Touched by Fire

by Kathleen O'Reilly

  The moon was quite high in the sky by the time Colin arrived at Rosemont. Giles greeted him at the door, still sulking, but took his coat and hat, and shot a disapproving glance in the directions of his boots. Colin smiled and hummed to himself.

  He was home.

  He found Etiénne in the study, the Frenchman looking quite comfortable, his stockinged feet propped up on the desk, polishing off a glass of brandy. “How was London?”

  Colin leaned against the fireplace and downed a glass himself. This wouldn’t take long, and then he could go find Sarah. “The same as it always is. I discovered the name of the man who attacked Sarah.”

  “He is still alive?”

  “I didn’t find him, and I don’t like leaving her alone.”

  “All was quiet here.”

  “Good. Can you go to London and watch for the man?”

  The feet came off the desk with an indignant thump. “Do I look like one of your servants? I should be in Belgium.”

  England didn’t need the man’s help as badly as Colin did. He glanced up at the ceiling, wondering if Sarah was asleep yet. “You’ll be there soon enough and you owe me several favors, if I remember correctly.”

  “Someday your markers will all be used up.”

  “But not today,” Colin answered curtly, torn between being hospitable to a man who he owed many favors and running upstairs to hold his wife.

  “No, I like your Sarah too much to let her down. She won two hundred pounds off me while you were gone.”

  Colin undid the knot at his throat and prowled about the room. “I’ll pay you back.”

  “No, she beat me honestly.”

  Would she be glad to see him? “Consider it a fee for your service.”

  Etiénne shrugged and then changed the subject. “What did Scovell say?”

  “I’m to sail before month’s end.” He looked up at the ceiling once more, wondering what she was wearing.

  “That won’t be long.”

  “No, but I made good progress today. I’ll find out who is behind the attacks before then.”

  “You sound very sure of yourself, my friend.”

  “I have to be, I don’t have a choice.”

  Etiénne stared at the fire and finished his drink and then stood and yawned. “I’ll leave in the morning. It will be good to return. Celine will have missed me.”

  Colin offered him another drink, but thankfully, the Frenchman declined. Etiénne waved his hand.

  “Go see your wife, Haverwood. I don’t need a nursemaid. She’s been missing you terribly.”

  Terribly? Colin didn’t need to be told twice. After washing the day’s dirt from himself, he dressed and went to see Sarah.

  She was sitting alone in her room, playing cards. He stood in the doorway for a moment, needing to catch his breath, to slow the frantic pumping of his heart. She talked to herself. He hadn’t known that before, but there she was, muttering, and talking to the cards as if they were old friends. She frowned and chewed on her lip as she drew from the deck. He wanted to touch her, but he didn’t know that he could stop once he started. And tonight would not be for him, tonight would be for her.

  She looked up and saw him and then smiled. “You’re home.”

  Home. Yes, he was. He captured her image in his head, the way her cherry lips curved, the way the lamplight turned her eyes to silver. It was a portrait he would save for when he was in Belgium. That smile alone would get him home.

  He must have moved, because he was close to her now, able to see her pulse beating in her throat, able to smell the soap she used, but still he couldn’t touch her. Not until he had control. When she was nearby, he had none, and it scared him so.

  “When did you arrive?” She sounded as edgy as he was.

  “Less than an hour ago.”

  “Will you have to leave? The papers said the soldiers are already leaving.”

  He wanted to soothe the panic from her voice, but still he dared not touch her. When he replied, his voice was rougher than he intended. “Can we save it for the morning?” She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “You look well.”

  “I’m perfectly fine, right—”

  Quite simply, that was the end of his control. He kissed her. Oh, God, he had missed her so. Her hands curled into his hair, her mouth moved against his as if she were speaking, but he couldn’t understand, couldn’t do anything but feel.

  He picked her up and carried her to the bed, and then laid her down gently. “You’re sure you’re feeling well?”

  She rolled her eyes, and he very nearly kissed her again. “They’ll be no more talk about my well-being or your dragons. Do you agree?”

  He stroked her hair, strands of silken fire spilling over his hand. “You’re going to insist, I suppose?”

  “Yes.”

  “And if I don’t? If I insist on spending all night holding your hand?”

  “You’re making a joke, aren’t you?” He heard the uncertainty in her voice, though.

  “Well, actually, no.”

  “Colin—”

  He put his hand over her mouth before she could finish. “Caught you.”

  She pressed a kiss against his palm, her eyes dancing. “You are a wicked man.”

  “The very worst.” He began to kiss her neck, finding the hollow behind her ear, and discovering the small spot low on the her throat that caused her to purr like a cat.

  “And a cad to be worrying a frail woman such as myself.”

  “Despicable.” He took her mouth, matching their hips together, losing his breath when she pressed closer.

  Desperately needing to breathe, he broke free of the kiss, but she continued doggedly. He brushed his hand over her body, back and forth, slowly as she talked. “And if you believe that I will forgive you so easily, tearing off to London, leaving me here to twiddle my thumbs—could you do that again? Yes, that very place, thank you—if you believe that I—oh, my. You’re seducing me, aren’t you?”

  Colin shook his head, feeling quite pleased to see her losing her wits. “I believe my skills at seduction are very poor.”

  “I would not consider succumbing to anyone less than a master of the art.”

  The thought of her being with anyone else was a very poor joke. He stopped his stroking. “You’ll succumb to no man but me.”

  She kissed him gently. “My heart has no room for anyone else.”

  “I love you, Sarah.”

  “I know, but I did wonder if you ever were going to tell me.”

  “I think I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you. No, that was lust.” He laughed. “The day of the wager, when you let the card fall. That was when I fell in love.”

  She fell back against the pillow and stared at him, aghast. “Dear heavens, why? I was going to rook you.”

  “Yes, you did think you were rather clever, didn’t you?”

  “And I was. But you make me want to be better than that. I’m a person now that I never dreamed I was capable of being. What you do, how you treat others, your kindness, I’ve never known such things could exist in one man.”

  When she whispered words like that to him, he knew his journey was over. Now he was the DragonSlayer. “I will never disappoint you, I give you my word.”

  “I don’t need your promises, silly man. You could never disappoint me.” She said it so prosaically, as if the words meant nothing. Yet for Colin, it was as if someone had proclaimed his world was flat, not round. He pulled her in his arms, and buried his face in her hair. “Please don’t ever leave me.”

  His fingers shook as he tried to unhook the intricate fastenings of her dress, but the bloody things wouldn’t give. He cursed in frustration, his hands clumsy, awkward things that would not cooperate. Seeing his difficulty, she moved his hands aside. “I’ll help.”

  Her gray eyes locked on his, so dark and mysterious. Her fingers were much more efficient, yet they still seemed far too slow, but one by one the tapes gave way. She slid her dr
ess over her shoulders, down over her hips, giving the most breath-stealing wiggle as she tossed it aside.

  The stays were next, the laces secured at her back, and she was unable to reach them on her own. He untied the cursed things, wondering if they had been invented simply to hinder a man’s needs. At this moment, he felt able to slay one and forty dragons in order to see his wife’s bare flesh.

  By the time she was clothed only in her shift, his patience had worn as thin as the material that covered her. He pulled, hearing the fabric rip, but not caring in the least.

  He reached for her, fast, furious, hasty.

  No, no, no.

  He let his hands fall to his sides, diggings his fingers into his palms, determined to fight his lust.

  “Colin?” She knelt before him on the bed and pulled his shirt over his head. The sight of so much white skin, her breasts, round and begging for his touch, made him ache and throb in ways he’d never known before. Her nipples brushed against his chest and he jumped.

  Oh, God.

  “Wait,” he said hoarsely. She looked ready to argue, but he pressed her back slowly, until she lay beneath him. He took one long breath, and the anger in her eyes turned to confusion. He smiled, his fingers brushing her shoulders, following the curves, tracing the shadows. He pressed his lips there, using his tongue to taste her skin, her scent filling him, arousing him. For a moment he closed his eyes and counted very exacting in his mind, waiting until the calm returned.

  With tender hands he cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing her nipples, watching her eyes flare with desire. “I owe you an apology for the other night. I should have done things differently.”

  His hands followed the curve of her stomach, slow, moving in lazy circles, and he watched her carefully, noting what places made her groan, and then he revisited those places once again. “Your method of apology is quite . . . refreshing,” she whispered, her hips curving upward into his hands.

  He caressed her thighs, drawing a line from her knee to her hip, moving carefully from the outside in, until he reached the red thatch of curls sheltered between her legs.

  Softly he touched her, and at her gasp, he moved his hand away. “Did I hurt you?”

  Her lower lip was caught between her teeth, her eyes were wide, but she shook her head.

  “Should I touch you again?”

  Quickly, she nodded.

  For that, he would pay Annie and Camilla extra. He found the folds of skin that covered her, she was all liquid warmth, and he put a finger inside her. It was something akin to heaven and hell, feeling her close around his finger, thinking of her closing around his sex, and he swallowed a groan.

  He explored the walls of her womb, finding the small piece of her that would bring her pleasure. He stroked carefully, her quiet whimper music to his ears. She took a pillow between her hands, crushing it, her head moving restlessly from side to side, as if fighting herself.

  She didn’t know the power of the storm inside her, and he would not cease until she did.

  And so he put his mouth on her.

  She tasted of salt and musk and he nearly exploded himself. He suckled and pulled, using his tongue, letting his teeth rasp over her satin flesh, concentrating only on her, determined to forget the enlarged, aroused, heavily tortured piece of his flesh that made it rather difficult to move.

  She made sounds then, strange, muffled sounds, and he looked up. She had buried her face in the pillow and looked close to suffocating herself. Well, he wasn’t nearly done yet. He smiled with purpose, and let his lips trail up over her stomach, her navel, and then return to her sex. He wasn’t nearly as gentle this time, he sucked hard, her body bucking and twisting against invisible bonds, but he was relentless.

  Each time her hips rose, he drove her harder, each time she dug her heels into the bed, he drove her faster. Finally, she surrendered. The pillow flew across the room, and she shrieked like a banshee.

  Her face was flushed, her mouth open and gasping for air, her hair a mass of tangles, and her eyes looked wild and unfocused. With a grim smile of victory, Colin discarded his breeches, and positioned himself between her thighs.

  This time he would bloody well get it right.

  When he entered her, he nearly lost it all. Every single one of his intentions and every bit of his control disappeared to some other place where he was not. He closed his eyes, and in his mind, recited the names of the largest, fiercest dragons that ever existed. Her hands slid up his chest, curled over his shoulders, and drew him further inside her.

  He began to move, slowly, carefully. Her gaze never wavered from his face, her mouth open, not speaking. Her hips answered his rhythm, and they began to move as one.

  Could this act, this complete joining of two people, ever be wrong? Everything about it seemed so right, so necessary. He smoothed the hair away from her face, wanting to tell her how much he loved her, how absolutely he needed her. She had given him a life he didn’t know he had. But words seemed worthless now. Instead, he bent his head, touched his lips against hers and lost himself in the silver depths of her eyes.

  As she stared at him, their bodies entwined, Sarah struggled to breathe. He was so strong, so powerful, and yet he could humble himself before her so easily. His movements were slow and careful, almost timid. She pulled him closer, until her breasts were flat against his chest, until she felt the beating of his heart, and then she kissed him.

  She wanted to seduce him, wanted him to lose the iron bands of control that seemed to restrain his movements. The wildness was gone, and she rather missed it. Timidly her tongue crept in his mouth, and moved with his, moving in time with their bodies. She arched her hips against him, wanting to feel his muscles tense, wanting to see the dangerous glint in his eyes.

  His breath came quicker, and he thrust faster, each stroke going deeper inside her, but his eyes remained constant, determined. And so she tried again. With cunning purpose, her hands explored the hard muscles at his back, the curves of his flanks, and still his eyes were steady.

  She buried her face in his neck, feeling the slick sweat that polished his skin. She pressed soft kisses against his flesh, and he moved faster.

  Everything within her belonged to him completely. He was the man she had waited for all of her life, and now he loved her.

  His chest pumped quickly, and she moved with him, letting the pleasure wash over in warm waves. Gradually, she forgot her resolve, and lost herself in his lovemaking. She could feel the steady building of pressure inside her, she knew what it was this time, would welcome it, not fight against it. And she locked her legs around him, arched her back, her fingers digging tightly into his shoulders.

  As soon as she found her release, he thrust quickly, deeply, and with one last stroke, he shuddered and collapsed.

  She held him tightly, treasuring the feel of his body sheltering hers, wondering how long it would be before he left again. She felt tears spilling from her eyes, but she didn’t move to wipe them away. She began to pray, to bargain with God, anything that would keep him with her. She wanted his body heavy on hers for more than tonight, she wanted to make him smile for more than a week.

  Blindly she found his lips, kissing him once more. She wouldn’t let him leave her. Not ever.

  “Sarah?” He wiped the tears from her cheeks and rolled until she lay on top of him. “What is it?”

  “You can’t go to Brussels. Promise. Give me your word.”

  “It will be fine.” Gently, he stroked her back, her hair, letting her cry.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Promise me you won’t go. You mustn’t do that.”

  “I love you, Sarah. Nothing will happen.” He kissed her tenderly, and tucked her in his arms.

  Her tears dried and some time later she fell asleep, and it wasn’t until the next morning that she realized he’d never given her his promise.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  They were all going to St. G
eorge today. Nancy had been badgering everyone, one minute anxious to leave, the next worrying about Ethan and what he would say and telling everyone she’d changed her mind. Sarah, understanding the girl’s nervousness completely, sat her down in a chair, and tried to relieve some of the girl’s nervousness.

  “Nancy, what’s bothering you?”

  The girl rested her chin on her fists, staring at Sarah mutinously. “He won’t want to see me at all. By now, he’s found some new pretty bit of muslin, he’ll have no use.”

  Having no personal experience with the fickleness of a young boy’s heart, Sarah wondered if perhaps that could be true. And there was nothing like a bit of jealousy to stiffen up a young girl’s spine. “Perhaps he has. But I can’t believe her eyes would be such a fine shade of misty blue. And her mouth would certainly not make as pretty a cupid bow as yours. Nor would her mind be nearly as sharp.” She sighed. “But, you must make the sacrifice after all. Leaving him for some cow-eyed miss with big teeth.”

  Nancy looked up, a glint of fire in her eyes. “Cow-eyed? I’ll flog meself before I let some young noddy turn cow-eyed over Ethan.”

  At last there was progress. Sarah stood and dusted her hands on her skirt. “Then perhaps we should be moving along, and stop dawdling. The sooner you see your young Ethan, the sooner you can rescue him.”

  The carriage ride to St. George was quite short. Nancy sat with her face pressed against the glass, Colin was in good spirits, seated next to her, far too close for her to forget the events of last evening.

  Not that she could ever forget; she would take those memories to her grave. She had never dreamed herself capable of achieving such an unbridled state of insensibility. Good heavens, was it any wonder the demireps wandered the streets with such a smug smile? Now she knew exactly what that smile meant. She put a finger to her lips, wondering if she was wearing such a smile. Oh my, she was smiling. Would everyone know?

  She turned to Colin and he smiled at her, and she felt a warm blush heating her cheeks. There was such possession in his look, in his very touch. Had Giles noticed this morning? She thought hard, trying to recall the butler’s expression and how he had treated her. He had served her breakfast with the usual aplomb, but perhaps his moustache had twitched with a touch more good humor than normal. Had he known? Or worse, had he heard?