by Carol Rose
"I need you, El, more than anyone or anything."
"Yes," she gasped, lost in the glory of his body against hers.
Stroking her bare hip, Cole held her firmly as he moved his body against hers in an age-old rhythm, an invitation she assented to with her body. Elinor writhed against him, clinging to his shoulders.
He smoothed his hand down her thigh, shifting his attention to her breasts. His gaze lingered on her peaking nipples with relish.
The throbbing ache low in her body increased as her nipples tightened beneath his glance. Slowly, almost reverently, Cole reached out to cup her breasts. His thumb traced her, sending tingles dancing along her skin. Caressing her breasts, he cupped her.
Elinor vibrated with hunger, the sizzle of desire coursing through her. Flinching with ecstasy, she held herself steady as he bent to nuzzle her breast.
Stretched out beneath him, her body arched as he kissed and suckled each throbbing peak, her fingers clenching on his shoulders. He drew her into his mouth, again and again, as if starving for her.
Writhing with the fire that seared through her body, Elinor pulled Cole's mouth up for her kiss. Slowly, she rubbed her peaked breasts against his chest. His body flinched at the first contact, vibrating as tautly as a high-tension wire.
He groaned, his arms coming around to hold her as she brushed against him, her breasts jiggling with each movement. After a moment, he stilled her, his breath coming raggedly through his mouth.
Reaching for her, his mouth came down on hers with urgency as his hands caressed her bare flesh. She rose up, pressing herself against him with abandon. Her bare body felt flushed with desire, heated even in the cool night air.
She felt as if the naked, muscular length of him was imprinted on her, a permanent marking of the heart. Her hands glided over Cole's tight buttocks as he stroked her body.
He caressed her belly, trailing lower to brush softly at the triangle between her thighs. Her head fell back, absorbed in sensation as he stroked her sensitive flesh, his damp mouth suckling her breast.
As if by instinct, her hand found him, his silken flesh burning hot and hard beneath her fingers. She stroked the length of him, feeling the unleashing of her uncivilized self as he surged beneath her touch.
He gasped and then stopped her caresses with a muttered word. Bending to the floor, Cole searched in his trouser pocket. In a minute he was again kneeling above her, preparing himself. As he tossed the foil packet aside, Elinor drew him down, exulting in the weight of his body on hers. He braced himself above her, positioned between her knees, and then she felt his thrust.
He slid into her like the coming of angels, sending delight shuddering through her flesh. Elinor welcomed him, enfolding his body with her own, meeting each stroke with the urgency of her own passion. He entered her like a gift, and she gave everything back.
They moved together in mounting urgency, the sweetly scented bedcoverings crushed beneath them. Surrounded by the wind and consumed by the fire between them, they mated.
It felt eternal. Enduring and infinite. As if he were the rest of her, some part she left behind before birth.
The stroke of flesh against flesh, unaffected by barriers. A delicate magic that started in wonder, blossomed into incredulity, and finally spilled over her in astonishing waves. She trembled beneath him, holding on to him, the only solid thing on earth. Above her, he stiffened, finding his own release with shuddering gasps.
Elinor nestled in his arms seconds later, the thud of her heart still in her ears. Need and fulfillment ebbed and flowed within her like an ancient ocean as the racing of her body slowed and, slowly, her brain clicked back into gear.
She’d heard it said that we regret most the risks we don't take. If that was so, making love to Cole was her ticket to a lifetime free of regret. She'd thrown herself into the moment knowing full well that there were no guarantees. But she couldn't find it in herself to regret their tempestuous loving.
There would never be another man like Cole in her life.
"Elinor?"
"Hmmm." Lost in fascinated discovery, she allowed the fingers of her hand to coast over the planes of his chest.
"Will you marry me?"
Elinor's hand stopped. "Ummm. What did you say?"
He rolled over on the bed to face her, his eyes dark and serious. "You heard me."
She wanted to treat it flippantly, to toss the frightening, earth-shaking question back into his lap like a hot potato. But the look on his face sabotaged her.
"El, when I said you were more precious to me than treasure, it wasn't just pillow talk."
Struggling to sit up on the antique bed, Elinor crossed her arms to warm herself against the suddenly-chilled air. "I hate to sound girlish, but isn't this rather sudden?"
"I've never allowed myself to be restricted by convention," he said, making no move to recapture her in his arms. "Is there an official procedure to proposing to a woman?"
"Yes," Elinor snapped, distracted by his lean naked body stretched out next to her. "Don't mention it for the first time right after sex. It's like you've just taken a test drive and you decided the car suits you."
Cole stared at her for an astonished second and then gave a loud masculine shout of laughter. Bouncing up on the bed, he swept her into his arms, deep chuckles still shaking his body.
"Why, Miss El, what model do you envision yourself as?" He slid a broad hand over her hip, lingering on her thigh. "I'd be tempted to guess the compact model if you weren't so well equipped."
"Cole!" She tried to grab for his wandering hands. "Be serious about this."
"Honey," he said, taking her chin in his hand as he smiled down into her face, "I have never been more serious in my life. Business teaches us not to make frivolous offers."
"I think you've lost your mind" Elinor muttered extricating herself from his hold. Rolling over, she perched on the edge of the tall bed with her feet over the side.
Cole was off the bed in a flash, coming around to stand in front of her. "What's the matter, El? It's a simple question. Men have been asking women for thousands of years."
With his warm hands resting on her shoulders as he stood there, she felt peculiarly comforted. Peculiar because he was the sole source of her discomfort.
His money. The thought flashed through her mind as she looked into his face. If it weren't for his money and his determination to gain more of it, he would be your fantasy man.
"I could" he whispered stroking down her arms, "persuade you."
"Cole." Her voice shook. "I can't think when you ..."
Ignoring her plea, he knelt on the bed steps in front of her, his mouth nuzzling her breast. She shuddered as his teeth grazed the sensitive peak.
"Do you know how many rooms there are in this house, El?" Cole traced a finger along the inside of her thigh. "Shall we christen them all tonight?"
"If we're going to talk seriously," Elinor began, her words slurring as his hand crept higher.
"Yes?" he prompted before nipping at her shoulder.
"You're going to have to stop that!" she finished in a rush as he buried his face against her breasts.
Cole reached around, cupping her buttocks in his hands. "I can't stop."
"Don't give me that!" she cried in frustrated exasperation, fully aware of her body's state of flushed arousal.
"You mean this?" He thrust into her gently, his invasion sending rivers of pleasure through her as she encased him.
"Oh!" Elinor wrapped her legs around his hips, locking her feet.
"Oh, yes," Cole growled, his arms tightening around her as they moved together.
~~~********~~~
Eight
Elinor rolled over, burrowing beneath the scented sheets in a futile effort to escape the afternoon sunlight.
Afternoon?
Consciousness returned to her slowly, each piece of information presenting itself in turn as she oriented herself. She was naked in Grandmother Prescott's bed, and she wasn't alo
ne.
Peeping open one eye, she confirmed her suspicions. She was indeed in the ornately carved antique bed, wrapped in cool, downy cotton sheets. Cole lay next to her, snoring with one arm sprawled over her back. Above them stretched a heavy brocade canopy that matched the unwieldy coverlet she recalled Cole throwing to the floor in the night.
Elinor closed her eyes, sensation spilling through her body as memory returned. They hadn't christened every room in the house last night, but it wasn't for a lack of effort. Her body ached in a delicious, hedonistic way and she couldn't help stretching like a contented cat.
"Don't you know better than to disturb a man's rest when it's only four in the afternoon?" Cole rolled over, reaching out to cuddle her close. His eyes were incredibly blue beneath the sexy tumble of his blond hair. Even his stubbly chin looked erotic.
"If you didn't keep a woman up until sunrise with your lustful desires, you wouldn't still be asleep at four in the afternoon."
"True," he acceded. "I'm ashamed of myself."
Elinor frowned. "You are?"
"Yes, ma'am. I've never done anything like that before in my life. I can't imagine what got into me." He gazed at her with a soulful expression. "Can you ever forgive me for pressing my attentions on you?"
"Is that what you were pressing on me?" Elinor retorted.
"Among other things," Cole agreed, his deep, appreciative laughter filling the room.
She sat up, a thought hitting her as she tugged the sheet up to cover her breasts. "Say, 1 haven't had the chance to ask how the heck you got into my car that day."
He cocked a questioning eyebrow at her. "Car?"
"Yes, if I hadn't guessed it was you from the rose you left, the plant safety reports would have given you away."
"Oh! The safety reports," he said, giving a good impression of just realizing what she was referring to. "Did you enjoy reading them?"
Elinor swatted him with her pillow. "They're horrendous to read, but I did manage to get the gist of it."
"I thought you'd appreciate the gift." He clasped his hands behind his neck, the full glory of his nakedness becoming more evident as his side of the sheet slid lower.
"What I want to know is how you got them in a locked car," she repeated.
Cole's grin turned sly. "I told you before that I am a man of many talents."
"Such as breaking into other people's cars?"
"If necessary," he said grandly. "I can also break into my own."
"That must come in handy," Elinor commented wryly as she scooted back down in the bed.
Rolling toward her, Cole brushed back the tumbled curls at her temple. "Miss Elinor, would you be my date for a small dinner party this evening at the mayor's house?"
"What?" Sometimes the man changed subjects so fast she got mental whiplash trying to follow him.
"A small dinner party at the Stephenses'," he repeated.
"Small?" Elinor hesitated. Susan Stephens felt she shone in social situations. It was hard to imagine her scaling an event down.
"So they told me." Cole's kiss whispered along her temple.
An image flashed in Elinor's mind. Beautiful, sophisticated Norell smiling into Cole's face as they danced. Was Norell in love with Cole or interested in him for his money?
He had said he wasn't interested in Norell, but observation told Elinor that Norell had more than a passing interest in him.
Cole drew her into his arms, the hard planes of his body warm against her naked skin. "Say you'll come, El."
The Stephens occupied a one-and-a-half-story house that had been built ten years before Oakleigh. Elinor knew this since Susan Stephens managed to drop the fact into a conversation whenever possible. It apparently rankled the older woman that her husband's family home hadn't been built in the same imposing style as Oakleigh.
Still, she mused as Cole parked the car that evening, the Stephens's smaller house gleamed with a polished sheen that had escaped Oakleigh decades before.
Could the Stephenses be seeking to buy Oakleigh through the anonymous offer? The possibility had crossed her mind before and left her unsettled. It was petty, but the thought of Susan queening over Elinor's ancestral home seemed intolerable.
Looking around as Cole pulled up at the curb, a tang of foreboding hit Elinor. Cars packed the paved drive, overflowing to clog the street.
She might not have had a close relationship with her grandfather, but it seemed disrespectful to be seen at a huge bash within days of his death. "This is a small dinner party?"
Cole turned off the car's engine and turned toward her. "Apparently not," he said. "Would you rather skip it?"
"You've already accepted the invitation, haven't you?" Elinor hesitated.
"Yes." He shrugged as if manners were easily dismissed in this situation.
"Then I guess we'd better go in," she said with resignation. "We wouldn't want to disappoint your public."
As they walked to the door hand in hand Elinor reflected that she was glad she'd decided to dress to the max. Even a small dinner party with Susan at the helm required formal attire. In her snug black dress with rhinestones at her ears, she felt ready to mingle with the best of them.
Cole rang the bell. As they stood waiting, he pulled her close, his hands caressing her bare arms.
"You know," he murmured "I would be really happy to blow this party thing. I'm sure we can find more interesting things to do."
Elinor was sure of that, too. But before she could take him up on the offer, an impassive white-coated servant opened the door.
Revelers packed the Stephens's chicly decorated front room, a hum of chatter rising with the cigarette smoke that lingered above the group. Lights glittered off sequins everywhere as formally attired caterers slipped through the throng with trays held aloft.
Susan met them as they walked through the small, elegantly lit entry hall. "Elinor!" The older woman wore a look of exaggerated surprise. "Why, honey, if I'd known you'd feel up to a party so soon after Daniel's death, I would have invited you."
"How considerate of you," Elinor returned with what she hoped was a barbed smile. The old biddy had to have planned this soiree weeks ago, long before Daniel died.
Susan slipped her arm through Cole's. "How nice of Cole to look after you like this. He's such a kind-hearted boy."
He disentangled himself from Susan with a charming smile. "Kindness should always be this easy."
"Oh." Susan's artificial gaiety slipped for a moment as she met his steady gaze. "Well, I'm so glad you both could come." Recovering her composure, she urged them toward the group in the salon. "Come on in! I planned this little buffet just for you, Cole." She leaned toward him, dropping her voice conspiratorially. "I knew it would help in your business if you met all the finest families in the parish."
"How kind of you, Susan," Cole remarked, tongue in cheek, as they entered the crowded room.
Susan was definitely planning on gaining a prosperous son-in-law. Elinor realized with a flash of insight. The woman would be livid if she knew that the man she was so openly courting had only hours before proposed to Elinor.
The thought warmed Elinor as they moved through the crowd. She might not be able to see herself married to a millionaire, but it was nice to be asked.
The crowded room contained many people Elinor knew, some of whom were her clients. Separated from Cole early on, she mingled, chatting with acquaintances and occasionally accepting condolences on the loss of her grandfather. To her relief, no one seemed the least shocked to see her there.
"Miss Prescott!" a well-preserved matron called out, snaring her attention.
"Why, hello, Mrs. Wilmington. How are you?"
The immaculately coiffed woman smiled at Elinor warmly. "I'm fine, my dear. You look so lovely tonight."
"Thank you."
"I just wanted to grab you for a moment to chat about the Peach Festival." Mrs. Wilmington drew her inexorably aside. "You did promise Daisy that you'd help with a booth, didn't you?"<
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"Yes, ma'am. I did."
"Wonderful. We want you for our Ladies' Guild booth. We're selling homemade peach ice cream again. And this year I've found some darling little outfits for the volunteers to wear."
"Outfits?" Elinor echoed hesitantly.
"Yes," the older woman said firmly. "Milkmaid outfits. I've purchased them myself. You'll look precious in one."
"Oh, good," she forced herself to say. "I'm always glad to help out the Ladies' Guild." Surely, she could tolerate a few hours in a milkmaid's outfit for charity.
"Wonderful." Mrs. Wilmington beamed and patted Elinor's hand. "You must excuse me, dear. I need to speak with Charlotte Bixby."
Elinor couldn't help smiling as the determined do-gooder bore down on another victim. Charlotte didn't stand a chance.
The room had grown warm with the heat of so many people, and Elinor decided to seek out a drink at the bar the caterers had set up in the back of the room. A press of people crowded around the bar. She placed her order with the harried bartender and stood back to wait.
"Congratulations," a sultry voice said.
Elinor swung around, surprised to find Norell at her side. "I beg your pardon?"
The dark-haired woman, looking gorgeous in a form-fitting red dress, smiled at her. "I said, 'congratulations.' You've bagged yourself quite a man."
"Miss?" the bartender barked.
Grateful for the distraction, Elinor took the glass he held out to her. She sipped at her drink while Norell leaned forward, giving the bartender an eyeful of cleavage as she sweetly requested a martini.
Her order placed, Norell turned to Elinor again. She smiled ruefully. "Good luck on keeping him. But Cole's not a man who's easily snared."
"No?" Her throat still felt dry despite the gulp of white wine. She could just imagine how Norell had tried to snare Cole. The thought left her fingers curling into claws.