Sara looked up sharply. “Womanly?”
A wicked smile crawled across his face as he drew her further into the darkest part of the room, backing her into a corner. “I find you very beautiful, Sara,” he whispered. “Much more beautiful than your sister.”
Sara’s face lit up in triumph. Before she had a chance to respond, Lord Oakley’s lips fell eagerly upon hers, devouring their innocence.
“So beautiful,” he murmured as his lips raked against her neck and her throat. His hands were everywhere all at once, wrenching her dress down to her waist.
She gasped at the sudden coolness of the air upon her naked breasts and Lord Oakley’s wet tongue as he dragged it across her nipples. Her fingernails bit into her palms as her hands clenched in response. She felt helpless against his power, revolted by his foul breath, yet she was determined to stay still.
She heard him curse beneath his breath as he fumbled with his breeches and chuckle as he set himself free. She found strength by envisioning her sister’s face when she told Catherine her little sister was now a woman. With a satisfied smile, she allowed him to lower her to the dirty straw-covered ground and closed her eyes against his grunts and groans, prepared to endure his intrusion.
≈
Catherine awoke feeling devilishly happy. Thoughts of her time aboard La Helena brought a blush to her cheeks. She touched her lips, remembering how Jonathan had so gently taken them. She could scarce remember a time that she had given in so completely to her desires. She relived the pressure of his arms around her, the feel of his hair tangled in her fingers, the beating of his heart against her breast. She had not known what a kiss could be until then. She smiled to herself, feeling a little bit wicked. So unlike you, Lady Catherine. What would they all think of you?
She laughed out loud as she reached above her head in a cat-like stretch. Pushing the bedcovers away, she got out of bed and padded to the window. The sun was already making its way up the sky. Jonathan would have set sail by now, she mused. So be it. The passion they shared last night would sail away with him, their secret tossed to the wind and scattered across the waves. The kiss she shared with Jonathan was the beginning of something new for her. He found a passionate woman inside of her and skillfully coaxed her out. Now she was certain that her relationship with Galen could be so much more and she was determined to bring the same spark to life between them.
The sound of clashing swords and the shouting of men in training made its way to Catherine’s window. Below, Galen came into view carrying swords and lances towards the training ground. Catherine leaned out of the window, “Galen!” she called to him.
He looked up and smiled. “Good morrow to you, Catherine! It is almost midday! I trust you are rested?”
She leaned forward a bit more, letting her hair cascade around her shoulders. She smiled with satisfaction when she saw him pause, taking in her beauty and the sheerness of her nightgown.
His smile promptly faded as he looked quickly around him and then back to her. “I pray you dress yourself, Catherine, with haste, lest you attract unwanted attention!”
Catherine laughed as she withdrew. She summoned Emelie to draw a bath and turned her attention to selecting her gown, humming to herself as she rummaged through her trunk and then her wardrobe, ignoring the maid’s curious glances. When the bath was steaming, Catherine abandoned her search, undressed, and lowered her body into the rose-scented water. Like a lover’s touch, the water inched its way up her legs, over her thighs, up to the cleft between her legs, the place that only just last night burned with need. She sank lower to feel the caressing water cover her hips, her stomach, and her breasts before she finally leaned back, fully immersed. The feel of Jonathan’s hands on her waist, his fingers stroking her back and arms was still etched in her mind as she smoothed the scented water over her ivory skin. Why have I not felt like this before? Her mind was alive with questions. How can a kiss, a mere touch, make me feel so alive? She took extra care to wash her hair until the rich color glimmered. Perhaps all she needed was to be awakened to such sensations. Yes, she was positive she could be with Galen and feel excitement and passion with him. She would be happy to be his wife.
She quickly stood up and took the towel Emelie offered her as she stepped out of the tub. She smiled. Naughty Catherine.
Catherine rejected the dress Emelie had placed on the bed, choosing instead a gown fashioned in deep green fabric that fitted snugly about her waist. The neckline scooped low to reveal the tops of her full breasts.
Emelie brushed Catherine’s hair and fluffed it until it was dry, fanning the locks over her shoulders and down her back.
Confidently, Catherine went to watch Galen and the other men training as they engaged in mock attacks.
Unaware of her presence, Galen’s face was focused, intense, utterly engrossed. His stance and his movements were smooth and graceful, but his muscled legs, wide shoulders and chest held restrained force, ready to react at any moment.
One by one, the men stopped their maneuvers and stared at her, their jaws slack and eyes round. Galen, about to reprimand the men for stopping, saw Catherine and quickly turned to face his men. “Rowan, stand in my stead. The rest of you, carry on!”
Giving his sword to Rowan, his second in command, Galen quickly closed the distance between him and Catherine. He stood before her, taking in the full length of her, his eyes reflecting a mix of approval and confusion.
Realizing the exercises had not yet resumed, he turned and cried, “Carry on, I said!” Taking Catherine’s arm, he led her towards the garden.
“Such a beautiful day, is it not, Galen?” she asked, her voice lilting. The sky, so brilliantly blue and the sun so gloriously bright, were no match for Catherine’s disposition this morning.
His eyes narrowed in response. “You are in a fine mood.”
They walked a few minutes in silence. She could feel Galen’s burning gaze on her, but she would not look at him. She rather enjoyed seeing him a bit confused.
“What brought you to the training?” he asked. “Is something amiss?”
“Do I need a reason to watch the men train?” She looked at him with wide, innocent eyes.
He pondered her question. “Nay, but you have never shown an interest before.”
“Then it is far past time I should, Galen. After all, they are part of the family.”
“Family?” Raised eyebrows betrayed his surprise.
She shook her head. “Pay no mind.” She hooked her arm through his and they walked in silence.
“I daresay the men saw a different Lady Catherine today,” he ventured at last. “It seems your beauty had them mesmerized.”
“Hmm, I cannot say I noticed.” ’Tis unladylike to flaunt yourself, her mind chided. Her heart paid no mind. Ah, but you must admit that the feeling is simply delicious!
Galen stopped and turned her toward him, studying her face and hair. His eyes followed the lines of her neck down to her shoulders and to her bodice. She felt her body respond to his attention, with a quickened pulse and a tightening in her belly. She lifted her chin with invitation.
His brooding eyes locked with hers, searching for an explanation. Catherine did not miss the flicker of uncertainty that flashed before it melted into desire. The way he cradled her face in his hands, so strong, so tender, took her breath away.
He touched his lips to hers, gently at first as if afraid he would hurt her, and then harder when he felt her respond.
Her lips parted when his tongue sought entrance, seeking the warmth inside. She gripped his shoulders and waited for the passion and abandon to come, the spark to ignite her flame still smoldering within her. Though Galen’s kiss was gentle and loving, she could feel him hold back; unlike Jonathan, whose spirit seems to know no bounds, whose kiss was simply…fire. Hot and burning, consuming everything in its path.
Galen abruptly pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. His voice was ragged, his breathing fast. “Catherine... I pray you f
orgive me...”
“Hush.” She smiled. She took his hands in hers and waited until he looked into her eyes. “There is nothing to forgive.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and put her cheek against his chest.
With time the passion would grow between them, she thought. She now knew what it felt like and what she was capable of feeling; how a man could make a woman lose all sense of reason, for one night and quite possibly for a lifetime.
Chapter 15
Eryn’s thumb moved over the keypad of her cell phone. She scowled at the text messages, all from Troy, asking for the same thing. Weren’t his two messages from that morning about another portrait session enough? Granted she had not yet been able to get back to him to set a time, but his persistence was to the point of annoying.
“Tell me again why we’re doing this?” Bryce’s form filled the bathroom doorway, his shoulders nearly touching the sides of the frame. Midnight hair, slicked back off his face, dripped water down his still-wet body, droplets rolling teasingly downward from his chest over his rippling stomach and into the towel wrapped snugly around his waist.
Eryn closed her phone and looked up. She blinked and swallowed hard. How can he radiate hot sex when his eyes are like ice? She shoved away the urge to go to him. If the set of his jaw was any indication, he was definitely in no mood – for anything.
Putting down the phone, she focused instead on fastening a pearl necklace around her neck, pondering his question. Why did she ever do anything for Brandi? It was just the way it was since the day they met. On the first day of high school, Eryn happened to be walking past Brandi in the parking lot. Brandi was bent over, trying to get her nose to stop bleeding, muttering profanities. Apparently Brandi had mouthed off to a couple of seniors - who found a quick way to shut her up. There Brandi stood, blood running down her face, spattering the front of her shirt. How could Eryn not offer her the extra sweatshirt she had brought for gym class? She had even walked Brandi to the bathroom and helped clean her up. Thus began the pattern between the two of them.
Eryn couldn’t figure out why she felt compelled to take care of Brandi even though she knew her friend took advantage of her. Maybe it was time to start drawing the line, Eryn thought. She was starting to feel an inkling of resentment. Maybe if Brandi starts depending on someone else, she’ll get a life of her own…and get out of mine.
Bryce arched a brow, waiting for her answer.
“Because Brandi needs to hook up with somebody, and I’m thinking Troy might be the one.” She shrugged. “I’m just trying to be a good friend,” she said as she went into the closet.
“You’re way too tolerant of her, Eryn.”
“I know, I know,” she muttered, emerging from the closet a holding a red, capped-sleeve cocktail dress with a scooped back and matching heels.
“I'm doing this under duress, you know,” he said, still not moving.
“I know that. But listen, maybe if they like each other we can see less of the both of them.” Tossing the dress and shoes on the bed, she wrapped her arms around his waist. “I really appreciate this.”
His hair fell over his steel eyes as he looked down at her, his jaw still firmly set. Letting out a deep breath, he gave in, kissing the top of her head before pushing her away.
≈
The drive home was quiet except for the radio playing low. Eryn thought dinner went relatively well, but the rhythmic tightening of Bryce’s hands around the steering wheel signaled to her that he thought otherwise. She nervously bit her bottom lip as she ran through, for the third time, everything that happened tonight. During dinner Bryce was cordial enough, though not offering much to the conversation, and seeming more than happy to let Eryn do the talking for the both of them.
The conversation over dinner had steered itself through neutral territory, touching on the most scenic places to rock climb, college life, latest building projects Troy’s uncle was drumming up, and Brandi’s acting career. Troy was a bit full of himself, but that seemed normal, and Brandi, although seeming a bit agitated at times, for the most part was content to hang on Troy’s every word and touch him whenever she got the chance.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” Bryce’s sudden question snapped in the air.
Eryn cringed. She didn’t like the way that sounded.
“Doesn’t what bother me?” She stared out her window. What was she missing?
He turned his head sharply in her direction. “You really didn’t see it?” His brows were drawn together so tightly it was obvious he thought she was completely blind or an idiot or both.
The confusion she felt must have clearly shown on her face because he let out an exasperated breath and shoved his hand through his hair. The oncoming headlights lit up his face as he focused on the street again. His jaw muscle clenched tight.
“That bastard was hitting on you.”
“What? He talked, I responded. Somebody from our side of the table had to keep up with the conversation,” she said defensively. She sat back further into the seat and crossed her arms across her chest. “You certainly weren’t helping.” She immediately wished she could take that back. It was she who had dragged him along tonight, knowing full well he didn’t want to go. But he still did it. For her.
“No, Eryn, it was more than that.” Bryce shook his head, dismissing her interpretation of the evening. The car came to a smooth stop, idling at a red light.
“I think I would have noticed if Troy was making moves on me.”
Bryce shook his head, like it couldn’t have been more obvious. “I wasn’t the only one who saw it.”
Maybe it was Bryce’s imagination. Maybe his dislike of Troy twisted the way he saw things tonight. That had to be it. She thought she had done a great job of putting Brandi and Troy together. They were a good fit. But she didn’t argue with Bryce. They obviously didn’t see it the same way. Eryn sunk lower in her seat and scowled.
Bryce was silent as they pulled into their driveway and waited for the garage door to slide up. Whatever it was that was bothering him, it was because of her. Eryn knew he was going to retreat to whatever place he needed to go to be away from her emotionally.
“I’m sorry. I won’t ask you to do this again.” She wanted to touch him, to bring him back, but she knew it was already too late.
“Good.” Bryce shut off the car and continued to stare out the windshield. He waited until the garage door slid shut before turning to her. Though the anger had dimmed somewhat, his eyes held something that bristled her nerves. He opened his mouth to say something, but apparently thought better of it. Instead he leaned over and kissed her. Hard. It was almost dangerous the way he held her face to his, unyielding fingers threaded in her hair, demanding she meet his passion. His tongue swept inside her mouth, seeking hers.
She winced at the pressure of his lips and his demanding intrusion, but didn’t fight him. She wasn’t about to stop him now after what she put him through this evening.
His breath became ragged as a surge of intensity overcame him. Grabbing her hand he guided it to his growing erection and pressured her fingers to wrap around it.
“Shit.” He abruptly pushed her away and in one swift motion shouldered open the car door and got out, flinging it closed behind him.
In confused silence, Eryn watched Bryce skim around the front of the car, his eyes never leaving hers.
Pausing at the hood, he turned to face her fully. Polished to savage perfection, dressed in head-to-toe black, his gleaming reflection off the car doubled his presence within the confines of the garage. Straight black hair framed a face with smoky eyes that voiced: You are mine.
Eryn shivered under the glare that pierced her through the windshield, pinning her back to the soft leather seat. Tonight pushed all the wrong buttons in him, she thought, and had thrown him into possessive overload. Hot pins of dread pricked their way up the back of her neck.
The length of the hood was hardly an effective buffer against this intense, focused, dominating male,
who seemed to be contemplating his next move. She instinctively gripped the door handle when he strode with purpose to her side of the car and wrenched the door open.
He gripped her arm and pulled her out, slamming the door behind her. A solitary moment was all she had to watch the lines around his eyes and mouth harden before the overhead bulb quit, draping them in darkness.
A soft humph escaped her mouth when Bryce pushed her against the car and delivered another punishing kiss, his tongue tangling with hers and drawing it deeper into his mouth.
He draped her arms around the back of his neck, slid his hands over her shoulders, down her back, and closed his palms on her ass, squeezing, pulling her hard against his bulging shaft, shifting his hips in small erotic thrusts.
Eryn could hardly breathe. It felt like he was sucking the life out of her, stealing the air from her lungs. She was smothered by his need to possess her. Protesting was out of the question. She was no match for this kind of intensity. He overwhelmed each and every one of her senses. Her mind fought against this primal taking, but her body was embarrassingly aroused.
He backed up, pulling her along with him and turned her around, yanking her back against him. The thin silk of her dress did nothing to protect her from his rough caresses, the kneading of her breasts, and the plucking of her nipples to evoke a response. And, against her will, they responded, straining against the fabric of her dress.
She closed her eyes against he pain of his teeth raking and biting her neck and shoulders. An agonizing moan, part frustration, part ecstasy, slipped from her mouth. In a matter of seconds, he had her dress hiked up around her waist. His arm was a vice around her waist as he shoved his hand into her panties, fingered apart the soft folds, and caressed the wetness inside.
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