. It was so unlike England, hard and bright and dry. She’d woken this morning, sick and disoriented, not knowing where she was, finding her bedroom and the harsh glare of the summer intimidating.

“This fell off your bed stand,” Bea said, replacing a framed photograph of Lou and Julian on their wedding day. “Such a dear man. You were married around this time last year, weren’t you, honey?”

Lou blew her nose in response and as soon as Bea left, turned the photograph over.

After several days of being cosseted and fussed over, she woke up feeling guilty over the amount of time and care her neighbors spent on her, and with a hankering to go outside. She stumbled out into the sunlight, blinking at the unaccustomed brightness, and decided her recovery had begun. Hard work was the answer, and she went into a whirlwind of activity, collecting boxes, and starting the arrangements for Rob’s arrival.

Peter and Chris emailed gossip about the house and its employees and the restoration work, and reminded her that they’d like her to return. She wrote an occasional affectionate, noncommittal reply.

It might have been a mistake to invite Rob. At the time, she had felt someone uncomplicated, kind and efficient was the answer, and in addition he could bring her news of Paradise Hall. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to have sex with him. She wasn’t sure she wanted to have sex with anyone ever again, not after her discovery about Julian. Maybe it was the effect of returning to the ranch, once the happiest place in the world for her, but which now represented a dull despair.

Now, with time to think, she realized the flaw in her logic. She couldn’t continue this way indefinitely—it was unfair to Peter and Chris, her friends. And to Mac.

She didn’t want to think about Mac, although memories of their time together haunted her. She wished she hadn’t hurt him at their last meeting beside the lake. How cold she’d been, and how she’d steeled herself to ignore the pain in his eyes.

* * *

SOMETHING HAPPENED TO HER AS she waited for Rob’s plane to discharge its passengers. Her breasts tingled, the touch of her cotton dress on her thighs seemed unbearable and her body was light with desire. Here, in the airport, she had gone into heat because a man was coming to see her and she couldn’t wait to touch him, slide her hand into his shirt and onto the warm skin of his back, press herself against his erection.

So much for her original plan to work him so hard all he would be able to do at the end of the day was collapse into a chaste bed.

The first burst of people came through the gate, and a woman with a small child ran into the arms of a guy in a business suit. Two guys hugged and slapped each other on the shoulders. Ah, there Rob was, backpack slung over one shoulder. He raised an arm and waved to her and she had to stop herself rushing to him and running her hands over him, to seek his mouth with hers. She wasn’t even sure her legs were up to any sort of rush. She moved at a sedate walk instead.

“Hi, Lou.” He looked a little apprehensive, as well he might, summoned from half a world away to help an unpredictable woman shove things into boxes, as though there was no closer source of labor.

She came to her senses and asked how his flight was and if he had luggage, the usual sort of airport-pickup conversation. He handed her a bag of English chocolate from duty-free with a shy smile.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He’d grown some fashionable stubble that gleamed coppery gold and gave him a little edge. His lips were slightly chapped, dehydrated from the long flight. She couldn’t help imagining both lips and stubble on her breasts, her thighs, but she pushed such thoughts aside and offered him a drink from her water bottle. Later, she would have the secret pleasure of placing her lips where his had been.

“No luggage?” she asked again. She couldn’t remember what he’d said.

“No, just this.”

They stood looking at each other. “Like the boots,” he said.

“Thanks.” She wore her cowboy boots and her cotton dress fell to just above her knees.

“I’ve never seen your legs before. I mean, you know, in a dress.” He grinned. “Okay, um, I’m ready.”

So was she, weak with desire. How embarrassing. They spent some time wandering around the parking garage before she realized she’d brought them to the wrong level, and then there was a clumsy, silly moment when they both headed for the same side of the car. Their elbows brushed and she stumbled, her knees weak.

He laughed, apologized and climbed in the passenger side of the car.

“You okay, Lou?”

“Yeah, fine, just dropped the keys. Excuse me—” She fumbled on the floor, her face perilously close to his thighs. How easy it would be to reach for his zipper.

Her fingers closed on the keys before she embarrassed herself further and she concentrated on getting in Reverse, steering and getting them safely out of the airport.

“How are Peter and Chris?”

“Doing well. They’re getting a bit of a break from guests. They say hi and ask that you take a look at your email. The Paint Boys send their love. They went off to do a short job on an Italian contessa—that’s what they said. I think there’s a villa involved.”

“Not necessarily,” she said. “How’s your family?”

He shrugged. “Okay. Dad’s in the cottage. We—Mac and I—worked on it, doing it up with him, though I think Mac was using it as an excuse to procrastinate on his deadline.” Lou tried to ignore the jolt she felt at the mention of Mac. “Graham’s at my sister’s—she’s going to have the baby around the time I get back. She’s huge and complaining all the time.”

So his mother was still in hiding. Lou suspected she’d be back for the birth of the grandchild and wondered if Rob had thought of that, too.

“What’s Mac doing now?” she said, eyes fixed on the road.

“He went to London to see his little girl. He didn’t say what he’d do next.” He peered out of the window into the dark. “Are those mountains?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.” He yawned and rested his head against the glass.

“Take a nap if you like.”

“I’m okay.”

But the next time she glanced over, he was asleep. She allowed herself one self-indulgent lustful gaze at his sprawled thighs. His hands, curled and relaxed in sleep, still bore newly healed scars from his time downstairs at Paradise Hall.

She made a deal with herself. If he wasn’t interested, they’d be fine together, just being friends. But if he was interested…her mind wandered into some tantalizing possibilities. He’d checked her legs out pretty thoroughly. Of course he’d seen her bare legs—and much more—before, but it was different when she was wearing a dress with the mystery of what she wore underneath. What sort of panties was she wearing today, anyway? She vaguely remembered picking out her Walmart specials, colorful cotton in a pattern of stylized flowers more suited to an eight-year-old than a grown woman. First thing to do when she got home was change those panties or abandon them altogether.

She sighed. Here she was acting like a teenager, while the real teenager in the car slept. She couldn’t predict what would happen and she wouldn’t fantasize. Not while she was driving. Maybe later, alone, in bed, where she could take the fantasy to a satisfying end. Maybe she’d think through, and in much greater detail, the possibility of pulling over and unzipping him, tangling in the backseat, or taking him in her mouth while he gasped and twisted beneath her. Or his fingers, busy between her legs—she squeezed her thighs together—and…

Flashing lights and the blare of a horn warned her that she was wandering into the path of oncoming traffic, and she got herself back into her lane and back into a rational frame of mind. She should enjoy this time with Rob, whatever the outcome, and make saying farewell to the ranch as happy a time as it could be.

Meanwhile, there was something satisfying and tranquil about this silent drive in the dark, the bulk of the mountains on the horizon blotting out the stars, with only the occasional headlights of a passing car to remind her that others existed outside their little world. Rob slept on, peaceful.

* * *

WHEN THEY ARRIVED AT THE HOUSE she tried not to check out his butt as he hauled the backpack out of the car. He tipped his head back and looked at the stars, much clearer and brighter than any night skies she’d seen in England. The dogs bounded up to them in the house, sniffed at Rob and decided he was their newest and dearest friend, bumping against his legs and demanding attention.

“Nice place,” he said politely, a hand on each dog’s head.

“Push them off if they’re a nuisance. Leo is the brown one, Saturn is the border mix.”

“Why did you name a dog after a car?”

“After the planet. I have English tea. Would you like some?”

“I’d rather have a beer, if you don’t mind.”

She passed him a bottle. “I should warn you that the legal drinking age in this state is twenty-one.”

“Bloody hell.” He twisted off the bottle cap.

She fixed him eggs. It was odd to have him in her kitchen, and the awkwardness of showing him the bed in the study—or not—lay ahead.

“What’s going to happen to the animals?”

“I’m leaving them here, except for Maisie, my horse. I sold her to a friend whose daughter used to come over to ride her. So she’s in good hands.”

“You’re leaving your dogs?”

“They’re farm dogs. They like people but they’re attached to the territory and to each other. They’re friends with my neighbors’ dogs. They quite often go visit and hang out. And my buyers really like them.”

“They’re getting the cows, too?”

“Oh, yes. They love the idea of being gentleman farmers, just like Julian. They plan to get goats and chickens, too.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice. My mum had chickens.”

“My neighbors sell me eggs. We do a lot of trading and bartering here. I used to trade eggplants for eggs.”

He laughed and got up to put his cleaned-off plate and cutlery in the dishwasher. Nice, a well-trained man, rinsing them off first, too. “Where are you going anyway, Lou?”

Wasn’t that the big question? “It’s not certain.”

“Back to Paradise?”

“Possibly. A friend in the town has offered me space in her house. I have to write my dissertation, you see, and I can teach a few classes at the university. I haven’t really decided yet.”

“I know, it’s none of my business.” He ambled into the adjoining room. “Okay if I watch TV?”

The dogs accompanied him. She heard him click from channel to channel before settling on something with a lot of gunfire, typical male. She spent a lot of time wiping off the counter and range and table, not that they needed them, and retrieved her voicemail messages, which included the daily exasperated, affectionate call from Peter.

“Loulou, are you out communing with the cows again? Give us a call, dear, or email or something. We miss you. Bye.”

When she went to join Rob, he was fast asleep, shoes off, stretched out on the couch. Saturn and Leo were snuggled up to him. They gave Lou guilty, challenging looks.

When she turned the television off, Rob didn’t stir.

“Down!”

Both dogs slunk off the couch. After letting them outside, she told them to go to their own beds, although she doubted they’d stay there. She laid a throw over Rob and opened the door to the study at the far end of the room, where the bed was made up, since she’d decided that was the path of lesser embarrassment. He already knew where the bathroom was and by default where her bedroom was. It was hard to get lost in a house of less than a thousand square feet. Her buyers planned to build an extension, just as she and Julian once had.

The first items she had packed to go into storage were photographs of Julian.

* * *

IT WASN’T THAT LATE, BUT SHE went to bed anyway. A few feet away, a distance she could cross in a matter of seconds, Rob slept. The house was quiet. She opened her laptop and looked at the growing list of unread emails, many from Paradise Hall, from Viv and Peter and Chris. The sender address of msalazar leaped out at her. She knew that sooner or later he’d get her email address. He was a reporter; he knew how to figure things out.

She closed the laptop without opening the email, laid it aside and switched off the lamp. Although she intended to indulge in a little fantasy and touch herself to a satisfying climax, she found herself suddenly inhibited. Perhaps it was the presence of Rob in her house. What if he heard, even with the door closed? She couldn’t guarantee she’d be quiet. She hadn’t had to stifle her orgasm sound effects for years, not since sharing a dorm room as an undergraduate. If necessary, Julian’s tongue or hand had muffled her cries during family visits.

But she wouldn’t think about that.

She tried to find a comfortable position and fell into a light, restless sleep.

Dreams came—light, sexy touches on her legs, her thighs through the sheets, an enthusiastic panting and hot, vile breath in her face.

She sat up and switched on the light, revealing Rob and a couple of companions. “Did you have to bring the dogs with you?”

“Sorry, I must have left the door open.” He knelt beside the bed, wearing only boxers, which, she smiled at seeing, were distended by his erection. “I was planning to crawl under here and, um, do things to you. If it’s okay.”

If it’s okay? “Oh, Rob, honey.” Breathless with desire and relief, she lunged forward to kiss him. He tasted of toothpaste. His stubble grazed her cheek.

The dogs whined, tails wagging, wanting to join in the fun.

“Out!” she said to them. “Go to your beds.”

They slunk off.

“I’ve been inconsistent with them. They’re confused. Could you shut the door, please?”

She moved over in the bed and he discarded his boxers, kicking them away as he walked back to her, erection swaying. He stripped her nightshirt off over her head with brisk practicality.

“I didn’t know whether you wanted me,” he said in between kisses as he got onto the bed. “I thought you might set the dogs on me.”

“They’d slobber you to death.” She was embarrassed that he was the one who had the courage to attempt a seduction. “I’m sorry if I was weird.”

“I was so sad when you left.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, her breath catching as his mouth moved down her neck.

“I wanked myself stupid.”

She giggled. “Too much information, Rob.”

“I thought about doing this. Kissing your nipples. I love it when they go hard in my mouth. Did you know they swell just before you come?”

That scrape of unshaven cheek, just as she’d imagined it, on her breasts and belly, and now on her thighs as he eased her legs apart. “I thought about doing this, too.”

His tongue flicked and circled, teasing and probing before settling into a rhythm that she adjusted with small movements of her hips, her hand on his head to guide him. She cried out as her orgasm hit, wrenching and tumbling her, and in its wake he slid into her, keeping her aloft and aiding her descent to earth even as he came.

“Brilliant,” he said. He rolled off her, chest heaving, and gathered her to him, his arm around her shoulders. “Can we do this a lot?”

“Absolutely. In between clearing things up.”

“The house doesn’t look so bad, except for the books.”

“You haven’t seen the barn yet.”