Lynette Vinet

by Wild Eden Wicked

  ~~~

  Boxing Day, Marjorie’s wedding day, dawned with a slight misting rain. By noontime the weather had cleared and a bright golden sun shone through the gray clouds. “Ah, Miss Marjorie, you are fortunate,” Nonnie said, placing a cup of tea on Marjorie’s bureau. “Sunshine on one’s wedding day is a good omen.”

  “Yes, that’s what I’ve heard.” Marjorie sipped at the weakly brewed tea but could hardly swallow. Cold, fluttering sensations nested in the pit of her stomach. She wondered if she was going to be sick. Maybe if she became ill Jock would be forced to cancel the ceremony. But no. He’d never do that. Jock was too eager for her to marry Bert.

  Her fate had been decided for her, and she had no say in the matter. She wouldn’t balk, wouldn’t cry. Marjorie was used to obeying and couldn’t imagine not honoring her brother’s wishes. Any other prospects were nonexistent. Marrying Bert Carruthers was her one and only chance to have a home and family of her own. No longer would she be dependent upon Jock. After today, she’d be dependent upon Bert, but she wasn’t certain which was the lesser of the two evils.

  Seeing Nonnie caused her to blurt out, “How is Tiku?” before she’d realized she’d asked.

  “Oh, very well, Miss Marjorie. He’s going to help me serve your guests this afternoon.”

  “But … but he’s not one of our servants. And he shouldn’t be serving at my wedding, Nonnie. Tiku is an educated man.”

  “Still he is Maori,” Nonnie sternly reminded her. “Tiku must know his place.”

  Marjorie bit at her lower lip, unable to fathom Nonnie. The woman had given birth to a son who was part white, who had been educated in England by his father, yet she didn’t want anything better for him than to continue his life as a house servant. And what about Tiku? Didn’t he care about his future? He was destined for better things than working in a kitchen. Marjorie wanted to argue with Nonnie about her position, but she kept her own counsel.

  The clock on the mantel chimed two times. One more hour until she married Bert. One more hour until her fate was sealed.

  ~~~

  Marjorie’s wedding attracted more than its share of guests. By the time three o’clock came it seemed everyone in the Otago area had arrived for the festive occasion. At least that’s how it appeared to Eden when she glanced out of the upstairs window of her room shortly before Jock was to escort his sister downstairs. Swarms of people, many whom she recognized from town and Thunder Mine, milled about the grounds. Four long tables on the lawn nearly overflowed with food and drink, and there was more in the kitchen. Jaunty tunes drifted through the air, courtesy of three fiddlers who stood beneath the leaves of an ancient oak tree. Jock, as one of the wealthiest men in New Zealand and a member of Parliament, had spared no expense for his only sister’s wedding feast. Which was as it should be—Jock Sutherland had a reputation to protect.

  Eden took one last look at her reflection in the mirror. The gown she’d chosen, a dark-blue silk shot through with streaks of silver thread, shimmered like moonbeams in a dark heaven. The color accentuated her porcelain complexion and highlighted the reddish-gold tresses which tumbled down her back. Two sapphire combs pulled up the sides of her hair, and in her hands she carried a cluster of colorful summer flowers.

  “God but you’re beautiful.”

  Jock’s voice caused her to turn. He stood in the open doorway of her room, dressed in a black suit and a white lace shirt. Never had Eden seen him so handsome or been the object of such a hungry gaze. A not-unpleasant shiver slid down her spine to be so desired. She went to Jock and allowed him to kiss her with such savage force she moaned. Maybe she was finally putting Damon behind her.

  ~~~

  Amid the strains of the wedding tune, Jock led Marjorie to a rose-covered trellis and placed her hand in Bert’s. Marjorie’s paleness was disguised by the heat of the day, which coated her cheeks the same pink color as her gown. She made a comely bride, if not a beautiful one. But it was obvious to all who stood nearby as the Reverend Kent united them in marriage that the poor girl was very nervous. Her thin frame trembled and she could hardly repeat her vows. Bert, however, bellowed his for all to hear, and when they were pronounced husband and wife, he planted a loud, wet kiss upon his bride’s mouth.

  Eden reached for Marjorie, steadying her with a hand when Bert suddenly released her to accept congratulations from well-wishers. She seemed dazed by the event. In seconds she was swallowed by a sea of guests and Eden was pushed aside.

  Miranda Creig appeared at her elbow, dressed in a pretty gray gown with red stripes on the skirt. “Eden, dear, I’ve missed you,” she said, and kissed Eden’s cheek. “You must come for tea soon. Thunder Mine has been so different since you left.” Her expression grew serious. “Damon is different, too. He misses you, I know he does.”

  “I don’t want to hear about him,” she responded calmly, but her stomach somersaulted to hear his name. They spoke for a few minutes until Jock whisked Eden away to introduce her to the secretary-general and other members of Parliament who were his associates. It wasn’t until this moment, surrounded by these dignitaries and hearing the favorable comments they made to her concerning Jock, that Eden realized what immense power and influence Jock wielded.

  “Jock will be Governor Sutherland one day,” the secretary-general predicted to Eden. He’s an astute politician and a gentleman. Any woman lucky enough to marry him will be the envy of many a female. Most of the unmarried ladies in Wellington have set their sights for him, but Jock doesn’t want just any woman for a wife.” The man lowered his voice to whisper. “He told me he intends to marry you and is waiting for your answer. I advise you to accept,” he finished with a smile.

  Eden felt she was being rushed to make a decision. First Jock and now the secretary-general of New Zealand!

  The dancing started, and Jock claimed her for a waltz. He was a superb dancer, moving with skill and grace as he waltzed her across the lawn. Was there no end to Jock’s accomplishments? She knew she should feel flattered that he wanted to marry her. A great many envious female eyes were now following them. But for all Jock’s wealth and political influence and powerful friends, Eden didn’t love him. Was she leading him on by not refusing his proposal? Or was she doing herself a disservice by not accepting? She was growing more and more confused.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a brown-clad arm tap Jock politely on the back. “May I have a dance with Mrs. Flynn?”

  Eden froze and ended the dance, much to Jock’s annoyance. Jock spun around to face Damon, his hand tightening on Eden’s waist. “I doubt the lady wishes to dance with you, Alexander.”

  Damon grinned cockily. “I believe she does. “Eden…” He held out his arms to her, in a trance she entered them. Jock, not wanting to cause a disturbance, smiled falsely and moved out of the way.

  What’s wrong with me? she asked herself, unaware of anyone save Damon as he led her in the dance. She followed his every lead, twirling gracefully around the group of waltzers. She should have refused him, blatantly ignored him. He had hurt her terribly, humiliated her on a public street, and now the cad had the supreme gall to spirit her away from Jock. And she’d willingly gone!

  But each time he looked at her, her heart skipped a beat and she grew weak. How wonderful it felt to be in his arms again, even for a few minutes. She couldn’t stop staring at him, drinking in his face, memorizing every feature for those moments when she was alone. She was a fool, she knew. But her heart ruled her sanity.

  “I’ve missed you,” he murmured, his hand tightening around hers. “I’ve been sick with wanting you. Please come back to Castlegate with me.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “Very serious. I want you in my bed, Eden.”

  His words sent shivers of desire right to her very toes. She desperately wanted to be in his bed again, but he’d hurt her too much. And nothing had changed.

  “You want me only because Jock does,” she maintained.

  He le
aned toward her, his blue eyes filled with cold jealousy. “Has he had you yet?”

  “I won’t answer that impertinent question.”

  Damon smirked. “I knew it. He hasn’t.”

  “Oh! You’re so full of yourself, Damon Alexander, so sure you know everything—”

  “I know you, Eden, love. I know all of you.”

  A flush consumed her. He did know all of her. Damon knew her body more intimately than she did. He pulled her hard against him, causing her to lose step. “Come home with me tonight,” he insisted. “Wake up in my arms tomorrow. I know that’s what you want, I want you so much that I’m on fire, literally aching for you.”

  Eden couldn’t stand any more. If Damon continued in this fashion she was going to throw herself in his arms and forget how he’d treated her. She wanted a husband and respectability, and Damon couldn’t offer her that. “Leave me alone, Damon. Please don’t bother me again.” She pulled away from him at the same moment the music ended. “I can’t tolerate any more pain because of you.”

  “Eden, I don’t intend to hurt you. I want to love you—forever.”

  “A forever without marriage?” She shook her head, her eyes wide and filling with tears. “I can’t be your mistress.”

  “Then be my wife.”

  His voice sounded so low, so wantonly intimate that Eden thought she imagined the words. “Damon…”

  “Marry me.” He pulled her into his arms, and his words flowed over her like warm, thick honey. “I love you, Eden. I can’t live without you. Forgive me for how I’ve treated you, the cruel things I’ve said and done. I’ve never wanted a woman as much as you, I’ve never loved anyone as much as you.”

  “But Tessa. You loved her so.”

  His eyes blackened; there was a finality to his words. “Tessa is finally dead to me. You’re all that matters. I want to make you happy. Say you’ll marry me. Say it.”

  Her heart sprouted wings. Pure joy exploded within her. People stared at them, some with knowing smiles on their faces, others, like Jock, in condemnation. But Eden didn’t care. Damon was hers, if she wanted him. She had only to say the words.

  “Yes, I’ll marry you,” she softly whispered, not wanting anyone else to overhear. This was their moment, the moment in time when their life began. And no one would spoil it for them.

  Damon placed a tender kiss upon her lips. She felt herself opening to him, all of the desire she’d buried the past weeks resurrecting in an instant. “Come home with me, Eden. Leave with me now.”

  She nodded eagerly but told him she must speak to Marjorie first. And then Jock.

  Marjorie, like most of the people at the wedding, had observed Eden and Damon. Instead of the stern lecture Eden expected from her, Marjorie surprised her by embracing her. “You love Mr. Alexander very much. I see that now. Be happy.” She sniffed back her tears, gulping hard when Bert approached and grabbed her hand.

  “We better be heading home,” Bert said, a leer on his face. “The sun’s setting soon, and we have quite a bit to do before bedtime.”

  Eden noticed that Marjorie blanched but followed dutifully after her new husband. “There’s a match made in hell,” Damon commented.

  And hellish was the word to describe Jock Sutherland. From out of nowhere, he suddenly materialized beside Eden. His face was red, and his eyes burned with such hatred that Eden cringed. But his hatred wasn’t directed against her but against Damon. “So, Alexander, you think you’ve won.” His voice was deceptively smooth.

  “I’m here claiming the woman I love. I consider myself to be a lucky man for Eden to still want me.”

  “So you should.”

  “Jock…” Eden began, her mouth suddenly dry. “Be happy for us. We’re going to be married.”

  “Really? Damon’s going to do the honorable thing and marry you. Is that what you believe?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “If that’s what you wish to believe, Eden, then I won’t be the one to disillusion you. Congratulations to you both.”

  Jock rushed off, leaving them holding on to each other, fearful to let go. Concern shone in Eden’s eyes when she looked up at Damon. “Jock can’t do anything to hurt us, can he?”

  “No, my love, he can’t.” He squeezed her reassuringly. “Now let’s get your bag packed and get you away from here. Castlegate is waiting for us.”

  ~~~

  Eden sat beside Damon on the front seat of the buggy. Overhead, huge, glittering stars gleamed and lighted their way along the road. It was a perfect night, and Eden was content. Damon held the reins in one hand and held Eden beside him with his other arm. Her head was nestled on his chest and she caught the wonderful musty male scent of him. She lifted her lips to his neck and kissed him.

  “Better be careful, woman,” he groused good-naturedly. “Castlegate is still a distance away. Keep on teasing me like that and I might be tempted to ravish you in the forest.”

  “Do you mean that?”

  He smiled down at her, believing her to be joking, but something wild and burning in her eyes told him she wasn’t. “Take me into the forest, Damon.”

  And that’s exactly what he did, finding a small trail off the main road. The buggy rolled over deep ruts, heading deeper and deeper into the greenish-black wildwood. When the buggy couldn’t go any farther, Damon took her hand and led her into an untamed paradise.

  The silence surprised her. Nothing stirred. It was as if the wildlife had been duly warned of their approach and wished to give them this time alone. They entered a primeval world that belonged only to them.

  Suddenly Eden heard the sound of water. She gasped with pleasure when they stopped beside a cliff where a waterfall cascaded into a clear, bubbling pool. “This is beautiful!” she said, her eyes twinkling with delight.

  “You’re beautiful,” he told her. “So very beautiful that I want to make love to you now.”

  “Oh, yes, Damon, now.” She moved to touch him, but he shook his head. Instead, he undressed while she watched. Her heart sounded like a hammer in her ears and her pulses raced. Her fingers ached to caress his superbly made body.

  But his fingers found her first. They began unbuttoning the back of her gown, sensuously sliding down her warm flesh. When her gown lay in a blue puddle at her feet, his hands stripped away her chemise and underclothes. Standing before him in only her stockings and satin dancing shoes, she should have felt embarrassed. But she didn’t. He laid her upon his jacket and lifted one of her legs. His hand caressed her foot as he took off her shoe, and then ever so slowly he peeled away her stockings. By the time he’d gotten to her other leg, Eden was moaning and writhing.

  “Love me,” she urged.

  Damon, it seemed, had other ideas. “All in good time, my love. First I want to look at you, to make certain you’re not a dream. I couldn’t bear it if you weren’t real.”

  To prove she was flesh and blood, he began touching her breasts, kneading them with the palms of his hands, then replacing his hands with his mouth. His tongue lapped at her nipples, swirling around and teasing the buds before his mouth engulfed each of her breasts in turn, sucking until the raw heat of desire devoured her.

  “Damon, please,” she begged, unable to stand any more. She wanted him with a fierceness which left her panting.

  “Not yet, Eden. Lie still and stop wriggling. I need to taste all of you.” She knew what that meant, and she moaned aloud.

  His lips skimmed over her taut stomach to swirl across her abdomen and end at his destination. Gently he parted her legs. His breath, warm and moist, fanned over her. And then she felt his tongue, determined to claim the very essence of her. Her hands tangled in his hair, urging him on with her mewls of pleasure.

  Beneath the canopy of glittering stars, Eden soared to the dark heavens and exploded into a thousand gleaming pieces. When she came blissfully back to earth, Damon was over her, sliding inside her. With each thrust, the burning embers sizzled and sparked anew.

  She wrapped her
legs around him and arched toward him, meeting each strong thrust with abandon. His lips found hers, drowning her blissful moans with a rapacious kiss that branded her as his own. Then Damon grew still, holding himself erect inside her. She made a mewling sound of protest. “Not yet, not yet,” he raggedly whispered, stalling his movements to increase the pleasure. But Eden was wild, her body craving satisfaction and knowing how to give it. Somehow she knew to contract the muscles which enveloped him like a glove. Damon’s eyes widened, taken aback by what Eden was doing to him, but he gave only half-hearted protest. “You’re a wanton witch, you know that,” he said to her, nibbling the lobe of her ear.

  “I’m what you’ve made of me,” she confessed, and continued her mind-drugging torture. Soon their moans echoed as one. Their ecstasy peaked when Damon drove into her with a powerful thrust which took her breath from her. Damon shuddered and groaned at the same instant Eden’s body exploded.

  Damon wrapped his arms around her and they both lay bathed in starlight. “Damon?” There was a hesitancy in Eden’s voice when he felt her stir some minutes later. “Did you mean what you said—about marrying me?”

  “Aye.”

  “What happened to change your mind?”

  “My love for you.”

  She snuggled against him and kissed his chest. “I love you, too. I’ll always love you.”

  “I’m counting on that.”

  Damon stood up and pulled her to her feet. “Want a bath?” he asked, his gaze sliding to the lagoon before coming to settle again on her face.

  A seductive giggle escaped her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she clung to him. “You know perfectly well it’s not a bath you’re needing, you wayward son of an Irishman. You just want to get me in the water and have your wicked way with me again.”

  “Oh, so you’re protesting then?”

  “Never that, Damon.” The teasing play left her eyes and a wicked glow shone brightly within them. “I’m yours whenever you want me.”