by Chloe Harris
“I believe I saw a gig in there last time I was in the stables.” That grin on his face was lopsided and quite broad.
Confusion had her eyebrows wrinkle, but automatically she nodded. “I bought that chaise on a fancy a few months ago. They said it was the latest fashion, but I thought, fashion or not, it was perfect for my purpose. Sadly, though, I haven’t used it yet.”
“Have the gig ready, boy, will you?” His order was directed at John, who almost jumped in his tracks because he’d just been trying to steal away from them.
The groom almost hiccupped his contradiction. “Yes, but—”
“No worries, we’ll take enough rope with us to ensure that mare will get us back as well, won’t we?” Reinier cocked his head to Emiline and raised his eyebrows briefly.
She had to swallow and avert her eyes, realizing the stable lad was patiently waiting for her confirmation. At her minuscule nod, he ran off to do as he’d been told, but she hardly saw that. She was lost in Reinier’s gaze and what it did to her.
She recognized that look. In fact, she’d never forget it. It made her shiver. Not with a peculiar coolness, but with a fresh wave of anticipation and lust. He’d had that same expression yesterday. Just before their escapade in the tack room.
Reinier’s hand wrapped around hers and he brought it up to his lips. “It is perhaps wise to take the gig. We do have a long way to go, and this basket is quite heavy.” His breath tickled her knuckles. “I hope you don’t mind, my Lily?”
There. He only needed to say that name in that special tone, with that particular emphasis, and her toes curled while she fought against that rush of a pleasant tickle up and down her sides. “No—o,” she stammered, and the left corner of Reinier’s mouth kicked up.
“I thought so.” He hadn’t looked her in the eye when he’d said it. He’d absently brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. What was he thinking about?
Just as she wanted to ask, she thought better of it. He’d proven that he meant to keep their actions private so far. If there was something on his mind—without doubt there must be, because there were even unspeakable things on her relatively virginal mind—he certainly wouldn’t tell. He’d show her. That knowledge added to the pleasant murmur of tingling anticipation coursing through her veins already.
In no time the chaise was outside, the horse in front of it, she was seated on the passenger side and Reinier sat next to her, reins in hand. He clucked his tongue twice, the mare jumped into motion, and they made their way up to the secluded cove where her father had constructed himself a rough-hewn shelter.
After the conversation in the study, Emiline was determined to ignore all her deep thoughts and contradicting feelings. But now as they made their way in silence, listening to the slow trample of hooves and the occasional high-pitched protest of the wheels, she found that old habits die hard, unfortunately.
Even though she’d vowed to let it be and only lose herself in enjoying his company, she still had moments, like now, trying to analyze his mind, as well as her own. But she didn’t want to waste the remaining one-and-a-half days—and the night—worrying over whether her feelings were good or bad or she didn’t know what else. She’d try harder from now on, she pledged to herself.
“Here we are.”
Reinier’s words stopped her thoughts right there and Emiline looked up, realizing that they had, indeed, arrived at her second favorite place on the island. He was walking around the gig now, holding his hand up to her to help her down. She stood and jumped down, securely caught by Reinier’s arms.
Lifting her chin, she was instantly lost in the green fire in his eyes. His head dipped and he brushed his lips across hers briefly, his hands wandering up to her shoulders, squeezing gently. As pleasant as that fleeting kiss was, Emiline winced at the touch, lowering her right shoulder a bit. Reinier immediately drew back, his eyes narrowed.
“What’s wrong with your shoulder? Are you hurt?”
The surprising amount of worry she saw flicker over his face made her cringe inwardly. How she’d come to hurt her shoulder was much too embarrassing to tell. “It’s nothing, really.”
“Lily, why does your shoulder hurt?”
The tone with which he’d spoken was stern and Emiline knew he wouldn’t let it go unless she told him. With a sigh, she looked down and stepped around him. “I did nothing but what you required. I spent the morning as I wanted to.”
“And that entailed hurting yourself?”
She shrugged, already busy getting the blanket open, spreading it half in the shadow of the shelter just off the beach and half in the sun. “In a way…yes.”
Kneeling, she straightened the blanket, but Reinier was in front of her and grasped her upper arms.
“Lily.” Now his tone was so tender that she bit her lip not to blurt out that she’d just bumped her shoulder spying on him.
“All right, then. I was clumsy and I fell.”
“Clumsy? How? Why?”
Rolling her eyes, Emiline took an exasperated breath. “I saw you on the docks and ducked and hid to watch you. Only there was a crate in the way. So. There.” Her chin was lifted in defiance.
Reinier stared at her, his face an impenetrable mask, and Emiline felt her defiance crumble pitifully.
Finally, he blinked. “You spied on me?”
“No, no! I watched you, and it was just a coincidence!”
“You spied on me.”
“Well, look who’s talking. Those who live in glass houses?”
Reinier suddenly burst into laughter, rolling from his knees to sit with one leg stretched while the other was bent. “Lily, you happened to come into the study and I revealed I was there mere moments later. You, on the other hand, spied on me.”
He looked at her with his head tilted. He licked his lower lip, then briefly bit it. “What did you see me do?”
That was enough. That was definitely something he didn’t need to know. It was mortifying enough as it was. Emiline jumped up to go and fetch the basket from the chaise. When she returned he was still waiting for an answer.
Opening the basket, she looked inside. “Well, I didn’t see so much. Oh, look, lobster salad! You working, you bathing. Mmh, there’s mango again! I love mangoes.” She blinked at him, her eyes the epitome of innocence.
By the way his chest gradually started to shake, she could see he was fighting laughter. When she added the sweetest smile she could manage, he burst into fits of chuckles. She didn’t think she’d ever seen a more compelling sight than him laughing that openly. There was so much warmth in his eyes, what she could see of them anyway through the tears of mirth that eventually leaked forth. His genuine laughter was intoxicating, sweeping her away. Emiline couldn’t help but laugh with him.
When he sobered, he wiped the tears from his cheeks. “What else is in there?”
Emiline noticed him getting up off the ground but thought nothing of it as she peeked inside the basket. She cocked her head to see what else was there for them to eat, picking an earthenware bowl up and sniffing it. “Ah, prawns in garlic.” Putting it aside, she continued searching. “Oh, there’s also granadilla purée. What—”
Her shriek when she was suddenly blinded was almost earsplitting. Immediately, her hands flew up to rid herself of the cloth that covered her eyes, but Reinier caught her wrists.
“Trust me, Lily.”
He’d only whispered the words, but the tenor was so different from when he used his “command and conquer” tone on her, showing her that he knew how she felt and that he wouldn’t do it if she insisted.
It had never occurred to her that he could be vulnerable as well in their games. He knew he was pushing her limits, but did she truly want him to stop?
Spellbound, Emiline brought her arms down again. She felt the knot at the back of her head and the blindfold tightened, leaving her in complete darkness.
“Since you’ve seen too much already today, I believe this punishment is rather fitting.” His
front pressed reassuringly against her back, and his lips brushed the side of her neck. Emiline thought she felt him place a fleeting kiss there as well. She yielded to his will in a heartbeat.
Gradually, she got accustomed to the unnatural blackness and felt her other senses grow more acute. She could hear the seagulls again, although she knew they were far away. The waves washed against the sand on the beach just a few yards away. Garlic and mangoes and the salty air of the sea created a symphony in her nose that was simply unique. The faint aroma of ginger tickled her nose. Her eyes were covered with silk, while she felt rougher linen on her temples. He must have covered her eyes with his silk handkerchief before he used some other cloth to secure the blindfold around her head.
“But, monsieur, how am I going to eat if I can’t see?”
“I will feed you, Lily. Soon. But first things first.”
Her breath pitched. She became aware of Reinier’s natural scent. A green field of lilac poppies suddenly flashed through her mind, and his alluring darker note, resembling pepper, burnt in her throat. Arousal shivered through her.
Reinier’s front was still pressed against her back and her head became light. The moment he touched the laces on her front, the tips of her breasts popped up without shame. His wrists brushed over them when he slowly opened her dress and she gulped air into her lungs as each seemingly casual stroke sent electrifying sizzles through her and into her belly. Moistness pulsed out of her. Her core wept so fast for him she had to suppress a moan.
Her dress fell open, allowing the warm breeze to cool the crevice between her breasts. Her sensitized skin rippled with gooseflesh. The dress fell away from her right shoulder, and his hands worked the laces some more until her other shoulder and a good part of her upper body were exposed as well.
Every inch of her skin sizzled as if set on fire. She felt his breath on her shoulder. He must be watching himself, she thought, watching his hands, his clever hands, cupping her breasts, squeezing the tips lightly. His masculine purr made her feel dizzy with wanting and she let her head fall back, resting securely against his shoulder. The humid warmth of his breath tickled her earlobe.
“Stand, Lily.” His voice was rough already and even deeper than usual. His body exuded tremendous heat even through the shirt he still wore.
He helped her stand; she discovered it was not easy at all to find one’s balance without one’s eyesight. Then he tugged her dress down slowly as if savoring every moment when inch after inch of her body was leisurely revealed. Her overwhelmed senses spun. The tension in her immediately escalated; the lust she already felt pitched even higher. She could hear her own breath coming in shallow gasps, and she continued to remind herself not to move at all, for he’d given her no leave to do so.
Emiline felt completely at ease with her lack of clothing now. She’d always loved the feel of the sun and salty air on her skin. But, she mused, even better than that would be to feel Reinier’s skin added to those.
When he wrapped his arms around her waist completely, the slight pressure downward told her he wanted her to get back down on the blanket. Reinier’s arms supported her.
His breath tickled at her throat; then she felt it on her shoulder again. Next, he kissed the small hollow at the base of her neck, his hands cupping her breasts once more, but this time squeezing the tips hard. Emiline sucked in a gasp, her hands curling into fists as another wave of welcoming heat moistened the juncture of her thighs.
His lips wandered to her shoulder, then back up to her earlobe while his hands moved with easy slowness across her body.
“So much has changed about you.” His husky whisper in her ear had her floating on a wave of pleasure. She never thought that she could be as aroused as she already was. She didn’t want to have anything to do with the food in the basket. Right now all she wanted to have—
“You’re still so beautiful, but your body is different. It’s leaner, more defined.” Reinier pressed his teeth against her nipple until the peak pouted up between them and was received by his twirling tongue. She couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped her throat.
“Monsieur,” she pleaded, helpless in her passion.
“But your skin still has that flawless, rich, tawny color.” The palms of his hands now rubbed against her breasts until her nipples were caught between his fingers. Mirroring a scissoring motion, he squeezed them once more, making her shiver yet again.
“I always loved marveling in the contrast in our coloring,” he continued, and Emiline panted a ragged, high-pitched “yes” just before his demanding mouth closed over her lips and kissed her breathless.
Their kiss made her forget all her ladylike demureness. In the state she was in now, her unrelenting lust demanded he take her now. Her arms snaked up and wrapped around his shoulders, diving into his soft mane while her tongue thrust deep to show him that her patience was almost at an end. She drew her thigh up and wrapped her leg around Reinier’s waist, her hips gyrating instinctually.
His little treasures, those pleasure balls, would have never kept her on edge as much as feeling his body, so close to her, vibrating with lust, his hard flesh pressing into her lower belly; yet he held back, drawing the moment out until it became nearly unbearable.
Reinier broke the kiss, his hands capturing her wrists. He brought her arms down to her sides again, pressing them to her thighs. “I do believe it’s time we have our little picnic now.”
She harrumphed her resentment, but only got his hoarse chuckle in reply. Then he was gone, and she almost felt physical pain at his leaving. But she knew he was still near. The thick blanket under her let her feel his motions.
She heard the distinctive clinking of earthenware bowls being opened and the scent of food was even stronger now. Only then did she become aware of her growling stomach. She hadn’t had anything decent to eat today, so why not enjoy the promise of being fed such excellent food?
When the delicious aroma of lemon and the faint nuance of celery ignited in her nose, she knew he was offering her a morsel of lobster salad first. Emiline opened her mouth dutifully and he fed her a small piece of bread he’d dipped into the salad. Palm oil covered her tongue before the lobster, salt, and pepper followed and added their flavors to the taste.
He hadn’t been very careful, though, because a drop of salad still clung to one corner of her lips. Her tongue was still occupied, so she meant to bring one hand up to wipe her mouth clean, but Reinier stayed her arm. His warm, sweet tongue caught the stray drop straightaway, and his unique bouquet was added to the delicacy, creating the rarest specialty she’d ever had. Moaning, Emiline chewed a bit longer before she swallowed.
“Good?”
Smacking her lips, she grinned while giving him a nod. No need to stroke his ego even more by telling him that that was the best lobster salad she’d ever had. She’d much rather stroke—
Reinier paused while feeding her. Emiline supposed it was to dine as well. Then he continued, offering her another morsel, pausing again. Each time he fed her something different, mango or prawns or granadilla purée, and at each offered bite Emiline opened her lips in anticipation.
At some point it seemed he got clumsy on purpose, because he dropped granadilla purée on the tips of her breasts and slowly licked it off. Not that Emiline complained. She relished being used as his personal dining table. He even drew a wet trail with a piece of mango across her body, letting it rest in her belly button only to collect it with his lips, licking the sweet, fruity path he’d made clean.
When he held the next morsel to her mouth, she closed her lips with dutiful slowness and chewed with sensual appreciation.
“You do that very well, you know.”
She felt his hand on her hip, caressing her skin. “And what is that, monsieur?”
“Take every bite as if you were savoring something else altogether.” The lazy movements of his hand, from the top of her thigh to her waist, had Emiline almost forget her reply.
“It’s very good.”
She worked to make her tone as unaffected as possible, but the words came out in a slight croak.
“I think it’s you who is very good.”
“Well,” Emiline replied, cocking her head and trying to speak in the direction she thought he was. “One should always try one’s best to be good to avoid further punishment, I should think.” She couldn’t help but smile at her own boldness.
“Hear, hear! Speaking of punishments…” She felt the blanket under her move. He lay down at her side, and to her disappointment she realized he was still fully clothed.
He put an arm around her, an endearing, possessive gesture, and brought his lips closer to her ear. Emiline wiggled, rubbing her thighs against each other. How much longer was he going to make her wait?
“Tell me how you feel about what happened yesterday.”
Her good mood died quickly. She didn’t want to think too deeply about what had been happening. It was too mind-boggling, too dangerous. “Must we talk about it? I’d much rather we didn’t.”
“I asked you a direct question, Lily, and I expect my questions to be answered without hesitation—something you’ve forgotten already, or so it seems.”
Emiline started to protest, but Reinier nipped her objection in the bud. “It’s important for me to understand what you thought of the things we did yesterday before—or if—we continue into other things.” His hand grasped hers then and he brought it up, placing a kiss on the heel of it with just a hint of tongue in it. “I’d very much like to continue into other things, Lily.”
Turning her head away from him, the fingers of her other hand played over the blanket, finding a thread she promptly picked at. “I don’t even know where to begin, monsieur.”
She sighed and his lips wandered down her wrist. Reinier centered all his attention on her pulse now and Emiline somehow felt complied to answer. “I enjoyed it, yes. And no.”
“Yes and no?” He’d unexpectedly stopped his ministrations at that. He’d probably lifted his head, her answer having puzzled him.
Her cheeks heated with embarrassment. His finger under her chin raised her head a little for another kiss. That brief, silken brush of his lips against hers made her concede. “I didn’t enjoy it at first. I had never even imagined doing the things we did yesterday before, never imagined I could have ever been comfortable doing them, much less enjoying them…. But I did.”