A Lover's Secret (10 page)

The car slowed to a stop just before the largest building. “Why
don’t you look around the grounds while I check in,” Jake suggested, as the
driver offered his hand to help her from the car.

The air had a bite to it. A copper fire pit in the center of
the plaza crackled with pinon logs. Jess’s shoes clicked on the stone as she
made her way toward the fire, wondering where on earth she was. She turned
then, slowly, to take in the beauty on all sides of her.

Jake approached from behind. “What do you think?” he asked
in a whisper.

“It’s gorgeous and so…quiet.”

“I thought you’d like that. This is truly a place of rest
and of healing.” He took her hand in his and squeezed. “There is actually a
rule here: No talking above a whisper. But that counts only in the public
areas. Once we get to our cottage, you can scream at the top of your lungs if
you like.”

Was that supposed to be seductive… or menacing? “So where
are we, exactly?” Jess asked, scanning the buildings for clues. “What is this
place?”

“I told you. It’s heaven. I come absolutely whenever I can.
For thousands of years, the mineral hot springs that flow through these cliffs
have been regarded as having mystical healing powers. But the best of all the
springs is still to come, and we’ll have it all to ourselves. We will have a
private Cliffside pool, at the most potent—and the hottest—of the springs.”

Just then, a small unmarked vehicle pulled alongside them.
“Your all-terrain golf cart awaits,” Jake said, sweeping his arm and helping
Jess step up toward the padded seat before climbing in beside her.

The cart bumped along the gravel, then made its way onto a
rough dirt path. “What you saw back there is the public area,” Jake explained,
“But we’ll be staying in complete seclusion. It’s one of the most private
resorts I’ve ever found, and the staff here is so accommodating, but highly
discreet. No one will hear a thing,” he said, winking.

Why all this talk of discretion, seclusion? Jess’s chest
tightened, then a fluttering sensation coursed through her. Once again, she
found herself trying to determine whether it was from desire or fear.

The path was rough and just wide enough for the cart. The
trees soared on either side of her, their branches arching over the river, shadows
flickering across the dappled water. Again, the sharp scent of wood smoke as
they approached a cozy adobe cottage, tucked away in the trees.

“Here we are, Mr. Lassiter,” said the driver, rolling to a
stop near an outdoor kiva-style pit where a fire had been laid.

“I’ll take it from here,” Jake said, as he palmed the driver
a tip and lifted their bags. Jess followed close behind as Jake opened the
front door, which had been painted cerulean blue. Inside, another fireplace
crackled. On a wood-plank table sat a vase of fresh wildflowers, brilliant
shades of blue, red and orange, and a formal setting for two. The back of the
home was encased entirely in glass, a sliding door in the center, through which
she could see a stone patio and a steaming pool edged by a sheer wall of chalky
white.

“The Cliffside grotto,” Jake murmured as he skimmed his hand
against Jess’s arm. He led her, then, placing one hand in the small of her
back, to the bedroom. The bed was piled with rose petals. On the side table, a
bucket of ice with champagne and chocolate covered strawberries.

Immediately, he plucked the champagne from the bucket and
examined the label. “May I pour?” he asked.

Elizabeth’s warning rang in Jess’s ears. “No, no. Not just
yet.”

He smiled and pulled back to look her in the eyes. “Okay,
would you like to take a dip first?”

Jess’s chest rose. Where would that lead? She felt a nervous
sensation in the pit of her stomach. Now that the time had come, now that they
were alone, she found that she was tremendously nervous. Scared. Maybe even
terrified.

“How about we sit by the fire for a bit?’ she gushed. “Or
maybe take a hike.”

“You want to take a hike?” He popped his eyebrows.

“Yeah. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Now?”

“Yeah.”

He laughed and squeezed at the back of his neck. “Okay.
Sure.”

“Or, maybe not a hike. Maybe a run instead.” Nothing was
better than running to calm her nerves. Plus, it would delay things. Maybe
after a run, she would be ready to… She gulped.

“Ah. How about a trail run. Through the river valley, around
the cliffs, across some spectacular high desert mesas.” His eyes danced now.

“That sounds perfect,” she said, and she snagged her
suitcase on the way to the bathroom to change her clothes. She frowned when she
discovered how tight her new running outfit was. It showed her entire midriff,
and there was no T-shirt to throw on top, but the shoes were perfect. They were
lime green and light but with a rigid sole, which buoyed her up and made her
feel fast and fierce.

When she emerged, he had changed into a pair of fitted black
shorts with a white stripe down the side and a T-shirt that read, “Keep Austin
Weird.” Immediately, he leapt forward. “Chase me!” he called, leading the way
out the back door, launching himself over the eight foot privacy fence and
leaping down the other side.

Would it have killed him to go out the front door? She
sighed, but smiled, too. This was her first clue they weren’t just going for a
nice jog along the river. By the time she maneuvered the fence, he was far
ahead, on a slender winding path, which hugged the base of the cliffs. He
disappeared between a break in the rocks, and when she reached it, she could
see the path climbed upward. Loose rocks from his footfalls above tumbled past
her. Her lungs burned but she was gaining on him.

He turned and saw that she had nearly caught him, and,
instantly, he took off faster. The landscape opened up, and the path snaked
through fragrant shrubs, wild herbs, mica glistening in the dirt. With each
footfall, she felt as though she were running faster; as though she were an
ancient warrior, ducking through brush, bounding over rocks. Her heart pounded
in her face, a sensation of sheer awareness, alertness.

Her body propelled her over a final ridge, and they reached
a plateau. The sun was dipping in the sky, and nature’s colors took on a
burnished light. Jake’s skin glowed with sweat and he breathed hard, his hands
on his hips.

“I can’t believe you can keep up with me,” he sputtered. “No
one can keep up with me.”

She smiled and tried to hide how out of breath she was.
“Running’s kind of my thing.”

“Well, let’s see how you do when I get to chase
you.”

“No,” she wheezed. “I’ll get us lost.”

 “No you won’t. You have to trust yourself. You’ll get us
back. You’re smart.”

“Still. I think you should lead.”

“Nah.” He winked. “I want
you
to be the prey this
time.”

She watched him watching her, her chest heaving, and then
she turned and she darted off, back down the hillside, her feet bounding over
the rubble in the trail.

After a time, she flipped her head back to see where he was.
“Why haven’t you caught me yet?” she called.

“Oh, every now and then I slow up. I don’t want to
catch
you yet. The fun is in the chase.”

And so she ran faster. Faster and faster over the uneven
terrain.

“You have a good sense of direction,” he shouted at one
point. “Like a cat.”

When she had reached the valley once again, where the trail
lay tight against the Cliffside, she could see the cottage, and so she began to
sprint. She could hear his shoes behind her, faster and faster. His breath
puffing in and out. The earth dipped low, and that’s when he caught her. Out of
nowhere, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back toward him. Then
he spun her and clutched her body to his. Her body leapt toward him, fierce and
grinding, and he grabbed her by the back of the neck. His kiss was sudden and
scintillating.

She was ready now. She knew she was. But she also knew that
her first time wasn’t going to be in the middle of the damn desert.

She wrestled away from him. “Dibs on the shower,” she
called, popping into a sprint.  

***

Jake

She had run directly into the shower. Of course she had.
Though it sure would have been hot if she’d stayed all sweaty.

She was too much. He’d never wanted any woman like he wanted
her. All of her. Body, mind, soul; her attention, her devotion, her future.
Everything.

Get a hold of yourself, Lassiter. Life isn’t fair and you’ve
made your peace with that fact. Don’t start all over again.

The best thing about Jess was the way being with her made
him forget everything. And that meant he could never tell her. If he did, that
magic would go away. So they would have their fun. Together. And then he would
need to deliver her back to her life. If he needed to, he would disappear…where
she couldn’t find him. The memories they would create this weekend would have
to be enough. They would
have
to be.

He sighed and plucked the champagne bottle from the watery
soup that now lined the ice bucket, a few stray cubes bobbing. It was a plastic
bottle, expressly prepared for enjoying in stone hot tubs, he assumed. The
glasses were plastic, too. Easy to tip.

He had only three days left with Jess before it would have
to end. No, just a little over two days now. And then that would be it.

He glanced at his watch. It had been more than six hours
since Elizabeth had administered the last dose. He had been able to run, so far
and fast, and it had felt like freedom itself. Something was working, and so he
could have a little champagne. But just a little. He popped the cork from the
bottle, holding it at just the right angle and capping it with a towel. Still,
the champagne spurted from the top when he slid the towel away and he held his
mouth over it instinctively. How he missed bubbly wine. And fine red wine. And
pints of golden amber.

The shower was still going strong. What was she doing in
there? He tipped the bottle into one of the plastic cups. It poured fast, and
the bubbles flowed up and over the top of the glass. He was thirsty from the
run, and, as he began to drink, the bubbles bit back on him. He stared now at
the bathroom door and allowed himself to fantasize about what she would look
like when she emerged. Pouring himself another glass, he imagined her body,
naked. Her trim waist. The burgeoning swells of her breasts. Her nipples like
tight rosy buds.

Before he had tossed back the second glass, he felt it. His
tongue went thick and his vision began to darken, as though a black and
menacing cloud was pushing through his awareness.

Shit, shit, shit. Why had he taken that drink? This was
worse than before, leaving him to assume that Elizabeth had ratcheted his
dosage even higher. Something about this experimental medication and the
alcohol, combined. It made him crazy. Maniacal. What word had Elizabeth used in
her repeated, explicit warnings… psycho?

Even at Andrew’s party, he had been a mess—a monster—
because of half a beer. He remembered what Andrew looked like the morning after
his bachelor party. His welted face, his broken nose. And now, the effects were
snowballing even faster.

He was so close now, but he couldn’t risk it. His hands
began to tremble. Shit, shit, shit. He plunked his head on the table and tried
to formulate a plan, before it was too late.

He would just need to take a little break. He would go
outside. Walk it off. Come back in a little bit, when whatever-this-was had
worn off. It couldn’t take too long.

Jess was calling to him now from the other side of the
bathroom door. The water was still running. Did he want her to join her in the
shower? Could he? No. He couldn’t trust himself. Not like this.

He dashed to the notepad near the phone. “Had to run out.
Stay warm until I return.” He added an XOXO, and then he bolted toward the front
door and squeezed out before closing it softly and silently behind him. That’s
when the darkness, which had already penetrated his vision, closed in on him.
All at once, his entire body tingled, then seized up, and he collapsed. The
last thing he remembered, before losing consciousness, was the smack of his
head against stone.  

***

Jess

The water steamed hot. It coursed over every inch of her
body, streaming in rivulets across her arms, her nipples; pounding against her
buttocks and the backs of her thighs.

She turned the faucet until it was nearly scorching. It
blasted on her scalp and coursed down her hair. As she imagined—fantasized—about
what she was about to do, something began to happen to her inside. Something
secret and dark and sweet. The hunger was finally outweighing her fear.

She swallowed. Her first time was going to be with Jake
Lassiter. On a bed of rose petals. She laughed. This guy really
was
a
cliché. A cliché of cool. She laughed again, and she called to him. Just to
hear his voice. No response.

What on earth was he planning out there? You never knew with
him. What would meet her eyes when she swept open the bathroom door?

She switched the water off now and dried herself with a
towel before sweeping her hand through the jar of body crème on the counter.
Rosemary and mint. She inhaled deeply and spread it thick on her skin. Then,
still naked, she plunged into the hallway to meet Jake.

An opened bottle of champagne. A scribbled note. No Jake.

She snatched at his note.
He had to run out?
For
what?

Her breath hitched and a profound heaviness rolled through
her body. How long would he be gone? The note didn’t say. She looked around for
clues. Maybe she should just peek out the front door. He couldn’t be far. She
padded over to it and rested her hand on the handle. No. Jake knew she was just
in the shower for a quick minute. He’d be back. Probably with some amazing
surprise.