Weathering Rock

by Mae Clair

  “Damn.”

  There was frustration in his growl. She felt the sudden fierce press of his erection against her backside, the last of his restraint shattered by her seductive teasing. His fingers tightened on her shoulders, digging for purchase, trying to possess her. He closed his mouth over hers, and she tumbled headfirst into the domineering power of his kiss.

  In the span of a single heartbeat, tenderness replaced need. He wrapped his arms around her, the strength of his affection crashing over her with a gentleness that left her shaken.

  “I think you should take me upstairs,” she murmured against his mouth. “Make love to me, Caleb. You know you want to.”

  He groaned low in his throat and buried his face in her hair. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “I do.” She pressed against him, her nipples rigid beneath the clingy fabric of the black bodysuit. It pulled taut, scratchy and abrading against her softer flesh. She squirmed, wanting him to touch her, willing him to stroke her sensitized skin. “I appreciate your concern for my virtue.” She could barely talk, breathless and trembling. “But it isn’t necessary.”

  His chest was bare, the uniform jacket splayed open, his shirt wide and gaping to the waist. She wanted him. Every male inch of him, leaving her mindless, drugged senseless with love and passion. His hand found her breast and she moaned into his ear, unnerved when he grazed his thumb across her erect nipple. A shock-wave of sensation pinged into her brain and she shuddered in pleasure.

  “Caleb.”

  He dropped his lips to her neck, molding the pulse point in her throat. She could feel him growing harder, his erection throbbing into the crease of her backside. It grew incredibly difficult to ignore the feel of him, to restrain herself from acting on impulse and desire. He came from another century, a time when women were demure and mannerly and never did anything forward or wanton. Not respectable women.

  He’d told her he’d never been in love.

  She knew enough about the Civil War to understand the nature of camp followers. Had he only slept with courtesans and prostitutes? What would he do if she touched him?

  “Caleb, you are either going to take me upstairs and make love to me, or I’m going to pretend I’m a camp follower and seduce you.” She slid her hand up the inside of his thigh, boldly cupping the swollen source of heat between his legs. Shocked by the feel of him, she gasped, a searing spike of pleasure spiraling through her belly.

  “Hades, Annie.” He kissed her long and hard, leaning forward until she was wedged against the arm of the couch. He slid his arm under her knees, cradled her mid-back with the other. Before she had time to register what the hold meant, he stood, lifting her against his chest, looking down with a smile that left her breathless.

  “It’s a long walk upstairs. In my century, a gentleman carries a lady.”

  Chapter 19

  He’d never made love in his bedroom. When he thought about it, he’d never made love at all. There’d been women. Courtesans, acquaintances and town girls from the time he was in his late teens. During the war he’d indulged with several camp followers, including a fiery redhead named Claudia. She’d made it her custom to visit him before any of his men, favoring him with her ultimate performance and smiling like a gypsy when she left him panting and breathless.

  And empty.

  From that first moment in the hayloft with Louise Fetterman when he was seventeen, through every encounter that followed, he’d felt desolate afterward, his body satisfied, his heart painfully barren. But tonight was different.

  Staring down at the raven-haired woman in his arms, Caleb knew he stood on a threshold. One that involved love and commitment and would test his conscience in ways nothing else had.

  It was dark in his bedroom, the massive four-poster bed crowned by dense whorls of velvety shadow, a matching bureau and desk reduced to bulky silhouettes. He kicked the door shut behind him and set Arianna’s feet on the floor, trapping her against his chest. He wanted her naked and twined in his arms, her love burning through him with a purity that banished the darkness. He had no doubt she loved him, no doubt he loved her. Admitting it was the problem.

  Saying those words aloud involved trust and surrender, feelings he jealousy guarded. He held no illusions about his personality. He was a hard man, arrogant at times, domineering and controlling when he had to be. Command had taught him distance. Seth had taught him that even the people he cared about were capable of hurting him. As much as he loved Arianna, the part that had been wounded and scarred by Seth remained cautious. The only certainty of the moment was that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  Cupping her chin, he coaxed her head back, tipping her face toward his. Her eyes glittered with the touch of sun-fired glass, green as the fields of Weathering Rock, her skin haloed by starlight and shadow.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  The sight of her made his mouth go dry. The soft pink bow of her lips, parted and moist from his kisses; the sharp rise and fall of her breasts, pale honey and cameo cream in the darkness. The black cascade of her hair tumbled over her shoulders like a soft veil of jet silk.

  He bent closer to kiss her and fumbled for the zipper at the back of her costume, muttering beneath his breath when it caught on the fabric. It took two hands before the blasted thing gave, gliding down the slim curve of her back, ending at the top of her buttocks. He played his fingers up her spine, taking the time to caress each sensitive vertebra. When he reached her shoulder, he rounded her arm and slipped his hand inside the gaping material to caress her breast.

  Arianna moaned.

  He grinned against her hair, savoring the sound. “I like when you do that.” He tried to control his breathing, but she affected him like no female had before. His pants were so tight he was certain he would burst. She didn’t help by wriggling against him, her fingernails scraping over his chest.

  “I have something you’ll like even better,” she breathed into his ear. Pulling out of his embrace, she stepped from her shoes. He watched with interest as she shimmied from her snug black outfit. It was almost too much to endure, her pert backside bobbing up and down as she worked the clingy fabric down her legs. Entranced, he shrugged from his jacket and shirt, dumping them unceremoniously on the floor. By that time, she had perched on the edge of the bed and was delicately peeling off the black fishnet stockings. The sight of her sitting naked but for a lacy wisp of pink underwear no larger than his handkerchief pushed him over the edge. The twenty-first century might lack in many ways, but he’d readily admit a definite weakness for the sight of a woman in skimpy lingerie.

  And not just any woman.

  “Annie.” He made it to the bed in three strides, pulling her to her feet, wrapping her in his arms. He nuzzled her ear, groaning at the feel of her naked breasts crushed to his chest. “You’re so damn beautiful.” He couldn’t keep his hands off of her, stroking and caressing until their bodies blazed with heat and she trembled in his embrace. It made him remember birth control, a term Wyn had educated him about when conducting his wretched STD tests.

  “It’s a condom,” Wyn had explained, handing him a foil-wrapped packet. “It keeps the woman from getting pregnant, and it keeps you both safe from unprotected sex.”

  “I know what a condom is. We weren’t total Neanderthals in the nineteenth century, Winston.” Caleb looked at the diminutive square doubtfully, turning it over in his hand as if it might reveal some hidden magic. He knew about gonorrhea and syphilis and Wyn had lectured him about something called AIDS. He already knew he was free of any STDs, thanks to Wyn’s testing. The trick, as his nephew explained, was remaining that way.

  The problem, as Caleb saw it, was that the little foil wrapped packet looked nothing like any condom he was familiar with.

  “What do I do with it?”

  “What do you think, genius? You wear it. You know…” Wyn stumbled for words. “On your…” He motioned at the front of his jeans.

  Caleb snorted. �
�Are you insane, man? It would never fit.”

  “I have something in my bureau,” he said to Arianna. “It will only take a moment.”

  He started to draw away, but she held fast. “You mean a condom?”

  He looked down at her startled. “You know what I’m talking about?”

  “Of course I do, but you don’t have to worry. I’m on the Pill. And you already told me you passed Wyn’s STD tests with flying colors. I wasn’t positive, so I had a condom in my purse just in case you weren’t prepared. Looks like we won’t need either.”

  He was flummoxed. “You planned to sleep with me?”

  “Let’s just say I knew it was going to happen sooner or later. I like it even better that you don’t have to wear one.” She smoothed a hand over his chest, parting with a teasing smile. “Are you going to sully me now?”

  He was torn between laughing or applauding her boldness. Either way, the playful glint of her eyes made his blood burn and his heart swell. Her fingertips grazed his stomach, slipping beneath his waistband.

  “These pants have to go, Caleb.”

  He felt her manipulate the button fly, the fondling caress of her hand stripping his mind of all but passion. Unable to bear it any longer, he eased her back on the bed. It took only a moment to shed his remaining clothing, a second more to bend over her, one knee wedged between her thighs. Her panties were luminescent in the darkness, bright pink, edged with lace. He flirted with the hem, not wanting to rush, enjoying her fluttery intake of breath. When she reached both arms for him, he folded into her embrace, stroking her through the skimpy panties until she shuddered with pleasure. Her nails sank into his back, her hips shifting to accommodate him.

  He trailed kisses from her mouth to her throat, his head filled with the intoxicating scent of her. She whimpered and squirmed, arching against him until he could stand it no longer. She knotted her hands in his hair, eagerly seeking his mouth with hers. He pushed the panties from her hips, nearly ripping the delicate fabric in his haste to have her naked beneath him. Just as zealous, she gripped his waist, guiding him inside.

  She was sunlight and summer, the fairy-tale enchantment of true love. His heart quaked even as his body shuddered with passion. Naked flesh to naked flesh, he carried them to a lightning-streaked summit, his lips tasting hers, hands caressing the quivering satin of her flesh. She cried out when the release came, arching her back, wrapping her arms around his neck. He rode the crest with her, carrying her still further on the engulfing wave. Burying his face in her hair, he spilled into her, shuddering with his own staggering release, then held her wrapped in his arms, unwilling to break apart.

  “Stay with me tonight.” He palmed the hair from her forehead, kissing her gently. “Stay in my bed. I don’t want you to leave.”

  She nodded, but her eyes were suspiciously bright.

  “Annie?” He watched a single tear track down her cheek. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

  She managed a watery smile. “Absolutely nothing. For the first time in my life, everything is exactly as it should be.”

  * * * *

  Arianna snuggled closer under Caleb’s arm, her cheek pressed to his chest. She wasn’t certain he was asleep, but his breathing had deepened and evened into a steady flow. A light summer sheet partially draped her hips but left him mostly exposed. After that first explosive encounter they’d slowed things down, taking the time to learn each other’s bodies, stroking and kissing until both were senseless with need all over again. She’d climbed on top of him, rocking against his hips, boldly pleasing them both. She could still feel the grip of his hands on her waist, holding fast, his head arched back against the pillow, blond hair coin-bright in the darkness. When he could stand it no longer, he’d tumbled her beneath him, kissing her, filling her so completely she thought her heart would burst.

  Later, twined in each other’s arms, they’d talked softly, snuggled together in the darkness, a sliver of star-shine turning the night to enchanted magic. She’d finally found the only man whom she’d ever love, only to realize he might easily be wrenched backward in time.

  “Annie.” Caleb inhaled drowsily, stroking her arm. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. It’s late.”

  Sweetheart.

  She loved the old-fashioned sound of the name. They’d made love and suddenly he was showering her with endearments. He hadn’t said he loved her, but his demeanor had changed.

  “How do you know I’m awake?”

  “Aside from the fact you’re talking to me?” He kissed the top of her head. “I can tell the difference in your breathing. Aren’t you tired? You wore me out.”

  “I doubt that, Colonel.” She rolled onto her stomach and pillowed an arm on his chest. Propping her chin on her hand, she smiled mischievously. “Given the chance, I bet you’d sully me again.”

  He groaned. “Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

  “Probably not. Especially when I find it incurably cute.”

  “Four times in one night is too much even for me. I’m thirty-three, Annie, not eighteen.”

  “And tired.” She smoothed a hand over his cheek, inching forward to kiss him. “At least your headache went away.”

  “I found the permanent cure.” Cupping a hand behind her head, he deepened the kiss.

  A loud boom echoed through the house. “Caleb, what–?” She started to swing her legs over the side of the bed but he caught her arm.

  “Stay put. It’s only Winston.”

  “Wyn?” Her voice climbed an octave in shock. “But that noise–”

  “Is my nephew slamming the front door. It’s his way of announcing he’s perturbed.”

  She blinked, confused. “About what?”

  “About your car in the driveway. It’s after two. I’m guessing Winston has just wandered home from the party and realized, with your car out front, the only place you can possibly be is in my bed.”

  Self-conscious, she tugged up the sheet to cover her breasts. Her hair fell forward, black as his was fair, tumbling over one bare shoulder. “And that bothers him?”

  “He’ll adjust.” He gave a gentle tug, settling her into his arms, and tipped her lips up to his. “I’ve never actually slept with a woman before. Usually after…well, you know…” He looked awkward. “We went our separate ways.”

  “Am I supposed to find that flattering?”

  “No.” He sank back against the pillows with a loud exhale. His eyes were mostly pupil in the darkness, ringed by a thin band of blue. “That was thoughtless. I’m sorry. I haven’t had much experience with love.”

  She watched him steadily, unnerved by that single heart-thumping word. Before she could change her mind, she asked the obvious. “Are you saying you love me, Caleb?”

  “I–” Indecision touched his gaze, the strife of longing at war with commitment.

  “I love being with you,” he said at last. “I love what we shared tonight. I can’t imagine ever wanting to be with anyone else.”

  She forced a smile. “I feel the same.” What did she expect? Vows of undying devotion and marriage proposals? They’d made love. That was all. He wasn’t the first man she’d slept with. Why was it so damn important he say he loved her?

  She leaned forward and kissed him. “I love that I can spend the night with you,” she murmured, settling into his arms. She turned her cheek to his chest and closed her eyes. There was nothing wrong with enjoying a healthy, sexual relationship. Whether he loved her or not, she intended to take Caleb DeCardian any way she could have him.

  * * * *

  Caleb heard Wyn puttering around the kitchen sometime after eight o’clock. By the time he and Arianna got up and dressed, it was closer to nine. He would have preferred to lie in bed, holding her wrapped in his arms, but Wyn was determined to rouse them, rattling silverware and banging cupboard doors.

  “Maybe Wyn needs help in the kitchen,” Arianna suggested, sitting on the edge of a padded chair to slip on her shoes.

  “What h
e needs is a swift kick in the ass-end,” Caleb muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  Zipping his jeans, he crossed to the closet where he located a beige button-front shirt, then grabbed a second at random.

  “Here.” He offered the shirt to Arianna. “That outfit might have been suitable for the costume party, but it’s inappropriate for daytime.”

  She arched her brows at him. “Are you trying to tell me how to dress?”

  “I’m trying to tell you that I don’t want other men looking at you the way I did. Do.” He fumbled to explain, failing miserably. Damn, if the obscenely skimpy outfit wasn’t getting to him all over again! His bed was still unmade, rumpled and warm from the heat of their bodies. If it wasn’t for Wyn pounding away downstairs, he’d have no qualms about making love to her until the sun climbed in the noon sky. “Humor me,” he said, knowing he’d run out of ammunition.

  She moved into his embrace without taking the shirt and locked her arms around his waist to stare up at him. “That’s going to cost you, Colonel. I want a kiss now and dinner tonight.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, but we’ll have to make dinner tomorrow. I have a previous engagement tonight.” Darkness would bring the rise of a full moon, sentencing him to a night of torment locked in the cellar.

  “Oh? Who is she?”

  “Trust me, I’d much rather be spending my time with you.” He gathered her close and covered her mouth with his, pleased when she grew responsive in his arms. He would have kissed her until they were both drunk with passion, but a loud bang from downstairs told him it was time to address his nephew’s irritation.

  Arianna looked puzzled. “I don’t understand what I did to upset Wyn.”

  “It’s not you, Annie. It’s me.” He helped her into the shirt, cuffing the sleeves on her arms. It dwarfed her slim frame, the tails hanging halfway down her thighs. She buttoned it partially, then looked around for her handbag. “Maybe we should double with Wyn and Lauren,” she suggested distractedly.