"Reverend Alms," Devon interrupted." couldn't you let us in, sir? It's really rather urgent." He rested a hand on Cassie's shoulder.
"Indeed, I will not! Now put my rain barrel back and get away from my window before I call the sheriff on you!" He snapped his mouth shut with finality.
Devon cleared his throat, speaking louder. "Sir, I really think you should let us in."
"I told you, boy," the reverend shouted." get away from my house before—"
"Do you really think we should discuss your carriage house right here on the street?" Devon glanced at the other houses on the square. "What I need is a price on—"
The old man's eyes practically popped from his head. "I'm coming! I'm coming! Just keep your voice down." He slammed the window shut and disappeared with the candle.
Devon leaped to the ground, picking Cassie up to whirl her around. "You see, love, I told you he'd see us." He grinned like a small boy with a pocket full of sweetmeats.
Cassie struggled to get down. "He'll see us long enough to throw us out, but he's not going to marry us! The man's got better sense. Now put me down, you big oaf. You're making me dizzy."
Devon dropped her lightly to her feet. "He'll marry us. Tonight he'd marry King George to General Washington if I asked." He rested a hand on her shoulder, stroking her arm. "Mordecai's nonsense gossip will come of some use, for once."
Cassie lowered her lashes, a smile teasing the corners of her mouth. "So what have you got on the old goat?" She turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"Not much." He lowered his mouth to hers. "Just that the whole second story of his carriage house is loaded with English tea."
Tea!" Cassie pulled back. "He's got tea? Master George said he knew some was coming right out of here, but we couldn't figure who was peddling it!"
"From what Mordecai says, he's still having it shipped in. He's got an English ship flying under Dutch colors with a Dutch crew bringing it and who knows—" Devon closed his mouth when the reverend's door opened a crack.
"Get inside," Reverend Alm whispered." before someone sees you."
Devon wrapped an arm possessively around Cassie, guiding her to the door. "Shall we go get married?" He lifted a dark eyebrow.
She rolled her eyes. She couldn't believe she was doing this! She couldn't believe he was going to go through with it! He really did intend to marry her!
Reverend Alm led them into an elegantly wallpapered room, closing the door behind them. "So, what do you want, Marsh?" The man's face was contorted with apprehension.
"A simple request, sir. I want you to marry the young lady and me." Devon's eyes locked with the reverend's.
Cassie swallowed hard. She couldn't believe Devon was doing this! He was blackmailing a man of the cloth into marrying them!
"You want me to what?" Reverend Alm pulled his nightcap off his head and flung it to the floor. "I'll do no such thing. I'd not do it to your father!" He shook his head, grasping for words. "I can't marry you to this, this . . ." He motioned in Cassie's direction with one hand.
"Careful, sir." Devon perched himself on the arm of a wing-back chair. "This girl is about to become my wife."
Cassie couldn't help smiling. He was bold, this man of hers. She had to give him that. Patrick O'Flynn himself couldn't have put on a finer show.
Reverend Alm clutched his nightrobe closer. "This is absurd, Marsh!"
"It would be absurd to tar and feather a man in your position over something as silly as a bit of tea." Devon shrugged his massive shoulders. "But I know of several men who wouldn't think so."
"I'll not forget this." The reverend crossed the room to retrieve a worn book. "There'll be hell to pay in the morning when your father finds out about this."
"You just let me worry about my father, good reverend." Devon stood up, his dark eyes sparkling with triumph. "Ready, love?"
Cassie knocked Devon soundly on the shoulder, taking care to keep an arm around his waist. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself." She laughed into the night air. "First you force yourself into the man's house, then you blackmail him, and then you ask him if he has any brandy!"
Devon laughed with her, urging the horse beneath them to move faster. "What else was I to do? He's afraid of my father. Everyone is afraid of my father. Besides, I've done no real harm. I'm not going to inform on the old fool. It's not my business to be concerned with a few bales of tea." He took a deep breath. Cassie's fingers were brushing lightly against his stomach, sending rivulets of pleasure through his body.
"Are you afraid of your father?" Her words lingered in the breeze.
Devon shook his head. "No, but I have to admit, he can be a very intimidating man."
"Well, I shall try not to be too intimidated," she told him lightly. "Hey, what proof have we got that we're married? I haven't a ring."
"We've got this paper." Devon patted his waistcoat. "You don't need a ring." he reined in Casper, turning right onto a tree-lined drive.
"The devil I don't. Every girl's got to have a ring!"
"What kind of language is that for a Marsh's wife?" He motioned into the darkness with one hand. "This is all father's, and someday it will be ours."
Cassie squinted to see the passing land by the light of the moon. "You didn't mind my choice of words a few hours ago."
"You weren't my wife a few hours ago." Devon reined right again, skirting a bluff of trees.
"Well, I've got news for you, your lordship. I've been speaking like this since the first word popped from my mouth and I'm not about to change that for anyone, so you might as well get used to it." She prodded him with a finger for good measure.
"I'm not a lord. Father hasn't a title." Devon brought Casper to a halt just outside the barn and leaped down.
"Lord sakes!" she breathed, gazing up at the shadows of the huge barn. "He doesn't need one." She slid off the horse into his arms. "Nice place you've got here." She pressed her warm mouth to his.
"Glad you like it," Devon murmured, catching the tip of her tongue. She tasted of honey and fire. Her mouth was sweet and cool, yet he tasted the heat of kindling passion.
Cassie strained against his hard body, molding her thighs to his. Her heart raced as their mouths mingled and she felt the stirring of his manhood against her. "We best be getting inside, Devon," she whispered, reluctant to pull away.
He ran his hands down her back, resting them on her firm bottom. "In a minute." He buried his face in her thick fragrant hair, relieved that the alcohol's effect was wearing thin. He wanted to be able to remember this night forever.
"Masta Devon, that you?" a soft voice called from the darkness.
Cassie stiffened, embarrassed that someone had seen them, but Devon held tight to her. "That you, Joe?" He stared in the direction the voice had come.
"Yes, sa', it's old Joe. What are you doin' dallying around here this time of night?" A snowy-haired black man appeared from the shadows. "Lordy! You done it this time! Who you got with you there?" The old man shook his head slowly, leaning on a cane. "You know better than to bring a little missy like this 'round here." He gave a long whistle, shaking his head again.
"For your information, this is my wife." He held tightly to Cassie's waist. "Cassie, this is the old gentleman who taught me to ride. Taught me how to brush the seat of my breeches and get astride again, too."
Cassie nodded her head in the old man's direction, suddenly conscious of the clothes she wore. Old Joe was obviously a servant, yet his shirt was of a better weave than her own.
Joe clicked his teeth, leaning forward to catch Casper's reins. "In that case, Masta Devon, you really done it!" he exclaimed, leading the horse away.
"Come on, Cassie." Devon took her hand. "We'll go in through the kitchen."
She followed reluctantly. She was now sober enough to realize the extent of what they'd done. "We're going into the manor?" She gazed up at the monstrous white brick house.
Devon laughed, shaking her hand. "Come on, where's you
r adventurous spirit? No one will ever hear us." He smiled, brushing the palm of his hand across her cheek. "If you don't hurry, I'll bed you here," he teased.
"The hell you will!" Cassie gave him a shove.
A tussle ensued and she soon found herself down on the ground on her back with Devon seated astride her. "What did you say?" He tickled her ribs, making her squeal with laughter.
"Devon! Stop! Let me up! Look at us, right here in your mother's bed of Queen Anne's lace. Haven't you got any sense?" She burst into laughter again as she tried to roll from beneath him.
Devon pinned back her arms and lowered his mouth to a breast slowly.
"Don't you dare! Don't! No!" Cassie struggled against him as he pressed his wet mouth to a pert nipple, dampening the thin material. "Please Devon, please let's go in."
"I see that now the lady wishes to go inside." Devon's hot breath was on her face as he slowly released her hands and lowered his mouth to hers.
As if by their own accord, Cassie's hands went up around Devon's neck as his kiss deepened. "Let's go in," she whispered.
Devon nodded, never moving his eyes from hers as he stood and pulled her to her feet. Slowly, they walked up to the back door, arm and arm in silence.
Cassie sat on the high bed, swinging her feet nervously. It was worse than she'd imagined. Devon was very, very rich. She glanced about his childhood bedchamber, watching the candle's ominous shadow dance across the hand-painted wallpaper. The room was sparsely, yet elegantly, furnished with its huge chest of drawers and cherry side table.
Unable to keep still, she slid her bare feet to the floor, sinking into the thick woolen carpet. She brushed her fingers lightly over the delicate china washbowl as she crossed the room to gaze out the dark window. "What have I done?" she murmured to the empty room. "I don't belong here."
"Yes, you do belong here." Devon answered, slipping into the room. "You belong wherever I am now, Cassie." He closed the door quietly behind him, slipping the bolt home. "We'll have to be quiet, my sisters Clara and Alice sleep in the next room." He held up a dusty bottle of wine and two stemmed glasses. "I thought you might like a drink."
Cassie laughed uneasily. "I'd say we've both had plenty." Her green eyes pleaded silently for comfort. As much as she hated to admit it, she was suddenly afraid. Afraid of what was to come tonight. Afraid of tomorrow.
Devon placed the bottle and glasses on the side table and came up behind Cassie, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. "You smell so good." he murmured in her ear, breathing deeply.
She let out a sigh, relaxing against his hard body and covering his hands with her own. "I was thinking the same about you." Her eyes drifted shut as she inhaled his heavenly male scent. In his arms, everything felt right.
"You know"—Devon turned her slowly to face him—"I would never hurt you. I just want to love you."
Cassie's head swam with confusion as he lowered his mouth to hers. She molded her body to his, running her hands over his soft lawn shirt. "I know." she answered, tipping back her head to let him kiss her neck. "But I don't know . . ." The words tumbled from her mouth. "I'm afraid I won't please—"
"Shshsh," Devon hushed, leading her to the bed as he smoothed her hair. "We've got all night, love. Don't be afraid." His heart pounded beneath his chest as he took her mouth with his again, kissing the frown from her lips. "Have no worry, you please me greatly."
Slowly, Devon eased her back onto the bed, reaching behind to pull his shirt over his head. "Let me see you." he whispered, reaching out to help her remove her plain muslin shirt. "So beautiful." he crooned.
Cassie leaned back on the bed, her cheeks flushed with excitement at the thought of Devon staring at her bare breasts. She reached out with a hand to stroke his cheek, now slightly rough with stubble. She wasn't afraid anymore. The look on Devon's face assured her this was right. Hesitantly, with her eyes still on his, she guided his head to her breasts, arching her back when he took the hardened nipple in his mouth. Moaning, she slipped her hands into his thick hair digging into the flesh of his back with her fingernails.
"Cassie." he called, cupping her breast with his hand. "You're so beautiful. More beautiful than I imagined."
She ran her hands over his bare back, scratching, smoothing, caressing. Never had she felt such deep, resounding waves of pleasure. Her entire body ached with wanting. "Devon." she whispered as his hands slipped down to release her homespun skirt.
"Hush, love." he returned, his voice husky with desire. "Just lie back."
Relaxing, Cassie opened her eyes to watch him drop her skirt and underthings to the floor. "You too." she dared, boldly running a hand over his thigh.
He smiled, standing to remove his tight breeches. He had never thought a woman could make him this happy. By the light of the flickering candle, his eyes caressed Cassie's ivory skin. Moving to lie beside her, he ran his fingers lightly over her glistening body until her breath came in short gasps.
"Let me." Cassie swallowed hard. "Let me touch you." Sitting up, she reached to run her hands over his hard male flesh. Odd a man's body was, with its sleek curves and hard, flat muscles.
Devon rested an arm behind his head, trying to gain control of his breathing. "Easy." he instructed softly, guiding her hand.
Finally, when he could stand her glorious torture no longer, he pushed her hands aside and rolled her over. "Oh, Cassie." he groaned, burying his face in her long tangled tresses. Carefully, he eased his body over hers.
She strained against his naked hardness, moving . . . aching for something she didn't understand. A gasp escaped from her lips as he first gained entrance. A flicker of pain crossed her face.
"Cassie?" Devon stiffened, hovering above her, his body still. "Are you all right, love?" When she nodded, opening her eyes to smile up at him, he lowered his body again. "It won't hurt again." he assured her, kissing her softly.
As the sharp pain eased, Cassie began to move rhythmically, her body straining to meet his with each thrust. Deep within herself she began to feel a fire kindling, its warmth spreading until her limbs ached, her ears pounding with the sound of her own rushing blood.
Finally, Devon groaned, giving one hard thrust as he pressed his full weight against her. For a moment he lay with his face buried in her hair, and then he picked up his head to stare into wide green eyes. "Next time it will be better for you." A smile played on his lips.
"Better?" Cassie laughed, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. "That was wonderful!"
Devon began to chuckle, rolling over onto the bed beside her.
"What's so funny?" She propped herself up on an elbow, staring down at his handsomely tanned face.
"You're an easy girl to please." he teased, tugging on a long, red curl. "Give me a rest and I'll show you wonderful."
"Oh, you will, will you?' She kissed him lightly on the lips. "Thank you." she added softly.
"Thank you?" He knitted his dark eyebrows. "For what?"
"For being so good to me." She fingered the damp, curly hair on his chest, looking up mischievously. "I didn't expect it to be so good."
Devon just shook his head, grabbing her to pull her down on him. "There'll be plenty more, my love. Now let's get some sleep." He kissed her once, and again, then with one arm around her, he leaned to blow out the candle, leaving them in darkness.
Chapter Five
Cassie's eyelids, heavy with sleep, fluttered at the sound of knocking at the door. For an instant she thought she was back in her attic loft and Master George had come to wake her. But when her hand brushed across the dark matted chest her head rested on, all came back to her. "Devon . . . Devon." she whispered, shaking him. "Wake up. There's someone at the door."
"Devon! Devon, open this door immediately." a deep voice bellowed from the hall.
"Devon." Cassie gave him a hard shake, sitting up to reach for a coverlet to cover her nakedness. "Get up!" She spoke through clenched teeth. If she didn't get up, the man, whom she supposed was his fath
er, would be through the door.
Despite her words and prodding, Devon slept on, stretched across the bed like some glorious Greek God.
"Devon, open this damned door!" The man rattled the heavy doorknob, his voice reverberating through the sunlit room.
"Devon!" Cassie got up on her knees, giving him a good shove with both hands. "Get up, he's going to break down the door."
Devon moaned, raising a hand to his head, his eyes still closed. "Cassie? Hell . . . is it morning already?" Slowly, he opened one eye then the other.
"Yes, it's morning." she snapped indignantly. "And you'd best be getting up because he's about to come through the door." She raised a thumb in that direction.
"Who?" Devon squinted, running a hand over his face.
"How the devil should I know? I don't live here! But my guess is it's your father." she said, trying to keep her voice down. Her nerves were on edge. This wasn't a good way to start off her first day with his family.
"Open the door, son. I know the two of you are in there; I can hear her!" the voice thundered.
Devon lifted his head and let it fall to the bed again. "Just a minute." Muttering something under his breath, he sat up, sliding off the bed to stand naked in the middle of the room. "Where are my breeches?" He looked to Cassie in confusion.
She rolled her eyes, leaping off the bed, the coverlet still wrapped around her. "You threw them down here somewhere." Getting down on her hands and knees, she retrieved them from beneath the bed.
Running a hand through his dark hair, Devon took the breeches and pulled them on. His brain felt as if it had been pickled. Slowly, he made his way to the door. Never again, he swore to himself . . . never another drop.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the voice demanded the instant Devon slipped through the door.
"Bringing a wench into your mother's house. How dare—"
The door closed. "Father—"
"Saints in hell, Devon, you ought to know better. A man nearly twenty-eight years old and you're still drinking and carousing like a young buck . . ."
The Officer's Desire Page 5