“Fine. Gentlemen.” He tipped his hat, which Pepe had retrieved for him, turned Charger around, and headed for town at a slow trot.
Chapter 18
Their escapade had created quite a commotion. They were asked hundreds of times about their well-being, despite their continued assurances to everyone that they were fine.
Sitting at a picnic table with Olivia and Carson, they ate the sandwiches that Rosa had packed for them. Jared drank locally brewed beer with the men gathered around the barrels. Lauren watched him from her place near Olivia, and was thrilled when he glanced her way and smiled. She tried hard to keep her mind on the conversations going on around her and to give the proper answers to the myriad questions being asked by the ladies of Coronado about how she liked her new life in Texas. But her mind was on Jared’s mouth, how warm it was against hers. His hands, strong, demanding, yet gentle.
While the band played a Christmas concert to mark the conclusion of the festivities, Jared sat close beside her on the blanket he had spread on the grass. His breath was on her cheek. She could smell the aroma of his cheroots, the leather of his vest. If only we could stay like this forever, she thought.
Olivia hadn’t missed the looks and the “accidental” touches between them after the madcap drive in the car. After the Vandivers had left, pleading that they had commitments in Austin, she focused all her attention on Jared and his wife. She didn’t like what she saw. Something was simmering, and it must be cooled before it came to a boil. It was dangerous to all of her plans. It must not happen!
They left late in the afternoon. Rosa had chili and cornbread waiting for them when they got home. They ate tiredly, but two of the people at the table were too exhilarated to have much of an appetite.
Carson left directly afterward, and Olivia pleaded fatigue and suggested they retire early. Lauren and Olivia walked up the stairs together, leaving Jared in the library with a nightcap.
* * *
Sometime during the night, Lauren awoke with a start. It took a moment for her to get her bearings. She listened. The house was still. She lay back down and, just as she did, she heard a groan. When a sharp cry followed it, she jumped out of bed, alarmed.
The sound came from Jared’s room. Without even pausing to put on a robe, she crept through the bathroom and tentatively knocked on the connecting door. He didn’t answer, but again she heard the rasping cry and louder moans. What if he were ill? Should she go in? She paused only an instant before she opened the door a crack and peered into the room.
Jared was thrashing on his bed, twisting and tossing in the agony of a nightmare. Lauren quickly crossed to the bed and saw his bare chest heaving, his face beaded with perspiration. The words coming out of his mouth were unintelligible, but conveyed a terrible torment. He murmured the name Alex over and over. “Jared, wake up.” Reaching out a cautious hand, she touched his shoulder and shook him slightly. “Jared, please wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”
He only became more violent. He thrashed his arms and tossed his head on the pillow, his teeth bared as he gnashed them. Lauren dodged the flailing arms, but managed to capture both wrists and, leaning over, pinioned them on either side of his head.
He struggled for release, but somehow she was able to hold him. “Jared, wake up.”
He opened his eyes and, as if hinged at the waist, bolted upright. The sheet fell around his middle. Oh, my Lord, he’s naked! Lauren realized. He gulped in great amounts of air and shook his head in an effort to clear it of the tormenting dream. Shaky fingers raked through damp, tousled hair before covering his face.
Lauren slipped through the darkness to his shaving mirror on the bureau and poured fresh water from a pitcher into the basin. She moistened a towel and brought it back to the bed.
“Jared, you were having a nightmare,” she said softly, comfortingly. “Are you all right now?”
He nodded dumbly as she sponged his forehead with the cool cloth. When he lowered his hands, she bathed the rest of his face and neck.
“Thank you, Lauren. I’m fine now.” He moved away from her hands.
“Were you dreaming about Cuba? Alex?”
He looked at her sharply, then away. “Yes,” he said hoarsely. Was he trembling?
“Would you like to talk about it?” Her voice was a faint whisper. Until her fingers touched the sun-bleached curls on his head, she hadn’t realized she had reached for them.
“No,” he answered gruffly. Then, desperately, “Yes. Lauren?” His arms went around her waist in a viselike clasp, and he drew her to him, burying his face between her breasts. Her knees bumped against the bed frame.
She hesitated only a moment before cradling his head in her arms. His ragged breath was warm and moist on her skin through the thin batiste nightgown. She was grateful to the darkness for lending her a modicum of modesty. Murmuring words of comfort, she stroked his head, weaving the coarse curls through her fingers. His hands moved over her back, tracing her spine with sensitive fingers.
Long minutes passed, and still he didn’t release her. Almost imperceptibly, he moved his head between her breasts, and began nuzzling her with his nose and mouth, pressing small, hot kisses on her flesh.
A longing deeper and more potent than any emotion she had felt in her life pierced her to the core. A warm flush washed over her skin as her heartbeat accelerated.
Her limbs seemed to have turned to water, but with surprising strength, she drew his head closer yet. A soft, ecstatic cry escaped her open lips when he took her nipple into his mouth. He tugged on it gently with a sweet warmth before his tongue swept across it, wetting the fabric of her gown.
Lauren’s body was swimming with sensations and she almost melted to the floor when the strong support of his arms was suddenly withdrawn. Jared sa
t with his knees raised, his head hanging between them, his face in his hands.
“Leave me, Lauren,” he grated. His voice was so low that she could barely hear the words.