Into His Private Domain Page 6

  The house was built into the side of the mountain, with several staircases leading to various levels. Gareth led them down and down until they passed through a set of glass doors and into a steamy, scented enclosure big enough to hold six or eight of her luxurious bedrooms.

  The centerpiece of the room was an inviting pool, irregularly shaped to resemble a natural lake. All around the edge, tropical plants and flowers thrived in the misty air. Somewhere in the distance, soothing music played, with lots of flutes and Native American overtones.

  The decking was cobblestone. Lounge chairs covered in batik-print fabric were scattered about.

  At the far end of the pool, draped by thick palm fronds, flowed a waterfall, an actual waterfall.

  Gareth tossed his towel on a seat. “What do you think?”

  She scanned the whole area, quite sure her mouth was hanging open. “It’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “How would you know?”

  She looked at him curiously, finally returning his smile when she realized that the taciturn Gareth Wolff was actually teasing her. “That’s just mean,” she said, her lips twisting in a wry grin.

  “C’mon,” he said abruptly. “Let’s see if you know how to swim.”

  Fortunately for Gracie’s peace of mind, Gareth dove in without ceremony and began doing laps. She walked around to the shallow end, preparing to shed her cover-up. When she thought Gareth wasn’t watching, she took it off. The haute couture bikini in lime-green and saffron was as tiny as it was undoubtedly expensive.

  She felt painfully exposed.

  Six

  Gareth almost swallowed his tongue when he got a first glance at Gracie in the next-to-nothing swimsuit Annalise had picked out. Gracie was slim, but sweetly curved in all the right places. Her pale, creamy skin befitted a natural redhead. Trying to disguise his avid interest, he watched her slip carefully into the pool.

  She took a few steps before tentatively launching out in a creditable backstroke. Apparently he wouldn’t have to play lifeguard. Too bad.

  Her long legs kicked lazily. Her pert breasts rose above the water as she moved. Already, he was painfully hard, his erection taunting him with the knowledge that he’d not had a woman in his bed in recent memory.

  Now Gracie was here…available…and he wanted her desperately, but could he trust the woman whose past was obscured?

  After twenty minutes of punishing laps, he permitted himself to approach her. At arm’s length, he took note of the way the shiny fabric clung to her like a second skin. The room was plenty warm, but Gracie’s nipples thrust against the triangles of her bikini top.

  He tried not to stare. “Would you like to try out the waterfall?” The hoarseness in his voice could be attributed to exertion.

  She licked her lips, her eyes big. “Of course.”

  He took her hand, feeling her start of surprise. They moved against the water, walking deeper and deeper into the pool. When Gracie’s feet left the bottom, she protested.

  “It’s too deep. I can’t touch.”

  He put his hands on her narrow waist, imagining those fabulous legs winding around him. “Get on my back,” he said.

  They eyed each other from a distance of eighteen inches. He could see her chest rise and fall with each breath…could count the water droplets clinging to her eyelashes.

  Slowly, clenching his hand tightly, she moved around until she could rest her hands on his shoulders.

  “You can put your legs around me,” he said.

  “This is fine.”

  Her prim response made him grin.

  “Hang on.” He forged into deeper water until the waterfall was directly in front of them. The formation looked amazingly natural. The pool architect had constructed a pile of rocks that was home to colorful orchids and tiny, jewel-toned parakeets.

  Gareth pulled Gracie around to stand beside him on the step hidden beneath the water. “You okay on your own now?”

  She found her footing and nodded, her face turned up to the spray. “Never better.”

  Her delighted laughter as the cascading water drenched both of them tightened something in his gut. He wanted to take her here…in this wild setting. The hunger was fierce and relentless. He had to look away from her radiant face to catch his breath.

  No matter how much he tried to remind himself that he’d been a fool for a woman once before, he couldn’t shake the notion that Gracie was his. Even without her memory, there was a sweetness about her…a strength and a zest for life. She had shown remarkable courage in a difficult situation.

  He moved them just out of the main torrent and touched her hand. “It’s not my habit to ask, but you’ve had a rough two days.”

  Her smile faded to confusion. “Ask what?”

  “May I kiss you?”

  The shock on her face was unmistakable. But moments later, he saw the dawn of something else. Interest. Arousal. Caution.

  He understood the caution. Hell, this was probably the stupidest idea he’d had in a while. But he couldn’t help himself. “Gracie?”

  A long, pregnant pause ensued. Just when he thought she was going to shut him down, she lifted her arms. “Okay.”

  He knew there was a good chance she was experimenting with him, hoping something might jog her memory. According to her father, she had no husband or boyfriend. But even still…

  When their lips touched, her arms linked behind his neck, all rational thought evaporating in the cloud of steam that engulfed them. The pool at this end was heated by underwater jets, more like a hot tub in temperature. But Gareth was pretty sure he and Gracie would have generated steam even in an ice bath.

  Her mouth was hesitant beneath his, her lips soft and curious. He tried to be gentle. He really did. But the taste of her intoxicated him. Their bodies melded, skin to skin. His tongue slid between her teeth, probing gently, dueling with hers.

  She wasn’t exactly embracing him. Her hands rested on his shoulders as if she wasn’t sure if she would pull him closer or push him away. He kissed her firmly, without apology. He had asked. She had answered. He had nothing to feel guilty about. But he did.

  Gracie Darlington didn’t know anything about her past. And Gareth didn’t know anything about her.

  Heaving a deep breath, acknowledging the tremor in his own limbs, he broke the connection and stepped back as much as the step beneath his feet would allow.

  Gracie stared at him glassy-eyed. “Wow.”

  His broken chuckle surprised even him. “Yeah.”

  “I think I’m in over my head,” she said softly. “Not such a good swimmer, after all.”

  “Can you make it to the side of the pool?”

  “You think you made me weak in the knees?” Her teasing smile relaxed a bit of the tension in his gut. “Braggart.”

  He shifted restlessly. “I’m going to do some more laps. Can you find your way back through the house?”

  She nodded slowly, her gaze locked on his. “Thanks for the swim.”

  Gracie climbed out of the pool, aware that Gareth’s gaze tracked her every motion. Though he moved through the water with the ease and speed of an Olympic swimmer, she knew he had his eyes on her.

  She toweled off and then shrugged into the cover-up, glad to use it as armor. With one last wistful glance at the man in the pool, she wandered back to her bedroom, taking note of the decor and design of the house along the way. Every inch of Gareth’s home was stunningly beautiful. Yet he lived here all alone, like a wounded beast hiding from the world.

  After a quick shower, she dried her hair and surveyed her new clothing. Annalise had been kind enough to include basic makeup, so Gracie brushed on some eye shadow, darkened her lashes with mascara and covered her lips in pink gloss.

  Feeling a bit too much like Cinderella, she picked out a cherry-red sundress with white appliquéd flowers at the hem and slipped it on. The woman in the mirror looked relaxed and happy…as long as no one looked too closely at the lost expression
in her eyes.

  Gracie gnawed her lip with indecision. What exactly was she supposed to do with herself for the next few hours? Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to browse through Gareth’s extensive collection of books and DVDs. Who knew what small detail might tug at a memory?

  But when she made her way back to the enormous den/living room, the low table in front of the entertainment center had been set with china and silver and an assortment of mouthwatering dishes.

  Gareth stood by the fireplace, staring into the flames. He had changed as well. His dark slacks and cream Irish fisherman’s sweater suited his wild masculinity.

  She paused on the threshold. “Something smells wonderful.”

  As he crossed the room to stand beside her, she realized that her words had a dual meaning. Gareth smelled like the crisp, clean fragrance of his shower soap, a combination of lime and fresh evergreen. Though he was covered from neck to toe, she had a vivid memory of what that large, hard body looked like.

  Perhaps he would attribute her flushed cheeks to the warmth from the fire.

  He held out a hand. “Will you eat with me?”

  She was flustered to realize that he meant for them to sit on the floor. That seemed altogether too intimate. Hesitating only a moment, she slipped out of her crimson sandals and situated herself on a comfy, velvet-covered pillow. Gareth joined her at the opposite corner of the table.

  They ate in silence for several minutes. Beef tenderloin…asparagus with hollandaise sauce and fluffy mashed potatoes.

  Gracie sighed, swallowing a bite of heaven on a fork. “My potatoes never turn out this well.” She froze, fork in the air. “I remember,” she said, her heart thumping. “My kitchen is yellow and white. I think I’m a decent cook.”

  Gareth had quit eating as well, his gaze intense. “What else?” he asked. “Take your time. Don’t stress.”

  She closed her eyes, reaching with all her might for what was just on the other side of a frustrating curtain. Bit by bit a scene materialized in her head. “I was standing beside the stove, laughing. Another woman was there.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  Try as she might, the face wouldn’t come into focus. She put down her fork, the food a hard knot in her stomach. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why won’t it come back?”

  “The brain’s a funny thing,” Gareth said, his matter-of-fact tone soothing her nerves. “It will come when it comes.”

  “I’ve wondered about hypnosis,” she said, doodling her fork in burgundy sauce. “I need to do something.”

  Gareth snorted. “I hardly think hypnosis qualifies as something…unless of course you’re hoping to find out that you were a Persian princess in a past life.”

  “You’re so open-minded,” she mocked. “How do you know it wouldn’t work? Maybe I should talk to Jacob about it.”

  “If Jacob thought hypnosis would solve your problem, I assure you he’d have already mentioned it. My brother is brilliant when it comes to the human body. I told you to quit worrying about it.” He uncovered the last dish. “Eat some cherry pie. Pie helps everything.”

  “Says the man who probably never gains an ounce.”

  His gaze lashed her with heat. “You’re perfect,” he said bluntly. “Eat the damned pie.”

  She chewed and swallowed, barely tasting the scrumptious dessert. Gareth exhibited all the signs of a man in the throes of sexual frustration. And she was right there with him. The temperature in the room was rising ten degrees at a time…

  He shoved back from their makeshift table and stretched out his legs, ankles crossed, hands behind his head. “I have an idea,” he said. “I need to make a quick trip to D.C. in a couple of days. You could come with me.”

  “Why?” She frowned.

  “I’m not going to leave you here unattended.”

  “You still don’t trust me.”

  He shrugged. “I trust what I know of you. But that’s not much, is it?”

  “Why are you going to D.C.?”

  “Some hotshot senator purchased an enormous gun cabinet from me. He wants to show off his new chest—and the creator—at a fancy-ass party in Georgetown.”

  “I’m shocked that you would agree.”

  “I didn’t want to do it, so I told him that a personal appearance would mean another hundred grand for my charity. I never dreamed he would take me up on it.”

  She laughed out loud at the look of chagrin on his face. “Poor Gareth. It must seem like a fate worse than death.”

  “It would be a hell of a lot more enjoyable if you go with me.”

  “So I’m just a warm body to keep you from getting bored?”

  The deliberate flirting was a skill that surprised her.

  Gareth’s eyes narrowed, reading the underlying message. “Be careful, Gracie. Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

  A huge yawn caught her off guard. “Sorry,” she said, blushing.

  He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Say good-night, Gracie.”

  She tilted her head, studying his face. “That’s funny. I think my father used to say that to me.”

  He brushed a kiss across her cheek, fleeting, tantalizing. “Get some rest. We’ll talk about the trip in the morning.”

  She put a hand to his cheek. “Are you afraid of me?” she whispered teasingly, deliberately moving closer so their bodies touched.

  His head bent and he covered her mouth with his. The kiss shook her to the bone. It mixed raw carnality and seeking hunger with a tenderness that took the starch out of her knees. Everywhere she was soft, he was hard. But it was over almost before it began.

  Disappointment flooded her chest as she let him scoot her down the hall. “I could help with the dishes.”

  “Go to bed. And stay there.”

  She had the distinct impression that he was trying to keep the two of them from doing something ill-advised. Her common sense lauded his fortitude, but deep inside, she wouldn’t have minded if he had dragged her down to the lavish carpeting and had his way with her.

  Her beautiful bedroom was beginning to feel like a prison. She changed into a silky negligee that felt naughty against her bare skin, and brushed her teeth. Jacob had said it was okay to take a pill before bedtime, so she filled a tumbler with water and washed one down. The medication worked its magic, and she fell into a deep, exhausted slumber.

  Seven

  Gareth awoke at the first scream. By the second, he was down the hall and into her room. She had left a light on in the bathroom, so he was immediately able to see, even in the dimly illumined bedroom, that Gracie was tangled in the covers, writhing as if she were fighting something or someone.

  He sat down beside her, tugging back the blankets.

  Before he could do more than that, she cried out, “No!”

  The sheer terror in that one syllable made the hair stand up on his arms. She was sobbing, struggling with him as he tried to wake her. “You’re okay, Gracie. Wake up. You’re okay.”

  He repeated it over and over, his voice low but firm as he coaxed her out of her deep, tormented sleep. Finally, thank God, she took a shuddering breath and opened her eyes. Her pupils were dilated, and her entire body shook with tremors. When he was sure she was aware of her surroundings, he gathered her into his arms, warming her with his body heat.

  “Shh,” he said softly. “Everything’s all right. It was a dream.” He stroked her hair, twining a finger in a curl and rubbing the base of her skull. “Nothing can hurt you.”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. Only then did he realize what she was wearing. The feel of silk beneath his hand made his mouth go dry. Damn Annalise. His romantically minded cousin had tried to coax him out of his cave on many occasions—in the old days throwing her sorority sisters at him and more recently her coworkers.

  He didn’t need a woman to be happy. Sex…well, that was another story. But a man could take matters into his own hands if need be. Until Gareth found
a woman he could trust, he wasn’t interested in female companionship.

  Liar. His libido jumped into the conversation, pointing out how soft Gracie was, how the smell of her hair made Gareth hard, even without her barely covered breasts mashed up against him. She had thrust herself into his life without compunction. He ought to be angry as hell. By all rights, he should send her packing.

  But he wanted to keep her…just for a little while. She made his big house seem more like a home. Light and life shadowed her every step. And if she had any nefarious purpose in coming to Wolff Mountain, he’d yet to see any sign of it.

  Finally she eased back, shoving the hair from her face with an unsteady hand. “Turn on the lamp,” she pleaded, the words husky and quiet.

  He did as she asked, relieved that the low-wattage bulb cast little more than a rosy circle of light. “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked, still holding her with one arm.

  Her lower lip trembled until she bit down on it and took a deep breath. “I was running in the dark. Something was after me. I knew if I could find my way home, I’d be safe. But every time I opened a door, nothing was there.”

  He pulled her closer again, his chin on her head, his fingers twined with hers. “I don’t think we have to look too far to figure that one out. You’re trying so damn hard, Gracie. You know it doesn’t happen by sheer force of will. God knows if it did, you would already remember. I’ve never seen anyone so determined to make something happen. But Jacob said it may come in bits and pieces so gradually it will slip up on you. Or some little thing may trigger a release that gives it back to you all at once. You can’t do this to yourself.”

  “I’m so scared that you’ll hate me when I find out why I came.” The words tumbled out—bald, unadorned—her expression similarly stark.

  Gareth acknowledged the truth of her statement in his brain, but his body shied away from the unpalatable possibility that Gracie was as sleazy a person as her father. She couldn’t be. Not when she felt so damned perfect in his embrace. “You’ll be going home in a few days. Until then, you need to focus on something else.” And in the meantime he wouldn’t tell her that investigators were even now checking out the truth about Edward Darlington.