by Kimberly Nee
Of course he didn’t. Women probably always stared at him. They probably stared and wondered, and imagined what it would be like to be with him.
Well, she knew, and that knowledge came back to haunt her in a most uncomfortable way. He was magic. Magic in the form of a man.
With a sly smile, she shifted, inching down the bed until they were face to face. The space between them disappeared, and Rafe bent to seize her lips once more. As she returned his kiss, she let her hand graze down over his chest, over his belly, along the ridge of his hip. He groaned, his entire body shuddering, as her fingertips brushed along his length. Hot. Smooth. Like polished glass or fine steel.
“Katie…” His breathless whisper held a plaintive note as he arched against her. “Oh, dear God…”
An even headier feeling of satisfaction swirled through her to fire her desire anew. He wasn’t the only one who could tease, and she felt no more shyness as she explored every sensuous inch of him. He groaned into her open mouth, his kisses becoming more frantic, more demanding.
“Dios mio,” he whispered raggedly as she broke away to trail her lips over his chest. Down his flat belly. She came over him as she kissed over that ridge of hipbone.
“Novia…” His fingers plunged into her hair, scrabbling for a hold as she explored him in a way she’d never done before. He met each caress, each stroke. His hips moved, rocked in time with her, and his words were tattered along their edges, breathless and pleading as he lapsed into lyrical Spanish. She didn’t know what he was saying, but the power of having total control over him was enough to make her want to tease him until he burst from it. From the feel of things, that might not be much longer.
She teased him with everything she had—her lips, her tongue, even her teeth. Each caress brought forth a new, pleading moan. Each stroke brought him closer to the edge. She felt it in the tension winding through his body.
Without warning, he snatched her beneath the arms to yank her to him, his lips hot and hard as they devoured hers. He rolled to pin her beneath him, and she welcomed his weight.
But he didn’t remain there. Where he was playful and teasing before, now he meant business. His lips scorched a path down her neck, into the valley between her breasts. She couldn’t hold back her sigh as he flicked the tip of his tongue into her navel. Inch by inch, he kissed down, moving out of her reach. She protested softly as her fingers slipped from his shoulders, but the words died on her lips as he kissed the inside of her left thigh.
Then he moved.
“Rafe!” Her back arched at the first hot stroke of his tongue. He wasn’t shy, wasn’t hesitant, but loved her in the most intimate way he could.
Pleasure swirled through her, prickly and hot, and when she hit that amazing peak, she cried out, “Rafe!” again as her hips rocked up to meet him.
He held her there until pleasure sang through her blood, spiraled through her entire body to leave her breathless and trembling with need.
She sank against the bed as he brought her back to earth, and as he crawled back up her, his expression was fierce, almost predatory. He claimed her lips in a fiery kiss as his hips thrust against her. He shifted his weight onto one arm, and his free hand disappeared into the darkness between them. He positioned himself, and then—
“Katie,” he growled as he breached her, filling her, now sliding his hand beneath her to lift her hips. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders as he began moving inside her.
“Oh…Katie…” His hips worked with maddening leisure. She wanted him to go faster, to shove her over that edge once more so she could take him with her. She expected—no, needed—him to move, to surge into her with all the force of a hurricane.
He went still, holding her suspended in time, for what seemed an eternity. She hummed all around him, savored the sensual fullness. She could wait if he could. It would be worth it.
He slid out, but not all the way. He thrust again. Back. Forth. His rhythm was leisurely, his body treating her to sensations and pleasures she hadn’t felt in so long.
Pleasure built upon pleasure, fed from it, feasted on it, and as it did, he moved faster. Harder. Surging up inside her with enough force to make her cry out and cling to him as the embers caught and scorched her entire body.
Fire filled his kiss, his mouth claiming her just as his body did. The pleasure, hot and sweet, tore through her. She was so close…so…close…
“Rafe!” Her cry came throaty and hoarse, her back arching as he shoved her over the edge and she went hurtling out over the chasm.
“Katie… Oh, love.” He thrust with more force now, increased his depth, and then he hit that peak.
He sank onto her, still shivering. His head came down to rest upon her shoulder, and his lips brushed her nape. His breath came in short, sharp bursts, and his breath came warm against her skin as he sighed, “Oh, holy Christ…”
She wrapped her arms about his neck. The silence that fell over them was sweet and peaceful, and Katie closed her eyes as Rafe swept his lips along her temple.
This was her favorite part of making love with him. The physical pleasure was a delight, of course, but this moment, when they lay wrapped in each other’s arms, when all the troubles and problems simply faded away, was the part she savored the most. When she could feel his heart beating with her own body. When he kissed her so gently it was almost as if he feared she’d shatter.
It was at this moment that all was right in the world.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“So, why are you here?”
The room was dark, the single candle having burned out hours before. But the storm had left a beautiful night in its wake, and the full moon let in enough light for her to see Rafe up on one elbow, gazing down at her.
“I needed to work.” She hesitated, then confessed, “Balboa wouldn’t take me back.”
His jaw tightened. “I know. I already spoke to his wife.”
“He’s been here many times these past weeks.” Katie tried to ignore her sorrow at that notion. She had never thought him to be the sort to dally about on his wife. Then again, she didn’t live with Sophie. She didn’t know what drove Balboa to seek comfort at Madame Zeta’s.
She didn’t want to know.
She frowned. “He made a promise. He should honor that promise.”
It was Rafe’s turn to frown. “Meaning?”
“I wasn’t speaking of you. I never approved of married men dallying with women who weren’t their wives.”
She waited for him to bring up her past, to wonder aloud how many married men had sought comfort with her. The waiting made her tense. Made her heart beat a little faster.
But all he said was, “Nor do I. A man honors his vow, and not only when it suits him.”
“You should get some sleep, Rafe. You look exhausted.” She slid her arm about his waist and snuggled against him. “What happened? With your mother?” she asked quietly, trailing her fingertips through the dark hair whorled down along the center of his belly.
He let out a long, tired sigh. “She had a headache and went to take a nap. She never woke up from it. My father was still in New York at the time, so we had to wait until he returned. But he ran into delay after delay. Then we had the funeral, and Marchand was good enough to allow her to be buried there. I had to wait until Papi and the others were ready to take their leave. And now, here I am.”
“I wish I’d known.”
“Why?”
“Well, because she was your mother. Whether she approved of me or not is immaterial at the moment.”
“The thing is,” he said, his fingers moving absently over her hair, “she gave me her blessing. She wasn’t entirely happy, but she was accepting.”
“Accepting of what?”
“Of the fact that I’m in love with you.”
Her heart stopped at that, and she peered up at him. “Y
ou’re what?”
“I love you, Katie. Surely you know that by now.”
No one had ever said those words to her, and she could never have imagined how it would feel to hear them. She felt vaguely silly as tears blurred her vision, but they couldn’t be helped. It was the first time she had ever mattered to anyone, really mattered to them, and she didn’t know how to respond. She stared at him, mute, and then tucked her head against his chest and simply held him.
Her throat constricted when Rafe just pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. It was as if he understood. He knew what her life had been, knew every single one of those dirty little tidbits that made decent people shun her, that made women like Sophie Balboa look down their noses as her.
And in spite of it all, or perhaps because of it all, he still loved her.
He’d never said it before. Never even gave an indication that the unspoken words hovered somewhere near his lips, waiting for the right moment to show themselves. As she lay there, entangled in his embrace, she found the strength to whisper those words that she had never spoken before.
“I love you too, Rafe. I always have, and it feels so good to finally be able to say it.”
It felt wonderful, lifted her heart to the point where she thought it might burst completely free from her chest. She couldn’t hold back her laugh, especially when Rafe tightened his arms about her and flipped her onto her back.
“Take care,” she admonished gently, tracing the line of his rough cheek with her fingertip. “I’m going to have a baby, Rafe.”
His jaw went slack. “I beg your pardon?”
“You didn’t notice? I’ve a bit of a belly now.”
“I thought it was because Madame Zeta fed you well.”
When she shook her head, she held her breath, waiting for his reaction as the words sank in. He seemed to be at something of a loss, his eyes searching hers as he murmured, “A child?”
She nodded. “Your child.”
“My child.”
“Yes.”
“Holy hell.”
“That isn’t exactly what I thought you’d say, but it is close.”
A slow smile stole over his face. “So I suppose I ought to ask for your hand now, shouldn’t I?”
Her good mood faded slightly. “No. I don’t expect you to, Rafe. In fact, it’s the last thing I think I want you to do.”
“I’m teasing you, sweetheart. Why do you think I’m here?”
“Well, it is a broth—”
“I didn’t come here for just any girl, I came here because you were here. And if you think I’m leaving—yet again—without you, you’ve got feathers in your head to go along with the baby in your belly, Katie.”
The urge to tease him back overtook her, and she grinned. “Then ask me the proper way.”
His smile faded, his expression becoming more serious than she’d ever seen, and his voice was low. “Will you marry me, Katie?”
As he spoke, a lock of dark hair tumbled over his left brow. Reaching up to gently brush it back, Katie nodded as solemnly as she could—which wasn’t easy as she had to fight off the silly grin threatening to split her face in half—and said, “Yes.”
* * * * *
Madame Zeta’s expression was forlorn. She hovered in the doorway to Katie’s room, as if trying to barricade her in. “Are you certain this is what you want?” she asked, for at least the tenth time.
Katie swept a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she stowed her one extra pair of slippers into her valise. “It’s what I’ve always wanted, Madame.”
Madame sighed. Although she was dressed from head to toe in sunny yellow, her dour mood somehow seemed to mute the color. “I never had a worker like you. I don’t think there is another one like you. How many former ladies’ maids want to work in a whorehouse?”
There had to be a compliment in there somewhere, so Katie smiled as she straightened up. “I’m sure someone else will come along and you’ll forget all about me.”
“Ain’t no one on this island can do hair like you.” Madame turned away with a sigh. “What time is your man due?”
“Noon.”
Another sigh, and Madame muttered, “Perhaps he will not come.”
Katie turned back to her packing. Of course Madame was sorry to see her leave; they both knew there were very few ladies willing to work for the low pay she offered. She took care of her ladies, had treated Katie well, but could be rather stingy when it came to money. For Katie, she’d needed work desperately enough that it hadn’t mattered how low the wage, as long as it was steady.
Although Madame had treated her well enough, Katie wasn’t at all sorry she was leaving. Rafe was at the harbor, finishing with some business, and then he’d be by to take her away from Kingston, and Madame Zeta’s and Jamaica, and time couldn’t go by quickly enough.
It was a gray day, the leaden skies heavy with the threat of rain, but, to Katie, it was as beautiful as if the sun shone brilliantly. She had everything she’d ever wanted and if she had to contend with any more happiness, she just might burst from it.
The floor creaked, and Madame shuffled away, still muttering beneath her breath. But she must have forgotten to add something, for the floor creaked again. Katie braced herself, and was pleasantly surprised when Bettina said, “I’m going to miss you, Katie. Who else am I going to talk to?”
Katie finished her packing, which wasn’t really all that much, and turned to perch on the edge of her bed. “The other girls will talk to you. You need only give them time. You’re still the outsider, but in a few more weeks, you’ll be just like one of them. Trust me, it doesn’t take long.”
Bettina twirled a lock of hair around her forefinger. Like the rest of the ladies working at Madame Zeta’s, she had only risen from bed within the last hour, as their late evening hours meant they slept in. And like the rest of them, she wore only a chemise and wrapper to begin her day. They wouldn’t dress until later, when the house opened for business.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be like them,” she confessed. “Do you know what I did last eve?”
Katie managed a smile. “I’m not certain I want to know.”
“But you did this as well, didn’t you? Someone told me you did.”
Katie waited for the shamed heat to sting her cheeks, the way it did whenever she thought about her past. But this time, it was only a slight twinge. It was so long ago, perhaps it no longer mattered. Or perhaps it was just that she didn’t need to hide it any longer. Those who knew and remained determined to judge, well, she couldn’t do anything about them. Those who knew and didn’t judge, such as Rafe, and Vanessa and Martha, were the people who mattered in the end.
She nodded slowly. “I did. But not for someone else. I was my own Madame Zeta, and I do not recommend it. If you must do this, stay here. It’s a strange family, but it’s a family and family is so important.”
Bettina sat beside her. “I’m still going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you as well. I’ll miss everyone. But I won’t miss this life. Not one bit.”
“Your captain is a good man. I hear his family is well-respected.”
“They are. And he is.”
Celeste rapped on the door and poked her head in. “Katie, a coach has arrived.”
Excitement fluttered through her, even as Bettina hugged her and choked, “Goodbye, Katie.”
“You will be fine,” Katie told her, returning the embrace. “You’ll see. Things have a way of working out.”
When she pulled back, it was to find Bettina crying. If she stayed there, Katie knew she’d start crying as well, so she quickly hugged Bettina once more, and then took her valise in one hand and hurried from the room.
The thick, sticky air wrapped around her as she left the building, and it was even worse inside the coach, but Katie didn’t care.
She held her valise on her lap, the giddy feeling swirling through her like feathers on a strong wind, and she found she could hardly sit still. The ride to the dock seemed to take an eternity, and when she finally alit from the coach, she couldn’t hold back her huge, foolish grin as she stared up at the three-masted beauty with mottled blue-gray sails that was the Eastwind. She’d never seen anything so beautiful.
“Are you going to stand there and admire her, or are you going to join me?”
Rafe’s voice floated down on the breeze, and she laughed as she peered up at him. “What do you think?”
“I think you should be up here. Now.”
She did as she was told, and Rafe came over to her, dragging the back of his wrist over his forehead. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come fetch you. I needed to finish overseeing the cargo being loaded. Now that you’re here, however, I think I’ll take a break. A much-deserved break at that.”
The giddiness returned, making Katie feel very playful and flirtatious. She tapped him lightly with one hand. “But Captain Sebastiano, you never shirk your duties.”
“I am now. Not that it matters. I’m just about finished here. Let me just let the others know we’re taking a few minutes.”
She hugged herself as he strode off toward the open hatch, where he shouted down to whomever was in the hold. All around her, the harbor was alive with activity. Ropes squeaked. Men shouted. Wood groaned as crates were loaded onto this ship and that one. It was amazing, like each crew learned a complicated dance and perfected it.
But there wasn’t much time to marvel, as Rafe made his way back toward her. Despite the increasing winds, the air was heavy and damp, and he’d shed his shirt in deference to it. It was a sight to admire, for certain, and she took no shame in doing just that. He grinned, lifted the shirt from the capstan where it lay and drew it on. “You might want to take care to put your eyes back in their sockets, sweetheart.”
“My eyes are fine,” she retorted pertly, slipping her arm through his. There were several men buzzing about on the deck, but she ignored them and their curious stares. She had nothing more to worry about right now. They could talk. They could whisper. They could elbow one another and tease Rafe if they so desired. They wouldn’t trouble her.