DeButy & the Beast (33 page)

"We cannot let everyone know that I am going to stay, not until I have a chance to tell Sebastian. I owe him that much."

"You owe him nothing," Julian seethed.
 

"I will tell him tonight," she whispered as she walked by. "I am going upstairs to take a nap,
cher
," she added. "Perhaps you would care to join me?" With that she walked on, exiting the foyer just before Seymour stepped into view.

Chapter 20

He had planned to give Anya a five-minute head-start, no more, before joining her, but after she ran up the stairs and Seymour left by way of the front door, there was another interruption. Mrs. Sedley appeared almost on Seymour's heels.

"Julian," she said, her voice too lively. "Just the man I wanted to see."

"What can I do for you, Mrs. Sedley?" he asked.
And make it snappy
.

Her smile faded. "There's no one else I can turn to," she said in a lowered voice, taking Julian's arm and leading him into the south parlor. "What are we going to do?" she whispered. "How are we going to keep Anya here where she belongs?"

He opened his mouth to tell her that Anya had already decided not to return to Puerta Sirena, but something stopped him. "I'm doing my best," he said simply.

"She can't go back there," the old woman said desperately. "All the wasted years! I need her here, Julian. She cannot leave. All my children are gone. First Ellis left me, and then Robert, and now Valerie. I can't lose Anya again. I would do anything to keep her here."

"Anything?"
Including having me shanghaied
? His heart hitched. "What do you suggest?"

"She loves you. You can convince her to stay."

He considered telling her that he and Anya would not be staying here in this house. Good heavens, suddenly it was all so clear. Elizabeth Sedley had bought him as Anya's husband knowing he would leave, knowing he and Anya would never suit. The prudish doctor and the love goddess. Who would've thought they would fall in love?

"And once that's done," the woman continued, "you'll have to convince Anya that she can't travel, not in her delicate condition."

"Travel?"

"She told me that the two of you would... sail around the world, or some such nonsense," Mrs. Sedley said, her temper short, red spots flaring up on her cheeks.

So that's what had triggered the kidnapping. How far would the old woman go? What lengths would she take to keep Anya here? "Perhaps I could kill him," Julian suggested in a lowered voice.

"What?" she snapped.

"Anya's king. I don't like him much, and neither do you. Don't tell me murder never crossed your mind."

"Well," she said, her face turning deep pink. "I might've thought of it, but I dismissed the idea of killing as extreme. If you think that's best, though..."

She was quite willing to be a party to murder. Elizabeth Sedley truly would do anything to get her way.

"I'll think it over," he said, shaking his head. Sick inside not only that this woman he had once admired had turned out to be so devious, but that he would have to tell Anya. The news would break her heart, and he didn't want to hurt her again.

* * *

Julian burst into the room without warning, but Anya was ready. Her prim clothes had been discarded, her hair had been loosened and brushed out, and she sat on the side of the bed waiting for her husband to come to her, as he had said he would.

To think, she had almost left him! The power of her love for him was so strong that it scared her, but she would not turn her back on that love again. She would not pretend that she did not need him.

He should be as happy as she was, but he did not look at all pleased, as he closed and locked the door behind him.

Whatever was wrong, she would make it better. She lifted her hand and invited him to her. She smiled, to let him know without words that she loved him.

"Oh, Anya," he said as he walked to her. "I did so want everything here to be perfect for you."

"Nothing is perfect," she said as he sat beside her. The bed dipped under his weight and she rolled into him, her body searching out his warmth and support. "But if I have you, everything will be fine. Perfect or not."

He lost his hands in her hair, held her body against his as if he searched for the same comfort she did. "I've never in all my life wanted to protect anyone or anything the way I want to protect you. I want to keep everything ugly and hurtful away from you. You've been hurt enough."

"Something is wrong."

"Yes." He nodded slightly. "I'm afraid so."

"And you must tell me what it is that bothers you so?"

"Yes."

"Can it wait until after you make love to me?" She raised her head, brushed aside a length of dark hair, and kissed the side of Julian's neck. He smelled so good, he tasted of love and warmth. Her fingers raked over his beard-roughened cheek.

"I don't want to do this, but I really should get it over with," he muttered.

She laid on her back and drew him down with her. "No. Things are not always going to be as perfect as we want them to be. When that happens, we should learn to stop time for a while."

"Stop time?"

"Time should stop for love, do you not think?"

"It's a nice idea, but..."

She began to unfasten the buttons of his shirt.

"Until I came here, I did not even know what love was."

"But you were a love goddess," he said, muttering the words that so obviously hurt him, still.

"A love goddess who knew nothing of love," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You were a most excellent teacher,
marido
," she whispered.

He smiled when she called him husband. "And you have always been an excellent student, my love."

She pressed her body snugly against his, arching her back, winding her legs around his. "We must stop expecting perfection, I suppose. Storms will come, and they might bring pain and confusion and fear, but it should all stop for love. If we can make time stop for love, then nothing can ever tear us apart again." She reached between their bodies and touched him. "See? You want me. No matter that things are not perfect, no matter that a storm may be coming."

"All right," he said huskily, lowering his head to kiss her neck. "You've convinced me. It can wait. Everything can wait."

She had forgotten how much she loved this, the feel of the length of his body along hers, the heat and tenderness of his mouth, the urgency that began to grow, so slowly, from the first moment he touched her.

How could she tell him that none of her teachings on the island had ever prepared her for the perfect melding of sex and love? That with him she experienced something she had never expected, a powerful joining that went beyond the physical. She did not have to tell him, she suspected. He knew.

She helped him shed his clothes, never hurrying and yet with that underlying urgency coloring each and every movement. Julian was hers. Her husband, her lover, her friend.

"I was so afraid I would never see you again," she whispered as he aligned his body to hers.

"Don't be afraid," he said, taking her face in his hands and kissing her deep. "Not ever again. You have to know I would never leave you. Life would be too hard without you. It wouldn't be life at all."

"I love you," she whispered, and he surged forward to fill her waiting body.

They came together like lovers who had been apart too long. Fast and furious, they reached for each other. They danced and swayed in their own time, their joining primitive and still delicately lovely. Intense pleasure built to a fever's pitch and then broke over them at once. Anya cried out, and Julian caught her cry through parted lips. She caught his growl on her tongue, tasted his pleasure and his sharp surrender.

For a long while his body rested over hers, protective and loving. Anya lay there with her hands threaded through long strands of dark hair. Time truly had stopped. Nothing else mattered but this.

Finally, he raised up and looked down at her. The unhappy indecision had come back. He brushed the hair away from her face and made a poor attempt at a smile. "I think I know who tried to have me shanghaied."

"Who?" she whispered.

He kissed her forehead, with tenderness and an offering of comfort that only he could give. "Your grandmother," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Anya. I'm so sorry."

"Did she tell you this?"

"No. But..." He shook his head. "She's willing to do anything to keep you here. You told her you and I would travel together?"

"Yes. I would not ask you to give up your dream for me."

"You are my dream," he whispered.

"Grandmother?" Anya asked, more confused than ever. "She is the one who tried to take you from me?"

Julian nodded. "I can't prove it, not yet... but I think she's the one. As soon as I hear from Jeremiah, I'll have the proof I need."

* * *

Sebastian stepped into the silent, empty kitchen. Where was she?

He had never met a woman like Betsy. Last night, after he had eaten and they had talked for a while, she had finally allowed him to touch her. Gently, quickly, and not at all in the manner he desired. She had refused to take off her clothes. She hadn't even removed her apron!

Such prudish behavior should have angered him, it should have sent him running to Maida. But it had not. Instead he had settled down to a night of dreams the like of which he had never known.

"Betsy," he whispered, walking toward the back door. He noticed the narrow doorway at the back of the room. It opened onto a slender hallway and more rooms. He had not known a house could be so large! His entire village could likely live here in comfort.

"Betsy?" he whispered again. From not so far away, he heard a bed squeak. Sebastian stepped gingerly, on bare feet, down the narrow hallway. He peeked through first one doorway and then another. Finally, he peeked into a small room and saw Betsy laying on the bed. She was fully dressed, all the way down to her apron, and she lay on her side with her cheek resting against her hands. Like a child, and then not at all like a child.

He would let her sleep, he decided. She worked too hard and likely needed her rest. Sebastian leaned against the doorjamb and stared at Betsy. How he would love to take her home with him. She would never again have to cook, unless she wished to do so. She would never again be forced to rise at dawn to prepare breakfast for a house full of people, or to slave over a hot stove all day, until she was so tired she slept... like this.

She stirred on the bed, opened her eyes, and when she saw him standing there she sat up quickly, bringing her hands to her chest. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," he said.

Her eyes were pinned to his bare chest, then they snapped up to his face. "You shouldn't be here," she whispered. "I might get fired."

He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Betsy's face flushed pink, but she didn't tell him to get out. "No one will dismiss you," he promised. "I would not allow it."

She shook her head. "Well, you won't be here forever, and once you're gone Mrs. Sedley will do exactly as she pleases. She always does."

"Do you like working here?" he took another step toward the bed.

"Most of the time," she said softly.

"Do you ever wish for... more?"

"Of course I do," she snapped.

"Do you ever wish for a man?"

"Never," she said sternly, but again her face flushed pink, and her lower lip trembled.

"Do you wish to remain a virgin forever?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Betsy threw her legs over the side of the bed. "I told you last night, I don't want children. What other reason is there for... you know?" This time she turned a bright red. "Oh, I can't believe I said that." She pointed at the door. "Get out."

"Why?"

"Because you shouldn't be here. It isn't right and you... you... you disturb me."

Sebastian smiled. "What if I could show you a very good reason not to remain a virgin, and yet you would still be a virgin when I was finished with you?"

"There's nothing you can say..."

"You liked it when I touched you last night," he said, taking another step closer. "When I laid my hands on your breasts, when I kissed your neck. You did like it. Did you not?"

"A little."

Sebastian grinned. She lied so badly! "No one has ever touched you that way before."

"No."

He sat on the bed beside her. "Let me touch you again. I promise, you will be left with your precious virginity."

"Then I suppose it would be all right," she conceded. "As long as no one knows! Mrs. Sedley would fire me just for having you in my room."

"No one will know," he promised. "Lie down."

"But..."

He laid his finger over her lips to silence her. "Lie down," he repeated in a lowered voice.

She did, twisting her body around, falling slowly back until her head hit the pillow. She lay there stiffly, waiting.

"Close your eyes," he commanded, and she obeyed. He lay down beside her, stretching the length of his body alongside hers. The bed was too short for him, but he paid that inconvenience no mind. "We are on Puerta Sirena," he said lowly. "On the beach. There is no one else on the beach but you and me. No one for miles and miles. The sun shines warm on your face, the water laps just a few feet away."