Tempest(17)

For long minutes, there was nothing but the feeling of his hands on her back, and she succumbed to the sheer pleasure of his touch. He knew just what she would like, and there was no point in resisting. The unthinkable— Adam touching her naked back— became reality.

Slowly his fingertips massaged her shoulders and neck, then caressed her hair and felt its silky richness. Her scalp tingled with each touch. Smiling like a kitten, she emitted a little purring sound.

And then, Adam bent over and touched her neck with his lips. Just once. Before she could turn skittish, he began rubbing her arms, coaxing each muscle to surrender, then felt the landscape of her slim hands.

“That feels wonderful...” she admitted as he gently pinched up and down one of her fingers.

“I’m glad.”

His strong fingertips were like butterfly wings on her back before slowly moving to graze the curved sides of her compressed breasts. She caught her breath, but her panic had been replaced by a thrill of anticipation. New sensations were fizzling over her nerves like the bubbles in her champagne glass.

Adam kept touching the outside edges of her breasts, straying away then back again, until she was aching for more. Her nipples puckered with need and her breasts felt taut. He was kissing the tender nape of her neck now, then all down her spine, and Cathy involuntarily arched her back. When he brushed his warm lips along the side of one breast, she turned on her side to welcome him.

Adam was nearly mad with arousal, but couldn’t let her know. “Cathy, you are beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely. He fit his hands over her lush curves and, to his delight, felt her nipples swell against his palms. “My little mouse turns out to be a goddess.”

She suspected he was paying her compliments to be kind, but didn’t say so. Instead, as Adam kissed her and drew her into a full-length embrace, she closed her eyes and tried not to be frightened by the feeling of his engorged manhood pressing her tummy through the satin robe still belted around her waist. He tasted so wonderful, and each probe of his tongue increased the tingly sensations that were warmly blossoming in the private parts of her body.

She tried to let her tongue answer his, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Never had Cathy imagined that such intoxication was possible, and she found herself thinking that she could happily melt into Adam’s being.

“Open your eyes, my bride,” he murmured.

She obeyed and found herself staring at his roguishly handsome face.

“Look at the rest of me. There’s nothing to be frightened of.”

Biting her lip, she let her gaze skitter over the muscled planes of his chest, down the hard surface of his belly, and then land for an instant on the threatening-looking proof of his masculinity. Blushing, she protested, “I think it’s better if I keep my eyes closed.”

“You can touch it...”

Her face was on fire. “Not today, thank you.”

He laughed softly at that, then kissed her again, long and passionately, as if to reassure them both that she hadn’t lost her nerve. Adam was poised above her, his mouth blazing a trail down her throat to her breasts. Cathy gasped when he leisurely took one nipple into his mouth and began to suckle, for the sensations that followed were like fiery sparks that traveled down to explode between her legs. She heard herself moan, and when his free hand undid the sash and opened her dressing gown, Cathy parted her thighs to him.

“Yes,” he whispered encouragingly.

Confused by her own arousal, she started to cover herself with one hand, but Adam got there first. And when he touched her, so gently and skillfully, she nearly sobbed aloud. Who could have dreamed...? She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to think about what he was doing, how he was touching her, letting the tide of passion carry her away instead.

“Ah, Cathy, your woman’s body is more eager for this day than you know,” he told her softly.

They shared more long, slow kisses that burned away all her doubts. And while they kissed, Adam continued to touch her, gauging her response. When at last he slipped two fingers inside her and she moved her hips in response, he knew that the moment would never be more right. Kneeling between her thighs, he whispered to her and pushed inside, inch by inch. Soon enough, passion replaced her nervous reticence. Adam was afraid of hurting her and so he held back, but her hips came up to meet his and he tasted sweat on her neck and he knew that there was hope for his starchy little heiress after all...

Cathy, meanwhile, was aware of the burning pain, but her primal instincts were stronger. Her body wanted a release for its need, and most of all, she wanted this union   with Adam Raveneau. Everything about him drove her mad. Tasting his mouth, smelling his male scent, feeling his big body against hers and having him inside her satisfied needs she’d never known until today.

“My husband,” she whispered and pushed back against his thrust.

At that moment, Adam found his own burning release and he stiffened in her embrace. When he was able to focus, to his surprise, he found that Cathy was looking at him in wonderment.

“It take it you didn’t hate it?” he murmured, bemused.

She wished all of it hadn’t ended, wished he didn’t have to leave her body, wished he wouldn’t lie on his back with space between them. But she could scarcely absorb her own feelings, let alone share them with him. “No, I didn’t hate it. You were very patient.”

Absently, Adam reached for one of his handkerchiefs from the night table and handed it to her. “You may need this,” he murmured. Then he patted her thigh, eyelids drooping. “If you’ll excuse me, my lady, I’m going to take a nap...”

Rising up on one elbow, she stared at him, frightened by the force of her new-born passions and her sharp craving for her husband. He seemed to be asleep, unaware of her gaze. How could he sleep during this turning point in her life?

She noticed the wetness and pain between her legs then. It felt as if she’d been scorched. Looking down, Cathy saw bright smears of blood on the priceless sheets and was struck by the symbolism. She was bleeding for him and he didn’t seem to notice...





Chapter 11




“I’ve just realized something. You never told me your secret,” Cathy said as they looked out over the afterdeck rail and watched a school of dolphins arcing through the ocean near the yacht. “That’s cheating.”

Adam laughed, his profile set against the sunlight and the bright blue water. “I’ve been wondering when you’d bring this up.”

“I was just waiting for you to lower your guard.”

Behind them, a steward appeared with their tea tray, and they went to sit down on new wicker chairs amidst the potted palms and an aviary of exotic birds. A few days into marriage, Cathy knew just how her husband liked his tea, and she fixed it more carefully than he would have done for himself. When they were settled and Alice had trundled over for a bite of biscuit, Adam cleared his throat.

“I was just thinking that you grow lovelier with each passing day. You’re getting freckles on your little nose...”

“Horrid!”

“Your hair gets curlier the closer we get to the equator—”

“Unrulier, you mean!”

“And the hotter it gets, the thinner the fabric of your shirtwaists becomes.”

“Don’t be prurient.” She laughed in spite of herself.

“I thought it was my duty to be prurient. Wasn’t that part of our wedding vows? No? I could have sworn...”

Cathy watched as he sat back in the chair, balancing cup and saucer, and stretched out his legs. Alice appeared and took up her position beside her master. It seemed that he was growing handsomer as the days at sea slipped gently from their grasp. The sun agreed with Adam, deepening his golden tan and setting his black hair agleam. He wore wonderful clothes: starched white or pin-striped shirts open-necked and folded up at the cuffs, beige linen trousers, and burnished leather belts or braces. Cathy felt euphoric in his presence and leaden when they were parted for more than an hour.

“You’re trying to distract me from the real matter at hand,” she accused with mock severity. You owe me a secret and I intend to be paid.”

“I’ve been thinking about this and find myself with a dilemma. Men don’t have the same sorts of secrets women do. Your secret, about the origin of your name, was charming; quite harmless. All my secrets are...”

“Yes?” Cathy sat forward in her chair.

“Dark. There’s no other word for it.”

“What does that mean? Criminal?”

He laughed. “Hardly. Come and sit on my lap.”

“I shouldn’t. You’re trying to break your side of our bargain, aren’t you?”

Before he could respond, she came to him and he slid both arms around her trim waist. How fresh and soft she was in her long, fitted skirt and thin batiste shirtwaist. Her breasts pushed lightly against him, reminding Adam of the moonlit moments he’d spent kissing them the night before. An exquisite cameo pin was fastened at the base of her high, lace-edged collar.

“Every time I see another piece of your jewelry, I chastise myself for not getting you a proper wedding gift,” he said. “I’m a poor excuse for a gentleman.”

“Even if I cared for jewels, the only wedding gift I wanted was you. If you hadn’t come back from the West, I’d still be bound to my mother, hunting noblemen...” Cathy shuddered and clung to his shoulders. He’d never know how lucky she felt every morning when she opened her eyes and beheld him lying beside her. She was so enamored that her heart hurt, but it wouldn’t do for Adam to know that, so she managed a bit of laughter instead. “How can you say that you haven’t gotten me a gift when soon we’ll be on Barbados and I’ll become mistress of Tempest Hall? I’ll have the most romantic life imaginable.”