The Elusive Flame (36 page)

“Cerynise?” Beau called from upstairs some moments later.

“Coming,” she answered happily, and blew a kiss to the chef as she pushed through the swinging door. The storm was now upon them, but she hardly noticed as she hurried into the hallway. Beau was waiting for her at the landing above the stairs, and when she came into view, he held out a hand to hasten her flight. The windows behind him displayed roiling black clouds, and now and then, streaks of lightning tore across the sky, ending in great, bellowing peals of thunder. The wind was equally as fierce, but even with her fear of such turbulence, Cerynise could think of nothing but being in her husband’s arms.

She was breathless by the time she arrived, but the radiance in her eyes evidenced the precise cause. Taking her by the hand, Beau whisked her into the master bedroom of his home and then nudged the door closed behind him. He reached around to lock it and, leaning back against the sturdy plank, pulled her within his embrace and kissed her with all the passion he had been saving up for her alone. His fingers freed her hair, and then he was lifting her up in his arms and carrying her to his bed. He stood her to her feet beside it, and immediately they were seized by a frenzied haste to undress one another. Soon they faced each other in all their naked glory. Cerynise’s hands moved down the hard length of her husband’s body in admiration while he stroked her soft breasts and covered her with greedy kisses. In the next moment they were wrapped in each other’s arms and tumbling to the mattress. This time, there was no lengthy, tantalizing prelude, for
Beau had endured an agonizing abstinence and wanted nothing to hinder their union. His wife was soft and willing, and he was hard and ready. There was enough kissing, tasting and handling to elicit sharp gasps of pleasure from each as they boldly searched out familiar territory. Then Beau was loving her in a most physical way and snatching her breath with his fierce ardor. In the midst of their intimacy everything came flooding back to him in a newly awakening reality, her panting breath in his ear, her nails digging into his back, her silken limbs entwining his hips…it was just as he had thought he had dreamed it.

Though the storm continued to rage outside, they lay in each other’s arms, kissing, touching and whispering. Beau finally questioned her about what he now suspected to be true, and Cerynise confirmed that they were no illusions he had had, for she had actually sat beside his bed that night luxuriating in her new wifely state. He also told her of the many times he had tried to question her about it, but she had refused to accept his invitations. Cerynise was rather appalled at her countless blunders. If not for her mistakes, they could have been enjoying the intimacy of marriage months ago.

She snuggled against her husband’s side and idly caressed his chest. “Do you hate me for what I almost did to us?”

“Hate you?” Beau was incredulous. “Good heavens, woman, can’t you understand by now how much I love you?”

Bracing up on his chest, Cerynise searched his handsome face. “It’s not just your rutting instincts?”

His hand caressed her naked back. “If it were, my dear, I would have been able to find appeasement with any woman, but I wanted no one but you.…You’ve held my mind ensnared from that moment I put you into my bed and brought you close to my heart.”

“The day we were married, you mean.”

“No, the night I carried you aboard my ship.”

“So long ago?”

“Aye.”

Cerynise traced a finger along the hard ridges of his muscular chest. “You must know I’ve been in love with you ever since I was a child.”

His dark eyebrows lifted in a small shrug. “I had always thought that, but you led me to believe otherwise when you wouldn’t have anything to do with me.”

“I was afraid you’d hate me if I got with child. You’d have felt obligated to do the gentlemanly thing.…”

“So you were willing to let our child be born a bastard rather than tell me that you had gotten pregnant? Madam, you must think me a cad to have gone to such lengths to hide that fact from me.”

“How could I possibly think you a cad when I’m sure the sun rises and sets just for you?”

Without another word, Beau turned with her, pressing her flat upon the bed as he rose up on an elbow beside her. He gently caressed her breasts, noticing again how much firmer they had become since her pregnancy. His hand moved downward to examine the gentle roundness of her small belly, affirming once more that it was true, that she was going to bear him a child. He needed no further proof, but the sudden hard knot that formed beneath his palm made them both laugh. He slipped farther down into the bed and pressed the side of his face close against her stomach to listen.

“He’s kicking me.” Cerynise giggled and moved her husband’s hand over the spot. “Do you feel him?”

“Aye, I do,” he replied, and chuckled as he pressed his lips to the place. “Papa’s first kiss.”

One kiss led to another and soon his tongue and mouth were tracing upward over his wife’s body until they blended with hers in an erotic exchange that left them both heady with desire. Quickening fires were lit beneath provocative caresses and titillating kisses until Beau rolled, pulling her on top of him. Cerynise caught her breath at the sensations aroused within her as he settled her over the hardened shaft and directed her hips in a long, languid
caress of his loins. His mouth greedily claimed a soft peak, and the fires of passion leapt higher still, sweeping away her restraints. Slipping her forearms beneath her heavy tresses, she lifted the tawny length above her head, capturing his gaze. Her lips curved in a sensual smile as she looked into his lusting eyes and moved her hips in a slow, undulating motion, much like a dancer before an Arabian prince. The hotly pulsing flame within her quickened her blood until her movements became more concentrated and increasingly forceful, igniting their fervor. His hands seized her breasts as he rose up beneath her, and soon their passions were soaring out of control, driving them onward until their harsh gasps were finally muted and became soft, blissful sighs of contentment.

Beau was certain he had never experienced the like of such fulfillment. He also knew he wouldn’t have traded all the freedom in the world for what he now held within his arms, his wife, his mate for life. She had been delightfully creative in her innocence, and he could only imagine, with a little more instruction, that she’d entangle his mind so thoroughly that he’d be willing to yield her anything for a few moments in her embrace.

“How would you like to accompany me on another voyage after our baby is born?”

Cerynise didn’t even have to think about his question. “Oh, yes! That would be absolutely heavenly…that is, as long as I don’t get seasick again.”

His finger sketched a pale pink nipple. “I had thought you were pretty much over that until your last bout.”

Cerynise smiled up at him. “I don’t think that particular sickness was caused by the motion of the sea, my love. By that time, I had already begun to suspect that I was with child after missing my monthly.”

“Did you always come at a regular time?”

Cerynise was somewhat amazed that he was so knowledgeable about women. “Yes, but how…”

Beau chuckled at her naiveté. “You’d be amazed what boys talk about while they’re growing up, my love. But
then, I also had a sister a couple or so years younger. As much as it appalled our mother, Suzanne would fly into a rage whenever I’d tease her about hiding out in her room. She let me know in no uncertain terms that she was suffering a woman’s curse and threatened to pray it down on me, too. I never dreamed her threats would have much effect, but I suppose a husband must endure monthly self-restraints when his wife isn’t pregnant.” He feigned a thoughtful frown as he measured her small belly. “We’ll have to become a little more creative when you grow too round to mount, madam.”

Happy laughter spilled from her lips. “With your propensities, my lecherous husband, I don’t think I’ll have too much time between the birth of one and the conceiving of another.”

“Definitely a possibility, madam, but then, I can afford as many as our love may bear.”

“I’ll likely be having more than a fair share of them while you’re away sailing the seas.”

“One more voyage, madam, and then Mr. Oaks will captain the
Audacious,
” he promised. “I have found something I love far more than sailing to distant climes. I want to be wherever you are.”

Lifting her gaze again to his, she searched his face. “But what will you do if you give up sailing?”

Beau chuckled. “Stay at home and make love to you.”

Cerynise caressed the hard, muscular ridges of his chest once again. “And when you’re not doing that?”

“My uncle would like me to help him out at his shipping company. His two sons haven’t shown much interest in doing so as yet. The oldest one definitely prefers managing their plantation. Uncle Jeff said he’d give me a full partnership if I wanted it. But then, of course, my own father would like me to help him run the plantation.”

“You won’t miss the sea?”

“Not with you beside me.”

She nestled close against his long body and murmured
drowsily, “Then I will endeavor to make your existence on land as interesting as possible, sir.”

“And I will attempt to do the same for you, madam,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her brow.

It wasn’t long before Beau heard the soft, steady breathing of his young wife and realized she had fallen asleep in his arms. With great care, he drew the sheet up over them and closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift off in sweet, relaxing slumber, the best he had had in some time.

A soft rap of knuckles against the door tore Beau from dreams that were very much like those he had savored only a pair of hours ago. Sliding ever so cautiously from his wife’s side, he snatched on his trousers, padded barefoot across the rug to the door, and opened it a crack. Philippe was standing at the threshold looking very apologetic.

“Excusez-moi, Capitaine,
but your father is here. I asked him to wait for you in your study.”

Beau nodded sleepily. “Tell him I’ll be right down. Can you make us some coffee?”

“Oui, Capitaine.”

Closing the portal, Beau stumbled into the dressing room, splashed cold water onto his face and then brushed his teeth. Garbed just as he was, he went downstairs.

If not for a definite graying at his temples which contrasted handsomely with his black hair, Brandon Birmingham could have passed for a man twenty years his junior. His sun-bronzed face seemed amazingly free of wrinkles, with only a slight deepening of crow’s-feet at the corners of his black-lashed, green eyes. His tall, broad-shouldered frame was still taut and muscular, evidence of an active, hardworking man.

Brandon had been staring out of the window at the churning sky, mulling over what he needed to say to his son. After Professor Kendall’s visit, he had done a lot of thinking back on his own life, especially that moment when he had been threatened with harsh consequences if
he refused to do the right thing by the pregnant girl whose virginity he had taken while under the mistaken belief that she was a harlot. The intimidation had served to arouse his ire and spite, which he had later taken out on Heather soon after they were married. He recognized the fact that his son had inherited not only his looks and his larger frame but his temperament as well. Because of that, he knew that force was not a judicious way to handle a delicate situation with his offspring.

“Afternoon, Pa,” Beau mumbled, smothering a yawn as he passed through the open door of his study.

Brandon’s eyebrows lifted in sharp surprise as he faced his son and saw that he was only half dressed. “’Tis a poor late hour in the day for you to be rising from bed, son. Are you ill?”

“No.” Beau shook his head. “Just trying to catch up on a little sleep. I didn’t go to bed till dawn.”

Though he wasn’t necessarily proud of the fact, Brandon also knew his son had followed too closely in his footsteps to imagine that he was a teetotaler in regard to spirits and women. It seemed practical to assume that his firstborn had been too busy indulging those propensities during the past evening to get any sleep.

Philippe entered with a silver tray bearing the coffee service and, after pouring each man a cup, took his leave.

Brandon downed his in a hurry, and then cleared his throat, not knowing exactly where to begin. He settled on a more direct approach. “Professor Kendall came to see me today.”

“Oh?” Beau’s brows gathered in some bemusement. “What did he want with you?”

“To talk, mainly about you. When you came out to deliver Cerynise’s painting, you never mentioned the fact that you had married the girl. Why?”

Beau swallowed another sip of the hot brew before he shrugged his naked shoulders. “I didn’t want Mama to get her hopes up when an annulment was in the offing.”

Brandon had had the task of explaining to his wife instead
, at least as much as he had been told from Sterling’s point of view. So far as Heather was concerned, there was only one problem with Beau: He spent too much time away from Charleston. Otherwise, he couldn’t possibly do any wrong, at least not in her eyes. She had been certain that he would do the right thing by Cerynise without interference, but Sterling had all but insisted that Brandon talk to his son, since no gentleman would even dare consider an annulment after taking a wife to bed. “Your mother always thought well of Cerynise. In fact, she’d like it very much if you kept the girl as your wife.”

“You mean you discussed everything with her?” Beau queried in some amazement. He knew well enough what conclusions his mother probably came to after the good professor went and babbled about the intended separation.

Despite the tenseness he felt over the situation, Brandon managed a chuckle. “I’m sorry if that distresses you, Beau, but you should know by now that there is very little your mother and I don’t discuss together.”

Beau had long known his parents were very close. Throughout the years they had shared a love so profound that he had come to believe that he would never discover such devotion for himself, but since Cerynise had reentered his life, he was of a different mind entirely. He was also aware that his parents were in a habit of conferring on matters pertaining to their family, but in this situation, it just seemed that his father should have consulted him before causing his mother to fret.