The Bride of Willow Creek(72)

“I think I’ll make you some coffee.”

“I don’t want this evening to end,” she said, standing in the center of the kitchen, her eyes closed, swaying to remembered music. A smile played around her lips. Lamplight glowed golden on the swell of her breasts above her neckline.

There was no creature on earth as beautiful as a happy woman. She took his breath away. And when she opened her eyes and smiled at him, his arousal was immediate and powerful.

“Kiss me again, Sam,” she said in a husky voice that resonated through his body.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, crushing the poofy little sleeves of her gown. “I don’t want to take advantage of you, Angie,” he said gruffly, trying to ignore his rampant desire. “We’ve both had a lot of champagne. It would be easy to do something that we’ll regret in the morning.”

Stepping close, she raised her arms and reached around his neck to open the ribbon tying back his hair. The scent of powder and rose water enveloped his senses and a low groan rumbled in his throat. His hands dropped to her waist and slid lower, and he pressed her to him, feeling the heat and length of her thighs beneath the layers of skirts and petticoats.

She raised her face and gazed at him with black eyes that became seductive when she looked at his mouth, and Sam knew without a doubt where a kiss would take them.

Staring into her eyes, he recognized the moment when she, too, understood that another kiss would be a beginning. A flame had ignited on the hotel terrace when he kissed her and every glance since, every touch, every smile, every small movement had wound the tension a little tighter, had made the fire a little hotter, and had swept them closer to this moment of decision.

She wound her fingers through his loose hair. “At first I didn’t like your long hair. I thought it made you look like a pirate.”

His fingers found the satin-covered buttons running from the nape of her neck to her waist. He pressed his lips to her forehead and murmured against her skin. “Say no, Angie, and it stops right here.”

“Yes.” Her arms went around him and she turned her head to rest her cheek on his chest beneath his chin. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Do you know what you’re saying? What you’re deciding?”

The back of the gown was opened almost to her waist, and he felt her shudder as his fingers brushed warm, bare skin.

Then her head fell backward and she gazed at him from half-closed eyes. “Sam?”

He bent to kiss her throat, inhaled the scented powder on her breasts, felt her tremble beneath his lips. “Hmmm?”

“If you can’t say something romantic or nice, don’t say anything at all.”

He jerked upright to stare at the smile on her parted lips. “I just want to be sure that you know that we’re about to—”

She pressed a finger across his lips. “Sam? Hush.” Raising on tiptoe, she bit him lightly on the chin. “I’m a grown woman in full possession of my faculties. I know what we’re doing.”

He wasn’t so sure about the last. Her faculties were soaked in champagne, and she couldn’t really know what they were doing because she hadn’t done it before. But he’d satisfied the laws of decency and gentlemanly behavior; he’d acted as honorably as a man could given the circumstances. Now he could give in to his own champagne-soaked desires.

This time when he kissed her, he didn’t hold back. The passion he’d first felt ten years ago shook him with his need for her. When he released her mouth, they were both breathing raggedly, and Angie was wide-eyed and gasping.

He pushed down the top of her gown and she drew her arms out of the sleeves, then he slid the satin over her hips and let her gown and petticoats puddle around her ankles on the kitchen floor.

She stood before him with the hair ornament trembling on her head, wearing long gloves, a lace-edged French corset, white pantaloons, and white stockings. The lamplight made her eyes shine and her skin glow.

Slowly Sam removed his jacket and pulled the studs from his shirtfront and cuffs, not taking his eyes off of her. She raised her arms and removed the hair ornament, then pulled the pins from her coiffure. A rich wave of reddish brown tumbled down her back and around her shoulders, and Sam sucked in a breath.

She wet her lips and watched him tear off his shirt and throw it behind him. Then she wiggled out of her pantaloons.

He would have liked to finish undressing her in the lamplight, but this was her first experience. She would find comfort in darkness. Crossing to her, he swept her into his arms and carried her into his bedroom. After he pulled off his trousers, he knelt before her, rolled her garters down her legs, and peeled off her stockings, then sat beside her on the bed and unlaced her corset.