A Family Affair
Disclaimer: I don't own the Witchblade characters. I'm just playing. Enjoy!
A/N: Owing to the fact that I have yet to figure out how to import formatting when I post on ff.net, I am using asterisks (*) to denote telepathic communication between our favorite couple. Also, I have absolutely no idea if Owls Head Park in Bay Ridge has a hill suitable for sledding. It was the only park that looked like it might be within walking distance of the Siri's home. My apologies to any Brooklynites who know better.
Chapter 47.
Dinner was an enjoyable affair. The food was delicious and the conversation was lively and entertaining. To his parents' delight, Joey volunteered to make a pancake breakfast for everybody the next morning. In addition, a rematch of their snowball fight was scheduled for the following afternoon.
"Ian and me are a team again!" Gina Marie quickly declared.
Her brother frowned, no doubt remembering Ian's range and the precision of his throws. "Okay," he grudgingly agreed. "But since he's still getting over the flu and all, he can only fight for ten minutes again. Right, Aunt Sara?"
Now it was Nottingham who frowned. 'I am not a child, Sara. Let me be the judge of when I've had enough!' he thought, turning an inquiring gaze on her.
Sara quickly swallowed the mouthful of food she'd been chewing, washing it down with a gulp of seltzer. "Uh, I trust Ian to know when he's had enough, so he doesn't have a time limit this time around," she said, then blinked in surprise. 'Where the hell did that come from?' she mused. 'I so don't want to get creamed by Nottingham for any longer than absolutely necessary!' She glanced at Ian and saw that he was very pleased with her pronouncement, judging by the big grin on his handsome face.
He leaned closer to her. "I do believe you read my mind, my Lady," he murmured.
'Literally or figuratively?' Sara thought uneasily, even as she quivered in response to his warm breath on her ear. "Uh, yeah. Right," she muttered aloud.
"Well, if Gina Marie and Ian can be a team, so can we," Paula Siri said, indicating herself and her husband.
"Fair enough," their son mumbled around a bite of food.
"No aiming at faces, Joey and Aunt Sara!" Gina Marie told them sternly.
"Hey, what about Ian?" Sara protested. "He deliberately hit me in the face with a snowball the size of my head!"
"But only after you hit him in the face first," her niece pointed out.
"That was an accident!" Sara claimed.
"Hardly!" Ian snorted. "You yourself said your aim is legendary for its accuracy."
"Well, you got me there," Sara admitted, grinning. "But how was I to know you were gonna turn around when you did? I'll admit I was going for a headshot, but I wasn't aiming for your face!" she told him.
"A likely story." He looked at Gina Marie, who sat to his left. "I think you had better make her promise not to aim at faces or heads, my Lady," he advised her. "Otherwise, somebody's face might 'accidentally' get hit again."
"Not somebody's -- yours," Sara said beneath her breath, knowing full well Nottingham could hear her clearly.
"Good idea," the girl said, grinning. "Aunt Sara, do you promise not to aim at faces or heads?"
Sara rolled her eyes, but acquiesced. "Yes, baby, I promise."
"Make Joseph promise, too," Ian prompted his sister, noticing that the teenager was trying just a little too hard not to be noticed.
"Joey, promise you won't aim at faces or heads," Gina Marie said to her brother, who sat across from her.
"Rats! Foiled again!" Joey grumbled, leveling a mock glare at Ian. "Okay, I promise."
"Accidents do happen, Gina Marie," Paula said. "Especially if you're laughing too hard to throw straight." Meaningfully, she looked across the length of the table at her husband.
"So sue me! I guess I forgot that snowball fights aren't supposed to be fun!" Robert said defensively. "C'mon, you gotta admit that a face full of snow is pretty funny!"
Ian and Gina Marie exchanged looks. "Mommy and Daddy, promise you won't aim at heads or faces," their daughter said solemnly.
Robert put his hand on his heart. "You wound me, daughter!"
"Promise, Daddy," the girl insisted.
"Okay, I promise, but where's the fun in that I ask you?"
"Mommy?"
"What are you, the Snowball Fight Police?" Paula asked her, laughing. "Tell me this: what will happen to me if I violate the rule?"
"The person you hit gets to put a snowball down your back," the girl said promptly.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! I never agreed to that!" Sara said quickly. "That's cruel and unusual punishment!"
"I think it is only fair," Ian said, nodding approvingly at Gina Marie. "Besides, with your pinpoint accuracy, what are you so worried about?" he asked Sara, smirking.
Sara frowned at him. "Did anyone ever tell you that you're a smartass, Nottingham?"
"I believe you have the honor of being the first," he replied, hazel eyes sparkling with amusement.
A slow grin crept over Sara's face. "Hmmm, that makes twice in one day," she said huskily.
Ian blinked. A moment later, his cheeks reddened as he got her meaning. "Indeed," he murmured, lowering his gaze bashfully.
"Hey, Dad, wanna go sledding tomorrow after breakfast?" Joey asked his father.
"Where were you thinking of going? It has to be someplace within walking distance. No way we can get to Prospect Park for a couple of days yet," Robert said.
"Owls Head Park. The hill there isn't awesome, but it's decent."
"Okay, I'm game. But just for an hour. I've got to save up my energy for the snowball fight."
"Could I come, too, Daddy?" Gina Marie asked.
"Sure, Sweetie," her dad said. "I'll even pull you on the sled there and back."
"Cool!"
"Do you like sledding, Ian?" Joey asked him.
"I must admit that I have never gone sledding. There were no suitable hills in the neighborhood where I grew up," Nottingham replied, neglecting to mention that even had there been, he would have been forbidden to join in the fun. His father had not approved of such childish pursuits.
"Well, you're not going on your maiden voyage tomorrow, Nottingham," Sara said firmly. "Even on smallish hills there's always a chance that you could crash into a tree or someone could crash into you. You're banged up enough as it is."
"Could I at least observe the activities, Sara?" he asked wistfully, enormous green-shot light-brown eyes imploring her.
'God! How can I resist that puppy-dog look?' Sara thought. 'Better yet, how the heck did he ever become an assassin with those eyes?' "I guess that would be all right," she acceded. "But I better not find out that you went sledding down that hill!"
"Aren't you gonna come along, Aunt Sara?" her nephew asked her.
"No, I think I'll hang out here with your mom," Sara told him. She noticed that a slight frown had appeared between Ian's dark brows at her words. She leaned over and rubbed his right forearm gently. "Don't worry, my Protector, we won't be parted long," she whispered, deliberately echoing something he'd once said to her. Had it really only been a few days ago? It felt like a lifetime.
"'If the dull substance of my flesh were thought, injurious distance should not stop my way,'" he said softly, grasping her hand and bringing it to his mouth.
A fine tremor went through Sara's body at the touch of his warm lips, and her pulse sped up. "I love it when you talk dirty to me," she grinned, cupping his face with her hand.
He turned his head and pressed another kiss into her palm. "Do you suppose anyone would notice if we disappeared for a while?" he asked her in a low voice, eyes smoldering with desire.
"We never did take that tour of the house, did we?" Sara said in a louder voice, standing up.
"No, we did not," Ian agreed, also rising.
"Let's start upstairs," she suggested. "If we're not back in half an hour, don't send out a search party," Sara told her family, smirking. She and Ian left the dining room hand in hand.
"Something tells me they're not gonna get further than the guest room," Robert commented wryly.
Smiling, his wife nodded her head in agreement. "That'll probably be the first stop on the tour."
"Duh!" Gina Marie interjected pithily. "They've only been making lovey-dovey eyes at each other all night!"
"Ah, young love," Joey sighed dreamily, and then grinned irrepressibly. "What's for dessert?"
*****
When she and Ian reached the top of the stairs, Sara gestured vaguely down the hallway to the left. "The kids' rooms and their bathroom are down there." She turned and headed in the opposite direction, pulling Ian along behind her. "That's the master bedroom," she nodded toward an open door across from them, "and this," she opened a door at the end of the hall, "is the guest room."
"Hmmm, I see it has a bed," Ian murmured, after glancing around the warm, inviting room, which was tastefully decorated with neutral colors and reproductions of famous works by various impressionist artists.
Sara grinned. "Why, yes, it does! How very observant of you, Nottingham." She reached for the buckles on his sling. "Let's just get this off of you for a little while, shall we?"
"Gladly," he breathed, inhaling her intoxicating scent. His body thrummed with desire, and he wondered idly if the intensity of his need for her would ever abate. Somehow, he didn't think so.
"There." Tossing aside the sling, Sara drew back and looked up at Ian. "Are you okay with just making out? I, um, don't feel comfortable doing anything more when there are impressionable youngsters within earshot."
"Your caution is understandable, my Lady," he acquiesced. "Your cries of passion would undoubtedly carry."
Sara's dark brows rose incredulously. "My cries of passion?"
He nodded, completely serious. "Perhaps you do not realize how loud you are whilst in the throes of le petit mort."
"Uh, let me clue you in on something, cowboy: When you come, you yell loud enough to wake the dead," Sara informed him.
Ian blinked. "I was unaware of that fact," he murmured, coloring.
"Ya-hunh. But before you go and get a complex about it, I should tell you that I kinda like it that you're so vocal," she told him. "It sorta adds to the experience."
Unable to refrain from touching him any longer, Sara reached up and threaded her fingers through his long, curly, dark hair, gently cupping the back of his well-shaped head. "So, you make me scream, hunh? Score a first for you, lover," she whispered, standing on her tiptoes and offering her mouth to him.
For the next half hour, they indulged in a thoroughly enjoyable, if not satisfying, make-out session. By the time they rejoined the Siri family, the kids were ensconced in the family room downstairs watching television, and Robert had set up the card table in the living room.
*****
Just as Sara had anticipated, Ian Nottingham mastered bid whist with astonishing swiftness. The rules only had to be explained to him once before the couples partnered up and play commenced.
Sara peered over her cards at her partner, willing him to figure out that she held six hearts in her hand. She groaned inwardly when Ian bid five uptown. That meant they were probably going to bump heads. Abruptly, she recalled what Gabriel had told her about past Wielders and their Protectors being able to communicate telepathically.
'Is Nottingham my mate?' she wondered cagily. 'Does the fact that we're gonna be parents mean I've chosen him as my mate? Hmmm. Definitely food for thought. But first things first. What the heck is he holding?' She narrowed her eyes and concentrated on trying to read Ian's mind.
"Sara!"
She started as her brother said her name sharply, realizing from his tone that it wasn't the first time he'd said it.
"What?"
"I said it's your bid. Where did your brain go?" Robert asked curiously. But then he glanced across the table at Ian and shook his head, grinning. "Never mind. Forget I asked."
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Robbie! I so wasn't thinking about jumping Ian's bones!" Sara protested, drawing startled looks from both Nottingham and Paula.
"If you say so," her brother murmured. "So, what's your bid? Sara!" he exclaimed exasperatedly, when, instead of answering, all she did was stare lustfully at Ian.
"Oh! Sorry! That time I was thinking about jumping his bones!" she said, grinning. "I bid six uptown."
"Oh, ho! Outbidding your partner! Never a good strategy," Paula commented.
'I would have bid even higher if Nottingham had clued into what I was thinking,' Sara thought sourly. 'He's got to have at least a couple of hearts in his hand.'
*I don't cheat.*
Sara jumped. "What'd you say?" she blurted out.
"Nobody said anything, Sara," Robert said, eying her. "Are you sure you didn't raid the liquor cabinet when I wasn't looking?"
"Uh, no. I thought somebody said something to me, that's all," Sara muttered.
"Well, you're the high bidder," Paula informed her, handing her the kitty. "So, what's the trump?"
"Hearts," she said, staring hard at Ian, who kept his eyes on his cards. But she saw that one of his patented almost-smiles was playing about his full lips.
*That's so not funny, Nottingham! You scared the crap out of me!* Sara thought furiously at him.
He winced. *There's no need to shout, my love,* he replied, which nearly caused her to fall out of her seat in shock.
"Ian, are you feeling all right?" Paula asked, noticing his discomfort.
"Yes. My shoulder twinged," Ian said. "I think I overdid it today." He finally raised his eyes and met Sara's wide ones. *Especially in the bedroom.*
*This is really freaking me out, Nottingham!* Sara raised a shaking hand to her temple.
*Is it? And yet mere moments ago you were eager to try to use this ability to cheat.*
She frowned. *I was only experimenting. I don't normally cheat.*
"Uh, Sara, you lead off," Robert said, wondering why she was scowling so fiercely at her partner.
Distractedly, she threw down a card, failing to notice when Paula and Robert won the book. The "voice" in her head was instantly recognizable as Ian's, but it didn't "sound" like his speaking voice. It was less formal and more expressive, as though shaded by his emotions on a far deeper level than his spoken voice could ever be.
*Maybe you'd better concentrate on the game, Sara. We'll discuss this development later, okay?*
*Are you saying I can't carry on a telepathic conversation and play cards at the same time?* she bristled.
*Judging by the last two cards you've played, no, you can't,* he told her.
It was only then Sara realized that she'd let Robert and Paula win the last couple of books uncontested.
*Well, I'm new at this!* she muttered. *Can't we cheat just this once?* she asked plaintively.
*Just this once,* Ian acquiesced, and suddenly an image of his hand flashed across her mind's eye.
*Oh, goody! You've got two hearts and the high joker!* Sara said gleefully.
They won the game handily. In fact, they won most of the games. It took Sara a while to realize that Ian was counting cards.
*Hey! I thought you didn't cheat!* she admonished him.
*Everybody counts cards, Sara,* he informed her. *However, few people are as good at it as me.*
*Still, some people -- mainly casino operators -- would consider that cheating.*
*True. But it's something that I've discovered I do automatically. I don't mean to count, I just do.*
*Well, I'm not complaining or anything,* Sara told him. *If you haven't figured it out by now, I gotta tell you that I really hate losing.*
*I had noticed that aspect of your personality,* Ian said dryly. *Um, Sara, I'm new to card playing, so I'm unfamiliar with what level of conversation is acceptable during play, but you do realize that we haven't spoken aloud for some time, don't you? I may be wrong, but I think our rather grim silence is beginning to make your brother and sister-in-law uncomfortable.*
Abruptly, Sara realized that for the past several minutes, Robert and Paula had been making increasingly stilted small talk while she and Ian had been either staring mutely at their cards or making prolonged eye contact with each other. She cleared her throat self-consciously. "Uh, so when do you think the city will get around to plowing your street, Robbie?" she inquired.
"Not for a couple of days, according to the news. Tertiary roads like ours are the last priority. And the city already announced that the public schools won't reopen until after Thanksgiving," her brother told her.
'Good,' Sara thought. 'That means Irons won't be able to send someone after Ian for a little while longer, even if he has figured out where we are by now.' But she was all too aware that their refuge would eventually be compromised.
*Ian, what will --*
*Now is neither the time nor the place to have this discussion, my Lady,* he interrupted her. *I will answer your question when we are alone.*
"I am sorry that I cannot help you shovel the driveway, Robert," Ian said to his host. "I realize you must do almost twice the work because of my vehicle."
"Don't worry about it, Ian. I'm sure Sara won't mind helping out," her brother said with a smirk.
"Yeah, right," Sara murmured. She stretched, yawning. "I think we should call it a night after this hand, Ian. It's late and I'm beat."
"I, too, am fatigued," Nottingham agreed. "Thank you both for a wonderful evening, Robert and Paula. Dinner was delicious, and I very much enjoyed playing bid whist."
"No wonder! The way you guys whipped us, I gotta wonder if you two aren't mind readers!" Paula said, laughing.
"Beginner's luck," Sara said, keeping her face straight with an effort. "Right, Ian?"
"Most assuredly," he murmured. "Perhaps you would care for a rematch?"
"Well, you're both invited over for dinner and a movie tomorrow night," Robert said. "I'm making my famous lasagna. If you're not too tired, you could stick around for a couple of hands after the movie."
"Deal!" Sara said, winning the last book and the hand. She stood up, realizing that she was truly weary. When Ian rose, she went to him and put her arms around his waist. "You're in for a treat, Nottingham," she said, smiling up at him. "Although I'll deny it if you ever tell her I said this, Robbie's lasagna is even better than Marie's."
Ian's right arm went around Sara. "Your secret is safe with me, my love," he told her. Bending his head, he kissed her lingeringly.
"Uh, goodnight, guys," Robbie said, closing up the card table.
"I'll lock up, hon," Paula told him, a look of amusement on her face as she observed the oblivious, lip-locked couple. "Could you check on the kids? Gina Marie has probably fallen asleep on the couch by now."
"Sure. I'll take her up to bed." He put the card table away, and started to head for the door to the basement, but then paused, glancing at Sara and Ian. "Should we maybe throw some cold water on them?" he suggested to his wife.
"I heard that," Sara said breathlessly, reluctantly breaking off the kiss. "Say goodnight to Joey and Gina Marie for us, Robbie."
"Will do. Goodnight, folks," Robert said again, grinning. He disappeared downstairs.
*You are some kisser, Nottingham!*
*I aim to please, my Lady.*
Arm in arm, they headed toward the kitchen, Paula trailing them. In the coat room, Sara helped Ian into his coat before putting her own on.
"What time should we get here for breakfast tomorrow morning, Paula?" she asked her sister-in-law.
"I figure 9:00-9:30 should be fine," she replied, opening the outer door.
"Goodnight, Paula. And thank you again for a wonderful meal," Ian said, stepping outside before Sara, who noticed that his sharp eyes automatically began to scan their snow-covered surroundings.
"You're welcome. See you both in the morning!" She closed and locked the door behind them.
"Brrrr," Sara murmured. "It's freezing out!" She hurried toward the stairs leading up to the entrance to the garage apartment.
Ian followed more slowly, his gaze alertly searching the shadows. As he started up the stairs, his sharp hearing picked up the sound of a snow plow in the near distance, and he heaved a weary sigh. Soon, the street in front of the Siri house would be cleared, which meant there would no longer be any obstacle keeping the team of men Kenneth Irons had undoubtedly assembled from attempting to retrieve him. It saddened him greatly that Sara's and his respite was coming to an end.
This past day had been the happiest of his life, and he didn't want it to end on a bitter note. However, he knew without a shadow of doubt that Sara would pursue the line of questioning she'd begun while they'd been playing cards, probably the moment he stepped through the door of the apartment. Ian also knew that there was only one way such a discussion could end: badly.
More to come. Thanks for all of the wonderful feedback that I've received. You are the reason I've been able to keep this story going. Obviously, I, too, am reluctant for the lovers' idyll to end. I couldn't bring myself to get down to the nitty-gritty in this chapter!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Witchblade characters. I'm just playing. Enjoy!
A/N: Owing to the fact that I have yet to figure out how to import formatting when I post on ff.net, I am using asterisks (*) to denote telepathic communication between our favorite couple. Also, I have absolutely no idea if Owls Head Park in Bay Ridge has a hill suitable for sledding. It was the only park that looked like it might be within walking distance of the Siri's home. My apologies to any Brooklynites who know better.
Chapter 47.
Dinner was an enjoyable affair. The food was delicious and the conversation was lively and entertaining. To his parents' delight, Joey volunteered to make a pancake breakfast for everybody the next morning. In addition, a rematch of their snowball fight was scheduled for the following afternoon.
"Ian and me are a team again!" Gina Marie quickly declared.
Her brother frowned, no doubt remembering Ian's range and the precision of his throws. "Okay," he grudgingly agreed. "But since he's still getting over the flu and all, he can only fight for ten minutes again. Right, Aunt Sara?"
Now it was Nottingham who frowned. 'I am not a child, Sara. Let me be the judge of when I've had enough!' he thought, turning an inquiring gaze on her.
Sara quickly swallowed the mouthful of food she'd been chewing, washing it down with a gulp of seltzer. "Uh, I trust Ian to know when he's had enough, so he doesn't have a time limit this time around," she said, then blinked in surprise. 'Where the hell did that come from?' she mused. 'I so don't want to get creamed by Nottingham for any longer than absolutely necessary!' She glanced at Ian and saw that he was very pleased with her pronouncement, judging by the big grin on his handsome face.
He leaned closer to her. "I do believe you read my mind, my Lady," he murmured.
'Literally or figuratively?' Sara thought uneasily, even as she quivered in response to his warm breath on her ear. "Uh, yeah. Right," she muttered aloud.
"Well, if Gina Marie and Ian can be a team, so can we," Paula Siri said, indicating herself and her husband.
"Fair enough," their son mumbled around a bite of food.
"No aiming at faces, Joey and Aunt Sara!" Gina Marie told them sternly.
"Hey, what about Ian?" Sara protested. "He deliberately hit me in the face with a snowball the size of my head!"
"But only after you hit him in the face first," her niece pointed out.
"That was an accident!" Sara claimed.
"Hardly!" Ian snorted. "You yourself said your aim is legendary for its accuracy."
"Well, you got me there," Sara admitted, grinning. "But how was I to know you were gonna turn around when you did? I'll admit I was going for a headshot, but I wasn't aiming for your face!" she told him.
"A likely story." He looked at Gina Marie, who sat to his left. "I think you had better make her promise not to aim at faces or heads, my Lady," he advised her. "Otherwise, somebody's face might 'accidentally' get hit again."
"Not somebody's -- yours," Sara said beneath her breath, knowing full well Nottingham could hear her clearly.
"Good idea," the girl said, grinning. "Aunt Sara, do you promise not to aim at faces or heads?"
Sara rolled her eyes, but acquiesced. "Yes, baby, I promise."
"Make Joseph promise, too," Ian prompted his sister, noticing that the teenager was trying just a little too hard not to be noticed.
"Joey, promise you won't aim at faces or heads," Gina Marie said to her brother, who sat across from her.
"Rats! Foiled again!" Joey grumbled, leveling a mock glare at Ian. "Okay, I promise."
"Accidents do happen, Gina Marie," Paula said. "Especially if you're laughing too hard to throw straight." Meaningfully, she looked across the length of the table at her husband.
"So sue me! I guess I forgot that snowball fights aren't supposed to be fun!" Robert said defensively. "C'mon, you gotta admit that a face full of snow is pretty funny!"
Ian and Gina Marie exchanged looks. "Mommy and Daddy, promise you won't aim at heads or faces," their daughter said solemnly.
Robert put his hand on his heart. "You wound me, daughter!"
"Promise, Daddy," the girl insisted.
"Okay, I promise, but where's the fun in that I ask you?"
"Mommy?"
"What are you, the Snowball Fight Police?" Paula asked her, laughing. "Tell me this: what will happen to me if I violate the rule?"
"The person you hit gets to put a snowball down your back," the girl said promptly.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! I never agreed to that!" Sara said quickly. "That's cruel and unusual punishment!"
"I think it is only fair," Ian said, nodding approvingly at Gina Marie. "Besides, with your pinpoint accuracy, what are you so worried about?" he asked Sara, smirking.
Sara frowned at him. "Did anyone ever tell you that you're a smartass, Nottingham?"
"I believe you have the honor of being the first," he replied, hazel eyes sparkling with amusement.
A slow grin crept over Sara's face. "Hmmm, that makes twice in one day," she said huskily.
Ian blinked. A moment later, his cheeks reddened as he got her meaning. "Indeed," he murmured, lowering his gaze bashfully.
"Hey, Dad, wanna go sledding tomorrow after breakfast?" Joey asked his father.
"Where were you thinking of going? It has to be someplace within walking distance. No way we can get to Prospect Park for a couple of days yet," Robert said.
"Owls Head Park. The hill there isn't awesome, but it's decent."
"Okay, I'm game. But just for an hour. I've got to save up my energy for the snowball fight."
"Could I come, too, Daddy?" Gina Marie asked.
"Sure, Sweetie," her dad said. "I'll even pull you on the sled there and back."
"Cool!"
"Do you like sledding, Ian?" Joey asked him.
"I must admit that I have never gone sledding. There were no suitable hills in the neighborhood where I grew up," Nottingham replied, neglecting to mention that even had there been, he would have been forbidden to join in the fun. His father had not approved of such childish pursuits.
"Well, you're not going on your maiden voyage tomorrow, Nottingham," Sara said firmly. "Even on smallish hills there's always a chance that you could crash into a tree or someone could crash into you. You're banged up enough as it is."
"Could I at least observe the activities, Sara?" he asked wistfully, enormous green-shot light-brown eyes imploring her.
'God! How can I resist that puppy-dog look?' Sara thought. 'Better yet, how the heck did he ever become an assassin with those eyes?' "I guess that would be all right," she acceded. "But I better not find out that you went sledding down that hill!"
"Aren't you gonna come along, Aunt Sara?" her nephew asked her.
"No, I think I'll hang out here with your mom," Sara told him. She noticed that a slight frown had appeared between Ian's dark brows at her words. She leaned over and rubbed his right forearm gently. "Don't worry, my Protector, we won't be parted long," she whispered, deliberately echoing something he'd once said to her. Had it really only been a few days ago? It felt like a lifetime.
"'If the dull substance of my flesh were thought, injurious distance should not stop my way,'" he said softly, grasping her hand and bringing it to his mouth.
A fine tremor went through Sara's body at the touch of his warm lips, and her pulse sped up. "I love it when you talk dirty to me," she grinned, cupping his face with her hand.
He turned his head and pressed another kiss into her palm. "Do you suppose anyone would notice if we disappeared for a while?" he asked her in a low voice, eyes smoldering with desire.
"We never did take that tour of the house, did we?" Sara said in a louder voice, standing up.
"No, we did not," Ian agreed, also rising.
"Let's start upstairs," she suggested. "If we're not back in half an hour, don't send out a search party," Sara told her family, smirking. She and Ian left the dining room hand in hand.
"Something tells me they're not gonna get further than the guest room," Robert commented wryly.
Smiling, his wife nodded her head in agreement. "That'll probably be the first stop on the tour."
"Duh!" Gina Marie interjected pithily. "They've only been making lovey-dovey eyes at each other all night!"
"Ah, young love," Joey sighed dreamily, and then grinned irrepressibly. "What's for dessert?"
*****
When she and Ian reached the top of the stairs, Sara gestured vaguely down the hallway to the left. "The kids' rooms and their bathroom are down there." She turned and headed in the opposite direction, pulling Ian along behind her. "That's the master bedroom," she nodded toward an open door across from them, "and this," she opened a door at the end of the hall, "is the guest room."
"Hmmm, I see it has a bed," Ian murmured, after glancing around the warm, inviting room, which was tastefully decorated with neutral colors and reproductions of famous works by various impressionist artists.
Sara grinned. "Why, yes, it does! How very observant of you, Nottingham." She reached for the buckles on his sling. "Let's just get this off of you for a little while, shall we?"
"Gladly," he breathed, inhaling her intoxicating scent. His body thrummed with desire, and he wondered idly if the intensity of his need for her would ever abate. Somehow, he didn't think so.
"There." Tossing aside the sling, Sara drew back and looked up at Ian. "Are you okay with just making out? I, um, don't feel comfortable doing anything more when there are impressionable youngsters within earshot."
"Your caution is understandable, my Lady," he acquiesced. "Your cries of passion would undoubtedly carry."
Sara's dark brows rose incredulously. "My cries of passion?"
He nodded, completely serious. "Perhaps you do not realize how loud you are whilst in the throes of le petit mort."
"Uh, let me clue you in on something, cowboy: When you come, you yell loud enough to wake the dead," Sara informed him.
Ian blinked. "I was unaware of that fact," he murmured, coloring.
"Ya-hunh. But before you go and get a complex about it, I should tell you that I kinda like it that you're so vocal," she told him. "It sorta adds to the experience."
Unable to refrain from touching him any longer, Sara reached up and threaded her fingers through his long, curly, dark hair, gently cupping the back of his well-shaped head. "So, you make me scream, hunh? Score a first for you, lover," she whispered, standing on her tiptoes and offering her mouth to him.
For the next half hour, they indulged in a thoroughly enjoyable, if not satisfying, make-out session. By the time they rejoined the Siri family, the kids were ensconced in the family room downstairs watching television, and Robert had set up the card table in the living room.
*****
Just as Sara had anticipated, Ian Nottingham mastered bid whist with astonishing swiftness. The rules only had to be explained to him once before the couples partnered up and play commenced.
Sara peered over her cards at her partner, willing him to figure out that she held six hearts in her hand. She groaned inwardly when Ian bid five uptown. That meant they were probably going to bump heads. Abruptly, she recalled what Gabriel had told her about past Wielders and their Protectors being able to communicate telepathically.
'Is Nottingham my mate?' she wondered cagily. 'Does the fact that we're gonna be parents mean I've chosen him as my mate? Hmmm. Definitely food for thought. But first things first. What the heck is he holding?' She narrowed her eyes and concentrated on trying to read Ian's mind.
"Sara!"
She started as her brother said her name sharply, realizing from his tone that it wasn't the first time he'd said it.
"What?"
"I said it's your bid. Where did your brain go?" Robert asked curiously. But then he glanced across the table at Ian and shook his head, grinning. "Never mind. Forget I asked."
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Robbie! I so wasn't thinking about jumping Ian's bones!" Sara protested, drawing startled looks from both Nottingham and Paula.
"If you say so," her brother murmured. "So, what's your bid? Sara!" he exclaimed exasperatedly, when, instead of answering, all she did was stare lustfully at Ian.
"Oh! Sorry! That time I was thinking about jumping his bones!" she said, grinning. "I bid six uptown."
"Oh, ho! Outbidding your partner! Never a good strategy," Paula commented.
'I would have bid even higher if Nottingham had clued into what I was thinking,' Sara thought sourly. 'He's got to have at least a couple of hearts in his hand.'
*I don't cheat.*
Sara jumped. "What'd you say?" she blurted out.
"Nobody said anything, Sara," Robert said, eying her. "Are you sure you didn't raid the liquor cabinet when I wasn't looking?"
"Uh, no. I thought somebody said something to me, that's all," Sara muttered.
"Well, you're the high bidder," Paula informed her, handing her the kitty. "So, what's the trump?"
"Hearts," she said, staring hard at Ian, who kept his eyes on his cards. But she saw that one of his patented almost-smiles was playing about his full lips.
*That's so not funny, Nottingham! You scared the crap out of me!* Sara thought furiously at him.
He winced. *There's no need to shout, my love,* he replied, which nearly caused her to fall out of her seat in shock.
"Ian, are you feeling all right?" Paula asked, noticing his discomfort.
"Yes. My shoulder twinged," Ian said. "I think I overdid it today." He finally raised his eyes and met Sara's wide ones. *Especially in the bedroom.*
*This is really freaking me out, Nottingham!* Sara raised a shaking hand to her temple.
*Is it? And yet mere moments ago you were eager to try to use this ability to cheat.*
She frowned. *I was only experimenting. I don't normally cheat.*
"Uh, Sara, you lead off," Robert said, wondering why she was scowling so fiercely at her partner.
Distractedly, she threw down a card, failing to notice when Paula and Robert won the book. The "voice" in her head was instantly recognizable as Ian's, but it didn't "sound" like his speaking voice. It was less formal and more expressive, as though shaded by his emotions on a far deeper level than his spoken voice could ever be.
*Maybe you'd better concentrate on the game, Sara. We'll discuss this development later, okay?*
*Are you saying I can't carry on a telepathic conversation and play cards at the same time?* she bristled.
*Judging by the last two cards you've played, no, you can't,* he told her.
It was only then Sara realized that she'd let Robert and Paula win the last couple of books uncontested.
*Well, I'm new at this!* she muttered. *Can't we cheat just this once?* she asked plaintively.
*Just this once,* Ian acquiesced, and suddenly an image of his hand flashed across her mind's eye.
*Oh, goody! You've got two hearts and the high joker!* Sara said gleefully.
They won the game handily. In fact, they won most of the games. It took Sara a while to realize that Ian was counting cards.
*Hey! I thought you didn't cheat!* she admonished him.
*Everybody counts cards, Sara,* he informed her. *However, few people are as good at it as me.*
*Still, some people -- mainly casino operators -- would consider that cheating.*
*True. But it's something that I've discovered I do automatically. I don't mean to count, I just do.*
*Well, I'm not complaining or anything,* Sara told him. *If you haven't figured it out by now, I gotta tell you that I really hate losing.*
*I had noticed that aspect of your personality,* Ian said dryly. *Um, Sara, I'm new to card playing, so I'm unfamiliar with what level of conversation is acceptable during play, but you do realize that we haven't spoken aloud for some time, don't you? I may be wrong, but I think our rather grim silence is beginning to make your brother and sister-in-law uncomfortable.*
Abruptly, Sara realized that for the past several minutes, Robert and Paula had been making increasingly stilted small talk while she and Ian had been either staring mutely at their cards or making prolonged eye contact with each other. She cleared her throat self-consciously. "Uh, so when do you think the city will get around to plowing your street, Robbie?" she inquired.
"Not for a couple of days, according to the news. Tertiary roads like ours are the last priority. And the city already announced that the public schools won't reopen until after Thanksgiving," her brother told her.
'Good,' Sara thought. 'That means Irons won't be able to send someone after Ian for a little while longer, even if he has figured out where we are by now.' But she was all too aware that their refuge would eventually be compromised.
*Ian, what will --*
*Now is neither the time nor the place to have this discussion, my Lady,* he interrupted her. *I will answer your question when we are alone.*
"I am sorry that I cannot help you shovel the driveway, Robert," Ian said to his host. "I realize you must do almost twice the work because of my vehicle."
"Don't worry about it, Ian. I'm sure Sara won't mind helping out," her brother said with a smirk.
"Yeah, right," Sara murmured. She stretched, yawning. "I think we should call it a night after this hand, Ian. It's late and I'm beat."
"I, too, am fatigued," Nottingham agreed. "Thank you both for a wonderful evening, Robert and Paula. Dinner was delicious, and I very much enjoyed playing bid whist."
"No wonder! The way you guys whipped us, I gotta wonder if you two aren't mind readers!" Paula said, laughing.
"Beginner's luck," Sara said, keeping her face straight with an effort. "Right, Ian?"
"Most assuredly," he murmured. "Perhaps you would care for a rematch?"
"Well, you're both invited over for dinner and a movie tomorrow night," Robert said. "I'm making my famous lasagna. If you're not too tired, you could stick around for a couple of hands after the movie."
"Deal!" Sara said, winning the last book and the hand. She stood up, realizing that she was truly weary. When Ian rose, she went to him and put her arms around his waist. "You're in for a treat, Nottingham," she said, smiling up at him. "Although I'll deny it if you ever tell her I said this, Robbie's lasagna is even better than Marie's."
Ian's right arm went around Sara. "Your secret is safe with me, my love," he told her. Bending his head, he kissed her lingeringly.
"Uh, goodnight, guys," Robbie said, closing up the card table.
"I'll lock up, hon," Paula told him, a look of amusement on her face as she observed the oblivious, lip-locked couple. "Could you check on the kids? Gina Marie has probably fallen asleep on the couch by now."
"Sure. I'll take her up to bed." He put the card table away, and started to head for the door to the basement, but then paused, glancing at Sara and Ian. "Should we maybe throw some cold water on them?" he suggested to his wife.
"I heard that," Sara said breathlessly, reluctantly breaking off the kiss. "Say goodnight to Joey and Gina Marie for us, Robbie."
"Will do. Goodnight, folks," Robert said again, grinning. He disappeared downstairs.
*You are some kisser, Nottingham!*
*I aim to please, my Lady.*
Arm in arm, they headed toward the kitchen, Paula trailing them. In the coat room, Sara helped Ian into his coat before putting her own on.
"What time should we get here for breakfast tomorrow morning, Paula?" she asked her sister-in-law.
"I figure 9:00-9:30 should be fine," she replied, opening the outer door.
"Goodnight, Paula. And thank you again for a wonderful meal," Ian said, stepping outside before Sara, who noticed that his sharp eyes automatically began to scan their snow-covered surroundings.
"You're welcome. See you both in the morning!" She closed and locked the door behind them.
"Brrrr," Sara murmured. "It's freezing out!" She hurried toward the stairs leading up to the entrance to the garage apartment.
Ian followed more slowly, his gaze alertly searching the shadows. As he started up the stairs, his sharp hearing picked up the sound of a snow plow in the near distance, and he heaved a weary sigh. Soon, the street in front of the Siri house would be cleared, which meant there would no longer be any obstacle keeping the team of men Kenneth Irons had undoubtedly assembled from attempting to retrieve him. It saddened him greatly that Sara's and his respite was coming to an end.
This past day had been the happiest of his life, and he didn't want it to end on a bitter note. However, he knew without a shadow of doubt that Sara would pursue the line of questioning she'd begun while they'd been playing cards, probably the moment he stepped through the door of the apartment. Ian also knew that there was only one way such a discussion could end: badly.
More to come. Thanks for all of the wonderful feedback that I've received. You are the reason I've been able to keep this story going. Obviously, I, too, am reluctant for the lovers' idyll to end. I couldn't bring myself to get down to the nitty-gritty in this chapter!