for Earl’s condition. I invited him to take tea, and we delighted in one another’s company for the better part of an hour.’”
Jud listened to the whisper of turning pages.
“Looks like she’s seeing Dr. Ross almost every day. She’s started calling him Glen. ‘April 14. Glen and I took a picnic basket to the hilltop behind the house. Much to my surprise and delight, he produced from his medicine case a bottle of the finest French Burgundy. We enjoyed ourselves marvelously, feasting upon chicken and wine, and upon each other’s company. As the day progressed, our passion rose. I was hard put to restrain the man. Though he kissed me with an ardor that stole my breath away, I allowed him no further liberties.’ ”
Donna stopped reading. She looked down at Jud, smiled, and sat down beside him on the floor. “I’ll allow you the liberty of a kiss,” she said.
He kissed her gently, and she pressed her mouth to his as if hungry for the taste of it. When he put a hand on her breast, she pushed it away.
“Back to Lilly,” she said.
Jud watched her skim the pages. She was sitting shoulder to shoulder with him, the book propped against her upraised knees. The soft downy hair on her cheek looked golden in the lamplight. The closeness and smell of her excited Jud so he stopped caring much about Lilly Thorn.
“She doesn’t get very specific, but I think she’s well beyond the kissing stage, at this point. She’s hardly writing about anything, now, except Glen.”
“Mmmm.” Jud put a hand on Donna’s leg, feeling the heat of her thigh through the corduroy.
“Ah-ha! ‘May 2. Last night, long after the children were abed, I stole outside at the appointed hour and met Glen in the gazebo. After many protestations of love, he asked for my hand in marriage. I accepted his offer without hesitation, and he joyously clutched me to his bosom. Through much of the night, we embraced and planned our future. At length, the chill became too great for us. We stole into the parlor. There, on the couch, we held one another tenderly, blessed by the fullness of the moment.’ ”
Donna shut the diary, keeping place with her forefinger. “You know,” she said, “it makes me feel kind of… dirty, reading this. Like a peeping Tom, or something. It’s so private.”
“It might tell us who killed her family.”
“It might. I’ll go on with it. Only…I don’t know.” She lowered her head and began turning the pages. “They’ve set a date for the wedding. July 25.”
Jud put his arm across her shoulders.
“ ‘May 8. We held another rendezvous in the gazebo, last night, meeting at the stroke of one. Glen had the presence of mind to bring a comforter. With the chill of night vanquished, our ardor burst upon us without restraint. We were caught as in a tide. Powerless to resist its pull, we allowed the tide to buoy us upon its bosom and sweep us into blissful delight such as I have never known.’ I guess,” Donna said, “that means they screwed.”
“Christ, I thought their raft had capsized.”
Laughing, Donna pounded his leg. “You’re awful.” She faced him, and he kissed her. “Awful,” she said into his mouth.
He brushed his fingertips along the smooth skin of her cheek, traced the outline of her jaw and throat. She put the book down. Turning so a breast pushed against Jud’s side, she plucked at his shirt, unbuttoning it. Then she slid her hand beneath it, stroking his belly and chest.
Jud pulled her down, away from the nightstand. Lying on his side, with the length of her pressed against him, he pulled her shirttail free and slipped his hand down the back of her corduroys, feeling the cool smooth curves of her buttocks. He moved his hand up her back to unhook her bra.
“Wait,” she said.
“What’s wrong?”
“The floor was last night,” she said, pushing away from him. She stood up.
With her eyes fixed steadily on Jud and a slightly apprehensive look on her face, she unbuttoned her blouse. She tossed it onto the bed near the door. She shrugged off her bra, and tossed it. Sitting on the side of the bed, she pulled off her socks. She stood, tugged open her belt, and unfastened her pants. They dropped to her ankles. She stepped out of them. Now she wore only brief panties. The dark of her pubic thatch was visible through sheer blue nylon. She slipped the panties off.
“Stand up,” she said. Jud noticed a tremor of fear or excitement in her voice.
He pulled off his shoes and socks. He set his Colt .45 beside the lamp. Then he stood, taking off his shirt. While he unbuttoned it, Donna unbelted his pants. She lowered them, kneeling. Then she slid the underpants down his legs. Her tongue licked and she took him in, sucking.
He moaned. As Donna stood, he brought her tightly against him. For a long time, he held her there between the beds, kissing her, exploring the slopes and crevices and orifices of her body, stroking and probing while she did the same with him.
Then they parted. Donna pulled back the covers, and they lay on the bed.
They didn’t hurry.
Part of Jud’s mind remained cautious, listening and alert like a guard standing watch. The rest of him joined Donna. He became part of her smoothness, her hair, the quiet sounds she made in her throat, her dry places and her slippery places, the many smells of her, the tastes. And finally the slick scabbard that took him, taunted him until he ached for release.
Arching his back, he thrust deeper, deeper than ever. Again. Crying out, Donna lurched up and grabbed him. He fell on her, ramming and ramming, and all the tight ache blasted out of him.
They lay together afterward for a long time. They talked softly; they said nothing. Donna fell asleep holding his hand. Finally, Jud got up. He dressed, and resumed his position on the floor between the beds, the .45 automatic next to his leg. 3.
“Was I asleep long?” Donna asked.
“Half an hour, maybe.”
She pulled herself to the edge of the bed and kissed Jud. “Want to get back to Lilly?” she asked.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
“I really conked out.”
“Yeah.”
She smiled. “All your fault.” She reached down a bare arm for the book.
“Maybe you’d better get dressed.”
“Mmmm.” She sounded as if she didn’t care much for the idea.
“If we have a visitor…”
“God, did you have to remind me?”
He stroked the side of her face. “You get dressed, and I’ll look in on Sandy and Larry.”
“Okay.”
She covered herself with a sheet when Jud opened the door.
Sometime during their lovemaking, darkness had come. Light showed through the window of Cabin 12. Jud stood beside Donna’s Maverick and searched the parking area. A woman with two children came out of Cabin 14. They got into a camper van. He waited for the van to leave, then he crossed to Cabin 12 and knocked lightly on the door. “It’s Jud,” he said.
“Just a sec.”
A moment later, Larry opened the door. Jud looked in. He saw Sandy sitting cross-legged in front of the television, looking over her shoulder at him.
“Everything okay?”
“Until you frightened the heebie-jeebies out of me a second ago, everything was marvelous.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later.”
He went back to Donna’s cabin. She was sitting on the floor between the beds, dressed in her cords and blouse, the diary resting against her upthrust knees. He sat down beside her, and put his .45 next to his right leg. “They’re fine,” he said.
“Okay. Back to Lilly. If you remember, her boat has just capsized.”
“Right. And she was drowned in waves of passion.”
