Jared took Sara to ‘Mastro's City Hall Steakhouse Restaurant’, where he ordered her, one of the most expensive meals she’d ever eaten. The starter was a Caesar salad with cool ranch dressing followed by the main course; jumbo lobster tail and creamed spinach, with crepe suzette for dessert, and a bottle of Veuve Clicqout Champagne. Sara drank two glasses; Jared didn’t have any. The two she had were enough for her. It went straight to her head; at least it dulled her headache.
He was enjoying her like this.
~ ~ ~
By the time they got home, she was pretty spaced out, and as before, extremely aroused. He parked the car. “Now, stay where you are until I get around there. I’m not sure you can walk straight.”
“I’m fine, Jared.” Sara opened the door and stood up. Where did the twister come from, everything was spinning. Her legs gave way, and she went down, scraping her knees on the gravel drive. “Ouch!” Despite the pain, she giggled. Everything seemed funny. She couldn’t stop laughing.
He supported her. “Honey, are you OK?”
She smiled seductively. “I’m all right,” she giggled. “I’ve got a little boo boo.” Jared’s lips were almost touching hers. She wanted him to kiss her. Every fiber of her being wanted him. She leaned closer and kissed him. Jared responded, leaving them breathless.
“Lemme see your hands,” he frowned.
Sara kissed him again. “I don’t want you to see my hands.”
He laughed. “Oh, you don’t – do you?” He examined her hands. “Come on, let’s get inside and lemme clean you up.” He lifted her to her feet. Bad idea, her knees buckled again. Jared carried her inside and deposited her on the sofa. He came back with a first aid kit and cleaned her hands and knees.
“Jared, I love you,” she smiled.
He finished cleaning her hands and kissed them; he kissed her lips. “Looks as though we’ve come full circle.”
She kissed him thoroughly. “Yes. We met because of one of my little accidents.”
“Which is one of the reasons I became a doctor, so I could take care of your little accidents,” he chuckled.
“Gyu’re zo sveet, um, I meant so… sweet,” she laughed.
He chuckled again, scooped her into his arms and kissed her. “And you, my little darlin’, are drunk. I’m putting you to bed before you pass out down here, and I have to carry you upstairs anyway.”
------------
Sara woke around midnight and couldn’t go back to sleep. She slipped on a silk robe and stood in front of the window. The breeze was pleasant, with a bit of a chill in it. She looked up at the night sky. Far off, across the desert, lightning flashed. Thunder rumbled in the distance. She watched it for a while; it was getting closer.
Partly dehydrated from the alcohol, she was thirsty. Assuming everyone else was in bed, she quietly crept downstairs. She filled a glass with water from the faucet and watched the lightning while she finished her drink. She rinsed the glass out and turned it upside down on the drain rack.
Sara decided to go outside for a better look at the storm. She opened the door. It wasn’t locked. Why should it be? Mice and scarabs were the only thieves out there. The mice were only interested in dried seeds, and the scarabs were interested in things she didn’t want to think about, especially after what happened with George Thundercloud’s book. She shivered and pushed the thought aside.
She walked out into the backyard. The grass was slightly damp from the dew. It tickled between her toes. A gust of wind from the approaching storm blew open the front of her robe. Despite the warm air, it gave her a slight chill. She wrapped her arms around her body and shivered again, but she was determined to tough it out. She wanted to see what the sky looked like from the ground.
The storm definitely was getting closer. The huge thunderhead discharged lightning bolts in evil branches across the sky, answered by a heavy rumble of thunder, which shook the ground. From the sound of it, Sara figured she could get wet, so she didn’t wander far from the house.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The air was exhilarating. She could feel the electricity as it flowed through the air from the discharged lightning flashes. It reminded her of the spiraling ink from George Thundercloud’s book, and the frightening dream she had at David Whitefeather’s office.
Though alone, to Sara, it felt as if the desert had a thousand eyes, all staring at her. An eerie feeling crept up her spine. Hands grabbed her shoulders.
“What are you doing out here… dressed like this?” His hot breath whispered in her ear; she inhaled sharply.
Sara spun to face a wall of solid bronze muscle and a pair of glowing crimson eyes. He wrapped his arms around her. “Jared!” she gasped, caught off guard. She took a breath. “I wish you wouldn’t do that! At least warn me. Seeing a pair of crimson eyes in the dark, towering above you is unnerving! I didn’t hear you cross the deck. The boards creaked when I walked over them!”
He laughed, a soft, seductive sound. Her insides shivered. “It might not have been me, Sara.”
She caressed his face. “Who else would it have been?”
“We’re not spared the influences of the outside world. Joel knows where we are.”
“That might be true, but I know I’m safe whenever you’re around.”
“You’re shivering,” he frowned and held her tighter.
“The wind didn’t make me shiver.”
He smiled and kissed the end of her nose. “Really? That’s interesting.”
“How did you know I was out here? I didn’t think anyone was up. I tried not to make any noise, but I was thirsty.”
Jared turned her and pointed up. “Oh!” Their bedroom windows were almost side by side. “What are you doing up?”
“Reading. I put my book down to watch the lightning for a while. It reflected off your metal hair clasp.” He slowly removed it; her hair spilled down over her shoulders. Her threaded his fingers through it at the base of her neck and fluffed it out, smoothing it with electrifying strokes. “You’re beautiful, but you’re more beautiful with your hair down.” Sara closed her eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. “I like it this way.”
She opened her eyes, and he was staring at her, his eyes two balls of fire. He rubbed his cheek against hers. “Ayóó'ánííníshní,” he whispered in her ear.
Sara swayed. Jared supported her. “How do you do this to me?” she breathed as he kissed along the sides of her neck and down to her bare shoulders.
He grinned slightly. “Do what?” he said, sounding innocent.
“Make me forget how to breathe.”
“I guess I better do something about it,” he said and kissed her. Sara’s legs wilted. If he hadn’t been holding her up, she would’ve collapsed. “You’re awfully weak in your legs, Sara.” He smiled, pretending he didn’t know why. Sara hadn’t bought it. He knew precisely what he was doing to her, and he loved it. He loved it when she stumbled on her words and gasped for breath.
Jared pressed the full length of his body against hers. Sara immediately became aware there was nothing but her silk nightgown, and his cotton pajama bottoms between them. She wasn’t the only one aroused. He groaned and deepened the kiss, his need as strong as hers. He trembled slightly, holding back, afraid to let go, struggling for control.
Things were getting out of hand, and Sara wasn’t helping. After what had happened at Wisteria Hall, she was determined not to. She was ready to give in to her feelings, but he wasn’t. He moved his lips away from hers and took a deep breath. “God, Sara, you’re pushing me,” he said, in a shallow raspy voice. “Eventually you’re gonna make me snap and when I do,” he broke off.
Sara turned him. He kept his eyes closed, his face a mask of pain and control. She kissed him again. “Is that a threat or a promise?” she asked, her voice a seductive whisper.
“A promise,” he said, crushed his lips to hers and scooped her up into his arms. He sat on the deck and held her on his lap, kissing her and leisurely exploring her body. Sara’s heart pounded; she forgot how to breathe. Jared was losing it too. “Sara, we have to stop now!” He pulled away. “I won’t do this. I won’t risk having a baby with you.”
Her eyes widened. “Why? Because you’re afraid his or her eyes might glow like yours or they’ll be able to outrun the other children? I don’t care if you start baying at the moon. Ayóó'ánííníshní,” Sara said, her Navajo as fluent as his. “I want you, Jared, and I know you want me.” She turned his face to hers. “I can see it in your eyes. I can feel your body against mine. Why do you keep fighting me off? It’s what we both want, isn’t it?”
He kissed her, and as before, pulled away. Sara forced her breath out.
“It’s not only about wanting and needing you, Sara. Consequences prevent me from doing what you want me to do, what I want to do. No matter how much I want you, I won’t risk losing you. It’s not gonna do any good for you to keep testing my willpower. I’m stronger than you could ever imagine.” His eyes might’ve appeared as hot as a burning flame, but they were cold as ice, determined.
Sara blinked. Jared thought she’d got up, in the middle of the night, to take a stroll in her nightgown. Conveniently stood in a position which happened to be under his bedroom window. Lured him out there, so she could seduce him and test his iron willpower! Sara didn’t even know it was his bedroom. He was acting as though all the times they’d been tempted to go all the way, it had been her fault. He thought she’d been teasing him and luring him.
She turned away so he couldn’t see the hurt and anger brewing behind her eyes. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. She ignored the wind when it made them feel like frost on her face. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry, Jared,” she snorted. “Silly me. I didn’t realize… this was my fault.”
He reached for her. She tucked her chin and moved away. “I honestly didn’t come out here for you to follow me, so I could throw myself at you, again! I came to watch the storm.” She paused and swallowed again. “For a while, for a brief while, I felt as if I were standing in the clouds. Now the storm has passed. You’re right. It’s my fault entirely. Now, I’m going to my room like a good little girl, Jared. Thanks for the mauling,” she snarled.
He narrowed his eyes and stepped closer. “That’s not what it is, Sara, you know that!”
“Yeah? Well, that’s how it feels!” She wouldn’t look at him; it would make walking away harder. She didn’t want to turn away from him, but he’d given her no choice. He’d made his choice. He didn’t want her. She left him standing there watching her leave. She knew he was watching her. She could feel his eyes on her back, glowing red with what, love, lust? Did it matter?
Fighting tears, Sara covered her mouth and ran straight to her bedroom, locking the door behind her. She buried her face in the pillow and cried until her eyes were red and dry. Maybe she was pushing him too hard. Maybe she needed to back off. Maybe it was truly what he wanted, and he was afraid of hurting her. Sara didn’t know how much more of this mood ride she could handle. Somehow, she’d find the courage and strength to let him go.