"Promise?"
She nodded. "You said you would teach me to swim and I have decided I would like to learn."
"And I know the perfect spot where I can teach you," he said, reeling her slowly toward him. "The beach is private, the water warm and clear. It's a perfect little paradise for lovers."
"Swimming lessons," she corrected with a catch to her breath. "You will give me swimming lessons."
He leaned down and took her lips, separating them with his tongue slowly before slipping inside to tease and tantalize.
"I want to give you more, so much more," he whispered between erotic kisses. "Will you let me give you more, angel?"
He didn't wait for an answer. He tore his mouth from hers, grabbed her hand, and hurried down the veranda steps with her in tow.
Chapter Twenty-one
"Strip?" Catherine repeated, watching while Lucian cast off each of his garments and tossed them to the sand.
He was gorgeous. And once he peeled those breeches off she would be hard-pressed to keep her hands off him.
She spoke sternly. "You promised to teach me how to swim."
He discarded his breeches.
Catherine captured the traitorous moan that rushed to escape her lips. She intended to learn to swim first, later they could roll playfully in the sand.
Lucian walked up to her, reaching for her sarong. "Aye, madam, I did. And you can't learn to swim properly fully clothed."
His fingers deftly plucked the end of the sarong from where it sat tucked just above Catherine's left breast and began to unwrap her.
A ripple of sensual pleasure attacked her lower belly. "Is this a good idea, Lucian?"
He wore a teasing grin. "Most definitely. Living on an island surrounded by water, one should definitely learn to swim."
She caught his hand, preventing him from releasing her sarong. "That's not what I meant and you know it."
His strength was no match for her, he let fall the last layer of her sarong, her hand seeming to assist him. His eyes appreciatively followed his hand as he cupped her breast and tenderly squeezed her full flesh.
His one whispered word promised heaven on earth, "Later."
Her body shivered in anticipation.
He laughed, grabbed her hand, and ran with her toward the rolling waves gently rushing to shore.
Catherine tugged at his hand, halting him as the water rushed up encircling her ankles. "Wait," she cried fearfully.
He stopped, turned, and swung her up into his arms, carrying her the rest of the way into the warm clear water until he stood waist high in it.
"Lucian?" she protested loudly, and locked her arms around his neck.
"Hush, angel, I'll allow no harm to come to you." He kissed her forehead and slowly lowered them both until the water covered nearly up to their necks.
She stiffened as the warm water engulfed her naked flesh. She had not thought that her lesson would begin with her bare skinned and immersed in the sea, in Lucian's arms.
"Relax," his voice soothed. "You'll be swimming in no time."
She had her doubts. "Are you certain this is the proper way to learn how to swim?"
"Proper?" He paused and studied her before claiming her lips demandingly. Hot and heavy, his tongue assaulted her and she surrendered. When she finally lay limp in his arms, he spoke. "I never do anything proper."
That he didn't have to tell Catherine. She was well aware of his penchant for impropriety.
"Now for your first lesson," he said with a sense of impatience.
She smiled with satisfaction. He was as hot and bothered as she.
"You must learn to breathe through your nose correctly in order to swim. It is important since there may be times you find yourself submerged longer than usual."
Catherine objected. "I have no plans of submerging myself for any great periods of time."
"Fine. But you will learn anyway."
Catherine meant to protest. Lucian stopped her.
"I am the instructor, you are the pupil. We will do things my way."
His tone left no room for argument. He meant to be obeyed and he would brook no interference. She assumed silence and attentiveness was the best course of action at the moment.
"Now," he began again, expecting and receiving no objections from Catherine. "Breathe down through your nose like this." He demonstrated, his nostrils flaring as he expelled the air. "Try it."
She did and smiled, pleased by her success.
"Good," he praised. "Now you're going to breathe exactly that way as we dip our heads beneath the water."
"No!" she protested loudly, and anchored her arms more tightly around his neck.
"Yes," he corrected her and submerged them both.
Catherine barely had time to inhale as he had ordered and shut her eyes before she felt the sea swallow her whole.
He surfaced them quickly.
Catherine opened her eyes surprised. "I did it," she announced proudly.
"And that's just the beginning," he smiled.
Excited by her achievement, she laughed, announced she was ready for less two, and kissed Lucian soundly.
He was caught off guard, a tendency he thought he had broken years ago, so his lack of attention shocked him. So did her kiss. It was quick, but artfully sensual. Her tongue shot in his mouth, fenced a brief and excited moment with his, and then departed, leaving him excited and hungry.
"Lesson two," she repeated, unaware of how she had raised his temperature considerably.
He became astutely aware of their nakedness and the buoyancy of the water surrounding them. Bloody hell, but he'd enjoy taking her here in the sea. And here he could take her roughly, the water softening his urgent thrusts. He hardened at the idea.
"Lucian?" Her voice questioned gently.
He shook himself from his reverie. "Lesson two," he heard himself say, and wondered which lesson he'd demonstrate lovemaking in the sea.
o0o
"My arms ache," Catherine protested an hour later.
Lucian sounded annoyed when he spoke. "You insisted on practicing too long."
"I wanted to learn."
"It wasn't necessary to learn in an hour's time," he said curtly, surprised by how quickly she had mastered the skill.
Catherine continued to bob beneath the water, her feet prodding the sea's soft floor to add to her bounce. She wondered over his snappish remark. "I hadn't known swimming could be so enjoyable."
"It has its moments," he said, standing. The water fell to his waist, his well-muscled torso dripping, his hair wet and glistening.
Catherine caught the ragged gasp that rushed to her lips. It wouldn't do to let him see how he affected her. To let him know that with a simple look, her blood could race hot with passion for him and her body could tingle with the anticipation of him filling her to the brink.
She stood as well, assuming their lesson over. "I suppose you've had enough instructing for one day." She turned her bare backside to him and headed toward the beach.
One step, two steps, three steps. He watched her walk away. She thought her lessons over, complete, finished. The hell they were finished. If she thought that he touched her wet naked flesh for the last hour with no intention of making love to her, she was a damn fool.
He intended to touch, stroke, kiss, and bloody well ease this damnable ache that started as soon as she had entered his arms on the veranda.
His eyes devoured the way her round backside swayed, rivulets of water running off her firm flesh. The sea fell away from her nakedness almost reluctantly as she emerged farther and farther.
Lucian watched with steady and hungry eyes. Watched as the water released her and exposed her legs and the haven where he knew he'd find paradise.
She raised her arms, squeezing the saltwater from her long silver hair. She turned slowly, gracefully, and for an instant stared at him. Her breasts jutted out full and invitingly, her belly was soft and flat, and the silver triangle of curls beckoned most sinfull
y.
Gracefully she turned once again, only this time she rushed to the shore — away from him.
Her anxious flight angered him and like a mighty god emerging with wrath from the sea he descended on her.
Her feet barely touched the warm sand when she was swept up into Lucian's arms.
"I want you."
Catherine shivered, though warm; his voice ran like icy fingers down her spine.
"That's right, angel, fear me, for at this moment I want to take you like I've never done before."
"Lucian." His name spilled in a soft plea from her lips.
He ran his mouth roughly over hers. "No amount of pleading will help. I plan on taking you here. Now. My way."
His own words enraged him with passion. He wanted desperately to possess her, to love her so thoroughly that she would never forget him, never want another man, and never want to love again. He wanted her to be his and his alone.
He dropped slowly to his knees with her still cradled in his arms. "Lesson number ten," he said, placing her on the warm sand, moving down over her and savagely capturing her mouth.
Bloody hell, but she tasted like the sea, salty, fresh, and wet. So damn wet that he could think of nothing but her warm, slick sheath that waited for him.
"Lucian." Her voice attempted sanity, but the tremors that racked her clearly declared her on the threshold of madness.
Lucian pulled back away from her, kneading her breasts as his knees nudged her legs apart.
"I'm going to take you beyond paradise, beyond passion, into the deep dark recesses of insanity," he said, his hand stroking her silver mound roughly. "You want to go with me, don't you angel?"
Her eyes fluttered. She could barely gather a cohesive thought much less manage a sensible response. The warm sand burned into her back, his touch fired her body beyond reality, beyond any emotion she had ever experienced. He dominated, he controlled, and he brought her unspeakable pleasure. The devil himself possessed her very soul.
She shook her head, for a brief moment fearing where he might take her.
He laughed, slipped his arms beneath her legs and drew her up against him, his hardened shaft bidding entrance to her. "Liar," he said, and plunged into her.
She arched her back and cried out from his thrusting impact. Her hands clawed the sand, her breath locked in her throat and she thought she would surely die if he ceased his forceful invasion.
He didn't stop. He delivered exactly what he had promised; he took them into the depths of insanity.
His movements were wild, full of savage need, and she responded with equal abandonment. Nothing existed but their unholy desire to be consumed by each other, to touch the very core of their beings, to unite and become one. To love as they had never loved before.
They splintered together like a thousand shards of glass bursting beneath the hot sun. Painfully satisfying and emotionally frightening.
Lucian collapsed on Catherine, his breathing heavy, his heart beating out of control. Catherine fared no better. Her heart beat erratically as though searching for a steady rhythm, but too crazed to fine one.
Several silent minutes drifted by before Lucian regained control and rolled off Catherine. He lay on his back, his eyes squinting up at the sun. "Are you all right?"
Catherine still hadn't regained control. Her breathing was labored, her heart pounded, and her body felt ravaged with pleasure.
"Catherine?" he questioned, his strength returning.
She still was unable to answer him.
He sat up and looked down at her. "Catherine?"
Her eyes resembled large round coins and she gasped for breath.
Lucian had her in his arms in seconds. "Easy, angel, easy," he soothed, and stroked her back. "Take slow breaths. Slow."
His reassuring voice calmed her, his powerful arms protected her. She belonged here with him as surely as night turned to day. They were part of a whole and could never be completely one unless together. She loved him. Loved him beyond reason, beyond reality, beyond madness. She loved the devil himself.
She signed heavily, her breathing finally normal, her heart pierced by the truth. What in heaven's name was she to do?
"Feeling better?" His hand caressed her arm.
She spoke honestly. "I feel like I've never felt before."
He lifted her chin. "And shall never feel again — unless it is with me." His words dripped with icy warning.
She let him know his caution wasn't necessary. "I want no other man." Her finger traced a slow path down his cheek to his mouth. Her words came simply and were spoken from her heart. "I love you."
Lucian stared in disbelief at Catherine. Words escaped him, rational thought disappeared. His heart urged him to respond in kind, declare the love he had tried so hard to ignore and kept buried in his heart.
But old hurts and wounds surfaced to oppose and prevented him from admitting just how very much he loved Catherine Abelard.
Catherine grew uncomfortable with his silence. She had foolishly acknowledged her feelings. Would she ever learn to think wisely before she spoke? What now? Did she expect the infamous Lucifer to admit his love for her? Did she think they would or could live happily ever after?
Words rushed to her mouth though this time she attempted to save herself from further embarrassment. "The sand is irritating my skin. I must rinse it off."
She squirmed out of his arms and hurried off into the gentle rolling surf.
Lucian watched her retreat and cursed himself. Why? Why couldn't he forget the past, bury the hurt, and go on with his life?
But he knew the answers to his questions. He had suffered and he wanted desperately to learn why — why Abelard had lied and condemned him to hell.
Catherine's actions caught his attention and he watched as she stooped to grab at something in the water.
He stood and walked to the water's edge. "What buried treasures do you look for?"
She almost cried out "Your love," but caught herself and held up a grooved seashell.
"Would you like me to help you collect more?" he asked, already entering the water.
I want to collect more, so much more from you. She nodded, smiling briefly before she returned to her hunt.
The silence hovered heavily over them. The sun seemed to grow hotter, the air thicker. Catherine edged away from him, distancing herself, fighting to ease the ache in her heart and the emptiness in her soul.
Lucian noticed her retreat and grew angry. He didn't like her attempting to detach from him. They had grown closer since their arrival on the island, much closer, and he refused to lose that strong emotional bond they had forged.
Damn it, but she belonged to him. Love or no love, she was his.
"Catherine!" he yelled, tossing the shells back into the sea.
She jumped, startled, and looked at him with wide, questioning eyes.
"Come here," he said, holding out his hand to her.
Deny him. Her voice warned. Turn and run. Save yourself from the pain and hurt he surely will cause you. Run, Catherine, run.
She did — right into his arms.
Chapter Twenty-two
Catherine rushed down the staircase, her hand sliding along the polished teakwood banister. She cast a hasty glance about the entrance foyer. Spying no one about, she hurried down the last few steps and peered into the large receiving room to her right.
Heavenly blues and lush tropical greens blended perfectly to fill the airy room with the sense of the outdoors. Satisfied the room was empty she gave a quick look across the foyer into the dining room, shook her head at the huge dining table, wondering when Lucian would have the opportunity to entertain so many people, and hurried along down the wide hall.
She stopped near the end on the right in front of a closed door. She cast another curious glance to both sides of her. When she was certain no one watched her she turned the handle gently, nudged it open, and slipped inside, carefully shutting the door behind her.
"I've
waited far too long. I must find those documents," she murmured to herself. She had allowed Lucian to consume her days and nights. It had been close to a month since they had arrived on Lucian's island. And a good part of each of those days had been spent with Lucian. The nights as well, but then the nights always belonged to him. They never retired without each other. Always they made love in his large bed upstairs and always they fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.
Catherine had guarded her feelings and words carefully since that day on the beach when she had declared her love for him. They had swum often after that day, her skill improving and every inch of her body tanning gradually from the combination of wet, salty sea and hot sun that beat down on her daily.
She had laughed with him, picked fruit with him, hunted shells with him, and made love repeatedly with him. But she never again mentioned her love for him.
Now the time had come for her to face reality and recall why she was here, a prisoner on his island. She had come to save her father's life.
Undoubtedly her father or Charles had been in contact with Lucian, though he refused to speak of it to her. No matter how many times she questioned him, almost begged him, he denied her all information.
Her choice was obvious. Search for the papers herself. Then what? She wasn't certain. She only knew she could no longer sit by and do nothing. She would search and when she found them? Their relationship would be sorely tested.
Catherine had investigated Lucian's office once before, but she had been interrupted and had never found another opportunity to continue her hunt. Today Lucian and Santos had gone off to see to matters concerning the Black Skull. He had informed her he would be gone most of the morning. And with Zeena off to the market square that gave her a few hours and she planned on using every precious minute.
His study reflected him. Solid, strong, and massive in size from desk, to chairs, to tables, to paintings. But the colors, gentle blues and soft whites, reflected that part of him that he attempted to keep hidden. The part of him that cared... cared more deeply about others than he would ever admit.
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