Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(72)

In a calmer moment Ruark drew away and leaned back against the massive headboard, fluffing his pillow behind him and drawing Shanna up beside him. He poured a glass of Madeira from the bottle on the bedside commode and handed the goblet to her.

“We’ll share a glass,” he breathed, kissing her throat.

Shanna placed a hand on his chest to stop her reeling world and answered him as his lips found hers and played upon them, his tongue lightly caressing them, his teeth gently tugging.

They sampled the wine as lovers, sipping from the same spot on the rim and then kissing as the taste lingered in their mouths. His eyes devoured her, drinking in her beauty, touching her everywhere. His hand wandered upon her boldly, stroking her thighs, drawing intricate patterns on her stomach. Her ripe breasts, pink-tipped and tantalizing, trembled beneath his soft caress.

Shanna’s regard of him was just as inquiring. Her finger followed across his belly where light skin was separated by dark. Ruark held his breath as she traced the thin line of hair that trickled downward from the light furring on his chest, and again the coals of passion were fanned and flamed.

For a time they slumbered, and for both it was a natural untroubled sleep. Shanna had no dreams of what she might have missed, and Ruark had no nightmares of what he was sure he had missed. Feeling the manly warmth beside her, Shanna roused from the depths of sleep and rolled her head to gaze at Ruark. He lay on his back, one arm across his waist with the other thrown wide, his chest rising and falling with his slow and even breath. She could not resist the temptation and, reaching out, ran her hand through the light hair on his chest. With something akin to wonder, she felt along the lean ribs and was more than mildly amazed at the hardness of the muscles at his waist. Then a finger touched her chin and raised it until she looked full into those soft amber eyes. They were not smiling now; they were intense to such a degree that she was almost startled. She was surprised at her own abandon, for she came to him again, pressing to him, answering his every passion with her own. She sighed as his lips found her breasts and held his head to her, moving so her bosom caressed him softly, stirring him until his lips parted in the agony of it. His hands were beneath her hips, lifting her to him, and again they tasted the full joy of their mutual union    .

Much later Shanna lay on his chest, her cheek resting against his neck. The windows of the room opened on the east, and there they both could see the first rosy glow of the predawn light. With a sigh of reluctance, Shanna rose. Ruark watched silently as she slipped into her gown and pulled her robe over it, tucking her feet in a pair of slippers. In the doorway, she leaned against the sill and looked back at him.

“The bargain is fulfilled, then.” Her voice was so low Ruark barely heard it.

Quickly Shanna turned and fled. Ruark swung his long legs over the edge of the bed and sat listening to the sound of her footsteps hurrying through the house, then fading as they went onto the porch. His voice, too, softly broke the quiet.

“Aye, Shanna, my love, the bargain is fulfilled. But what, then, of the vows we exchanged?”



Shanna was again her bright and cheerful self, though in the night past the amount of sleep she had gotten had been meager indeed. It was as if a great burden had been lifted from her, and truly she conceded the fulfillment of the bargain and the restoration of her honor had accomplished wonders. Ruark could demand no more of her, no matter how twisted his reasoning. The affair was past. Done! She was free. It had been a delightful interlude, but now it was over. She could set her mind to more important matters.

In the press of the day, Ruark faded from her memory. She was gay, lighthearted, and efficient. In the afternoon, her father sat as judge for some of the squabbles that arose among his people. Shanna was at his elbow, recording and advising. Then there was a tour of the warehouses, and the reports of the various managers were duly noted. The harvest had been rich, and huge kegs of black rum and the lighter tans and whites were stacked high, ready for shipment. Bales of raw hemp brought in from other islands filled several storehouses. There were kegs of indigo, valuable for the rich blue dye it offered, and a wide assortment of tobaccos, native cotton, flax, and other raw material which England needed for its factories.

Shanna and her father had a late, quiet supper together, and she retired, a much-eased conscience bringing her quickly to restful sleep. The next day passed much the same, and her night of surrender was all but forgotten in the rush.

The fifth day dawned as the rest, but became cloudy with fleeting mists and fitful breezes. Shanna and her father, riding in the barouche, ranged high in the hills checking sites. Abruptly Trahern decided to swing by the site of the new cane mill to see the progress there.