Again (30 page)

The steady pounding of her heart turned to a stutter when she saw one of the men was indeed Jonathan.
 

One of the men spoke to Jonathan, gesturing in her direction.  He turned and looked at her, with a smile spread wide across his face. 

She dismounted, unable to contain her excitement.

Just inside the wave break, the boat was pushed onto the wet sand by the churning water and the three men jumped out to drag it higher on the beach.
 

Letting it go, Jonathan turned and broke into a run and in a moment he was there.
 
She screamed in delight as he lifted her and spun around, holding her tight to his chest.
 
Barely letting her toes touch the sand, he buried his face in her hair, his lips brushing her cheek.

“Catherine,” he murmured.  “I could not leave.
 
Not yet.”

She eased her head back, savoring the tingling of her skin where his lips planted gentle kisses along her neck.
 
Her hands tangled in his thick locks, pulling him closer.
 
How could this be so wrong?
  
Her breaths came in short bursts now, no longer able to deny what she needed.
 
She slid her hands down to hold his face.

His eyes glittered with the same fever she felt rage through her blood.
 
His lips parted in a slow, seductive curve.

Pulling him close, she pressed her mouth to his, seeking the intimacy and warmth of his tongue.
 
She relearned the softness of his lips, savoring how they molded so perfectly to hers.
 
She did not understand what possessed her when he was near.
 
She was reckless in his arms and made bold by the freedom she tasted on his lips.
 
She could not, would not, think of anything beyond this moment.
 
She clung to him because that is where she belonged.

Shouts of encouragement from down the beach filtered through her haze. 

Jonathan groaned as he pulled away and lowered her gently to the sand.  “It seems that my men approve.”

“As do I,” she said weakly.  It was as if she had taken a draught, one that would render her body unable to move, yet she felt incredibly alive.

His finger traced the delicate line of her jaw and down to the soft spot on her neck where her pulse gave away the intensity of her desire.

“Come with me, Catherine.  Come sail with me.”
 
He leaned closed, brushing his lips upon her ear.

His soft breath upon her skin sent a delicious chill along her spine.  Visions of sailing the open waters, her hair catching in the wind, with Jonathan at her side, engulfed her.
 
Then, other visions intruded:
 
Elderidge on the distant horizon.  Galen standing on the cliffs, wondering, searching.

Suddenly, the magic was broken.
 
What was she thinking?
 
She knew what her duty was.
 
She drew a trembling breath and pressed her forehead against his chest.  “I cannot.  As much as I would so desire to sail with you, my destiny still remains here.”

His hands moved up and down the length of her back with soothing strokes.  “Destiny is what we make it to be.  It does not make us.”  He drew back and lifted her chin.  “It is a choice we all have.”

She shook her head.  “No, you do not understand.  You do not know what it is like to have such responsibilities.
 
I am bound by my station.
 
There are certain expectations.”

His eyebrows raised, he said softly, “I do understand.
 
More than you realize.” 
He paused a moment before a gleam danced in his eyes.  “Come, let us enjoy the day.”
 
He laughed, taking her hand and running down the beach.  His enthusiasm was contagious as he pulled her along with him.
 

She ran with him, her skirts clutched in her hand, squealing as she tried to avoid the water rushing upon the shore.

“Am I correct in assuming you have never placed your feet in the water, milady?” he
asked.

She stopped, quite out of breath, her face flushed.  “I most certainly have,” she said with indignation.  “My mother brought us here when we were children.”
 
She pointed down the beach.
 
“I remember very well gathering shells and exploring the caves hidden in the cliffs.”

“Ah, but do you truly remember the feeling?” he challenged.  His face was close to hers now, his breath sweet upon her face.

She lifted the hem of her dress and looked down at her slippers and hose, the only things that kept her away from the cool water.

He gently squeezed her hand. 
“Go on.”

Glancing to where the boat had been pulled ashore, she was surprised to see it gone. 

In answer to the question in her eyes, Jonathan said, “They’ll be back later.”

She realized that for this moment, nay, for this day, she was free.
 
No one was about, except her and Jonathan.
 
There were no boundaries.
 
She could not stop the smile that ached her cheeks as she looked at Jonathan.
 
Just for one day, she would
not
do what was expected of her.
 

Oh, I may pay for this recklessness, but I will live!

She took him by the shoulders and spun him around.
 
“Hide your eyes.”
 
She pushed him gently towards the water.
 
“And do not turn back to me until I say to.”

She pulled up her skirt hem enough to remove her slippers and hose, and carefully lay them aside.
 
With her feet now naked in the warm sand, she sifted the rough grains between her toes and looked at Jonathan.
 
He stood at the water’s edge, facing the ocean, hands clasped behind his back.  His unbound hair, held back by the breeze, flowed freely over wide shoulders, his pants tightly gripping his legs.
 

Yes. This day is my own.

“Turn around,” she commanded, and laughed as she wiggled her foot,
showing him her feet were bare.

He beckoned her to the water’s edge.  “After you, milady,” he said, with a most courtly bow.

She inclined her head in response and stood tentatively in the water, her skirts lifted modestly above her ankles.  It felt cool against her skin, the small waves swirling sand over her feet. 

“Oh!  I cannot move my feet!” she laughed, fighting to keep her balance.  Jonathan was there in a moment, holding her firm about her waist.  Laughing, she spun around and scooped water, splashing Jonathan before he knew what she was about. 

He started toward her, feigning a menacing look.

“’Tis not fair play!  You cannot accost a lady!” she admonished.  She turned and ran as fast as she could, her gown dragging in the water.

“’Tis not fair, you say?” he laughed as he gave chase. 

Lunging toward her, he lost his footing and landed in the water.  He rolled onto his back, his chest heaving with laughter.

Catherine spun around to face him.

“You are a sprite, milady,” he said, panting.  He held his hand out.  “Pray, have mercy on me and help me rise.
”

She stopped just beyond his reach and eyed him cautiously, an eyebrow raised, questioning his intentions.
 
He looked at her with such innocence, her caution melted away.  She offered her hand, but lost her balance when he pulled her down into the water next to him.

“Now
this
is fair play!” His laughter flowed at her scowl.

“Oh...you!”  She lunged at him, but he caught her wrists and held her at a distance, but close enough for her to feel the heat of his body.

She stopped struggling against him knowing full well she was no match for his strength, nor did she
wish
to struggle against him.
 
She was just happy to be so near.

He was too beautiful for words.
 
His hair was tousled, dripping wet about his face and his wide grin revealed perfectly straight white teeth. 

She bit her lip, her body already reacting to the knowledge of what it felt like to touch his chest and the rippling lines of his stomach.

Then she giggled, imaging what a sight she must be.  Her own hair had fallen about her shoulders, wet with the salty water, and her dress, soaked through, felt tight against her skin.
 
Suddenly, she was all too aware of his searing gaze.

She had one day alone with him.
 
One day to explore the depths of her feelings for him.
 
She wanted, nay,
needed
to be truly one with him.
 
She looked around.
 
The beach, though empty, provided little privacy.
 
There is one place, she thought, that could offer such; a cave, where as a child, she hid to escape the pain of her mother’s death.
 

“Come with me.”
 
She pulled her wrists from his grasp and stood.

He studied her with narrowed eyes, twinkling slivers of amusement.
 
“What revenge do you have planned for me?” he teased.
 
“Should I be frightened?”

She considered what she was about to do.
 
“Nay.”
 
A blush colored her cheeks.
 
She ducked her head, avoiding his eyes.
 
“It is I who should be frightened.”

She turned and began the walk toward the rocky walls that turned sharply to face the ocean, leaving Jonathan to scramble to his feet and chase after her.

“I’d follow you anywhere, Catherine, but might you tell me where you are leading me?”

She glanced sideways at him.
 
The desire in his eyes had cooled a bit, replaced with curiosity.
 

“A place I went as a child when I wanted to be alone.
 
‘Tis there, around those rocks.
 
I do not believe many know of it.”

“And you trust me with this knowledge?” he laughed.

Catherine nodded, granting him a small smile.
 
If only he knew what else I will trust him with.

They rounded the rocks, stepping gingerly over the seaweed sprawled on the sand, its salty stench assaulting their noses.
 
She peered around the corner.
 
There it was.
 
The gaping hole in the cliff.
 
Over time the entrance had eroded further by the punishing assault of the waves.

She ducked her head to step into the cave and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness inside.
 
The air smelled dank, causing her to wrinkle her nose, but was much the same as she remembered it.
 
The sand where she stood never dried, she recalled, but farther inside the cave, where it sloped upwards, the sand was soft and untouched by the tide.

“Catherine?”

She turned as the already dim light darkened even more.
 
The mouth of the cave was blocked by Jonathan’s silhouette, his shoulders almost spanning the width of the entrance.
 
The walls reverberated with his potency.
 

With trembling hands, she pulled on the ties of her gown.
 
She breathed deeply as the bodice loosened and she felt the gown fall away slightly from her skin.
 
As the moments passed, anticipation took to seed, growing palpably around them.
 
Jonathan moved not a muscle, though Catherine could see his body poised and controlled.
 
Keeping her eyes on him, she slid her gown off her shoulders and carefully pushed the sleeves down her arms.
 
For a moment her courage waned and she stopped, feeling woefully inexperienced in the art of seduction.

Jonathan instantly closed the gap between them and tangled his hand in her hair, pulling her face to his.
 
His kiss was hot, fierce, instantly setting her on fire.
 
He teased her mouth until she parted her lips.
 
His tongue, velvet heat, stroked her own and branded it as his.
 

She released the grip on her gown and twined her arms about his neck.
 
She could taste in his kiss that he wanted her as desperately as she wanted him.
 
It was a heady feeling, an aphrodisiac that took over.
 
“Touch me,” she whispered against his lips.
 

He pulled back and looked down upon her for a long, agonizing moment.
 
“Catherine…”

Her body ached for his touch.
 
Anywhere and everywhere.
 
“Please.”

Slowly, with one hand still fisted in her hair, Jonathan trailed the other down her neck to rest just above the soft swell of her breasts.
 

She arched and pressed upwards in encouragement.
 
“Please,” she begged again.
 

His fingers tugged at the top of her gown and gently pulled it down, freeing her from the confines of the fabric.