A Slow Boil (24 page)

“You need to learn how to use passwords.”  I remembered how
easily I’d gotten onto his wireless network.

He snorted.  “I suppose I do.  I trusted her, though,
and I shouldn’t have.  After we split, I just gave up.  I’d lost my
mother, Jill, and now Susan.  Everything in life just seemed to be out of
my control, whether I lived like a vagabond artist or an upstanding
professional, it didn’t seem to make any difference.”

“And that’s when you moved here?”

“Yes, within about six months.  I didn’t care where I went, I
just wanted to get away.  I guess I’m a runner.  I ran after my
parents died and I ran after things fell apart with Susan.”  He kissed my
head again.

“You shouldn’t see yourself as running away, you could be running
forward, toward something better.”

He pulled me to him.  “Maybe you’re right.”

We were silent again.

“Maybe that’s where my need for obedience comes from.  When I
moved here and hired my first housekeeper, I could finally tell someone exactly
what I wanted them to do, and they’d do it.”

“You were alone and unhappy.”

“Yes.  Very.  The only respite was my brothers’ visits
in the summer, and even those chafed at me.  I wanted the silence back,
the control.  I wanted them to come but I couldn’t wait until they
left.  I’m sure I was a very engaging host.”  He laughed a little,
then reached down and turned my face up to his.

“Sylvia, I’m so messed up.  What in God’s name do you see in
me?”

“You’re not messed up, Adam, just a little scarred.”  I
looked into his eyes and said the only thing I could.  “And what I see in
you is beautiful.”

“Good evening, Mr. Hunter,” I said as I pushed through the
dining-room door the next evening at six.

“Miss Lane.”  He was leaning against the sideboard, his long
legs crossed in front of him.

I put his first course down and went up to him for my kiss. 
He reached behind me and untied my apron, lifting it over my head and putting
it on the sideboard behind him, bending down to kiss me, holding me to him
tightly, working his way down to my throat.  “What would the most
beautiful housekeeper in the world recommend to drink tonight?”

“A white, something fruity but dry.  Italian if possible,” I
whispered, the effect he had on me as potent as the first time he’d kissed me.

“I’ll be right back.”  He let me go and headed for the wine
cellar, giving me a smile on his way out.  I could tell he’d missed our
dinners last week, and I had too.  I slipped off my shoes and lowered the
zipper of my dress a few inches, waiting next to my chair for his return.

“I hope a pinot
grigio
will do,” he
said, walking quickly back into the room with a bottle and the opener.

“That should be perfect.”

He pulled my chair out for me, poured two glasses of wine and took
his seat.

“What have we here?”

“Steamed mussels, sir.  I was hoping to serve oysters but
Southbay’s
didn't have any.”

He reached up to cup my neck, his fingers dipping under my
necklace.  “Please don’t tell me you went to extra effort tonight after
all the cooking you did last week.”

“You deserve a special meal, sir, after having your peace
disrupted.”

“But I had fun.  You’re the one who did all the work.”

“Finally earned my salary, you mean.”

He shook his head a little and smiled.  “I could pay you ten
times what I do, and it wouldn’t come close to fair compensation.”  He
turned back to his plate.  “Now, tell me what’s in this sauce.  It
smells incredible.”

The rest of the meal passed slowly.  I kept my right hand on
his leg through most the meal, reaching over occasionally to rub my bare foot
on his shin.  He praised the lobster
fra
diavolo
, leaning over to kiss me between bites.

“This is unbelievable.  Did you cook the lobster yourself?”

“No, I’m still not ready to try that.  Pete offered to boil
it at the store or you’d be having prawns right now instead.”

“That would have been just as good, Miss Lane.  Really, you
do too much.”  He offered me a piece of lobster with his fingers, which I
licked clean.

“
Mmm
, that is good.”

“It’s perfect.  Just the right amount of spice.”  He
swirled some linguine around his fork and offered it to me.  He watched my
mouth close over the fork and his eyes narrowed.  “In fact, the only way
this meal could be improved is if I could eat it off your naked body.”

My eyebrows shot up and I could feel myself beginning to
color.  Our dinners had been evolving, but did he really think I was going
to let him do that?

Suddenly his face broke into a smirk and he ran his thumb over my
cheek.  “I’m just kidding, Miss Lane, but I must say I’m happy I can still
make you blush.”

I swallowed my pasta and feigned indignation.  “Enjoy my
blush while it lasts, Mr. Hunter.  That’s the last time I fall for one of
your jokes.”

“We’ll see about that,” he laughed.

I rubbed my foot on his leg.  “I’m glad I can still make you
smile.”

“That will never change, my perfect girl.”

August was a blur of hot days, warm nights, and long, long
dinners.  Mr. Hunter and I couldn’t seem to get enough of each other, our
lust as unabated as it had been in June, maybe even greater.  We didn’t
talk about what would happen in the fall if I didn’t get accepted at Noble, nor
what we’d do if I did.  I couldn’t stay here if I wasn’t enrolled as a
student, so I knew that if Noble didn’t accept me, I’d have to go home.  I
didn’t like to think about that, so I didn’t.

I did, however, think about what would happen if I was
accepted.  I wanted to continue living with Mr. Hunter, and was pretty
sure he’d ask me to stay, as he told me almost daily how much I meant to
him.  The problem was the absurd amount of money he gave me each
week.  I wanted to tell him he didn’t have to pay me anymore, that I
wasn’t with him because of his financial generosity.  Knowing what I did
now about his last relationship, I was even more determined that he couldn’t
keep paying me.  I was praying that if Noble accepted me, they’d also
offer me enough financial aid that I could tell Mr. Hunter his payments had to
end.  I’d be glad to do his housework and serve him dinner for nothing, in
exchange for letting me stay with him.

If I didn’t get enough financial aid, I had no idea what I’d
do.  I just couldn’t allow Mr. Hunter to pay my tuition, which is
basically what he’d be doing.  I could get a job elsewhere, but the thought
of being in school, getting a job in town, and still keeping up with my duties
here seemed like too much to shoulder.  The thought of him hiring a new
housekeeper was out of the question.

Even Britt couldn’t help me come up with a solution.  We went
away to the beach for a weekend where we lay in the sun, drank margaritas, and
mulled it over together.

“Why don’t you want him to keep paying you?  Doesn’t that
solve everything?”

“It does financially, but I don’t want him to think I’m with him for
his money.  Plus it makes me feel like a kept woman.  I mean, come
on, he’s giving me free and board already, and now I let him pay for college,
too?  I’d look like a gold-digger.  And he’d finally look like a
sugar daddy.”

“All that matters is what the two of you think, not anyone else’s
opinion.”

“I know, I know, but I also don’t like putting myself in such a
dependent position.  I’ve always taken care of myself, you know?  If
I let him keep paying me, I feel like I’m giving away some of my independence,
my self-sufficiency.”

“What if he hired a housekeeper just to do the cleaning, and
you’re home in time to make his dinners?”

“That might work, but I really don’t like the idea of someone else
doing my job.”  I really, really didn’t like the idea.

“Does he need to hire a housekeeper at all?  Is he that much
of a pig?”

I laughed.  “No, he’s really neat.  Lots of days I just
go through the motions of cleaning his clean house.”

“Well, you two will work it out.  You’re happy together,
that’s the important thing.  Don’t worry about stuff that hasn’t happened
yet.”

I sighed.  “You’re right.  I don’t know why I’m getting
myself upset over this.”

“Because you love him, and you want to have an equal-sided
relationship.”

“Yes.  That’s it exactly, Britt.”

“So when do you hear back from Noble?”

“I sent in what they call an expedited application, so hopefully
in a week or so.”

“That doesn’t give you much time, one way or the other.”

“Nope.  I’ll have about two weeks before I either go home or
start school.”

“Sylvia, it will all work out.  I know it will.  Things
just do.”  She looked over at me and gave me a reassuring smile.

I lifted my margarita glass to hers and clinked it.  “Here’s
to things working out.”

When I got home Sunday night, Mr. Hunter waited at the front door
while Britt and I said our good-byes.  He and Britt waved to each other as
she left and he took my bag from me as I met him at the door, gesturing for me
to enter the house first.  I was on the second stair, just about to turn
around and start telling him about my weekend when I heard the bag drop to the
floor.  He was behind me the next instant, throwing one arm high around my
waist, one across my hips, easily lifting me off my feet and pulling me tightly
against him.

He carried me into the living room and spun me onto the couch, not
even giving me time to stop bouncing before he was on top of me.  He
kissed me like a starving man given a meal, like we’d been apart for months
instead of days.

“You can’t leave me again,” he groaned into my mouth, his first
words to me.  “Ever.”

His urgency lit my own.  “Never,” I mumbled, tightening my
arms around his shoulders.

“Promise,” he growled into my neck, pressing me down with his
chest, his hands running down my legs, pulling them up around his hips.

“I promise I’ll never leave you.  I love you.”  The
words were out my mouth before I realized it, but I didn’t care anymore. 
It was true.

“Say it again.”  His frantic movements had come to a sudden
halt, his face still buried in my neck.

“I love you.”

“Again.”  He pressed into me.

“I love you, Mr. Hunter.  I love you, sir.  I love you,
Adam.  I love you.  I love you.”  Now that it was out, I
couldn’t stop saying it.  “I love you.”

He didn’t move for a long time.  I felt his body weight on
mine, heard him breathing in my ear, as I waited for him to say the words back.

“Sylvia.”  It came out like a sigh.

I didn’t answer, just held my head against his.  He was
silent for several moments, his hand coming up to gently stroke the other side
of my neck, his weight shifting a little to the side.  Finally he turned
his head so that he was facing me and kissed my jaw and my ear, caressing my
neck for another minute before he spoke.

“That first night you worked here late, I couldn’t sleep and heard
you tiptoe in at two. When I came in to check on you, you were sound
asleep.  You looked so exhausted, so fragile, so beautiful.  I’d
never felt such an urge to protect someone.”

I tightened my arms around him.

“I thought when I asked you to move in, that I could keep my distance. 
But that day in the library when you were laying there in front of me,
barefooted, I knew I wanted you.”  He lifted his head, bringing his arm up
to prop it on his elbow, looking at me a little sadly.  “I felt so bad for
wanting you.  Here I’d dressed you up in a uniform, made you serve me
dinner, had you scurrying around the house at my command.  But then you
threatened to hurt me,” his expression turned into a smile, “and I realized you
were more than capable of holding your own.”

I smiled, encouraging him silently to go on.

“The afternoon I went to Arnolds, when I passed through the
jewelry section, I was suddenly overwhelmed by how much you meant to me. 
I wanted to buy you the whole store.”

He ran a finger down my throat, then traced slowly back and forth
over the dip of my collarbone.

“I still didn’t think it was right.  I wanted you so much but
I didn’t want to want you.  I didn’t see how I could possibly be good for
you.”

I held his gaze while he cupped my cheek, his fingers slipping
into my hair.

“It was the morning you were sunbathing that I finally gave up
fighting it.  You looked so happy and relaxed.  I realized that being
here made you happy, that maybe I made you happy.”

I nodded and brought a hand up to circle his wrist, running my fingers
over the light hair on his forearm.

“I think I fell in love with you that night when I helped you fix
dinner, but seeing how hard you worked made me hesitate again.  All I
could think about was how much you do for me and how little I could give you in
return.”  He paused again, his thumb rubbing lightly back and forth over
my bottom lip.  “The day you came running into my office and said you
wanted me, though, that’s when I knew I loved you already, that I’d loved you
for some time.”

He dipped his head down and kissed my forehead, my eyelids, my
nose,
my
lips.  I squeezed him tightly with my
legs.  “You won’t leave me this fall.  You’ll stay with me.”  I
nodded again.  I already knew I wouldn’t leave him if I got accepted.

“But, sir -”

His face broke into a small smile.

“What if I don’t get accepted?  I can’t stay here when my
visa expires.”

“I’ll come back to the States with you.”

“You will?”

“I can work from anywhere.  Almost everything I do is
online.”

“You’d leave here, this house, for me?”

“Anything for you, my very, very dearest Miss Lane.”  He
kissed me again.  “It’d be like running away together.”

I reached up this time to kiss him, hard, as hard as I could.

“But don’t worry, you’ll get in.”

“How can you be so sure?”

He shook his head.  “I just can’t imagine anyone not wanting
you, my perfect girl.”  He nuzzled my neck and lifted an arm to run his
hand up and down my leg.  “Now let’s get you upstairs so I can welcome you
home properly.”

“No.”

“No?”  He lifted his head with his eyebrows raised.

“Here.”  I tightened my legs again.

“Here?”  A slow smile drew across his mouth.