“Exactly,” he said swiftly.
“Pardon?”
“Heirs, Anne. That’s exactly what I’ve in mind. Heirs out of wedlock, since we’re no longer talking marriage.”
Anne’s heart skipped a beat and a half. “Well, fine then,” she said cheerfully. “Give me the names and Social Security numbers of your illegitimate children, Jake, and then if you absolutely insist…”
His low, throaty laughter echoed in the stillness. “At least you didn’t panic when I said the word, sassy.”
The word marriage. Anne hugged the towels and robe to her chest, suddenly unable to concentrate.
At the foot of the wooden ladder, Jake offered, “If you’d rather have the hot tub to yourself, I’ll wait here until you’ve had a turn.”
“Don’t be silly,” Anne said irritably. They were both adults, it was dark and they’d certainly seen each other’s bare bottoms before. Jake’s arm on her shoulder could not have been more brotherly, and furthermore, she resented being treated like a prudish Victorian miss.
Her calf muscles tightened as she mounted the steps ahead of him. There were no yellow camp lights near the tub house. She reached out in search of something to hold on to as she climbed up to the tub; she could barely see the ladder. The owner was rather eccentric, Anne decided, between his ducks and a hot tub built in the air.
“Can you see to unlock the door?” she asked when they’d both reached the platform at the top of the ladder.
“My night vision’s always been better than yours,” Jake replied.
“Hate carrots,” Anne murmured absently. He opened the wooden gate, ushered her into the enclosure and relatched it with the two of them locked inside. Vaguely, she could make out a narrow deck surrounding a square pool large enough for perhaps six adults to sit in. Steam rose from the surface, a stark contrast to the chilly night air. The stars above the redwood fence seemed hung so low as to be touchable.
Anne set down the towels, heard Jake popping the buttons on his flannel shirt and froze for one odd second. From behind her, she heard shoes clump on the deck. Then a zipper being pulled down. A zipper had such a distinct sound… Instantly she decided that she would definitely prefer to bathe alone. Jake could go first; she could go first; it didn’t make any difference. Just not together. Only it was too late to make that decision…
When she no longer heard the sounds of clothing being removed, she hurried to fill the silence. “The air is absolutely freezing,” she mentioned with a little laugh.
“And the water is very, very warm. You won’t be cold, Anne.”
Hmm. The water surged noisily when he stepped in; Anne’s eyes darted nervously to the wooden gate.
“It’s locked,” he assured her. The thread of lazy humor in his voice was unmistakable. “I could have sworn you could hardly wait to get in the hot tub.”
“I can’t,” she agreed vaguely, and dropped down on the rough wooden bench by the towels. She slid off her pumps slowly, one at a time, and set them neatly side by side under the bench. She felt…set up. Stepping back into the shadows, she turned away from Jake and reached under her skirt to pull down her pantyhose, not a graceful action at the best of times.
“Anne?”
She refused to look up. The button on her skirt wouldn’t budge, probably because her fingers had suddenly turned cold and clumsy. The zipper got caught on the sole stray thread in the placket. Finally, the skirt was off and folded neatly on the bench. Her pulse pounded as if she were having an anxiety attack. She felt like a stripper about to walk on stage for the first time.
Her half-slip had turned icy the way only cold satin can. Night air whispered intimately up her legs. If the wind had been a man, she would have slapped it for its brash familiarity with that feminine triangle between her thighs. Still turned away from Jake, she started undoing the dozen tiny pearl buttons on her blue blouse.
She could feel Jake’s eyes on her back, waiting. He knew what she was feeling. He was the one who’d shifted their relationship into neutral, and he knew perfectly well that it put nakedness in a different light. Undressing for a lover was one thing, but she was not supposed to want an intimate relationship with him these two weeks. She didn’t. Not again, Anne, you’ll go to pieces when it’s over. So…it should be nothing, slipping off a few clothes in the dark. Jake had seen her nude before; they were both adults, and Jake had made it very clear that he wasn’t going to make a pass. She had no reason at all to feel suddenly as vulnerable and fragile as a cotton puff.
Slowly, she pulled off her blouse, one sleeve and then the other. Pearl-smooth shoulders gleamed their softness from the dark water’s reflection. She could keep her bra and panties on, of course; they covered more than a bathing suit. She could keep them on if she was willing to admit to herself that she still wanted him, that she cared too much, that nakedness plus closeness plus Jake was a very risky combination in her mind. Her limbs moved like satin in shadow as she unhooked the front catch of her bra. Her bare breasts protested the sudden exposure to the cold, and the nipples tightened vulnerably.
“Turn around, Anne.” His voice soft, the humor all gone. Just a husky, vibrant baritone talking only to that very tiny, very primitive part of Anne…
“I’ll be in in a moment.” She rapidly stripped off the half-slip and panties, and her whole body began to tremble with cold. She turned toward the tub then, head lowered as she carefully negotiated the steps. The steaming hot water surged around her slim calves, then her waist, and she hurriedly crouched down so that the water came up to her shoulders.
She took a breath. “Feels good,” she offered lightly, and forced her legs to stretch out under the cover of the soothing dark water.
Jake said nothing. His face was in shadow, but he was looking at her. His arms were stretched out on the sides of the tub, and gleamed golden in the darkness. His hair had picked up the silver of the stars, and was ruffled like thick, rough fur. The eyes pinned on hers were distinctly a man’s: silvery, intense, opaque… She groped for an innocuous conversational gambit.
None occurred to her.
Very slowly, like a hunter being careful not to frighten a wary doe, Jake got out of the tub and reached for something to the side. She heard a click, understanding it seconds later. The concealing black waters turned iridescent turquoise, suddenly lit by three circular spotlights in the bottom of the pool. Her limbs turned to stone, locked in helpless, vulnerable display. Jake’s nudity was just as clearly revealed, as he rejoined her in the tub, yet he looked neither helpless nor vulnerable.
Her breath seemed to have caught somewhere between her throat and her lungs, locked there. He was a beautiful man, just as he had been a beautiful lover. His body was sleek and strong and virile, with skin several shades darker than hers. She remembered too much, too fast. Still, she found herself staring. Droplets of water clung to his shoulders; the silver strands of his chest hair gleamed against his darker flesh in the water. It was so like Jake, the casual way he balanced himself lazily, one leg hooked over a step. He sat motionless, watching her face, not her body. And when she looked up, his dark eyes fastened on hers and refused to let go.
“That wasn’t fair, was it?” he said quietly. “Turning on the lights.”
“No.”
His voice was low, gentle. “There were times I remembered the look of you in my dreams. They never measured up to how beautiful you really are, Anne.” He added, “Do you want me to turn off the light?”
“What I really want…” There was something in her throat, some strange, hoarse catch that made the words come out like a whispered plea. “I can’t seem to…move.”