Over the Line (7 page)

“No kidding,” he replied.

“But then there’s this place.” She ran her hands along the back of a silk-covered chaise longue. “So maybe a real fiancée would have stayed, if only to experience all this.” She winked at him.

“Something tells me that you’re not that easily impressed.” He smiled back as he opened the collar of his shirt. “Wanna go swimming?”

“Do we have time?” Beth said, eyeing her bags of purchases, wondering where the white swimsuit was.

“I suspect something will be planned tonight, and frankly, with all the work being done on the grounds, it might be as well to lay low.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice. I just need to find my swimsuit.”

“Okay, let me get changed and I’ll meet you out there.” He disappeared into what she could see was a marble bathroom, and she looked around for a second, and then threw herself onto the bed. It was like floating on a cloud. Talk about pillow top.

She stared at the dip-dyed material hanging from the ceiling and wondered what kind of person she’d be if she really was marrying James, and really was going to live in this world full of servants and maids. Would she be different?

Ha. No way.

James came out of the bathroom and did a double take when he saw Beth out of the corner of his eye, lying arms and legs splayed out on the bed. Just the sight of her there made him hesitate, even though she was fully dressed and obviously thinking about something else.

He loosened the waist of his swim shorts, trying to think about baseball and a list of American presidents. In reverse order. But he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He wanted her so fucking badly. Now that he knew how her lips tasted, how her skin quivered under his touch, it was agony waiting to touch her again.

He dragged his gaze back to the main room and decided that if he couldn’t seduce her here, he’d never be able to seduce her.

He left the door to the pool house open and dived into the clear water. He figured a loud splash would tell her the bathroom was clear. He took long strokes down the length of the pool, counting every stroke and every breath. Emptying his mind of everything except the strain of his muscles and the feel of cutting through the water. It worked for a while, but gradually, strands of Sadie’s and Maisie’s e-mails wove their way through his consciousness, until they were all he could think about. Why would anyone send them quasi-threatening e-mails? How would someone even get their e-mail addresses? The family was so security conscious, it was impossible to imagine anyone could even find them.

He finished a length underwater and his head popped up at her end of the pool, just as she left the house.

Jesus. Shit. Fuck. Obama, Bush, Clinton, Bush, Reagan…

The white swimsuit wrapped around her every curve. She looked like a 1950s movie star, hair wound up high on her head and huge sunglasses hiding her beautiful eyes.

“I had no idea you could hold your breath that long, airman,” she virtually purred. In reality, she probably sounded exactly the same as usual, but he couldn’t help but imbue his own fantasy on her.

Bush, Reagan, Carter, Ford, Nixon.

She took off her shades and dropped them on one of the double loungers positioned right outside the room. She stood at the edge of the concrete, wriggling her feet so her toes were hanging over the edge. He pulled his hands off the side of the pool and watched as she did a perfect toe touch before diving into the pool.

By the time she surfaced, all he saw was her bottom bobbing as she powered through the water. Shit. Why was her strength, and ability to do just about anything, such a turn-on for him? Every other woman he’d dated in the past ten years had been slight, tiny, and in need of being looked after. Why was he so into Beth? He was going to be a walking hard-on for three days. It was going to be some kind of sweet hell.

After doing a professional-looking flip-turn at the far end, she lazily backstroked her way back up toward him, stopping just short and floating. So close to him. Her forward momentum was bringing her toward him in a kind of slow-motion crash. He could see it coming, but couldn’t move out of the way fast enough in the water, and he wanted to put his hands out to gently fend her off, but at the last minute couldn’t decide what part of her body would be appropriate to touch in order to push away.

He had just decided on her shoulder, and stuck out his hand to stop her trajectory, when she gave a small kick, moving just a tiny bit faster than he had anticipated. He knew exactly what was going to happen only a fraction of a second before it did.

Yup, right on her breast.

She didn’t flinch or raise her head. She just said, “Forward, much?” and splashed some water at him as she came to a halt.

He snatched his hand back, saying, “I was aiming for your shoulder, but the target moved at the last minute.” But even as he said it, he knew his grin was the biggest fucking giveaway ever.

Beth laughed, just loud enough to be heard. “Good thing you had better aim in Afghanistan, or neither of us would be here to touch my boob.”

The thought of her touching her own breast was almost enough for him to go from zero to “that never happens, I’m so sorry” in just a few seconds. Fuck the presidents.

“Well, that would be a crime. The thought of neither of us being able to touch them.” In for a penny, in for a pound, was that what she’d said? “That night in Afghanistan, you know, before you carelessly got yourself shot, when you reached to check the .50-caliber gun, I saw the smallest part of your bra. I never forgot that. And then when I cut off your pants and realized your panties were the same color, it was a feat of superhuman strength that kept my mind on administering first aid and trying to stop you from dying. I mean, for a moment, it could have gone either way.”

“Really? Either way, huh?” She flipped herself upright and treaded water next to him, getting closer and closer. Beth took his hand in hers and drew it down. Down past her waist. And touched it to her hipbone. Then, lower, so his fingers were slowly stroking from her hip downward. When he touched her skin instead of her swimsuit, he swallowed. It took every ounce of strength in his body not to press his fingers against her center, slide them under her swimsuit and feel her heat.

Instead she stroked his fingers lightly over her scar. It felt soft, but slightly ragged. In seconds he had flashed back to when he thought he’d lost her. Frantically pushing back the tide of fear, trying to get the pararescuers to land and take her to safety. Some other emotion overwhelmed him, overtook his pure lust for her, and he slid his hand around her wet neck and pulled her the few inches to him.

Her lips were soft, yielding. For a second. Then she slid her free hand around his hips and brought him against her. Electricity shot through him. There was nothing hotter than a woman who took what she wanted. Nothing.

Her mouth opened under his assault and he slid his tongue against hers. He had an overpowering need to hold her, to bask in her, to protect her. His mouth pressed against hers as if he was keeping her alive somehow. Breathing life into her.

Suddenly they were underwater, sinking into the warmth of each other and the water. He maneuvered her to the side of the pool and slid her up the wall so that they could breathe again. Bracing her against the wall, he held her up while he kissed her, pulling away only to bite at her water-slicked neck.

She shuddered under his touch, as if he
had
just brought her back to life.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she murmured. He didn’t hear her as much as felt the tremor in her neck.

“Hmm?” James said, mouth still on her neck.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she said, a little more clearly this time.

James pulled away to assess his ability to persuade her, but only heard his father’s voice.

“No, you really shouldn’t,” it said.

Beth jumped about a mile at the close proximity of the new voice. He turned her to the wall so she could hold on, and turned himself to address his dad.

“Father. Good to see you.”

“Good God, son. How many times have I found you making out with some girl or another in this pool? It’s getting a little old now, isn’t it?”

Beth prodded him in his butt cheek. He jumped and made a face.

“It wasn’t that many.” He turned back to Beth. “I swear it wasn’t that many.”

“Nevertheless, I’m at least ninety-nine percent sure you should be too old for this now,” his father continued.

“Dad, this is…”

“Beth, sir. Nice to meet you,” she said, holding out her hand.

His father crouched by the pool and shook her wet hand, and as soon as he released it, he put his hand on James’s head and dunked him, just like he’d done every day throughout the summers of his childhood. Every day after work, his father would come get James out of the pool for dinner and would invariably try to dunk him in the process.

He surfaced again to hear her throaty laugher. She had a great laugh, too. Shit, he was a goner.

“Your mother and I have a function to go to tonight, so we won’t see you again until breakfast tomorrow. Good to see you, James. We’ll meet properly later, Beth.” He nodded, and she smiled back at him as he turned to leave.

They watched him until he was out of sight, and Beth pulled herself out of the pool.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I think I left my dignity in one of the bags in the closet. I’m going to see if I can find it.”

“Wait! Are you okay?” He jumped out after her, still slightly poleaxed by the emotions that were playing with his mind.

She paused to look at him. He could see that her nipples had hardened under her swimsuit. Her perfect nipples on her perfect breasts. A shaft of heat stabbed through him as he longed to take them between his teeth. Fuck. He needed an anti-Viagra.

She gave a smile. “Don’t worry, I’m just going to take a shower. We’ll forget about this. Again.” She gestured at the space between them.

“You’ll love the shower.” He couldn’t wait until they were faking it around other people, so he could touch her with impunity. He had turned into a Machiavellian bastard.

* * *

Beth changed into a robe so that she wouldn’t get her new clothes wet while she was hanging them up. She was so turned on that she was practically vibrating.

She wanted him. But she was also scared at what she saw in his eyes. The warmth there spoke of intimacy. Emotional intimacy. She had to nip that in the bud. Sex. Sex she could deal with, enjoy, understand, feel guilty about later. The rest was messy, annoying, and ultimately devastating. But she had a sneaky suspicion that sex wouldn’t just be sex with James.

She needed to focus on the mission: pretend to be engaged and look after Maisie. Nothing else. Ignore the heat between James and her, and… she groaned to herself. Why was everything so complicated? She needed… a freaking cold shower.

James was right; the shower was incredible. The bathroom was tiled in a coffee-colored marble. It had two basins, a claw-footed bath, and a toilet inside, and through some glass doors, the shower was outside, surrounded by a wooden slatted fence. No one could see in, or out.

She released her wet hair from the knot on the top of her head and let the water cascade over her. The slight breeze and the rustle of the leaves in the trees were not doing a good job of making her feel less aroused. The wind blew across her aching nipples, and the rest of her skin, like a caress. She ran her soapy hands over herself like a lover. Briefly. Half of her wanted a release that would stop her from feeling like a schoolgirl around James. Half of her knew it would only increase her appetite.

She turned the water temperature down as she washed her hair.

Enough.

She stepped back inside to wrap her hair in a towel and shrug into the big fluffy robe once more. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and laughed. There was absolutely nothing sexy about the way she looked now.

James was still lying in the sun, so she nudged him with her foot.

“All clean now?” he asked without opening his eyes.

“I wasn’t
that
dirty before,” she countered.

He laughed and sat up. “I am not touching that comment with a ten-foot pole.”

“Very wise.” She sat at a table, putting her feet up on the neighboring chair. “I was going to get dressed, but I didn’t know what we would be doing later.”

“Sadie will show up soon. My bet is a bar in the city.” He looked at his watch. “We probably have an hour or so before we have to get dressed. Are you okay here? I’ll take a shower if so.”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, puzzled.

“No reason. I’ll be back in a few.” He jumped up and went into the house.

Beth unwound her hair towel and ran her fingers through the long waves. She turned the chair so that the sun could dry her hair and settled back.

From the other side of the pool house, she heard the shower splash on, and tried really hard not to think about James and his body under the shower. Really hard. She shifted in the chair and wondered if
he
was really hard.
Damn it.
She clenched her fists in the pockets of the robe to stop them from wandering anywhere they shouldn’t. With the cadence of the water she could visualize him turning under the shower head, tipping his face up to the water…

“Excuse me?” A voice came from across the pool.

Beth sat up and saw the source of the voice. Older than Maisie and James. She was either a maid, another Henrietta-type, or Sadie.

“I’m Sadie.” She was tall like the rest of her family. She had short dark hair and was very elegantly dressed, with flared white pants and a black boat-neck top.

Beth jumped up. “Of course you are. I’m so happy to meet you. I’m Beth.”

Sadie laughed. “I can’t believe you’re not a mirage. I just heard that he turned up with a fiancée and felt sure I was hallucinating. But here you are. I’ve been so eager to actually meet you since I heard. I’m happy you were both able to come. When I sent James his “plus one” invitation, it was really just for Mom’s benefit. I knew he would never come. But here you both are!”

Sadie looked at the chair next to Beth and then in toward the kitchen in the pool house. “Do you mind if I…” Her voice trailed off as Beth followed her gaze toward the huge wine fridge.

“Oh no, not at all. Help yourself.” Beth grinned.

“Will you join me? Red or white?” Sadie asked as she opened the door.

“White please.”

Sadie returned with glasses, a bottle, and a wine cooler. Talk about every convenience. She sank onto the chair next to Beth, facing the pool. She cast a look in the direction of the house and winced a little. “As you can probably see, it’s gotten a little out of hand. That’s Mom and Dad for you. This whole thing started as fifty people in a small church in Bethesda. Now it’s kind of a circus.”

“I’m sure it will be a beautiful wedding,” Beth said.

“I so wish it was already Sunday. I’d be on my honeymoon and all this craziness would be over with.”

That would have been an ideal opening to ask Sadie about the weird e-mails, but Beth didn’t feel comfortable asking her about them. She wished James were out here already.

Beth took a long, welcome sip of cold wine. “Where are you going on your honeymoon?”