The Mission (Clairmont Series Novel Book 2)

by L. J. Wilson

  Evie rushed inside and to the edge of the fireplace. She didn’t look at him, staring hard into a glow of smoky wood. “Tell me I can be here and we can just talk. Please. Promise me.” She wondered if she might get through this without eye contact. In fact, a blindfold might be a fitting solution. In her head she’d been able to handle Bash. She wasn’t as sure about the flesh and blood man. He was already invading her senses—sight and smell. Earlier, the sound of his voice had sunk hard into her heart. Light flickered from behind, his shadow looming as he lit a lantern. Evie clung to mental fortitude. This could be no more than a necessary conversation. “Just promise me,” she repeated, “We’ll only talk.”

  “Back in the alley,” he said. “You and I, we determined there’s nothing to talk about.”

  “That’s not true.” Evie’s arm flared out, fingers splayed so stiffly they trembled. Her unbraided hair fell forward, droplets of rain hanging like tiny globes of water on golden strands. “I do have something to say. I can’t let you leave here again thinking of me the way you do.”

  “Evie,” he said and she pinched her eyes shut. Instead of anger, she heard compassion. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to explain. I hate it, but I get it. Good Hope is your life. I know why you married Ezra.”

  She spun so fast her skirt licked the fire’s flames. “No you don’t.”

  “Yes, Evie…I do. You married Ezra because it’s what they planted in your head since the moment you could understand words. I’m no brainwashing expert, but I can put that much together. I never had a chance, and there was never a choice.”

  “Of course there was a choice,” she said, surprised by her own conviction. The wet shawl draped loosely about her and Evie shivered, tugging it tighter. “Before I left you that day, I’d stood right here and said I was going to tell Ezra I wouldn’t marry him. But you think I changed my mind the second I stepped away from you. You think what I felt wasn’t strong enough, that it couldn’t compare or compete with my life here.”

  “Isn’t that what happened? Not only did you marry Ezra, you stood at an altar and looked me right in the eye while you did it. That’s a damn convincing message.”

  “I…” Her mouth gaped, confounded by her own actions. How could she ever make him understand? “I… I see why you would think that.”

  “Great. So we’re on the same page.” Sebastian drew his hands to his waist. “And what? You snuck out of your bed, came by in the rain to twist the knife?”

  “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

  “Doesn’t sound that way.”

  “Bash,” she said, finally meeting his eyes. The green was as intense as she remembered—as if his eyes belonged on a wild animal. “I knew they were sending you away. Brother Creek told me.”

  Sebastian’s mouth bowed. “And that helps how? Did it make your decision easier? Thanks, Evie, but I’m not sure sharing or this little visit is helping.”

  “Just listen,” Evie said, pressing her hands into the space between them. “Brother Creek warned me that day, after I left you. He said you were in even greater peril than when you’d arrived in Good Hope. Did you not confess to me that your life was already in jeopardy?”

  He nodded.

  “Brother Creek said things were worse, that the best chance you had at survival was to accept Reverend Kane’s offer of protection. That traveling aboard a ship would keep you out of harm’s way.”

  “Protection? He told you that was the plan?”

  “Told me it was the only way to keep you alive.” She saw a look of confusion on Sebastian’s face. “It appears to have been the truth,” she said, waving her hand at him. “You’re alive. You’re… here.” Evie stepped closer to the flames, which seemed a safer choice than him.

  “Evie…” His lips pursed. “It’s not untrue, but it’s also not exactly the way it happened... or the deal I took. He, um… he left out a few details. Think about it. Nolan Creek had his own motivation for getting me out of Good Hope and your life. Why didn’t you come to me, talk to me before… ” He inched closer. “Jesus, Evie, I had a plan.”

  “A plan?”

  “Yes. A plan. Though it doesn’t matter now.”

  Evie could still see it, the pain he felt the day he left Good Hope. “I knew how I hurt you, marrying Ezra with you as my witness. I’d settled it in my mind that you’d hate me for the rest of your life—or for however long I mattered to you. I never thought you’d come back. I never thought I’d see you again.”

  “Seems like the joke’s on us.”

  She glanced at his sinewy frame. It was a face and a body that every part of Evie but her dreams had denied.

  “So after everything, here we are. Any idea what I’m supposed to do with that?”

  “No,” she said, determined to finish the conversation. “I only know I can’t let you leave Good Hope again believing I willingly chose Ezra over you. But in the alley, when you…”

  “When I kissed you,” he prodded.

  “When you did that,” she whispered. “I… well, it seemed…” Evie ran her fingertips over her lips. “It seemed as if nothing has changed for you. Is… is that true?”

  He frowned harder and nodded his head slightly.

  From beneath the shawl, a tremulous breath heaved from Evie’s chest. She shouldn’t have asked. It was better to think of him as having taken countless, faceless women to bed, though too painful to imagine that Sebastian might have fallen in love with just one. She nodded back. “Then I was right to come. I owe you this much. I can’t live the rest of my life letting you think that marrying Ezra was what I wanted. It was a choice, and one I don’t regret. No matter what else it’s done, it’s kept you alive.”

  “Evie…”

  Sebastian brushed a stray lock of hair from her damp face. She needed to go, but Evie couldn’t move. Just let me be with him… just for a moment… The feel of his fingertips on her face was so heavenly, so real. She reached, pressing her hand hard over his and drawing it tighter to her face.

  “Your marriage to him, to Ezra…”

  The tears from the alley welled and she squeezed his hand more firmly. “Ezra, he’s a good person,” she said, closing her eyes. “I can’t stand here and tell you he treats me in any way that would disparage him. It’s done, Bash. I can’t change what is. I won’t—”

  “But you don’t love him.”

  Her eyes fluttered open. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “The hell it doesn’t.”

  “It would be wiser for me to lie. I should tell you I’ve fallen madly in love with my husband.”

  “It’s not in you, Evie. You’re not capable of that kind of lie,” he said, his thumb brushing through a stream of tears. “I’m not sure how you’ve lived it for the past year and a half.”

  “Nights spent in a precarious bed, days reassuring myself it was best for everyone. But you’re right. I don’t love Ezra in that way.” She shrugged, fighting a fierce weight. “Surely there are worse lies to live.”

  “Tolerable,” he agreed. “Maybe even doable… if it wasn’t for one thing.”

  “What’s that?” she said, lost to the touch of his hand, knowing it was all she’d ever have of him.

  “The fact that you’re in love with someone else.”

  “I…” She released his hand, but he was quick to grab hold of it. “I’ve waited… I’ve prayed for the feeling to leave me, like an illness or the winter. But the moment I saw you tonight…” She shook her head. “It was more powerful than ever. I don’t understand how that’s possible, I—”

  Sebastian gathered her into a furious kiss. Reason and honor jammed on contact. Evie felt the shawl slip from her shoulders, felt compelled to kiss him back. Her closed fists from the alley opened, fingers digging longingly into his shoulders. It was the reality of a million dreams. Then she pushed away. “You promised. You said we could just talk.”

  “I didn’t promise you a damn thing.” Sebastian hands wove through her hair as a ge
ntler kiss met with her forehead. He tipped her chin upward, insisting that their eyes meet. “Tell me you don’t want this, Evie. That you don’t want us. You stand here and say it.”

  “It… it doesn’t matter what I want. I made a vow. It can never be undone, you know that. What we feel doesn’t give us permission to—”

  “The hell it doesn’t,” he said, all but shaking her by the shoulders. “You’re no more bound to Ezra than I am to a life without you. Circumstance is keeping us apart—not a vow you made out of fear.”

  “We see it differently.”

  “Let me show you another point of view.”

  He was so close Evie’s tears barely fit between them. Inside, every part of her whirled. She couldn’t control the onslaught of emotion. Sebastian kissed her again and Evie felt the undoing of rules and the promise she’d made. That life seemed powerless in the confines of the cabin. Sebastian claimed her—his mouth, his hands, his mind. Passion erupted, more manic than the storm outside.

  Working the buttons of her blouse, Sebastian slid it and her skirt away, all of it falling at his command. He kicked the garments aside, and a warm flush settled over Evie as his gaze grazed her barely clothed body. A last moment of trepidation flashed through her mind, and for a second they were silent. She bent her neck forward, her head burrowing into his chest. Their hands twined together. “God help me,” she whispered. Her breathing was so wrought, so unsteady, Evie thought she might pass out.

  “Evie,” he said huskily. “I’m half out of my mind for asking, but if this is only going to end up driving you further from me. If it makes things worse…”

  For better or worse, it no longer mattered. Evie answered, not with words but actions. Her trembling fingers moved down the buttons of Sebastian’s shirt, stripping away the last of her apprehensions. She pressed her mouth to his chest, washing his hard body in delicate kisses. As she undid his belt buckle, Sebastian unhooked her bra, saying something about how simple, white cotton never looked so sexy. Evie smiled shyly. Sexy was not a word she’d ever considered in this regard. Sebastian cupped his hand around her bottom, and he drew her body to his, his hardness pulsing between them.

  “Let that be the slightest indication of how much I want you.”

  Evie inched back, stroking her hand over the velvety smoothness of a taut erection. She remembered the way she’d pleased him once before, thinking it would happen again. But Sebastian seemed to have other ideas, steering them toward the feather bed. The back of her calf met with the mattress, and Evie realized she was trembling. But he was right there, steadying her mind and body. “Do you know how many times,” she said, “in how many ways I’ve thought of us… Had to think of us to get through…”

  “Don’t say it.” The softness vanished and Sebastian pulled her close. “I don’t want to know how you thought of us to get through nights with him. And I promise you,” he said, letting go and shucking aside the rest of his clothes, “no matter what’s in your head, what you might be telling yourself, this will be more than a sacrificial memory.”

  Evie wasn’t sure what he meant, but the time for questions had passed. A moment later they were on the bed. Sebastian loomed over her, Evie studying the hard body and muscular frame of her would-be lover. Sebastian was a captivating sight but also a telling story. She wanted to know about all the little scars—knife fight or beating? She saw a new mark on his neck, a fresh scar. Had she come closer than she’d feared to losing him forever? But he was there now, and she responded to reality, locking her arms around his broad shoulders. She buried her nose in the scent of him—a soapy, brawny maleness, suntanned skin that tasted of unholy adventure.

  His mouth moved along her body, his tongue circling her breasts, delicately suckling each one. The tenderness of his movements surprised her, his hands drifting in between her legs. It was all so natural, the way her body encouraged his, legs shifting apart and inviting the deft entry of his fingers. She gasped at the exquisite intrusion, anxious to know how it would feel to have all of him inside her.

  But he kept on a downward progression, Evie feeling a flutter as his mouth passed over her belly and a wave of luxurious sensations overtook her. A moment later, their eyes locked from a curious angle with Sebastian’s mouth buried deep between delicate folds of flesh. Her heart raced at the intimacy while a building of sweet tension overtook her. A growl of satisfaction emanated from his throat.

  She reached for him, but her hand dropped, digging deep into the tangle of sheet, Evie tumbling into a valley of passion. She couldn’t breathe, she lost focus. She nearly panicked, needing to know Sebastian was there. That this wasn’t an indulgent dream— the kind that had woken Evie over and over only to find him nowhere but her imagination. The feeling was shattering, and she could barely catch her breath as his mouth began a reverse journey, shushing her with kisses that trailed across her stomach and breasts. Longingly, she touched him, admiring his black wavy hair, the breadth of his body as it made love to hers. She whispered, “I’m not sure I can take much more of that…”

  He smiled, which Evie saw as a rare thing, perhaps meant just for her. “You can, Evie,” he said, poised over her. “You will.”

  Evie traced his chin with her fingertips, her brow wrinkling as she touched the new scar. But as her eyes met his, she bit hard into her lip anticipating what came next. While she’d dreamt of the tiniest details, she did not envision anything so defining. Her gaze skimmed from his chest to his shoulders and the strain of muscles in his arms as Sebastian pushed into her. As his steely shaft drove into her, Evie slipped into a new hollow of emotion, though it was the shared feelings that captivated her. This was sexual and powerful and what she’d longed for, in her mind and in her heart. Her body was merely awarded the physical pleasure as Sebastian’s thrusts grew more aggressive. When his mouth kissed hers, Evie was startled, the taste of herself as unlikely as the scene. He hooked his arm around her leg, opening her wider to him. Evie’s heart thundered as her fingers dug into his muscular back.

  “Evie,” he whispered. “I can’t come… I shouldn’t…” His eyes closed as if talking took any reserve strength.

  She only pulled him tighter. “It doesn’t matter—not for me. Nothing will happen…” She didn’t finish the thought as Sebastian succumbed to her suggestion. Evie felt the tremor of pleasure consume him as he came with a breathtaking shudder.

  Afterward, they talked for hours. Not about the future or anything that required Evie to commit to leaving this life, or more to the point, her husband. Sebastian had to trust she’d come to the right conclusion. Instead, he told her a version of his life for the past eighteen months, working on the South American bound freighter and explaining that he served as the brothers’ liaison, negotiating the locals and rough terrain. He didn’t speak of real dangers or Reverend Kane’s deceitful role. Sebastian didn’t want that bastard anywhere near the bed they lay in.

  Evie reciprocated with what he guessed was an edited version of her life, not speaking of Ezra but only of her life in Good Hope. It probably wasn’t too far from the truth. While Ezra sailed often and was gone from Good Hope for stretches of time, Sebastian had only thought of his homecomings. Each time Ezra disembarked in the Philadelphia port, Sebastian watched from the deck. The fair-haired slip of a man who would go home and make love to his wife. The thought sunk hard into his head, and Sebastian held tighter to Evie. Would she wake up tomorrow and see herself as nothing but Ezra’s adulteress wife?

  He’d forced the thought away and made love to her again—more intently than before, enough to make Evie cry out his name. When exhaustion finally overcame Sebastian, a smile crept onto his face— the moment sleep wove through him and Evie whispered, “I love you,” into his dreams.

  When the sun rose, Evie wasn’t beside him. He wasn’t surprised she was gone, only that she’d slipped from the bed unbeknownst to him. Sebastian wanted to make certain she got home safely, undetected by the watchful eyes of Good Hope. Instead, it was a br
isk April breeze that went with him to breakfast. Apparently, during planting season, morning meals were communal. Evie was late to the fellowship hall, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Reverend Kane and the others. Sebastian fought the urge to grab her by the hand and run like the devil from Good Hope. He kept his distance. The two traded glances as she hurried about her chores. Brother Creek poked Sebastian in the back.

  “Reverend Kane says to make use of you while you’re here. You’ll work with the brothers today, planting.”

  Sebastian swallowed down scrambled eggs and home fries. He guessed keeping the brothers alive wasn’t enough to earn him room and board. “Fine. But my farming skills are a little nonexistent.”

  “If you prefer, there’s fencing that needs mending.”

  He wiped his hands on a napkin and sipped the last of his coffee. “Lead the way.” As the two men left, Sebastian and Evie traded a fast glance.

  Nolan Creek leaned in and whispered, “I think I might have been wrong about lust. I think keeping you and the young Mrs. Kane apart is best for all of us.” He held the door as Sebastian passed through. “Perhaps best for her husband more than anyone.”

  Evie had been late to breakfast because she was unable to move from the chair in her and Ezra’s cottage. She’d dressed but hadn’t bathed. The scent of Sebastian had soaked into her skin, and she refused to wash it away. The guilt she’d anticipated had risen like the sun with her. She hadn’t been wrong about that, but not entirely right. While there was guilt there was no regret.

  After breakfast, Evie returned to the chair, immobilized. She didn’t move for hours, watching shadows shift in the tiny cottage. Time had faded into early evening when Hannah showed up. She demanded to know why Evie had been late that morning and where’d she been all day. She quietly replied, “I’ve been here,” and Hannah grew more concerned. No member of the Fathers of the Right spent an entire day in solitude, not without a serious reason or at the Reverend’s direction. If it was neither, Hannah jumped to the conclusion that Evie hadn’t felt well. Perhaps a sign of morning sickness, she suggested, giddy at the prospect.