“Ryder, you don’t understand. There are reasons, problems, risks, real dangers.”
“The only danger I face is losing you. I’m willing to take the risks.”
“Don’t say that. You have no idea what might happen.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea what might happen.”
He moved closer, and his warm, naked flesh brushed against her arm. She closed her eyes when his hands tucked around her face and forced her head up. He pressed against her, trapping her against the door. When his mouth covered hers, she had a moment of suffocating panic and tensed, but his gentle kiss allowed her time to think, to accept, to want. Ryder Kendall’s mouth was magical.
She struggled to keep her arms to her sides. Everything within her wanted to touch him. Finally she clutched at her nightdress to keep her hands still, but she returned his kiss because she couldn’t help herself. When her lips parted, his kiss became greedy and demanding, forcing her head up, his tongue pushing into her mouth with a speed that took her breath away. But he didn’t move his hands. They stayed around her face, holding her mouth to his. He finally drew away slowly, his lips pulling at hers for one last taste.
A whimper escaped her parted lips. She was filled with an unfathomable need to pull him back. His hard body caused hers to turn soft. She wanted to cuddle against him and let him do anything he wanted. She wanted everything he had threatened and promised. Her hand skimmed across the tight muscles of his waist, and they clenched under her fingers. He peered through the slit of darkness between them and found her eyes.
He slid his thumb across her lips, and she shocked herself by wrapping her lips around it. When she sucked on it, he laughed softly.
“Is that what you came in here for?” he asked.
“No, I came to tell you I’m not worth the price you’ll have to pay.”
“Oh, you’re wrong about that.” His finger continued to trace across her lips. “You’re worth every penny. Stephen knew it. I know it.”
“There are prices beyond your understanding. I can’t let you do this.”
Ryder dropped his arms and moved away. “Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Both.”
“I think you’ve forgotten once again who’s in charge here, Arleigh. My farm, my assets, my decisions.” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “I found your indenture papers by the way. Stephen stuffed them into a pair of old boots in the bottom of his trunk. I have proof now that you belong to me. You’re a valuable piece of property, and I’m not willing to let you go. I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” she asked.
“Both.”
“You’ll be sorry, Ryder. ’Tis a bad decision.”
Ryder laughed. “No worse than the one that brought me here in the first place.”
He moved toward the bed. Arleigh lost his shadow in the darkness. She heard the snap of the quilt and the groaning of the bed.
“Are you coming?” he asked.
“Wh-What?”
“Get your ass over here and get in bed. It’s what you came for, isn’t it? If you’re ready for the time of your life, the invitation is still open.”
“No! ’Tis not what I came for at all. I ne’er intended—”
“At least be honest with me and with yourself. You’re standing in a man’s bedroom in the middle of the night, dressed in a charming little rag. And that kiss made it pretty obvious you’re trying to get into my bed. You don’t have to ask. I’m inviting you again. It seems to be a bad habit with me. Come here.”
He patted his hand against the mattress.
“No, you’re wrong. How can you think…you’re wicked, Ryder Kendall. And you’re stupid. You’re a stupid, stupid man!”
She clutched at the latch, and the door spilled open. When she slammed it behind her, his laughter drifted through the hard wood. She screamed into the quiet of the keeping room and stomped off to the attic staircase. She could still hear him howling in the other room.
* * * *
The next morning, he still laughed at her. He watched her as she cooked, his lips curled in a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. She wanted to smack that smug look off his face and pummel him for using her discomfort for his own entertainment.
When she put his breakfast plate down in front of him, his hand caught her wrist and pulled her across his lap. She struggled for a moment but realized Ryder Kendall was the type of man who always got his own way. And he did whatever he wanted to do. How she felt about any of it didn’t matter to him.
His hand slid around the back of her neck and tugged her forward. So warm, so firm, so irresistible. When his mouth neared hers, her lips parted, waiting for his kiss, but he surprised her. He licked her bottom lip, a sinuous caress of his tongue that swept across her skin and dipped into her mouth for one excruciating second. Arleigh groaned, and her body liquefied.
“Do you want to kiss me good morning?” he asked.
“No. Do you want to kiss me?”
“With every molecule in my body,” he said.
His words meant nothing to her, but it didn’t matter because she understood what he meant. His cock pressed against her bottom, growing harder, stretching, eagerly rising under the thin breeches. One of his hands lay behind her neck and the other trailed up her body and curled around the side of her breast. His face buried into her hair.
“You wanted to stay with me last night,” he said.
She refused to answer. She didn’t want to lie. There were enough lies between them.
“You wanted me to fuck you. I could feel it.”
His mouth felt heavenly against her ear. His lips were warm, and the soft breath of his voice seemed so seductive, so natural, whispering to her. She closed her eyes, glad she did not have to look into his.
“I wanted to do it,” he said.
His tongue circled her ear, and it made her want to squirm on his lap, but she kept still. Instead, she tipped her head back. His lips roamed down her throat.
“Why didn’t you, then?” she asked.
“Because I’m waiting for you,” he said.
“What do you expect me to do?”
His fingers clutched her skirt, pulling it up, reaching underneath to touch her thigh. His warm palm slid up between her legs.
“I’m expecting you to ask me,” he said.
“’Tis not something I can do.”
She felt hot, itchy, aroused. She’d been feeling this way for days. His tongue traced a trail of fire back to her ear.
“You want to ask me, though, don’t you, Arleigh?”
“Aye,” she said softly.
“Tell me how much you want me. I want to hear it.”
She squeezed her lips closed, but she couldn’t help herself. His hand moved higher on her leg and slipped against her pussy. She arched into his palm.
“Tell me,” he insisted. He turned her face toward him.
She couldn’t answer. She raked her hands through his hair and dragged his mouth to hers. If he kissed her, he couldn’t talk; he couldn’t badger her with questions; he couldn’t force her to admit things she couldn’t possibly admit. He accepted her kiss and seemed to enjoy it, but that didn’t stop him. When he pulled away, he continued his relentless quest to make her pay.
“Tell me how much you want me.”
She wanted to simply melt in his arms and allow him to do whatever he wanted to any part of her body he chose. She especially wanted his hand between her legs again. Finally in desperation, she grabbed his face, captured his mouth, and whispered against his lips.
“I want you to fuck me, Master Kendall. I want it more than anything I’ve e’er wanted in my life. My body is screaming for yours. My breasts hurt. My insides are quaking. I ache and throb and my pussy is swollen with the need to be filled by you. If this were my last moment on earth, all I would ask for is the taste of your mouth and the feel of your body in mine.”
His mouth fell on hers. His lips devoured hers until her mouth felt bruised. She
pulled her mouth away, gasping, trying to get her breath back to tell him what she had to say.
She caught his face between her hands. “Look at me, Kendall. I want all of that. I want our bodies to be one. I want it so much I hurt. But there are consequences. If it was your last moment on earth, I would beg you to take me. But ’tis not your last moment on earth, and I will not be responsible for making it so.”
She pushed his arms away with shaking hands. She stood up, and his hands trailed down her body. She covered her mouth with trembling fingers.
“I’m sorry, Ryder.”
“Not as sorry as I am.”
She ran from the cottage, leaving him to his cold breakfast.
Chapter 16
Ryder stepped out into the evening. The sun dropped behind the forest. He headed toward the river. He could not believe the way the water sparkled. The James was as beautiful, clear and unspoiled as he’d imagined in his mind a thousand times. The center rolled with a turbulent purpose, lapping against the pristine bank overgrown with a riot of vegetation. Other than the small dock in the cove, no boats, no pylons, no moorings cluttered its shore. There were no houses, no lights, no people enjoying games and barbecues in backyards that did not exist in this place. The river offered complete solitude and isolation. Perfection. He thought he could possibly live here forever.
Arleigh had avoided him most of the day. He had approached her several times, but she kept finding excuses to get away from him, trying to look busy. He had no idea what her usual day entailed, but she never seemed to accomplish much. He watched her doing laundry for a few minutes, but it was almost painful the way she labored over such a task. He had a desire to push her aside and do it himself, but he’d be damned if he’d do her work for her. Let her struggle.
So he took off and left her at the cottage. He still thought he should go into Jamestown and find Flynn, but Arleigh flew into a panic when he broached the subject. She teetered on the edge of a nervous breakdown. He didn’t want to be the cause of her complete meltdown. The physical struggle between them took its toll on both of them. He had a perpetual ache in his balls, and Ryder thought he could hear the erratic beat of her heart when she neared.
He spent the day with the indentures, four men of varying ages, who all seemed content with their lives. Stephen had treated them well, and they worked hard for him. They informed him two had taken advantage of the situation to flee, and their whereabouts were unknown, but the four that remained had a loyalty to the Caindale family. They assured Ryder they were willing to work for him or for Stephen’s daughters. The little girls had a fan club.
They showed him around the property, pointing out various fields and the crops planted there. They knew a great deal about farming, and Ryder thought to leave the day-to-day operation in their capable hands. He kept his own garden at home but purely for aesthetic purposes. He had no idea how it stayed alive and growing. He needed the help of these men. One of them seemed particularly knowledgeable. Ryder tried to give Jack Kensington a field promotion, but a frown creased Kensington’s ugly face, and he held up his hands.
“Nay, Master Kendall. Not me. I pay attention to all, but I be the smithy. ’Tis Philip Keegan ya want to be yer man. A farmer born and bred.”
He took Kensington at his word and promoted the quiet Keegan to foreman instead. Keegan, a tall, skinny man, beamed with the honor, and he informed Ryder all would be ready for winter within the next few weeks.
A winter in 17th century America? Ryder didn’t know if he was tough enough to do that. A winter without central heating? Without trips to the grocery store? Trapped in a cottage without the diversions of books, television, music? How could he prepare for an entire winter filled with unknowns? And how did he prepare to be confined with three children, a swarm of faeries, and a woman like Arleigh? He would be insane before the first snow fell. The children and the faeries were probably tolerable. But Arleigh? They would either kill each other or, if luck held and eventually he got his way, never come out of the bedroom.
He smiled at the thought. The cold hadn’t hit yet, but Kensington had predicted it would in another few weeks. Jack Kensington seemed to be a man in the know. And Jack had told him Arleigh was special and what a lucky man Ryder was.
“Have ya seen the way she looks at ya, laddie?” Jack had asked.
“You mean the look that wants me dead?”
Jack laughed and winked. “Nay, lad, the other look.”
“Sure. I’ve seen it, but it doesn’t last long.”
“She’ll come round, Master Kendall. Give her time. Stephen was ne’er the one for her. A good man, an honest man, but not man enough for Arleigh Donovan. She’s been bidin’ her time on Trinity, waitin’ for you.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Don’t think it,” Jack said. “I know it. Feel it. Been watchin’ her. Been watchin’ you. Only you can stop it.”
“Stop what?” Ryder asked.
“You’ll be findin’ that out soon enough,” Jack said. “Be ready.”
He had continued to press Kensington, but the man only grew more cryptic and frustrating. Ready for what? The inevitable explosion each time he talked to her? The turbulent emotions that poured from her each time he touched her? No amount of preparation seemed enough when dealing with a woman like Arleigh.
She barreled toward him now, her cloak flapping around her shoulders in the steady breeze that blew in from the west, pissed off as usual. Where did the woman get her arrogance? He owned her, for Christ’s sake, and yet she treated him like a husband who forgot to pick up his dirty socks or wet towels. What would it be like to be married to this little spitfire? The answer to that was easy: a living hell. She stopped in front of him, eyes blazing, hands on hips.
“Were you talking with Jack Kensington about me?” she snapped.
“It’s my island, Arleigh. They’re my men. I can talk about what I like.”
“I don’t want you discussing me.”
“Afraid I’ll discover some of your secrets?”
“Aye! No!” She shook her head in frustration. “Don’t talk about me. Should I not have some privacy?”
“No. If I’m going to be stuck here with you, I need to know everything about you. For my safety.”
She sputtered. “If anyone should be concerned about safety, ’tis me. You can’t keep your bloody hands off me.”
“You like my hands.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he put his fingers over her mouth. “Don’t bother denying it. You said it earlier. What were your words again?”
“Ne’er mind my words. You make me say things I can’t believe are falling out of my mouth. But you have no reason to be concerned with your safety.”
“You’re a self-confessed killer. The fact that the man is still alive causes some confusion, but you’re here for a reason, even if you won’t tell me. I’m still leaning toward the—”
“Stop making up bloody stories about me.”
“I don’t know if I can trust you. Are you ready for another battle of wills between us? You won the last round, but I’m feeling lucky tonight.”
He reached out and caught her hand. When he tugged, she spilled across the distance between them and fell into his arms. She struggled, pushing at his chest.
“This is a bad habit with you, Kendall. Why are you always grabbing at me? Don’t you realize I don’t want your advances?”
“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”
Arleigh gasped. “You know Shakespeare?”
Ryder tightened his arms around her. “You are becoming more intriguing by the moment, Mistress Donovan. And no matter what you say, you do want my advances. I have it on good authority.”
“Your own delusional mind?”
“No, Jack Kensington. He seems to know a lot about this island and what’s been happening around here.” When she started to protest, he kissed her quickly. “But I want to hear it from you. You have too many secrets. Let’s get some of them out
into the open.”
He released her and searched for her hand tucked in the folds of her cloak. She didn’t pull away, and he relished the warm feel of her skin in the crisp autumn air. He began to walk along the bank of the river, and she came with him willingly.
“You gave Flynn some kind of title the other day. What did you call him?”
“The Ganconor.”
“So what is that?” Ryder asked.
“Another kind of faery.”
The laughter shot out of him before he could stop it.
He swung her around to face him. Her lips were tight, her eyes solemn. Dead serious. Okay, so he’d seen some faeries. He still had some trouble with that, but the lights in the cottage and the darting little creatures had convinced him they were probably real, or he suffered from some dementia he refused to consider. Thinking about faeries was easier, but no way in hell could Cameron Flynn be a faery.
“How is that possible? He’s very masculine. Besides, he’s kidnapped three little girls, and he’s very physical. Can you have sex with a faery?”
“Oh, aye,” Arleigh breathed.
“That sounds a little kinky, especially after what I’ve seen. Those little creatures are like tiny children. So innocent.”
“They wouldn’t know the meaning of that word. Faeries just are. They know no right or wrong. They have no motivations for anything they do other than their own existence. They can be charming. They can be dangerous. They can perform good deeds and harbor great malice.”
“You know a lot about faeries,” he said.
“Too much.”
“So Flynn’s a faery, huh? Can’t do much for his ego. No wonder he’s such a prick. But Flynn hides his handicap well. No one would ever know what he is. He’s a good-looking bastard.”
“He is very beautiful on the outside. I thought him the most beautiful man in my memory,” she twisted her face toward the river, “until I met you.”
Ryder pulled at her hand, and she turned around to face him, her soft body colliding with his. She tipped her face toward him, and her hood fell back. He smiled.
Carlton, Amber - Trinity Magic (Siren Publishing Romance) Page 17