Riding the Red Ch. 05

Lucas turned to search the kitchen and pantry, gathering the ingredients for her. After he had it all assembled, she went to work. As she was rolling out the dough, he poked it a few times. "What are you, six?" she asked.

"Hey, I'm a guy, I like poking soft things," he retorted, grinning.

She finished putting the biscuits onto the cookie sheet. "Well, poke these into the fridge, will you? We'll leave them in there until the chicken is almost done." She silently watched him as he did what she asked. "Lucas," she said suddenly, "What do you do when you're not rescuing damsels in distress."

He paused, then said smoothly, "As I said, I have many talents. I work for people who need to get things done," He turned to face her. "A maverick-for-hire, as it were."

"How interesting," she said politely. "Tell me," here she paused delicately, "just what are some of the things that you've been hired to do?"

"A tid of this, and a bit of that," he replied evasively. At her raised eyebrow, he gave a long-suffering sigh. "I...find people. I protect people. I've even been known to fix people, here and there."

Adrienne looked him over, saying, "You...hunt people."

Lucas bit out his answer. "Yes."

Adrienne's voice was soft now as she asked, "And...do you hurt people?"

Looking directly at her, Lucas matched her tone, saying, "Only the deserving."

She surveyed him quietly. "I believe it."

He rubbed his hands on his thighs and asked, "How...did we come to this subject?"

"Well, we've been stuck together in this cabin for two days, now. I wanted to know just who is my gracious host." She looked away. Changing her tone, she said, "I noticed that you had some Billie Holiday records. Why don't you put them on, and we can chat about nicer things like the weather, cinema, and the fiscal cliff?"

Lucas hastily agreed, and they sat on the sofa, lightly chatting until it was time to bake the biscuits. He did the honours, while she sat on the edge of the table, enjoying watching him bend over to put the biscuits in the oven. She whistled saucily, "Nice buns," she said.

He heaved a mock-long-suffering sigh. "I'm more than just a piece of meat, you know."

"Oh, I know, Wolfie," she said. "You're a whole slab of beef!"

He straightened suddenly, turning around to look incredulously at her. She held it in as long as she could but almost immediately broke, bursting into peals of laughter at the same time that he doubled over, guffawing, and clutching the counter for support.

"That was...awful!" he sputtered.

"I know!" She giggled. "I couldn't help myself, though. You just walked into that one!"

"I suppose I did," he sighed. "Don't hate me because I'm luscious."

She rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright, let's stop before one of us devolves into vulgarities regarding hot beef injections."

He looked disappointed. "Hey, you took my joke!"

"And thank goodness for that!"

They bantered back and forth, until the warm, brown smell of the buttermilk biscuits mingling with the rich, herbaceous aroma of the roasting chicken made them realize that dinner was done.

He served her again, his capable hands deftly carving tender, crisping slices of roast chicken, scooping up a medley of colourful vegetables that had caramelized in the melting chicken juices, and sliding a steaming, golden biscuit onto her plate. "Oh, and lest we forget!" He sauntered over to the refrigerator, and pulled out a jar of the fresh raspberry jam. Plopping down in his chair, he quickly served himself, and they began to eat. At the first bite of chicken, Lucas growled low in his chest. "I'm telling you, woman. You keep feeding me like this, and you'll have me following you around like a callow pup for the rest of your life."

"I can think of worse things," Adrienne said lightly, her eyes twinkling. They ate in companionable silence, the only audible sounds the clinking of silver against plate, and the occasional groan from Lucas as he discovered a particularly tasty tidbit. "You're very vocal," she observed.

He grinned roguishly. Leaning forward confidentially, he said, "You should hear me howl."

Her eyes widened at the implication. "Well," she said, standing up quickly, "better go frost that cake!"

Lucas watched her turn to the counter, amused at her shocked expression. While her back was turned, he ripped off a chicken leg and sank his teeth into the crispy skin with relish.

Adrienne sliced the now-cooled cake into three layers, and assiduously covered them with plenty of the decadent brown frosting. Taking it to the table, she apologetically said, "It's not much to look at, I'm sure, but it should taste alright."

Eyes shining with a gourmand's delight, Lucas waited while she cut him a hefty slice and put it on his plate. Looking woefully up at her, he asked, "Milk?"

Shaking her head, she turned to the fridge to take out a frosty jug of skimmed milk. Pouring it into a tall glass for him, she sat back in his chair and watched as he attacked his cake like a little boy at Christmas. She smiled indulgently at him, somehow liking him more like this—-innocent and cheerful, as opposed to his usual dangerously seductive mien. He looked up at her, his eyes shining with greedy happiness, a dollop of chocolate beside his kissably coral mouth. Adrienne leaned forward and wiped off the chocolate with her thumb, and slipped it into her mouth. For once, Lucas was intent on something other than seduction as he asked her, "Aren't you going to have some cake?"

"Yes," she said. "But first, I wanted to watch you eat. You can be quite adorable, do you know that?"

He laughed. "I've been called many things, but adorable hasn't been amoung them since I was 12. Meanwhile, I really enjoy this flavour combination. More people should do this—you should make more people do this!"

Adrienne grinned at him, "I'll be sure to hop right on that." She cut a piece for herself. Wrapping her lips around a generous bite of cake, she closed her eyes to concentrate fully on the rich flavour. Grinning, she conceded. "I guess it is pretty good."

He reached out to brush an errant tendril of hair behind her ear. "Yes," he agreed amiably, looking affectionately at her.

She reached for his glass to take a sip of milk.

Lucas chuckled. "Drinking from my glass? Cheeky baggage."

"I trust you," she said saucily, echoing his earlier affirmation.

"Good to know," he returned, quirking an eyebrow. Leaning back, he helped himself to another slice of cake.

After the dinner dishes had been done, Lucas inclined his head to her. "I hate to be a poor host, but I have some work that I need to do. I fear that I must bid you an early goodnight."

"Oh," Adrienne responded, quick-witted as ever. She had assumed that he would spend the rest of the evening with her, and she had hoped that he would continue the tradition of tucking her into bed. "Well, if you must, you must. I can amuse myself with something from the library."

"I'm relieved to hear it," he said. His face looked as though he wanted to say more, but he shook his head.

They made their way to their separate destinations—-he to his bedroom, and she to the library, with the hopes of finding something with which to occupy her time. She found a nice novel, and took it to bed with her.

____________________________________

Lucas was in his room, fiddling with his computer. A cheerful "pop" told him that the wireless was restored. He quickly established a connection with large, dark, silent house in America. Duncan MacTavish's silver head filled the screen. "How is it coming?" he asked gruffly.

"Aside from a bit of cabin fever, no problems to report," Lucas responded.

"Very good." Here, Duncan paused. "Her parents have flown to France. They're looking for her, of course. You may want to hurry. I'm not sure how much time you have."

Lucas raised an eyebrow. Sighing, he said, "I'm doing my best. You have a very... stubborn granddaughter."

"Gets it from me," Duncan asserted with rumbling pride.

"Yes, well..." Lucas cleared his throat. "You may want to have your weather-weavers step up their efforts with the snow to ensure that she stays here. Today, she insisted on going outside. I've no doubt that, unless the effort seemed completely futile, if she took the notion, she would try to dig her way back to the city."

Duncan grunted. "She's a MacTavish, all right. Do you need anything?"

"Not at the moment, no."

"Is she...is she alright?" Duncan asked. Rather tentatively, for him.

"She's fine," Lucas said shortly.

"Get it done, then." Duncan signed off abruptly. Lucas sighed and leaned back on his bed, his eyes pensive.

Much later that night, he made his way to her room. Her door was ajar, and he could see no light emanating from her room. Lucas slowly pushed open the door and padded over to the bed. Moonlight shone through a break in the clouds, illuminating Adrienne's peaceful features. She was on her back, hair unbound, the coverlet pulled up to her shoulders.

He grasped the covers at her feet, and slowly pulled. Inch by inch, her small, curving body was gradually revealed to his hungry gaze. Her loose hair draped artfully over her breasts, hiding them from his view. As she breathed, the silky mass slid slightly, threatening to expose her to his eyes. She was dressed only in a chaste pair of lemon yellow cotton panties, the cloth barely covering her hidden place, and her legs were slightly bent, ankles crossed demurely. Lucas swallowed hard. He spent a long moment, just staring at her. Then, gritting his teeth, he delicately pulled the coverlet back over her body. He watched her sleep for a few more moments, then bent down to place a soft kiss on her brow. Backing away silently, he left the room, and closed the door.

Adrienne's eyes opened, and she spent a long time staring into the dark.