His eyes lit up with a wicked gleam. “Oh, what I could do with that leading line,” he said. “But you’d probably slap my face, so I’ll just say that blazing a trail down the mountain is only one course I plan to chart.”
She blushed to the roots of her hair and hastily jumped to her feet. “I’ll get the food ready. At least we’ll eat well as long as we’re stranded.”
The blanket was drying, but Jordan decided to leave it where it was. They could spread out their supper on the tarp. Reeves pulled his sweater over his head. He had taken off the windbreaker when he came in from the stream. “If you’ll excuse my bad manners, I’m going to take this thing off. Hauling the water was exerting. Not to mention…other stimulation.”
She tried to keep her eyes away from his chest, but couldn’t. She watched as he poured water from the bucket over a handkerchief and bathed his face, neck, and chest with the damp cloth. It reminded her of the time he had dried himself with her towel after she had let him in out of the rain.
Had that only been four days ago? Four days. Yet they were so familiar. She recognized his facial expressions and was able to interpret them. His tones of voice, his gestures were as familiar to her as her own—probably more so. Some lovers, she felt sure, didn’t know each other near this well even after being together for years.
She and Reeves wouldn’t have years. Days? Hours? The thought shattered her. She loved him, but he would walk out of her life as unexpectedly as he had walked into it. When the next disaster struck, he and his camera would be on their way to witness it. And she would be left behind with nothing but bittersweet memories.
Her face must have revealed some of her thoughts, for when he turned around Reeves looked at her closely. “Jordan? Is something wrong?”
Embarrassed at being caught, she stuttered, “Nnnno. I … I…You’re all cleaned up and I must look terrible.” She scrambled across the tarp and picked up her backpack, putting her back to him. “Can you give me a minute?”
“Take your time. I’ll pour the wine.”
“You’ll let me drink wine again?” she asked over her shoulder as she peeled off her sweater.
“Only in moderation,” he said with mock seriousness.
Jordan took a mirror out of her backpack, thankful that she had brought along a few grooming items. Her cheeks didn’t need artificial color. They were rosy from the wind and cold. To prevent chapping, she smoothed a moisturizing lotion on them. Her eyes were sparkling in the firelight so she didn’t bother to add more eye makeup. She whisked on a dollop of lip gloss and brushed her hair vigorously.
Luckily she had brought a purse atomizer of Norell, and she misted it around her neck and chest. Eyeing herself critically, she thought she didn’t look bad for being stranded on a mountain. Hesitantly, she unbuttoned the first three buttons of the oxford cloth blouse to relieve its severity.
When she turned around, Reeves whistled long and low. She laughed. “Thank you. I know I don’t deserve such a lavish compliment, but I appreciate it anyway.”
“You look terrific,” he said warmly, and his eyes told her he was sincere.
They ate slowly, and when their hunger was abated, Reeves said, “We can put the basket near the door to preserve the meats and cheeses.”
“How long do you think the storm will last?” Jordan asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Since it’s the first of the season, it probably won’t be too bad. We’ll reassess the situation in the morning.”
Tacitly they agreed not to discuss their departure from this tool shed that had conveniently provided them with a time and place of their own, away from the rest of the world. They would only face going back when they must. For now they would be grateful to the storm for making this encapsulation necessary.
Neither of them mentioned Helmut, though both knew that he must be frantic with worry about them. What would he think of them spending the night together? It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except their solitude in this mountain retreat.
“Look! Another box of chocolates!” Jordan exclaimed happily, and took the discovered treasure out of the hamper. Reeves snatched the box from her hands.
“Let me have some this time. You ate every one of them at lunch.”
“You had two pieces,” she argued.
“You were keeping count?” he teased, and held the box out of her reach.
As it ended up, they shared them equally. She fed Reeves his ration bite by bite and, when her fingertips became sticky and chocolate covered, he licked them clean.
She watched as he gently sucked each fingertip. His tongue laved it. A tight, tickling sensation welled up in her throat to match the one in the center of her body. Involuntarily her eyes closed. “I never knew that eating chocolates could be such an erotic experience,” she whispered.