Eyewitness. Part 14

She whispered, "You named her?" He could feel those eyes turning on him now.

He lifted a shoulder, feeling at once eleven feet tall and shaky as a sapling. "Well, not exactly." He cleared his throat. "'liirns out she had a name all along. I just never thought to find out what it was: '

"And that's it? Old Faithful?" She was smiling, for the first time in what seem like days-just looking and looking at him and smiling that wraparound, megawatt smile.

Hoo-boy, thought Doug. He just hoped to G.o.d she never found out what she was capable of doing to him with those eyes and that smile.

Not far beyond that they came to a roadblock with flas.h.i.+ng lights and a sign that read Chains Required Beyond this Point. A highway pa holman waved him to the side of the road, then walked over and tapped on the driver's side window Doug rolled it down, and the patrolman leaned over to get a good look inside the car.

"Sorry, sir, I can't let you go any farther unless you've got some snow chains: '

"Right," said Doug. "Got 'em right here."

The officer didn't move away from the door. "Do you live in the area, sir? We're not recommending you go into the area unless you're a local resident. Due to the poor visibility , we are going to be closing the road here very shortly." "" That right? " said Doug. He casually took out his badge and showed it to the officer. " How long do you expect it to stay closed? "

"Depends on the weather conditions. At least until daylight : The patrolman was using his flashlight to take a good long look at Doug's m. " Is this official business, Sergeant ? " He was looking at Joy.

"Yeah, it is," said Doug. He didn't expect to be believed. "lTh-huh," said the patrolman with an absolutely straight face. "Well, Sergeant MacDougal, if you'll just get those chains on, I guess you can proceed at your own risk. And you have a nice evening. Drive carefully." He straightened and went crunching off through the deepening slush to meet the next set of headlights.

Doug rolled up his window. " " Did you hear that? They're closing the road. At least until daylight: '

Joy nodded. They looked at each other for along time. Then, like a diver preparing to jump, Doug turned up his collar, took a breath and murmured, "Well, I guess I'd better get those chains on. Here goes." He opened the door and plunged headfirst into the snowstorm.

Until daylight. While she waited for MacDougal to come back, Mary found herself repeating those words over and over to herself, like a mantra. Her head was saying, loudly and insistently, You have to tell him. But her heart kept pleading, No-oh, no, please. I have until daylight. Maybe longer, if it kept snowing, and if the snowplows were late. But at the very least. until daylight.

"Well-that should do it: MacDougal climbed into the driver's seat, bringing with him a rush of cold air and scattering snow like a large, exuberant dog. White flakes dusted his hair and the shoulders of his jacket, and his cheeks and nose were cold-reddened and glistened with moisture. He blew on his hands to warm them, then turned to grin at Mary. Her heart turned over.

When and how, in such a short time, had his face become so familiar and dear to her? How was it even possible ? Her throat locked; her fingers tingled with the impulse to touch him. And in her mind, she did touch him. saw her hand reaching, felt his cool, wet hair on the tips of her fingers , then his cheek, and the roughness of his jaw felt his big, cold hand cover hers, and his breath pool warmth in the hollow of her palm. Again her stomach lurched and rolled as if she were standing on the deck of a s.h.i.+p in heavy seas.

"You should have taken the raincoat," she murmured , feeling too warm in it herself all of a sudden.

"Nah, that's okay. It's just brisk, that's all. It's not that far to the cabin-we'll get warmed up when we get there."

He started up the car and they moved slowly onto the road, the chains clanking and jingling with an almost festive racket. Even MacDougal seemed exhilarated, carefree, very unlike the MacDougal Mary had come to know. Deep in her chest her heart began to beat a slow, suspenseful cadence , like a big ba.s.s drum.

He'd said it wasn't far to the cabin, but of course distance was a subjective thing in those conditions. It seemed to take forever to get there. They couldn't go very fast, and the road twisterl and turned through a dizzying swirl of gray and white that at times seemed to close in on them like a curtain or a wall, more solid than the ghost-pines that hovered just beyond visibility. qvice they stopped while MacDougal got out and floundered through the snow to read a road sign.

Just when Mary was thinking, Oh, G.o.d, if we're lost, we're dead, he turned the Mercedes off the road into a narrow s.p.a.ce between towering sentinel pines, and they crunched through thick, fresh powder to a b.u.mpy stop.

"This is it," he said. "We're here."

And there it was, looming ahead of them, dark in the snow-the cabin in the photograph. Just about here the photographer must have stood, to snap that picture of the four good friends.

Mary s.h.i.+vered suddenly, and MacDougal looked over at her. "I'm going to leave the motor running while I unlock and check things out. You stay here, stay warm: He reached out to touch her cheek in a brief and unexpected caress. Then he opened the door and onre more dived into the storm.

You have to tell him.

Mary closed her eyes. A shudder rippled through her like a suppressed sob. No, she cried silently, clenching her jaws until they hurt. No. Not yet. I still have a few more hours. until daylight. I'll tell him then. I will. I promise.

She waited for him, her body tense and racked with s.h.i.+vers in spite of the car's efficient heater. It seemed to take him such along time, and time was so precious to her now. When he finally did appear, taking shape like a phantom in the swirling white, her heart gave a violent surge of relief and gladness.

Oh, G.o.d, she thought, is this what it's like? She'd have walked barefoot through the snowdrifts to go to him, if that was what it took.

She actually had the door open and was preparing to do just that when he stopped her, laughing through a mask of melting snowflakes. "Hey, where do you think you're going ? Stay put-I'm going to see if I can find you some boots: He was breathless with cold and exercise, red cheeked and sparkly-eyed, full of that particular high-octane energy people seem to become infused with when it snows. He slammed her door shut and opened the back one, talking in short bursts as he gathered up the groceries he'd bought at the truck stop. " I've got the pilot lit. and the heater going. At least there's propane-don't know how much, but. we've got the camp stove in case we run out. I'm going to take this stuff in. then come back for you. Okay? Be right back. "

The door closed on the cold and the howling wind, and she was left alone with her s.h.i.+vers. and with that very new sensation of incompleteness. She decided she didn't like it at all, feeling as if part of herself was missing. She felt naked and vulnerable, and vaguely resentful. She'd been self sufficient for so long-and she hadn't asked for this! I don't want it, she cried silently. Take it away!

But then MacDougal's big solid form was there beside her once more, blocking out the storm, and she knew that, as terrifying as it was, she wouldn't have traded loving him for anything in the world.

"Couldn't find any boots: His head and shoulders filled the car as he reached across her to turn off the car's engine and remove the key from the ignition. Then it was his warmth that enveloped her.

"What are you doing?" she squeaked, grabbing wildly and instinctively for his neck as she felt his arms nudging behind her back and under her knees.

"That's right-put your arms around my neck. Hold on tight-upsy-daisy ! "

Mary gave a squawk that was equal parts dismay and giddy delight as she felt herself being lifted bodily, swung upward and hefted like a child, then securely cradled in strong, masculine arms. It was a completely new experience for her. She'd always been a tall, gawky girl-probably hadn't been picked up and carried since she was three years old, if then, since her parents hadn't exactly been known for coddling their children. She found it unnerving, breathtaking, like the very first time on a Ferris wheel. Laughing and speechless, she hid her face against the scratchy wet wool of MacDougal's jacket and hung on for dear life.

It wasn't exactly easy for him, either. The ground was treacherous-snow over pine needles-and she didn't know how he managed to hold on to her and keep his footing. Several times it seemed certain they'd both go down in a pile. But then she felt him going up some steps, heard the hollow thump of his footsteps on wood, and she was being b.u.mped up against a door while he groped for the k.n.o.b.

"Put me... down," she gasped. "I'm okay now. I can make it: '

"Shh, I've got it-hold on-there. " The door gave and burst inward with their combined weight. They stumbled into the cabin in a flurry of wind and snow, half frozen, breathless and laughing.

He lowered her feet to the pine wood floor, but somehow forgot to let go of her. Instead, the arm that had been supporting her legs came up to meet the one that was already around her waist. And she, rather than releasing her hold on his neck, found herself leaning into him, drawn like a magnet to his warmth. She tasted the cold moisture of melting snow on his face, then the cool silk of his lips. the warmth inside. then liquid heat that seemed to pour all through her.

It was probably inevitable, Doug thought later-much later, when he could think again. They were like under-dry brush in a Santa Ana wind, just waiting for the spark. He wasn t sure whether he was the arsonist, or she; he only knew he couldn t stop it, even it he'd wanted to.

Wanted? What he wanted right then was simple. He wanted his woman, his mate, wanted to feel her naked skin sliding against his, her body feverish and pliant under him, wanted to bury himself in her softness and feel her heat close around him, and then to move with her to the rhythms of life in a dance as old as humankind. What could be less complicated? What could be more right ?

Her wants were the same as his, he could tell; her fingers were tangling in his hair, her teeth clas.h.i.+ng, tongue battling with his with the same single-minded purpose, as if she'd been hungry-starving-for a very long time. When he drove his tongue deep into her mouth, establis.h.i.+ng once and for all his mastery and control, she made a sound low in her throat, a sound of hunger and desire that matched his own.

He felt her knees buckle, heard the throat sounds become little whimpers of need. So it seemed a very natural thing to do, to cast the impeding raincoat to the floor, slide his hands down over her supple waist to the lush swell of her hips, grasp her b.u.t.tocks and pull her hard against him. Natural, too, that she should come to him with such a perfect fit, and wrap her legs around him.

Holding him in that joyful embrace, she tore her mouth from his and threw her head back, sobbing for breath. With a growl of primitive triumph and dominance he took her bared throat in his open mouth, exerting just enough pressure to elicit a soft moan of surrender before releasing her to rake his teeth along the sensitive cords of her neck. At the join of her shoulder, just above the collarbone, he closed his mouth over her fragile skin and sucked until she gasped and clutched at his shoulders. He could feel her b.r.e.a.s.t.s grow hard and tight, her nipples bead against his chest.

He began to think urgently about the need to find a place for this. Standing where they were would have done, but definitely as a last resort. Lying down was preferable, and although the floor wasn't out of the question, in the dim reservoirs of his reason, Doug remembered that they did have access to a bed. And so, without changing much about the position they were in, he began moving in the general direction of one of the bedrooms.

He was totally unprepared when Joy suddenly tore herself free of him and scrambled away across the room as if he'd just sprouted a second head, complete with horns.

"No!" she gasped with her back to him, breathing hard and visibly trembling. "I won't go through this againe again don't do this to me. I can't... I can't: '

"Joy-" he croaked, cold and thick-witted with shock. ; "What-if you don't want to, just-"

"Don't want to? Don't want? Are you crazy, MacDougal , or just dccmb?" She drove both hands furiously I into her hair, then turned to glare at him, and he could see now that her eyes were luminous with unshed tears.

"Then.. why?" He kept his voice low, treading carefully on unfamiliar ground. "Tell me what's wrong, Joy."

"What's wrong? What's wrong? The same thing that was wrong before, right? What's changed, MacDougal? What were you going to do, take me right to the edge and then leave me there, like you did last time? " She was sobbing in earnest now, das.h.i.+ng angrily at her tears as if they were an , affront to her pride-which, he was beginning to understand , was exactly what they were. "Because-" She gulped wretchedly and whispered, "I couldn't take that again. I just couldn't. I thought I was going to die, dammit. It hurts. "

For a few moments Doug couldn't say anything. He'd never experienced such a tangle of emotions, and he didn't quite know what to do with them. Finally he cleared his throat and said stiffly, "I wouldn't do that to you again. Or to myself, either, for that matter. The last thing I'd ever want to do is hurt you: '

"All right, then, I don't understand." She was hugging herself now, trying to control her violent s.h.i.+vering. He wanted nothing so much as to go to her and wrap her up in his arms, but he wasn't sure enough, yet, of his ground.

"What were you thinking of, anyway, MacDougal? You're the one with all the principles, remember? The d.a.m.n B-B-Boy Scout:'

He began to chuckle, softly and ruefully. "Well, yeah, I guess I am." He reached inside his coat, searched his pockets until he found the small package he'd tucked away in one of them. He glanced at it, then said, "Here," and tossed it to her.

She caught it, stared down at it, then back at him, saying absolutely nothing while he waited, feeling as vulnerable as he'd ever felt before in his life. Finally, unable to stand the suspense any longer, he shrugged and said diffidently, "That's the Boy Scout motto, by the way. Be Prepared."

Her expression had grown wondering. "You bought these.. : '

"At the truck stop. Yeah, I did."

He could see her throat working while she studied the package of condoms in her hands. When she looked up at him again she had that wistful, hungry waif look on her face, that big-eyed, crushed-mouth look that always made him feel like he wanted to go to her and wrap his arms around her and keep her warm and safe from all possible harm. He'd gotten that same feeling, he now realized, the very first time he'd ever encountered that look on her face. He just hadn't realized then what it was, or how it was going to affect the course of his life.

He didn't go to her now, though, because he could still sense a certam wariness in her, and knew she wasn't ready to take down the barricades yet.

"I don't understand," she said finally, looking away from him, though not before he saw the bright bloom of color in her cheeks. "I mean, this doesn't really change anything, does it? " She looked back at him, reproachful and accusing' You still a cop, and I'm still. whatever it is I am to you. You still. I mean, I don't want to have to feel guilty about. seducing you, or something. What's funny? Why are you laughing? "

"Guilty," he murmured, shaking his head. "Isn't that supposed to be the man's line?" But he really didn't feel like laughing. He was walking slowly toward her now, gaining confidence but keeping his hands in his pockets so he wouldn't reach for her prematurely and ruin everqthing.

A few feet away from her he stopped. His throat felt clogged with gravel, but he didn't even try to clear it. So his voice came out sounding like a bad George C. Scott imitation. "Yeah, I'm still a cop. But see, what's changed is.. what you just said. What you are to me. You're not just a witness in my custody anymore, Joy. I'm not sure you ever were. You re not just... somebody I'm responsible for Protecting because that's my job. He took a deep breath. "I care about you.

"You care about me." She said it dully, as if she didn't understand what he was getting at.

He pulled his hands from his pockets and threw them out in a gesture of exasperation and utter helplessness. " " Dammit , Joy, I havefeeltngs for you: '

"Feelings." It was the same flat tone as before, but he could have sworn he saw the shadows of a teasing smile lurking behind the suns.h.i.+ne glow in her eyes. "What kind of feelings, MacDougal? There's all kinds of feelings-good feelings, bad feelings..."

She was right. He was being silly. And a craven coward. What was so hard about saying it? He drew a ragged breath and croaked, "Joy, I'm trying to tell you I've fallen-"

But she winced as if she'd felt a sudden and intense stab of pain, and came into his arms with a cry of what sounded oddly like contrition. "No," she whispered urgently against his mouth, "don't say it. Don't say it. Please-just q me. Hold me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

He felt rocked and confused, but he gave her what she'd asked for, kissing her long and deeply, until she sagged a ain st him like someone who d had too much champagne.

Joy, he breathed fervently into her hair, "I want to make love with you. But only if you want it, too. You understand ? No pressure-I'll just hold you, if that's-"

She drew back sharply and mumbled, "How much time do we have?"

"How much time?" He frowned at her; it seemed such an odd thing to ask.

She shook her head impatiently. "Until daylight. How long is it until daylight?"

"Uh... I don't know, what time is it now? " He lifted his hand above her shoulder and looked at his watch. "This time of year.. probably three more hours, at least. Why?"

"Three hours..." Something bleak and desolate flashed across her face, but almost before he could wonder about it, she closed her eyes and swayed toward him, burying her face in the hollow under his jaw as if she were starvingq and he a heaven-sent banquet.

"Yes, " she whispered. "Oh, yes... I do want... to make love with you: '

Until daylight. Her heart was so full of all that she couldn't say to him-overflowing with it. She felt overwhelmed , almost as if she were drowning in her own emotions "I wish we had a fire," said MacDougal, sounding slightly dazed. "I don't want you to be cold." He was holding her close, gently stroking her.

"I wasn't even thinking about that. I don't feel cold at all." She knew what he was doing-deliberately slowing them both down-but she didn't want him to. Time was so very precious.

"Then why are your teeth chattering?"

"Nerves." She gave a small, shaken laugh; she couldn't let him feel her terrible sense of urgency. "I think you're gonna have to calm me down: '

"I don't know if I can. I'm in worse shape than you are. Oh, jeez, I just thought of something." He paused, one hand resting lightly on the nape of her neck. " " Did you mean it when you said you hadn't. since high school? " She nodded, rubbing her cheek against the inside of his forearm' But that's... got to be-" "

A long time. I know. q She si he'd and closed her eyes, smiting. Hey, listen, don't worry about it, MacDougal. It's not like I'm a virgin. And I've heard it's not something you g g, " for' et how to do-kind of like swimmin or riding a bike.

Or singing, MacDougal murmured into her hair. His hands were moving again, stroking along the tendons in her neck. "You sure didn't forget how to do that."

She swayed; her head was beginning to wilt. "Just needed... to let it go. You helped me, you know: '

"Idid?"

She nodded. Her throat was full-those emotions again. Because she couldn t speak, she took his hand in both of hers and laid it against her cheek, then pressed her lips into the warm hollow of his palm.

"Joy..." His voice sounded choked. "I want to see you. But... I don't want you to be cold."

She opened her eyes and looked into his. "I won't be " , she said huskily. "You make me feel warm. Always: '

She let go of his hand and reached for the b.u.t.tons on her s.h.i.+rt, but he intercepted her hands and moved them gently aside, and put his there instead. Her eyes clung to his as his fingers moved deftly and surely downward-it was his s.h.i.+rt, after all, they were his b.u.t.tons, and he'd had some recent practice. Her breathing grew shallow, the barest flutter . not even enough to stir MacDougal's hair when he leaned down to kiss what he'd uncovered.

"I want-" she began, then softly gasped. He'd flicked one of her nipples with his tongue and she'd felt it much farther down, in the very core of her body. She hadn't known. Her voice grew thin and airless. " " I want to see you, too, but. you have so many things on: '

He reluctantly lifted his head and murmured "I do don't I?" He shrugged his shoulders free of his jacket while Mary helped tug it down over his arms, then tossed it over the back of the nearest piece of fusniture, a worn, brown plaid couch.

"Your belt," said Mary, letting her hands rest lightly on it, but nothing more.

"Ah." The single syllable was dark and flat. He stepped away from her while he unbuckled it and laid it with care on top of his jacket. When he turned back to her he was unb.u.t.toning his s.h.i.+rt, his expression rueful and uncertain.

Her heart turned over. "Now I am cold," she said in a b.u.mpy voice. "You'll have to warm me up. Hurry-hold me-hold me... : '

And then she was in his arms again, enveloped in his warmth, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s nestled in his chest hair, her heartbeat b.u.mping frantically against his, and laughing with the exquqlq joy of it. He kissed her with a kind of frantic impatience she'd never seen in him before, deep, hard kisses that left her dizzy and gasping. His hands roamed her body as if they couldn't get enough of touching her, frustrated where they met coa.r.s.e fabric Instead of soft, pliant skin.

"Yes," she whispered, "yes, , ." a d clung to his neck while he dealt with the b.u.t.ton, and then the zipper of her jeans. He pushed them roughly over her hips, then drove his hands inside, next to her skin, cupping her b.u.t.tocks briefly before he shucked everything down and off, taking her panties along with the rest.

And then she was naked, and felt neither cold nor exposed She felt no shyness at all. She felt proud and strong, and intensely feminine. It seemed only natural and right, to be there with him. with MacDougal. This man was hers. All that she was, everything she had was his, she wanted nothing hidden from him, no secrets. no secrets.

A stricken cry burst from her throat. Misunderstanding its source, MacDougal swung her up into his arms. Tears squeezed from her tightly shut eyes as he carried her, trembling , to theqnearest bedroom and laid her gently down.

"The bed s not made up, he whispered, bracing above her on his arms as he kissed her tears away. And again he seemed neither touched nor dismayed by them, but simply accepted them as a natural part of her.

She laughed helplessly and shook her head. The bed didn't matter; nothing mattered but to be close to him, as close as two beings could be, for as long a time as she had left. In a few hours he wasn't going to want her anymore, and would probably wonder how he ever could have wanted her. After that, nothing mattered. Not even whether she lived or died.

Doug had forgotten the condoms. He went back for them disposing of the rest of his clothes while he was at it, and even remembering to lock the door and turn off the light. When he got back to the bedroom, he found that Joy had already turned on the small lamp beside the bed and was snuggled under the down comforter that lay on top of it, her head nested in a pile of caseless pillows. Her eyes were slumberous and soft, her mouth open and full. He wondered how it was possible for someone with a haircut like a small boy's to look so female . so lush. so s.e.xy. ! "I wondered what was taking you so long," she murmured, feasting on him with her eyes and in the process making him devoutly glad he wasn't p.r.o.ne to blus.h.i.+ng. She threw back the comforter, and he groaned aloud.