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“Go for it,” Darcy encouraged. She watched him cross the terrace in an easy lope and when he turned back into the breeze, the kite bounced upward. “That’s it, just let out the string.”
Griffin fumbled with the reel, then caught it and laughed when the kite rose steadily into the air. The wind whipped the dragon’s long tail and serrated wings, pushing it higher. “Wow, it looks like a real dragon, doesn’t it?” he shouted.
“It sure does. Now just move back a little and keep letting out more string.” She raised her hand to shade her eyes, then walked across the terrace to where she could observe Griffin as well as the brightly colored kite.
She remembered the kids who had played in the high school band as being rather nerdy. Not that she’d been Miss Popularity, but at lea
st she hadn’t always had her nose in a book. With Griffin’s looks, no one would have ever called him a nerd, but it saddened her to think he must have missed out on a lot of the fun of growing up.
“Is this all there is to it?” he asked.
“Not really. The wind can shift and send a kite right into the ground, or into a tree. The power lines are buried underground up here, but usually they pose a threat too. Then, if there are others flying kites, your string can become tangled in theirs and send both kites plunging to earth.
“Depending on the wind conditions, flying a kite can be frustrating, or like today, just plain fun. Let it go up as high as you’d like, but remember you’ll have to rewind all the string when you bring it down.”
“I’ll keep it in mind. Why don’t you come here and try it?”
Here we go, Darcy thought, but the prospect of having him wrapped around her wasn’t all that unappealing. She moved to his side and gradually took control of the string. To her infinite dismay, however, he stepped back out of her way.
“Now, tell me why you need a studio,” she prompted, as much to distract herself as to discover his intentions.
Griffin moved up behind her and began to rub her shoulders. “You look rather stiff. Does this feel good?”
His touch was light but sure and incredibly soothing. “Christy Joy said you’d have great hands.”
“Did she?” Griffin chuckled.
Darcy hadn’t meant to pay the compliment out loud. “Please don’t tell her I said that.”
“I’m going to be tempted, but maybe we can work out something.”
“Do you expect a bribe?” Darcy felt a strong tug on the string and released a bit more. The kite was way out over the bluff now and dancing against the sun.
Griffin leaned down and nibbled her right ear. “Stay for dinner. I bought a roasted chicken. You eat those, don’t you?”
Darcy felt his breath on her cheek and couldn’t recall his question. “Chicken?” she mumbled numbly.
Griffin kissed her left ear lightly. “Yes, do you like them?”
He was wrapped around her now, and as snugly as she had imagined—no, hoped. She relaxed against him, and he began to trace teasing circles around the tip of her left breast with his right hand, while his left crept slowly down her stomach toward the sweet spot between her legs. His hips were pressed against her back, and there was no mistaking the intensity of his desire.
“This is what you had in mind all along, isn’t it?” she nearly moaned.
“Do you blame me?”
Darcy dipped her head. She supposed this was simply his usual routine. He would be in town for a few days to give a concert, and if he wanted to connect with a woman, he would waste no time in going about it. Even better than a sailor with a girl in every port, she bet he had women all around the world eagerly awaiting his return.
“Darcy? What was his name?”
Startled, Darcy turned to look up at him. “Whose name?”
“The man who broke your heart.”
Enfolded in his embrace, Darcy could not recall any of the other men she’d known. “Griffin Moore,” she breathed out softly.
Fierce Love
Phoebe Conn
