He made a harsh, ragged sound. Instead of slowly fading, all the tension seemed to fall out of his big muscles. He encircled her waist and brought her against his torso tightly, his face pressing to her shoulder blade, his powerful chest heaving against her as he fought for air. He clutched her like he was afraid to let go.
Gia just stared at him in wonder in the mirror, as moved by the vision of him frayed and undone as she was by the ruthless, powerful lover.
Sixteen
Gia was beginning to get used to a vacation schedule, as new and alien as it was to her. She was starting to love the long, sweet hours filled with nothing but relaxation and discovery and pure, golden pleasure with Seth.
They spent the next week in a cocoon of warm intimacy, sitting in the hot tub under a dome of stars, talking, playing cards and watching old movies in bed far into the night. A few times, Seth brought some blankets onto the deck and they would lie on the wooden bench, snuggled together and cocooned beneath the covers.
“Do you like to go camping?” Seth asked her once as they had stared up at the beauty of the night sky.
“You mean sleep in tents and make campfires?” Gia asked doubtfully.
He lifted his head and peered at her closely. “Never mind,” he said, smirking, letting his head fall again. “City girl disdain is written all over your face right now.”
She laughed. “I’m not that bad. I’ve never been camping, so I don’t know if I’d like it or not. Maybe I would,” she said, touching his naked chest. “With you.”
Seth could make anything appealing, after all.
He smiled and pushed a tendril of hair behind her ear. “I’m thinking the best we could hope for in your case is glamping.”
“Glamping?”
“Yeah. Luxury camping. You get all the benefits of the beauty of the outdoors in addition to five-star restaurants and spas.”
“I don’t need a spa and restaurants,” Gia insisted. “I just want a clean bed and a lock on the door.”
Seth shrugged in a concessionary gesture. “Yeah. I can see how those things would be a necessity in your case.”
Whatever activity they undertook during those sweet, sensual days and nights, it usually never reached full completion because they couldn’t keep their hands off each other and ended up making love.
During that time, she found out that Seth possessed a shockingly accurate photographic memory, something that guaranteed she lost at poker every time they played. She discovered he ate his eggs over easy and liked English period dramas, even though he refused to admit it. He would admit to a penchant for sci-fi and horror movies, which she said she hated. Then she proceeded to grow enraptured with the genre while in the circle of Seth’s arms, listening to him explain the fascinating details of the special effects makeup on the screen. She learned his stamina for both exercise and making love was gargantuan.
They didn’t speak of their relationship beyond the days in the brilliant autumn woods, but instead did as Seth suggested, focusing on what worked between them instead of the obstacles.
And there was so much that did work.
Seth got up from bed one early afternoon, insisting she stay put while he made them a real lunch. They had subsisted almost entirely on easy meals thus far: Sherona’s delicious breads, fruit, eggs and some frozen chicken breasts and vegetables from the freezer that they would replace before they left. She hadn’t eaten all day and was both curious and starved by the time Seth entered the bedroom a half hour later, carrying a large tray.
“I didn’t know you could cook like this,” she said in amazed pleasure as she set aside her book, her gaze caught by the delicious-looking contents of the tray. She sat up against the pillows, drawing the sheet up to her chest, her appetite piqued.
“I’m a single man. If I don’t cook, I starve most nights. It’s nothing fancy,” he downplayed, handing her first a cloth napkin and then a plate.
She disagreed and told him so several times in the midst of wolfing down sesame-citrus halibut, wild rice, green beans and a warmed piece of Sherona’s delicious cinnamon-raisin-walnut bread. This bounty was accompanied by a lovely dry chardonnay.
After Seth had taken her empty plate and glass and set it down, along with his, on the tray, Gia fell back on the pillows in content, sensual lassitude.
“I’m going to make you dinner tonight for payback,” she sighed dreamily, thinking of what she’d stowed away in the locked compartment of her suitcase. She smiled to herself.
“What’s got you looking so smug?” Seth asked.
“Nothing,” she said, meeting his stare. “Thanks again. That was the best meal I’ve ever had.”
Seth gave her that amused, fond glance she was starting to recognize and cherish seeing. “Right. Never a better meal, even though you’ve lived in restaurant meccas like Manhattan and L.A.”
“None of those were made by you,” she said quietly, her cheek on the pillow as she studied him. He was reclining on his hip, elbow bent, his head resting on his hand. Unlike Gia, who was naked under the sheet, he was partially dressed in a pair of black cotton pajama pants that he’d donned before cooking for them. She languorously followed the beautiful upward slant from his narrow waist to his wide chest to his face. “I mean the whole experience, not just the food, although that was delicious. I’m not used to having someone cook for me.”
“Are you a cook yourself?”