The housekeeper hugged Catherine tightly and the look in her eyes said she appreciated the first part of the apology, and only believed half of the second part.
“Come to bed,” Rian repeated, his voice a low enticing growl as Catherine crossed the room toward him.
The nightgown covered her from neck to ankles, but as she moved it revealed more of her body than it covered. Just as it was supposed to. Very much a novice in the art of seduction, she stood by the side of the bed, shyly waiting for Rian to tell her what to do. He moved quickly, swinging his long legs over the side and sitting on the edge. Placing his hands on her hips, he drew her gently toward him until she stood between his thighs. His fingers curled around the ends of the bows decorating each shoulder, and he tugged, delighted to see Catherine’s mouth form an ‘O’ of surprise as the garment fell in a whisper about her feet.
“Turn around,” Rian instructed.
At first she wasn‘t sure what was happening, and fear knotted itself in her stomach until she impatiently pushed it away. This was Rian, and he would never hurt her. And then she felt his mouth, soft and gentle, pressing against her back, kissing the faint lines that still marked her skin, and the one violent, angry slash that was never going to fade. Beginning at the small of her back, he worked his way up her body. His mouth caressed each horrific reminder, washing away the poison embedded in each puckered ridge of skin. With his mouth he worshipped her, telling Catherine she was loved wholly and completely no matter what. Her body would always carry the mark of that night, but it was a burden her soul could release.
Catherine closed her eyes as a light fluttery feeling danced in the pit of her stomach. At Rian’s urging she took a few steps forward, feeling her husband slide off the bed and sink to his knees behind her. His clever lips continued with their task, making her shiver with pleasure when he found the sensitive place at the back of her knees. Taking hold of her hand, Rian turned her once more, but now it was to move her back onto the bed. Lying against the pillows, Catherine gazed at the man who now came up off the floor, and watched, mesmerized, as the candlelight played with the planes and shadows of his body. Lowering his head, Rian ran the tip of his tongue from ankle to knee before continuing upwards, trailing a silken path across her inner thigh.
She gasped at the sensation and her muscles trembled as her husband repeated his actions on her other leg. Without looking, Rian cupped her breast, casually rolling the pad of his thumb across her nipple and feeling it stiffen instantly. Catherine’s moan came from some place near the back of her throat, and she licked her lips. Inside her body a storm was gathering, and Rian breathed deeply, inhaling her musky scent.
Palming her buttocks, he raised her hips, his hair brushing along the sensitive skin of her thighs as his tongue stroked her flesh. She gasped and gave an involuntary shudder as his tongue swept a broad path up her center. Gently Rian probed and licked her sweet flesh, and the more she writhed as her passion built, the deeper he went. He suckled her with his mouth, feeling her heat increase, and knowing she was ready to be taken to heights she never knew existed. Pausing just long enough to raise his head, Rian found himself caught in Catherine’s gaze. She seemed to be having difficulty focusing.
With a smile he buried his head back between her legs and fastened his mouth over her sweet spot, sucking gently at first and then with an increasing pressure that had her hand fisting in his hair as he teased her to the edge of her climax, before pushing her over the edge with a final flick of his tongue. Shoulders down and hips raised, Catherine arched her back as she entered her own frenzied vortex. Every nerve in her body exploded as her climax swept through her, followed by a searing heat washing over strained muscles. Rian, grateful she’d let go of his hair, gathered her to him, rocking back and forth while he stroked her skin as she whimpered in his arms. He felt the frantic drumming of her pulse in her throat as the silken thread that had first bound them when she had been in the throes of her fever became stronger and pulled them even closer. When Catherine’s breath no longer came in harsh, ragged gasps, and her pulse had slowed to a steady throb, she opened her eyes and stared up at her husband, her lover.
“Will you promise to do that to me again?”
“Of course,” he replied, stroking a damp curl from her neck. “As often as you will permit me.”
“And what can I do in return?”
With a deep chuckle, Rian rolled onto his back, and showed her how to straddle him. Allowing Catherine to take control, he watched her eyes open wide as she sheathed him inside her body, felt the prick of nails from hands braced against the smooth expanse of his chest. She shuddered slightly when he moved inside her, but the curve of her mouth told him it was in delicious anticipation.
Tipping her head forward, Catherine pooled the heavy rope of her hair on his torso, and Rian held his breath, watching as the woman he had almost seduced in the library slowly emerged. This time there was no need for blackberry brandy to aid in the transformation. Instead he looked on with pride as Catherine shed the last remnants of the girl she had been, and wholeheartedly embraced the woman she would be from this moment on. Eyes closed, lips parted, her body glistening with perspiration, she began moving rhythmically on top of him.
“Slowly, sweetheart, slowly,” he told her, guiding her with his hands, “let me find my heaven with you.”
A quick study, Catherine adjusted her pace, intuition directing her movements, increasing her tempo, until she followed her husband to the point where neither of them were able to hold back. Giving one final upward thrust, Rian emptied himself inside his wife, holding her tightly in his embrace as she fell forward, completely spent.
Lying quietly in the dark with their limbs entwined, Catherine haltingly told Rian about the nightmares she’d had while staying at Pelham. Nightmares that featured a dark, indistinguishable figure, pain, terror.
“If they come again, hold onto me and I will be strong enough for both of us,” he promised. Relieved that he took her word as fact, Catherine relaxed against him. In a matter of moments the even feel of her breath blowing over his skin told Rian she was asleep. He lifted her left hand and gently kissed her fingers, pressing the cool smoothness of the gold wedding band he had placed there earlier to his lips. “I love you,” he whispered, his heart soaring as his wife snuggled closer to him.
Chapter 8
Propped up on one elbow, Catherine watched Rian as he slept. He lay on his back, one arm flung carelessly over the pillow, the other resting lightly by his side. The realization that she had never seen anyone more beautiful struck her. Sleep had been late in claiming them, and the sun was now high enough for daylight to reach the bed, bathing the occupants in its glow. And affording Catherine the opportunity to really look at her husband as he lay quietly next to her.
His face was ruggedly masculine. The severity of his dark brows was softened by the long sooty lashes that rested on his cheek. Catherine lightly ran the back of one finger down the curve of his face, following the strong jaw line and chin, now coarse with stubble. With the tip of her finger she lightly smoothed a path down his straight nose, pausing in the dimple above his top lip before following the outline of his generous mouth.
Thick brown hair curled lazily over his shoulders and Catherine smoothed it away from his skin, her palm lingering on the muscles of his upper arm before sliding across the breadth of his chest. Rian did not stir, so she let her hand rest lightly on his sternum, enjoying the steady rise and fall of each breath. Then, empowered by her own boldness, she continued with her exploration. Hungrily her eyes devoured him, this man who was now her husband and lover, as she softly scraped the tips of her fingers over his belly, boldly following the line of dark hair that disappeared beneath the sheet covering his hips.
“Don’t begin something you may not be willing to finish.”
She gasped, and turned her head to find Rian fully awake and staring at her. She didn’t
need to be told her face had turned bright red; she could feel the burn plain enough. “I thought you were sleeping,” she said guiltily.
Rian’s smile was filled with amusement. “Hard to do when your hand is so arousing.”
“And what makes you think I am reluctant to see this through to completion?” she challenged, slipping her hand beneath the sheet and running her nails over his hip, a particularly sensitive place she had discovered quite by chance last night. She felt him jolt under her hand. “After all, I have an excellent tutor.”
The amused look on Rian’s face quickly changed to something else as his body, already stimulated by her touch, came fully awake. Rolling Catherine onto her back in one swift movement, Rian looked down at his wife and murmured huskily, “Then let us see if you are ready for today’s lesson.” Her throaty laugh filled his head as she proceeded to show him how willing a student she was.
Later, after their appetite for each other was sated, Catherine stretched and flung a leg carelessly over his with a contented sigh.
“Happy?” Rian asked as he kissed the top of her head.
“Mmmm, yes, very, although…”
“Although what?”
“Felicity and Liam are going to be very cross with us.” Intoxicated by the scent of her skin, Rian nuzzled her neck, offering an unintelligible murmur in reply, and earning a playful slap on the arm. “Rian, I’m serious!” Catherine protested.
He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. She was serious, although he knew a few moments more and the serious side of her would willingly wait until the wanton side had finished with him. He had known many women in his life but never had he reached the heights of ecstasy that Catherine took him to simply by allowing him to take her there first.
“When Felicity and Liam see how happy we are, they will forgive us both,” he assured her. “You are happy, aren’t you?”
“Of course, I am. How could you doubt it?” Her eyes were wide with disbelief.
“A man needs to be reassured from time to time, that’s all,” he grumbled happily.
“I shall keep that in mind.”
When he tapped her lightly on the thigh, she rolled her leg off him and watched as he got out of the bed and crossed over to the bureau. “I have a gift for you.”
He returned holding a large flat box in his hands, but Catherine was too busy looking at the rest of his body to pay much attention. Sitting up, she pulled the sheet about her and gave him a thoughtful look before asking, “Who is Sophie?”
Rian stared at her, unexpectedly at a loss for words. “How do you know about Sophie?” He felt certain the only two people who knew of Sophie’s existence, his brother and Mrs. Hatch, would not have told Catherine about her. At least not without letting him know of it.
“I am not the only one who talks in my sleep,” Catherine told him. “You didn’t say anything else, just her name.”
The look in his eye told her she had touched a nerve, one that was still raw, and she turned her head away. Strong fingers caught her chin, and Rian made her look back at him.
“Catherine, I will keep no secrets from you,” he said seriously.
“Then who is she?”
He hesitated a few moments, as if trying to decide how to tell her, and hoping she would understand. Although the circumstances were completely different, it felt like he was courting danger, explaining his relationship with another woman so soon after his confession about Isabel. “She was someone I cared for once. Very much.” Catherine could hear the sorrow in his voice. “She was my wife.”
“Was?”
“Yes…she died.”
Suddenly recognizing there were a great many things she did not know about the man she had taken for her husband, Catherine was immediately curious. How long had he and Sophie been married? Had she borne him any children? How had she died? But she stayed her inquisitiveness, and instead threw her arms around his neck, holding him tightly. “Oh, Rian, I’m so sorry. Forgive me for asking.”
He took his time before gently pulling away from her, not wanting to let her go. The strength that flowed from Catherine was like a never-ending pool of cool, sweet water where he would always be able to quench his thirst.
“There, there,” he comforted, seeing her eyes glisten. “It was a long time ago, and I promise I will tell you about her, but please, not today. Today belongs to you.” He watched as she settled back down, blotting her damp lashes with the heel of her hand. The smile he gave her dispelled the somber moment. “Now, I have a wedding gift for you,” he said, placing the flat box on the bed in front of her.
“But…I have nothing to give you.”
He kissed her, slowly, deeply. “My darling, what you have given me has far more value than the trinket I now give to you.”
Blushing, Catherine stared at the item on the bed. The box had an aged look to it, and spoke of being handled by many through the years. “May I open it?”
The glint of excitement in her eyes made Rian laugh. Like most women, his wife was going to enjoy receiving gifts. Almost as much as he was going to enjoy giving them to her. “Of course, how else will you know what’s inside?”
Carefully she disengaged the simple latch and lifted the lid, gasping and opening her eyes in surprise at the treasure nestled on the velvet within. “Rian, I can’t—it’s beautiful—it’s too much—where did you get—Oh Rian!” This last was added with a deep sigh.
“It’s an old Connor family tradition. Something each firstborn son gives to his wife. Would you like to try it on?”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak as Rian lifted the necklace from the box and placed it around her throat, securing the clasp firmly. The setting was plain but elegant, not that the stone required anything to enhance its beauty. As big as an apricot, and almost the same color, the canary yellow diamond sparkled, seeming to draw every drop of sunlight that spilled into the room, and reflecting the light back as a deep gold that dazzled the eye. Rian smiled, delighted to see the play of rainbow light that danced on Catherine’s skin as the gem rested between her breasts.
“Perfect,” he whispered. “It’s just perfect.”
“Oh Rian, it’s too much! I can’t possibly—”
“Hush, you have to take it. It comes with me.” He kissed her lightly on the shoulder, watching her face as she tried to make sense of what he had told her.
“What do you mean, it comes with you?”
“Connor family tradition dictates that the firstborn son give this necklace to his bride.”
Ever practical, Catherine arched a brow. “And what if there is no son?”
“Then it falls to the firstborn daughter, who gets to wear it after she has taken a husband.” He reached out and cupped the diamond, feeling the weight of the jewel as it rested in his palm. “Either way, the diamond has to stay with the Connor family,” he finished solemnly.
Sensing he was holding something back, Catherine asked, “Why? What will happen if it does not?”
Rian shrugged. “Something about pestilence and ruin and general ill fortune.” The twinkle in his eyes told her he was teasing.
“All the more reason to keep it hidden safely away, I would think.” Catherine reached up behind her head to undo the clasp but Rian stopped her.
“No, please don’t,” he said gently. “I like the way it looks on you, and it has been hidden away for far too long.” He put his hand against her cheek as she slowly lowered her arms. “Wear it every day or only on special occasions if you wish. It will be returned to the box when you hold our first child in your arms.”
“Why? Is that a tradition also?”
“Yes.” He chuckled, already hearing the regret in her voice at having to give up the necklace. “But if it’s any consolation, you can wear this for the rest of your life.” He slipped onto her finger a ring whose single gemstone, though far smal
ler, was a perfect match in both clarity and color to the one around her neck.
“They are the same!” Catherine was delighted.
“It is rumored both gems were cut from the same stone.” Rian gave his wife an indulgent look. “And I think there’s enough similarity to give credence to that theory, don’t you?”
Holding up her hand, Catherine admired the ring, which sparkled with as much brilliance as the pendant. “Where did they come from?”
“No one knows for certain,” Rian admitted with a lazy shrug.
His wife gave him a look of mild alarm, “Rian, what if they were stolen by one of your ancestors?”
His chuckle was a deep rumble. “Knowing some of my ancestors, I’d say that’s a strong possibility. I should warn you, rumor has it that the gems are bespelled.”
“Bespelled?” Catherine was intrigued. “You mean like magic?”
He nodded. “Legend says that if either the necklace or ring is worn by anyone other than the intended recipient, then the diamond will curse the false wearer.”
“How?”
“Absolutely no idea,” Rian told her with a devilish grin. “It’s never happened as far as I know, but I rather like the idea of sores and boils erupting in unsavory places.”
“That sounds a little severe, considering the recipient would always be a woman,”
“Very well then, how about warts and unsightly chin hair?”
“Better,” she laughed. “Still, I suspect your curse is actually the result of one of your forebears wanting to keep the jewels together in one place.” She jumped off the bed and went to stand before the mirror, pirouetting first one way and then the other, admiring the way the diamond moved with her.
“As I said, a perfect fit,” Rian murmured.
Chapter 9
Salvation Page 6