by Jo Goodman
A giggle, completely unexpected, certainly unwanted, followed by a light pinch on his buttock brought Salem to awareness.
"Wake up, you cheeky rogue, and have done with ravishing me in your sleep."
"God!" Salem groaned, looking down at the tangle of arms and legs and sheets. He fell back on the bed, covering his eyes with his forearm. "Did I hurt you?" He still ached with wanting, but his needs faded as he thought he may have harmed her.
Ashley leaned over him, brushing her naked breasts against his chest and kissing him fully on the mouth. "No, you didn't hurt me. I was finding you everything delightful, but I prefer you awake. Anyway, I admit to being jealous."
"Jealous?" He raised his arm, grey eyes surveying her skeptically. "Of whom?"
"Of the women you love in your dreams."
"You shouldn't be. They're all you."
"I don't think that is always true, but it's good of you to say so."
He smiled gently and his forefinger fell to the puckered scar on her breast. He traced the brand then added the letters O, V, E to the L. "That never stood for Lynne at all."
"I think you must be right. Love is everything I feel for you."
"And I you." He hesitated. "Ashley, at the risk of shattering our mood—"
"I know. You want to talk about Nigel."
"Yes. I doubt that he will ever give up, not while he lives."
She laid her head on his chest, placing her hands on his shoulders. Her eyes closed. "I hope that you are wrong, that something will bring him to his senses."
"I will have to act to protect you, Ashley. It may mean doing more than dealing with the men Nigel will send for you. I promise I will not commit myself to any course of action until I've explored every legal means to have him stopped. With the war, there may be no way to pursue justice."
"But you will try, won't you? I cannot help but fear trying to stop Nigel by employing his methods."
"I will try," Salem said. "If that is what you want, I will do it."
She nodded. Her hair tickled his chest as she moved. Her palms lightly rubbed his shoulders, easing the stiffness. At length, when she felt him relax beneath her caress, she lowered her mouth to his flat nipple, flicking it with the tip of her tongue.
"Are you still awake?" she whispered as her hand slipped past his flat belly to rest casually on his inner thigh.
"Madam. Can you doubt it?"
Ashley's hand passed over him lightly. "This? You do this when you're sleeping, too."
He growled low in his throat.
She lifted her head and kissed the dimple slashed in the side of his face. "Well, you do. And I want you to be awake when we make this baby."
"Baby?" His question was muffled because of her lips hovering over his mouth.
"Mm. A child. Like Courtney. Do you think we might manage it."
He pretended to consider. "I can't be certain that we'll hit on it this very time, but of a certainty we can try."
"I'd like that, please."
Salem laughed, captivated by her sassy expression. "I'd like it, too."
With the activity mutually agreed upon it seemed wasteful to spend any more time in discussion. That is why it was some time later before Ashley's hushed sigh broke the loving silence.
"Salem."
He doubted there was anything sweeter than the sound of his name on her lips. He fell asleep, pillowing her head on the crook of his shoulder and dreamed of her saying it just that way again. And again.
Ashley lay awake for a long time, savoring the gentle thudding of his heart beneath her palm. She decided she could have asked no more of life than to give her the love of Jerusalem McClellan. When he sighed her name well into his dreams, she pressed her smile against his warm skin and fell asleep, wondering what libertine ways her rogue was practicing now.
The End
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Want more from Jo Goodman?
Continue on for an excerpt from
SEASWEPT ABANDON
The McClellans Series
Book Two
~
"What are you doing now, Red?" Jericho asked a trifle roughly. It was the headache that made him testy, he told himself, and not the sight of the damp garment hugging her curves.
Startled, she lifted her head jerkily. She flushed, embarrassed as she recalled Jericho's arms about her, and wondered why she should be nervous with him now. "I had to wash my things," she explained, offering a small, uncertain smile. "They were caked with mud. Now I'm going to wash my hair."
When she turned her face on him fully, Jericho recoiled at the sight of her scratched cheek. He fastened his eyes at some point in the water behind her. "You have some soap?"
Her gaze dropped to her reflection in the bucket. Self-consciously she picked at a few strands of hair and covered the reddened weal. "I found a little in the wardrobe. You don't mind, do you?"
Did she think him a complete ogre? "No, of course I don't mind. Use anything that strikes your fancy." He hesitated. "Do you want some help?"
"Er—no... I can manage." Before he could protest her decision, she ducked her head into the bucket and thoroughly wet her hair. When she came up and reached blindly for the soap it was his hand that put it into hers. "Thank you." Her head bent, she began to work what passed for a lather into her hair.
Jericho watched for a while and finally gave in to the urge that seized his trembling fingers. He dropped on his haunches beside her and took the soap from her. "Let me," he commanded roughly, then more softly, "Please."
She was too stupified to pull away from the tug of his fingers in her hair. She nodded mutely, closing her eyes as his gentle hands massaged her scalp. Her hands fell uselessly to her side while his soaped the short tendrils of hair curling at her nape and temples. There was a curious heat building inside her, and breathing seemed more difficult now than it had when she was being dragged willy-nilly through the water. She squirmed uneasily beneath his touch.
"Am I hurting you?" Jericho asked, his fingers stilling.
"No... you're not hurting me," she denied. Not in any way that I understand, she amended silently.
Jericho's fingers stirred again and he continued to rub the lather through each silky strand, marveling that the water had not doused the fire in her hair, only darkened it. What magnificent hair for a harlot, he reminded himself critically, hoping to stem the burning building within him. It was not particularly effective, and the tension in every line of his body showed no signs of abating.
"Rinse," he said tersely. She leaned forward and Jericho poured the water over her head. He ignored her sputterings, drew another bucket, and rinsed her one more time. He spilled a goodly amount of the cold river water on his shirt and breeches. If he had known how to swim he would have leaped into the water and stayed there until his temperature cooled.
She flung back her wet hair and stared mutely at Jericho, a question in the dark velvet of her eyes. There was a harshness in his face that she did not understand. What had she done this time? Why did he always look at her as if he wished to throttle her? Water dripped in tiny rivulets from her hairline, past her temples, and along her pink cheeks. Her spiky lashes fluttered to stem the flow as if she were fighting tears.
"Damn you," he muttered, his eyes darkening. "I knew you'd be trouble." He leaned closer to her upturned and startled face. Her mouth was so close to his that if she touched her tongue to her own lips he would be able to taste her. "I reckon your kind can't help it."
~
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>
Seaswept Abandon
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About the Author
Jo Goodman is a licensed professional counselor working with children and families in West Virginia's Northern Panhandle. Always a fan of the happily ever after, Jo turned to writing romances early in her career as a child care worker when she realized the only life script she could control was the one she wrote herself. She is inspired by the resiliency and courage of the children she meets and feels privileged to be trusted with their stories, the ones that they alone have the right to tell.
Once upon a time, Jo believed she was going to be a marine biologist. She knows she is lucky that seasickness made her change course. She lives with her family in Colliers, West Virginia. Please visit her website at www.jogoodman.com or hang out with her at www.facebook.com/jogoodmanromance.