by Kimberly Nee
His lips moved down, along her neck, into the valley between her breasts. She breathed a throaty sigh, her fingers slipping through his silky hair as he inched along. His lips tickled her belly, sweeping down over one hipbone, caressing one thigh. His teeth were gentle, nipping at the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. Her blood rushed through her veins, pounding in her ears as he crept up. A sudden gasp erupted, her fingers twisting in his hair as his tongue—
Heated embarrassment burned through her. She never imagined any man ever doing what Drew was doing to her. It horrified her delicate sensibilities and she shook her head, urgently whispering, “Drew, no...” as she tugged on his hair to pull him up.
His smoky indigo eyes met hers as he lifted his head, murmuring, “Oh, yes, love. Oh, yes...” and kissing her inner thigh with the softest of lips before moving back to where he'd been.
Her back suddenly bowed, her cry of “Drew!” almost guttural as pleasure seared through her with the force of a lightning bolt. He left her breathless, nearly mindless with want at the new sensations tearing through her. Heat scorched through her, devouring her as the now-familiar ache tightened within the center of her being. The knot tightened, then burst in a fiery shower of sparks sweeping through her. She gasped at the first eruption, her fingers twisting in Drew's hair. They held on, twisting and tightening as she went soaring out into the great beyond.
Finally, he lifted his head to smile up at her. She gave a not-so-gentle tug on him and he obliged, coming up to cover her body with his. His entry was smooth and easy. She released his hair to sink her fingernails into his shoulders. They moved together in perfect rhythm, each meeting the other's pitch. His eyes were smoldering cerulean, holding hers and she lost herself in their depths.
Drew surprised her then. Holding her close, he rolled over, lifting her easily to bring her astride him. She froze, her eyes meeting his in a silent question. He smiled up at her. “Don't look so shocked, love,” he whispered, his hands sliding down the curve of her waist to rest on her hips.
"But, I—I don't know what to do,” she murmured, leaning forward slightly to brace her hands against his chest.
At her gentle motion, he let out a husky groan. “That's a start, love. A good start."
She shuddered as he tightened his fingers on her hips and gently showed her how to move. That introduction was all she needed. Feeling bolder than ever, she braced her hands against his chest once more, letting her fingers slip through the crisp black hair spreading out from nipple to nipple and down his belly. Her natural instinct took over as she quickly found her rhythm. Glorious pleasure swept through her as he thrust upward to meet her, filling her completely, and introducing her to delicious sensations she hadn't known existed.
He groaned deep in the back of his throat, releasing her hips to cover both breasts, teasing those beaded peaks until she let out a long, low moan of delight. She covered his hands with hers, letting hers slide up over the corded sinews of his arms to his shoulders. She skimmed over his chest, her fingertips brushing each flat, male nipple.
Her feathery caresses shattered his control. He surged into her, thrusting harder with each pass of her fingertips. When she bent over to lick one, he sucked in his breath, gripping her hips as tight as he could to fill her to her limit.
At his rumbling groan, she forced her heavy eyelids to open. She held his gaze steadily, caught up in the maelstrom of incredible bliss sweeping through her. The fullness inside her was unbelievable as he plumbed her depths with each hard, upward thrust.
Drew groaned deep in the back of his throat, her release threatening to consume him. He arched, thrusting into her with blinding force, ignoring the sting of her fingernails raking his skin. He barely felt the pain, could hardly feel anything but the throb of her all around him. His release was powerful—incredible heat tearing through his body with the flash and burn of a wildfire. He gripped her close in one last, sensual thrust as he growled, “Heather!"
As she sunk into him, Drew wrapped her in his embrace, crushing her close, as she trembled in his arms. “Dear God,” he whispered, struggling to catch his wind. “Oh, dear God..."
Heather melted against his chest, her head tucked beneath his chin, reveling in the feel of those strong arms around her. She felt so wonderfully content, so sleepy. Her nerves continued to fire, sending those delicious sparks of delight still coursing through her.
She nestled her cheek against him, just listening to the steady pounding of his heart beneath her ear. Her lips brushed his firm, sweat-dampened flesh and she couldn't help but chuckle as he whispered breathlessly, “Give me a moment to recuperate before teasing me so."
"I'm not trying to tease you,” she murmured sleepily.
He leaned his head to the side, smiling at her. “Well, you are sending impure thoughts through my mind with those kisses, love."
She sighed softly as he shifted his hips and the pressure within her dissipated. “I apologize."
"Don't ever,” he told her, his lips capturing hers in a deep kiss When they parted, he said, “Don't ever apologize for making a man feel wanted, love. It is a rare and wonderful thing."
"So, not too brazen, then?"
"Hell, no."
She laughed at his breathless reply, wanting so much to tell him how she felt, how she loved him so completely. Her heart slammed against her ribs at the very thought. Butterflies battered her insides as she repeated the words over in her mind. Her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth, which had gone suddenly dry. All she could manage was a muffled, “Mmmm..."
He held her for a long while, reveling in the feel of her, soft and warm, in his arms. It was so comfortable, he didn't want to move, didn't want to let her leave his embrace. Instead, he wanted things to remain as they were, with her in his arms forever. However, as the shadows grew thicker, Drew knew he had no choice but to break the spell. He groaned softly as he shifted, moving back onto his side of the bed. “I suppose we ought to think about dressing,” he said.
She sighed as he sat up and reached for his trousers. “Where are you going?” she asked, tugging the sheet up to her shoulders as she sat forward.
He eased into his trousers, rising from the bed and tugging them up in one fluid motion. “I do have to make my way to Shadowbrook eventually. However, I think I'll pop in and surprise Garrett first."
Disappointment crashed over her, weighing her down and pulling the erstwhile joy from her heart. “You are leaving?"
"Heather, I have no choice.” He rose from the bed, slipping into his pale green silk shirt and tucking it into his trousers. “As much I would like to stay, I can't."
"Of course. Your family would like to see you, I'm certain."
He gave her a rueful smile. “I am not as certain as you, love. They just might show me the door. Why do you think I am stopping at Garrett's first? I'll take him for protection."
She couldn't help but smile. She wished she could go with him, wished she didn't have to hide out at Christina's. Things should have been different, would have been different, if her father had not ruined everything. Heather ducked her head as sadness overwhelmed her and unexpected tears flooded her eyes. “Of course,” she repeated softly.
Drew perched on the edge of the bed. “Heather, look at me."
When she refused to lift her head, he caught her beneath the chin with a crooked forefinger, forcing her to look up. “Heather, I will be back. And, as soon as I make certain I am not about to be disowned, you will be accompanying me to Shadowbrook."
The sadness abated a tad. “I will?"
"Of course, love. Do you think I am going to keep you hidden away out here in the woods?” A smile played at his lips as he said, “I keep telling you, it matters not where we met and I have no intention of keeping you a secret."
"But it does matter where we met,” she replied, her voice tinged with doubt. “It will matter quite a bit to your family, I'd wager. Somehow, I cannot imagine they wished you to bring a—"
"
If you so much as whisper the word whore, I promise you I'll take a switch to your backside, my lady,” Drew growled, frowning at her. “Do you understand? I do not ever—and I do mean ever—want to hear that word in conjunction with your name for the rest of my days. Is that clear?"
A glimmer of hope shone through the fog of sadness enveloping her heart. “Yes, Drew."
He brushed her lips with a quick kiss. “I'll be back.” He reached for his frock coat. “I promise."
He went through the doorway and she sighed, hearing the thud of his boots on the floorboards dying away. She rose up from the bed, moving to the window to see him emerge from the house. He was whistling softly as he climbed into the carriage and the horses clopped down the drive.
She slipped into a pelisse and turned to cast a look at the rumpled bed. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she had not eaten since breakfast that morning. But, with as dark as it was outside, she had a feeling they'd missed supper as well.
She sank down onto the bench beneath the open window. Drew's scent still hung in the room, making her sense of loneliness even stronger. It was the first time in weeks that they were apart and she hadn't realized how accustomed she had become to being in such close proximity to him, how knowing he was always right there comforted her to no end.
She let out a shuddery sigh, feeling very much as she had that first night, when he left Delilah's. She hated the emptiness, hated the solitude, and wished more than anything she had met him at a ball, or a garden party. Perhaps then she would be beside him in that carriage, instead of being squired away to the woods, where he wouldn't have to face any uncomfortable questions about her. She wished more than anything that she had never set foot in Delilah's.
"No, that is not true,” she whispered, feeling her throat tighten as the tears returned to her eyes. “I am forever grateful for that horrid place. If nothing else, it was there I met Drew and there I fell in love with him. I only wish I had the nerve to tell him that. Perhaps then there might be a future for us."
She turned to stare out the window, into the darkness. The velvety blackness reminded her of those nights at sea, when there was nothing around but miles of black water. Only then, at least she knew she wasn't alone.
Twenty-four
When Heather opened her eyes the next morning, her first instinct was to reach for Drew. Then she remembered. He hadn't returned to the house the previous evening. She sat up with a sigh, the hollow feeling returning as she found herself wondering where he'd spent the night. Or, more importantly, with whom had he spent the night?
"No,” she told herself, shaking her head. “He wouldn't do that. Would he?"
More than anything, she wanted to believe he had simply decided to return to Shadowbrook and spent the night there. But, she couldn't help but remember Christina's knowing look as she said, Everyone in Brunswick knows what a rake this one is.
Still, she refused to dwell on it as she dressed in a light muslin gown of pale apricot, and went down below. Jeremy and Christina were both awake, talking softly over breakfast in the dining room.
Jeremy smiled as she stepped into the room. “Well, good morning, Miss Spencer. Drew still abed?"
She felt a blush work its way to her cheeks as she was forced to admit, “No. He—ah—has not returned yet."
Christina looked unconcerned as she chewed a mouthful of eggs. “I have a feeling Miss Samantha will not be too wild about the idea of letting him out of her sight for some time to come. He has been gone quite awhile now, and without so much as a word to any of them. I'm quite certain you've nothing to worry about."
Jeremy sipped his coffee. “Ah, yes. You are probably right there, Tina.” He turned his dark eyes to Heather. “I'd wager that's exactly where he is."
Christina smiled at her. “So tell me, how did you meet Drew?"
Heather took a seat at the small round table, her stomach lurching as she accepted the cup of tea Jeremy pushed her way. “In London,” she replied, pouring cream into her tea.
"He is a rascal, isn't he? But, he is a sweetheart deep down.” Christina pushed the sugar bowl towards her. “It's funny, really. Women have always chased Garrett, but Drew is actually the catch in that family."
"Is he now?” Heather asked, surprised to hear this, as it was unusual that a younger son was truly the most eligible bachelor in a family.
"Most definitely.” Christina nodded as she broke off a sliver of bacon. “Garrett is handsome, no doubt. But he is far too serious, more hotheaded. His temper is something of a legend around here, whereas Drew is so much more slowly riled. Still, the Kennedy brothers are quite skilled at getting tongues wagging—both too big and handsome for their own good.” She laughed softly. “The two of them often joke about how Garrett is the elder, but Drew is actually the bigger brother. And, he is also the more carefree one. More playful. Devil-may-care is a phrase meant for him."
Heather stirred sugar into her tea and took a sip. It didn't surprise her to hear this about Drew. She knew intimately how playful he could be. There were a few things he took seriously—such as his ship and Eagleton—but mostly he was, as Christina remarked, devil-may-care. It was one of the things she loved most about him in the first place.
Jeremy was smiling at her. “Would you care for some eggs or bacon, Miss Heather?"
"No, thank you.” She wasn't the least bit hungry. Her stomach felt a bit unsettled and the very aroma of the breakfast fare was making her nauseous.
"I wouldn't worry,” Christina was saying as she pushed her plate away. “Drew said he would be back, and be back he will. He's not one to break his word, you know."
"Of course he will,” Jeremy seconded, wiping his mouth. “In the meantime, would you care for a tour?"
"Of the grounds here?” Heather was a little confused. From the brief glimpse she'd gotten the night before, it didn't appear that there were grounds enough to warrant a tour.
"I was thinking more of Brunswick. I'd be happy to show you around."
"No, thank you. Actually, I am not feeling all that well. I think I will go and lie down for a while."
Jeremy's dark eyes filled with concern. “Would you like me to fetch you a doctor?"
"No, thank you. I just wish to lie down. I'll be fine. I am sure it's merely a lack of adjustment to being on land again.” She pushed the teacup away and rose to her feet. Her legs seemed shaky as she made her way back upstairs and into her room, where she stretched out across the bed, resting her head on the thin, though not uncomfortable, pillow.
Birds chirped just beyond the open window, and the air was heavy with humidity. It was July, and New Jersey was apparently quite steamy in the summer months. It did little to soothe her queasy stomach. The sunlight streaming in the window splashed across the bed and she could see dust motes swirling through the beams.
Where could Drew be? She thought back to Christina's words. Had she been trying to reassure her, or raise more questions? She seemed to be trying to make her feel better about his disappearance, but Heather couldn't help but be suspect. After all, Christina had once been where she, Heather, was now. Was it possible she was happy enough with her current friendship to not feel any animosity towards Drew's current paramour?
She sighed. The questions made her head ache and her stomach churn even more. Perhaps a nap was all she needed, she thought with a sleepy nod. Yes. A nap was all that she needed.
Twenty-five
"Miss Heather?"
She rolled over, blinking the sleep out of her eyes as she lifted her head to find Jeremy standing in the doorway. “Yes?” she mumbled thickly.
"I came to see if you were feeling better? Perhaps you'd like that visit into town now?"
"What time is it?"
"Nearly half-past one."
Her stomach clenched. She had not seen Drew in over sixteen hours. Now she was more than a little perturbed. The nap did little to ease her roiling stomach, the nausea worsening as she sat up and said, “No, thank you, Mr. Allen. I still
don't feel quite right."
He stepped into the room. “Please, do call me Jeremy. I find this formality a bit forced."
She reached up to rub her tired eyes. “If you don't mind, I think I'll just lay here a bit longer."
He crossed over to sit on the edge of the bed. “I hope you don't mind my saying so, but you look a bit peaked."
"I'm certain it's nothing. In a day or so, I will be fine."
"You aren't still worried about what Drew might be doing, are you?"
"Of course not,” she replied with an easiness she only wished she felt.
He smiled then. “You are lovely, Miss Heather. Drew is a lucky fellow."
"Thank you."
"If I was him, I'd never let you out of my sight."
She shifted, the nausea combining with a distinct feeling of discomfort. “Mr. Allen, please—"
"Jeremy.” His voice dropped to a low, throaty whisper as he brought a hand up to caress her cheek.
She pulled back. “No, Mr. Allen. You must not do this."
"Drew is a fool if he is out dallying with some bar wench, as he is wont to do on occasion. You are far lovelier than any female in the whole of Brunswick.” As he spoke, he inched closer. She recoiled, scooting back to the far side of the bed, until she had no room to move further. Jeremy was relentless, though, leaning into her until his lips came down to capture hers.
She reached behind her, flailing to grab hold of the wall, the bedside table, anything she could use as leverage to brace herself so she could use her free hand to shove against his chest. She tried to turn away, but he was insistent on kissing her, trying to force his tongue between her clamped, still lips and clenched teeth. Memories of Henry's attack erupted and panic swelled. This time though, Drew was not there to rescue her.
* * * *
Drew patted Samson's neck. “Feels good to be running again, doesn't it, fella?"
The black gelding nickered, his ears twitching as Drew pulled him up to a walk to cool down. He threw back his head and laughed. Everything seemed to amuse him now. The sun seemed to shine brighter, the leaves seemed greener, everything seemed so much more vibrant.