Good grief, Maud said. Youre going to make our eyes cross. None of us give a holy damn about the still business, dear, we were just trying to get you talking. You havent had a man near you since you came home after the divorce, and suddenly youve got this gorgeous hulk living with you-
Hunk, Mary Bell corrected.
Whatever. The point is that your mother isnt here, but we all know shed be hoping that youre taking advantage of the situation.
Violet gulped down another sip of daiquiri, feeling cornered. Furthermore, her cats had all hunkered on top of the refrigerator, away from the bawdy, noisy drinkers with their increasingly stiff facial masks. Hes not living with me. Hes just living here. Until the roof for the cottage is done-which was supposed to have been finished a whole month ago. In fact, almost two months ago now. I cant make Bartholomew show up regularly for work to save my life.
Thats roofers, dear. I should know. I was married to one for twelve years. He only showed up on time for dinner twice, God rest his soul. Anne Blayton almost never spoke up, but shed finished two glasses of wine now. Her mask was starting to crack like old parchment. He sure was good between the sheets, though.
Well, youve been through enough husbands, you should be a judge, Mary Bell said sweetly.
The point, Maud said, is not whether hes sleeping here or in the cottage, but where hes not sleeping when the lights go out. Are you deaf and blind, Violet Campbell? Last week, with that ghastly heat wave, I swear the only redeeming part of my day was to drive past here and see him walking in the yard, at least half the time without a shirt. Whooee.
I hadnt noticed. Violet reached forward to pour a little wine into her now-empty glass.
Violet, honey, you just added wine to your daiquiri, Mary Bell said kindly. Youre just not yourself.
I am too myself.
The back door opened again. Cameron ambled in. Hi, ladies. Looks like youre having fun. He deposited an empty can in the trash, smiled at the group, stroked three cats and ambled through to the other room.
Four women let out another collective sigh. All of them were smiling hard enough to crack their masks. Its time we washed you all off, Violet said firmly.
That was at least three times hed walked in this afternoon. Three times, when hed laughed and joked with the women. It wasnt that long ago that he would have had a cow and a half over an estrogen-loaded event like this. He didnt run anymore. He didnt act terrified-or even surprised-if he wandered into the kitchen and found a roomful of masked women with their bare feet in buckets, sitting in bathrobes in the middle of the afternoon.
It just wasnt natural. He was beyond being the ideal guy-helping her with everything from dishes to chores, making the whole lavender thing look effortless, doing his own wash, never taking over the remote, bringing groceries in. Hed quit trying to finish the roof, but that was only because hed completely run out of spare time. Normal men only helped out if they were harassed, blackmailed or wanted sex. Everybody knew that. Cameron seemed to think it was ordinary behavior to pitch in. More confusing yet, he took every damn thing in her life in stride, as if it were all very interesting, instead of the nature of stuff that should have given an alpha guy like him nightmares.
Instead, hed been giving her nightmares.
As soon as the women were cleaned up and herded out, Violet piled dishes into the sink, added sudsy water and then turned on the dishwasher. A moment later she realized shed turned the dishwasher on without any dishes in it, and thought shed either had too much to drink
Or too little Cameron.
She looked frantically around for the dish towel, but it seemed to have disappeared.
Two weeks ago hed claimed he wanted to sleep with her. Intended to sleep with her. Imminently soon.
Only, they hadnt.
Hed been kissing her regularly. Over breakfast. Before lunch. In the middle of the day, if he found her in the Herb Haven with her hands filled with a dried-herb arrangement, hed take a bite out of the back of her neck, cup her fanny. Hed walked with her in the moonlight. Theyd hip-danced doing the dishes after dinner, barged in on each other coming out of the bathroom, fallen asleep watching horror movies on the same couch.
But the damn man hadnt done one thing about seriously seducing her. She was free! She was cheap! She was available. She had boobs. She wasnt asking him for a single thing! So what was the matter with the man?
Upstairs, she heard the pipes rattle. He was taking a shower. She opened the refrigerator for some God-unknown reason and found her dish towel. She held the cool towel to her pounding head. The man was turning her into a train wreck. She had to get her life back. She couldnt remember where her shoes were, her keys, her dishrags. She was starting to become ditsy for real.
Enough was enough. If Mohammed wasnt willing to come to the mountain, she was darn well going to have to try seducing the mountain herself.
Cameron walked into the kitchen and stopped dead. Theyd been sharing KP duty over the past couple weeks, but after seeing the war zone caused by the womens group earlier, hed put on clean khakis and a decent shirt, figuring that Violet would want to go out to dinner.
Instead, the women were gone and the kitchen cleaned to within an inch of its life-give or take the cats and cat hair. The old oak table had white quilted place mats, roses floating in a bowl, some kind of wild salad-smelled like lemon-pepper shrimp-puffed-up fresh rolls
Violet whirled around. Were having something I call come-to-Bahama wings. Theyre chicken wings without the bones. Kind of hot. A little lime juice, some rum, some honey, some hot peppers I guess I should have asked you first, but you can handle hot, cant you, Lachlan?
Sure, he said, but the adrenaline was instantly pumping. Something was wrong. Worrisome wrong. The way she smiled at him raised the temperature in the kitchen twenty degrees. He saw the hot wings and the roses and heard the come-to-mama invitation in her voice.
Everywhere he looked, there were more land mines. And the more he looked, the more he recognized that shed gone to a ton of trouble, laying all kinds of intricate, tricky traps.
She was barefoot, wearing a skirt that looked like a long, floaty handkerchief. Her midriff was bare, her long hair all scooped up and twisted and sedated with long clips off her neck. Said neck had been doused with some lethal scent-not her usual citrus soap, for damn sure, but something that reached his nostrils from the doorway. The perfume was a drug. That was all he was sure of.
Her lips had been coated with something shiny, and she was wearing a top that looked like another handkerchief. Only the top was actually about the size of a handkerchief this time, such a light fabric that he could clearly make out the plump swell of her breasts and the shape of her nipples.
Whew, its really hot tonight, isnt it? she said with a grin.
His bloodstream shot his heart another dose of adrenaline. Yeah, hed suspected that patience-and celibacy-would pay off eventually. But Violet was usually so warm and nurturing that hed never figured shed be the kind of woman to play mean.
This setup wasnt just mean; it was down and dirty.
I figured you had such a swamped afternoon that youd want to go out, pick up dinner. Hell, Id have helped if Id known you were going to all this trouble.
No trouble, she said sweetly. Youve been working crazy long hours yourself. I decided that we both needed some real food and a relaxing evening for a change.
Relaxing, he echoed, thinking that nothing about this setup was remotely relaxing. On the other hand, even in ninety-degree heat after putting out a ten-hour work day, his entire body was hard as stone. Hard, willing and high on anticipation.
However, he hadnt sucked it up and slept alone the past two weeks just to let her get off this easy. Yeah, he was willing to kiss her feet-and all the way up from there. But he hadnt deprived himself, or her, without reason. He smiled at her as if his blood wasnt pounding, ambled up behind her and dropped a soft, slow kiss on the drift of her nape. What can I do to help?
He felt her responsive shiver-but she recovered too darn fast. Nothing but enjoy the feast. Orhow about if you pour the wine? Its red. I know youre supposed to have white wine with fish and chicken, but I didnt have any aroundand red is so much more potent, dont you think?
Another glossy, sultry smile, another tip of the lashes. He thought, Ill be lucky to make it through dinner without throwing her on the table and going for it. Yeah, I like red better than white, too. Hey
Yes?
Somehow he had to buy some time. He was more than willing to let her have her way. But first he wanted to understand what had motivated all these sudden wicked tactics of hers-not that he wasnt enjoying them. Just that he figured a few minutes of distracting conversation was a good idea. I was thinking how crazy it was that weve been together every day, yet I never asked you what you did. I mean, I know you moved here after a divorce and set up your herb business. But what kind of work did you do before that?
Work? The question obviously startled her, because momentarily she forgot the sultry-smile, big-eye thing.
Yeah. I mean, for a living. Were you into some kind of different career before this?
There went the last of the provocative smile and the hip sashaying. It wasnt as if she didnt still look sexy as hell, and then some, but as if she stopped planning it.
She handed him dishes, one after the other, and he carted them to the table. Within minutes they were eating. A half hour later they were on the last bites and their second glass of wine.
I was a physical therapist, she told him. I didnt have any kind of formal specialty or anything fancy like that. But I mostly worked with kids. Kids whod been in accidents, lost a limb or use of a limb. Tough road, to get a little one physically and emotionally prepared for life again, after going through a trauma to that extent.