The slate-blue gown was undoubtedly one of Esperanza’s finest, the black lace overlay spoke of Spanish nobility, and hot Spanish nights. Now that Juliet was wearing the bloody thing, all Carver wanted to do was slide the capped sleeve down over her shoulder, as slowly and wickedly as he could.
Damnation, he wanted to kill Major Nye for sending him on this mission. Protecting Lady Blade was a challenge in itself, but who would protect her from his own carnal desires?
And if Carver gave in to them, would Lady Blade use them to her own advantage? It wouldn’t be the first time a beautiful woman used her feminine wiles as a weapon against a red-blooded man like him. Yet, so far, Juliet had done nothing so obvious as to try and seduce him. Perhaps she didn’t need to. Carver was already falling under her spell, with little effort on her part.
Where her beauty was once fierce, now it had changed to something more vulnerably delicate. Where her eyes had once flashed like steel, they now glowed like the depths of a mysterious ocean. Where her manner had seemed challenging and combative, it now seemed powerfully, elegantly sensual. Now that it was unleashed, Juliet’s true feminine power easily dwarfed that of the well-honed soldier and spy which she had worked so hard to promote.
The truth was, Carver didn’t know which woman was more dangerous.
But something told him he would find out.
The only question was, as the saying went, would he live to tell the tale?
At this point, he cared not if he did or didn’t. All he wanted now, was her. Lady Blade, Juliet Reed, perhaps she was neither of those two personas anymore. Perhaps she herself would discover yet another woman inside her, one who had never been allowed the freedom to truly live.
Carver was certain of one thing… Juliet Reed, or Lady Blade, or whatever she chose to call herself, had perfected the illusion of a brave and fearless spy. But it was nothing more than a character she had created to hide from the person she feared the most…herself.
Esperanza must have been talking to her about such things. The beautiful Spanish lady had a bald way of speaking which could cut to the quick, exposing the heart of the matter, whether you liked it or not. Judging by Juliet’s changed demeanor, Carver guessed Esperanza had carved out a sizeable chink in Juliet’s armor.
Now that there was a breach in Lady Blade’s defences, Carver would be stupid not to take advantage of it.
Soon, he would be behind enemy lines. And in this case, his beautiful enemy had no idea what Carver had in store for her.
* * *
Later in the evening, Esperanza and her sister laid out a magnificent feast for their guests. The group ate outside at a long table beside the stone farmhouse, with candles and hanging lanterns creating a magical glow in the Spanish summer night.
Perhaps the beautiful gown Esperanza had loaned to Juliet held a magic all its own, for it had woven an undeniable spell about her. During the dinner of roasted chicken, hearty vegetables, bread and butter, Juliet had marveled at the delicious taste of every morsel. Had food ever tasted this good, she wondered? Had wine ever tasted so decadent?
She felt like one who had been in the desert with nothing to eat or drink for a very long time, until now. But yet again, over these past years in the war, food had become something necessary only for sustenance, not for pleasure. Her sense of taste had faded, as had her capacity for laughter and joy.
Now, here she was breaking bread with the enemy, clapping along as Private Tanner played his mouth organ and Sergeant Hackett sang a rousing tune. She even found herself laughing at their funny and entertaining stories.
In a word, she was quite shockingly relaxed.
That was a sensation Juliet hadn’t felt in a very long time.
There was another sensation which she hadn’t felt in a very long time, as well, and though she was still trying to deny it, her usual defences were failing.
Desire.
Heat.
Yearning.
She wanted to blame it on the hearty red wine, but she couldn’t. There was something else going on here, and it was more powerful than the effect of alcohol, for it originated in her veins, in her soul.
“Sing us a love song, Hackett,” MacAuley said, winking. “For the newlyweds!”
“Newlyweds?” Esperanza asked. “Who are they?”
“Captain Adams and Miss Reed,” Tanner replied, grinning. “Though if Hackett is right, she’s Mrs. Adams, now.”
“I can hardly wait to hear this story,” Esperanza said, pouring herself some more wine. “For if that is true, then we must have a real wedding celebration.”
“And a wedding night,” MacAuley added, setting off a round of hoots and hollers among the men.
Carver glanced at Juliet then, a protective light burning in his eyes.
“We are not married,” he said, forcefully. “At least I don’t think we are.”
“It was a hand-fast marriage,” Hackett explained, proudly, “just like we do back home. Ye see, Captain Adams asked me to tie him and the prisoner, Miss Reed, together—in order to prevent her from escaping, I reckon. So, I followed the Captain’s orders, but not before warnin’ him that in some parts of Great Britain, all that’s required to declare yerself married to another is to tie your hands together. Ye don’t even have to say any vows. I’m here to tell you that the two of them spent the night sleeping on the ground next to each other, their hands tied snugly together. If that isn’t a start to a healthy marriage, I don’t know what is.”
“Captain Adams is right, we’re not married,” Juliet asserted.
Esperanza considered that. “Would it be so bad if you were?”
Juliet opened her mouth to reply, but strangely, nothing came out.
“I mean that for both of you,” Esperanza said with a grin. “It wouldn’t be the first time such a thing happened in the midst of a senseless war.”
“That’s what I say,” Hackett added. “Thank you, Esperanza, for validating my position.”
She nodded, sagely. “So, Sergeant Hackett says you are married, and the bride and groom in question say they are not. It is either true, or it is not true, but either way, we should celebrate. For tomorrow, you will all have to return to the war that waits for you like a hungry dog. Tomorrow, death may come for you. But tonight, you are safe from its claws. Tonight, the war has stopped. It no longer exists. There is only this place, this table, and this food, these songs and laughter. We will celebrate that, and so much more. Even if this marriage is only a fairy tale, we will honor all it stands for. Raise your glasses, my friends. Let us make a toast to love. For even in the darkest hours of war, love will always win.”
Hackett wiped his eye and raised his glass. “Aww, now why did ye have to go and make such a heart-rending speech, Esperanza?”
Some of the other men were clearing their throats uncomfortably, but they raised their glasses, too.
But when Juliet looked at Carver, she saw him staring at her with quiet pride, and something deeper. No one else had ever looked at her as this man did—not just with desire, but with understanding. It was as if he could see right into her soul. It was as if he always could.
Then, his mouth curved into a gorgeous grin. He raised his glass and said, “To love. May it always endure.”
“To love!” the men joined in, raising their glasses and drinking.
Before she knew what she was about, Juliet said, “To love.” She took a sip of the ruby red wine and relished the taste and sensation of it on her tongue.
Esperanza was right. Tomorrow, they would leave for Villarosa. They still had a dangerous journey ahead of them, and they could all be dead before night fell.
But tonight was different. Tonight, Juliet wore a beautiful gown, had good food to eat and wine to drink. Tonight, even though she was in the company of enemy soldiers, she was finally safe from the war that had raged these past years. It had kept her captive more effectively than this group of British soldiers ever could.
How ironic that Juliet’s f
irst taste of real freedom was while being held as a prisoner by the enemy?
Those lines were blurred, now.
Juliet was certain they would never be so easily defined again.
“Music!” Esperanza said, clapping her hands. “Let us have a wedding dance. Will you sing for us again, Sergeant Hackett?”
He stepped forward and rubbed his palms together. “I’m afraid I don’t know much that’s appropriate for a fancy wedding celebration, but Tanner and I will keep ye entertained and on yer feet. Tanner, let’s do, “The Vicar’s Daughter.”
Private Tanner pulled out his mouth organ and played the opening chords, keeping the beat by stamping his boot on the ground. Hackett clapped along and began belting out a ribald song about a strapping young farmer who marries a pure and innocent vicar’s daughter.
“… And when she saw da ting he carried down between his knees,
He kissed her and he told her it was only for to please!”
The men hooted and hollered, kicking up their heels and dancing arm in arm about the candlelit yard.
Juliet clapped along as well, laughing at the daring lyrics as Hackett sung.
It was then she looked up to see Carver standing beside her, his eyes penetrating and seductive. He held out a strong hand. “It’s not a ballroom, but on the day we met, you promised me a dance. I said I would hold you to that, and I meant what I said. Will you dance with me, now?”
A day ago, she would have refused him, would have thought Carver Adams as only the enemy. And yet, it seemed like a lifetime ago. How had everything changed so quickly?
Juliet blamed Esperanza. She was like a wise woman in an ancient folk tale, seeing and saying things no one else had ever dared to, and bringing unwelcome truths to the surface.
Like creatures with a life-force all their own, those truths refused to be silent again. They would not be forced back into the depths of Juliet’s caged soul.
Juliet regarded the man beside her. She marveled at the masculine planes of his face, the sensual mouth, the brilliant green eyes that saw absolutely everything. He was her captor, her enemy, and yet, she would willingly place her hand in his.
“Yes, Captain,” she answered. “I will dance with you.”
She saw the glimmer of pleasure in his eyes as he accepted her hand. He led her over to a flat patch of grass that now served as a dance floor. As there were not enough dancers to perform a proper reel, Carver led Juliet in a variation of it, with MacAuley and Lieutenant Pitt dancing a haphazard version of their own.
To Juliet, it didn’t matter. She was having too much fun. Carver hooked his arm through hers and they skipped in a circle as Hackett’s bawdy song went into its twelfth verse.
Esperanza grabbed her sister, Beatriz, her skirts twirling about her ankles as she spun the two of them in a circle.
Hackett and Tanner barely took a breath before starting into another song about a randy pirate and a convent full of nuns.
They danced and danced, until Juliet was breathless from it all. All of a sudden, it struck her that she didn’t want this night to end. She wanted to remain here in this magical place, with music and good food, and laughter.
And him.
Carver Adams.
She wasn’t sure if it was the wine, the warm evening, or the giddiness from dancing that was affecting her, but it seemed that with each moment that ticked by, Carver became more and more sinfully gorgeous.
As if reading her mind, he passed Juliet a cup of cool water. She accepted it and drank greedily, never taking her eyes off of his.
She saw hunger in those green depths, and thirst.
It was then she knew without a shadow of doubt, that this night would be a night to remember.
Chapter 13
The celebration was finally coming to an end. Hackett’s voice was raw from singing long into the night, and the men were tired from dancing.
“Time for bed, lads,” Hackett said. “We’ll all sleep soundly tonight, I reckon.”
As the men began helping Esperanza and Beatriz clean up the table, Juliet felt a wave of emotion overtake her.
“I don’t want this night to end,” she blurted out.
Carver stood beside her. “It doesn’t have to.”
Juliet looked up at him, not knowing what to say.
He offered his hand. “Come walk with me.”
Without uttering a word, Carver exchanged a look with Sergeant Hackett, who seemed to understand his captain’s meaning with only a glance.
Hackett would not be following them, nor would any of the other men.
In moments, Carver and Juliet slipped into the darkness, walking across the grass, away from the cheery stone farmhouse, into the night.
They walked in silence, listening to the breeze rustling the leaves in the trees. On another night, this would be a perfect opportunity for a prisoner like Juliet to escape from her captor. The only problem was, she didn’t want to escape. She didn’t want to be anywhere in the world but right here, next to the strong, handsome soldier who had somehow carved a window into her well-protected soul. It felt good to put down the burden of being Lady Blade, if only for a night. This man, Captain Carver Adams, had shown her how to do that, and much more. He’d struck down her defences and helped Juliet break free of the self-imposed captivity she’d waged upon herself for far too long.
And tonight, she wanted this man to break down even more of her defences, as only he could.
There was one more thing she needed to learn about herself, and she could only discover it in Carver’s arms.
She stopped walking, and Carver paused beside her. It was dark away from the farmhouse, but the moon shone down on them, providing enough light to illuminate their faces.
Juliet knew one thing—for this next adventure with him, she didn’t want to scurry away indoors. She wanted to be free, beneath the moon and stars, as the warm breeze caressed her skin.
His arm slid about her waist, pulling her slightly towards him. But she needed no encouragement. Juliet had never been more ready for anything in her life.
Her arms stretched up to curl about his neck as she pulled his mouth slowly down toward hers.
When Carver’s lips touched hers, it was all she could have imagined, and more. She opened her mouth to this amazing man as his tongue delved and mingled with hers. Sensual sparks seemed to flit all over her body, faster than she could keep track of. Suddenly, her breasts ached to be touched, her skin needed to be bare so that his strong hands could explore, tease, and torment.
Juliet moaned in a mixture of pleasure and incredible need, running her palms over the taut muscles of his shoulders and chest.
“I want you, Carver,” she said, breathlessly.
He pulled her closer, staring down at her and running his fingers through her thick hair. He kissed her again. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” she replied.
“My men won’t bother us,” he said. “We’ll be quite alone out here.”
She smiled. “I know. I saw the look that passed between you and Sergeant Hackett. He must not think Lady Blade is much of a danger to you.”
He trailed kisses down her bare neck, setting a new flurry of tingles dancing over her body. “Not tonight,” he said. “Tonight, there is no Lady Blade. There is no Captain Adams. There is only a man and a woman, coming together to give each other pleasure.”
Juliet sucked in a breath as his hands deftly slid the sleeve of her gown down her shoulder, baring it to the night air and to the onslaught of his wicked mouth. She was so aroused by this man—by his touch, by the sound of his voice whispering to her in the moonlight—her body shuddered in delight. Somehow, he’d unlaced the ribbons at the back of the gown and loosened the bodice.
And yet, he took his time.
Juliet’s pulse quickened as she waited for him to pull the dress completely down her shoulders. When she looked up at him in desperation, she saw the daring gleam in his eye,
and almost wanted to slap him.
The cad was making her wait, and he was enjoying every second of torturing her!
Two could play at this game.
She reached down and ran her hands up over the breeches covering his rock-hard thighs, and saw his eyes deepen with heat.
He knew where this was going.
Brazenly, Juliet slid her outstretched fingers lightly over the bulge in his pants.
“Now you have my attention,” he said, grinning.
She continued to explore the hardness of his sex through the fabric of his trousers, at times feathering her fingertips, at others, gripping her hand over his arousal.
Carver closed his eyes, his head dropping forward then arching back as his mouth pressed into a fine line of tortuous pleasure. “You’ve been driving me to distraction since the day we met, you know,” he confessed. “I’ve never met another woman like you.”
“I’ve never met a man like you, either,” Juliet said. “That’s why I want you so badly. You’ve made me feel things I’ve never felt before. You see through my defences.”
He gently pushed her hands away and pulled her close for another scorching kiss. “The woman beneath is beautiful, and completely unforgettable.”
“Then give me an unforgettable night in your arms,” she said with a sigh. “What Esperanza said is true. We don’t know what tomorrow holds. The two of us have been fighting too long in this blasted war. We deserve one night of pleasure, where there are no opposing sides, no generals giving orders, and no musket balls flying through the air. Tonight, I want the world to stop spinning.”
He touched her face, his gaze both challenging and burning with heat. “I will make the world stop for you, Juliet. Just remember that when we wake tomorrow, that world might be irrevocably changed.”
Juliet knew what he was saying. Tomorrow they would still be enemy soldiers. She would still be his prisoner. What happened between them tonight couldn’t change that, but it would change everything else.
The Duke's Defiant Bride (Brides of Mayfair Book 4) Page 9