by Danice Allen
“I haven’t any water.”
“I’ll get some snow and heat it in a kettle over the fire.” He winked at her. “It’s rather like being gypsies, isn’t it, Gabby?”
She laughed nervously. “This would seem like a castle to a gypsy. I can’t believe how lucky we are.”
“That reminds me… Why don’t you pull down the counterpane and the blankets on the bed and check the sheets? They could be damp. We may have to lay them out by the fire.”
What had she said that reminded him about the bed? But she went and did as he suggested, finding, as he suspected, that the sheets were a bit damp. After stripping them off the bed and hanging them on chairs by the fire, her water had had time to heat up, so she carried it off to the bedchamber to freshen up. Zach had given her the lantern because he’d found a thick tallow work candle in the kitchen and was using that to see by.
Gabrielle sat in front of the dressing table and looked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing one of her more practical dresses. It was made of a soft cashmere fabric, fawn-colored and long-sleeved, with a large, lace-edged white collar. Since she was up before her abigail, Gabrielle had done her own hair that morning, and now it was half up and half down. She pulled it back and washed her hands and face, drying them on a tea towel Zach had found hanging on a kitchen hook. Then she took down what little of her hair was still pinned in place, and brushed it, leaving it to fall from a side part to rest on her shoulders. Unbound, it came to the middle of her back. Maybe she shouldn’t have thought so, but she was quite pleased with her appearance. Her complexion glowed, her hair shined. She left the bedchamber and shyly stepped into the parlor.
Zach was sitting in a rocking chair by the fire, in front of the draped sheets. There was a little scallop-edged table pulled up next to him, and another chair just across. There were two bowls sitting on the table with a promising-looking spiral of steam issuing up from the contents of each.
“I thought it would be warmer to eat by the fire.”
“Yes.” She couldn’t imagine why she felt so suddenly timid, but she found she couldn’t even meet Zach’s eyes as she moved to sit down in the chair he’d provided for her. In the past few weeks she had actually been quite forward with Zach, but now …
“You look quite lovely, Gabby. I like your hair down. I always have.”
She’d sat down and was just reaching for her bowl when this comment caused her to freeze. She lifted her eyes and found him staring at her. There was a tender tug at the corner of his mouth and a warm luster in his amber eyes. He’d apparently freshened up, as well, in the kitchen, and the firelight glanced off his freshly brushed golden hair. His hands rested casually on the chair arms, his long, tapaced fingers curved over the scrolled edges. His long legs were stretched in front of him. He looked infinitely patient. Infinitely loving.
“Eat your porridge, Gabby, before it cools,” he said, breaking the spell. “You’re going to need your strength.”
Just what did he mean, I’ll need my strength? Overcome with confusion and trying not to show it, Gabrielle ate.
After two or three self-conscious, dribbly bites, she decided that she was too hungry to let nervousness stand between her and a surprisingly delicious bowl of porridge. And maybe she would need her strength. She managed the rest without another dribble.
“That was the best porridge I’ve ever eaten,” she said, setting down her bowl and leaning back in her chair.
Zach set down his own bowl. “Do you want more?”
“No.”
Zach smiled and gave a little shove with his boot against the floor, sending his chair to rocking. Infinitely patient. She licked her lips, gone suddenly dry. “What o’clock is it, Zach?”
“I don’t know,” he said, lazily smiling. “I’d have to check my pocket watch, which is in my jacket, which is a whole two steps away. It’s probably close to six.”
“Are … are you sleepy?” Then, fearing he might misinterpret her question, she hurriedly added, “I mean, are you tired? You’ve had a tiring day.”
“Do I look tired? I don’t feel it. On the contrary, I feel quite refreshed after that bowl of porridge, and I’m enjoying the fire and your company, and the entrapping snowstorm immensely. I feel as though we’re cut off from the world, Gabby, and for the first time it doesn’t bother me in the least that I can’t stir from the house.” His gaze was warm and penetrating. “You were right. You’re exactly what I need, sweeting. Exactly.” He rocked forward, stood up, and pulled Gabrielle to her feet.
Standing so close to him, Gabrielle was again overwhelmed by a feeling of shyness. “Zach, I feel so odd. This is what I’ve wanted for so long. Yet… yet while I’ve known you all my life, tonight you’re like someone new and strange. But not in a bad way, you know, in a good way!”
While she babbled, looking straight at his undone collar and the strong column of neck exposed above it, Zach ran his hands up her arms, cupping her shoulders, kneading them with strong, sure fingers. “I am someone new to you tonight, Gabby.” She could feel his breath in her hair, soft, warm, ticklish. He continued to knead her shoulders, and she could feel the tight muscles attenuating, expanding, relaxing. “We’ve been friends forever. Good friends. And now, tonight, we’re going to become lovers.”
Gabrielle’s heart did a little jig. “We are?”
He put her slightly away from him and bent his head to look into her eyes. “Unless you’d rather wait till we’re married.”
Gabrielle felt a delirious urge to giggle. What sane woman would turn down the opportunity of making love in a charming cottage during a romantic snowstorm, with a golden Adonis-like Zach? No one she knew, and surely not her. And he’d said such a lovely word, a word that conjured up possibilities of endless romantic snowstorms and love-filled nights—marriage. Besides that, she loved Zach and would have made love with him no matter what he could promise her in the way of commitments.
She felt her shyness receding. As she had been telling him forever, she wasn’t a child any longer, and tonight would mark her symbolic and literal passage into womanhood. “I don’t want to wait another moment, Zach.”
He chuckled. “I always knew you’d be a handful. But we’ve got plenty of time. The storm isn’t likely to let up soon, and we can only hope the Murrays will depend on you being with me again and won’t worry too much. But there’s nothing we can do to change the weather, so we might as well make the best of it.”
Warming to the idea, as she always warmed to ideas that greatly appealed to her, Gabrielle lifted her arms and locked her fingers behind Zach’s neck. “Then let me start.”
Zach looked surprised. “Do you know how to start, sweeting?”
She nodded her head. “I love you, Zach.”
He smiled, and the lines around his eyes crinkled. “Yes, that’s a logical beginning, the truest and best beginning. I love you, too, Gabby.”
He bent his head and kissed her.
Zach had told her that they’d plenty of time. Time to discover each other as lovers. Time for tender caresses and exploring kisses, while he patiently prepared Gabby for their ultimate joining. But her mouth was so sweet and full of promise, her body was so eagerly pressed to his, her curves so pliant and molding against his hardness, that Zach felt his desire spark like flint to dry kindling.
His restless hands roamed over her back, down to her slim waist and the subtle flare of her boyish hips, up again to the smooth nape of her neck. He pushed her hair back and kissed her there, just above the collar of her modest gown. Then he threaded his fingers through her hair, each cool, silky strand sliding sensuously over his tender palm.
He could feel her own tentative, curious explorations, her hands moving over his shoulders, small nimble fingers burrowing into his hair, drawing him closer, holding him with a fierce possessiveness. He loved it. He loved her eagerness, her wholehearted participation. He loved her more than life itself.
Gabrielle’s heart was jarred into a frantic rhythm, e
ach beat pushing heat and urgency through her veins. He tasted so good. He smelled so masculine, like sandalwood soap and the faint tang of salty perspiration. He felt so substantial, so real, yet so new and exciting. A little dangerous, even. A little scary. Her skin felt rough with gooseflesh, thinking about what they’d do, about what she wanted to do with him more than anything. He moved a hand between them and cupped her breast, brushing her nipple through the soft material of her gown with the hard pad of his thumb.
Zach watched her face, every stroke of his thumb reflected in her expression. She didn’t hold anything back. She was completely natural with him, unashamed of her own pleasure. Gabby, the consummate actress, became as genuine as sunshine during lovemaking, as free as the wind. His pent-up need for her, the need he’d denied and suppressed ever since she’d grown into a woman, was demanding full expression, complete release.
“Gabby,” he whispered against her warm cheek. “It’s time, love. Time to let me undress you.” In response, a tremor ran through Gabby. He pulled back and looked into her face, questioning, fearful that he’d gone too far, too fast. “Are you frightened, sweeting? Do you want to wait?”
She lifted her chin slightly, her hazel eyes softened to the color of sea-foam green. “No,” she said with conviction. “No, I’m not frightened, and I truly don’t want to wait.”
He tenderly caught her chin in his hand, kissing her very gently on the mouth. Then, without speaking, he bent his gaze to the front of her gown and dexterously began to unhook and unbutton all the fastenings.
Gabrielle watched him, her eyes following his beautiful fingers at work on the front of her gown, the concentrated furrow of his tawny brows, the lowered sweep of his dark-brown lashes. His skill at disrobing her was not unattractive, either, though it inferred that he had not, as Rory had suggested, been celibate over the years. It made her feel as though she was in capable hands. And since she already loved him, and would have endured the most clumsy fumbling, it was all the more exciting to feel confident that Zach would know exactly how to love her. Exactly.
The gown was unfastened as far as it would go, and now Zach gently tugged at the sleeves, pulling them down her shoulders. With her arms free, and not much in the way of hips to slow its progress, her dress fell to the floor in copious folds of cashmere. She stepped out of the soft puddle of fabric, and Zach gathered it up and lay it over the same chair he’d hung his coat on.
Now Gabby stood in her underthings, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Below the hem of her petticoat, Zach saw how she stood with one foot set on top of the other. She looked adorable, like a young girl waiting to be asked for her first dance. Eager, but shy. Excited, but nervous. As if she didn’t quite know what else to do with them, she’d crossed her arms over her chest.
“You aren’t cold, are you, Gabby?” he asked her.
She quickly shook her head, allowing her arms to fall awkwardly to her side. She blushed in the warmth of Zach’s smile. The firelight flickered over her smooth white arms, the full, creamy exposure of breasts above the lace ruching of her corset. “The fire’s quite nice and toasty,” she mumbled, ducking her head.
“So it is,” Zach agreed, “and because the fire’s so nice, we’ll take off the rest of your clothes.”
Gabby darted him a look alight with delighted alarm, then caught her lip between her teeth again and waited. He did not linger over the task, as he might have done if he’d been a little less in love, a little less demented with desire. Quickly and efficiently, though with infinite gentleness, he took off her petticoat, her corset, her bustle, her chemise, her stockings, her half-boots, and her silk bloomers.
Completely naked now, Gabby stood there, like a diffident statue of exquisite white marble. She seemed willing to be looked at, but unsure of exactly how to behave while being thus observed. To Zach’s loving eye, she was perfectly formed. Slim and firm, with proudly erect breasts and nanow hips, and legs that were as long as summer twilight. The tangle of crisp curls at the apex of her thighs was reddish-gold in the flame-glow of the fire. He took her chin between thumb and forefinger and lifted it, making her look at him. He wanted her to see the love, the adoration, the gratitude he felt for her, for her giving of herself, for her loving him…
“It’s part of the act of loving, Gabby,” he explained.
“To look at me, you mean?” she asked him, wanting to make perfectly sure she understood before she expressed her own delicious thoughts on the subject.
He nodded. “Yes. You’re so beautiful. Just looking at you gives me the most exquisite pleasure.”
Gabrielle smiled then, and lifted her hands to place them against the front of his shirt. Through the fine lawn, she felt his heartbeat, strong and rapid. She felt the swift rise and fall of his shallow breathing. “That means, then, that I can look at you, too.” She began to unbutton his shirt.
Zach made himself relax, at least as much as was humanly possible under the circumstances. Her fingers trembled, and her movements had an endearing clumsiness. Just the brush of her fingers against his bared chest made his pulse leap and the nerves below his skin writhe with awareness. He helped her, lifting his arms at appropriate moments, but without seeming to imply that she needed help.
He was enjoying this. He loved the way she looked at him, her eyes wide and curious. He loved the way she wet her lips and, now and then, gave a little gasp of pleasure. He was ready to burst with wanting her, but he was loving every second of the torturous waiting. Her being completely naked intensified the sweet agony. Her creamy breasts jiggled and hovered tantalizingly close to his own bare skin. Her nipples were taut and rose red. He wanted to touch her, but if he did he wouldn’t be able to wait any longer to make love to her.
He’d helped her remove his boots and stockings, and now there was nothing left but his trousers. Gabrielle was especially clumsy with his trouser buttons. Zach’s breathing was heavier now, and she got the definite impression that he was holding himself tightly in rein just to allow her the pleasure of undressing him at her own inexperienced pace. She was grateful for his patience and restraint, because she was enjoying herself. It was like unwrapping a long-awaited and much-wanted present. It was like the best Christmas morning of her life.
Finally his trousers and drawers were off, and Zach stood before her in all his glorious nakedness. She had always compared him to Adonis. And even without his smart tailoring to support the image of a fine figure, he was perfection. Perhaps more so, because she realized every beautiful lean muscle visible through his sleek-fitting and richly textured clothes had only hinted at his body’s strength and beauty. Here was one man who looked even better without his tailor’s help.
His nipples were wine colored and small against a smooth expanse of well-defined chest muscles. He had no hair on his chest, but a narrow golden line started just below his navel, the trail widening the further down it went, just like her eyes were widening… But how could she help herself? He was magnificent.
Zach was afraid of how Gabby might react when she saw his arousal. But there wasn’t much he could do about it. The little baggage had made him as hard and swollen as he’d ever been. He was even more aroused when he realized that he hadn’t frightened her at all. Her wide-eyed stare was full of fascination and absorbed interest. Gawd, the girl was going to make him lose complete control of himself in a moment!
“Have you looked enough, sweeting?” he asked her, the tension in his voice as obvious as his arousal.
She looked up, her pupils large, her eyes green and luminous in the firelight. “I could look forever, Zach,” she told him with blunt honesty and an impish grin.
“But I can’t,” he retorted. “Not without touching. And if I touch you, there will be no turning back, Gabby, because, as you can see, I want desperately to make love to you.”
Gabby sobered. “Yes, I do see. Believe me, Zach, I want you just as much.”
Of one mind, they came together. The shock of fire-warmed skin against skin w
as a sensory explosion of incredible pleasure. He caressed her, his hands moving over her body with worshipful urgency. Her hands were just as busy and curious, just as adoring. Their kisses were deep and greedy now, their breathing sharp and labored. Zach knew that if he didn’t lay down with Gabby this minute, he’d have her against the wall. And against the wall was no place to lose one’s virginity, though it was an interesting position to contemplate for future enjoyment.
“Damn,” he said between pants. “There are no sheets on the bed!”
“It’s warm by the fire, Zach,” Gabby suggested breathlessly. She gave a shaky laugh. “My legs are so weak, I don’t think I’d make it to the bed anyway!”
Convinced by Gabby’s ingenuous admission of passionate weakness, Zach threw one of the sheets on the rug to keep its scratchy wool from irritating Gabby’s tender skin, then he lowered her gently down in front of the fire. He promised himself that next time they’d go slower. Next time he’d show Gabby all the delights of prolonged sexual foreplay … a leisurely bonfire. He’d make her come again and again, all through the long, sweet night. But tonight he would do well simply to temper his ardor long enough to take her virginity as gently and painlessly as possible.
Zach rolled up his discarded shirt and put it under Gabby’s head to serve as a pillow. “Are you quite comfortable, sweeting?” he asked her, as he lowered himself beside her, propping his chin in his hand and letting his gaze wander over the beautiful, stretched-out span of her. Mine, all mine, he felt like gloating aloud. He felt deliriously happy and lucky.
Gabrielle dimpled up at him. “I’m as comfortable as I can be, considering I’m waiting to be ravished.” She turned sideways and stroked his chest with her hands, then his stomach, and finally wrapped her curious fingers around the velvety hard length of his manhood.
He gave a moan of pleasure that thrilled Gabrielle to her bones. She loved the power of pleasuring him. She loved his power over her, too.