Careless in Red (Inspector Lynley, #15)(184)

He had no kit at Adventures Unlimited. No clobber, no gear, no anything. But he told himself that he would check each room he’d been in during his very brief time in the employ of the Kernes because one never knew where one had left a possession and after this, it would be a bit uncomfortable for him to have to come by and pick up anything he might have left behind….

Room after room. Door opened, a quick look inside, door closed. A quiet, “Hullo. Anyone in here?” as if he expected his supposed forgotten possessions to speak. He finally found her on the top floor, where the family lived, where he could have gone at once had he been practising honesty with himself, which he was not.

She was in Santo’s bedroom. At least, Cadan assumed that it was Santo’s bedroom by the surfing posters, the single bed, the pile of T-shirts on a chair, and the pair of trainers that Dellen Kerne was caressing on her lap when Cadan opened the door.

She was all in black, jersey and trousers and a band holding her blond hair off her face. She had on no makeup, and a scratch marked her cheek. Her feet were bare. She was sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were closed.

Cadan said, “Hey,” in what he hoped was a gentle voice.

She opened her eyes. They fixed on him, the pupils so large that the violet of her irises was nearly obscured. She dropped the trainers to the floor with a soft thud. She held out her hand.

He went to her and helped her to her feet. He saw she had nothing on beneath her jersey. Her nipples were large, round, and rigid. He stirred at this. For once, he admitted the truth to himself. This was why he’d come to Adventures Unlimited. Jago’s advice and the rest of the world be damned.

He grazed the tip of her nipple with his fingers. Her eyelids lowered but did not close. He knew it was safe to continue. He took a step to be nearer. A hand on her waist and then circling round, cupping her bum while the other hand’s fingers stayed where they were and played like feathers against her. He bent to kiss her. Her mouth opened willingly beneath his and he pulled her more firmly against him so that she would feel what he wanted her to feel.

He said when he could, “That key you had yesterday.”

She didn’t reply. He knew she knew what he was talking about because her mouth lifted to his once more.

He kissed her. Long and deeply and it went on and on till he thought his eyeballs might pop from his head and his eardrums might burst. His slamming heart needed some place to go besides his chest because if it didn’t find another home, he reckoned he could die on the spot. He ground against her. He began to ache.

He broke away from her and said, “The beach huts. You had a key. We can’t. Not here.” Not in the family quarters and certainly not in Santo’s room. It was indecent, somehow.

“Can’t what?” She leaned her forehead against his chest.

“You know. Yesterday when we were in the kitchen, you had a key. You said it was for one of the beach huts. Let’s use it.”

“For what?”

What the hell did she think? Was she the sort who liked it said outright? Well, he could do that. “I want to f*ck you,” he said. “And you want to be f*cked. But not in here. In one of the beach huts.”

“Why?”

“Because…It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

“Jesus. Yeah. This is Santo’s room, right? And anyway his dad might come in.” He couldn’t bring himself to say your husband. “And if that happens…” She could see it, couldn’t she? What was wrong with her?

“Santo’s dad,” she said.

“If he walks in on us…” This was ridiculous. He didn’t need to explain. He didn’t want to explain. He was ready and he thought she was ready and to have to talk about all of the whys and wherefores…Obviously, she wasn’t yet hot enough for him. He went for her again. Mouth on nipple this time, through the jersey, a gentle pull with his teeth, a flicking of the tongue. Back to her mouth and drawing her near and it was odd that she wasn’t doing much in turn but did that really matter? “Jesus. Get that key,” he murmured.

“Santo’s dad,” she said. “He won’t come here.”

“How can you be sure?” Cadan examined her more closely. She appeared to be marginally out of it, but even so it seemed to him that she ought to know they were in her son’s room and her husband’s house. On the other hand, she wasn’t exactly looking at him now and he didn’t know if she’d actually seen him?as in registering his presence?when she had looked at him.

“He won’t,” she said. “He might want to, but he can’t.”

“Babe, you’re not making sense.”

She murmured, “I knew what I ought to do, but he’s my rock, you see, and there was a chance. So I took it. Because I loved him. I knew what was important. I knew.”

Cadan was flummoxed. More, he was fast deflating, losing ground with her and with the moment. Still, he said, “Dell…Dellen…Babe,” to coax her. She’d spoken well of chances because if there was the slightest chance that he could still get her down to the beach huts, he was willing to go for it.

He took her hand. He lifted it to his mouth. He ran his tongue across her palm. He said huskily, “What d’you say, Dell? What about that key?”

Her reply was, “Who are you? What are you doing here?”