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Enemy of Mine

Page 26

by Red L. Jameson


  ~*~

  In the carriage Will wanted to confront Erva, ask her if she were a spy, ask about the bizarre device that lit up and played music. He wanted to know so much, but instead he only turned to her. The sunshine painted her pale delicate features into an exquisite sight, making him unable to speak.

  Just to act.

  He reached for her, pulling her close, feeling the softness of her breasts meet his chest. Instantly her hands were on his shoulders, not pulling back, but at first to brace herself, then she wrapped her fingers into fists, gripping his own red uniform and drew him closer.

  No words were uttered. Only the mutual, magical attraction was paid heed.

  Softly he bent for a quick kiss. Her breath caught, and he kissed her again. This time he settled onto her soft lips, savoring the feel of them pressed against his own, the sweet taste of her. She licked at his bottom lip, and he opened for her, letting her tongue invade his mouth, his mind, and his on-fire body. He pulled her even nearer, slowly letting one hand trace the curve of her waist, then the roundness of one of her breasts. She sighed and pried her lips from his, head tilting up, eyelids fluttering shut. He kissed down her creamy neck as his thumb rolled over her nipple, feeling it prick into a tight nub.

  Lord, he loved this, loved her body, loved her.

  And he was utterly turning this moment of what should have been confessions into something more carnal.

  Achingly he returned his hands to her waist and tried his damnedest to stop kissing her. Still, the pale skin of her neck beckoned, and he sucked a small mouthful, before finally relenting to tell her, “God, I know it’s only been a few hours, but I missed you.”

  “I missed you.” Her voice was wispy.

  “Did you sleep well, my darling?” He suckled another section of her throat.

  “No. I should have stayed with you, slept with you.”

  He bit her, feeling the twist of satisfaction and an odd sensation of...anger. Again, he admitted he was a tad put off by her rushing from him. But he knew why she had. Oh, there were so many reasons why a woman might run from him, but he’d never told her what lay in his heart.

  “I agree,” he said. “Tonight you’re going to sleep with me.” Lord, he sounded unbearably demanding. But the truth was, he was desperate for her. He couldn’t figure out the right words to convey that if she slept on her own again, he wondered if his heart would shrivel and dry until it was nothing but dust. It was utterly melodramatic of him to think such, but that didn’t stop him from feeling it.

  She pulled away enough to glance into his eyes. The skin around her mouth and down her neck blushed from his kiss. He’d been too rough with her again, and he chided himself for it.

  “I—I want—” she began.

  He cut her off, knowing it was time to act like a man. “I must apologize for never stating earlier...and being a lady I know you need to know...I keep bungling things.”

  “Being a lady?”

  “Yes, my intentions, of course, are to marry you. Being a lady, I should have said something sooner. Forgive my rashness.”

  She blinked several times, and it was then Will realized he’d left the carriage’s curtains up. Well, New York’s folks would positively had a show, if they had looked in. Lord, he was making a mess of things.

  He pulled down the curtains, making the carriage instantly darker and somehow gloomy.

  He settled beside Erva again, trying to take her waist in his hands, something he delighted in since her thin warm body under his hands sparked such feelings into his own. But she seemed to be a world away now.

  “Being a lady?” she whispered again.

  “Yes, I—I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner, but if you’ll have me, I will marry you.” Lord, why did that sound so completely lacking the romanticism of his heart, lacked his passion, and the fact that already he knew he loved her, even if it had only been a few days since he’d met her.

  “Because I’m a lady, you’ll marry me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because I’m a lady.”

  Something about the way she kept repeating the word “lady” had Will’s internal warning bells ringing. He knew he was botching the proposal, but he could hear from her tone that she was drifting further and further away. If only he could think of the right words for once.

  “I—I seem to be saying all the wrong things. No, that’s not quite right, for I do wish to marry you.”

  “Because I’m a lady.”

  “Yes. I—well, you know.”

  She shifted away from him. It felt as if she’d jumped ship and sailed back to England.

  “Erva, since I’ve met you—”

  “What if I’m not a lady? What then? Would this be another of your liaisons?”

  He couldn’t help but laugh. His lacking any kind of sexual promiscuity, he’d thought, had been apparent last night. He’d been guided by her moans to ensure what he was doing was right. Lord, thinking about it made him feel a bit too tight around his cock. Again. Would it ever settle down?

  Erva turned completely from him then, wrapping her arms around herself.

  “My darling, I’m—” he tried to pull one of her shoulders in his direction, but she wouldn’t budge. He sighed. “What—what is that box that lights up?” Now was not the time for this, but suddenly his mind and mouth were no longer under his control.

  She glanced at him over one of her slender yet strong shoulders, her eyes wide. “You saw that it lights up?”

  He nodded. “It seemed to play some sort of Indian music for me. The drums were spectacular.”

  She snorted a hard laugh and sat even farther away from him, but had turned toward him in the process. “That’s not Native American music, you racist.”

  Something struck him then, right through his heart and stomach. The pain was so real, he’d thought she’d somehow truly stabbed him. But it had been her tone and those words. “Racist? Native American?”

  She rolled her eyes. “God, I’m an idiot.”

  “No.”

  “Yeah, I am, for thinking you were some enlightened...man.” She hurled that last word at his heart again, wounding him deeply.

  “I—I—what is a racist?”

  She pointed her pretty face toward the front of the carriage. “You.” She shook her head. “I—I don’t think you have a word for it, but maybe racialism? Is that a word you know?”

  He shook his head. “I know race, of course.”

  “Yes.” She huffed and turned back to him, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. It unfortunately gave her cleavage even more of a desirous look, and Will found it hard to concentrate when she said, “Race as in white, non-Hispanic; black; Native American; Asian; et cetera.”

  “People. You’re talking about people. You think me some bigot?”

  “Yes!” Her hands flew to the roof. “I know people of your time, people like you, were complete racists, thought having slaves were acceptable. I don’t know why I thought you’d be any better.”

  So many thoughts flew through his mind, but he finally had the clarity to say what needed to be said. “People like me, hmm?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now who’s the bigot?”

  She glanced at him, her eyes wildly dark.

  “I have single-handedly emancipated more than five thousand slaves.” His voice was a tad too low and threatening. “My first act as an officer in the Army was to destroy a slave port that my own government was financing. I had to pay a heavy fine for that, I did. I know I don’t say enough in Parliament, but my vote has always been for emancipation. I—I find myself at a loss of words in public places, like Parliament. I don’t know why, for I can speak my mind in a war council, but not in politics. I wish I could change that, and I am trying. I know I don’t do enough, but I’m trying.

  “I have Indians in my troops whom I have given high ranks to and payment for their scouting abilities. I fight for them, for without my aid I fear they will lose
all their land—”

  Faster than he saw coming, Erva kissed him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, saying between kisses, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You’re such a good man.”

  Instantly, he reacted by kissing her back, so happy she’d returned to him.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered as she licked along his ear. “I’m acting nuts, and I’m sorry for that as well. But,” she leaned her forehead on his shoulder, “I keep looking for your faults. But you have none, do you?”

  He silently chuckled. “I have plenty, my darling.” Smiling, he couldn’t help but think her words a good omen for his question. “I’m sorry too. I should have asked you to marry me the moment we met, for I knew it then...”

  Suddenly, she stopped holding him, pulling away, staring at him, her eyes too wide as if she were afraid. “Because I’m a lady? That’s why you feel the way you do?”

  He shook his head. A pinch of anger rumbling through his veins. “Because you’re you, woman.”

  She smiled at his incense. But slowly her smile crumbled. “I have so much I need to tell you.” Then something flashed through her eyes. “Is that why you fight against the Americans? Because you fear the Native Americans will lose their land?”

  Lord, that would have been a decent reason why. It sounded chivalrous.

  He wished he could nod his head, make himself sound like a knight of yore, like a man Erva would admire. But he couldn’t. The reason why he’d come here had been far too selfish and dark.

  He squeezed her waist, feeling at once closer to her, but knowing he had so much to confess to her was almost as difficult as never touching her again. What if she did reject him? She hadn’t said yes to his blasted proposal. The horses’ trot slowed, and he knew they must be close to Lady Anne’s estate.

  “I suppose we both have much to tell, hmm?”

  She smiled almost a bit sheepishly, then blinked and looked down.

  The carriage stopped, and he tried to retract himself from her, but she suddenly pulled him close. She kissed him furiously, pressing her lips and breasts against him almost painfully so. Suddenly stopping her kiss, she pulled away enough to say, “After tea? We’ll talk?”

  He smiled and laughed. “I’m not sure I have the ability any longer.”

  She giggled and pulled even farther away, smoothing his red coat as she did so, turning his already sensitive skin on fire. God, he’d like nothing more than to tear off his clothes and hers and have her right there in the carriage. The thought did nothing to his already overactive cock.

  He sipped in a large breath, trying to think of anything remotely not sensual as the carriage door opened. Immediately, he heard a high-pitched giggle. It sounded particularly vicious. Lovely, Miss Whinny was here. He hoped he could keep the pompous young miss away from his beautiful goddess who had just kissed him as if she would never see him again. Oh, the woman could kiss. And utterly confuse him. The whirlwind of a conversation they’d just shared was...damnation, he realized he still didn’t have any answers, and he’d gone and asked even more questions. One very deliberate question in particular. After tea he was determined to get an answer, if not many.

 

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