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The silvery glow sparkled on the droplets of moisture still running down his skin, making them resemble the melting wax of a pure white candle.
I don't know how long we stood there, him bathing in the light, me watching him do it, but eventually he lowered his head, then began to slog through the knee-deep water toward the shore, and he saw me. Now that the moon was up, the entire clearing was awash with silver.
I could do nothing but stare into his dark, endless eyes as he crossed the sand, climbed the incline, and kissed me.
I shouldn't have been surprised. What did I expect when he'd caught me peeping at him while he was. . . bathing? Swimming? Performing some pagan ritual beneath the moon?
Whatever he'd been doing, I shouldn't have been watching, but once I'd seen him I hadn't been able to stop.
His lips were cool. Moist and sweet, they captured mine. Droplets of water fell from his body, pattering around us, as if we kissed beneath a springtime rain.
He plucked the pins from my hair and filled his hands with the length, his fingers tightening on my scalp as he tilted my head so he could delve more deeply within. My heart skittered a bit at being held captive, but there was also arousal, a sensation so barren in my life, I couldn't pull away, seduced by the possibilities it presented.
His tongue met mine with a force and a boldness that increased both the arousal and the fear. I tamped down on the latter, focused on the former, learning the contours of his mouth with my own.
He nipped my lip, both pleasure and pain, and I gasped, the sound stark against the gentle lap of the waves. His hands moved from my head to my shoulders, before sliding down my back as he crushed me against him.
Water dampened my top, the chill causing my nipples to peak. The lake was fed by an underground spring that ran down the mountain. Even at the height of summer the water was just above icy, which meant most tourists liked to look at the place but not touch. Cartwright obviously had no problem with the temperature of the water, if the erection pressing against me was any indication.
His mouth trailed down my jaw, my collarbone; then his teeth tugged at the neck of my top. One hand slid over my waist, then upward, cupping my breast, a thumb scraping over the nipple before he did some fancy twist, baring me to the night and his tongue.
I panicked, shoving at his chest, kicking at his shins. I couldn't seem to get the word "no" past the alarm closing my throat. Not that "no" had done me any good in the past.
He released me instantly, and I fell, sitting down hard in the sand. Scraped by his beard, my chin burned. My eyes teared, both embarrassment and dread combined. The night brushed my skin, turning the moisture left by his mouth to ice. I glanced down; my breast still hung out, the moonlight causing my pale skin to glow almost translucent.
I yanked my top back in place, then hugged myself tightly and prayed I wouldn't cry.
"I - I'm sorry," I managed, even though my therapist had stressed I had nothing to apologize for in a situation like this.
Cartwright stared toward the lake, and the moon glistened off his body, turning the bronze skin silver. He seemed carved in alabaster, a beautiful pagan god abandoned by the shore. Although I doubted any statue would be carved with an erection of that size.
He didn't make any move to cover himself, but I hadn't seen any clothes nearby, not even a towel. I suppose he'd thought himself alone, protected from trespassers by a contract clause and common decency.
"Why did you come here if not for this?"
I winced at the harsh, angry tone. "I didn't. I - "
"What?" He whirled toward me, and I cringed, hating myself for it but unable to stop.
He froze at my movement, then lowered the hand he'd raised in agitation. "I wouldn't hurt you, Claire. "
It was the first time he'd said my name. Too bad I couldn't enjoy the way the word rolled off his tongue. Couldn't sit here and dream about the way his tongue had rolled over mine, because the fear I'd fought for so long was back, and I didn't know how to make it go away.
I got to my feet. I had to get out of here.
"Wait. " He took a step forward.
I couldn't help it. I ran blindly, mindlessly, for the cover of the trees. Before I even got close, he caught me, grabbing my arm and spinning me around.
My momentum made me stumble, my palms coming to rest against his chest, so soft, so smooth, so hot. I jerked them back as if scalded.
His fingers tightened, his gaze lowering to my mouth. My breath caught, afraid he'd kiss me again, afraid that he wouldn't.
"Don't," I said.
"Don't what?" he murmured. "Don't kiss you? Or don't even dare to touch you? I suppose you're too high-class to consort with the likes of me. The mayor and the Gypsy horse trainer. Your family would be none too happy about that. "
"I don't have any family," I whispered, then wished I hadn't. He could rape me, kill me, then toss me in the lake. There'd be no one to care.
