Into the Woods (12 page)

The carriage came to a halt in the shade of a grove of pine and oak trees, and Vanessa waited. Johnny opened the door and offered his hand, and she took it, stepping gracefully from the carriage and onto the ground.

It was pleasantly cool here, with a breeze coming off the water of the pond so near. She loved this place for an afternoon picnic. The trees were ancient and sheltering, the water was somehow calming, and here she was not on public display; there was no one for miles around.

Johnny collected her picnic basket and a thin collection of poetry, as well as a thick blanket he expertly snapped open and spread in the shade. Once again he took her hand, as she gracefully lowered herself to sit on the blanket. He placed the picnic basket and the book at her side.

She lifted her head to look up at him, and she smiled. He was so beautiful—tall and strong, everything a man should be. His thick black hair curled just slightly. He had magnificent blue eyes and dimples that were absolutely adorable, set in a face of even, classic features that belonged on a marble statue of a Greek god.

Vanessa prized beauty above all things; her own and that of everything around her. Her clothes, her jewelry, her home... all were things of beauty. She despised all things ugly as much, or more, than she adored things of beauty. They offended her sensibilities.

She patted the space at her side. "Sit with me, Johnny," she commanded. He obeyed, as he always did.

He smiled at her, bringing those dimples into play. Yes, there was nothing on earth as beautiful as the man who had been her lover for the past two years.

Well, almost her lover. When she leaned forward and asked it of him, whispering a husky "Kiss me," he complied. Softly at first and then harder, as if he couldn't get enough of her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with everything she had, plunging her tongue into his mouth, tasting him, teasing him.

Inside, she melted. Her knees felt weak, her heart beat fast, her blood roared. Heavens, she craved this, sometimes. Yearned for the feel of Johnny's mouth on hers.

They kissed for a while, soft and then deep. Easy and then hard. Finally she took her mouth briefly from his. "Unbutton me," she demanded.

His fingers expertly unfastened the tiny pearl buttons down the front of her bodice. He did not accomplish his task too slowly, nor did he rush. By now he knew exactly what she wanted, how she liked it.

"Touch me," she whispered.

Johnny laid the pale blue fabric open and raked his hand across her flesh. His fingers were gentle, teasing, hot, as he explored her breasts lovingly. A low-burning fire flamed inside Vanessa.

He took his mouth from hers to kiss her there, his lips on her chest and then on the swell of her breasts. When he took a nipple deep into his mouth, she held his head tightly against her, wanting more. Sparks shot through her body, the fire grew quickly from her mouth to her breasts to the throbbing insistence between her legs.

Johnny laid her gently on her back and hovered above her, lavishing his attention first on one breast and then on the other. Sucking and nibbling and laving his tongue across her sensitive flesh until she could no longer think straight. She lifted her hips to press herself against the hard ridge of Johnny's manhood. His trousers and her gown came between them, and still the touch excited her beyond words. He raked the length slowly along her, moaning deep in his throat.

"Stop," she commanded in a hoarse whisper. He did. They had all afternoon, and she had no intention of being satisfied so quickly.

She rolled Johnny onto his back and unfastened his trousers as deftly as he'd handled her pearl buttons. The cool breeze blew over her exposed breasts and ruffled Johnny's fine curls as she touched his aroused manhood, closing her fingers around it, stroking until he closed his eyes and groaned. He was a magnificent figure of a man, so large she didn't know how she would ever take him into her body. She would, though. One day.

She climbed on top of him, covering his long body with hers, stroking as she kissed him. "I love the way you feel," she whispered into his mouth, flicking her tongue over his lower lip. She slithered down slowly and tasted his small, flat nipples, much as he had tasted hers. She kissed a trail down his slightly hairy chest, using her tongue, taking her time.

Vanessa knew she could not afford to lose her virginity to a servant, but she and Johnny knew how to take care of each other. She teased him until he was panting, and then she pleasured him with her mouth. Johnny, this beautiful man, was hers, completely and totally. He would do anything for her, would kill for her, die for her. That knowledge excited her as much as the quick response of his body as he climaxed.

She rolled onto her back and Johnny came with her, languidly renewing his attention on her breasts.

"Touch me," she whispered.

Johnny always knew what she wanted, what she demanded of him. He lifted her skirt and teased the inside of her thighs with his fingers while he suckled at her breasts. When his fingers traveled higher to stroke her throbbing center she arched her back and moaned aloud.

There was nothing in her world but sensation. Fabulous, building, heated stimulation. Her body rocked slightly, her breath came heavy. "Johnny," she whispered.

He slithered down her body, and his head disappeared beneath her raised skirt. She let her legs fall open. Her lover kissed her intimately, softly once. Twice. Then he began an attack on her that matched his earlier onslaught at her breasts. He kissed, laved, and sucked, and he thrust his tongue inside her. She cried out softly when he slipped a finger inside her while he pressed his tongue against a most sensitive spot.

"Harder," she whispered, spreading her legs as wide apart as possible and reaching down to clutch his head. "More." Her entire body sang and flamed. She knew nothing, nothing in the world but the feel of Johnny's hands and mouth. He heightened the efforts with his tongue, and slipped yet another finger inside her.

She found release quickly, deeply, and completely, crying out softly and grasping Johnny's head tight against her.

And then she collapsed, satisfied, against the blanket.

Johnny crawled up to lie beside her, resting his beautiful head close to hers. "I love you," he whispered.

Oh, she did wish he wouldn't ruin the moment with such sentimental declarations! "I know," she said, her eyes closed as she savored the deep and complete gratification that made her feel boneless.

He kissed the side of her neck with leisurely passion.

"I want to love you completely," he whispered. "I want to come inside you."

This was a conversation she usually dreaded. She had to go to her marriage bed a virgin. It was expected, even required of someone in her position. There had been a time when what they had was enough for Johnny, but lately he'd begun to voice his desire for more. He wanted everything, and to be honest so did she.

"Soon," she said.

Johnny lifted his head to look down at her. "Soon?"

She smiled widely and rested a hand at his neck. "I've decided who I'll marry."

Johnny frowned. "Not Henry Langford," he muttered. "That ass."

"No, not Henry. Declan Harper," she said sweetly.

"Has he asked?"

"No, but he will," she said confidently. "He came to call on me today," she said. "He brought me candy, can you believe it? I returned the gift, of course, and offered a few more appropriate suggestions."

Her fingers danced languidly and possessively over Johnny's neck and shoulders, a puff of wind ruffling her mussed skirt and his black curls.

"Why him?" he asked.

She placed both hands on his head, bracketing him, holding him. Her fingers threaded through his black curls. "He's rich. He's handsome. He owns the old Ashton place. If I marry him, I won't have to move far away."

She rolled Johnny onto his back and smiled down at him. "And best of all, he doesn't love me. He wants to marry me, but I see no annoying devotion in his eyes. I have a feeling his attentions are spawned by financial considerations more than anything else, and that suits me just fine. Once the wedding night is done, you and I can be lovers always." She smiled wider at the thought.

"I don't think Harper will be demanding. He doesn't seem the passionate type. He's rather cold, to be honest." She remembered the way he'd looked at her as he'd offered that obviously cheap tin of candy. "We'll marry, and soon after he'll put me aside to concentrate all his energies on his plantation and his other business concerns. That means you and I will have all the time together we want. Long afternoons, entire nights..."

Johnny didn't look happy about the plan, but he wasn't visibly angry, either, as he sometimes was when she spoke of a proper marriage for herself. "You'll have my babies," he whispered.

"I know, and they'll be beautiful babies."

He took her head in his large hands and looked deep into her eyes. She saw such pain in his face, such undying love. "Marry me, Vanessa."

"You know I can't...."

"We could leave this place, go out west and make our own home. I don't want to share you."

"Johnny, don't be silly." She tried not to snap, but this was a tiresome conversation. "You have no money, and I couldn't bear to be poor. If I marry Declan Harper, we can have everything but the same last name."

"And I will get to share you," he mumbled.

"Just a little," she whispered.

He smiled at her, deepening his adorable dimples. "Maybe one day, before you make the mistake of marrying another man, we'll get caught, and then you'll be forced to marry me."

She smiled sweetly. "You're such a romantic." In truth, she knew exactly what she'd do if they were ever caught in a compromising position. She'd thought of it many times, usually in her bed late at night when she could not sleep.

If she and Johnny were ever caught in a compromising position, she'd yell rape so loud and long everyone in the county would hear. Johnny would probably hang, and she would truly hate to see that happen. He was much too pretty to end up at the end of a rope. But if that was the price she had to pay for her reputation, there was nothing to be done for it.

"Let's eat," she said, reaching past him for the picnic basket. "And then we can make love again." She caught his eye. "Slower this time," she whispered. "Daddy won't be home until late. We have all afternoon."

Johnny smiled and kissed her long and deep. "Vanessa, my love," he whispered. "You're going to be the death of me."

She certainly hoped not, but one could never tell.

* * *

The talk about town was all about the drought and the upcoming Founders' Day Celebration. Declan had no patience for either subject.

He should've gone immediately to Matilda's house Monday afternoon, once Vanessa had made it clear she didn't like sweets and provided that long and costly wish list. He should've already sought a new aphrodisiac. But he found himself wondering... did he really want to be married to that woman? Vanessa was lovely, but beneath the fine exterior there was an annoying simplicity. No passion. No fire. Just cool beauty.

Instead of going to Matilda's, he'd spent the week shouting and demanding, pushing the workers to finish the house repairs, going over his well-laid plans again and again... and occasionally opening the small tin to study its contents and try to see the magic that had to be in the amber candy. He'd never forget that kiss. He must also never forget that it hadn't been real.

But here it was Friday, Matilda's day to visit the general store, and he found himself perusing second-rate cigars and waiting. Waiting.

"Good morning, Mr. Fox."

His gut tightened. He'd recognize that voice anywhere.

"Matilda!" Fox's greeting was overly friendly. "What do you have for me today?"

"Caramels, sugared pecans, pralines, cinnamon bread, white bread, and lavender soap," she said. "I meant to make more toffee," she said, an apology in her voice, "but I simply ran out of time."

Was she never still? She worked harder than she had to—constantly, from what he'd seen. Why did she never rest?

It was too easy to compare Matilda and Vanessa. Did Vanessa ever do anything productive? He doubted the girl was capable of doing more than looking beautiful and deciding what vegetable to serve with the roast for supper. Matilda had a face that told the whole world what she felt. With her eyes and the wrinkle of her nose and the workings of her mouth, he always knew what she was thinking. Vanessa, on the other hand, always looked the same. Her smiles were not exuberant, she didn't frown or worry, and he never knew what was on her mind. Perhaps nothing. Nothing at all.

His insides were twisted, his mind befuddled. He needed Vanessa to make his plans come together, but he wanted Matilda in his life; in his bed. He'd never wanted anything for himself, he'd never selfishly craved a pleasure, other than his plans of revenge. But he craved Matilda night and day, he dreamed about her, she came to his mind at the oddest times, and the warm thoughts were unlike anything he'd ever known. How could he walk away from Matilda and what he felt? How could he dismiss Vanessa and give up the plans he'd worked so long and hard for?

And then the perfect solution came to him. He didn't have to give up anything; he would have them both.

"Hello, Miss Candy," he said, startling Matilda as he stepped around the shelf and into her line of vision.

"Mr. Harper," she said, her eyes wide. "How nice to see you again."

Yes, he would have them both. It didn't matter that the circumstances would be unconventional. He wanted Matilda, and he knew he could make her happy. He would make her happy.

He smiled, satisfied with the perfectly reasonable solution that had come to him. Vanessa would be his wife, but Matilda would be his lover. Come hell or high water.

* * *

Matilda was confused. Vanessa hadn't even taken the second concoction, thanks to an aversion to sweets, and Declan didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, he seemed to be in great spirits this morning.

"So, we'll have to try again," he said in a lowered voice as they walked down the sidewalk. "Sunday evening, perhaps?"