Emily French (27 page)

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Authors: Illusion

BOOK: Emily French
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There was a tiny moan, and Sophy knew in a dim way that she had uttered it. The tremble was back within her, a frenzied desire for more intimate contact. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face against his shoulder, almost afraid of the depth of her need for him.
Sophy felt an unknown force seeping into her body as if it came from Seth himself. Too, she became aware of an incipient urgency, a throbbing sensation deep in her stomach.
The liquid female fire within her leaped and surged, longing to engulf this other male flame, longing to fuse and become one with it. Awash with sensation, she could hear nothing but the roaring of her heart, compelling, demanding, surrendering.
She crushed herself against him, murmuring endearments. The taste of him was an intoxicating wine taken in through the senses. She trembled in his embrace as her thighs turned to liquid.
It was Seth who drew back, reluctantly, breathing fast, the timbre of his voice deep and husky. “I’m not having this.”
“Wh-what?”
“This is not the right time to renegotiate our contract. It is a matter of honor.”
He chuckled hoarsely and, though she could not see it, Sophy could sense the ghost of a smile on his lips. She could also sense the restraint he was exercising. She felt her heart contract, and struggled with her disappointment.
“Blast that stupid bargain! You know, sometimes I think...”
How could he not realize that the only thing she wanted was to stay here in the circle of his arms, to be drawn into the waiting pool of passion and excitement, his hard mouth on hers, his hard body her governor and shield against the world? All he could think of was to make her agree to the formal settlement of their contract!
She stood for a moment irresolute. It had all sounded so grand and heroic, this modern independence thing, but now it seemed really silly when she felt so soft and yielding. But a foolish, obstinate pride kept her from saying so.
“We can thrash it out later. Kiss me again here, just once more.”
Seth drew a deep breath, aware of the sexual voltage coursing between them, of himself on the verge of a powerful, all-consuming love. “Wherever and however you give yourself to me, Sophy, I should always consider it the most priceless gift in the world. I agree with you, we can thrash it out later, but not here.”
He leaned down to brush her mouth with his own. “That’ll do to be going on with.” He straightened up, smiling. “While we’re down here, do you still want to check out the contents of the cellar?”
Sophy screwed up her face. She locked both arms around his neck, hugged him fiercely. “You can wait for your cherry cake!”
They both laughed at that, and they did not stop until they were at the top of the stairs. It was good to be on familiar territory. To have Seth take command. To witness the easy, masculine authority of him as he summoned servants to his bidding. He was a man who inspired one with a comfortable feeling of security.
Good, too, to have Tessa sweep her away to a hot bath, marvel over her misadventure, wonder at Seth’s ingenuity and, generally, fuss over her. She was a little unnerved by all that had happened that day, so the pampering was savored.
An odd thought flew through her head like a bird, circling in the sky of her mind.
The fault is not in our stars, but in ourselves
. She felt all her old buoyancy surge over her.
There
was
a way!
It was like a salmon struggling upstream, fiercely fighting the current. The key was within. Seth must find the hurdle within himself and make the leap. She was quite certain of that now. Seth was a man who could be taught how to love. He just needed a little practice.
The gaslight shone brightly on the walls and ceiling, only the bed was in shadow. Light and shadow, love and laughter, a crazy quilt of images,
the most priceless gift in the world.
Think of it! All that loving saved up for her, only for her.
Sophy’s heart sighed, contented.
Chapter Fourteen
 
 
I
t was while he was bathing that Seth’s reasoning processes finally began to function again. He stretched his long legs outward into the hot sudsy water, sighing deeply. It had been a long hard day, full of concern for Charles and fear for Sophy’s well-being.
Thunder still boomed, made dull and echoey by distance, but the rain had ceased. Racing clouds ran before the wind, but they were no longer heavy and threatening. At intervals, they slid apart and the cool opalescent light of the full moon illuminated the sky.
A nagging self-blame had invaded his mind since he’d discovered Sophy trapped in the cellar. But now the hot water was working its magic on his tensed body, loosening his knotted muscles, the cords in his neck and shoulders relaxing, the day’s accumulated tension leaching away from him.
Not that his anxiety about the entire incident had disappeared completely, but somehow the perilous urgency of that thought was fading. As he had interrogated the servants, the edge of his anger had dulled. Never suspecting anybody would be down there at night, a very repentant butler confessed to locking the cellar door.
Sophy came to Seth’s room, a feeling of vast happiness expanding inside her. Love was warm and comforting and tender. Love was... “Seth, I...” Her words trailed away in confusion.
She swallowed, her hands tightening on the brass knob. Golden shadows from the fireplace flickered on the sinewy sleekness of Seth’s chest and shoulders as he lay in a hip bath. His shuttered gaze reflected that peculiar hot light that often crept into his eyes when he stared at her.
“Well, come on in,” Seth rasped with feigned impatience. “Don’t just stand there letting in the cold air.”
Sophy hesitated again. “I’m not sure...”
“You want your pound of flesh, don’t you?” he taunted in a rough growl, deliberately closing his eyes.
What a strange phrase for him to use, Sophy thought vaguely, edging into the room. She went on watching him, tracing each contour of his head and face as if she were touching him physically. There was power in that face, the lines the burden of command had etched into it, giving it character and substance.
Slowly, his heart beating faster than he would have wished, Seth opened his eyes. She stared down at him for an instant and something flickered in her gaze. Satisfaction? Pride? It was as if he were her secret treasure.
He sucked in his breath. Nothing in his life had prepared him for Sophy. Everything in his life seemed a little brighter for her presence.
His chest rose and fell as he drew in a deep breath. Despite all his military training, his careful discipline, his sharp intellect, he felt lost beside her, as if she were a doorway to some world for which he had been totally unprepared.
Tiny, feathered lines radiated from Seth’s eyes, but there was no mistaking that she bad kindled something fierce and hot in those glistening blue eyes. It was like being wrapped and caught in an embrace. A new delight that made her thighs tremble, her throat constrict.
Sophy pressed a small hand to herself in the region of her waist. Suddenly she started to lose her nerve and turned to leave.
With surprising agility, given the nature of his handicap, Seth surged from the tub and moved around behind her, cutting off her retreat. He was standing naked, legs braced slightly apart.
“Welcome to my parlor, little fly.”
The sight of Seth’s powerful torso and long muscular legs sent a spasm of excitement through Sophy. She wanted to rush forward, to embrace him, to love him. She wanted to step back, away, to break the magic spell that bound her, to flee...to flee...but she was powerless.
“Not retreating, Sophy? Not when your ambush worked so well!” Self-deprecating humor lacing his low-pitched voice, Seth glanced down at himself. The overwhelming physical testimony of that simple truth was quite apparent in his rampant manhood.
Moisture filmed his body. Little runnels of water streamed through the shadowy hair on his chest, flowing down to bead the dark forest at the base of his trunk like pearls on a seabed. Glory! There was even a drop quivering on the tip of...
Face blazing, Sophy shifted her eyes from the bold and blatant evidence of his masculinity to his face. That was a mistake. Staring into those all-knowing eyes, it was difficult to think.
The air between them seemed to tremble.
Sophy made a sharp movement, a movement that was almost fierce. Her head came up. A wave of color heated her face, and her eyes darkened to a stormy violet.
At this moment, clad only in his masculine boldness, Seth felt strangely vulnerable. If she would just take one step toward him, he would gladly surrender, tell her what he knew she wanted to hear.
“I’ve found out something you ought to know.” The words trembled on Sophy’s lips. She heard them in her mind, but they were never uttered. Her lips murmured something soft and indistinguishable.
She lifted a hand, wiped back a stray strand of hair behind one ear. The long-sleeved cotton nightgown billowed around her bare ankles and her hair was an ebony ribbon of silk, but she was totally unaware of the soft, inviting picture she made.
Seth drew a breath as if about to plunge into a cold stream, and his black brows met above his brooding eyes. Something fierce showed in his blue eyes.
Sophy watched his eyes follow her hand, and wondered whether she ought to tell him about her meeting with Charles. It might be the wrong time. She didn’t want to destroy that expression of hungry longing on his face. Why? Why? She asked the question, but she did not seek the answer. She already knew.
“Have you decided?” Seth asked her suddenly, and his voice sounded hoarse and unlike himself. He seemed rooted to the spot, transfixed. Despite himself, Seth felt the quickness of his pulse, the heat of his own breath firing in his throat. He wanted this woman with all his being, wherever she would lead him, at whatever cost.
Sophy gazed at him in growing uncertainty. Licking a drop that had landed on his lip, he met her eyes with perfect composure. He was not touching her, yet was all around her, enveloping, encircling, enclosing, filling her insides with warmth and softness.
It was becoming impossible to think.
At the sight of him, naked, all wet and dripping, something inside her, high up at the top of her brain, seemed to rise, beginning to float away. She had to get a grip on her emotions. In the morning, she told herself, she would sort it all out.
Right now, she could only surrender to the pull of this unbearable attraction. Standing before her without the faintest hint of shame, with that careless animal magnetism of his that made him in some fashion superb, he drew her toward him. She could not help herself.
It was as if he’d deliberately entered her mind. As if he had used some magic of his own to conjure up the desire that only he could quench, all she wanted was for him to lead her to that tingling secret world where carnality was all.
Ignoring her common sense, her inner self leaped over the bounds of her being and demanded to be joined, made double, made whole. Somehow the distance between them was closing. There seemed to be no conscious volition on either of their parts.
Sophy stepped closer, her fragrance enveloping him. A warm wind blew through his soul and he closed his eyes as he felt her arms steal about him, her lips trace the contours of his cheek. She paused as if uncertain whether to go on, then, standing on tiptoe, she gave him his answer with a feathery kiss.
“Yes.” The syllable came out in a gasp, but it sounded so right, so perfect, it might have been intended since time began.
Sophy shuddered as Seth suddenly surged against her, his maleness asserting itself, the impact of him a shock to her senses. She gave a small cry deep in her throat and he swallowed the sound hungrily.
They strained to each other, mouths mingling and exploring. Seth’s hands caressed her back, moving down to draw her even closer to him. In a haze, Sophy was aware of the gentle drift of his fingers against her skin and the warmth of his mouth tracing lazy kisses along her jaw.
“This is how it should be.” He kissed the tip of her nose. In a haze, her hands moved up the back of his neck and entwined in his hair, pulling his head down to hers with a sigh of yielding abandon. Her palms were damp, Sophy realized vaguely. His mouth returned to possess hers with a tenderness that stirred her heart.
Her fingers traced his earlobe, his neck, the rough hair at the nape, liking the way it felt. She nuzzled her face into the curve between his shoulder and his neck. Her tongue licked the hollow at the side of his neck before, lost in pleasure, she gave him a little nip.
Rubbing her cheek against his big warm chest, Sophy found the dark shadowed places, the damp texture of hair. She found it fascinating, and burrowed her face and fingers through it. Her hands caressed the springy texture, enjoying the way it curled around her fingers, sprang back into tight curls. She turned her head to sample one masculine nipple with the tip of her tongue, and Seth tensed, groaning.
The fingers that had been tugging at the ribbon fastenings of her night rail finally worked them free, and curved to cup the smooth, pale flesh of the breast they had exposed. Her breasts were high and round, the dark nipples gathered now into thrusting peaks clamoring for his touch.
“Please,” she begged, not knowing if she meant him to stop or continue. “Please.”
Seth touched the tip of one nipple as if it were a valuable gem, delighted when Sophy nestled closer. Endlessly gentle, he nuzzled the soft skin beneath her breast, his tongue making ever decreasing circles around the globe until he reached his goal.
Sophy was unaware of holding her breath until she released it with a shudder as his lips closed warmly over her nipple. She was only aware of an inordinate pleasure pooling in her loins. There was a sound, a moan, from her own throat, she realized, thick with a growing urgency.
His fingers seared her skin everywhere he touched as he divested her of her cotton night rail. As his hands molded her breasts and slid over the curves and hollows of her body, Sophy felt the sweet tingling surge of desire deep within her. The feel of his lips on her mouth, murmuring her name over and over, was the sweetest sound she had ever heard.
Slowly, gently, Seth lifted her onto the bed and cradled her against his body. There was no passionate demand in his embrace, even though his hard lean body surged continually against her in minute ripples. His eyes glowing with some inner fire, he shifted slowly onto his back, inviting her touch.
Seth could feel her trembling response as she flowed, all soft and pliant woman, against him. There was a tightening in his stomach. His heart was racing, knocking against his ribs.
Her hair floated over him, drawing forth a deep, guttural groan that told Sophy of his rising need. She wanted to touch, to hold, with a wantonness that took her by surprise. His body was firm and corded, the wide muscular chest, where the strong heart raced beneath her palms, all damp and silky.
The hard ridge of his backbone was strength to her, the soft indentation at the base of his spine was gentleness. Her hands traced circles across his chest, belly, nipples, while her lips hovered at the edge of all of this new territory she wanted to make her own.
Trembling with the force of her excitement and growing need, she passed a hand across that flesh at the core of his being. His breath sharpened involuntarily. She teased gently, every movement incredibly slow, infinitely tantalizing, touching him with questing fingertips, drawing out his own ribboning desire.
Suddenly he had moved, and his fingers caressed her contours as if he were a blind man needing to imprint their image on his mind forever. He was making her feel as though she was floating on a cloud of pleasure. Her fingers caressed his ears as his tongue streaked hotly across her nipples.
Strong hands moved over her from ankle to throat, learning and possessing every place in between. Then, his hand was at that other secret place, where all sensation lodged. A sudden shyness caught Sophy unexpectedly, and she clenched her thighs together tightly.
“Open yourself, my love. Let it go. Any way you want, any way you ever imagined. Come on, I’ll show you.”
Gentle caressing voice, even though she could hear his fierce breathing. Gentle caressing hand, even though he held her anchored, as though he already possessed her. The momentary stiffening in her spine and legs slowly relaxed as his fingers lightly, delicately, danced over her feminine center.
Something indeed was opening within her, like a flower new to the sun. Opening and releasing a stream of sweetness, which carried her along on its hot, demanding flood. Felt the shaking begin, deep inside her.
He raised his head, and took her mouth. One of his hands smoothed her thigh, her hip, her waist, until she made a small impatient noise. He threaded his hands through her long, silken hair, and spread it out like a fan over her breasts, laughing as its lustrous, dark strands separated, her nipples peeping through the veil like inquisitive mice.

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