Unmoved by his ministrations, Sarah lay in silence, staring at the balcony doorway, seeing nothing. An eternity passed, or so it seemed, and still Stewart worked tirelessly, praying she would give into the brandy and the massage, for he could think of no other balm.
At last, his efforts began to bear fruit. Without warning, Sarah shivered involuntarily as a sudden warmth poured into her. The abrupt feeling of life was disconcerting and without knowing why, she felt an overpowering urge to cleave. In a voice barely audible, she pleaded, “Hold me ... please hold me.”
It was the sign Stewart had been waiting for. Immediately he dropped beside her on the bed and took her into his arms, not unaware of her tender flesh where the wrapper had twisted away. Impatiently she pushed against him, wrapping her arms around his neck, whimpering his name in a pathetic, childlike voice. Far from disturbed by her first encounter with Stewart’s naked flesh, she reveled in its warmth and strength that seemed to seep from his body into hers. Nothing mattered except that she was feeling again and would do anything to keep the sensations alive.
Her desperate wriggling caused the wrapper to part and Stewart knew excruciating agony as a tender, swelling breast pressed against his hard chest. Her silky thighs molded themselves to his lean legs, giving rise to his manhood despite his attempts to will against it. In torment over his predicament, he tried to alter his position but Sarah relentlessly clung to him.
Were she any other women, his course would be certain. But Lady Sarah Tremont was not any woman. He had known her too dearly, had come to respect her reasons for chastity, even if they sorely conflicted with his own opinions and desires. That she had suddenly made herself a willing partner for his own lusts forced him to question her obvious, if inexperienced, overtures.
Would making love to her increase her anguish, complicate her suffering? Or would rejection? God, if only he could be certain! Everything about her this night confounded him – her calm control in the face of an unspeakable personal tragedy, her superlative concealment of her knowledge and emotions in d’Alava’s menacing presence, the cold withdrawal and now her passionate pleading. Had she gone mad, as she feared, or would a wrong decision on her part be the sway?
The misgivings persisted even as Sarah found his lips, kissing him wantonly, digging her nails into his broad shoulders and squirming until her supple body was pinned beneath his. And she truly felt his undisguised hardness pressed between them and knew that no matter what trauma had brought her to this point, nor what outcome would transpire, she wanted, needed, to experience the culmination of desire with this man, and no other.
“Take me ... take me, please. Make me feel again.” The whispered supplication ripened into a demand, so emphatic that all Stewart’s uncertainties took flight. She wanted him, as he had always wanted her. But he was determined to be patient and to stop his caresses should she suddenly change her mind. In soothing tones, he murmured of her beauty, his desire and of the act they were about to share, all the while removing her robe, teasing her body with gentle, persistent fingers. He kissed her, reveling in the unrepressed response of her delicate lips and tongue.
As his mouth sought the sweetness of her peaking breasts, Sarah pressed his head closer to her bosom, thrusting her hips toward him in urgent need for release from this exquisite torture he had aroused in her loins. Her will was gone and in its place was burning, aching desire to experience whatever lay in store.
Stewart was overwhelmed, struck by the intensity of emotion he had never sustained until this night. She was splendid in looks, taste, touch, scent, sound. Her barest quiver fanned the flames of desire, but to his surprise, selfless caring was by far the stronger impulse. As much as he wanted her, had always wanted her, he could not put his needs before her own. Tenderness, gentleness, patience had been mere words until this moment. And the realization that he possessed such traits only added to his reverent adoration of the woman beneath him.
His warm, pliant fingers teased and fondled every inch of her body until coming to rest on the soft mound between her legs. Drawing his leg up to separate her limbs, he retreated when he discovered resistance there. Raising his head from the deep hollow at the base of her pulsing neck, he sought the reason for her reluctance. Her hair had fallen into a dark, magnificent cloud around her face and framed her eyes, which, when she opened them, were soft, a luminous navy blue. Immediately her hands rose to cup his lean face, pulling him closer till their lips met in a rapturous kiss that both thrilled and confused him.
Again he pressed for access to hidden places and still she resisted, all the while gasping in breathless wonder at the powerful waves of pleasure overtaking her. If only she knew the course of this heady passion! Where was its crowning? How was this “act,” of which she knew virtually nothing, supposed to be accomplished? Eyes brimming with tears of frustration, Sarah wordlessly damned her prim and sheltered existence, fortified by her own stubborn desire for ignorance in all things sexual. For now, when she wanted to experience everything, she found herself a prisoner of her own purity.
His tender, husky voice broke into her recriminations. “Is it pain that you fear? ‘Twill be small and not what you remember of this night, I promise.”
Hiding her eyes from his intense gaze, she spoke, her words muffled, “Not that ... I would relish the pain. But I-I am without ... I don’t know what ....” Her embarrassed confession, so arduously attempted, melted Stewart’s heart as it cleared his confusion. He had forgotten how unschooled gentlewomen were in the art of love, so long had it been since he had come across a true innocent.
Lifting her arm from across her face, he delicately kissed each eyelid, savoring the taste of her salty tears. As his hand caressed the firm yet supple swell of her buttocks, he whispered reassuringly, “Take ease, my darling. Open yourself to me and your body will show you the way ....”
Tentatively at first, her knees came apart as his lips traced searing patterns on her ear and the slim column of her throat. Very gently his hand again approached the untried territory between her thighs, causing her to flinch, more from surprise than from fear. But he would not be swayed, methodically stroking the moist flesh, continuing to nibble and whisper in her ear of his pleasure and her charms.
Waveuponwaveofhotdesirewashedover her and Sarah felt suspended, apart from her own body, yet pulsing and breathless with longing. His masterful fingers played her like a fine, precious instrument. Unconsciously she spread herself beneath him, pushing and straining as her mouth and tongue sought the strong possession of his.
And then he withdrew, raising himself above her in naked splendor, a dark rippling panther so close yet much too far. In agonized disappointment, she moaned, wrapping her pale arms around his neck in silent pleading for his return. Stewart bent his head to kiss her again and in so doing, slowly lowered his body until his throbbing manhood tested the warm, wet heat of her portal. Dark sea blue eyes rose in confused panic, but earthy brown eyes were strangely reassuring despite their burning intensity.
Never had Stewart known such a desperate craving to find release for his too-long, pent-up urgings. But to move hastily would surely prove a grave gesture, for Sarah was so tense that he would undoubtedly inflict immeasurable pain. His arms trembled under his weight but his manner was calming, subtly moving his hard, warm body against the soft curves beneath him.
deliberate muscular Sarah felt herself responding to his movements,
chest taunted
relishing the way his her aching nipples in
feverish delight. Breathlessly she waited for his thrust which would surely end the incredible pleasure that, thanks to his skillful and considerate lovemaking, had nearly all been hers, or so she believed. But still he took his leisure, kissing her with controlled passion, discovering every inch of her mouth with his relentless tongue until his arm had gone around her and his heavy body was pressing hers into the soft mattress. She thrilled to the touch of his hand as he traced a molten path down the length of her trembl
ing flesh, coming to rest on the downy softness of her inner thigh. With gentle pressure, he pushed her limb further outward and the other followed willingly.
Then, and only then, did Stewart press his lean hips closer. Sarah’s legs tightened involuntarily at this encroachment, but surprisingly, there was no pain, only an ardent fullness that nearly took her breath away. Regaining her eagerness, Sarah sighed and pulled Stewart’s head closer, nuzzling her nose in the thick waves of dark hair about his ear.
Incapable of prolonging this sweet agony, Stewart rocked gently back and forth, moving imperceptibly deeper with each thrust of his burning shaft. A more experienced woman would have known that entry had only just begun. But Sarah, lulled by Stewart’s rhythmic page, thought her initiation complete and satisfying.
But her feeling of drifting contentment ended abruptly when Stewart’s gentle probing turned helplessly more demanding. Surprised and frightened by this change, his ragged breathing burning her ear, Sarah instinctively sought to resist him. But Stewart had gone too far to turn back now, pressing himself deeper and deeper into her gentle flesh. The discomfort she felt alarmed her and made her less open to his thrusts, which now seemed capable of ripping her body asunder.
She cried out, whimpering, pleading, begging him to stop his conquest, but either he did not hear or no longer cared for he drove himself relentlessly between her quivering thighs. Sarah squirmed and twisted, pummeling his broad shoulder with her fists but her efforts were totally wasted on this strong animal who imprisoned her so completely.
Betrayed and helpless, Sarah rolled her head from side to side, the tears flooding her flushed face. Meekly she sobbed, only remotely aware that the rending pain had subsided and in its place was a bittersweet ache as Stewart’s rhythmic invasion continued. And then, a very strange sensation crept over her, more mysterious because she had expected only to endure. It was as if her body were rekindled; she tingled with a feeling of indescribable anticipation for something that defied explanation. In burning response, her hips rose of their own accord to meet Stewart’s plunging stabs. The pain no longer mattered and his labored sounds were suddenly music to her ears.
Shegrippedhim,moldinghisbodymore tightly to hers, feeling as if she were about to burst into millions of glimmering stars. She felt faint, weak, yet strangely powerful, driven.
But it was a short-lived tumble of sensations for just as suddenly as her passions had risen, he stopped, and in the next instant, she felt his spasmodic tremors deep within her belly.
Stewart lay so still and heavy atop her that for a moment, Sarah thought he had suffered an attack, or had lost consciousness. A torrent of conflicting emotions engulfed her – concern, relief, curiosity, confusion, and fulfillment. None would take sure hold, yet none could she dismiss. Her eyes, still wet, filled again with unshed tears.
It was then that her lover, for that was surely what he had become, raised his head and with eyes aglow, carefully took in every detail of her lovely face, clearly defined in the white shaft of moonlight. With tender care, he brushed a damp ringlet from her temple, lovingly kissed her tears, stroked her high cheekbones, her slender nose and outlined her swollen lips with feather-soft touches.
Sarah returned his stare, her wide blue eyes and expressive brows revealing her myriad thoughts as if they were spoken aloud. “You are feeling many things,” he murmured, “but I sincerely pray that regret is not among them.”
“No ....” she replied hesitantly and then with conviction. “No, regret is not one.” The realization impressed her, and her spirits lifted a little. “What of you?”
He pondered his answer carefully, then spoke in a low voice. “If I could have given as much pleasure as I have found this night, then I would be the happiest man on earth. Would that I could have spared you the pain ....”
She put her finger to his lips. “Don’t. ‘Tis a maiden’s lot, that much I knew.” “Do you know that you have never looked more beautiful than this moment? Do you know that your body was made for a man’s caress and that your innocent passion stirs me more than I can say?” Her eyes lowered in shy delight that this aloof, often arrogant man should be moved to speak such heady words of praise. Stewart kissed her again, gently, lovingly, reluctantly removing himself from the warm shelter of her body, though his arms still enfolded her in newfound familiarity. “Tired?”
Sarah thought a moment, not quite sure of the relationship she now shared with the strong, handsome man who lay beside her. She considered it ironic that their intimate actions did not naturally evoke a comfortable openness between them. But she forced herself to speak honestly, although she could not look at him. “I-I am confused mostly ... I don’t know how this,” she gestured, “happened when I should be pulling my hair out with grief. I am thinking I must be a terrible person.”
“No, never that,” Stewart interjected soundly, pulling her close to his broad chest, his hands sending warm shivers through her body. “Some things would be devastating if we considered them too soon. You will grieve when you are ready. And I will be here to comfort you.”
His words brought a peacefulness to her that she had not felt in a very long time. Too weary to contemplate why or how, she sighed, closing her eyes and soon was sleeping easily.
But Stewart lay awake for a long time, staring up at the mirrored canopy and the reflection of himself and the tender child-woman curled up so trustingly next to him. It was a scene he had long pursued, and now, having won it, was strangely uncertain about the wisdom of it. She was so vulnerable and it pained him to think that he might have made a mistake, an error that would compound her suffering when he had only meant to ease it. I should heed my own advice, he thought irritably, and not consider it fully too soon.
Sarah stirred, brushing her eye in sleepy annoyance, then huddled closer to Stewart, her leg moving comfortably between his, as if sleeping in his arms were a pleasant habit. In the darkness, Stewart smiled, then placed an affectionate kiss on her perfumed temple. A pleasurable wave of contentment overrode his reservations and he, too, dozed off into a sound slumber.
CHAPTER 25
The intense screaming raised gooseflesh on Sarah’s feverish skin. She ran forward, then whirled around, not sure whether to find or escape the source. Blinding tears caused her to stumble. Jungle foliage impeded her frantic attempts to rise. The screaming continued, louder and more agonized than before. Then a voice, a sweet consoling, feminine voice very close to her ear said, “Don’t worry, mum. Mr. Chamberlain knows what to do. Gives a body peace of mind knowing that such a fine man is protecting us.”
Sarah’sheadsnappedaround.Therewas Tegan, her impish face beaming with confidence beneath her shaggy auburn locks. “There, there mum. See? Nothing to fret about. Mr. Chamberlain’s taking good care of us.” The boyish figure in ragged seaman’s clothes walked easily through the tangled underbrush, away from the spot where Sarah had fallen.
“Tegan!Teeg!”Sarahsobbed.“Comeback. Don’t leave me here, please!” “You’re in good hands, mum. And what a lucky one you are to catch his eye!” The maid was gone, swallowed up by the unforgiving tropical forest.
“OhmyGod!Tegan,comeback.Pleasedon’t leave me here,” she choked, her heart breaking at the loneliness that engulfed her. “Don’t leave me. Please ... don’t leave me!”
“Sarah!I’mrighthere.Iwon’tleaveyou. You’re safe ... I’m here.” But it was not Tegan’s voice consoling her, nor Tegan’s hands grasping her shoulders. It was a man, a warm, compassionate figure hovering over her in the moonlight.
“Stewart!” The relief of recognition swept over Sarah like a cooling ocean wave. Sobbing helplessly, she flung her arms about him, seeking the sheltering haven of his powerful body. Wrenchingly she confessed her misery, crying ceaselessly into his warm flesh. “Stewart ... I saw her ... I saw Tegan ... but she’s dead. It was only a dream. She’s dead, Stewart. Teeg’s dead!”
She wept, her outpouring overwhelmingly tormented. The pain was a physical torture as well as
an anguished guilt. That sweet, fearless Tegan should be killed so undeservedly when she was merely doing the bidding of others ... the atrocity was too much to bear.
Thememoriesflowed,eachonemore discomforting than the last. All these years, Sarah had considered her sister, Lady Juliana, her closest companion, and yet it was Tegan she turned to, confided in, depended on. And now she was gone, leaving Sarah alone ... with no one.
But even as the pain, the guilt and the loneliness coursed through her, bringing a physical ache to her very soul, Sarah was not unaware of the comfort she found in the body she clutched so desperately. The very same man who had been the source of turmoil in her life was now the one lending her strength, for she had none of her own.
With whispered words and gentle touches, Stewart eased her misery. If only a whit, it was more than Sarah expected, and she was grateful for his nearness. Finally, when her wrenching sobs dissipated into feeble, involuntary shudders, she opened her swollen eyes, seeking the words to express her jumbled, exhausted thoughts.
“I-IamsorryifIwokeyou.Thedream...it was so real. It made me remember ... eeverything ... and I c-couldn’t help m-myself.” As new tears threatened to fall, Sarah covered her face with her hands, embarrassed by her weakness.
“You needed to cry. And I told you I would be here, so you needn’t apologize.” Stewart pulled her closer, prying her fingers away from her wet face, kissing each digit tenderly. “Tegan was your friend. The memories will haunt you for a long time.”
That fact she agreed with completely, and her body responded with another quaking sigh. “What are we going to do now?”
“I need to speak with Jeremiah, to find out what he knows, if anything at all,” Stewart mused. “There was no opportunity this evening. “D’Alava made certain of that.” He studied her wide-eyed, confused and heart-broken stare, and added, “Besides, I was more concerned about you.”
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