Noelle

by Diana Palmer

  She turned and went upstairs, undressing hastily down to her skin. She pulled on a thin cotton gown with an embroidered bodice, loosened her hair, and put her things away. Her hands trembled as she turned off the light. She wanted to be close to her husband, wanted intimacy with him. But all the years of fear and whispered gossip made her apprehensive. Would it hurt? She loved him. Surely it would not be so bad.

  She was lying in her bed with the covers around her waist, apprehensive and excited, her whole body throbbing, when the bedroom door opened and closed.

  She heard soft footsteps. A shadowy figure paused beside the bed. Her lips parted as her breathing increased in pace with her heartbeat.

  There was a rustling sound, and then the cover was lifted away. The bed shifted under a new weight, and she felt herself turned and pulled to a warm, muscular body that she found, shockingly, completely nude.

  Her gasp was audible, like the shudder that went through her as her hands encountered his hair-

  roughened chest.

  “Will it do any good to tell you that there’s nothing to be afraid of?” he asked her gently.

  “No,” she replied in a small voice. His hands contracted, and she stiffened. “Jared, you won’t…hurt me?” she whispered.

  “Oh, my dear,” he said softly. He drew her close and held her, gently, without threat, until she stopped trembling and began to relax.

  His hand smoothed her long hair in a silence that grew as the minutes ticked past. He eased onto his back and pulled her with him, so that she rested against his side, with her hand flat on his chest, just above his diaphragm. He was muscular and warm and very hairy. Her hand contracted and shifted, just a little, and it tingled with the unfamiliar feel of him. He made a sound. She paused, and, after a minute, her hand moved again. The sound was deeper, a soft groan.

  “Are men…vulnerable when they are touched?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said simply.

  “Oh.”

  Her fingers hesitated. She had no experience at all, and while part of her was terrified that she might encounter something shocking, another part was curious and excited.

  “Touch me,” he invited.

  “It sounds as though it hurts you,” she protested.

  “It hurts in a sweet way,” he replied.

  She didn’t understand, and he laughed.

  “Be brave,” he coaxed. “Surely there’s more than a trace of adventure in your spirited soul?”

  “Jared, my idea of adventure is pulling up weeds in the garden,” she said demurely. “This is…very mysterious, and a little frightening. You have no clothes on!”

  “It’s rather difficult to make love fully dressed.”

  She heard the dry note in his voice. Her hand moved again, and went across his chest to a hard male nipple. She didn’t understand the significance of it, so she didn’t pause there. His skin was rough with hair, muscular and warm, and she liked the way it rippled when she caressed it. She caught her breath.

  “You don’t have any idea what this is really about, do you?” he asked through his teeth. “And I thought you were sleeping with my stepbrother!”

  “How do you know that I haven’t?” she replied angrily.

  He put her hand in a place that she hadn’t known existed. It paused there only until she realized what it was, and then she cried out and jerked back and sat up.

  “That’s how I know,” he said, laughing.

  “Jared, you— What are you doing?”

  “Shh.”

  The gown was suddenly on the floor, and she was astride his hips, and what she had touched was against her belly. They were sitting up in the middle of the bed. There was no light coming into the room, but she could feel his chest against her bare breasts and there was an unfamiliar tightness, a swelling, all over her.

  She had his shoulders tight in her hands and she was barely breathing at all.

  His arms contracted. He held her, without moving, until she got over this newest shock.

  “One step at a time, Noelle,” he whispered in her ear. And then his cheek slid against hers and she felt his warm, hard mouth cover her own.

  For a long time, all he did was kiss her. But inevitably, his tongue went into her mouth in slow, deep thrusts, and his hands touched her in new and exciting ways, in places that she had never imagined a man would touch her.

  When he lifted her, she had no idea why until she felt the probing at her most secret place and felt a hardness that made shocking demands on her innocence.

  “Oh, Jared, no!” she cried, her nails biting into his shoulders in fear. “Jared, it hurts!”

  “It must, this one time,” he whispered grimly, holding her even when she tried to get away. He pulled down on her hips and she felt a burning pain all the way up her spine. “Shh,” he whispered, kissing her open mouth as she sobbed. “I wouldn’t hurt you for the world unless I had to, my baby. Surely you know that.”

  Her fingers had moved into the thick hair on his chest and she was sobbing. She was frightened by the pain.

  “Noelle, Noelle,” he groaned into her tear-wet mouth, while his hands firmed, holding her where it still hurt. “Only a little further, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Bear it for me, can’t you?”

  She felt the tears running down, to be caught by his warm mouth. He was trembling. His hands were fierce on her hips.

  “I didn’t know that it would hurt so.” She wept.

  “Forgive me,” he groaned. “Forgive me, neither did I. We should have sent you to a doctor first.”

  “To a…” The comment got through the pain. Her body shivered and she looked through the darkness, trying to see his face. “See a doctor? But why?” she asked through layers of pain.

  One hand lifted and went between them, touched her where their bodies were joined, shocking a gasp from her lips. He touched her in a way that made her leap, so that pleasure stabbed into her body and overcame even the pain.

  Her nails stabbed into him and she moaned.

  “There?” he whispered quickly, and did it again.

  “Ja…red!” She cried his name rhythmically, over and over as he touched her. She moved, shifted, lifted and trembled, and another moan passed her lips. “Oh!”

  She was floating. She was free of pain, of anguish; she was free of everything. She felt the mattress at her back. She felt the heated muscles of his body slide tenderly against her from neck to toe, she felt her legs moved apart and her hips lifted. And there was no pain, only a sudden sweet fullness that moved and throbbed and brought her pleasure so overwhelming that she began to sob.

  His mouth covered hers, because she was making loud noises in her passion. The arms that held him were possessive, trembling. She heard the slats under the mattress shift, heard his breathing rough and hot at her ear, felt his hands all over her as his powerful body measured itself to hers in a heated, insistent rhythm.

  She cried out, the sound muffled by his hard mouth, as red waves carried her beyond what was happening to her taut body. Tension snapped like a pulled thread, and she was falling, shuddering, weeping with a pleasure that only lasted a few, sweet, ecstatic seconds. It ended abruptly, and she wept bitterly for its loss, clinging to Jared with all her might to try and bring it back. But he spent himself, too, and went suddenly still, convulsing under her hands before he called her name in a hoarse whisper, was still again, and collapsed on her body with his heart beating him half to death.

  She felt him over her, against her, inside her. Her hands tested the firm muscles of his back and she struggled to breathe normally again after the most exhausting, explosive pleasure of her life. Her body still trembled rhythmically with the memory of it, as if trying to recapture what it had lost. Her hips moved helplessly, and she felt a tiny hot pain, but even that didn’t deter her body from its
search.

  His hand caught her hip and stilled it. “No,” he whispered gently. “You are torn. This will make it worse.”

  “Torn?” It sounded terrible.

  His head lifted. He touched his lips to hers with such tenderness that she felt tears spring to her eyes. “Noelle, have you never been told what happens when a man and a woman come together like this?”

  “Who was there to tell me?” she whispered.

  He kissed her closed eyelids. “Nature protects a woman’s body with a thin membrane called a maidenhead. When a man’s body penetrates a virgin’s, the membrane tears.”

  She was so embarrassed that she thanked God it was dark and he couldn’t see her face.

  “That’s why it was painful,” he said. “And I apologize to you most humbly for the accusations I made. Your virginity was all too apparent.”

  “It was supposed to hurt?” she asked.

  “I’ve been told that it has to, sometimes.”

  Told. Her hands smoothed over the hard, powerful muscles of his shoulders and back. “You do not know?”

  He chuckled and his mouth moved slowly to cover her soft breast. “No.”

  “Then, this was…”

  “…my first time with a virgin,” he finished for her.

  She wanted so badly to ask about the others. She wanted to ask a dozen questions, shameful ones that she could never ask in the light of day. But she hesitated.

  “Jared,” she began.

  He started to pull away, and she cried out. His body stilled at once. He said something under his breath. His hand went to her hip and he eased away from her, bit by bit. “Easy, little one,” he whispered soothingly when she clenched and gasped with the pain. “Easy.”

  When he finally moved away, she felt as if she had been burned. She wept for the pain. He drew her against him and held her gently, nuzzling her face with his.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “Oh, but it was worth it,” she said fervently, without thinking. “Jared, it was the sweetest thing!”

  He let out a long breath. “Was it?”

  She lay her cheek against his chest and moved so that she could feel it against just the jut of her breasts. She hesitated, though, when he stiffened. “Shouldn’t I do this?” she asked quickly. “You must tell me if I do something I shouldn’t. I know so little, Jared.”

  He drew her back to him. “It excites me to feel your body like this,” he told her. “I enjoy the sensation of being aroused, but it’s painful when I can’t indulge it. You must already know that I can’t have you a second time, Noelle. The pain would be unbearable for you.”

  “I know.” She let out a long breath, and another. “Did you…enjoy it? If it hurt me, did it hurt you?”

  “A little,” he said surprisingly. He laughed at her start of surprise. “That part of me is delicate skin, just as that part of you is.”

  “Jared!”

  He kissed her eyelids closed and stretched, shivering with the aftereffects of so much ecstasy. “I had forgotten how exhausting this is.”

  She didn’t reply. She glowered in the dark.

  “Are you jealous?” he whispered, delighted. “Does it make you angry to hear that I’ve done this before?”

  “Yes!” She rolled over and hit his chest. He caught her fist and brought it to his mouth, nipping the knuckles with his teeth lightly.

  “I’ve never done it so perfectly before,” he said, his voice deep and slow in the darkness, “or with such tenderness. I’ve never cared so much that a woman had pleasure from my body.”

  She sat up, gingerly, because she was very raw. She shivered.

  “Have I hurt you badly?” he asked, and he sounded solemn now, stern.

  “I’m only sore,” she said, flushing when she realized what they were saying to each other. She touched her thigh where it felt wet—and the metallic smell of blood was on her fingers. She grimaced. “Oh, Jared, the sheets… Everyone will know!”

  “We’re married,” he reminded her.

  “Yes, but—”

  “What a goose you are.” He drew her to him and kissed her, touching her breasts with slow, possessive hands. “And what a delight.” He released her with a wistful sigh.

  She sat up and touched his chest. “After it…heals, will it hurt the next time?”

  “No.” He couldn’t bear to think about a next time. There might not be one for them. He had to put some distance between them. He’d had his one night. If he lost her, it must last him for the rest of his life.

  He got up, she heard a rustle as he pulled on his robe.

  “You’re going away? But…we’re married. Can’t you stay with me…all night?” she asked hesitantly.

  The temptation made him want to cry out, but he didn’t dare. He was already besotted with her. He really couldn’t risk having her hear the nightmares that plagued him so often in the darkness. When the time was right, if and when she got over Andrew, he would tell her everything and hope for the best. He retrieved her gown from the floor in the dim light and handed it to her. “No. I won’t stay.”

  “But why?” she whispered.

  He paused beside the bed, his hands deep in his robe pockets. “Noelle…” he began, wanting so desperately to ask her if she’d been thinking of Andrew while he was loving her.

  “Yes?” she asked softly.

  He couldn’t ask it. It was almost funny that he’d faced down angry men over gun barrels, but he was afraid of words from this woman, who’d come to mean so much to him.

  “Nothing,” he said abruptly. “Good night.”

  He went out, closing the door gently behind him. Noelle sat there, puzzled, for a long time before she went to the washstand and gently bathed the raw tissues. The pain was so disturbing that she hardly slept at all, but it was better in the morning.

  * * *

  SHE WENT DOWN to breakfast with a lighter step, fascinated by what she’d learned in the darkness about married life. But when she went into the dining room, it was to find the old, familiar Jared sitting at the head of the table. He smiled at her, but without hidden messages, and he was polite, but there was nothing of the lover of the night in his manner. He was like a stranger.

  She felt a rush of insecurity. It made her fumble. She was uncomfortable when she sat down, too, and she imagined that everyone saw, everyone knew, even if they weren’t looking directly at her.

  “Have some eggs, child. I think they came out extra nice this morning,” Mrs. Pate said, presenting them on a platter. “After all the exercise you got chasing Mr. Henry yesterday, I expect you need to be built up again!”

  She was chuckling as she went out, and Mrs. Dunn made a sound suspiciously like laughter herself.

  “He was drinking,” Noelle muttered in her own defense. “He chopped down my tomato plants when they had little tomatoes on them. They would have been big enough to eat in two weeks. Now I have only a handful of plants left. He deserved what he got.”

  “Yes, I know, child,” Mrs. Dunn replied. She chuckled. “I can’t blame you.”

  She pursed her lips, remembering what Mrs. Pate had told her about Mrs. Dunn’s early faux pas in the community.

  Mrs. Dunn must have anticipated that, because her blue eyes, so like her grandson’s, twinkled when she looked at Noelle. “I love gardening myself.”

  She laughed softly. “So you said.”

  Mrs. Dunn shrugged. “I’ve been overly sensitive to gossip these past years. I’m learning to live in the new times, but they’re difficult for old ones like me.”

  “You’re not so old,” Jared said, speaking for the first time. “You still have the spirit I remember from my youth.”

  “But, alas, not the energy.”

&nbs
p; Jared was looking at Noelle intently, but when she turned her head, he averted his eyes. He finished his breakfast unhurriedly and wiped his mouth with the linen napkin.

  “I have a client to see this morning,” he said, looking at his watch.

  “You mentioned telegraphing that detective in Chicago,” his grandmother remarked. “Is he coming here?”

  “I don’t expect him to. The investigation I require can be done where he is.”

  “Couldn’t one of the city detectives tell you what you want to know?” his grandmother asked.

  “Grandmother, they work for the city, and one of them will be a witness for the prosecution.”

  “This man in Chicago, can he help you prove the innocence of your client?” Noelle asked.

  He looked at her with a new bleakness in his eyes that was at variance with his matter-of-fact tone. “I hope that he can find some evidence to tie the accuser to crimes in the past. I’ve tried enough criminal cases to have a fair knowledge of a client’s guilt or innocence. I’m not infallible, but I think this gentleman is telling the truth. And the fact is, he had no motive that I can find for the theft and beating of Marlowe, not even an argument.”

  “Then why was he arrested?” she persisted.

  He glowered at her. “Because he has enemies and no real alibi.”

  “I see.”

  He bent and kissed his grandmother’s cheek. Noelle sat, waiting breathlessly, hoping for something similar. But although he glanced in her direction, after the slightest hesitation he nodded politely, then went straight out the door without looking back.

  * * *

  NOELLE HELPED MRS. PATE carry the dirty dishes and platters into the kitchen, wincing a little with every move.

  Mrs. Pate went to the pantry and came back with a small jar of salve. She glanced around to make sure no one could overhear her and handed the tiny vial to a puzzled Noelle.

  “For the soreness,” she said. “It will help it heal.”

  Noelle flushed. The sheets—Mrs. Pate would have collected them this morning.

  “My dear girl,” the older woman said kindly, “all of us have been married. There’s no need to be embarrassed. A man’s passion and childbirth are part of a woman’s lot in life.” She patted the girl’s hands gently as she passed the salve to her. “It gets much better,” she added reassuringly. “When a man gets older, he loses his inclination to spend so much time satisfying his ardor. You can bear it until then.”