She switched off her bedside light and was thankful for the quiet. Obviously Eileen Platz hadn’t found any dead people in her closet. There would have been a scream by now. She wondered if Lucy and Melody were having trouble sleeping. Probably not. They hadn’t seemed too upset about the corpse. Of course, they hadn’t seen him. He hadn’t crashed down onto their feet. She closed her eyes and tried to relax, but there were too many things rolling through her mind-mostly thoughts of Ivan.
She slid out of bed, temporarily giving up on sleep, and went to the window. She’d chosen this bedroom because, like the master bedroom, it was at the back of the house and overlooked the harbor. She raised the shade and pulled the sheer curtain aside. It was a dark night, but she could see the outlines of the tall ships against the black water. One of them was the Savage, she thought, feeling a surge of pride and affection.
She slumped onto the chintz-covered window seat and looked into the night with unfocused eyes. She wondered if Ivan was already asleep in the bedroom across the hall and felt a vague discontent that they were separated. They weren’t married or engaged. They weren’t even lovers. There was no justification for the loneliness and frustration she felt, but she felt it all the same. Some of it was sexual. As Ace would put it, she was a hotbed of raging hormones. Thanks to Ivan Rasmussen.
She was musing about the pleasures of love when a gust of wind shook the house, and the dead man in the gray suit swung past her window.
It happened so fast, Stephanie thought she’d imagined it. When he swung by a second time, she stifled a scream and jumped from the window seat in astonishment. It took a moment for her to gather her wits and shake away the initial horror. There was an explanation for this, and she was going to find out what it was.
She moved toward the window when another blast of wind buffeted Haben, and the dead man crashed through the window, feet- first. His eyes were closed in eternal slumber, and his hands were innocently clasped across his chest. He smashed into the wooden window frame, and his feet flew up from the impact, almost kicking Stephanie in the head.
She instinctively jumped back, losing her balance and sprawling on the rug amid a shower of broken glass. By the time she’d scrambled to her feet, the man was gone. She stood helpless, inches from the window seat, afraid to move in her bare feet.
“Ivan!”
He was at her door even before she’d called. “What was that crash?” He looked at the window and at the glass surrounding her.
“It was the guy in the suit,” Stephanie said. “He was flying around past my window. Next thing I knew, he’d crashed right through. Never moved a muscle. Had his eyes closed the whole time.”
Ivan grimaced. “Steph, the man’s been embalmed. You didn’t expect him to open his eyes and say howdy, did you?”
“No, but then I didn’t expect him to crash through my window either.”
He walked across the room and looked out the window. He scooped Stephanie into his arms and crunched over the glass shards to the door. “Stay here,” he said, setting her on her feet. “Don’t move from this spot. I’m going outside to investigate, and I don’t want you running around the house in your nightgown.”
Five minutes later he was back. “I couldn’t find anything. I’m calling the police.”
Stephanie grabbed him by the shirtfront. “No! You can’t do that. No one will ever stay here again. What am I going to say to Eileen Platz? She’s not going to understand about some old guy in a gray suit turning up in closets and crashing through windows. It’ll get in the newspapers. They’ll say the house is possessed. I’m in enough freakin’ trouble with Melody up there on the widow’s walk.”
The line of his mouth tightened. “Okay, but you can’t sleep here, and I’m not leaving you alone. This dead guy has a definite preference for your room.”
He hooked his hand behind her knees and lifted her into his arms. He quietly closed the door and carried her across the hall. “You can stay with me tonight.” It was a sign, he decided, his tongue firmly planted in his cheek- and much more potent than a phone call from her mother. It would be wrong to ignore a definite sign such as this. “We could see if tab A fits into slot B.”
“Are you kidding me? How can you think of tabs and slots at a time like this? There’s a dead guy running around out there! And why are you dressed? You don’t even have your shoes off.”
“I had business to attend to.” Shoe factory business, he thought with distaste. I wasn’t cut out for the shoe business. Hopefully, sometime soon he could close that chapter of his life. He kissed her lightly on the lips. “And you’re still suspicious of me, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know. I think my nerves are shot. Too many years of being a cop. Too many days of living with Melody.”
He pulled her into his room and locked the door. “You need to relax,” he said, smiling wolfishly. And he needed to relax. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since he’d met her.
Relax? In his bedroom? In her nightgown? She couldn’t remember feeling more unrelaxed. It was funny how just moments ago when she was all alone, she’d thought it would be comfy to spend the night next to Ivan Rasmussen, and now that it was a definite possibility, she felt like jumping out the window.
He had his hands at her hip, and his eyes gazed into hers, seeing the mirror image of his own excitement and his own apprehension. In all seriousness, he’d intended to wait a while longer before making love to her, but there was no way he was going to leave her alone and unprotected-and he knew there was no way he could spend the night with her and not make love. He rubbed his thumb over her panty elastic, enjoying the simple intimacy, and moved his hands up her sides to frame her breasts. He felt her shiver at his touch and saw her face light with pleasure.
“I like this nightgown,” he said, his voice soft and seductive. “It’s sexy, with its high, ruffled neck and long, ruffled sleeves. It covers you from head to foot, but it clings in all the right places.”
She stood absolutely still, barely breathing as he pulled the thin translucent material taut over her breasts. He lowered his mouth and kissed her, slowly, and her doodah started to hum a little tune.
Doodah humming aside, there was no doubt in her mind that being with Ivan was right. She’d known Steve for years and hadn’t known him at all, and she’d known Ivan for a very short time and felt as if she knew all that was important about him.
There had been an overwhelming chemistry between them from the very beginning, but that wouldn’t have been enough. It was enough for kisses and a few fantasies, but it wasn’t enough to make her want to spend the night next to him. She realized now that she had to love a man to think of doing that. Ivan was very close and very real, and she loved him.
She tugged his shirttails from the waistband of his jeans and slid her palms along the flat plane of his stomach and the hard wall of his chest. “I’m glad I waited all these years,” she said. “I’m glad my first time is with you.”
“Hmmm, so do you love me?” he asked, flicking the overhead light off, unbuttoning his shirt. “How much?”
Stephanie smiled at him. “Enough.”
“Enough for what?”
“Enough for anything you have in mind.”
Ivan’s grin flashed white in the subdued light of the bedroom. He kicked his shoes off and nestled her close to him. He kissed her temple and the sensitive spot just below her ear.
He wanted to go slow, to make it beautiful for her, but she was making control difficult, and he felt a rush of heat slam into him as her hands explored the small of his back and slid below his waistband.