Savage In Silk

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Savage In Silk Page 11

by Donna Comeaux Zide


  “Tomorrow, I’ll be with Clay. Possibly the next day.”

  “Now, Mariah! There’s a lovely full moon and I know a spot that’s very tranquil. I promised I wouldn’t touch you,” he reminded her. His face was filled with eager excitement and Mariah caught his enthusiasm, though she laughed softly and told him they were both crazy.

  “I’ll saddle the horses and meet you in front of the barn in ten minutes. Don’t worry,” he confided. “No one will see us—they’re all asleep.”

  Mariah shook her head, amazed at the effect he had on her. “All right,” she agreed. “I just hope I don’t regret this!” When he left the room, Mariah stood up, quietly trying to find her riding habit in the dark. Unable to locate it, she searched the bureau drawers for something comfortable. All the while, she berated herself for trusting him. Hadn’t he taken advantage of her before, when they were alone together on the trail? She still wasn’t sure of the key that kept his desire in check.

  She settled for a light cotton blouse and riding skirt and donned them over her chemise. The mid-September weather, even at night, was too humid for more formal dress. This is absolutely madness, she thought, tempted to change her mind. Yet something about the appeal of a forbidden adventure seemed too exciting to resist. In moments, she was completely dressed and had pinned the heavy masses of her hair at her nape. Silently, feeling like a sneak thief, she tiptoed down the hallway. She paused a moment on the long front gallery, still unsure and hesitant; but Jared, standing by the barn with two mounts, waved, and she pushed all caution from her mind.

  The black mare Jared had chosen for Mariah was no match for his own superb animal, and Mariah had to urge the horse to a gallop to keep up with the golden stallion’s easy pace. The midsummer night outdoors was warm but much less humid than the house, and a gentle breeze tugged at Mariah’s hair. Overhead, a nearly full moon cast a mellow, ivory glow over the grassy, gently rolling hills. Jared explained where he was leading her and they both fell silent. Mariah found the silence strangely peaceful and calm.

  “I think you’ll enjoy the creek…I go there sometimes to be alone.” Jared’s voice had broken into her thoughts and Mariah smiled, silently puzzling at the contradictory traits in his personality. He was an enigma…a loner and yet she had seen him display charming manners when he wished; he seemed to fit the rough pattern of life in the West, yet she was sure he would have been equally at home in St. Louis.

  A half-hour’s ride from the ranch, they came to a slight rise in the land. To Mariah it appeared to be covered with bushes; but as the horses topped the rise, she couldn’t suppress a soft cry of pleasure. The area was an oasis, almost hidden from sight. A miniature valley lay at the bottom of a gentle slope and even from the top Mariah could hear the soft rush of water in the creek-bed and the gentle rustle of a breeze stirring in the tall, leafy maples. Jared helped her to dismount and guided her carefully down the slope to the edge of a small deep pool formed by the creek, and spread his saddle blanket on the soft, scented grass.

  “Oh…it’s so lovely, Jared!” Mariah said, overwhelmed by the ethereal beauty of the hidden valley. The air was noticeably cooler and Jared explained that the icy stream and heavy tree cover kept it this way even on the hottest summer day. In the quiet that followed, Mariah was disconcerted to find Jared openly studying her.

  “Surely you didn’t ask me riding at this hour just to look at me, Jared. I seem to remember something about starting off on the wrong foot?” She tilted her head to one side, returning his bold appraisal with a curious gaze of her own. “I can’t quite make up my mind about you. I know so little about you.”

  Jared never discussed his background with anyone, but she seemed sincerely interested, and he felt his reluctance fall away. In the next hour, the long-buried memories of his childhood surfaced and he found himself revealing more to her than he had ever told another person. His father had returned to his native England, supposedly to inherit a title, when Jared was seven and he and his mother had never heard from him again. “My mother always chose to believe he meant to return, that something kept him away; but I knew better,” he said, with a bitterness that made Mariah’s heart ache for the wounded child still within the grown man.

  “And you never saw him again?”

  Jared’s mouth twisted at the sad memories her question raised. When his father failed to return, Jennifer Woodville Bryant was forced to support herself and her son and returned to the stage, the only work she knew. He was eleven when his mother died of pneumonia in Chicago. They had been on tour with Roger Winston’s Troupe, with his mother as the female lead in the dramas directed by Roger. “We were better off without my father…She didn’t need him to support her anyway.

  I can still hear her voice. How clear and soft it was. Everybody loved her; the audience would throw roses when she took her final bow.” Jared turned to face Mariah, his face only inches away from hers. “You remind me a little of her. Until I met you, I’d never seen another woman with such beautiful green eyes.” The admiration in his gaze was open, but suddenly his voice grew harsh. “You shouldn’t have come out here.”

  Mariah was startled by the change in his attitude. She was beginning to discover what had made Jared the way he was today and she had a burning desire to know more. “What happened then…afterward?”

  “The troupe sort of adopted me. We drifted around the country until I was about eighteen. When Roger died the actors sort of broke up and went their own ways. I ended up on a ranch down in Texas and, after California was ceded to the States, a good friend and I took off for San Francisco. You know the rest.” In many ways, Mariah thought, she and Jared were similar, although her childhood had been happy and secure. Each was alone in the world.

  “I’m sorry, Jared…I…Mariah couldn’t explain her feelings without offending his pride with what would seem like pity. Impulsively, she reached out to touch his face and ran her fingers gently along the hard lines. As her fingertips touched the corners of his mouth, it twisted again bitterly.

  “Why should you care?” Jared was uneasy with her closeness, wary of the tenderness in her caress. The last woman to show him such tenderness had been his mother and he had for so long forced himself to put aside those warm memories. “I shouldn’t have told…

  Jared’s comment was cut off by the hesitant pressure of Mariah’s lips on his mouth. Surprise rapidly changed to pleasure as the light scent of lavender surrounded him and her arms crept shyly around his neck, as though she feared he would reject her attempt to ease his pain. He had been about to suggest they return to the house, but the idea vanished. His arms gently circled the small waist and, as his mouth answered hers, he pressed her to lie back on the blanket. Her eyes had closed and the moonlight lit the fragile beauty of her features with a translucent glow.

  “My God…you’re gorgeous!” Jared whispered warm and low against the slim column of her neck. He pressed soft kisses over her throat, moving slowly to the tender, sensitive skin behind the shell-like ears. The silken black hair was as sweetly scented as the rest of her, the clean fresh fragrance so different from Lil’s heavy, cloying scent.

  Mariah trembled with delight as Jared nibbled at her ear. In no other way did she betray the battle of wills that waged within her. Everything she had been taught from childhood rebelled against the license of his hands and mouth exploring her skin and yet…God help her, she couldn’t resist the rising response she felt. Shamefully, she had provoked his advances, and now his soft, stroking caresses were sweeping her toward some mysterious gulf from which there was no return.

  As Jared placed a light kiss at her temple, he was shocked to taste the salt of tears. Frustration swept over him and he cradled her close, attempting to soothe her fears. “Mariah…open your eyes, love, and look at me.” Slowly the long, heavy lashes parted to reveal liquid green eyes gazing up at him in mute appeal. With a muffled groan, Jared buried his face in the softness of her hair. Without uttering a word, she had managed to convey her
feelings and the inhibitions that stifled her response. Jared raised his head to stare down into her eyes. “Mariah, I wouldn’t hurt you…but damn it, I can’t help wanting you!”

  Mariah wiped away a tear that trickled from the corner of her eyes. “I know…I just…Jared, I can’t explain; this is all my fault but I can’t let it continue!” As she sniffled, Jared pulled a fresh handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. Sitting up, Mariah wiped at her eyes and gazed miserably in his direction, reminding him once again of her tears when he had brought her to the ranch.

  Jared cursed into the darkness surrounding them, his frustration battling with a new awareness of her vulnerability. The women he was used to taking were experienced and independent, satisfied with a momentary fling. Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw Mariah staring forlornly down at her hands, twisted together nervously in her lap.

  “Why couldn’t you be ugly and fat, with warts,” he said, voicing a grudging, comical thought. “I know what you’re thinking, Mariah.” He paused and placed a hand atop hers to still its movement. “I’d make a lousy husband, a selfish son-of-a-bitch who’d hurt you! You don’t need a drifter like me, you need someone with roots, to give you security. Even if I was fool enough to propose such an idiotic idea, there’s no one around to marry us.” Oddly enough, though he’d never thought about marriage before, the idea of marrying Mariah had grown very appealing.

  Mariah lay back in the shadow of the overhanging, leafy branches of a tall tree. In the darkness, her face flamed in embarrassment. He obviously thought her a threat to his precious independence! “I…I certainly don’t think you have the right to dictate my life to me! I was thrown out of my home for refusing my parents’ choice and I hardly think you’re qualified to advise me whom or whom not to marry.” Her mouth trembled, and her voice shook. “You may do as you like. I’ll try not to bother your conscience.” She lay still on the blanket, eyes closed in silent martyrdom.

  Jared concealed his amusement at the bounty offered to him and, surprising himself, made a quick decision he hoped he wouldn’t regret. His mouth touched the base of her throat and one hand traced a path from her neck to the slight swell of one rounded breast. She tensed under his caress but made no protest. “Mariah…there’s a preacher about fifteen miles from here. He’ll be mad as hell to be awakened at this hour but if I explain that we have to get married, I don’t think he’d refuse.”

  When Mariah opened her eyes in stunned surprise, Jared’s mouth was only a breath from hers and his lips curved in a smiling kiss that was, at once, possessive and tender. When she smiled back with dazzling warmth, he grew more confident that he’d made the right choice. He lifted a heavy gold chain from his neck and removed his mother’s ring from it. It was all he had left of her, and he’d cherished it for years. “Until we find the reverend,” he explained, touched by the shining happiness in her expression. Mariah held her hand up and a golden shaft of moonlight caught the narrow, flower-engraved band, setting the gold aglow.

  “Jared…it’s beautiful! I’ll never take it off again,” she promised. Again he felt the glow of that radiant smile, and her arms trustingly encircled his neck, drawing him down to join her on the blanket. He was totally unprepared for the sweetness of her lips and the softness of her body pressing his. His own lips caught hers hungrily, and, just in time, he caught himself. Pulling back, he took a deep breath and cocked his head accusingly at her. “You keep that up, Mariah Randall…we’ll never make it to the preacher tonight!”

  Mariah’s answer was an enchanting half-smile as her fingers intertwined in the long hair at his neck to gently pull his head down to hers. His mouth felt the moist pink lips part of their own will to allow him access to their delicate interior. Touched and reassured by the gift of Jared’s mother’s wedding band, Mariah was determined to give him a gift in return, the only thing that truly belonged to her. Already, waves of delight were sweeping over her, reawakening the desire that had begun to blossom earlier. Her breath came faster as his hands worked at the buttons fastening her blouse, his mouth still mastering hers. The blouse came off, and his hand pushed the restraining material of the chemise aside. The cool air teased her sensitive nipples but they were warmed seconds later by Jared’s lips and seeking tongue. She gasped at the first contact but as his tongue swirled around the taut peaks and his hand fondled her other breast, she lay back, panting for breath and giving herself up to the strong, hard hands. He deftly removed her clothes and she heard the rustle of his own clothing drop beside them.

  Jared lay next to Mariah, awed by the slender beauty of her body. The silken tresses of rich midnight black released from bondage lay fanned about her, framing the creamy, satin flesh of her shoulders and neck. She shivered as his mouth kissed the soft depressions beneath her collarbone. He could barely suppress his impatience to possess her, yet he felt a reverence that he was the first to probe the untapped depths of passion that lay beneath the flawless innocence…“How beautiful!” he whispered, his voice trailing off huskily as he repeated her name over and over. Despite her eagerness, he drew her close against the warm length of his body, stroking the slender back until she relaxed against him, warm and pliant in his embrace. When she had hesitantly whispered that she wanted to please him, he leaned over her, lightly covering her body with his. His aroused length touched her and as Mariah’s eyes flew open in alarm, she involuntarily tensed her legs together, rejecting what was to come. Jared’s mouth covered hers in a demanding kiss that left her no time for fearful contemplation and she twisted impatiently under the adept explorations of his hands. His lips sought her breasts once more, nuzzling them as his tongue licked at the engorged points.

  A part of Mariah’s conscience mocked the wantonness of her abandoned response but she ignored the distant cautioning voice, moaning softly in pleasure. Her nerve ends felt exquisitely exposed, tingling with each new sensation. Her skin seemed to burn at the touch of his lips as they traced a soft pattern of kisses along the flat, satin-skinned belly, moving lower until he touched the tiny, silken curls at her thighs. Again, she tensed, but Jared gently eased her thighs apart and poised himself at the alluring portal of her innocence. His hands reached up to grasp her arms, to still her movement and he gently plunged forward, breaking the thin barrier that guarded her virginity. As willing as Mariah had been, her entire body went taut in an effort to repulse the invading force knifing between her spread thighs. It took all of Jared’s skill to restrain her wild efforts to escape the searing agony. She whimpered helplessly, tears cascading from her eyes until the pain of each stroking entry ebbed, replaced by an intensely burning heat in her loins and she instinctively responded, her hips moving to accommodate each plunge of his body.

  Deep within, the virgin muscles ensheathed Jared, pulsating in rhythmic welcome each time he entered her. Her fingers reached up to claw at the well-muscled back. She moaned more loudly, tossing her head wildly. His mouth settled on the tender flesh of a breast as her body trembled in the throes of her first encounter with ecstasy. Her feverish reaction carried Jared along and suddenly he became a volcano, his body rocked by successively more powerful tremors until, at last, it seemed to explode and erupt white-hot lava. Fulfilled, exhausted, Jared collapsed on his side, Mariah still held tightly in his arms, still bound to him by the buried length that had claimed her innocence.

  Mariah finally stirred and rolled over to smile lazily at Jared. She had never thought such pleasure and contentment could be found in the arms of…of a lover. At least until they were married, Jared would be her lover, and aware of how immoral and wanton the title was, she was startled to find that it bothered her conscience only a touch. She suddenly trusted this man, who could be so strong and yet so gentle. She pressed her lips to his chest, feeling the racing of his heartbeat beneath her mouth. She should be more concerned with urging him toward the reverend’s house but she felt so languid and at ease. Her nipples hardened at the touch of the curly mat of hair that covered his muscled chest
; she wanted only to stay here, in the secluded, leafy bower that had been the site of her honeymoon, and experience again the delights that his body had just begun to teach her.

  Jared shivered when the delicate, rosy nipples pressed against him. It would be so easy to stay here, making love to the delicious creature at his side for the rest of the night, but he remembered his promise, and the sweet, trusting way she had surrendered herself to him. He was determined to marry her now. “You keep that up, darling, we will never make it to the preacher,” he teased.

  Mariah’s lips formed a smile against his throat and softly she kissed him. With difficulty Jared stifled the rising desire that threatened to make him forget his promise and take possession of her once again. He already thought of her as his alone and he firmly intended the world to see his ring on her finger as a brand, just as she had been invisibly branded by his mastery of her innocence. He gently pulled her arms from his, amused by his own forbearance. Dipping the torn chemise into the cool creek water, he bathed away the blood that marked her lost virginity and helped her to dress. Mariah’s eyes glowed at the tenderness in his helpful hands and she docilely followed every suggestion. Hand in hand, they climbed the slope to the grazing horses. Mariah looked back once, memorizing the beauty of the spot where she had been introduced to the pleasures of love.

  Jared lifted Mariah onto his horse and jumped up behind her, unwilling to release her fragrant warmth, even for the short ride to Reverend Morton’s house. Her horse was tethered behind the gold stallion and Jared struck an easy pace to allow the black mare to keep up with Kito. Twenty minutes later, they reached the small wood-frame cottage of Reverend Elias Morton. Jared left Mariah sitting atop the stallion and rapped loudly at the front door.

  Five minutes later, Reverend Morton opened the door and cautiously peered around its edge. He held a candle aloft to discern Jared’s face in its dim light. He finally recognized Jared and inquired wearily what business had brought him here at such a late hour. Mariah heard little of the conversation but she saw the minister glance her way and frown before he nodded and moved away from the door.

 

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