Laughing, he came down the ladder to face her, then sketched a bow. “No offense intended, Lady Raveneau.”
“That’s better. Besides, you look every bit as ridiculous as I do.” She touched the flecks of green on his black hair. Adam wore a collarless and cuffless old shirt and a pair of baggy white duck trousers he kept for work in the sugarcane fields. An old Oxford tie served as a belt. His brown feet were bare, and Cathy privately thought that there was something carnal about the sight of them when he was otherwise fully dressed.
“Well,” Adam remarked on his way out the door, “even Alice has been baptized, I see.”
The Labrador glanced up from her spot in the sunshine, and indeed, she too was paint-smeared. Her soulful eyes implored him to bring her a treat.
“I’ll be very surprised,” called Cathy, “if Josephine will fix lunch at this late hour. Our new cook may be talented, but she’s just as temperamental as everyone else from the Ocean Breeze Hotel!”
“My dear, I have ways with women of which your friend Theo is wholly ignorant.”
This made her giggle; she collapsed in the planter’s chair. “I hope you’re right, because—”
“I know, you are ravenous!” With that, Adam disappeared out the back door. He’d taken only a few steps toward the kitchen when he saw Josephine’s unmistakable rotund figure walking outside, past the stables. Guinea fowl scattered before her as she marched purposefully northward.
“Josephine!” he called in a friendly voice. “Where are you going?”
She stopped and waited for him to reach her before replying, “I want de sea-bath. I walkin’ to de sea.”
He watched as she pointed to the coastline that was visible over the brow of the hill. “Perfectly understandable. However, Lady Raveneau is very hungry. Would you mind, before you go, fixing us a bite of lunch?”
Her brow furrowed as deeply as if he’d just told her that the island was about to burn to a cinder. “It de middle of de aft’noon, sir! I make lunch at noon, not all day lonnng.” Wagging her head, Josephine repeated, “I want de sea-bath now.”
“I don’t suppose you might make an exception this time?” He gave her his most devastating smile, the one that had caused countless women to melt in his arms.
“You take me for a fool?” She guffawed. “Slav’ry done wit’ long ago!”
He bit back a harsh reply. With Hermione Parrish arriving in three days, he couldn’t afford to alienate their one servant who really did an exceptional job. So, he wished her a pleasant afternoon by the seaside and headed into the kitchen by himself.
A few minutes later, Adam appeared back in the library carrying a large carved tray. “I’m going out on a limb with my next comment, Cathy.”
The very sight of him looking like a waiter put a wide smile on her face. “Be brave, my lord.”
“Although I abhor slavery as much as anyone, it did make life much more convenient for the plantation owners.” He found a place for the tray on a low footstool. “Somehow I can’t imagine my grandfather being reduced to this.”
“But your grandfather freed the slaves here many years before the rest of Bajan slaves were free.”
“You’ve been talking to Retta too much.”
“You have no idea.” She gave him a secret smile. “Let’s see what you’ve brought me.”
“Kindly disabuse yourself of the notion that all of this is for you.” With a wry sideways glance, Adam eased the cork out of a bottle of champagne, and it frothed out all over his Kuba rug. “Damn! It’s because it’s warm. We haven’t a piece of ice anywhere. Simon’s gone to order some today, along with all the other supplies we’re out of. Josephine never seems to notice we’re running low on anything until it’s gone.”
“Theo has that same problem with his brilliant cooks.”
“Well, he’s a lot closer to the market than we are!” He removed napkins from plates to reveal sliced chunks of cheese, pickled beef imported from Nova Scotia, crispy salt bread, and a quartered mango. “It’s not much, but it’s yours.”
“Oh my goodness, it looks delicious!”
When they were seated close together on a mahogany chaise draped with a holland cover, Adam brought the tray up next to them. As they toasted and sipped warm champagne, Cathy looked around the library. A few more hours and they’d be done.
“Shall we start on Mother’s room next?” she asked while layering cheese and beef on top of buttered salt bread. The champagne made her feel as if she might burp.
“God, don’t call it that. I don’t want anything in Tempest Hall to be christened after your mother,” he said with a note of dark humor. “But yes, I suppose that the north bedroom should be our next project. Then, when these bookshelves have dried, we can return to the library and put all the books back. That should be amusing!”
“Drink your champagne and stop scowling.” Cathy’s eyes twinkled as she bit into her concoction, and Adam’s eyes danced back over the brim of his glass. Suddenly, unexpectedly, a warm tide of happiness rushed over her. Not only was she happy, but, it came to her, so was he.
“You look like the champagne just went to your head,” he remarked, squeezing her knee. “Either that or you’re having a reaction to the Canadian meat. I’ve never quite trusted that pickling business.”
Alice came over to sit and stare silently at them while they chewed their food, her eyes liquid with longing, and Cathy laughed. “Isn’t she adorable? And I find it wonderful that she still craves food at her advanced age.”
“She’s starting to drool. I despise that.”
The dog inched closer. When Adam sent her a dampening look, she quickly lay down, but her gaze was unwavering.
“Such devotion,” praised her mistress.
“You’ve spoiled her. There’s nothing worse than a spoiled Labrador retriever. We’ll never have a moment’s peace again.”
Cathy was elated. “I know. Isn’t it wonderful?” And then, she put tiny bits of cheese and meat on a napkin and gave Alice the treat.
“She will never forget that you have surrendered to her charm,” he said, aware of his own rising euphoria. They were having fun, and it hadn’t happened overnight. The days of shared work had gradually brought them close together, and now he looked at his wife’s flushed cheeks and soft mouth and paint-tipped nose and had a powerful urge to feel her body against him while they kissed. They ought to be enjoying this bizarre picnic in bed.
“I don’t know how to eat this mango,” Cathy was saying.
“Try scooping out the flesh with a spoon.”
She made a diligent attempt, working out her first bite of juicy fruit. But when it had popped free, it left the spoon, flew across the library, and landed on Adam’s account books.
“Oops.” Her face went rosy pink.
“I don’t think this is the right setting for a spoon,” he decided, trying to ignore the splat of mango on his precious books. “Just use your fingers.” When she gave him a doubtful look, Adam picked up one of the other pieces and held it in front of her mouth. “Go on, Cath. Take a bite, or suck on it, whichever strikes your fancy.”
She obeyed, feeling hedonistic as the juice from the tree-ripened fruit ran down her chin. It was more than her husband could bear. He put the tray on the floor and leaned over to gather her into his embrace. The old shirt of his that she wore had come unfastened, and over the top of her apron he could see the curve of her breast. Instantly, Adam was hard. Her upper lip, juicy and dark-pink was snubbed upward just like her freckle-dusted nose. All of her keenly appealed to him.
“Maybe the paint is making us a little mad,” Cathy whispered.
“No, not the paint.” He kissed her chin, tasting the mango juice, and then her parted lips. “Christ, but you are delicious.”
“I would have shared the mango with you, you know. You didn’t have to go to such lengths to get a taste... but I’m glad you did.”
She was beaming. Adam started to laugh, which made Alice approach the chaise, barking. The air was light with the joy they were creating together. “I’ve never known a woman like you, Cathy,” he said at last.
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” Her lids were heavy as she gazed up at the magnificent face she loved. Then, daringly, she slid her arms around his neck and drew him down to her. Their lips joined and their tongues met; Adam’s mouth slanted hungrily across hers. Cathy could hear two thudding heartbeats in her ears. He was lying fully on top of her now, crushing her breasts, making them ache with longing. The piece of mango had dropped between their bodies, and she could feel the juice soaking through her apron.
“Cathy, Cathy...” There was a catch in his voice as he kissed her cheekbones, the tender parts of her ear, her soft, sweet neck. One of his hands found its way up the shirt she was wearing and cupped her breast over the thin fabric of her chemise. He was burning for her.
She had never felt so swollen and wet, such yearning to have him touch her there. Her skirt was hitched up partway, and she wanted to spread her legs to him and feel his hardness against the most intimate part of her. She made primitive little sounds as they kissed, and her tongue hungrily reached out to his.