She couldn’t believe how he’d stepped in to comfort her and protect her from Aunt Sybilla’s unfounded wrath. For that matter, she couldn’t believe her aunt had acted as she had. Perhaps this entire situation was getting to them both, and Sybilla’s fear of losing her magic was effecting her emotions.
She frowned in concentration. But Sybilla had said her magic was actually strengthening at Belle Chene, plus told Wendi hers was, also, if she’d just try to use it.
Before she could pursue that thought, Nick opened the door on the garconniere and led her into the hallway. Someone had already lit the hallway sconces, but when Nick opened the door to his bedroom, it was dark. She preceded him into the room, and he shut the door.
“I’ll have a light on in a second.”
“Don’t,” she urged, taking his arm. “I--”
“I’m warning you, Wendi,” he growled in a low voice, obviously mistaking the reason she wanted darkness. “If we don’t get some light on the subject very quickly, I might have to concede that your aunt had a point.”
“About you only letting me stay here at Belle Chene because you’re trying to get under my skirts?” she asked in exasperation. “Don’t you think the two of us are a little too mature to be playing those sort of games?”
“Oh, no,” he denied. “Being more mature--having played those games before--only means we both know how much pleasure is in store for us.” He took the hand on his arm in his own, slowly pulling her closer to him. With his other hand, he traced an index finger back and forth beneath her chin. “It means whenever we anticipate searching out that pleasure with someone new, there’s the possibility of this time culminating in that trip to nirvana we’ve always heard about but never experienced ourselves. The place we’ve been temptingly near now and then, but never exactly experienced.”
His low, throbbing voice went through her like a lazy day, stealing into her senses and winding down her body to settle in her belly--and a little lower. When it made its way to her knees, she clutched his waist to steady herself and keep from wilting on the hard floor. Pulling him down after her.
He was right. Knowing what could happen filled her with anticipation. While lovemaking with Colin had been satisfying, she’d never attained the nirvana Nick evidently also searched for.
He bent his head and nuzzled her neck. “Don’t you agree?”
“Yes. Uh--agree about what?” she gasped, realizing she didn’t recall what he’d said previously.
His lips nibbled a path toward her ear. “Hmmmmm? What?” he asked, the quaver of the sound mingling with his nibbles and sending a delicious surge through her. The wave chased away every vestige of lazy lassitude, bringing each receptive pinpoint to full alert, as well as others she hadn’t even known she had.
“I forget,” she said.
When he murmured a “me, too,” she wound an arm around his neck, the action lifting her breasts to settle against his chest. The contact sent a new stab of pleasure flashing between her sensitive nipples to arch to the place below her belly.
Nick slowly turned her around and pushed her against the wall, his lips and hands finding new territories to explore--additional areas she wasn’t aware of until he touched them. The sensations dizzied her and made her almost completely unaware of her movement. But when he lifted her onto a sturdy little table beside the door, she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist.
With a groan that went straight into her belly, he pushed against her, rocking his hard, readiness on her and flooding her with both moisture and warmth. She exploded immediately, the reaction taking her by complete surprise.
It caught Nick unaware, also, if the words he murmured, which barely penetrated her senses, were true. But the few words she could understand kept her release undulating far longer than it ever had before. Left her entire body relaxed and fulfilled, wrapped around Nick but barely clinging. As soon as awareness crept back into her consciousness, it left her yearning for more, this time a joining with the man who had given her such pleasure.
But that man stepped back from her, shaking his head in bewilderment, his expression barely readable in the dim light from one of the windows.
“I--God, Wendi,” he murmured. “I’m actually afraid of what I’ll do to you if this goes any further.”
“I’m not,” she whispered. “As wonderful as that was, it’s not enough. I want you with me the next time I find nirvana.”
She slid from the table and took his hand. Unresisting, he followed her over beside the bed, where she stopped and turned to face him.
“Listen, Wendi,” he said before she could speak. “You’re upset because of what happened between you and your aunt tonight.”
“Yes, I am,” she admitted, reaching for one of the buttons on his shirt. “But what’s that got to do with this?”
“It’s got--I--” She unbuttoned the top button on the front of her dress next. “I--I don’t want you to regret this in the morning,” he finally stuttered as she unbuttoned the next shirt button and reached for the next one on her dress.
“Like I said,” she murmured, “we’re both mature. We’re surely mature enough to make our own decisions and live with them. Live with the regrets, if that’s what happens.” She finished unbuttoning her own dress, allowing it to gape open but not pulling it from her shoulders.
When she reached for him again, Nick cupped his hands around her face and pulled her toward him. His mouth was soft, all the more softer because she sensed the restraint in him. He feathered across her lips, nibbling and tasting, then parting them with the very tip of his tongue and curling it back and forth. She tugged his shirt from his belt to reach the very last button, and undid it while she opened her mouth to him.
He deepened the kiss and she ran the back of her hand across his hardness, feeling it flinch against her touch. Way too fast for a man with a less-than-sound leg, Nick swung around and sat on the bed, swooping her with him and pushing her back on the mattress.
Looming over her, he said in a warning voice, “I’ve never wanted a woman as badly as I want you, Wendi. I’ve told myself it’s for a lot of reasons, and I’ve told myself that if I could only have you once, I could get you out of my system. But what happened back there at the doorway proved me wrong. Do you want to know why?”
Suddenly she felt small and helpless, a maiden again, unsure of what lay in store. All her feminine wiles deserted her, including the sense of power she’d experienced while she tempted him to continue. He was so huge measured against her smallness. And he was completely in control now, leaving her no doubt it would be up to him whether or not he stopped. Or continued.
She licked her lips. “W--why?”
Very gently he touched her cheek. “Because I was jealous of you going over the edge without me,” he murmured, and she felt herself climbing toward fulfillment again with only his words. “I wanted to be with you so badly, I could taste it.”
That scared the hell out of her. It also brought every sense alive again, filling her with femininity and assurance that this was right. That she could handle it--needed it. That she’d never be able to overcome the loss if he didn’t continue.
“And I’m going to taste it before the night is over,” Nick said, slipping her dress off her shoulder with one finger and leaning toward her nipple. He flicked it with his tongue. “And taste more than your breast.” He cupped her between the legs. “I might even taste you there.”
She throbbed against his hand, grabbing his head and pulling him down to suckle her breast while she writhed in pleasure and completion once more. When she quieted, Nick actually chuckled against her breast, his hand bunching her skirt and working it up her legs. Overcoming her languor, she sat up, stood for a second and jerked the garment off, then stripped her petticoat and chemise in one motion. He lay there watching her, eyes hooded and features indistinct in the moonlight.
“Now you,” she insisted. Clad only in her panties, she faced him and propped her hands on her hips. “
Get naked, Nick. We’ll have our own ceremony.” She couldn’t actually believe she was teasing him so easily, but then, she and Colin had been easy and free with each other--had sparred in a jokingly sexual manner.
Nick lifted one leg. “You get me naked if you want me. I think you owe me that. I want to prolong this as long as I can, and believe me, it’s getting harder and harder.” He flicked his eyes between his own legs in a double entendre, and she giggled along with his chuckle.
“All right,” she said, bending down and reaching for his boot. Her breasts swung free, and she heard him groan. Tugging his boot off, she slipped him a look beneath her lashes. “And harder?”
She pulled that boot off, but in the meantime, Nick had his trousers open and was sliding them down his hips. By the time he got them as far as his knees, her hands were free and Wendi met him there, taking over the removal. Negligently, she tossed the trousers over her shoulder, then stared at what was now revealed.
“It’s hard,” she said with a satisfied smirk.
“Wench,” Nick muttered, reaching for her.
“You’re not completely naked,” she said, backing up so he couldn’t touch her.
“Neither are you.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Both together?”
“Both together,” he agreed.
He sat up and removed his shirt, while she untied the ribbon holding her panties in place. Teasingly, she held the ends together for a long moment, enjoying the way Nick’s gaze centered on her fingers and the pink ribbon, the way his eyes narrowed to bare slits. Suddenly she released the ribbon and gave a jaunty swing to her hips to hasten the drop of her panties.
Nick surged up and grabbed her, tossing her on the bed and covering her with his body before she knew what was happening. He nuzzled her neck again, a semi-sensuous and semi-tickling action, gripping her tighter when she giggled and wiggled against him. Her giggles died the instant he moved his lips to her breast.
He licked her nipple, then blew on it. She moaned as the hardening tip sent a flash of sensation through her and the other nipple puckered in fellowship with its mate.
“Beautiful,” Nick said, his breath continuing to cause the reaction in her nipples.
“Love me, Nick,” she pleaded. “Now. Please.”
“In a minute.” He licked the other nipple, then around the lower mound of her breast, tracing a path over to the opposite one and back to the same nipple again. “I want to enjoy your body entirely. Every delectable inch of it.”
She wanted her own part of his delectable body, especially the hard inches pulsing against her thigh. And she recalled one way she used to get Colin to hurry when he seemed bent on prolonging their play. She moved her thigh against that pulsation, then managed to turn herself and push her ache against him.
Nick groaned a half-gasp and pulled her closer. “Witch,” he growled.
“That I am,” she agreed, rubbing on him.
He moved over her and settled between her legs, which she wrapped greedily around his waist. “Open your eyes,” he ordered. “I want to see your feelings when I fill you.”
She opened her eyes, and the look on his face mirrored what she could feel in herself. Her lips parted and he slid into her, easily, smoothly. Fulfillingly.
“Oh, God,” he said. “It feels so good it almost hurts.”
How he managed she didn’t know. Didn’t care. But she crested two more times in quick secession before he rode with her into that nirvana he made her believe in. And she had absolutely no doubt that was the special place they found.
Or that he’d found it with her. His collapse over her, his shout of her name the only sound penetrating her swirling senses, assured her of that.
During the lingering flutters of aftermath, she realized he was still ready for more. Eyes opening wide, she said, “I’m not able. Any more will kill me.”
“Then I’ll die with you,” he said with a smirk, moving within her again.
#
Nick was awake when Wendi stretched languorously into full consciousness the next morning. She opened her eyes to see him with elbow bent, head propped on one hand, hair adorably messed and blue eyes watching her appreciatively.
“I’ve never had so much fun with sex,” he murmured, reaching out and running a fingertip down her cheek and around her lips.
She tucked her palm beneath the side of her face and smiled secretively at him.
“Well?” he prodded. “Don’t you have anything to say?”
“I don’t kiss and tell,” she said.
He lifted one raven eyebrow. “But you do kiss. Right?”
“Do I?” she teased.
“I wish like hell I had time to investigate that comment further,” he said, regret in his tone. “But I promised Julian I’d ride out and check the cane fields with him this morning. And I’ve noticed he rises pretty early--when he spends the night at Belle Chene, anyway. He’ll probably be out here looking for me any minute.”
Uneasy, Wendi started to slide out of bed, but Nick caught her.
“Whoa. He’ll knock first. He knows better than to barge in here without an invitation. Come here.”
He pulled her close and bent his head, kissing her gently and lingeringly. “Good morning,” he said when the kiss ended.
“Good morning,” she whispered. “Last night was wonderful.”
“Very,” he agreed.
“At least, after we got back here.”
She realized her mistake at once. Nick’s eyes darkened, and the barriers between them slowly but inevitably rose. To give him credit, she watched him struggle, but the reminder of her witchcraft unfortunately brought with it the reminder of her mother. Of the scandal. Of all the reasons she and Nick Bardou were the last two people on earth who should be lying next to each other after a delicious night of lovemaking. Sabine’s daughter and Dominic’s son.
The reminder also carried with it the reasons she and Nick were the last two people on earth who should have experienced the total abandon and mind bending pleasure they had last night. Given all that, the ending result crashed into Wendi’s mind in the same manner as a bolt of intense pleasure, only causing the opposite reaction in her.
It had been pure sex between them--nothing else. Purely physical--nothing emotional. Heaven forbid what happened between them be anything leaning towards lovemaking. Towards love.
She sensed the same conclusion in Nick’s mind--on his face--in his quickly shuttered eyes.
“There’s still no reason to let Julian find you in here,” he said. “Would you like to use the washroom first?”
Pain stabbed through her. Given the circumstances, he’d only reacted the way her rational thoughts indicated was the logical way to react, yet some tiny ray of hope had burned somewhere in her. But no longer. They’d shared their bodies and found nirvana together, but it was purely a physical release on his part. And he clearly expected her to judge it the same way.
After all, hadn’t she been completely agreeable last night? Maybe even more of the initiator than he was?
She slid out of bed without opposition this time, heading toward the washroom. Shutting the door behind her, she leaned against it and closed her eyes against the tears. A few slipped through her lashes anyway, but she grabbed a linen towel and mopped them away.
Through the door, she heard someone knock on the hall door, then Nick’s voice calling for them to wait. He padded across the floor, and she heard voices. Julian must have arrived. Hurrying over to the washbasin, she poured some water from the pitcher and picked up the cloth. A few minutes later, she wrapped the towel around her and peeked through the doorway.
She didn’t see Nick anywhere. He must have already dressed and gone out with Julian. Sniffling in self-pity, she checked around for her clothing, seeing it piled on one of the chair seats, beneath the high arms. Nick had obviously picked it up, so Julian wouldn’t chance seeing it when he opened the door.
Goddess forbid anyone in his family find out h
e’d spent the night with the daughter of his father’s mistress!
She realized the contradiction of her thoughts immediately, but she didn’t much give a full moon right now. As she dressed, she firmed her resolve as to the seance. One way or another, she was going to rectify the disturbed karma and get on with her life--a life without Nick Bardou.
Hungry, she headed for the kitchen house, where she and Sybilla took most of their meals with Miz Thibedeau. As she climbed the porch steps and reached for the door, she felt a furtive sensation tap on her mind. Could it be her aunt was discussing something secretive with someone and had forgotten to close off her thoughts? Feeling sneaky herself, Wendi stopped at the door without making her presence known and tuned into the vibration.
By the Goddess and God! That wasn’t Aunt Sybilla. It was Miz Thibedeau. Thalia Thibedeau was a witch!
How dare Nick decry her witchcraft, yet have a witch for a cook and housekeeper?
Wendi pushed open the door and stomped into the kitchen. Both Sybilla and Thalia started in surprise, then identical guilty flushes stained their cheeks. Wendi propped her hands on her hips and glared at them without speaking.
She didn’t have to speak. Her mind told them both exactly how she was feeling--reported back to her their confusion for a brief instant before both of them closed their own thoughts to her.
“Wendi--” Thalia put out a hand. “Don’t jump to any conclusions until you hear the entire story. You were young when all this happened, and there are things you don’t know.”
“By the full moon, I have a right to know them,” Wendi stormed. “I’m part of this, and I resent like hell the two of you keeping secrets from me!”
Suddenly something dawned on her, and a mixture of hurt and disbelief filled her.
“You manipulated me last night, didn’t you, Aunt Sybilla? You wanted me to spend the night with Nick. Maybe make him fall in love with me so he wouldn’t force us to leave Belle Chene.”
“Wendi, it wasn’t like that.” Sybilla looked quickly at Thalia. “Not exactly, anyway.”
“Not exactly! Aunt, I’m very close to hating you right now for using me like that. I thought you loved me. I thought we were friends, rather than just aunt and niece. Give me one reason why I should forgive you for what you did.”
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