Tempest(25)

Shivers ran down her back, and she wanted nothing more than to melt backward into his waiting arms. “But— but, Adam, if you aren’t jealous of Theo—”

“I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”

“What is it, then? Why have you been treating me so badly?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about - or why we must talk at all now.” His hand crept around her waist, drawing her in. “What have I done that’s so terrible?”

“It isn’t one thing; it’s your attitude toward me. You behave as if I’m a burden, or an annoyance...”

Adam loosened her tortoiseshell hairpins and let down her long curls. “Mmm. Your hair smells lovely. How could I be annoyed by you?”

“You know what I mean.” With an effort, she turned her face away from his gently questing lips. “If everything is fine between us, why are we in separate bedrooms, and why haven’t you come to me even once since we arrived here?”

“I thought you expected separate bedrooms. Your parents have them, don’t they?” His fingers were so deft with the fastenings on her gown that he opened the back before she even knew what was happening. “I’ve been too busy, too worried about the plantation.” His mouth grazed the hollow beneath her ear. “I’m sorry.”

When he turned her in his arms, Cathy felt her resolve melting away. Raveneau’s face, shadowed in the soft light from oil lamps, was so splendidly male that her heart hurt to look at him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated huskily. “Is that what you need to hear?”

She knew that his excuses were hollow; much more than simple thoughtlessness had come between them since their arrival at Tempest Hall. But her mother’s voice echoed in her ears: “You’ll have to yield to him— it’s your duty as a wife!” And, Cathy did long to be back in his arms again. If she turned him away, it might drive an irretrievable wedge between them.

She let her cheek rest against his chest and nearly sighed aloud. “If you’re sorry, will that change matters in the future?”

“You’re making this awfully complicated,” he replied. “Who can say what the future holds? I do know how I feel tonight. I’ve missed you, Cath.”

“Oh, I’ve missed you, too.” Elated, she stood on tiptoe as he lifted her up to meet his kiss. It was thrilling to open her mouth to him, to taste him again, to feel the hard imprint of his body against her own. “I’ve felt so alone—”

Adam didn’t hear her. He was too busy reclaiming what belonged to him, and realizing how long it had been since they’d been together. What had been wrong with him? At that moment, he couldn’t imagine.



In the middle of the night, Cathy sat up in bed, fully awake. Her heart was pounding. Where was she? Moonlight illumined a room of grand proportions, its deep windows wearing shutters that pushed out from the bottom. The humid breeze that stirred the mosquito netting around her bed evoked nothing of Newport, and even the distant ocean had a foreign rhythm.

Barbados.

Yes, she was living in Barbados now. But this wasn’t her usual, solitary room. This towering mahogany four-poster bed belonged to Adam.

Her husband.

Glancing down, Cathy saw that she was naked. As she reached to cover herself, her eyes strayed to the next pillow, where Adam Raveneau was sprawled in all his considerable glory, the white sheet twisted around one powerful thigh. His breathing reminded her of the purr of a jungle cat.

Slowly, Cathy’s vague sense of alarm was offset by euphoria. Why should she feel out of place? She was in her husband’s bed, after lovemaking. It was only right. Perhaps her new life as Lady Raveneau was falling into place at last. Lying back, she regarded Adam’s moonlit face and wished it were easier for her to relax with him. Even in sleep he seemed mysterious. Unreachable.

She touched his dark hair with her fingertips. Adam stirred. Her hand moved down to his chest. Cathy loved the crisp, soft hair there that contrasted with the firm warmth of his skin. His body was intoxicating to her, but she was afraid to let him know it, and afraid to let herself explore more freely.

Afraid to open herself completely during lovemaking, for fear she’d lose control... and— what? Shock him? Give him some kind of secret, sexual power over her? Cathy held her breath, heart beating hard. Maybe, she thought, a door might open inside her soul and then only Adam would hold the key...

How could she let that happen when he didn’t love her?

“Mmm.” He rolled toward her.

She looked at his eyelashes, the shape of his cheekbones, the shadows at the base of his flat belly. There was a line of hair that seemed to point to the most masculine part of him. She heard herself sigh.

Slowly then, his eyes opened just a fraction and he watched her. His hand reached for her wrist, moved it down until her fingers touched him. He was astonishingly erect again.

“Looking for something?” he whispered in a sleep-husky voice.

Cathy nearly protested her innocence, but his gaze was so knowing and so irresistible that she smiled instead and went into his embrace. Oh, he smelled so good. Each time he held her hard against him, she wished she could drink him like water. As it was, her thirst was never quenched. While the mosquito netting whispered in the soft breeze, she soaked up sensation. Adam’s kiss was full of heat and urgency and so were his hands as they roamed over her naked body, searching out her pleasure zones. Somehow he understood just what she needed most, although she couldn’t have asked herself.

Was it a dream? Cathy closed her eyes, aching. Adam’s warm mouth was at her nipple, working the pink crest just so, until waves of bliss carried her up, set her down, and lifted her again. She sank her fingers into his hair, moaning, and he made a low, primitive sound in response. When she looked down, she was struck by the contrast between his tanned, chiseled body and her own pale, moonlit flesh.

“Shh,” he murmured, encouraged by her abandon.

Cathy closed her eyes again. He was kissing the hollow of her hip, the soft curve of her tummy, and even though the place between her legs was very warm and swollen, she suddenly felt nervous. Why was he kissing her way down there? Her heart began to race; it was hard to breathe. Embarrassed and panicky, Cathy wrapped her fingers around a lock of his hair.

Adam looked up and saw her eyes, big and worried in the shadows. He lifted himself back to lie over her and gave her a long, calming kiss. And then, gently, he entered her again and their hips were moving in a predictable rhythm. Cathy breathed against his shoulder as if she were excited, but he knew that the tension of arousal had been punctured by her nerves.

Later, when they were lying side-by-side in the big bed, Cathy drew the sheet up over her breasts and looked over to see if Adam’s eyes were open. They were; he was looking at the gossamer netting overhead. His hands were folded under the back of his head.

“I hope you don’t think I’m a prude,” she ventured softly.

“Hmm? Oh, no. Of course not.”

“I don’t know why I got nervous.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t want you to ever do anything that doesn’t feel right.”

That made her worry even more. Clearly, if their romance were on course, they’d be in unspoken agreement on all things, especially their displays of physical love... “Perhaps I need time to feel more at ease. It’s all so different than I expected it to be. I mean, I never even imagined that one might not wear one’s nightgown at all times.”

“Is that your mother’s idea of married love?” His voice held a note of irony.

“I don’t really know. It’s not a subject we ever discussed.”

“Well... no cause for concern.” He turned onto his stomach, preparing for sleep. “Goodnight, then.”

Before she could speak again, she saw that his breathing had slowed. He was sleeping, as unconcerned as if they’d been married for years and their intimate relationship had gone stale long ago. Cathy rolled away on her side, then slipped one hand down to touch herself experimentally. Had he really meant to kiss her there? The very thought made her face flame.

And yet, she experienced another hot twinge between her legs as she remembered the way his mouth felt on her own lips, on her nipples, on the sensitive spots of her throat, her nape, her wrists... The possibility of even more heightened pleasure was shocking and tantalizing, almost beyond endurance.

Slipping out of bed, Cathy padded into the dressing room. She used the commode, then took a soft, embroidered cotton nightgown out of her drawer and slipped it over her head. It reminded her of her bedroom in Newport. For good measure, she fastened each button up to the base of her throat before returning to Adam’s bed. Moments later, she too was asleep.



“Mistress goin’ to Hastings?” Retta inquired in an offhand tone.

Adam was watching through the kitchen window as the men from the Ice House unloaded his order on rollers. The ice was in crocus bags, covered in salt. At first, it seemed that he didn’t hear Retta, then he glanced back. “How did you know about that?”

“June tells me.”

“June hears too much while she’s serving supper.” He frowned and sipped his strong coffee. “Tell her to close her ears.”