by Dayna Quince
“That is good,” Callen said. Though he didn't see why any of that would warrant Roderick carrying Anne from the beach.
“I tried to help, but… Bernie wouldn't let me.” And that was the hurt that Callen could see in her eyes. In the pinched lines around her mouth and the tense set of her shoulders. She was denied helping someone. Her best skill, her very purpose in life, and her sister had rejected it.
“Aren't you the resident physician?” Theo asked.
Her gaze snapped him. “I suppose not.”
Callen sent a glare to his brother that told him to make haste away from them. Theo turned and strode away without another word. At least sometimes he listened.
“Anne didn't want your help?” he asked cautiously.
She shook her head, staring out to sea, tears catching in her eyelashes and reflecting the sun like little crystals.
“I didn't even have the chance to ask her. I tried to follow, and it was Bernie who told me to stay. She said… She said they will fetch a real doctor if they have need of one, and I should stay here.” Her voice broke on the last word, and before he knew it, before he had time to consider who might see, he pulled her into his arms and rested his cheek on the top of her head. She gripped the sleeves of his jacket, but she was so still. He didn't know if she was crying, but she didn't pull away from him.
She didn't make a sound, at least, not one he could hear above the roar of the sea, the crashing waves, and the racing of his own pulse in his ears.
Callen glanced toward the path that led up to where the horses were waiting, and he didn't see anyone. He didn't think anyone could see them unless they stood on the very edge of the bluff. She shifted her feet and looked up at him.
“Why would she say that to me?”
“I don't know but she's wrong. A bruised bottom is far beneath your skill. Maybe she didn't mean it. Maybe she said it too quickly, and she didn't think about it or how it might make you feel.”
“But… I've always been the first person they turned to. I’m even studying to be my mother's midwife when the baby comes. I've tended Georgie numerous times. Every little cut, bump, or scrape, animal or human. They've all turned to me. If I don't serve a purpose to them, then what am I? What need can I fill for my family if they don't believe in me?”
“I believe in you,” he said, and he meant every word of it. “And I need you. That may not mean as much coming from someone you hardly know, who's made some very poor choices, but I need you, Luna.”
She bounced up on her toes and caught his mouth in a kiss, and he was so stunned he didn't know what to do at first. He forgot about his bleeding wound, and he hugged her tightly to him. Her arms came around his back, her mouth opened under his, and he plundered the treasure that she offered. And just for a brief second, he forgot about everything. The pain in his side, the ocean, the bluffs, the people that could be watching them from above. It all melted away until they were in a world of just him and her, and that was all that mattered. This was his heaven, and he didn't want to have to ever let go. That was the moment the spell broke, and he had to pull away.
She stared up at him, the hurt gone from her eyes and replaced by the haze of desire. They were only falling deeper into its hold, and he didn't want to fight it. He wanted to fall with her, and damn his brother, damn everyone.
The wind picked up, blasting them with the chill coming from the sea.
Was it a warning?
Was he being reminded of something important? Yes, death. There was more at stake than just his own happiness, than his bitter resentment toward his brother. His life had been at stake, but Luna had saved him. But it was up to Callen to save his brother. There had to be another way, and if there was, Callen was going to use these last few days he had to find it. For the first time, he was going to fight for what he wanted, not sit by and let another opportunity, another chance at happiness slip through his fingers.
“Thank you,” she said. “I needed to hear that, and I needed you.”
For Callen, it was the first time being needed by someone wasn't followed by a feeling of dread, by the press of an invisible burden upon his shoulders. Like every time his brother entered his study in the morning, bleary-eyed, unshaven, with the look of a man who’d done something regrettable but didn't regret it. It was Callen who mostly did all the regretting but not this time. Whatever time he had left with Luna, he would never regret. No matter how it ended.
Chapter 14
Callen retired to his room after he and the rest of the guests returned to the castle. Miss Marsden's fall at the beach seemed to throw the rest of the day’s planned activities into chaos. Callen would have joined the other gentlemen for a round of billiards as his brother had suggested, but he needed to see to his wound first. He'd begun to keep a tally of all the sheets Luna was ripping apart to make his bandages. On the way to his room, he pilfered another one from a linen closet. He set the folded linen on the bed and removed his jacket and waistcoat. A small splotch of red stained his shirt. He cursed as he removed it and began to unwind the bandage, hoping he'd remember how to reapply it without Luna's help. They had become separated when they returned to the castle, and she was with her sisters.
He didn't know how to communicate with her without catching anyone’s notice. But he wasn't completely helpless, he scolded himself. He'd like to think he wasn't and that he could change a simple bandage by himself. But what he didn't have was Luna's magic salve to reapply to the new linens.
He slowly removed the folded pad that was held against his wound, and while there was fresh blood that had soaked through the pad, it was no longer bleeding to his relief. He picked up the sheet and he tore a strip larger than what Luna usually made. He tossed it aside and made another, closer to the width of the original bandage.
He had his back to the door and it opened.
“I thought you were playing billiards,” he said over his shoulder.
“I didn't receive an invitation,” Luna replied.
He stilled, his nerve endings stretching with delight as he slowly turned to face her. He struggled to form an appropriate or responsible reply like, You shouldn't be here. Or… Well, there was simply no other appropriate response.
She shouldn't be here. But he was so glad she was.
“How did you know?”
“Your brother sent a message to me through Nic, of all people,” she said.
“What did he say to her?”
“That you must have strained a muscle in your side and would like a sample of my magic potion.” She giggled as she came to his side and inspected the damage, the tips of her fingers cool against his skin.
His muscles flickered at her touch, tantalized and eager for more.
He cleared his throat. “I slipped and twisted oddly down at the tide pools. It began to bleed immediately. Is that bad?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. I wouldn't expect anything less.”
She bent close to the wound and the sight of her face agonizingly near his groin, her derriere thrust out with a seductive curve to her back, made his blood simmer. He was certain she wasn't doing it on purpose. She didn't know what she was doing to him. All his muscles locked in place as she continued to examine his wound, oblivious to his state of arousal.
This was a terrible idea. Luna alone with him in his room and he couldn't seem to remember why he shouldn't take her in his arms and kiss her again. It sounded like the best idea he’d ever had.
Certainly better than the plans he'd made of late, interfering in his brother's duel, stepping between two men with pistols, executing a plan to smuggle his brother out of the country. Why, kissing Luna again just might be the smartest thing he could do at this moment. His head, his heart, his groin readily agreed.
She stood and went to fetch her supplies, digging through a satchel, her hand emerging with the small jar of the salve. She came back, set it down on his nightstand, and began to rip the sheet with far more capability than he had.
; “I see you've taken to stealing sheets as well?”
“I’ll reimburse him,” he said. He had the urge to smile though he didn't really know what was amusing. He was bleeding, he was aroused, and the focus of his arousal was standing within arm’s reach about to slay him with her tender and capable touch once more.
There wasn't particularly any one thing amusing about this moment, other than he was an utter imbecile. But he didn't care because he was just happy to have her near him, happy to be alone with her.
Alone.
He glanced at the door.
“Did you lock my door?”
“I did. I happened to overhear the gentlemen discussing a billiard game, but I didn't know if all the gentlemen would be in the billiard room, so I locked it just in case. I'm used to my sisters barging in unannounced, but I'm not sure if the same can be said of gentlemen who are merely friends.”
“They would knock… I hope. Unless they were trying to catch another with a woman for their own amusement.”
“How is that amusing?” Her gaze met his, and she seemed genuinely curious.
“Because it would embarrass them. From boyhood to manhood, the desire to irritate or embarrass one's friend or sibling never goes away.”
“The same can be said of sisters. Just this morning, Nic told me I was being annoying and intrusive.” She frowned at him. “When have I ever been intrusive?”
He grinned at her. “You? Intrusive? No. But you did barge into my room and demand I undress and show you my wound.”
She bit her lip as she smiled, as if she was afraid to smile.
“I only did that to save your life.”
“And I'm so glad you did, but it was still rather intrusive.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree. I saved your life.”
“That you did.”
And so much more.
Which reminded him that he was supposed to be saving his brother’s life. A bit of the earlier doom and gloom returned. He refocused on her, and it evaporated once again. Right now his brother was playing billiards and Callen was alone with Luna, half naked, and the door locked.
If he had the reputation of a rake, it was only honorary. He'd never dallied with an innocent, and he did not treat women carelessly. He supposed the title came from the crowd he moved with, men like Roderick, Weirick, his own brother. Their reputations preceded them, and he was guilty by association. Not that he minded.
Women loved a bit of danger. He lived a very cautious life, and right now he was going to take a risk.
She stood before him, so tempting, and he knew she would not reject him. As he reached for her, his wound protested and a trickle of blood rolled down his hip.
He muttered a curse and glared down at his blasted wound.
She hadn't even noticed he moved, she was so focused on applying her salve to the new bandage.
She looked up, saw the blood, and frowned. “Well, at least it is fresh and clean. Let me clean you up a bit and get the bandage back on. But you need to be careful of your movement. Your flesh is rather tender right now and will bleed easily. This is a delicate stage in the healing process, and you will have to take more care. No more trips to the tide pools, and riding is most likely out of the question.”
Done and done.
But he wasn't about to lie in bed like an invalid. He would wait until the bandage was replaced before seeing to his next immediate need.
Her.
He stood as she replaced the bandage, and while it burned when she removed the old salve-covered cotton and replaced it with the new, it was not nearly as painful as when he'd had the infection.
How long had it been?
Only two days, two miraculous days but it felt so much longer.
She placed the square pad over the hole and began to wrap the strip around him.
“I must say, I am very pleased with your progress. The wound is already not as deep as it was the first time I treated you. The tissue is knitting together nicely, which is why your sudden movement today when you slipped might have caused such bleeding. The tissue is just so new and fragile.”
It was only a moment more before she finished the last strip of the bandage. He watched as she went to wash her hands in the basin and dried them on a towel. She drew close again, packing up her supplies.
Now was his time to strike.
He stepped closer, cupped the back of her head, and as she turned to him in surprise, he sealed his mouth over hers.
The bits of linen in her hand fell to the floor, and he kicked them out of the way as he drew his other arm around her and pulled her to him. For a moment, he feared she would not respond, that she had none of the things in mind that he had come to think about every second of the day, which was her, touching her, kissing her, holding her.
But then her mouth opened and her tongue met his. He didn't know how long they would have, but surely just a few minutes more would not be tempting fate.
He angled his head, deepening the kiss, and she came up on her toes, pressing her petite frame to his. His hand drifted lower, over the curve of her derrière, and he cupped her bottom, lifting her into the swollen ridge of his arousal to show her, This is what you do to me.
She did not shy away. Her slender arms came around his neck and she squeezed, pressing her body to his. He leaned back, his hips braced against the bed, but he did not fall back with her in his arms, not with his wound as delicate as she claimed it to be. But then he had a better idea.
Callen lifted her, just barely off her feet, and he spun them until her back was against the bed, and he bent her over until she was on her back with him leaning over her. Their mouths did not come apart, but his hands were no longer under her. He lifted her skirts to her knees, and he parted legs, stepping in between.
A bold move on his part, one that could end with her bolting from the room, but she didn't. Her hands were in his hair, her fingernails lightly scoring his scalp as he ravaged her mouth with kiss after kiss, and she returned each caress to him.
Luna kissed with abandon and learned very quickly. He lightly ran his hands up her stockings, not delicate silk but thicker cotton. Callen wanted to feel her skin under his hands and to do so, he'd have to venture further, but he must take his time or he might frighten her with his ardor.
Callen spent some time lightly stroking her calves, inching closer to her knees until at last, he reached the simple garter that held her stockings up. He slowly ran his hand up her thigh until his fingertips met heavenly soft skin.
She broke the kiss, arching her neck and panting. He studied her face as his hand crawled higher, his thumb brushing her inner thigh. Her legs trembled, but she did not deny him.
“I want to touch you,” he begged, his hand sliding higher toward the apex of her thighs, so she understood his intent.
She licked her lips and she nodded, her eyes opening the tiniest bit and meeting his. Their gazes held as he reached the downy curls of her womanhood, damp with her arousal.
Callen nearly groaned, dropping his gaze to her lips and then burying his face in her neck. He kissed the skin under her ear and made a trail of kisses over the curve of her neck to her collarbone. Her chest rose, her back arching as if an invitation. With his free hand, Callen cupped her breast through her bodice and gently squeezed. A small moan escaped her lips.
Between her thighs, he lightly stroked the cleft of her sex. Under him her thighs tensed but then opened wider as she accepted the caress, and her body asked for more. Callen found the little sensitive bud under the hood of her sex and lightly stroked it.
Luna's breath caught, and she gasped. Callen wanted nothing more than to feel her shatter beneath him, so he upped the stakes and tugged the edge of her bodice down, freeing her nipple, and took it into his mouth. She lifted her breast into his mouth, her hands holding him to her.
Between her thighs, he toyed with her sensitive bud until she was slick with need. He ran two of his fingers down the seam of her sex until he found the
entrance to her body. Callen gently probed the wet, petal-soft flesh, probing her with just the tip of his fingers.
Her thighs were open wide, her center soft and hot in invitation. Callen couldn't resist. He inserted one finger and her muscles clamped around him hungrily. Luna moaned softly and the sound ratcheted up his arousal to a painful degree. He was straining against his breeches. He would have to suffer in silence and take himself in hand after she left.
Callen freed her other breast from her gown and lavished her peachy pink nipple with his tongue until it furled into a tight bud in the cool air. He drew it into his mouth, soothing the tender skin with light strokes, warming it with the heat of his mouth until it softened again.
He inserted another finger inside her, feeling the stretch of her body, using the slick fluid of her arousal to massage her virgin flesh and ease his way deeper. He massaged the bud of her sex with his thumb. He used his fingers like he wanted to use his manhood and set a slow steady rhythm while he lightly swirled his thumb over her pearl.
Callen caught her lips again and her tongue thrust into his mouth, wild and hungry. She could no longer focus on the kiss, and her muscles clamped around his fingers as she broke the kiss, her breathing ragged. Her eyes clamped shut and her body trembled, the heels of her feet hooking around the back of his knees as her release claimed her, and Callen watched it all. The thrill of watching her climax drowned out his own painful needs. Her breathing evened out and she relaxed.
He drew his hand from her core but did not step away from her. He covered her breasts again with her bodice and brushed away the tendrils of hair that clung to her forehead. He kissed her lips one more time, and she opened her eyes, staring up at him in wonder.
“That was…” she whispered in awe.
“Magnificent," he said. “You are magnificent, Luna. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen is you reaching release. There is no sunrise or sunset to compare to you.”