Ferguson, J. A. - Call Back Yesterday.txt

  she moaned. “You have known for so very long. Just open

  your memories and let them guide you.”

  His words were confusing, yet seemed to make

  complete sense. She reached into her mind for those places

  she had not dared to explore, the very deepest and oldest

  memories she had.

  “What is that Arabic word you spoke?” he asked.

  “Mahbjb.”

  “Beloved?”

  “Yes. Do you want to learn more of my first language?”

  “Your native tongue?” He chuckled and framed her

  face with both hands. “Let me feel your native tongue

  against mine.”

  She curved her hand around his nape. Breathing

  deeply of the hot, smothering closeness of the room,

  although it should not be so with the breeze beyond the

  temple, she paid no attention to the oddity. All she wanted

  was to discover the heat within him. His auburn hair sifted

  over her fingers as she steered his mouth toward hers.

  Tugging her tight to him, he slowly, methodically,

  explored every inch of her lips. The tip of his tongue teased

  the corners which tilted upward in a delighted smile. When

  they softened beneath his sensual assault, he tested the

  slick planes of her mouth, leaving a liquid fire in his wake.

  When he sat once more on the floor, he pulled on her

  hand. She shook her head, but put her finger to his lips

  before he could ask the question glowing in his eyes. She

  plucked the pins from her hair to send it cascading along

  her back in a river as ebony as the Nile on a moonless

  night.

  He tugged her down to him and pressed her back

  against the floor. His mouth over hers revealed his fervid

  longing, and she let it flow into her, leaving her with an

  excruciating need that even his kisses could not satisfy.

  When his hand curved up over her breast, teasing its very

  tip, her fingers stroked his back, loosening his shirt beneath

  his sedate coat. She slipped her hands up beneath it,

  delighting in his warm skin.

  He shrugged off his coat even while his mouth

  continued to scatter kisses across her face and along her

  neck. As his lips reached the top of her prim blouse, he

  undid the buttons with a speed that suggested he had waited

  too long for this moment. His tongue delved into the hollow

  between her breasts, and she knew she had waited too long

  as well for this splendor, so lusciously uncharted and yet

  so familiar.

  She gasped at the rapture blazing from the moist fire

  along her skin. As he had branded her heart with a craving

  for him, his fervent kisses were claiming every inch of

  her. It took all her strength to pull away from him enough

  to reach for the hook at the back of her skirt. A quick

  motion loosened it and sent her dark skirt swirling like a

  sun-chased shadow across the floor. As she stepped out of

  its black puddle, she slowly began to undo the remaining

  buttons on her lacy blouse.

  Her eyes watched his follow every motion of her

  fingers while she unbuttoned her blouse. She could sense

  each breath he took, fast, shallow, eager. Delighting in the

  hunger in his gaze, she smiled. Several buttons still

  remained closed when she raised her arm to undo the pearl

  buttons at her left wrist.

  With a growl, he grasped her waist and brought her

  down beside him once more. Pressing her back against

  his hard arm, he whispered, “Leave some of the pleasure

  for me. I’ve waited for this moment.”

  He undid the last buttons and drew her blouse off. As

  he gazed down at her lacy undergarments, she reached up

  and loosened his shirt. She wished they wore far fewer

  clothes because she wanted to be against him, skin to skin.

  When he lifted her pendant over her head and placed

  it atop her notebook, she said, “But I’ve always worn that.”

  “In the past, but this moment is just for this moment.

  I don’t want to share it with the past.”

  She looked up as he did at the clouds of light glowing

  near the ceiling. Had the colors become brighter, or was

  the day growing darker? She lowered her eyes to discover

  his gaze waiting to enfold her. With a breathless whisper

  of his name, she followed her longing back into his arms.

  He untied her petticoats and loosened her corset,

  tossing both aside. His fingers settled on the silk garters

  that held her black stockings in place. With care, he drew

  them down off her legs. He frowned when he saw the still

  discolored bruise on her right knee.

  “Don’t think of it now.” She opened his shirt and ran

  her fingers up his strong chest. How could she have

  understood Meskhenet’s longing from the very beginning

  of the story and not known how wondrous caressing his

  bare skin would feel until she met Simon?

  When he tossed her stockings aside, she entwined her

  legs with his, exulting in the prickly wool against her bare

  skin. She wanted to enjoy every sensation they could share,

  so she never would forget again.

  He brushed his lips along the top of her chemise, and

  a soft cry of longing escaped her lips. She looked up at

  him in abrupt dismay and put her hands over her mouth.

  “Do you think,” he asked as he drew the strap of her

  chemise down over her shoulder, “I want you to hide

  anything from me? Let me be a part of your pleasure as

  I’ll be a part of you.”

  “But if someone comes here—”

  “As long as that storm rages outside, we can give

  ourselves to the one within. No one will venture near the

  maze until the rain stops.” He gave her a roguish grin as

  he reached to lower her other strap. “Why else do you

  think I waited through the past few fair weather days before

  I lured you here?”

  She smiled as she sat up to draw his braces and then

  his shirt off. “I’m so glad this storm didn’t delay any

  longer.”

  “I wouldn’t have been able to wait much longer.” He

  reached for the ribbons on her chemise. “And I shan’t now,

  mahbjb.”

  She smiled at the name he spoke as if he had done so

  often. As he drew her undergarments from her, he paused

  and guided her fingers to the buttons at the top of his

  trousers. She hesitated, then was caught anew by his gaze.

  It invited her to throw aside her proper ways and give

  herself to wanton passion. That invitation she could not

  refuse.

  In quiet awe, she discovered every inch of his male

  body, first with her eyes and then, letting her longings guide

  her, with her fingers. Her mind was abuzz as he pressed

  her back onto the floor again. She savored his bare skin

  against her. It was all she had imagined and all she had

  hoped for and so much more.

  Now the smothering heat came more from within her

  as he held her to his body that was covered with a fine

  sheen of perspiration. As if the temple had been transported

  to the su
ltry banks of the Nile. Each inch of him was an

  individual caress, sending uncountable thrills spiraling

  along her as her yearning threatened to overpower her

  completely.

  Seeking again between her breasts, his tongue set her

  skin aflame, and she became a wildfire roused by

  unstoppable winds of passion. He sought along the upward

  curve to the rougher skin of its tip and drew it into his

  mouth. She moaned as the heat within her escalated until

  she was sure she was about to melt in his arms.

  Pushing him onto his back, she tasted his skin’s

  textures. The curve of his ear was soft, the line of his jaw

  unyielding, tiny whiskers rough against her lips when she

  sampled the length of his neck. She tried to ignore his

  eager fingers, but she was aware of them inching along

  her legs. When she teased the ruched skin on his chest,

  she could feel as well as hear his rapid heartbeat.

  Lower, she followed the contours of his intriguing male

  body, delighting in every texture and flavor. More brazenly

  than she had touched him, she explored with her mouth.

  His almost anguished gasp of her name sent renewed

  craving through her. Never had she imagined the simple

  touch of her lips could offer him so much pleasure.

  “Enough,” he groaned.

  “Enough?” She was puzzled by his command when

  he writhed beneath her touch.

  Instead of answering, he rolled her onto her back and

  rose over her. She quivered with uncontrollable desire as

  he plunged deep within her. The pain she had expected–

  the pain she had been warned a woman must endure– never

  came. The sense of having shared this before vanished.

  Nothing had been as wonderful as this. Through her blurred

  eyes, she saw his satisfied smile as she clung to him, happy

  for one, short moment simply to be together. Then the

  craving surged through her anew, insisting upon satiation.

  When she discovered how her movements could match

  his, eliciting the passion governing both of them, she

  gauged the growing need so very visible on his face. Faster,

  more acutely than she would have believed possible, the

  yearning overtook her. Hearing his gasps close to her ear,

  she vanished into rapture, surrendering herself to the

  ecstasy she wanted to share only with him . . . forever.

  ***

  Darcy rose and went to the fireplace in her bedroom.

  She had brought Simon here after dinner and, after they

  reveled in their passion again, had fallen asleep in his arms.

  She had believed she would be safe there, safe from the

  dreams that had haunted her all her life.

  Sitting by the hearth, she hid her face in her hands.

  Less than a trio of heartbeats passed before she heard

  footfalls behind her. Strong hands settled on her shoulders.

  “How long can these night horrors last?” she moaned.

  “It was as if it were happening again.”

  “Darcy,” Simon whispered in her hair as he knelt by

  the low stool. “I don’t know how to comfort you. Maybe

  if you tell me what you dream . . .”

  “I hear something falling. Something heavy, and then

  there is silence. I can’t breathe. I try to shout, but my shouts

  are smothered within darkness. It’s so dark.” She

  shuddered. “It’s always so dark. I want to escape, but I

  can’t. When I try to wake up, the terror won’t release me.

  How long can this continue?” Spinning, she flung her arms

  around him. “Oh, Simon, how much longer can it torment

  me?”

  “Only as long as you allow it to.” His thumbs under

  her chin brought her face up to him. “You need to stop it.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  He smiled and held out his hand. “You didn’t know

  how to be my lover when this morning dawned. Now you

  do.”

  “There’s so much more I want to learn.”

  She went with him to the shadowed bed. Lying beside

  him, letting his kisses ease the shivers of fear and replace

  them with eager quivers, she traced the varied planes of

  Simon’s face before reaching his mustache.

  “It’s so soft against me,” she said with a laugh.

  When he smiled, and she enjoyed watching the muted

  signs of passion on his surprisingly expressive face. For

  so long, he had been completely in control. Now he seemed

  to want to free his emotions as much as she did. “Is that

  good?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  He laughed, nestling her against his chest. Her fingers

  entangled with his through her long hair. He laughed again

  as she tried to stifle a yawn and failed.

  “It is not yet midnight, but I hope that’s fatigue. I hope

  I’m not boring you.”

  “Not boring. I spent too much time last night working

  for my employer who makes me toil night and day.”

  “I’m sure he appreciates what you do.”

  Sliding her hand across his bare abdomen, she said,

  “I believe he does.”

  “And I hope you appreciate what he does for you?”

  He stroked her with an eagerness that thrilled her.

  “More than words can say.” She smiled. “All the way

  back to their beginnings.”

  “Then I guess you’ll just have to show me, won’t you?”

  As she gathered him to her again, her eyes were caught

  by the lighted clouds glowing near the ceiling. They floated

  closer and closer, merging into a single cloud, before

  drifting apart again. She forgot them when he tilted her

  mouth beneath his. For tonight, she wanted to forget the

  many mysteries in Rosewood Hall and think just of this

  pleasure for as long as it could be hers . . . this time.

  This time? Where had that thought come from?

  She had no time to discover an answer as she gave

  herself to passion and the man she loved.

  Fourteen

  ~~~ “You must go.”

  Meskhenet nodded, but held up her lips for one final

  kiss. Never had the moon been so swift in its passage across

  the sky. Never had the sun been so eager to lift its glowing

  face above the eastern edge of the world.

  Savoring Kafele’s kiss, for she knew she would never

  again, she blinked back tears. A Pharaoh—or even a rich

  man like Usi—could have wives and concubines, but that

  privilege was not granted to women. Even if it was, she

  could not imagine Kafele accepting such a place in her

  life. He wanted her to be his and only his as she wanted to

  belong solely to him.

  “It is wrong,” she whispered when he lifted his mouth

  from hers. “The scales of Thoth will be out of balance,

  and the heart of Ra must be broken. We are meant to be

  together, not apart.”

  “It is wrong, but it is the way it must be.” He ran the

  back of his hand along her cheek. “I shall never forget this

  night.”

  “If there is a way—”

  He put his finger to her lips. “No, beloved. You must

  not be so rash as you were tonight and the day when you

  came her
e to see me. Pharaoh might forgive you, but Usi

  never will. He has the power to make you wish you never

  had even seen me.”

  Meskhenet nodded. Kafele was right, even though he

  had not spoken of what brought the most fear to her heart.

  If Usi discovered her night here, he would focus his rage

  and vengeance on Kafele.

  She touched his face once and then hurried back to

  the river where the small boat was waiting for her. As she

  stepped into it, she looked back. A shadow in a shape she

  knew now as well as her own stood against the fading

  stars. She should have guessed Kafele would watch over

  her while she returned to the Pharaoh’s palace.

  Dipping the oar into the water, she pushed away from

  the shore. The sounds of frogs and the river’s current

  followed her across the water. She tied up the boat on shore

  near the gate to her garden. From here, she could not see

  Kafele on the other side. She did not need to see him. He

  was there. Even if they never could as much as speak alone

  ever again, he would always be there to watch over her.

  He had not had to say that. She knew it to be true.

  As Meskhenet walked through her garden, she heard

  a strange sound. Someone was wailing in grief. She ran

  into her private chambers. Her bodyservant was in a ball

  on the floor, sobbing.

  Meskhenet hurried to her, but paused when she heard

  a man’s voice say, “May I express my sorrow at your loss?”

  “Loss?” She whirled to see Usi in the doorway to her

  most private sleeping chamber.

  He walked toward her as if he already had become

  her husband and had the privilege of being within her

  chambers. When his gaze slithered along her, she wanted

  to order him to leave. She silenced those words when he

  stared at her feet.

  She looked down and saw the damp river mud on her

  sandals. Fighting back her despair, she lifted her head.

  She regarded him without emotion. She was the Pharaoh’s

  sister. If she wished to take a walk along the shore just as

  dawn was arriving, no one could dispute that other than

  her brother the Pharaoh.

  “Did some omen wake you early?” Usi asked. “Some

  omen of sorrow?”

  “Say what you have to say.” She kept her voice steady,

  but it was not easy.

  “I am so sorry to tell you of your sister’s death. The