Chapter 43
What would have happened if she’d decided not to come to Quinley, to leave Michelle to her own mess this time? She’d be in Langford now, having just been through a hurricane. The outgoing manager of Shady Oaks Condos would have to cope with the cleanup, but she’d probably have been called in to help even though she didn’t start officially for another week. Instead, she was here, toward the end of a perfect day, in a lakeside paradise with a man who said he loved her.
Loved her! When he’d said the miraculous phrase on the Beach, she’d been paralyzed, torn between joy and shock so that she’d probably looked like a parody of a stunned person. Nolan had laughed when he took her in his arms, told her not to say anything, that he’d been feeling it and wanted her to know.
Again, the unflappable Nolan, taking life as it came, though she could sense his disappointment. What would she give for that easy nature? If she’d been in his place and gotten no response, she probably would have hurled herself face-first into the sand and howled.
She’d wanted to give him some indication that her feelings had progressed way beyond the initial thrill, too, but it was beyond her to make that kind of declaration. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Even if this was the beginning of love—which was certainly possible, given that she’d never felt this way about anyone—it was love already doomed. In a few days she’d be starting an entirely new life. She didn’t want to do that with half her heart bound to someone she’d left behind. Long-distance relationships satisfied no one.
A breeze came across the lake, bringing more forest fragrances. A chickadee hopped on a nearby branch, head tipped to watch them curiously. A squirrel scolded Nolan for intruding on its territory; apparently it wasn’t intimidated by the Carrington dynasty.
“Let’s go in.” Nolan slapped a mosquito away from his ear. “Screened-in porch is a savior this time of year.”
The house, shaded by trees, was decently cool. Unused in a while, it smelled of pine and a faint fragrance of cleaners and moth balls. The furniture was summery in florals and pastels, walls decorated with landscapes and occasional kid art, the kitchen any cook’s dream, the dining room informal chic.
She helped Nolan open windows. Then he disappeared upstairs to start the attic fan, which drew air inside and up through the house, soon replacing the unpleasant stuffiness with fresh grassy aromas.
“I brought you a change of clothes and toothbrush.” He came back down, caught her examining a beautiful watercolor of the lake by a “Mark” she assumed was his brother. “I hope it was okay to go into your room back home and dig.”
“Of course. You think of everything.”
“I try.” He put his arms to her shoulders, kissed her forehead tenderly. “You know what I’d like before dinner?”
She put a hand to his chest, loving that he was so physical. “A shower.”
“Swim first?”
“I don’t have a suit.”
He grinned, lifting one eyebrow. “Private lake.”
“Ah.” She’d act as if skinny-dipping in daylight was something she did all the time. “Okay, then.”
“I’ll put some things in the refrigerator and join you.”
“Let me help?”
“No. You go have fun.” He shooed her out onto the side deck through the French doors in the large, airy kitchen.
Candace gave in and started for the lake, wondering how she’d survive those first weeks in Rosehill without this man she’d only known a few days. She’d been sure separation would quickly take care of the feelings they’d started. Now she wasn’t sure at all. She enjoyed him so much—and being madly pampered wasn’t bad, either.
She tramped down the path toward the narrow sandy beach where she’d have to get naked, peering around anxiously for stray hunters or nosy neighbors or armed psychotic. Nothing but tiny waves rippling the lake’s surface, a breeze that stiffened suddenly, keeping the worst of the mosquitoes away, and a small brown bird with a yellow beak hopping along the water’s edge.
So. Apparently she was supposed to strip now. Okay.
She pulled the yellow top over her head, folded and laid it neatly over a low tree branch, stepped out of her shorts, folded those and did the same. Glanced around nervously again, approached the water and tested it with her toe. Nice cool temperature; the air was warm enough this far inland that the lake would feel good on her stale sweat-dried skin, and the sun lowering in the sky was still strong enough to reheat her after she got out.
So.Okay.
She unhooked her bra, keeping careful watch for trespassers, and turned to her clothes-hanger branch when something caught her eye up at the house. Nolan, staring through the French doors. Pervert.
But knowing he was there keeping watch also made her feel safe. And daring. And yes, suddenly very ready to be naked.
She took off her bra, twirled it in circles over her head like a cowgirl stripper, and let it fly. Lifted her arms over her head and danced in a slow circle, undulating her hips, swinging her hair, then added a long topless shimmy facing the house, pretending she wasn’t at all aware of him. For her next number, she covered her breasts with her hands and did a few boom-bada-boom moves, then slid fingers down and beyond, snagging her panties on the way.
Voila. Naked. She turned her back to the house, caressed her rear in luxurious circles while performing a slow, erotic buns-out version of the twist, taking her down almost to kneeling, then back up. Not even glancing behind her, she tossed her head and sauntered toward the water, hearing, too late, the thud of his feet coming after her.
She squealed and started to run, splashing through the shallows; he caught up with her, lifted her around the waist and dunked her with him.
“Argh!” Candace surfaced, dripping, giggling, energized by the cold.n“Why you—” She lunged and tackled him around the waist, scoring a direct hit and rewarded with his collapse into the water. She swam away, then around in a circle.
He came up grinning, flung his head to the side to get hair off his face. “What were you trying to do with that striptease? Kill me?”
“Gee, Nolan, I had no idea you were watching.”