Vistaria Has Fallen (The Vistaria Affair/Vistaria Has Fallen #1)(48)

It was a low thing of glass and thick black timbers, bereft of any adobe and nestled into the trees. Behind the flat roof of the house, she saw a waterfall cascading down the side of the mountain.

Nick pulled the Jeep up at the front of the house, where inlaid cement flagstones led right to the front door. He climbed out and strode around to Calli’s side of the car and opened the door. He scooped her up and carried her towards the house.

He pushed the door open with his shoulder—apparently he saw no need to lock his house up—then they were inside a green oasis with raw terracotta tiles and large walls of glass. She saw nothing else before Nick pushed through another door and placed her on a wooden surface. A table.

He moved around the side of the table and bent and kissed her, while his hand ran across her body.

“You are so beautiful.” His lips brushed against hers as he spoke. “I could explore for a decade and not tire of it.” His hand roamed as he spoke. He stared into her eyes and brushed tendrils of hair from her face. “Welcome to my home,” he said gravely.

She gave a tiny laugh. “This is quite a welcome.”

He smiled. “It is a better welcome than most Vistarians extend and we are known for our warmth and generosity.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you,” she said.

The humor faded from his face. “If I considered myself a superstitious man, I would say you have bewitched me, Calli Munro.”

“You are not superstitious?”

“I thought I was a realist. You are teaching me otherwise.” Before she could respond or untangle his meaning, he hugged her tightly, holding still for a breathless moment. She closed her eyes and enjoyed his scent and the heat of his flesh against her cheek and chest. It was a moment she knew would stay with her forever.

Then he let her go and lifted her up and onto her feet. She sighed at the loss of contact.

He picked up her hands. “Realism says we must eat soon and I’m sure you would sell your soul for a shower, yes?”

“Yes!”

He tugged on her hand. “Come.”

She followed him from the dining room. His wide, bare shoulders were complemented by a lean, muscled back and tight waist and hips. He did not have the distorted size and shape of a dedicated body builder, yet he clearly worked his body hard.

The house was made almost entirely of glass between the black pillars and beams. Natural light flooded the house, warming the tiles underfoot and feeding the tubs of plants.

Nick led her into a spacious bedroom. A thick Persian carpet covered the tiles, and a low bed with a dark green quilt nestled right up against the glass wall. The floor of the room lay at the same level as the ground outside, making the room part of the glade.

On the other side of the room another door was set in the only solid part of the wall. Nick crossed over to open it. A bathroom, she realized, when she stepped inside. It was a bathroom with a difference. The wall with the door held the essential plumbing and equipment—sink, toilet, cabinetry. Opaque glass blocks, that had a showerhead and taps inset, made up the far half of the wall to the left. The rest of the room, all of it, was clear glass walls. Thundering down the mountainside, directly outside the wall, was the waterfall she had seen earlier. It was close enough that spray landed against the wall from the impact of the water at the bottom of the stream.

Nick turned on the shower, then tested the water.

“It’s...stunning,” Calli managed.

He glanced over his shoulder at her. “I never tire of it,” he admitted. “I built the house with this one room in mind and the rest just formed around it.” He flicked water at her. “Nice and warm,” he promised.

She undid the leather thong that held her braid and shook out her hair.

Nick watched with narrowed eyes. She had seen that expression before, when she had done something that jolted him into a new perspective that gave him pause for thought.

“You look wild, with your hair loose,” he said. “Why do you tie it up all the time?”

“At home, it’s to keep a professional image. Here, it’s because of the color.” She stripped and stepped into the spray of water and gasped at the heavenly warmth.

Nick frowned.

“Too much realism for you, Nick?” she asked.

His frown deepened. “For this moment, yes,” he said. He removed the last of his own clothing and stepped into the water. He wrapped his arms around her and she felt his head rest against hers. He sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I shouldn’t be so practical.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m the fool, trying to leave the world at the door.”

“You can do that,” she assured him. “We can be what we want, no limits, just for this short while and the rest of the world can go hang. Then after, you can get on with your life and I’ll be safely back in the States.”

“Okay,” he said heavily.

*

Nick left the bathroom before her, explaining that he wanted to start dinner. When she emerged later, wrapped in a big bath sheet, she found her backpack sitting on the end of the bed. Next to it lay a white glossy box.

She walked over to the bed and rummaged through her backpack. She glanced at the box curiously.

“I saw it in my dreams,” Nick said from behind her.

She whirled. He wore blue jeans and a black sweater. Unlike the business suits and shirts she had seen him until now, the sweater emphasized his shoulders.