Three Weeks Last Spring Read online

  For the first time in days there was silence between them.

  Skye's lashes brushed her cheek. For a brief moment a shutter closed over her face. She pushed all the negative thoughts to the back of her mind, and gazed at him. The look of concern on his face all but melted her heart.

  "There is no boyfriend." Realizing how sad that sounded, she quickly inserted some humour into the conversation. "John, my business partner and self-appointed big brother, would have every applicant for the vacancy positively vetted given half the opportunity. As it is, work keeps me busy. What about you? How does your significant other feel about you spending all your spare time here in the San Juans fishing?"

  "Like you, there is no significant other, though that's not completely my choice. I move around too much with work. When a guy constantly calls and cancels, dates kind of get fed up waiting around. Sometimes going fishing seems a better alternative to having the phone slammed down in your ear."

  A thoughtful smile curved Skye’s mouth. "I thought you said you worked out of Seattle."

  Walker played with the napkin. "My office is there, but like I said, I tend to travel quite a bit from city to city. That makes it hard to maintain a relationship. Not all women understand that a man can't always be there when they want."

  Skye understood, and it hadn't bothered her, but she wasn't about to tell Walker that.

  "Surely, if you met someone who really cared, it wouldn't matter to them—so long as the time you spent together was quality time. A few weeks or months apart shouldn't be that big a hurdle, not when you've got a lifetime to look forward to. Isn't that what love is all about? Surmounting the obstacles and loving someone for who they are?"

  "I'm sure you're right. I've yet to meet such a paragon of virtue who'll accept me, suitcase and all. Perhaps American woman are more demanding of their partners, wanting the best of everything—a home, a car, an endless supply of credit cards, membership of the local country club, and so on. They're certainly more opinionated, which probably has something to do with why there are so many single women here in the States. You Brits tend to be more stoic, or at least, you seem that way."

  Chapter Ten

  Walker hadn't tasted such good home cooked food in a long time. He enjoyed the easy conversation despite the fact he touched a raw nerve now and again. When he sensed the conversation was getting too heavy, he deftly changed the subject. He raised his glass to Skye, and turned up his smile a notch.

  "I thought you Brits lived off baked beans and fish and chips. I didn’t realize you were good cooks."

  Skye laughed aloud. "It’s a common assumption, but totally wrong. You should thank my mother for my culinary skills. She was determined I should acquire some housewifely attributes as well as a degree, so insisted I took a cookery course before I went off to university. But, like all students my cash was tight. I became very adept with a can opener. You should have seen some of the concoctions I and my friends came up with."

  Skye raised her glass and sipped the wine. She savoured its intense plumy flavour. It made her feel relaxed and quite mellow, and combined with the smouldering looks Walker was giving her over the rim of his glass, the effect on her pulse rate was alarming.

  Walker was only too aware of the woman sitting opposite and the way she made him feel when he held her in his arms. His feelings had nothing to do with reason, and were borne of an aching need. He wanted her every way a man could want a woman. Until now he'd never met a woman he hadn't been able to walk away from. But Skye was different. She was smart, sassy, and too sexy for her own good, and seemed to have no appreciation of the effect she had on men and him in particular. But with his life turning from sugar to shit with every passing hour having an affair would be the dumbest move he could make. So he’d backed off. Or tried to.

  However, the enigmatic Ms Dunbar, damn it, had crawled under his skin, like a two-day-old itch that refused to be scratched. She was the reason why he'd taken more cold showers in the last ten days than he had since tenth grade. And while he was thinking about it, she was also the reason his temper had been off the Richter scale all week. From the first time he saw her he'd wanted to know what she would feel like against the hard length of him. And now he knew—she felt too damned good.

  That was part of his problem. His body wasn't satisfied with just holding her and tasting her honeyed kisses, it wanted more. Hell, it ached for more and no matter how many times he reminded himself he was a grown man and not a hormonally charged teenager, he still wanted her.

  On the short drive over to the cabin he'd convinced himself that he could do whatever it took to save his company, and if that involved seducing his sexy auburn-haired tenant, then he would do so with no regrets. He would treat it like any other job, except for one important factor—this time instead of saving the environment, he would be salvaging his business.

  But having felt Skye's warm lithe body against his and drunk in her sweet kisses, he knew he couldn't go through with it. While he wasn't sure what his feelings for the seemingly fragile woman he'd cradled in his arms in the moonlight were, he knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself or with the accompanying guilt if he used her. If he had sex with her, then it was because she wanted him in her bed, as much as he wanted her. Otherwise he would walk away and spend the next month chewing out anyone who came within a twenty mile radius of him. That, or move to the northernmost end of Alaska.

  Walker finished the last of his wine, and mentally ticked off all she had told him about herself. What he knew wouldn't fill the back of a postage stamp. She worked in London. So did a third of the population of England, or so he'd read. She had a degree, and was a partner in a business. She was obviously intelligent, but just what did she hold her degree in and what was her training? What did her company specialize in?

  For all he knew she could be a designer, since her clothes certainly weren't from the local chain store. It was what she hadn't told him that intrigued him. He couldn't help pondering about her business and her partner, and where they fitted into his latest assignment. Something just didn't add up.

  Skye's soft voice broke into his thoughts. She placed the coffee tray on the table by the sofa. "I haven't any brandy, but I do have a good malt whisky if you'd care for one."

  "That sounds great." Walker threw another log on the fire.

  For an instant there was a burning, faraway look in his eyes, as if he was wrestling a problem. By the time Skye had poured a measure of scotch and handed him the glass, the fleeting expression that lingered momentarily, had vanished.

  Walker transferred the glass to his left hand, and placed it on top of the fireplace. His right hand captured her’s, his thumb stroking the soft skin just below her wrist. He wrapped his arms around her waist, moulding her soft curves to the contours of his hard lean body, and lowered his head to kiss her.

  Skye's arms wound round his neck, her fingers burying in his thick black hair. His first kiss was soft and teasing, his tongue tracing the soft fullness of her lips. She moaned softly, and parted her lips.

  Walker deepened the kiss, his lips giving her what she wordlessly sought. He meant to take it slow and gentle, just as a man should when he kisses a woman for the second time, but the depth of Skye's response broke his resolve. Hungrily he took all she gave and more, his tongue exploring the soft recesses of her mouth. He lifted his mouth from hers, gazed into her eyes, and saw her answering desire. Resting his head on the top of hers he fought for control, his pulse hammering in his ears, his breathing fast.

  Skye lowered her cheek on to his chest with a sigh of pleasure, her breathing almost ragged as his. He could feel her heart thudding and felt the answering beat of his own. He watched her tongue as she tasted his kiss and remembered to breathe—just. Gently he rocked her back and forth, before suddenly lifting her into his arms and carrying her to the sofa. One kiss was not enough; he had an aching need for more, and to hell with the consequences. His eyes locked with hers.

  He huskily said
her name. "Skye?"

  Walker's kiss left Skye’s mouth burning with fire and her senses reeling. Her mind told her to resist, that this really wasn't a good idea. But, her body had other ideas. It craved more, much more. Slowly, she ran her tongue over her warm moist lips totally unaware of the sensual picture she made.

  She didn't need to hear his unspoken question; her body already knew the answer. His intense blue eyes never left hers as he lowered his mouth and hungrily covered her lips once more. When he released her, and eased her down on to the thick cushions, she didn’t object.

  Slowly and seductively his gaze slid from her face to her breasts, his hand gently outlining a firm globe through the silk of her blouse. His touch was feather-light and teasing. Skye's nipple hardened instantly, her body hungry with desire. She moaned softly, as she felt the hardness of Walker's arousal pressing into the soft flesh of her thigh.

  She heard Walker suck in a ragged breath. Slowly he lowered his head. His lips touched the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat, as he explored the soft creamy expanse of her skin at the neck of her blouse. She quivered beneath him, her body demanding more.

  "Skye…honey, look at me."

  Walker's voice seemed to come from a long way off. Skye opened her eyes. There was an invitation in his eyes, as they gazed into hers.

  "Mm…" Her voice was no more than a husky whisper. She trailed her fingers up and down Walker's back and across the expanse of his shoulders, exploring every contour, committing them to memory. Unable to disguise his reaction to her soft caress, she felt his body stiffen with need.

  Walker raised himself on one elbow. "Honey, unless you tell me to stop, I'm going to make love to you right here."

  Skye’s voice was silky and full of passion. "Walker—"

  "Tell me, sweetheart, tell me what you want. I can't make this decision for both of us."

  Skye's heart hammered in her ears. Their gaze locked and she swallowed hard. With a delicate finger, she first traced the outline of the scars on his eyebrow and chin before moving to his firm sensual lips. Without warning his mouth captured her finger, gently sucking it, sending shivers of delight through her. She couldn't deny her feelings for him any longer. She wanted this man with every inch of her being. His raw sensuousness took her higher and higher, until all she could think about was having him fill her body with his. She inhaled sharply, her eyes never leaving his mouth.

  "I…want…I want you."

  "Honey, that's what I needed to hear you say." There was a faint tremor in his voice, as though some deep emotion had touched him.

  He eased off the couch, and threw the cushions on to the rug in front of the fire, then took Skye into his arms. He knelt in front of her and stroked the soft skin of her face, his hand trailing down to the buttons of her blouse. With slightly unsteady fingers, he first undid one button and then another, before slowly slipping it off her shoulders and down her arms.

  The soft light from the fire cast a warm glow on her creamy skin. Walker inhaled sharply, drinking in her subtle perfume. He longed to touch and taste her soft skin. His lips trailed feather-light kisses down her neck and shoulders until she moaned for him. Watching her, he outlined her full breasts through the lace of her bra before his fingertips brushed intimately over her hardening nipples. He couldn't wait any longer to feel the soft skin of her breasts against the hardness of his chest. Hurriedly dealing with the buttons of his shirt, he shrugged it off.

  Skye needed no encouragement. Her fingers wove into the crisp dark curls on his chest, luxuriating in the wealth of sensations flooding her body. Her skin burned where his lips and fingertips touched. She couldn't get enough of him. His hands moved down the length of her back, to the zip on her skirt. His tongue lightly traced a path from her ear to the pulse at the base of her neck. She moaned softly at the sensations rippling thought her body.

  Walker sucked in a breath, as his body responded instantly to the sight of Skye standing before him in nothing but her underwear. God, she was beautiful, and it took every last ounce of his control not to rip the scraps of lace off her and bury himself in her soft moist folds. The ache in his groin was almost unbearable. Dragging in air, he tried desperately to slow the pace. His hands slid across Skye's silken belly, making her tremble with desire.

  Quickly discarding the rest of his clothes, he eased her down on to the cushions, one muscular leg slipping between hers. He kissed her deeply as his hands continued their slow exploration of her body. With passion-darkened eyes, his hands sought the fastening on the scrap of lace that passed for her bra. The heat surged in his groin as the lace fell away and his eyes drank in the fullness of her breasts and her swollen nipples. With one hand he fondled first one firm globe then the other, then lowered his head, his tongue seeking and finding the taut dusky pink nipples.

  Skye arched her back, her hands digging into his hair, pulling him closer, as the hard shell that she had so carefully built around her shattered into a million pieces. Walker's warm breath seared her skin, as his lips followed the trail left by his hands. Her body was on fire and aching for the sweet release that she knew only he could give.

  She inhaled sharply as pleasure radiated through her. Walker's tongue circled her nipples, teasing and sucking the hard nubs. His hands stroked her legs and thighs, before pulling aside the lace of her thong and slipping a finger inside, seeking the core of her desire. He stroked and teased her until she couldn’t take anymore.

  When her fingers stroked his hard, silky erection the pleasure was explosive, and almost drove him over the edge.

  His voice was raw with passion as he whispered, "Honey—"

  "Don't you like that?"

  He liked it too much—that was the problem. Waves of pleasure throbbed through him, his body trembling with liquid fire.

  "Honey, look at me."

  Skye’s eyes told him everything he needed to know about how she felt. He rolled her onto her back and entered her, her warm moist folds sheathing the hard length of him like a glove. Just when he thought he couldn't get any deeper, he felt her relax, welcoming him further into her body. His body picked up the rhythm that was as old as time. He moved slowly at first, not wishing to hurt her, but desire and passion overwhelmed them as they sought release.

  Walker sensed the change in Skye, as her whole being flooded with desire, and she trembled as the first waves of her orgasm washed over her. Her body arched in final surrender to his as he claimed her for his own, the hot tide of her passion tipped him over the edge and his own powerful orgasm exploded in a million fiery sensations.

  Walker felt Skye's tears on his chest and swore to himself. He'd offered her the chance to say no. But she'd wanted him as much as he'd desired her, her passion easily a match for his own. So why the tears?

  He kissed the top of her head, and gently raised her face to his. What he saw there almost tore his heart in two. Her deep blue eyes were full of longing as she looked at him, yet he could sense she was dealing with some inner turmoil. His arm tightened around her shoulders. With a single finger, he slowly traced the line of wetness on her cheek.

  "Tears?" he said in an odd, yet gentle tone. "I didn't hurt you did I? You don’t have any regrets, do you?"

  "They’re tears of happiness, not sadness. No one has made me feel this way in a long, long time." For a year she had convinced herself that she could never trust another man sufficiently to let him get close to her, let alone give him the gift of her body, and yet in a short space of time, this strong self-opinionated man had crept under her skin and into her heart.

  "Well they should have. You're beautiful and you deserve to be loved. Hell, every woman is beautiful in her own way. Some bastards just don't know how to make a woman feel special."

  Skye lowered her gaze and suppressed what could have become a hysterical giggle. She wanted to savour every moment in his arms and this wasn't the time to bare her soul and tell. Even if it were, she would be opening up a bitter wound, which, at that moment, should rema
in firmly closed. At least, for tonight, she knew the man holding her in his arms was helping her to heal, and she was learning to trust again.

  Chapter Eleven

  Over the top of Skye's head Walker watched the dying embers of the fire. She lay with her back to his chest, her body snugly fitting against his. His right arm curved over her hip, holding a full silken breast. Alone with his thoughts in the darkness, he reconsidered his assessment of the woman sleeping so trustfully in his arms.

  How could he have been so mistaken about her reasons for renting the cabin so early in the season? Lots of people took vacations early in the year, and he had no reason to suspect she was any different or that she had an ulterior motive. So why was he so suspicious of her?

  Her sudden appearance at the cabin was purely coincidental. Perhaps if he had paid more attention to the mail he received from the realtor, he wouldn't have been so surprised when she arrived. And what if their paths had crossed more than once during the first few days of her visit? There was nothing in the rental agreement prohibiting his tenants from walking in the woods. How could there be? The walks around the cabin were one of the main attractions, along with the uninterrupted sea views and magnificent scenery.