Free The Color of Secrets by Lindsay Ashford Page A

don’t know,” she whispered back. “Do you think we can trust them?”
    “I doubt it.” Bill grinned. “But I have an idea. Call your sister over.”
    As Dilys drew level with them, Bill produced a bottle of Coca-Cola from his kit bag.
    “Dilys,” he said, passing her the bottle, “that sure is a pretty name—where does it come from?”
    “It’s . . . er . . . Welsh.” Dilys glanced at the unfamiliar label, then at Eva, a nervous smile on her lips. “My mum’s side of the family comes from Wales. We’ve got an aunt and an uncle and a cousin there. We used to go to their farm for holidays, didn’t we, Eva?”
    Eva nodded, wondering what Bill was up to.
    “Is that so?” Bill gave Dilys a disarming grin. “Well, you try some of that. See what you think. Don’t worry—it’s not alcohol. Now, I just want a little word with your boyfriend.”
    He led Anton a few yards along the path, and Eva saw him take something else from his kit bag. It glinted as the sun caught it, but she couldn’t make out what it was. After a brief conversation the two men walked back over and Anton took Dilys’s arm.
    “Let’s go and see what’s down there,” he said, pointing to a stream that wound along the boundary of the field.
    “What did you say to him?” Eva hissed as they strolled off.
    “I showed him these,” Bill said, pulling a pair of field glasses from his pocket. “I told him he could take her as far as the stream, but you’d be taking a peek at what they were up to every five minutes.” He chuckled as he passed them to her. “If that doesn’t put him off, well . . . ”
    “My, aren’t you clever . . . ” She took hold of his lapels, pulling him close. “You even managed to win Dilys over—she was so busy drinking that stuff, she didn’t say a word. What was it?”
    “Don’t you have it over here?” he murmured, nibbling her ear. “Gee, that’s too bad.” His hands slid from her head to her shoulders and down her back. She could feel the heat of them through the thin fabric of her dress as his fingers traced a slow, spiraling path down her spine. Then he knelt on the ground, kissing her bare ankles, her calves, her knees. She felt her legs buckle, and in a moment she was lying beside him, the pale stalks of wheat splaying out around their bodies.
    His fingers were on the buttons of her dress now, tugging at the fabric as his mouth slid down her neck. She could feel his breath on her skin as he paused, and glancing down she saw that he was gazing at her breasts above the low, lacy edge of her bra. The look in his eyes was so strange, like a child the first time he sees snow.
    “Is this okay?” he whispered, his hands sliding around to undo the hooks.
    She wasn’t sure if he was asking her or himself. She stroked his head, her skin on fire as his tongue slid between her breasts. Her heart was beating so fast she was sure he must be able to hear it. Now her dress was down past her waist. With a delicious flick of his tongue across her belly, he raised himself up and moved his body onto hers.
    “Bill, I . . . ” she faltered.
    He froze for a second and rolled onto the ground. “You don’t want to,” he said, sucking in his lips as he stared at the sky.
    “It’s just . . . ”
    “I know.” His voice was a gruff whisper. “It’s because I’m black.”
    “No! It’s not that!” She closed her eyes and drew in her breath, tugging the fabric of her dress together to cover herself. Oh God , she thought, what am I going to do? She wanted him so much she felt a physical ache where his lips had touched her body. Should she let him make love to her? Would that be such a wicked thing to do? More wicked than letting him think that she despised him? After a silence that seemed to last forever, she propped herself up on one elbow and slid her hand under his neck.
    “It’s not you,” she whispered, drawing him close. “I’m just worried about Dilys and Anton catching us.” It