Lover Beware 03 - After Midnight

have a baby, or maybe it was simply that her biological clock was ticking loudly because she was over thirty—but she didn't just want children in the misty, uncertain future, she wanted to be pregnant now. Too much time had slid by while her body had simply marked time. She wanted to know there was a baby growing inside her.
    She was young enough to remarry, young enough to start a family if she wanted, but her mind flinched from the process of getting pregnant. After years of having a separate room from Patrick, the thought of sleeping with a man, the shattering vulnerability of making love, quite frankly scared the living daylights out of her.
    She picked up the crumpled note, smoothed it out, and looked at the firm, slanted writing.
    Call me.
    Just like that.
    If she called Rider, within five minutes she would be flat on her back and penetrated.
    A raw flash of heat went through her, starting a dull throbbing between her thighs.
    Michael was big, taller than Patrick had been—six foot two, at least—heavier and more muscular, and intensely male. Sex with him would be hot and vital, and there was no question in her mind that he would make her pregnant. The thought of having him on top of her, sliding inside her and climaxing, sent another raw shudder through her and her breasts tightened, the nipples erect and almost painfully sensitive.
    When she was ready for that—if she was ever ready—she After
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    would call him, and it registered that, regardless of Rider's availability, and frightened out of her skin of the process or not, she was mentally preparing herself to have sex with Michael Rider.

    Chapter 5
    AT FIVE IN the morning, Jane woke from a fitful sleep, drenched with perspiration, the tank top and panties she'd worn to bed clinging uncomfortably to her skin. Untangling the single sheet that was wound around her legs, she pushed the damp cotton aside, paced to her window, and pushed it wide. Sometime in the night a fitful wind had got up, but the heavy mantle of cloud remained, blanking out the moon and stars, so that darkness pressed in—thick and absolute. The faint tang of ozone filled her nostrils, along with the rich scent of rain and the pervasive sweetness of the jasmine and hon-eysuckle that persisted in her garden despite her attempts to weed them out.
    Smothering a yawn, she showered, washed her hair, and changed into fresh clothes, then walked out to the sheds and began battening down for the storm.
    Despite the canopy of cloud and the steady breeze, the heat was oppressive, and by lunchtime, coated in dust and grime from wrestling farm equipment into sheds, and jittery from expecting at any moment to hear Michael's truck coming up her drive, she was ready for a break. Changing into her swim-suit, she called Jess and walked along the worn track to the After Midnight
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    creek that flowed through the wild reverted country at the rear of her property. Here, the land was twisted and strange, filled with a jumble of large boulders and creepy caves, but the river was deep enough to swim in, and surrounded by ferns and nikau palms, with the added bonus of a small waterfall plung-ing off a limestone shelf.
    As she swam, she gradually became aware that aside from the deliciously cool sound of water flowing, the bush had grown silent, as if the approaching storm had cloaked everything in a blanket of humidity, muffling sound. Tension skimmed the length of her spine as she climbed a small sloping rock face, retrieved her towel, and knotted it around her waist.
    Just minutes ago, Jess had been lying in the shade, happily panting; now she was nowhere to be seen.
    Jane swiveled around, searching the thick bush edge, which was choked with trailing vines of supplejack and thick, spiky coprosmas. Her instinct was to call out to Jess. The little dog was more than likely exploring, but Jane didn't like the thought that she might have gotten stuck down a hole, or lost in one of the limestone caves. Here, the country was as un-predictable as it was strange, and every now and then, when a piece of limestone eroded enough, a hole simply opened up in the ground.
    Oddly loath to break the silence, Jane held her hands to her mouth and called. A rustling on the other side of the bank drew her gaze. She called again. When there was no response, she reluctantly dropped the towel and climbed back down the rock face and slid into the water. A few strokes took her across to the other side of the river.