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Gran smiled.

  It was utterly preposterous, but so was the walking dead, or comatose patients who got up and strolled off. “Gran, what does it mean?”

  “I don’t know, dear. We must be very vigilant. I’m inclined to think it can’t mean anything good for any of us. I know very little about vampires, mostly the stories my grandmother told me.” Alice waited. “When we fled from the Romans to the west country, they fled to the Northlands. I’ve heard tell they survived. But I always heard they kept to themselves. One hears stories…” Gran went very quiet and very thoughtful. “Let’s go to bed, Alice. Nothing we can do tonight, or in the morning, come to that, but keep alert, and I’m going to talk to Howell about this.”

  “You’re going to tell him there’s a vampire in Brytewood?”

  “I’m going to tell him we suspect one.” Alice wasn’t too sure about that “we.” “He’ll listen, Alice. He understands there’s more to the world that humans.”

  “He’s Pixie, too?” Heavyset, six-foot Sergeant Pendragon!

  “No, dear, he isn’t Pixie, but he’s Other.”

  “What does that mean, Gran?”

  “He’s more than he looks, Alice. How much more.”

  “Other?”

  “A little more than mere human, child. There’s more than Pixies in the world, my love.”

  “Not here in Brytewood?”

  Gran sighed and shook her head. “Alice, open your eyes and ears. Use all your senses. There’s far, far more in this world and here in Brytewood that in any scientific textbook.”

  Chapter 20

  This expedition was really far too obvious, but what else could she do? Even with June and the children moving out this afternoon, Alice couldn’t take Peter home and march him upstairs under Gran’s eye. Trusting to weather and the seclusion of the countryside was her best bet.

  Hence the two blankets rolled up in the back.

  Picking up Peter wasn’t the snag. Even the sharpest-tongued gossips couldn’t see much awry with the doctor picking her new assistant to make house calls. And to be honest, the way the village viewed Peter, they’d still smile indulgently at him even if he sprouted wings and talons.

  Oops! Give the conversation with Gran last night, that last thought wasn’t too soothing.

  “You know,” Peter said, breaking into her thoughts. Probably a good thing, too. “I used to think Devon was the most beautiful part of England, but these hills come an awfully close second.”

  “I might be biased, but I love it here. Mind you, Devon’s nothing to sneeze at. Mum and Gran used to take me down there for a few weeks every summer. You’ve got coastlines, which we don’t.”

  “Probably a distinct advantage right now. Here we’ve got Sussex between us and the Channel.”

  “Sussex didn’t stop William the Conqueror.” Not the conversation she’d envisioned, but was anyone not worrying right now? “Who’s to tell? Beats me why they’re delaying. If they really had their socks pulled up they’d have come over right after Dunkirk when everyone was at sixes and sevens. It’s like a cat playing with a mouse.”

  “Sometimes the mouse gets away if the cat gets too confident.”

  “I hope you’re right!” Not that she really fancied likening the entire defense force to a bunch of mice.

  They were approaching Fletcher’s Woods and after last time, she might do well to drive on past, but it was a nice secluded spot. She pulled the car over to the grass verge. She was being unbelievably forward, but darn it.

  As she turned off the engine, he gave her a very pregnant look.

  “I thought you might like to explore the beauties of the countryside.”

  He nodded, a rather lovely smile turning up his mouth as his dark eyes gleamed. “Smashing, and by the way, I have a couple of rubber raincoats with me.”

  Very provident of him. “Where did you get them?”

  “Nicked them last night. For reasons best known to the great organizers of the world, there was a case of them in the village hall among the ARP boxes.”

  Better not ask about that one. Especially as now, in the cool of the mid-afternoon, she wasn’t too sure how good an idea this really was. Yes, she yearned for him, and ached for his touch ever since yesterday afternoon, but was she completely insane in addition to being indescribably fast?

  Peter settled the point by jumping out of the car and going round to the back. “Want me to carry the blankets?”

  So he’d noticed them. “Let’s take one each.”

  They climbed over the fence and she deliberately led them in the opposite direction from last time. If there was another strange individual hanging around, she didn’t want to meet him. Maybe a shirking of her Hippocratic Oath, but did it apply to Others, as Gran called them?

  They found a sheltered hollow surrounded by trees and undergrowth but lying in a pool of afternoon sun. Peter spread his blanket. She sat down, putting the second one to the side, and wondered if she really wanted this. It was sudden, it was mad, and it was…

  “Alice,” Peter said, sitting close but not touching, “just because I brought the rubber goodies doesn’t mean I expect to use them. You tell me. Nothing wrong in a nice cuddle in the sunshine. It’s a lovely spot and the company is the best. I feel we’re playing truant.”

  “We are. Perhaps I should report you to your superior.”

  “Go ahead, Doctor. I’ll say I was following your directions.”

  She rolled on her tummy and leaned up on her forearms, looking up the slight incline to the ridge of ferns just beginning to turn brown. “You know,” she said, “if someone had told me a few days ago that I’d be sneaking off in the middle of the day like this, I’d have been sorely affronted.”

  “I’d have considered myself the luckiest man in England.”

  “Mmm.” His arm, warm around her shoulders, felt absolutely perfect, and what else was there to do but lean into him? “I’m glad we ran away.” Most irresponsible and all that, and very selfish but…

  “You won’t ever regret it.”

  It was a promise. It didn’t negate the sheer wildness of skiving off and lying in the sunshine, but after the last couple of days, and particularly her conversation with Gran last night, a few hours alone with a man she fancied was the perfect escape. “I know. After all, it was my idea, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  Yes, Doctor indeed! If that was a trace of levity, she’d fix him. Without wasting time or breath on a reply, she leaned in and kissed him, intending a soft, friendly, teasing kiss.

  He had other ideas. Holding her head steady, he kissed back: hard, sweet, and probing. She parted her lips, or perhaps he parted them for her. The touch of his tongue had her sighing and then moaning and kissing back with a heat and passion that was alien and marvelous and sent wild tremors down to her very core.

  When they paused for breath, she pulled back. He let her, releasing her head and smiling. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t need to. The fire in his eyes matched the heat in her soul.

  “Peter,” she said, if only to make sure she could still breathe and speak. “This really is insane, but…” Dammit, why waste breath over “I’ve never done anything this lunatic before”? What she had or had not done before this moment didn’t matter. It was NOW that she cared about. She grasped his shoulder, pushed him on his back, and stretched out half on top of him.

  She wanted to tell him he was beautiful, sexy, and had her losing her reason, but even that was too much effort.

  She had better uses for her mouth—and his.

  This kiss was slower. At first. As if he wanted to string it out, make it last, keep her mind and body humming with longing for more. And he was so flipping good at it. She must ask him where he learned to kiss. Later. If she remembered. As if it mattered.

  His hand was on her breast, stroking, giving her a gentle squeeze, then it was under her sweater, inside her blouse. To make it easier, she pulled back and yanked her sweater over her head.

  He sm
iled up at her and opened the last few remaining buttons on her blouse. “You’ll catch cold,” he said.

  Cold? She’d forgotten what that meant. “Keep me warm.”

  “I will.” Her blouse ended up on the blanket, along with her bra. He’d already pushed down the straps of her slip to expose her breasts to the sunlight, and his view. It was a trifle chilly but who cared? “Lie down,” he said, pushing her on her back and reaching for the spare blanket.

  He covered them both, draping the blanket over their shoulders as he stroked and caressed her breasts. “So beautiful. So wonderful,” he muttered and closed his lips over her nipple.

  Her groan came from sheer and utter pleasure and a desperate need for more. He gave her more, kissing and playing her other nipple with his lips and tongue. Desire rose in her. Desire to feel his skin as she had yesterday. Yanking his shirt from his trousers, she reached under and ran her hands over his chest, stroking his nipples and marveling how they went as hard as hers.

  She burrowed under the blanket, pushed up his shirt, and licked his nipple. Seemed he like that, if the groan was anything to go by, so she tasted the other one. Yes! He enjoyed that as much as she did.

  This was wonderful, but not enough. Not by a long chalk.

  Seemed he felt the same way. While she’d teased his nipples, his hands slipped under her skirt.

  Wearing French knickers had been an inspiration. His warm hand slid up her thigh and stroked the fur of her pussy. “God, Alice,” he said, his voice tight and hoarse, just before he kissed her again.

  His mouth was hot and hard, his tongue sweet and caressing, and his fingers, dear heaven, his fingers were stroking her, opening her, and now inside her. Curling as they penetrated and she let out a deep, slow groan of sheer and utter delight.

  This man was incredible, magical, wondrous. His lips glorious and his touch perfection.

  He was moving inside her, pressing in and out. If his fingers felt this incredible, what would happen when she had his cock?

  She longed to know, but wanted this glorious intrusion to never end. Her hips rocked in rhythm with his hand and when his thumb pressed and stroked her clit she let out a whoop of utter bliss. “Peter!” she managed, but couldn’t, for the life of her, remember what she intended to say.

  “I know.”

  What did he know?

  What did she know?

  Nothing but this moment, this place, and this man.

  She almost cried when his fingers withdrew. But his mouth on hers stopped any complaint. She was lost in a fog of yearning and pleasure, but couldn’t think clearly enough to tell him she needed more.

  He knew; he had her French knickers off and her legs spread. As he stroked her open, her clit was throbbing with need and urgency.

  “Please,” she begged, reaching for him as he moved away.

  “Just a tick,” he said as he unbuckled his belt. She decided to help with the buttons on his flies, and watched in admiration as he pulled his trousers open and slid down his trousers and pants.

  Her hand closed around his erection. Hot and hard were woefully inadequate for the beautiful cock she held between her fingers. He was sheer beauty, and his need matched hers.

  “Hang on,” he said, easing her hand off him. “Better get him ready.”

  Yes. Definitely!

  He reached for his trousers, took a little cream envelope from the pocket, and tipped out the condom. She watched as he positioned it on the beautiful head of his cock and unrolled it down his erection. Seemed to take him ages—or maybe she was so crazed with need she had no brainspace left to measure time.

  When he was satisfied he had himself sheathed and ready, he met her eyes. “You’re sure about this?”

  Gentlemanly and considerate was all very well, but…“Peter, didn’t anyone tell you it’s not polite to keep a doctor waiting?”

  “Some things are worth the wait, Alice.”

  “Maybe! But not right now!”

  Seemed he and she were of one mind.

  He rolled her on her back, settled himself between her legs, and pulled the blanket right over them.

  They were enclosed in a wondrous cocoon: a private world where his mouth found hers as his cock pressed against the softness of her belly.

  Kisses were lovely but nowhere near enough. Not even with his hand on her breasts or his fingertips tracing lines of heat up and down her thighs.

  In dire need, her hips took up a steady rhythm, and he followed her cue, pushing her legs wider apart and opening her with his fingers. As he caressed her clit, she let out a long, slow moan. He shifted, parted her wide, and the head of his cock pressed against her. He didn’t move, just leaned over her, taking his weight on his forearms as she rocked against him. Wanting more. Reaching for more. Pressing herself up to him, she needed him inside her.

  And he was.

  With a sudden move he was in. Deep. Almost touching her very core. She was filled, invaded, penetrated. Heat poured through her as he began to move, pressing deep and withdrawing in rhythm with her. She was lost in need. As her climax built and peaked, she was suspended in a great arc of pleasure, desire, and sensation. Sensation that built and grew until it burst in a wild paroxysm of pleasure.

  She was so caught up in the rush, swept along with her body’s response, she only half noticed Peter reach his climax and gently sag on top of her.

  He made to shift off her but she couldn’t bear to have him withdraw. She wrapped her arms around him. “Don’t go, not yet,” she said in a voice that sounded taut and alien.

  “I’ll be too heavy.”

  “No. I want to feel your body on mine.”

  As he lay on her, she shut her eyes, the better to feel his heat and strength and to gather to her every last sensation as his erection slowly softened inside her.

  “Like butterflies,” she whispered. “You feel like butterflies inside me.”

  “You feel like heaven,” he replied.

  But heaven was transitory in the fading afternoon. After Peter slipped out of her, and buried the condom under a heap of leaves and last year’s bracken, he fished her clothes out from a tangle of blankets and helped her dress.

  Seemed only polite to return the favor.

  They both looked a bit crumpled, and all that groaning and crying aloud left her thirsty.

  “I wish I’d thought to pack a picnic.”

  “Next time.”

  Her heart did a little flip at that. Yes, next time.

  All the stolen next times.

  “There will be a next time, Alice. Lots of them.”

  “Good.” She looked away to pull on her shoes. Conversation afterward had never been her forte. Come to that, sex had never really been either, but with Peter it was splendid. “Thank you, thank you for having me.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “It was my pleasure, love. My pleasure.”

  “I thought it was mine.”

  “You know, darling,” he said as they folded the blankets. “I’d like to stay here in this little dell forever. Forget the war. Forget everything. Just stay here and make love to you until we both get old and gray.”

  It was a thought. “Sounds like a lovely prospect, but it’s Wednesday and Wednesdays I have evening surgery hours.”

  “Drat! That’s what happens when you love a doctor.”

  Her heart did a skip. Love? He’d called her “my love,” but that was Devon, even the bus conductors called you “my love,” but to say he loved her…

  “Was that too much?” he asked. “Am I jumping the gun? I do love you, Alice. If this isn’t love, I don’t know what being in love is.”

  She didn’t either. She’d been in love. More than once, but not like this. “It’s sudden, Peter.” What a vapid thing to say!

  “Yes,” he agreed, “but I can’t do a thing about that. I love you. Think you can love me back?”

  Unready to commit herself, she smiled. It was a very real and distinct possibility.

  Ch
apter 21

  “Nice spot,” Peter said as they climbed over the fence and headed for the car. “Come here often?”

  “I might make a habit of it. We’re having such a glorious autumn and while the weather lasts…” And when it got cold, she’d find a way to be alone with him. “Funny really,” she said as they got into the car. “The last time I stopped here was last week.” She told him the first part of the mysterious disappearing patient. If Peter thought she was totally barmy, he might be right.

  Seemed he didn’t. “Sounds like a rum do to me. No wonder you called the ambulance out. Darn glad you did as it happens, but have you checked? Called around the hospitals to see if anyone with severe arm injuries walked into casualty?”

  It was a thought. “No. I’ve been too busy.”

  “What about looking around the woods? If you found him here, it might be here he got hurt.”

  It didn’t take anywhere near as long as she’d expected. Mind you, it would have been hard to miss the broken top third of a massive oak.

  It was, she guessed, about a hundred yards from where she’d found him, and looking at the broken tree, Gran’s little chat last night didn’t seem quite so incredible.

  “Blimey!” Peter said. “That’s got to be it; there’s dried blood all over the branches here but…” He shook his head. “At least we know where he got hurt; it’s how that defies comprehension. Unless he dropped out of the sky and landed in the top of the tree.”

  Which she thought was utterly preposterous. Seemed preposterous was becoming commonplace these days.

  Dash it all. He’d seen this much, might as well tell him the rest. It would no doubt convince him she was loony. But if he loved her, he’d better get used to the idea. She shared her conversation with Gran last night, omitting the bit about being Pixies. He was from Devon and all that but really…

  “You think we’re going loopy?”

  “Believing there is a vampire in the village.” Yes, that was pretty much the gist of it. “Alice, my grandmother believed in Pixies. What’s a lone vampire compared to legions of Pixies dancing on the lawn at night.”