Riding the Red Ch. 04

Adrienne opened her eyes and panicked when she didn't recognize where she was. After a moment, however, all that had happened the previous evening flooded her memory. Throwing back the covers, she looked around the room. Padding gently to the door, she tried the knob. It was open. Okay, another tick in the "not a serial killer" box.

Moving back into the room, she noticed an armoire. Inside were several pairs of jeans, some skirts, plain white cotton panties, dresses, stockings, socks, and various tops, all in natural fabrics. All of it was in her size and most of it was to her taste. Hm. Half a check in the "possible serial killer box". Shrugging, she pulled out a low v-necked, emerald wool sweater, a burgundy button-down with French cuffs, and a pair of low-rise, boot-cut jeans. She searched the rest of the drawers and the room's three dressers, but couldn't find any bras. She could wear her corset again, but she had done quite of bit of running in it and she wanted it washed before she put it back on her skin. Ah well. She would just go braless; Lucas probably wouldn't even notice.

As she was about to leave the room, she noticed another door. Crossing her fingers in the hope that it led to a closet, she found instead, a private bathroom. A porcelain claw foot tub dominated the room, which also boasted a bidet and a corner dedicated to a shower. Looking longingly at the tub, she walked to the shower and turned on the water. Three shower heads came on, all centred in the middle of the stall. Hm. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. She rummaged in the closet for soap and a washcloth while waiting for the water to warm. Expecting something like Dial, or perhaps Caress if she were lucky, she instead found triple-milled soaps and whipped soaps, thick bath and shower gels, pure essential oils, LUSH bath bombs and bubble bars, sugar scrubs, body butters, and clear glass jars of bath salts. She even found various oils and expensive conditioners for her hair. Tearing up a bit at her bounty she entertained the thought that maybe this forced exile would be less "not so bad" and more 'mini-vacation'.

After taking her shower (40 minutes without running out of hot water!) she found various dental implements and freshened up so as not to fry her host with her dragon breath. She checked her face in the mirror, and grimaced to find a veritable rainbow that ran from the middle of her forehead, and around her right temple, to rest on her cheekbone. She opened the bathroom cabinet to discover cotton pads, alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, bandages, antibacterial ointment, and more witch hazel. She gingerly dabbed the livid bruising with witch hazel, cleaned the small wound, and applied some ointment. Fortunately, the wound had already closed enough to no longer require butterfly bandages.

Leaving the bathroom, she picked up a comb from the dresser and began the long, arduous process of combing her thick, waist-length hair. Fifteen minutes (and two very tired arms) later, she braided it into pigtails and tied some red ribbons that she found around the ends to keep them from raveling.

Emerging from her room in a warm cloud of honeysuckle she stood still, closed her eyes, and listened. She heard a rhythmic noise coming from another part of the house, so she followed it. As she grew closer, she realized that it was the sound of someone running on a treadmill. Entering the room, she saw Lucas' back as he ran—flat out ran--with an even, measured tread. He was wearing nothing but gym shorts and footwear and for that, she was immensely grateful. She looked admiringly at the physique that his clothes had only hinted lay beneath their confines. He had brawny forearms and they, as well as his calves, were covered in a good amount of soft chestnut hair. His hairless back was strong, with well defined muscles sleekly rippling under his skin.

Slowing down, he jogged for awhile, then stopped the machine and dismounted. As he turned, he noticed her and grinned, removing ear-buds from his ears. His furred chest and abs were heaving like a bellows, doing interesting things to his musculature. "How long have you been standing there?"

She blushed. "Not long. How far do you run?"

"Fourteen miles, every day."

She tried not to, but she couldn't help but notice just how precariously his shorts clung to his hips. She could almost just make out the line where his happy trail ended and the real fun began. "That's pretty intense," she murmured.

He leaned against the treadmill. "I'm a pretty intense sort."

Looking up at him, she felt her lip and chin wobble, so she bit them. After valiantly fighting for a few moments, she burst out laughing at the same time that he did.

"That was rather cheesy, wasn't it?" he said, ruefully shaking his head.

"It's alright. I'll allow it," she responded.

"A beneficent beauty. What kind of creature have I allowed into my home?"

Chuckling nervously, she said, "Oh, stop, or I'll have to lock up your tongue with the rest of the silver."

Winking at her, Lucas started to saunter by, then turned to examine her face. Taking her gently by the chin, he looked at her face, gave a satisfied nod, and said, "That's healing well. You did a good job tending to it."

"Well, I may not be a medic, but I do have some paltry skills," she riposted.

Lucas laughed, and started walking backwards, saying, "I'm going to go take a shower. You can have whatever you can find for breakfast."

"Oh, you've already eaten?"

"No, but I figured that you're hungry, now."

"I'll wait for you," she said, shyly.

Pausing, he gave her an intensely approving look. "Give me a half hour."

*******************************************

After Lucas completed his ablutions, he dressed in black jeans and an over-sized black, cable knit cashmere sweater over a black button-down. Meeting her in the kitchen, he asked. "Have you done any exploring?"

"A bit," she admitted. "Mostly around your amazing kitchen and pantry, though. You have enough food to feed an army!"

"I like to eat and I like to eat well."

"Well, I like to cook. Since I'm imposing on your hospitality and, since you don't cook, why don't I do it for you while we're here?"

"You want to cook for me?" he asked, slanting a look at her.

Shrugging, she said, "We have to eat. I can cook. It's only logical."

"Seeing as how I was going to make us a couple of nice, big bowls of cereal for breakfast, your way is probably better."

"Speaking of which," she paused nervously, but then forged ahead, "You're a bachelor, yet you have a fully appointed kitchen full of herbs and spices, and your guest room is full of women's clothes. I'm a little confused."

"Well, I have a fully appointed kitchen because that's how I bought it, appliances and all, and I have herbs and spices, and a room full of women's clothing because I have sisters who like to visit often."

"Oh," she whispered quietly, drawing imaginary circles on the green marble counter-top with her finger.

He sighed deeply. "I'm not a serial killer, Adrienne. I'm not going to, I don't know, rape you, salt you, and put you in my freezer for hard times." She nodded. "Now, if that's settled, make me something delicious, or I just may be tempted to eat you all up."

She grinned. "How do you feel about an omelette and some baked oatmeal?"

"Less chattery, more cookery."

Adrienne laughed and began to prepare breakfast. First, she prepared the oatmeal with raisins, honey, bananas, and cinnamon. Then she put in into a loaf pan and popped it into the oven. When that had almost finished baking, she fried some bacon, set it aside, then, in the same pan, she put in some eggs along with fresh chives, mushrooms, and the cooked bacon. While that cooked, she warmed some cream with vanilla bean, and a shot of whiskey. She grated fontina on the omelette and folded it over. After plating the omelettes, she took out the baked oatmeal, scooped some into bowls and poured the warm vanilla cream over the top.

After having set the table, Lucas watched her in awe, occasionally asking questions about why she was doing something. After she sat down, he inhaled deeply. "Woman, I may just have to kidnap you."

"Save your criminal debut until you taste it. It may not be as good as it looks or smells."

He took a bite and his face stilled. Looking at her, he said, "You're right," Her face fell. "It is so much better."

Giving him a face and a shoulder punch, she said, "Thank you," It always gave her a thrill when someone enjoyed her cooking, and it didn't hurt that it was currently being enjoyed by the type of guy who gave her wet dreams. They ate in companionable silence and when they were done, Lucas washed the dishes. While he was doing that, she made a mirepoix and put it, as well as a trimmed leg of mutton studded with garlic cloves, a bouquet garni of rosemary, bay and sage, and an entire bottle of merlot, into his crock-pot to braise for their dinner.

"Come on, he said. I'll give you the tour." Leading her from room to room, he bypassed all of the places that he knew she had seen, to show her the rest of his one story. It didn't take long, as it wasn't that big. The rest of the tour just consisted of his bedroom and bathroom, another bathroom off the living room, a breakfast nook, and the room that captured her heart. A library. He watched indulgently as she flitted from shelf to shelf, pressing her clasped hands to her chest and fawning over his collections of first editions, modern nonfiction, and literature in French, English, Gaelic, Russian, and Roumanian.

"Do you speak all of these languages?"

He nodded. "I'm something of a polyglot," he said, carelessly.

She tilted her head. "I, also. I speak French, of course, English, Hebrew, Latin, and I'm learning Arabic." She grinned, and then said, "Say something in Gaelic.

Reaching out to tug one of her braids, he said, "Tá tú go h-álainn."

She giggled. "What does that mean?"

He shrugged. "It means, 'You're beautiful'."

Adrienne smiled, shyly. Quickly leaning forward, she kissed him on the cheek, and then flitted to the other side of the library.

Unbeknownst to her, he had noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra when she first found him on the treadmill and now that she was no longer paying attention to him, he hungrily watched her breasts bounce as she practically skipped around his library with a look of pure bliss on her face. The motion of her breasts bouncing against the fabric of her shirt caused her nipples to harden until they were prominent enough to make him want to pant. She came over to him, holding out a few books.

"May I read them? Please?"

"You can read anything here that you want," he said, magnanimously.

"What are you going to do?"

He blew a rueful breath. "Well, not work, what with the downed Internet. I guess that I'll read, as well. They took their books and moved to the living room. Sinking into the couch they read for a few hours.

After some time, being hungry, they returned to the kitchen for a lunch of seared tuna, freshly baked beer bread, and a wilted spinach salad. While they ate, they discussed the books that they were reading, which led to a discussion regarding their favourite authors. After lunch, Lucas put a hand to his belly and groaned. "You've impregnated me with your food baby."

Adrienne laughed, delightedly. "Mmm, yes, bear my seed!" After he finished the washing up, and she put beans to soak so that they would be ready, if needed, for an upcoming meal, they retired back to the living room to read.

After a while, however, Lucas noticed that Adrienne's head was drifting toward the back of the couch. He gently maneuvered them both until he was half reclining against the arm of the sofa, and she was lying against his chest. He watched her sleep until his eyelids, too, began to fall. Soon, they were both napping peacefully.

************************************************

They awoke a few hours later, with Adrienne lying on top of Lucas, her arms wrapped around his neck and her face buried in the crook of his shoulder. She felt slightly awkward, but not as bad as she usually would have, given the circumstances. Scrambling off of Lucas while trying to seem unhurried, Adrienne said, "Time to start dinner." He just gave her a slow, sleepy, seductive smile and followed her back into the kitchen, where she made baked sweet potatoes with Dubliner cheese, sour cream, and garlic chives and roasted cauliflower to go along with the braised mutton. After plating and sitting down, she asked, "May I use your exercise room? As you can see, my metabolism isn't that good and if we keep eating like this, I won't be able to fit into any clothes."

Lucas stopped eating, leaned back, and leisurely perused her body. While it was true that she wasn't fashionably thin, he found her to be delectable. She had the body of a 40's pinup girl, from her high, plump, succulent breasts, to her waist around which he could probably wrap his hands, to her generously rounded hips and bottom. He swallowed hard as he imagined her soft thighs wrapped around his hips, or, even better, pressed against the fronts of his. "The issue of you not wearing any clothes doesn't seem that bad," he said. "However, perhaps I didn't make myself clear, earlier. My home, as well everything," here he smiled, "and everyone in it, are available for your use and pleasure."

Adrienne, ducked her head to hide the flushing of her face.

"Duly noted," she said, biting her lower lip to keep from smiling outright.

"What are you doing?" he queried.

"I have a tendency to smile when I'm nervous, so I bite my lip to keep from grinning like an idiot during inappropriate situations," she said, shyly.

A slow, lopsided grin melted across his face. "I like watching you smile."

She looked away, smiling as she toyed with one of her braids. "Like that," he rumbled, "that's beautiful." He waited until she met his eyes, then smiled outright and tucked back into his food. After they had been eating for awhile, he said, "I'm going to have to shovel a path to the shed, so that I can split more wood for the fireplace. I usually stock it in the lean-to, but I didn't know that we were going to get this freak snowstorm." Since the previous evening, it had been snowing on and off and they had gone from being half buried in snow to only being able to see over the top third of the window.

"May I help?" she asked.

"That's not necessary," he said. "I need the exercise."

She stared at him. "You run fourteen miles a day."

"I know, but lately I seem to find myself with extraneous energy," he drawled.

She cocked her head, impertinently. "What if I find myself with extraneous energy?"

His eyes locked onto hers. "Then I have some excellent suggestions on how we might burn through it." She held his eyes for a moment, and then dropped hers to her food. He chuckled and said, "I'll start shoveling tomorrow morning, after my run."

"All right," she conceded. "I'll join you in the morning for exercise, if you don't mind, and then I'll make breakfast while you shovel."

He nodded. "That sounds like a plan." They finished their food and Adrienne moved to clear the dishes. Lucas stopped her, saying, "No, Lady. You cook, I clean, alright?"

She leaned against the table and said, "A girl could become accustomed to that."

"A guy could become accustomed to three star meals every day," he countered. Watching him wash the dishes, she asked him if he wanted something sweet the next day. Looking her up and down he said, "Why, are you offering?"

"You're incorrigible!" she teased.

"I'm a lot of things," he agreed, evenly. "I could give a demonstration, if you like."

Shaking her head in mock dismay, she enunciated, "What sweet thing would you like to eat tomorrow?"

"My question stands."

She threw up her hands in simulated defeat. "I'm just going to make a cake."

"I could go for cheesecake," he said.

She nodded. "I can make that. Would you like it with strawberries?"

"I'm far more interested in one with a cherry."

He said it so meaningfully that she paused before she answered. Then her face flamed. "That," she said, tartly, "is not on the menu."

He sighed deeply. "Well," he said with noble long-suffering, "then I suppose that I could go for regular cake."

She crossed her arms. "You had better be glad that I like you—"

"Ah, you do like me? I won't have to write a note that includes 'check yes or no'?"

She tried to frown, but gave up, threw back her head and laughed. After the dishes were finished, they moved back to the living room. Lucas put on some soft Liszt, and they sat and chatted for the rest of the evening. After a while, Adrienne's eyes started to grow heavy, and Lucas looked at his watch.

"It's gone midnight. Time for all good little girls to be in bed." She nodded. "Would you like me to tuck you in bed?" he queried. She cocked her head and blinked sleepily. Before she could answer, he said, "Too late," scooped her into his arms and carried her to the guest room.

Standing her in front of the bed, he knelt in front of her, opened her jeans and peeled them down her legs. As she lifted each leg to step out of them, he turned his head and gave the side of her knee a brief kiss. The bristly sensation of his stubble against her delicate skin made her feel languorous and heavy. She sat back down and he pulled her sweater over her head. He licked his lips and reached for her top button, but she stopped him.

She shook her head. "I'm not...I mean, I didn't have—I couldn't find—"

"It's alright," he said. He turned around and listened to the rustle of her divesting herself of her shirt. When he turned back, she was lying down, with the sheet pulled over her chest, which did little to hide her protruding nipples. He pulled the rest of the blankets up to her chin, then leaned over and kissed her just on the corner of her mouth. His eyes glittered as he stepped back and surveyed her. Swallowing hard, he wished her a good night, then turned and walked decisively from the room.

Adrienne snuggled further under the covers, enjoying the feel of the warm flannel against her bare skin. She curled up to go to sleep, but something just wasn't right. After awhile, she took a few of the pillows and placed them behind herself, almost as if someone else were there. Curling up against the pillows, she fell asleep to the rhythmic sound of shoes hitting the treadmill.

********************************************

Eiric exited the plane, with Julien close behind. A mere day had passed since Aurelie Blanchard called her son and his wife to let them know that her granddaughter had never made it to her house. Sighting the driver with their names emblazoned on his placard, they whispered intensely as they neared the town car. After entering, Julien turned toward his wife and said, "Maman has been consulting the cards since the night that Adrienne disappeared. Something is blocking her, though, so she's hoping that tapping into your power will help her break through the barrier." Eiric just shook her head and looked miserable. Julien clasped her hand and brought it to his mouth. "We'll find her, Cherie." He pulled her to him, laid her head against his breast, and wrapped his arms around her. "I know it. We'll find notre bebe."