Once a Soldier

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Once a Soldier Page 22

by Mary Jo Putney


  Wherever his mouth touched, he brought every fiber of her being to shocking life. His tongue traced her ear. Who knew that ears were so insanely sensitive? Her throat arched against his lips, utterly vulnerable. A delicate nibble along her collarbone. Her breasts, dear God, her breasts!

  She felt the powerful length of his arousal against her thigh and rubbed against it, loving his gasp and the jerk of his reaction. She did not want to be alone in this spiraling madness. As sensation drowned her rational mind, she simultaneously wanted this intimacy to progress, and to last forever.

  When his mouth resumed its downward path, she panted, “I . . . don’t know how much longer I can bear this. I may burst into flaming embers.”

  “That’s rather the point.” He laughed softly, with his warm breath stirring the lightly tangled hair at the juncture of her thighs.

  Then his wicked, sinful mouth and tongue reached her most sensitive female places and she did burst into flames. Her hips churned and her fingers dug into his shoulders until the inferno faded, leaving her limp and stunned. “Oh, my . . . ,” she breathed. “Oh, my . . . !”

  He hummed with satisfaction as he rested his head on her belly. His breath was almost as ragged as hers. “Are you still sure about wanting all of me?”

  “Oh, yes. Yes!” She had a fierce need to give him equal pleasure so this mating would be burned into his soul as intensely as it was burning into hers.

  He shifted to brace himself above her, his powerful thighs between hers. She skimmed her hands over his beautiful, broad shoulders, down his chest, and over his ribs. So much power and strength and masculinity revealed, and for these precious moments, they were all hers. “If I’m Athena, you are Hercules, a man so splendid that he was transformed into a god.”

  He laughed. “Moonlight glamorizes. Except in the case of you, where it enhances the beauty that is already there.”

  Supporting himself with one arm, he let the fingers of his other hand drift to the still pulsing folds of her most intimate places. She’d thought she was beyond sensation, but found that wasn’t true. Her hips began moving again as she yearned for a different kind of completion.

  Daring, she reached down and clasped him. He gasped and froze for an instant. Then he leaned into her, sliding forward slowly but with inexorable power. “It’s been a long time for you, hasn’t it?” he said raggedly.

  “Very.” She shivered with rich satisfaction and raised her hips, taking him deeper inside her. He was so powerful and male and right. “This was worth waiting for.”

  He began to move and she found that responding to each other’s rhythms was a new kind of profound pleasure. She absorbed his strength and need and returned it with all the passion she’d suppressed so long.

  She was so attuned to his body that she didn’t recognize the increasing urgency of her own until she experienced another shattering culmination as he groaned and poured himself into her. Her body thrashed convulsively as she broke and was remade. Never again would she be the woman she had been, nor did she want to be.

  Tension eased out of him and he rolled to his side so he wouldn’t crush her. As he gathered her against him, he murmured, “That was even more amazing than I had dreamed possible.” He kissed her forehead. “I am so very glad you’re here.”

  “So am I. And very glad I gave you a guest room with a large bed!” She loved the intimacy of this skin-to-skin touching. She loved how the dim light sculpted the planes and muscles of his beautiful male body. Most of all, she loved the intimacy and sense of rightness between them.

  Will murmured, “What are you thinking? I do hope it’s not that you’ve made a ghastly mistake.”

  “Never that!” She laid her hand on his chest, feeling the sturdy beat of his heart. “I was wondering if Delilah felt like this with her lovers, if that was why she had so many. But how could she possibly feel this way with multiple men?”

  “It’s an interesting question,” Will said thoughtfully. “There is great pleasure in the pure animal satisfaction of mating with a well-matched partner. But emotional mating adds so much more. She might have loved the physical pleasure, but never found the deeper emotional connection. Maybe she had many lovers because she was looking for more than the physical satisfaction.”

  “Perhaps. I’ll never know. But she had a restless disposition. Maybe the satisfactions she found were always fleeting.” Her brow furrowed. “I’d hate to think that was true with you. I want more, not less.”

  “As do I. You realize that now I’ll start nagging you to marry me.”

  Athena rolled to her side so her back was to him. “I overcame my qualms about becoming lovers, but marriage is another matter.”

  Will rolled over behind her so they were spooned together, his arm around her waist, his legs warming the back of hers. “Wouldn’t you like to sleep like this every night for the rest of your life?” He brushed a kiss on the side of her throat.

  She reached back to pat his bare flank. “We’d freeze in England.”

  He promptly reached down and pulled a blanket up over them both, then settled behind her again. “We’ll adapt. There’s something very fine about being cuddled together in a warm bed while wild storms rattle the windows.”

  A brittle edge sounded in her voice. “That does sound rather nice, but I’m still Lady Whore’s Daughter.”

  “Our past is part of who we are, but you’d be Lady Masterson,” he pointed out. “There might be some difficult moments, but I will not let any man insult you, and I guarantee that my closest friends and family will be entirely on your side.”

  “I’ve lived as an outcast too long to be easily persuaded that I can become part of the privileged establishment,” she whispered, her throat aching. “And such questions are moot when we may not survive the next week.”

  “There is that,” he agreed, his hand coming to rest on her breast. “But we might both survive. You’re much more likely to do so than I am, so tomorrow morning I’ll write my brother and tell him who you are and what you are to me. He will be your friend, and be an uncle to your child if you have one. You’ll never have to fear poverty again.”

  She drew a shaky breath. “It must be lovely to trust someone so much.”

  “I would trust Mac with anything. If you need to find him, he’s Sir Damian Mackenzie, his club is named Damian’s and it’s on Pall Mall. His London house is right next door. Remember that.”

  “Damian Mackenzie, Damian’s, Pall Mall,” she repeated dutifully.

  His arm tightened around her waist. “Or we could invite the priest up from the town and have him marry us in the morning so you and any possible child will have the protection of my name and fortune. A daughter would be well dowered, and a son would be the next Lord Masterson.”

  “You’re relentless, aren’t you?” she said, more amused than irritated.

  “Yes,” he admitted. “At least, when the goal is worthy. As you are, little owl.”

  The endearment almost destroyed her defenses. Deciding they needed a change in topic, she asked, “What was your wife like? Unless you can’t bear to speak of her.”

  After a lengthy silence, he said, “Lily was bright and pretty and full of life and optimism. I’ve always been dull and sober. . . .”

  “That is not how I would describe you!”

  “You didn’t know me at twenty-one,” Will said dryly. “But we were young and ripe to fall in love and we tumbled happily into marriage. I didn’t realize how delicate her health was. She knew her heart was weak, but she never told me. We were delighted to learn she was with child. But she began fading before my eyes.

  “I called in the best physician in London and he said she should never have tried to have a child, but by then, it was too late. All I could do was watch her grow weaker and weaker. She gave birth prematurely and . . . she and our son did not survive.”

  Athena rolled onto her back so she could study his face. “I’m so very sorry, Will. Life is too often cruel.”

 
She was trying to think what else she might say when he blurted out, “I should have known she wasn’t strong enough! The evidence was there, but I didn’t see it. I was a damned fool. I wanted to believe that we were too young and happy for tragedy to strike.”

  Athena took his hand, gripping it tightly. “Such optimism is part of being young. It’s not a sin.”

  “If I had been more aware, she needn’t have died,” he said flatly.

  Taking a guess, Athena asked, “Is Lily why you feel you need redemption?”

  After a long silence, he said, “She was my responsibility, and I failed her.”

  The dark side of being a leader was bearing the guilt of everything that went wrong. Choosing her words with care, Athena said, “From what you say, Lily knew her health was weak and that she wouldn’t make old bones. I suspect that she decided to seize life with both hands while she could. She wanted to love and be loved. She wanted passion, and she found those things with you. When she was fading at the end, was she angry? Did she blame you?”

  “No,” he said slowly. “But I thought she must be concealing anger so as not to hurt me.” His voice broke. “The last words she said were that she loved me.”

  “Oh, Will.” Athena raised his hand and pressed it to her cheek. “That you loved each other was a great blessing, even if the two of you didn’t have enough time together.”

  Will exhaled roughly. “You’re wise, little owl. Perhaps you’re right. All I’ve seen for years is the loss and my failure to care for her properly.”

  “Haven’t you helped a great many others over the years? For example, risking your life pulling drowning nuns and children out of a river? Didn’t all your rogues in need of redemption pitch in to help?”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that I failed Lily.”

  “That’s debatable. Even if it were true, we all make mistakes, and decent people punish themselves for things outside their control,” she said gently. “But you’ve done much to balance the scales. Lily on one side, many other generous deeds on the other. Surely, those scales are even by now.”

  Will frowned. “I’ll have to think about that. In the meantime, it’s my turn to ask awkward and possibly painful questions. Tell me of your love life. Did you have one great, lost love?”

  Reluctantly, she said, “An intense mad calf love that wasn’t fully intimate, and later one great, mad misjudgment. The calf love died when I realized that the object of my infatuation wouldn’t dream of marrying Lady Whore’s Daughter, though he was quite keen on doing anything short of actually ruining me.” She thought she’d discovered true love everlasting. Instead, she’d learned about betrayal.

  Will whistled softly. “More and more I understand your low opinion of so-called gentlemen. What about the mad misjudgment?”

  She hated having to reveal her stupidity, but she had to admit that Will’s program of probing questions had given them a remarkable degree of emotional intimacy in a very short period of time. She’d never been able to talk to a man like this.

  “It wasn’t long after the calf love devastation. I decided I would be like Delilah and take lovers and enjoy wild, passionate affairs, then move on, heart whole.” She sighed. “I liked the passion part, you see.”

  “Being passionate is one of your many admirable traits,” Will said firmly. “But I gather that didn’t work out well?”

  “I found out I could not lie with a man without coming to care too much, and that way devastation lay,” she explained, unable to keep bitterness from her voice. “That’s when I realized I must resign myself to virtuous spinsterhood.”

  Will frowned. “Your lover wouldn’t marry you?”

  “He was married already. I was trying to be like Delilah. The affair made me realize I could never, ever be like her. I didn’t even want to be like her.” She caught Will’s gaze. “We have come together as two adults, experienced and with our eyes open. That does not mean you must marry me, even if you think honor demands it.”

  “Honor bedamned, I want to marry you!” he said with exasperation. “But now it’s time to sleep. Tomorrow will be another long, tiring day.” He drew her into his arms and tucked the blankets around them, then brushed a kiss on her forehead.

  “You aren’t going to give up, are you?” She rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the relaxed intimacy of his embrace, the feel of his arm around her.

  “No, but for the next few days, other concerns will come first.” He hesitated, then went on, “You’re as stubborn as I am, so changing your mind might never happen. But if I’m killed, please, please, go to my brother even if you don’t need help. Tell him about my time in San Gabriel. He’ll want to know.”

  “I promise I will,” she whispered. She owed Will that much and more.

  So much more.

  Chapter 29

  He was losing her.

  Will woke up with his heart pounding, his brain a jumble of loss and panic, of fading Lily and vanishing Athena. His heart slowed down when he saw that Athena still lay sleeping in his arms. He studied her peaceful face and wondered if Justin had been right in his guess of who her father might be. She’d said “the dreadful duke,” and there weren’t very many dukes. Not that it mattered to him, but it surely mattered to her.

  She woke and gave him a sweetly sultry smile before her gaze went to the window. Dawn.

  “I have to go!” She started to swing from the bed. “I can’t risk being caught in immoral behavior that might reflect badly on Sofia.”

  “Just a moment more. Please.” His arms locked around her. “I thought we’d wake earlier and have a little more time. I wanted to make love to you again.” But could he have borne that if he’d known it might be the last time?

  “That would have been a splendid way to greet the day,” she said softly, her face against his throat, her embrace as tight as his. “But given how very long yesterday was, and how busy we were for much of the night, it’s not surprising that we didn’t wake early.” She pulled away, smiling with a warmth and lack of reserve he’d never seen before. “I did sleep very, very well, though.”

  “I also slept well. You’re good for me.” He cupped her cheek, aching with regret for all they might have had. “We might not have another chance to be together. I’ll spend the day organizing the militia, scouting out the ambush area, and planning how to best use my black powder. I might not make it back to the castle tonight. Tomorrow night we’ll be settling into our ambush positions and waiting for the French.”

  She bit her lip. “I’ll be equally busy helping to evacuate as many people as possible to safer places, as well as making sure they all have the supplies needed to hold out until the troops return.”

  “It’s going to be a busy day, but surely we can fit a short little wedding ceremony in after breakfast?” His tone was light, but he was in dead earnest.

  She kissed him and slipped away. “Our schedules are far too busy, my dear Major Masterson.” She scooped her robe up from the floor and pulled it on quickly. As she tied the sash, she whispered, “Keep yourself safe, Will! The world needs you.” Then her graceful figure silently slipped from the room and was gone.

  He lay back, staring up at the ceiling, his hands clenched at his sides. He might never see Athena again, and the thought ripped his heart from his chest.

  Then he rose, washed and shaved, and donned his uniform. He had a war to fight. And then, by God, he’d come back and change her mind about marriage.

  * * *

  Breakfast with the Olivieras was somber but not panic-stricken. At least this time, they had warning of the French invasion. Justin was at the far end of the table, bandaged but looking reasonably well. He gave Will a thumbs-up and a smile. Athena wasn’t present, and neither was Sofia. He wondered if they’d already eaten and set off on their tasks, or if Athena was trying to avoid him.

  His new captains, Tom Murphy and Gilberto Oliviera, were sitting at one end of the long table, with an empty chair between them, and they be
ckoned for Will to join them. Like him, they were dressed in their well worn uniforms.

  “Where do we begin planning, Generalissimo?” Tom asked, grinning.

  “For calling me that, Gilberto will be senior captain and my second in command,” Will said as he took his seat.

  “See, Murphy? The generalissimo recognizes superior skill,” Gilberto said teasingly as he passed a plate of savory sausages to Will, followed by another platter of baked eggs with potatoes and peppers.

  “It’s just because you’re a Gabrileño,” Tom retorted. A large coffeepot was set in the middle of the table, so he filled Will’s mug, then topped up his and Gilberto’s.

  Will took a grateful swallow of coffee. “You’re right, Gilberto is second in command because he’s Gabrileño and knows more about his country than you or I ever will. He is also not prone to lower his dignity by running donkey races.”

  “An Irish specialty,” Tom explained to Gilberto. “And great fun.”

  Gilberto smiled, but his levity quickly faded. “We’ll not have time for donkey races on this campaign. Major Masterson, what are my duties for the day?”

  “You’re in charge of organizing the militiamen, since you know which men are most reliable and who will be steadiest under fire. Your veterans will be the backbone of our forces and they need to be mingled throughout the ranks to steady the others.”

  “And me, sir?” Tom asked, also serious.

  “You and I will scout the ambush area to figure out where to place our men and the best use of our black powder. Gilberto, can you recommend a scout? Someone to go up the road into Spain and give us warning of advancing troops.”

  Gilberto considered. “Joaquim Cavaco. My father says he’s the best young poacher in San Gabriel. He’s quick and clever and looks younger than he is, so if the French notice him, they might not think he’s a danger. The French killed his father last year, so he will be eager to undertake the task. I’ll summon him here so he can guide you up the Spanish road.”

  “He sounds perfect,” Will said. “Tom, have you any thoughts about how we should proceed?”

 

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