The House at the Bottom of the Hill (19 page)

They were both breathing, hard—but the air was otherwise silent.

All too soon his body recovered. His heartbeat slowed. Then his mind took over.

What had they just done and what were they going to do now? She didn’t speak. He paused for a few more seconds. What did he normally do after sex? What had he done with all the other women he’d been with? He couldn’t remember and didn’t want to drag out any reminders of other women while he had this passionate, beautiful one in his arms. Maybe he should kiss her. He wanted to. He’d kissed her dozens of times in the last minutes but the silence between them hummed in his head. What the hell should he do? Why couldn’t he think straight? It wasn’t the right situation to make a joke, no matter how small a joke—unless she made one first. He put his chin onto the top of head and held her against him. He’d wait and see what she did.

Charlotte’s body sang and she was trapped in the rousing chorus. Did the man have any idea how gloriously he handled … everything? She’d never had sex so fast in her life. No man had ever made her—not that fast. His jaw was on top of her head and his arms still around her. She lifted her chin a little and nuzzled it against his shoulder. His heartbeat slowed from the pounding beat she’d felt hammering against her as he took his turn. She relaxed into the satisfying knowledge she could make a big strong guy like Daniel get seriously hot and bothered. Fast. But what to do now?

She cleared the dreaminess of the moment from her mind, and swallowed the sweetened moisture in her mouth. ‘Well.’

‘Well?’ he asked, leaning back and looking at her as though expecting her to answer some unspoken query.

She compressed her lips to halt the smile that wanted to flourish. He looked studious. Courteous. ‘Um …’ Should she thank him? Kiss him on the cheek, move from him, pick up her clothes and get dressed in a nonchalant manner? One of them ought to say something. ‘How long do you think it took?’

He relaxed his shoulders. ‘I hazard a guess at three minutes.’

She half expected him to keep kissing her. To give her a cuddle or something but it looked like he didn’t know what to do either. ‘I’d best go then.’

He moved his shoulders as though to stop her and peered at her. ‘Why?’

‘I’m feeling vulnerable.’

He grinned. ‘I think I am too.’

Such a relief, seeing his boyish smile appear. ‘You?’ She poked him in his chest. ‘You’re a well-developed, fit and muscly man. What have you got to be vulnerable about? I’m the naked visitor in your room.’

He ran his gaze down her throat, over her breasts and back to her eyes. ‘Going by the clock, we’ve still got two minutes.’

Hadn’t they already set a record? Or perhaps hot, speedy sex was his speciality—of course it was, she’d had a taste of his expertise—and maybe he didn’t do soft-and-cuddly after sex.

‘Reckon we could do anything in that time?’ he asked.

Another round of pulsating, earth-shattering pleasure? Charlotte blinked. ‘I only came in for a coffee.’

He smiled slowly and leisurely. He ran his hand over her brow, brushing her hair from her face, and lowered his until his mouth was almost touching hers. ‘Let me get you a refill.’

C
harlotte’s lips had been pummelled by his kisses. He might not want to do cuddly things after sex, but boy, the man knew what to do to a woman’s mouth in the midst of the action. And all other womanly parts too. His soft touches said enough. She ought not to expect romance—not at this stage, if any stage, although she had a hankering for such frivolous additions. Probably due to surprise at what they’d done.

They hadn’t made it to the bed the second time either, but there was something romantically risqué about doing it on pieces of his home gym equipment and he’d shown himself to be super fit with his repetitions and sets. He’d been caring, making sure she had her turn before he took his. And after, helping her dress. Handing her her underwear with a little bow, and fastening the buttons on her blouse.

As she walked out of his bedroom and into the bar, her responses to his masterful display of strength and energy sent the percussive rhythm of a rumba to her hips.

She turned to him as she got to the locked and shuttered swing doors. ‘Do you think anyone saw me come in?’ She shrugged and rolled her eyes. What a stupid question. Of course they had.

‘Want to go out the back way?’ he asked.

She chewed on her bottom lip. ‘Ouch.’

He ran his thumb over her lips. ‘Sorry. Are your lips sore?’

So much kissing. She shook her head. ‘It’s okay, they haven’t been used for much more than—’

He compressed his lips, amusement shining in his eyes.

‘Talking,’ she said. ‘Talking.’

He nodded. ‘I knew you meant that.’ He took hold of her hand. ‘Go out the back way. Chances are anyone who saw you come in has forgotten about looking for you going out.’

He led her back through the bar, bypassing his bedroom and into a short corridor filled with silver kegs, bar paraphernalia and plastic glass-trays. He unlocked the back door, opened it and popped his head out. ‘All clear. Saunter around the corner of the alley at the B&B end and call for Lucy—make it sound as though you’ve been out looking for her.’

Charlotte nodded, stepped to the door, and turned. ‘Best if we don’t mention this to anyone.’

‘I won’t be saying anything.’

‘Your reputation will swing upwards, mine will grind to a halt.’

He smiled. ‘Not by my count.’

She stared at him, a sudden, horrible thought of him telling tales across the bar coming vividly into her mind. Her concern must have shown on her face.

‘I don’t kiss and tell, Charlotte.’

Of course he didn’t. She relaxed. ‘Well, bye then.’ Was this the point where she leaned up and kissed him? Or thanked him, or something?

He took hold of her arm. ‘Was that a once-only episode or can we make a sequel?’

Oh, she’d prayed to the goddess who’d planted those abs on him that he’d make a suggestion about another round but hadn’t wanted to appear pushy. She’d been more forward with him over the last hour than she’d been with any man in her life. ‘Part two might be interesting.’

‘Tonight? Your place?’ He tipped his head, indicating the bar behind him. ‘I send Lily home early on a Friday and I can get Josh to take care of things after that. I’ll tell him I’ve got business to attend to.’

‘Okay, but if you change your mind, that’s fine.’

‘Won’t be happening.’

‘Let me know though, would you? So I’m not waiting for you.’

‘Knowing you’ll be waiting will be hurrying me right along.’

His encouragement sent a thrill through her. ‘So what time?’ she asked.

‘It’ll be late. Can I get back to you?’

‘How?’

He looked around as though searching for something he’d misplaced. ‘Lucy. Send her down the alley about eight o’clock. It’ll be dark by then. I’ll slip a note in her collar and send her right back.’

‘Wouldn’t it be easier to text me?’

He lifted the corner of his mouth. ‘Yeah, but that’s boring.’

He wanted covert and exciting? Like snipers in the bush. Or in this case, sneaky lovers in the alley. ‘Okay.’

Charlotte turned to the door, and on impulse, swung back to Daniel, reached up and kissed him quickly on his cheek. She didn’t look into his eyes or wait for any response, just walked out into the late morning air, hoping she didn’t look as dishevelled as she felt. She’d started a clandestine affair with Hotshot and couldn’t tell anyone. There was no-one to announce it to, but she wanted to run up the hillside and bellow from the depths of her lungs: ‘He’s got serious hardware!’

Dan sat, propped his feet on the desk in his room, crossed them at the ankle and put his hands behind his head.

Now he came to consider it, he’d been wanting to do the deed with Red since he’d first seen her, and any number of wild fantasies about the next time were crowding his head. Most importantly, she’d liked what he’d done. Everything he’d done. Although next time, he’d make sure he got her on the bed. There were things they could only do if they were on the bed.

He’d liked what she’d done too. Fast, fiery little Red with enchanting curves and fascinating skills. He sighed, long and deep, and closed his eyes. Her words—
Oh I like that
;
Don’t stop that—
were embedded in his memory as much as the imprint of her skin on his.

He opened his eyes and glanced around his room. He’d never be able to use the incline bench again without thinking about being straddled over Charlotte. He might dip the bench in gold and tuck it in a corner so he could stare at it in years to come and remember every delicious thing he and Red had done on it. Naked Red. Firecracker Red. Sexy—

He took his hands from behind his head and his feet off the desk.
In years to come
? Now there was a problem. How long was it going to last? Hopefully for some time, like a few months, but it wasn’t dating. He doubted Charlotte would officially date him anyway, even if he wanted things to progress that way.

There seemed to be some unspoken understanding between them to keep things quiet, which was just as well. Along with the old-fashioned values in town came expectations of traditional courtship. Casual sex wasn’t spoken of and neither would it be condoned. That sort of behaviour from Charlotte—not that it was anyone’s concern what her decisions were about sleeping with Dan—might bring up new concerns from the townspeople, just as they were beginning to accept her. Those couples in or around town who shared a few fun moments between the sheets were usually on the road to marriage anyway but any diversion they found while on the relationship road to permanency, they kept private. Which is what Dan and Charlotte would be doing. Privacy that was, not permanency.

He checked his watch. Nine hours until eight o’clock. It would be more like ten hours before he could get over to her place. What was he going to do for ten hours?

He kicked back and put his hands behind his head again. He ought to stop calling her Red. ‘Charlotte,’ he said. There’d be times when they’d be soft and slow. Times where he watched her take more than one turn before he took his. Fast and feverish was great—surely no guy anywhere, ever, had complained about a hot quickie—but what Dan wanted with Red was a follow-up of slower, more ponderous sexual physical contact. He couldn’t whisper little words of encouragement in her ear by calling her Red. ‘Charlotte,’ he said again, and thought up a number of words of encouragement he could use. ‘That’s another thing you’ve got to remember to do,’ he told himself. Tell her good things about herself. Like how she felt when she was spooned into him and he was giving her a bear hug. He’d make sure he complimented her too. Not that he’d ever thought himself an inconsiderate lover. Mostly, he put his heart and soul into behaving like the perfect gentleman, before and after. And as much as he could during. With Charlotte, he had a feeling he’d be putting in more effort than ever before. She sort of made it easy for him to show that kind of gentlemanly display. What a beautiful woman. And for the moment—all his.

‘Dan!’

Shit. Dan pushed off the chair and walked to his bedroom door. He’d forgotten Josh had a key to the front doors of the bar.

‘Dan!’

‘Coming.’ He pulled his bedroom door open and faced Josh. ‘What are you doing here this early?’

‘Came into town to pick up more of Grace’s pickles for the craft centre.’

‘Right.’ The craft centre Ethan and Sammy had started housed any number of things that showcased the skills in town. Home produce, quilting and sewing stuff, woodwork, like the rocking chairs Red had bought for her veranda. Some of Sammy’s local landscape artwork. Even bricklayers and rope makers got a look in. ‘So what are you doing in the bar?’

‘You better get into the back alley quick.’

Dan’s heartbeat skipped a deadly beat. Had something happened to Charlotte? ‘Why?’

‘What have you been doing?’ Josh asked with a frown. ‘Can’t you hear it?’

‘What?’

‘The truck, Dan.’ Josh raised his voice as though talking to someone who didn’t speak English. ‘There’s a truck in the back alley dropping off seven shower units.’

‘How about tomorrow morning? Ten o’clock?’

‘Let me consult my social calendar.’

Julia laughed down the phone and Charlotte smiled into the mouthpiece. ‘I’m not in the market for a new me, though,’ she warned.

‘Oh, come one,’ Julia said in exasperation. ‘Let’s play.’

‘And I’m not getting my hair cut.’ She put her fingers through the ends of her hair. ‘Maybe a wash and blow dry—and I think I need a treatment.’

‘Great, I have this spectacular brand of products I’ve been dying to try out and if you think the ends of your hair are dry, you probably need a trim.’

Charlotte sighed. ‘A quarter of an inch.’

‘How are your nails? What about a French manicure?’

Charlotte wiggled her fingers. How long would polish last with all the renovations she planned? ‘Maybe just a manicure.’

‘With polish.’

Charlotte gave in. ‘A light polish, pale pink or something.’ Oh, bugger, there she went again—going for pink.

‘Red.’

‘Yes?’ Charlotte answered.

Julia laughed. ‘I meant red nail polish. What did you think I meant?’

‘Oh, nothing.’ Red was the name Daniel had given her. When had she started to think of it as a plausible, endearing nickname and not offensive? ‘Red?’ she asked, as the notion of what Julia was suggesting sank in. ‘Bright red? Like my front door?’

‘What other kind of red is there? I’ve got the perfect lipstick match too. This is going to be fun.’

Charlotte was tempted. The thought of refreshing herself appealed. A little time out. Nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that she had a man—or rather she’d had a man, about an hour ago—but a bit of pampering wouldn’t go amiss for either reason.

‘Do me a favour, would you, Charlotte? Wear something that isn’t white or beige.’

That would be tricky. She had the rose-pink skirt but it was in the wash.

‘Just because you’re in the country doesn’t mean you have to turn into Anne of Green Gables,’ Julia continued. ‘Although don’t get me wrong, ivory suits you. In fact ivory is
you
. You need to make sure your wedding dress is ivory, not white.’