Promise Me (21 page)

He gave a harsh laugh. “I didn't think so, but it's the kind of man I've become.”

Sam leaned forward to inhale the scent of lilacs that surrounded Amanda. It calmed him again, anchoring him for a few moments in reality.

“I told myself I could forgive her anything, after all the horrible things I'd been through. Her deception wounded me like a saber through my heart, but I wanted to try to build a life with her. I'd made a promise to God. If I had enough time, tried hard enough, I believed I could do it. I did try, Amanda, please believe me, I tried.”

She clamped her hands on each side of his face, forcing him to look down at her, holding him captive with her gaze. “I do believe you, Sam, because I know that despite everything that has happened between us, you're an honorable man.”

Trust and confidence flashed in her eyes. A small jolt of hope surged through him.

“Eventually, I had to go on a business trip to New York. I told her I was going away and she became hysterical. She grabbed me, begged me not to leave her alone.” He shook his head sadly.

“She was having nightmares and slept with a lamp lit. She seemed convinced something horrible would happen to her, that she'd be forced to pay for her sins. I tried to reassure her. I told her that her sister Jilly would stay with her.”

Amanda nodded. “She lived with the pain and guilt of her betrayal, didn't she, Sam?”

“Yes, and God forgive me, but I wanted to escape for a few days. I craved distance from her and the daily reminder that she'd been unfaithful to me.”

Amanda stepped away from him. “I do understand, Sam. When Arthur was sick and I sat by his bedside day after day, watching him suffer and listening to his ramblings, I dreamt of walking down the stairs, out the front door, and of never, ever returning.”

Sam had never before considered how similar their lives had been. They had both endured disappointment and grief before finding each other. He wished he could repair the damage he'd done tohis relationship with Amanda. He wanted their marriage to work. But the truth was a tormenting, ugly thing. And he couldn't consider a new life until he completed his assignment for the Secret Service.

He focused on a spot on the wall over her head, avoiding meeting her eyes and fearing his confession would drive her away forever. His heart beat wildly, as the words forced their way out of his aching throat.

“When I rode back into the yard, Jilly was sitting in a rocker on the porch. She'd been crying, and I knew right away something terrible had happened. When I finally reached the top step, she stood up and slapped me hard across the face. She said Elsbeth had become terrified one night; she'd called out for me, crying and begging for my forgiveness. When Jilly went to get some laudanum to try and calm her down, Elsbeth screamed my name and tried to run down the stairs. She tripped on her nightgown and tumbled to the bottom. She died of a broken neck. At least that was the doctor's verdict. But Jilly accused me of murdering her, of wanting her dead. She told me I'd abandoned my wife when she needed me the most.” Guilt and shame settled upon him as he glanced at the floor.

“I didn't stay and take care of her, and I never could forgive her betrayal, so I feel that in some way I was responsible for Elsbeth's death.”

“No, Sam, I can't believe you wanted her to—”

“Her sister told me I would burn in hell for what I did to Elsbeth. Maybe it's her curse that's pursued me all these years.” He lifted his gaze to find Amanda staring at him. “To be honest, I believed I
was
responsible for what happened. I grabbed two saddlebags and a horse, and I rode away from my past.” He took a deep breath, trying to fill his lungs with air. The room felt hot and stuffy.

“I swore I'd wander, try to find a new life for myself. Maybe even some redemption.” He leaned forward to kiss Amanda gently on the forehead. “And I promised myself I'd never love another woman, because I was afraid I would fail her in the same way I'd failed Elsbeth.”

Amanda gave a deep sigh, and Sam was shocked to see tears coursing down her cheeks. Her small rosebud mouth trembled. She reached for him and clutched him to her in a hug.

“Oh Sam, why didn't you tell me this before? If only...” Her voice trailed off and she wiped away the tears, then straightened her shoulders.

“I'm not about to blame you for a deceitful woman's death, Samuel Calhoun. I don't care what other people believe, and I'm not going to allow you to waste time blaming yourself for a terrible accident. Despite what you think, we all create our own path in life. I don't know all the circumstances surrounding your marriage to Elsbeth, but I believe you tried to take care of her. I also suspect you did so long after you stopped loving her.”

A rush of relief washed through Sam. Amanda believed in him.

“I'm tired of the lies, the mistrust, and the anger between us. I want a marriage based on trust. I can't promise to forgive you for everything, at least not right away, but we can make a new beginning with a new pact.” She held out one hand, palm face out.

Sam touched his palm to hers, enjoying the feel of her soft skin against his. The heat of her blood warmed him.

She gave him a small smile.

“From now on, we're going to be honest with each other. We don't lie, or even pretend for that matter.” A challenge flickered in her eyes. “And we are equal partners in this arrangement.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Equal?”

Amanda's chin thrust forward and her eyes blazed. “Equal, no secrets and no lies. That's the deal, Samuel Calhoun.”

Sam dropped his hand and wrapped an arm around her waist again. “Is that so? Shouldn't a deal with such strict terms be sealed with a kiss, Amanda
Calhoun
?”

Before she could object, he leaned down and touched his lips to hers. She reacted with surprise, but a moment later she relaxed against him, raising up on her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck. He deepened the kiss, letting his tongue slip between her lips, and she moaned. He didn't need any more encouragement.

His tongue slid into the sweetness of her mouth, exploring, linking with hers in a delicate, erotic dance, then plunging deeply to savor her taste. She was honey and spice. It was a ballet of desire, and blood rushed hot through his body, culminating in a hard thickening between his legs.

He cupped her soft bottom, urged her closer to him, and he was relieved that this time she didn't pull away. Instead, she welcomed his touch, reaching out one small hand to stroke his face softly.

He lifted his lips briefly from hers, afraid she'd demand he step away. He would do so if she asked. He gazed down at her with a sensual hunger tearing him apart. The evidence of his lust pressed eagerly against her thigh; the padding of her dress and petticoats provided no protection against his rampant desire.

“I want you, Sam. I've wanted you since the first moment we met, and the devil be cursed, I can't seem to stop wanting you.”

Her words swept away all of his inhibitions. His mouth claimed hers again in a deep, searing kiss. His hands were free to explore her body, to touch, to fondle and caress. She was his to treasure, and despite his need, he had no intention of rushing this lovemaking. It had taken too long to win her back, and all the precious moments of this night belonged to them.

Taking a step away from her, he worked patiently to unfasten each of the black pearl buttons on her dress. His brow knitted into a frown.

“When are you going to discard these widow's weeds, Amanda? I want to see you in bright, beautiful colors. Wear something that will bring out the green of your eyes and do justice to this hair.” He ran his fingers through the smooth silkiness of her auburn locks, dislodging the last of the pins.

She threw her head back and gave him a mischievous smile. “I haven't been inclined to discard my dark, sad garb because it's been a good match for my mood lately.”

His fingers finished with the buttons, and he pulled the fabric of her gown apart, exposing the soft mounds of her breasts perched above the satin fabric of her corset. Her flesh was a feast for his eyes, and for a few moments he savored the view. His cock grew rigid.

Amanda laughed softly. “I have a feeling that in a very short time, my mood is going to improve dramatically.”

Sam leaned down and licked the deep valley of her cleavage, savoring the sweet taste of her skin.

“It will if I have anything to do with it, madam.” He trailed kisses up over her shoulder, across her neck, to the gentle curve of her ear. He suckled one earlobe delicately, and she shivered.

He pulled the arms of her jacket free, discarded it, and moved his hands to her waist. Giving her a gentle twist toward the bed, he impatiently unfastened the hooks of her skirt. It fell into a heap at her feet, and Amanda stepped away from the pool of dark crepe fabric. Sam felt drunk with the pleasure of seeing her undress, as if he were sipping a rich, delicious wine.

Climbing upon the bed, she waved a finger in warning. “My turn now, Sam,” she said in a husky, sultry whisper.

He stepped close enough to allow her elegant fingers to begin the painfully slow process of unfastening first his silk vest, then the small buttons of his linen shirt. When she finally separated the fabric, her lips rewarded him, moving sensuously across his skin, blazing a trail of fire down his chest, then to his belly.

She looked at him from beneath her thick, dark lashes. Her emerald eyes sparkled while her tongue perched on the edge of lips still swollen from his kiss. When she reached for the buttons of his trousers, Sam stopped her.

“By God, Amanda, if you touch me there, I'll be finished in a moment.” He lowered his head and stroked the sweet curve of her breast with his tongue. “And tonight, I want for us both to be well- satisfied.”

He briefly recalled what Father Mikelson had said about avoiding the conjugal bed in order to secure an annulment for Amanda, but the fever of desire overwhelmed his senses and drove the thought from his mind.

With a gentle push, he set her back upon the pillows, then with eager fingers unlaced her boots. Flinging them aside, he traced the outline of her small foot before reaching beneath the starched cotton of her petticoats to unroll each silk stocking. It was like unwrapping a beautiful gift, and he wanted to savor every moment.

He tongued the curve on her insole and trailed kisses from there, across her foot, nipping the inside of her ankle, then up the curve of her leg. He lifted her petticoat, cupped her bottom, and leaned forward to discover her sweet, hot core, flowing with the honeyed juices of her desire.

His tongue flickered across the small rosebud of pleasure. She whispered his name as he elicited shivers from her.

He inhaled her female musk and reveled in the taste of her. She was ready for him, he could tell, but the pleasure of the play held him rapt. He wanted to extend the minutes into hours of lovemaking, but he throbbed with a need to plunge himself deeply into her, to feel her tight, wet sheath surrounding him.

He stood and made quick work of his trousers, kicking them aside. She gave him the smile of a cat well-pleased with the bowl of cream placed before her.

“Come here,” she demanded, sitting up and letting her legs dangle over the edge of the mattress.

He obeyed, unable to imagine doing anything else. She held him prisoner, with only the chains of passion to enslave him.

When she wrapped her small, soft hand around him, fire exploded in his veins. Before he could do anything but throw back his head and encourage her with a deep, guttural sound, she took him into her mouth.

It took every ounce of self-control to keep from exploding into the pliant softness. She suckled him, and he swore he felt the floor moving in waves beneath his feet. His breathing was ragged. She stroked, fondled, and nearly drove him insane with the pleasure she offered.

Finally, he pushed her tenderly away, gazing down through a haze of desire. “Woman, you surely know how to drive a man out of his mind.”

Her green eyes sparkled up at him. She stood and slowly and deliberately removed the rest of her underclothes.

“I'm planning to make you beg for mercy before the night is over.”

She took her time unfastening her corset, and Sam groaned. He wasn't sure he'd survive.

Her corset and then her petticoat fell to her feet. Sam envisioned his beautiful goddess standing on a cloud. He'd gladly burn in hell for this night with her, and nothing, no punishment, penance or retribution, would stop him from making love to her.

She climbed upon the bed once more, spreading her legs and arranging her hair upon the pillows. Her gaze traveled the length of his body, her eyes widening at the hard length of his cock, then she gave him a slow, seductive smile.

“You going to stand there all night, Sam, or do you have something else in mind?”

Sam climbed upon the bed, positioning himself above her. “I'm just trying to collect my thoughts.”

Amanda ran her fingers up his chest lightly, a tingling path scorching him from her touch. “We've spent too much time lately thinking. Let's concentrate of what we're feeling.”