Mischief and Magnolias (22 page)

So what am I going to with myself until Remy comes home?
The thought made her stop and take notice. When had that become important? When had seeing his soft blue-gray eyes become the highlight of her day? And why bother asking herself questions she wouldn't answer?

She left the study and wandered around the nearly empty house.

A smile slowly came to her. Before Remy and his men intruded into her home and she'd struck the bargain with him, she had volunteered her time at Airlie, the plantation house turned Federal hospital. She hadn't been there in quite some time, but imagined a volunteer would never be turned away. Dr. Shaunessy might be happy to see her.

“Mama, I'm going over to Airlie.”

“That's nice, dear,” Brenna said, then went back to her quilting and her tea.

• • •

Later, after she'd returned from Airlie, where Dr. Shaughnessy, the man in charge, welcomed her back, Shaelyn rose from her chair in the study as Remy swept into the room, bringing with him a rush of fresh air, the smell of wood smoke, and the unmistakable thump-thump of his cane. “I'd like a word with you, Major.”

“Well, good evening, Shae.” Remy grinned as he doffed his coat and flung it over the back of the settee.

“I met Private Connors today.”

Remy stopped in the process of tugging his gloves from his hands and studied her. “I see.”

A fiery blush rose up her face, burning her cheeks, and she glanced away from his scrutiny, but not for long. No matter that her emotions were a jumbled mess, she couldn't lie…Remington Harte, husband or not, remained one of the most handsome men she'd ever known…and she
enjoyed
looking at him. Her gaze wandered over his clean-shaven face and came to rest on his eyes, then moved lower to his mouth, his perfectly kissable mouth. She realized she wasn't listening.

She was lost…in oh-so-many ways.

Mentally, she shook herself and paid attention.

“I hope you don't mind—” she finally heard. Her gaze dropped from his face to his hands as he finished removing his gloves, but even that was a mistake. She remembered the feel of his hands on her, touching her, caressing her, and it was all she could do to concentrate. “I thought having Private Connors perform all the heavy manual work would make your life a little easier. You've been spending more and more time on the boats and it's plain to everyone that you are exhausted.”

“That's very sweet of you, Major, but why? Why would you do this for me?” Working hard wasn't the reason for her exhaustion. Fighting off her desire for him was what exhausted her. Even now. It had been different when she'd slept downstairs, but night after night, sharing the same bed, trying not to touch him was proving to be a lot more difficult. And she failed more often than not. Indeed, she'd begun failing that very first night when she awoke to find herself in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm around her, holding her close.

“You're my wife now. You shouldn't be taking care of everyone,” he said, his voice low and sensual, just a purr really. “Just me. I also asked your mother if she'd like to give up her chores as well…I was going to hire someone, but your mother said no, she enjoyed cooking for us.”

For once, Shaelyn had nothing to say. He was killing her with his many kindnesses, not only to herself, but to her mother as well. And he made it more than impossible to retain her anger and keep her balance. In fact, it seemed most things he did, those little thoughtful acts, did more to undermine her sense of stability and poise than anything else he could have done. To her utter mortification, his plan of attack, if it was a plan, was working.

Hadn't she kissed him the other morning? Granted, he'd been sleeping, but she hadn't been able to stop herself from touching her lips to his and wishing…

“Oh, by the way, I brought you this.” Once again, he caught her drifting attention as he lifted his coat from the settee and rifled through the pocket to produce a small bottle tied with a pale yellow ribbon. As he handed the bottle to her, their fingers touched, setting off a whirlwind of physical longing that seemed to reach into her soul and steal her breath from her lungs. Her skin tingled from the inside out, as if the butterflies that usually congregated in her stomach now fluttered against every inch of skin on her body.

Shaelyn forced herself to breath then glanced at the bottle in her hand. He'd bought her perfume. And not just any perfume, but her own signature fragrance. She would know the shape of the bottle and the delicate color of the ribbon as Madame Lamoureaux's anywhere.

“I saw that you were almost out.”

She was touched, so touched tears misted her eyes and her vision blurred. “Thank you, but how could you possibly know?”

He shrugged with nonchalance, but she didn't miss the hint of a blush creeping up his face. “I have my ways, Mrs. Harte. I am nothing if not resourceful.” He grinned then, showing a full complement of pearly white teeth. “Madame Lamoureaux asked me to pass along her regards.”

It took every ounce of her strength not to rush into his arms and kiss him. Every ounce. She gave a slight nod instead and slipped the bottle into her pocket. “Thank you, Major. You've been most kind.”

“My pleasure, Shae.”

His deep voice rumbled through her, setting her already frazzled nerves on fire as she nodded one more time and nearly ran for the door. She stopped for a moment and turned to look at him, which gave her both a jolt a pleasure and a shiver of dread as she realized she was quickly losing the battle she fought with herself. “Dinner will be ready shortly,” she informed him, then beat a hasty retreat.

• • •

Something tickled her. Shaelyn snaked her arm out from beneath the blanket and scratched her nose. Her fingers touched the slightly curling hair at the back of Remy's neck.

She'd done it again. No matter how far over on the bed she was when she crawled beneath the covers, she woke up spooning Remy, her legs bent and snug against his, her breasts pressed flat against his back, her nose scrunched against the back of his neck, where his scent lingered.

Or he cuddled her, his leg thrown over hers possessively, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

It was enough to make a girl scream…or sigh with comfort and go back to sleep.

This morning, she wanted to scream.

She moved slightly, intending to pull away from him, but he laid his hand firmly on her backside, keeping her tight against him.

“Stay,” he begged.

“I…I can't.” And truthfully, she couldn't. It had nothing to do with the chores that awaited her…or that used to await her. It had to do with the tightening of her belly, with the tingle of her skin, with the heat of his body so close to hers. Desire, hot and sweet, swept along her veins, leaving her a shaking, trembling mess. She wanted him. Wanted him more than anything she had ever wanted before.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice a seductive beacon she no longer had the strength to fight. “Stay with me.”

Why not? They were married. Why should she deny herself the pleasure she knew he could bring her?

A small smile tilted the corners of her mouth as she reached around him and splayed her fingers through the soft hair on his bare chest. At the same time, she moved slightly and kissed the back of his neck where his hair curled. His skin was warm beneath her lips, even warmer beneath her hand, and the small fluttering sensation deep in her belly grew.

“Shae.” Her name fell from his lips in a husky moan, but he didn't move. He did draw in his breath as her fingertips slid over his nipple, which grew pebble-hard in an instant. Her hand moved lower, sliding over his taut stomach and lower still to smooth along his bare hip and thigh. For once, she was grateful he did not wear clothes to bed, preferring to sleep naked and unencumbered.

“Hmmmm?” she murmured as she moved closer to him, her breasts crushing against his hard back, her leg slipping over his, her nightgown bunching up between them as she peppered the back of his neck with more kisses.

“If you don't stop…” He didn't finish the statement, but his hand pressed against her backside, pulling her closer.

Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I don't want to stop, Remy. I want…I need…” She reached between his thighs, closing her hand around his fully engorged erection.

His muscles contracted and tensed as her grip around him tightened and she stroked slowly, up and down. His breath left him in a rush, his back and chest moving as he exhaled. “Then have your way with me.” His words came out in a hoarse groan. “I am yours to command.”

She felt bold and empowered by his complete surrender, as if she had a choice, something she hadn't felt in a long time. But now, now, she had a choice. She moved again, coming up on her knees to hover over him, all the while pressing kisses against his neck, his shoulders, and his face until he rolled onto his back with a groan.

Dawn had yet to break, but moonlight flooded the room. She could see the expression on his handsome features, saw the softness of his eyes before he whispered her name then cradled her face between his hands and kissed her, a deep, soul-searching kiss she felt down to the tips of her toes…and every place in between. A kiss so full of promise, it left her gasping for air, for sanity, freeing her of the last vestiges of modesty she might have had, as well as the resentment she had harbored.

He hardly let her catch her breath before he captured her mouth once more, his lips sliding over hers as his hands caressed her neck through the softness of her flannel nightdress.

“Touch me,” she whispered against his lips, not realizing Remy had already unbuttoned her nightgown until he slipped his hand beneath the fabric and cupped her breast. His thumb flicked over her nipple as his mouth continued to play over hers. If she thought she'd been lost before, she'd been mistaken. His touch drove her to madness, his kiss pushing all thought from her head except that she needed him. Wanted him.

“This has to come off,” he murmured, and slid the garment over her head, tossing it to the floor beside the bed. His lips replaced his hand, his tongue swirling around the nipple before drawing the pearl-hard peak into his mouth and suckling gently.

Shaelyn gave herself over to sensation completely. His fingertips lightly skimmed her flesh. Goose bumps pebbled her skin. The warmth of his breath on her face and neck, the pressure of his lips against hers, and the delightful heat of his tongue as it brushed hers held her spellbound.

She straddled him then, reveling in the raw power of his steely arousal between her thighs, rubbing against her moist core before she impaled herself on his thick shaft. Remy placed his hands on her hips and guided her, as his teeth grazed first one nipple then the other. Waves of pleasure shot through her. She found a rhythm and moved slowly, rocking back and forth, riding him as the coiled spring that was her release spiraled and tightened.

And Remy helped her reach that climax as he slipped a hand between them, finding that most sensitive spot within the moist folds of her flesh.

Shaelyn's eyes flew open as the coil sprung free. She was flying, soaring among the stars in the heaven, touching those glittering points of light as her body convulsed over and over. She bit her lip to keep from screaming, the sensations whisking through her intense and wonderful.

And she wanted more. Much more. She leaned down to capture his mouth with hers, tracing her tongue over his lips, and started moving on him once more, rising up on her knees then slowly sinking down, feeling him fill her.

Remy moved so quickly, she drew in her breath and let out a startled squeak. One moment she was atop him, her legs on either side of his hips, the next, she was beneath him, the steel-hard length of him still within the wet, swollen flesh of her body.

“Oh yes,” Shaelyn hissed as she pressed against him and surrendered herself to the sweet seduction of his touch.

He moved in her slowly, drawing out almost entirely before settling against her again. Shaelyn couldn't help the moan that escaped her, nor could she help moving against him, her hips rising up to meet his every slow, torturous thrust.

Why had she denied herself this? She reached her peak, her body pulsing around him once more. She couldn't help groaning, “Oh, yes, Remy!”

He smothered her voice with his mouth, drawing the words as well as her breath into him. His pace quickened as he slid into her moist, giving flesh and whispered words of encouragement, demanding she come for him one more time. The muscles in his arms bulged as he held her close and his hips settled between hers, grinding against her in the most provocative way, his movements tight and controlled until he grunted and groaned with the force of his own release. A slight chuckle escaped him as he thrust into her, the heat, the pulsing of him pushing her over the edge.

Shaelyn followed his release with her own explosive climax. One last time, she touched stars. They exploded all around her, little shards of light showering down on her as she soared into bliss, more powerful than before. Her body rocked beneath his as her legs tightened against his thighs. She couldn't speak, couldn't hold a coherent thought as she pulsed around him, every inch of her skin alive and tingling. Tears flooded her eyes and rolled down either side of her face as she pulled in a deep breath.

“My God, are you all right?” His deep, rich voice reflected his concern as he slowly withdrew from her. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head, unable to say a word. Emotions, deep and mysterious, filled her until her heart seemed full to bursting. She couldn't explain even if she had the power to speak. She settled next to him, feeling the heat of his body seep into hers, and rested her head on his shoulder as she'd done before, but this time she knew what she was doing. She wasn't asleep. She laid her hand on his chest, too, and smoothed her fingers through the soft matting of hair there.