Once in a Lifetime (12 page)

“Let’s knock off,” he said to his foreman.

“But, Telford, the men want to work. Most of them need the money.”

“Do they need the hospital bills? I said call it off. If they want to work tomorrow morning and you’re willing to come, the hours will be six to one, but no longer. You understand. I’d rather they didn’t work on Sundays, but they missed two days this week due to rain, and that’s a big hole in their take-home pay.”

“I’ll be here.”

He walked into the house pulling off his shirt, remembered Alexis and Tara and attempted to put the shirt back on, but the sweat-dampened garment stuck to his flesh and, in a flash of annoyance, he hooked his thumb in the collar, draped the shirt over his shoulder and ran up the stairs.
A young, attractive woman in a man’s house should be his mother, his sister, his wife or his S.O.
He threw his shirt into the hamper and did his best to curtail his annoyance. Failing at that, he took his violin out of its case, sat on the edge of his bed and began to play. Making music with his violin was one act that never failed to give him peace. He forgot the heat, his hunger and his earlier displeasure as “Lovely Night” from Offenbach’s
Tales of Hoffman
caressed his ears.

“What on earth brought this on?”

The sound of the human voice dragged him out of this reverie, out of his peace. He looked up from the strings he loved and focused on Russ. His brothers had always treated as sacred the times when he played the violin and didn’t interrupt him.

“Uh…what’s up?”

“I thought you’d help me open the pool. I need a swim. It’s hot.”

He put the violin back in its case, taking his time doing it, and looked at his brother. “I know we usually have the pool open by now, but I don’t want to have to fish Tara out of it.”

“But, man, are you saying we don’t open it? What the hell? Somebody can watch her.”

“Yeah, right. Every one of her waking minutes? Tell
me, how’d you like to walk out there and find her floating facedown, huh?”

“What do you think I am? If this isn’t proof you should have hired somebody else as housekeeper, I don’t know what is. Ninety-seven degrees, and I can’t get in the water. Teach her to swim.”

“And let her go near that pool herself? Come on, Russ.”

“Look, I don’t want anything to happen to her, but, man, this is a royal pain.”

“We can put a fence around the pool,” Drake offered as a compromise when they discussed it later that afternoon.

“That’ll look like hell. Whoever saw a fenced-in swimming pool?” Russ said, his voice little more than a sneer.

“Shall we vote on it?” Telford asked them.

Russ shrugged. “What’s the point? You always agree. All right, one of you come with me and get the fencing. I want to swim.”

Drake stared at him. “You mean you’re going out there in that heat and put down a fence?”

“Damn straight, and the two of you are going to help me.”

“We disagree rather frequently these days,” Telford said, more to himself than to his brothers.

“Yeah,” Russ said. “And I wonder what…or who…is at the root of it.”

“Ah, come off it, Russ. Alexis is good for this place. I don’t enjoy behaving around here as if my third-grade teacher were hovering over my shoulder, but I like the changes Alexis has made, and by damn, I like having a woman in the house.”

“Of course you do,” Russ told Drake. “It’s a wonder you don’t have ’em jammed wall-to-wall in this place. Come on, let’s go get that fencing. The sooner we finish, the sooner I get a good swim.”

Telford didn’t like the contention simmering beneath the surface and emanating primarily from Russ. Until he hired Alexis, he and his brothers spoke with a single voice, seemingly always able to see each other’s point of view. On the rare
occasions that they disagreed professionally, personal feelings didn’t enter into their exchanges; each respected the others’ competence in their fields of expertise. But their differences about conditions in their home displeased and worried him. Yet, sending Alexis and Tara away was unthinkable.

Drake patted his pockets for his keys. “Let’s get the fencing from the load we shipped in for the warehouse. We can replace it later. Takes less time than going into town for it.”

“Right, and we can get the tools while we’re there. Be down in a minute,” Telford said and headed up to his room to change into shorts and a T-shirt.

Russ picked up the towel, wiped the sweat from his neck and anchored the last post. “Do I love the sound of that water filling this pool! Hook the fence here, Drake.” In the act of pulling off his shirt, he stopped and glared at Telford.

“You wouldn’t have a pair of bathing trunks I could use?”

Drake checked the latch on the gate and began clearing the area of the tools they used. Then, as if impelled by some superior force, he took a deep breath and looked across the garden away from Russ. “Wear your underwear.”

Telford dropped to the lawn, rested his elbows on his knees and howled with laughter.

With the towel draped around his shoulders to absorb the perspiration, Russ glared at him. He didn’t mind being the butt of their jokes; he was used to that. But they ought to know not to fool with him when he was mad. And after three hours in the hot sun pounding those posts into the ground, he was plenty sore. “I’d like to know what’s funny.”

“Really?” Drake asked dryly. “You ought to be a sight in those red G-strings you call underwear. Come to think of it, though, I doubt that would be the best introduction Tara could have to the mysteries of man.”

Russ looked at Telford. “Surely you’ve got something to say about how that would look to Alexis.”

Telford got up. “Didn’t occur to me, Russ. You’re not crazy. Come on. Let’s put this pool cover in the garage.”

“But what will I swim in?”

“You can use those boxer shorts Henry gave me for Christmas five or six years ago,” Telford said. “They’re on a shelf in the game room. I’m going into town and get some swimming trunks.”

“Yeah,” Russ yelled after him, “and bring some of those water wings kids wear on their arms when they’re learning to swim.” He found the shorts, put them on and raced out to the pool. Half an hour later, his body soothed and his soul comforted, he stepped out of the water.

“Can I swim with you, Mr. Russ?” Tara sat on the stone bench watching him. He wondered how long she’d been there and thanked God for the fence.

“As soon as we get you something to swim in. Yes.”

“Can Mr. Telford swim?”

He couldn’t help laughing. She loved Telford, and everybody other than her mother came after him. “You bet he can.” He sat on the bench beside her and took her hand. “Don’t open this gate, and don’t go to the pool when you’re by yourself. You understand?”

She nodded. “Okay.”

He couldn’t let himself leave her there, not even with the fence to protect her. “Let’s go inside and get some lemonade.” Anything to take her attention away from the pool.

She got up, took his hand and said, “Okay.”

He walked with her to the kitchen, her little hand snug in his, and understood why Telford was so attached to her. That little girl made a man feel ten feet tall.

“Want to swim with me?” Telford asked Alexis later that night after he heard Russ and Drake go to their rooms. He hoped they didn’t track water over the house as they usually did after swimming.

“Yes, I’d love it. Tara’s in bed, but I don’t think she’s asleep yet. I’ll call you back. What’s your number?”

“Wait a minute. As long as you’ve been here, you don’t know my phone number?”

“I figured you’d give it to me if you wanted me to have it. Anyway, I never had a reason to call you.”

She’d never had a reason to call him! “You certainly know how to make a man feel great.”

“Ooops!”

He gave her the number. “Be sure and write it down. And some of these nights when you’re having trouble sleeping, use it.”

“Does that mean you go sound asleep every night as soon as your head hits the pillow?”

“If I telephoned you every time you got between me and sleep, you’d be thoroughly rest broken by now. Call me when you’re ready.”

Later, he stepped off the back porch and looked around at the bright night. Where was she? A gentle breeze teased his flesh, ruffling the silky curls he inherited from his mother and stroking his chest, thighs and belly like the tips of a woman’s warm fingers. He strolled over to the rose garden and stopped short. She stood amidst the flowers, an ethereal vision in a long, billowing white skirt, shrouded in moonlight. His breath lodged in his throat. The most beautiful being he’d ever seen.

She didn’t know he was there, and he didn’t want to frighten her, so he squelched his need to touch her. He had an urge to know for certain if she really cared about him. Swaying gently in the breeze, the roses perfumed the night, filling his head with senseless ideas. Outlandish thoughts. To have a woman like her for himself alone…and for all time… Maybe he ought to go back inside and forget about the swim. She turned then, and when her gaze fell on him, she smiled in that way that said he was a special man. Special to her. With slow, deliberate steps she walked to him.

“It’s so beautiful tonight. This scene almost takes my breath away.”

“
You
take my breath away. You are so lovely. I…I want to drown myself in you.”

She lowered her lashes and looked away from him, displaying a diffidence that he hadn’t associated with her.

“I’m sorry if I’ve embarrassed you,” he said, “but you’re wrecking my common sense right now. Seeing you like this and knowing it’s the way you want me to see you… Alexis, you’re raising hell with my mind.”

I’ve done it now,
he thought, as her arms locked across her bare middle giving him the impression that she felt undressed. He stepped closer and dusted her cheek with the back of his hand.

“Don’t hide yourself from me. Not now or ever. To me, you’re the essence of beauty.”

“S…slow down, Telford. You don’t want what you’re implying.”

Without knowing he’d do it, his right arm shot out and encircled her waist and his fingers knew at last the feel of her silky flesh. “I want it, all right. I’m going crazy for it.”

“It’s just the moonlight. It’s the night. We said we were going for a s-swim, that—”

“I know what we said, but it can wait. Open your mouth for me.”

Before his words filled the air, her lips parted, and her arms went around him and tightened. The feel of her full breasts almost naked against his bare chest sent tremors of desire plowing through him. He told himself to think about his workers’ possible strike, the atomic bomb, the War of 1812, anything but the woman in his arms as he plunged his tongue into her, and she took him, feasting as if her life depended on it. He turned to his side to prevent arousal, but she moved with him, locked an arm across the flesh of his buttocks and gripped him to her. Heat spiraled straight to his groin, and he jerked away from her, lest he spill out of his skimpy swim trunks. The sound of her hot moans of desire set his heart into a spin, whirling like a barrel on its way down a hill, and he
lifted her to fit him. Face-to-face, he stared into her eyes, and the innocence he saw there shocked him back to reality.

“Alexis! My God. What am I doing to you?” He slid her to her feet with great care so as not to upset her. “Honey, I must have gone out of my mind.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I was half a split second from getting inside you, and you…you trusted me not to do that. I think we’re going to have a talk about this, but right now, I’d better get into that pool. Are you going in with me?”

“Y…yes, if you still want to.”

She untied the long, white skirt, let it drop to the grass and he gaped. The scrap of red cloth below her navel matched her bra and hid only the absolute minimum. He let out a sharp whistle, opened the gate and dived into the pool.

The impact of the cold water tempered his desire, but only its physical manifestations. His head told him that if he ever sank into her, he would no longer have the option of walking away, for the abandon with which she responded to him left him with no doubt that she’d love him uninhibitedly, giving him everything he needed. And he ached for the sweet heat of her body.

Beneath that cool facade, he’d found a passionate, wildly sensuous woman, who… He came up for air, flipped over and did the backstroke. How on earth could a woman with a sex drive as powerful as hers and who’d been married for five years be so naive about a man’s sexual threshold? He switched back to the Australian crawl and, with powerful kicks, swam as fast as he could, hoping to deplete his energy.

Alexis stared after Telford as he plunged into the pool. He might as well have hypnotized her. Maybe he had. Her common sense—not to speak of her willpower—seemed to take a walk whenever he touched her. If she had any sense, she’d leave. Her original reasons for wanting to avoid a relationship with him paled in importance compared to her role in Melanie
Krenner’s disappearance. When he discovered it, he’d put her as far away from him as possible.

“What are you waiting for?” he called out. “The water’s great.” When she didn’t respond, he needled, “You
can
swim, can’t you?”

She kicked off her sandals. “Of course I can.”
My hair will get wet, and I’ll look like a rat if I dive in there.
She walked to the steps, grabbed the bar and waded in.

“Chicken. I wouldn’t have thought it.”

“Get me a bathing cap, and I’ll dive for you.”

Seconds after she shoved away from the edge of the pool, he surfaced beside her. “Swim on my back, and your hair won’t get wet.”

“No, thanks. I want a swim, not a ride as if I were a baby whale.”

“I wouldn’t touch that one with a loaded missile.”

They swam beside each other for several laps, synchronized as if performing a water ballet. When they reached the south end of the pool, he stopped them.

“Doesn’t this seem eerie to you? Our swimming together stroke for stroke as if we’d spent hours rehearsing it?”

She had thought of it, but she wouldn’t have dared articulate such sentiments. Too much about their relationship seemed preordained.