She knew Kyle must have thought so, too, for he suddenly pulled his lips away. “I want to taste you, Moonwitch. Give your nipples to me…now.”
His husky command shocked and thrilled her. Obediently, with trembling hands, Selena complied, drawing down the lowcut bodice of her gown, baring her breasts to her husband’s hot gaze.
“That’s good,” he murmured, “but not good enough.”
When Selena stared at him in bewilderment, Kyle met her gaze with a bland expression that was at odds with the smoldering gleam in his eyes. “I can’t reach, you see,” he murmured helpfully. “Offer your breasts to me.”
Feeling her cheeks flood with color, Selena hesitated. But desire overcame modesty, and a heartbeat later she cupped her fingers under the swell of her breasts, pushing them up, craving the heat of his mouth.
But when he bent his head, he turned his lips aside, instead, brushing the sensitive right nipple with his cheek. The peak was already hard and distended, and the rasping contact sent a streaking heat shuddering through Selena. She whimpered in spite of her vow not to make a sound.
“What do you want me to do next, Moonwitch?”
“What…do you mean?”
“Do you want me to kiss your breasts?”
She did, but she couldn’t make herself say so.
“Do you want me to touch you there with my tongue?” Unhurriedly, Kyle flicked his tongue over the taut bud. Selena clenched her jaw at the exquisite torment. “Come now,” he chided when she didn’t reply, “do you want me to suck on your nipples?” With deliberate slowness, he closed his lips over the tip and tugged.
“Kyle…you’re tormenting me.”
“Do you want me to—”
“Yes!” she gasped.
“Then say it.”
“Kyle…”
“Say it.”
“Yes… I want… you to… kiss me there.”
And finally he did, his lips and tongue and even teeth carrying out the delightful torment he had promised, giving her as much pleasure as she could possibly stand. And except for a soft pant or two, she endured it all in silence, conscious of his accusation—until his sensitive fingers found their way beneath her skirts and discovered the warmth of her below. When he cupped the rise of her silky curls at the juncture of her thighs, Selena quivered, and when his hand moved between her legs, seeking and caressing, her hushed moan was audible in the quiet darkness.
“See,” Kyle murmured, a smile in his voice, “you do carry on.”
Selena opened her eyes abruptly. It stung her pride that he was so right.
“Perhaps,” she countered with breathless indignation as she met his gaze, “I could make you carry on.”
He cocked his head in speculation, his eyes glimmering. “I imagine you could. You’re certainly welcome to try.”
It was a challenge Selena couldn’t ignore. Stiffening her spine, she proceeded to remove her gloves, one finger at a time.
“This looks serious,” Kyle commented with mock alarm. “Are you declaring war?”
“Indeed,” she answered without hesitation, and let her gloves fall to the floor. Slowly then, and with great daring, she looped her arms around his neck, leaning forward and deliberately pressing her breasts against his chest.
But when she would have kissed him, Kyle drew his head back. “What if I surrender first?”
“No, I won’t allow it.”
Startled by the husky determination in her voice and the seductive smile on her lips, Kyle stared at her. Selena had been a gently bred lady when he married her, a mere innocent, but just now her eyes held a woman’s promise, provocative and fascinating.
He had tutored her better than he knew, for while Selena’s soft lips played with his, her clever fingers sought and found his rigid arousal beneath his pantaloons, curving around the pulsing crest. With exquisite slowness, she stroked him, watching with satisfaction as Kyle closed his eyes and let his head fall back in surrender. It was gratifying to see him clench his jaw in an effort to control himself, to feel his powerfully muscled body tremble at her touch.
It wasn’t long, either, till she gained her original objective. Several moments later, when her delicate fingers slipped even lower to cup the softer flesh at the base of his magnificent shaft, Kyle groaned.
“Selena, love,” he said on a gasp, “if you keep this up, neither of us will be able to return to the ball without changing clothes first, and then all our guests will know precisely what we’ve been up to.”
She should have been worried, but instead she laughed, a low, husky, triumphant sound, too pleased with the sudden discovery of her new powers to abandon her sensuous assault just yet. It was left to Kyle to retain a vestige of discretion and sanity for both their sakes.
With struggling determination, he grasped Selena’s waist and lifted her up, settling her again in one skillful motion astride him. And as her wide-eyed gaze focused on his face, he thrust upward slowly, seeking the very depths of her sensuality. Her lips parted in a soft gasp while her back arched, bringing her tantalizing breasts closer, the rose-pink nipples excited and turgid. Kyle could almost hear his wildly beating heart quicken in response.
Fighting his urgency, he inhaled a sharp breath and surged upward into her clinging heat, luxuriating in the feel of her hot velvet pulsing around him, all the while wondering at the incredible, overwhelming desire he felt for her. How was it possible that with all the women he had known before, this passion he felt with Selena was so achingly new? How could she arouse such hot longing and compelling delight in him, such searing pleasure and lavish satisfaction, without even trying?
He watched the quicksilver light play over her delicate features and pondered the questions in one small but insistent corner of his mind—and came to one definite conclusion. He was skilled enough to make Selena’s body want him, but that wasn’t enough for him any longer. He wanted her to need him, to ache for him the way he did for her.
Suddenly Kyle was all seriousness, no longer feeling the slightest urge to prolong what was torment for them both. He took her mouth, his kisses violent and hot, with the same demanding intensity that he took her body. Crushing her soft, silken curves into him, he rose to meet her restless ardor, pressing her hips fiercely down as he swelled within her. And as the first convulsive shudder shook him, and he felt her fingers tighten on his shoulders in frantic response, Kyle captured Selena’s cries of delight with his mouth, aware even in his turbulent passion of the need for circumspection. Still, he couldn’t suppress his own rasping groans as she carried him with her to the sublime, dizzying heights of ecstasy.
A long, exquisite moment later, Selena collapsed on his chest, panting softly, sated and fulfilled. His own breathing labored, his racing heartbeat echoing hers, Kyle basked in the same repleteness. His hands gently stroked her back as he held her close, his cheek against her hair, his own body languid with sensual pleasure and contentment.
It felt natural and right to hold her like this—the thought floated through Kyle’s mind when he could once again think. Odd that once he’d wanted to be free of Selena. He understood now that he’d never be free of her…that he didn’t want to be. Somehow, without his ever realizing it, Selena had become immeasurably important in his life.
Yet even as he contemplated this new notion, the murmur of voices reached him. One was female and pleading; the other male and determined.
They were rapidly growing closer, Kyle realized with a silent oath. Selena heard the voices a moment later and went rigid in his embrace, but when she tried to sit up, Kyle’s arms clamped around her. It was too late now to make a graceful exit, and any mad scramble to settle their clothing or alter their compromising position would only draw attention.
“Don’t panic,” Kyle whispered as he slid Selena off his lap to the bench beside him and quietly began adjusting the bodice of her gown.
He was fastening the buttons of his pantaloons when he recognized the voice of his sister Lydia. When he reali
zed the other was Tanner Parkington’s, Kyle stiffened in outrage. It was one thing for him to bring Selena out here; she was his wife. It was quite another for an impoverished youth to seduce his innocent sister after he had been warned away.
Kyle clenched his fists as fury surged through him, but when he would have leaped to his feet, Selena’s hand sought his arm and stayed him. In the moment that he’d hesitated, she had realized the young couple were not bent on lovemaking but rather on arguing. And when they paused just outside the summerhouse, silhouetted against the moonlit sky, she could clearly make out the subject of their argument.
“You don’t love me,” Lydia was saying petulantly. “You don’t really want to marry me.”
“Of course I love you,” Tanner replied, an edge of frustration in his calm voice, “and of course I want to marry you. How can you doubt it? You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, and the kindest, and the sweetest—”
“If you did, you would at least consider running away with me.”
“Lydia, please, be sensible. We can’t elope. Your brother was right. I couldn’t support you, not yet, not until I find steady work. I couldn’t even offer you a place to live. My uncle has taken my family in only begrudgingly, but he would balk for sure if I tried to foist a wife on him.”
“But I wouldn’t be at all expensive. I can be frugal, Tanner, I can!”
“I know you would, my love, or at least you would try, but I couldn’t allow you to make such a sacrifice. Perhaps it’s my pride, but I want to be able to give you things—pretty gowns and whatnot. It won’t be long, I promise.”
“It will,” Lydia replied, sounding near tears. “Kyle said a year at least, and then only if you have an income. And you told me how difficult it is for a gentleman to find employment.”
“Well, it isn’t for lack of trying. I just haven’t had any success yet. It would be easier if I had a trade. All I know is planting. But I’m considering trying to apprentice out as a carpenter.”
“That could take years!”
“Lydia, don’t cry, I beg you. Come here.”
There was a soft sniff as Tanner put a comforting arm around Lydia’s shoulders. Within the summerhouse, Selena felt Kyle tense beside her, and again she pressed his arm in warning.
Kyle didn’t move, but he ground his teeth as he watched Lydia lift her face to Tanner’s. “Tanner, will you kiss me?”
“Lydia, I can’t. It’s not honorable. I shouldn’t even be speaking to you. We’re betraying your brother’s trust as it is.”
“I don’t care. And you wouldn’t either, if you loved me. Maybe you’ll be sorry if I find someone else to marry.”
Tanner grasped her shoulders. “No, you’ve got to promise you’ll wait for me.” The urgency in his voice must have communicated itself to the girl, for she sighed heavily and murmured “Oh, Tanner,” before burying her face in his shoulder. A moment later, she suddenly drew back. “I know!” she exclaimed, sounding hopeful. “I’ll find a position. Perhaps Mr. Chandler would allow me to work in his store like Mrs. Whitfield does.”
“No, I won’t have it,” the young man replied, putting a period to that notion at once. “Just try a little to be brave, my love. We’ll find a way. Now come, I’d best return you to the ball before you’re missed. We’ve already been gone too long.”
“No one will miss us. Everyone is either eating or dancing, and they’ll continue for hours.”
“Lydia,” Tanner warned.
Lydia sighed again but took his arm obediently and allowed him to lead her away from the summerhouse. When they were gone, Selena glanced uneasily up at Kyle. She was surprised to find his expression thoughtful.
“You don’t mean to call him out, do you?” she asked.
Kyle met her gaze. “As it happens, I was considering something quite different. What would you think about offering him the position as factor of Montrose?”
“I think,” Selena said with a slow smile, “such a solution would benefit you both.”
Kyle nodded. “As a planter’s son, Parkington has the farming experience I lack. And he has far greater sense than I credited him with.”
“And honor, as well. He would make Lydia a good husband.”
“Oh, no you don’t, Moonwitch. I’ll admit I like the lad, and he seems to deal with her better than I do, but I’m not willing just yet to give him Lydia’s hand. He’ll have to prove himself first.”
Selena shuddered. “Thank heaven he is too much a gentleman to elope with her.”
“I don’t know about that. If Parkington were willing to consider an elopement, I might give him my blessing, just to get Lydia off my hands.”
“Kyle, you don’t mean it!”
“No.” He smiled in fond remembrance. “Actually, Lydia surprised me, offering to find a position herself. Perhaps there’s hope for her yet.”
“Well, at least you don’t mean to take Mr. Parkington to task for merely refusing to elope with her.”
“I couldn’t—” Kyle’s grin was full of mischief and affection as he reached out and ran a languid forefinger along her collarbone “—for then I’d have to acknowledge being here with you. And if you think your parrot raised some eyebrows, you can imagine the scandal if it became known I’d been ravishing my beautiful wife.”
Selena thought about protesting his choice of words, but when Kyle’s finger dipped between her breasts, the thought fled. “When must you return to town?” she asked, holding his gaze.
“I promised Angel I would be there tonight when the ball ended.”
“But you don’t have to go just yet?”
Her tone was breathless and entirely unreserved, with even a hint of eagerness. Kyle’s eyebrows lifted. This was his totally modest, straitlaced wife? “No, I don’t have to go just yet,” he said, amused.
“Good.” Sliding her fingers through the heavy, dark waves of Kyle’s hair, Selena leaned forward and ran her tongue lightly over the surface of his lips. “Because I seem to remember an unsettled question as to which one of us ‘carries on’ the loudest.”
Kyle laughed, and the laughter stayed inside him as he surrendered gracefully and gave himself over to the lovely siren in his arms.
Chapter Sixteen
Late June, the beginning of full summer. Long days of sweltering shade and lingering twilight. The smell of fresh-scythed grass and baking earth, of waxy magnolias and sweet, sweet jasmine. The night sounds of croaking frogs and chirping cicadas. The melodic trill of a mockingbird. Selena grew to love the now-familiar scents and sounds of her new home, in spite of the merciless heat that was unrelieved by the trade winds she was accustomed to on her island.
Life at Montrose was quieter after the ball. Or perhaps, Selena decided, it merely seemed so with Bea and Thaddeus gone. They had departed two days afterward for their town house in Natchez to a chorus of sobs and regrets, even though they would only be a few miles away.
Selena missed Bea’s good-natured chatter, for while she had the plantation and the girls to occupy her time, she saw little of Kyle. During the week following the ball, he was busier than ever. When he’d offered Tanner Parkington the position as factor, the young man had accepted with such eagerness that Kyle thought he might have to restrain Parkington physically to keep him from sleeping out in the fields. And in addition to establishing Parkington as factor, Kyle still had nightly duties as guardian of Heaven’s Gate.
And yet the moments Selena did share with him gave her hope, for amazingly he seemed entirely willing to forget he had been forced to marry her.
Selena was fervently looking forward to the time when Kyle could at least spend his nights at home. But as it happened, the day Angel’s cousin arrived from Nashville to assume responsibility as chief bruiser at Heaven’s Gate, Jeremiah Whitfield passed away.
When Bea sent a note to Montrose informing them, Selena drove into town to offer her help.
“Danielle is taking it as well as can be expected,” Bea whispered in greetin
g. They were sitting with several other neighbors in Whitfield’s small, shabby front room, which doubled as parlor and kitchen. “She looks paler than usual but seems to be holding up.”
Selena agreed when Danielle emerged from the back room, where she had been helping to lay out her husband’s body. Her white skin seemed so translucent as to resemble fine porcelain, contrasting starkly with her black gown and the deep red of her hair and giving her the kind of unearthly beauty that was usually attributed to saints and martyrs.
But in this case Selena had no difficulty repressing the jealousy that she sometimes felt in Danielle’s presence, for her heart was aching with sorrow and pity.
“I am so very sorry about your husband,” Selena murmured as she pressed Danielle’s hand.
“No, please…” Danielle replied. “No one of compassion could have wished him to linger.”
“Is there anything I can do to help you?” Selena asked. “Would you like me to take Clay for a few days?”
Danielle shook her head. “Thank you, but I think everything is being done. Orrin Chandler is looking after Clay. But I would be grateful if you would—” She broke off, her voice suddenly choking with tears. “If you would attend the funeral.”
“Of course,” Selena replied, realizing her presence would help lay to rest any rumors about Danielle and Kyle. She wished there was more she could do. But Danielle wasn’t friendless; she had neighbors and distant cousins who had gathered around her to lend comfort. And to insist on providing support when it wasn’t needed, Selena knew, would make the situation more awkward.
She and Bea stayed only a short while longer before taking their leave. Selena gave Bea a lift to her home and then drove on alone.
She met Kyle on the road just outside of town. He was riding his big roan gelding, and his expression was grim as he drew up alongside the gig. It was obvious he had received the message she had left for him about Jeremiah’s death.
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