Midnight Fantasies(4)

By: Vicki Lewis Thompson


Her breath caught. He was coming on to her. Maybe once he’d decided she was a stranger, he’d stopped looking for clues that would have told him she was his old pal B.J.

Obviously she could do almost anything she wanted and he wouldn’t guess now. So she needed to decide how far to take this little charade. Truth or dare? Dare. “My hands are strong from molding the clay,” she said. “I love how it feels when I work it, so moist…so…pliable. I find the process very stimulating.”

“I’ll bet you do.” He cradled her hand in both of his and began a gentle massage. “I’d love to watch you work with that clay sometime.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I need my space when I create.” The devil had got hold of her tongue. “And in this heat, I’ve been known to work without any clothes on.”

“You shouldn’t have told me that,” he murmured, bringing her hand to his lips. “Now I really want to watch you work. Watch you get…stimulated.” He brushed her knuckles with a gentle kiss.

She nearly passed out from the pleasure of it. Years ago, she used to imagine scenes like this with Jonas, and then she’d given up all hope that they’d ever get past their brother/sister relationship. Yet here he was, pressing his mouth to the back of her hand. Of course, he thought it was the hand of a sculptor named Sarah, a woman who molded clay into nudes while she waltzed around her studio in her birthday suit feeling sexy.

“Maybe I could make an exception and let you watch,” she said. “Although I have a feeling you would distract me.”

“I’d be very quiet.” He opened her palm and circled his tongue there.

She tried to steady her breathing. A woman of the world wouldn’t fall apart because a man was kissing her hand. “What’s…what’s your name?” she asked.

“Jonas.” His breath whispered over the inside of her wrist. “You smell like rain,” he said, just before he placed his warm mouth against her pulse.

“Jonas.” She murmured his name, rolling it over her tongue as if she’d never heard it before, as if she’d never yelled it across the yard or muttered it under her breath in total frustration. “Do you believe in Fate, Jonas?”

“Maybe.” He cupped her elbow and lazily made his way from her wrist to the inside of her elbow. “Do you?”

“Maybe.” Her heart thundered in her ears. Surely the more he touched her, the better his chance of figuring out who was in this cave with him. But until he did figure it out, she might as well enjoy the fantasy. Chances like this didn’t come along every day.

“I sure never expected to find someone like you here today.” He caressed the tender inside of her elbow with slow strokes of his finger.

“Someone like me?” The breathy laugh didn’t sound like her. It sounded like a daring woman who created nudes for a living. “You know almost nothing about me.”

“I know more than you think.” He shifted his weight, bending one knee so he could turn toward her on the ledge. “I know you’re very creative. I know you spend your days exploring the wonders of the human body, and as a sculptor, you’d have to be very sensitive.”

“I am.”

“I knew it. I could tell from the way you shivered when I kissed the inside of your arm.” His hand brushed her cheek in a seeking gesture. Then he caressed the line of her jaw. “And while it’s true I can’t see you very well, all my other senses are wide-awake. I know you have smooth, soft skin, that you smell like rain, that your voice is low and makes me think of sex.”

She swallowed and tried to keep her voice steady. “Really?” He definitely didn’t know who she was. Jonas had never, ever thought of sex when she was around.

“You shouldn’t be surprised.” He brought his other hand up and combed it through her hair. “You’re obviously a very sensual woman, a woman who likes to let her hair down. You have beautiful hair. What color is it?”

She thought quickly. No use giving him any clues by telling him the right hair color. Once he started thinking of her as a blonde, he might put two and two together. “Chocolate-brown,” she said.

“Perfect. I love chocolate.” He drew a section over her shoulder and combed it down over her breast, although he seemed to take care not to touch her there…yet. “And your eyes?”

“Jade-green.” She’d always wished they were, at any rate. Keely had green eyes, but B.J. had ended up with blue.

“Jade-green.” He ran his thumb gently over her lower lip. “Most women would say they had brown hair and green eyes, but you added the chocolate and the jade part. I have a feeling you’re a very unusual woman, Sarah. I’d like to get to know you better.”