Moonlight Lover (20 page)

Riley laughed as he sipped his drink. "It's what always put men off about Rachel."

"No," Sin-Jin said easily as he watched her face. "I don't believe it's her intelligence that's at fault."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, and pray tell, what is?"

"The fact that you try to use your intelligence as a weapon to beat them over the head with." He observed her as he toyed with his glass. The wine only reminded him of the way her lips had tasted. Sweet. "Not every man is the enemy."

"No," she agreed. Her gaze didn't drop. "Only some."

It was an impasse. For now. He moved the glass aside. "It's time I was getting back."

She was relieved. The longer she remained in his company, the more aware she was of her attraction to him. Having Riley close by made no difference. "Leaving so soon?"

He had to laugh at the eagerness in her voice. "Yes, I fear I must tear myself away." Then, to her surprise, he took her hand. "Walk with me a moment, Rachel."

Riley very conveniently looked the other way as he relit his pipe and stretched his boots out before him toward the hearth. "Good night, Sin-Jin. And many thanks to you again."

"Don't mention it," Sin-Jin brushed off. Her hand still trapped within his, he led Rachel to the front door.

The moon was just beginning to rise. There were still a few streaks of purple clinging to the sky. He'd have a clear night of it on his way home, he thought absently, then turned to the woman at his side.

The way he looked at her made her feel as if she was being stripped, layer by layer. "You are far too familiar to my liking, sir," she chided.

She had fisted her hand so that her fingers were out of his reach. But he noted that she had kept her hand in his.

Chapter Twenty

"Well, what is it?" she asked impatiently, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "I've work to tend to. I can't just be standing around twiddling my thumbs like the likes of you."

She hoped that her tone would hide the fact that she suddenly felt unsure of herself out here alone with him like this. She felt if she were on the receiving end of that kite of Benjamin Franklin's, waiting for the lightning to find her. Anticipation shimmered through her veins like the reflection of a candle in a pool of water.

The sling made him awkward. He wanted the use of both his hands. He settled for one. Sin-Jin tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and felt her stiffen slightly. When would she trust him?

"There was a time that," he began, "when a knight saved a damsel in distress, he was allowed to claim a reward."

Was he going to spoil it after all? Her eyes skimmed over his clothing, made dirty with soot. "You're hardly a knight in shining armor."

He accepted that. "Nonetheless, you were a damsel in distress."

She raised her chin defensively. It was a gesture he was
becoming all too familiar with.

"I could have managed." The lie rang hollow in her ears. "All right, perhaps not." She hated admitting to a
weakness of any kind. "But he wouldn't have touched me
if I had had a musket in my hand."

Moonlight adorned her face until he ached to kiss her again. "I did," he reminded her softly.

She felt uneasy and struggled to hide it. "You would remember that."

"No." Gently, he ran his fingers along her cheek. Despite herself, Rachel leaned ever so slightly into his touch. "My meaning is that if I could have, so could he. That kind is dangerous when cornered."

As he spoke, his fingers continued to stroke her cheek,
to make love to her skin. He saw her eyes darkening, but not with anger this time. With another emotion that was far more potent.

"And the point of this discussion being?" She wished her stomach didn't feel as if the chicken she had hardly
eaten was still alive and fluttering its wings inside of her.
Why couldn't he keep his hand at his side? Why was he scrambling her thoughts until they were all upended, like type haphazardly tossed in the air?

"That I wish to claim a reward."

She watched his eyes and they trapped her. "And that would be?"

"A kiss."

Her breath lodged in her throat and she had to force
the words out passed it. "Seems to me that you take those
readily enough without asking for permission."

Why didn't he just do it and be done with it? She didn't want to add to the insult by agreeing. But if he didn't kiss her soon, she was going to embarrass herself and kiss him
first. It was almost as if she had no will of her own, not where he was concerned.

"Tonight," he trailed his knuckle along her cheekbone, "I'd rather not be slapped. I'd rather you gave it willingly and admitted to the same."

She had to stop herself from sighing. "Meaning?"

The smile went beneath the layers of her shield, beneath the layers of her skin, down to the very heart of her. "I think my meaning is clear enough."

Yes, it was. And he was right. "You are no gentleman."

"No." His arm went around her, holding her to him.
"Being near you strips me of that." God, he never wanted
anyone as much as he wanted her. "Being near you
makes me wish I had the manners of stable boy and could seize what I wanted." He saw excitement flash in her eyes
before she could bank it down, replacing it with a haughty look. "I'll speak plain. I want you, Rachel O'Roarke. I want to feel you beneath me. I want to wake up in the morning and have the smell of you fill my senses."

She could feel her cheeks burning, as well as her body.
"How dare you—" she cried hoarsely.

"I dare," he answered patiently, "because somewhere within you exists the same wish, the same desire." He'd seen it in her eyes, even now, had tasted it in her kiss. They were kindred souls, he and Rachel. And someday, she would admit it. "But for now, I wish only my kiss."

She was almost trembling as she rose on her toes and pecked his cheek so lightly that she hardly touched him at all. She backed away.

"There." Rachel swallowed nervously. "Now be off with you."

He caught her wrist before she took another step away.
"Is that a proper reward for saving everything dear to you? The printing press, the shop—"

She could feel her heart as it vibrated against her ribs. "You didn't do it alone and I could no more kiss the whole town than I could sprout wings and fly."

Rachel tried to pull free, but couldn't. It wasn't his hold on her wrist that was keeping her rooted. It was the look in his eyes.

"No, but the townspeople didn't save you from Winthrop."

It was true and they both knew it. She sighed and was embarrassed that the sound was shaky. "All right then, but be quick about it."

She knew he wouldn't be. She was hoping he wouldn't
be.

Rachel turned her mouth up to his and closed her eyes, summoning an impatient expression to her face. She was
prepared to endure it without giving him the satisfaction of reacting.

But he didn't play fair. That too she had known ahead of time.

Rather than just kiss her, Sin-Jin grazed a corner of her
mouth with his lips. First one side, then the other, tempting her, making something within her yearn for things she had no knowledge of. Making her want to travel down paths she had never journeyed on before.

As her heart fluttered in her breast, Rachel felt his mouth move slowly along her chin, tracing her jawline. Her own mouth grew slack with the wonder of it. Pulses jumped and throbbed all through her body until she felt like one of those drums that the Indians used to send messages to one another.

The message that was being sent now was one she couldn't put into words.

Why didn't he just kiss her and put an end to it
? Why did he have to play her, strum her as if she were a harpsichord? She tried desperately not to think of the fact that she hungered for his mouth. For more. Infinitely more.

Dragging air into her lungs, she struggled to speak. "Have you lost your way, man?" The words were hardly above a whisper as her limbs melted. She clung to his arms for support, trying not to hurt his wound. Trying desperately not to fall.

"Perhaps," Sin-Jin murmured against her mouth, his own heart pounding against his chest, "but I think I'm finding it all right now." The words skimmed along her skin, heating it.

"Must I show you how to do everything?"

There was a curse that he didn't quite hear and suddenly, Rachel wove her fingers through his hair as she stood on her toes once more, her mouth covering his, her lips parting hungrily.

It was a mistake.

She knew it as soon as she did it. Yet if it was a mistake,
it was a glorious one. For a moment, for the briefest passage of time, she let herself be cast adrift in the
wonder of what was happening. Her head began to spin as
her senses left her completely at the mercy of this new sensation that had laid claim to her, body and soul.

Rachel felt and gloried in the startling outline of his body as his hand curved against her back and pressed her to him. Hard. He was so hard, so solid. An entire wall of muscle and sinew.

And she ached for him.

She was aware that the evening air was cold and she should be chilled. But if she was shivering, it was from a different cause. She was trembling, anticipating, standing at the brink of something startling that she didn't comprehend.

Something that she wanted more than she wanted to breathe.

Rachel didn't understand it. All she knew that this was wonderful. The undercurrent of passion that had been awakened within her was a mystery she had no idea how to handle. The only thing she knew was that she wanted to savor it for as long as it lasted. And longer than that.

But she was afraid. Where would this lead? And what would there be left of her after it was all over with, after he left her?

She didn't care. Later she'd think about it, the consequences, the regrets. Now all she wanted to do was hope that this sensation she felt didn't end.

She made his head swim. Each time he kissed her, it was so much worse than the last.

And so much better.

Holding her soft body to his, kissing her like this, sealed his fate and told him that he would have no rest until she was his, completely his in every sense of the word. He wanted her body and her soul. And he wanted her to give it willingly.

Easier, he knew, wished for than done. But therein lay the exhilaration. And the challenge.

Knees almost gone, a bare shred of resolve left to nudge her conscience, Rachel found the strength from somewhere to push him away, though she really didn't want to. This was entirely different than when that creature had pressed against her, pawing her, slobbering over her. Then there had been nothing but horror. Now, there was a hunger, a hunger that she feared more than death and desired more than life.

It was passed the time for bantering words. She wanted
honesty. "What is it that you do to me?" she demanded, breathless and shaken.

Sin-Jin laughed softly, touched by her question, by the wide-eyed innocence and confusion he saw in her eyes. Mixed as it was with desire, it was almost too potent for him to resist.

Gently, trying to catch his breath, he leaned his forehead against hers. "I don't know, but be assured that you are not alone in it."

Fire entered her eyes as she pulled her head back. She might have known. To think she had been having wanton thoughts about him. It served her right for being such a fool. "Oh, it's bragging of other women now, are you?"

Spitfire was too tame a name for her, he thought. She was always letting her temper lead her to the wrong conclusion.

"No, not bragging. I'm only telling you that I am in this trap with you myself. You have undone me
completely, Rachel and my mind has not been free of you
from the first moment I saw you."

"Pretty words," she sniffed and she refused to be taken in by them, no matter how much she secretly liked hearing them said to her.

"True words. But perhaps," he looked at her and felt his heart constrict from wanting her, "you're not ready for the truth yet. Good night, Rachel."

A smile blossomed almost wickedly on Sin-Jin's lips. He loomed over her, he couldn't resist one last parry aimed at her temper.

"I wish you pleasant dreams." He trailed a finger down
her cheek and she jerked her head back as if he had branded her with fire.

In a way, he had.

"I know that I'll have them," Sin-Jin told her. "And they'll all be of you."

He turned and began to walk away. He heard the door slam behind him. The night vibrated with the sound.

Sin-Jin rode home, savoring the taste of her mouth for many hours to come.

Chapter Twenty-one

As winter waned and retracted the last of its long, cold claws, allowing spring to flourish, the Virginia Gazette went from a semimonthly newspaper to a weekly.

There were more people to read it now. Morgan's Creek had attracted several new families. Signs of hope and prosperity slowly began to bud, along with the tiny blades of grass that pushed their way through the earth, searching for the warmth of a new spring.

With the planting not yet begun, Sin-Jin's visits into town continued on a regular basis. He and Riley had
become fast friends and Sin-Jin always found occasion to
poke about the print shop as Riley and Rachel were putting the newspaper to bed.

Rachel was warming to him, Sin-Jin thought, as he studied her while she worked. But it was obvious to him that she felt it a matter of pride not to let her guard down too quickly. It didn't matter. He had time, he told himself. And he was a firm believer that things which evolved slowly were the best kind to savor. Nothing should be removed from the stove and served before its time.

But when he thought of the silky way her lips had felt that evening he had claimed his reward, there was an urgency which surged through his body that was not quite in agreement with his philosophy.