In Good Conscience

by Gardiner, Cat

  “I purchased this land because of its proximity to a natural water resource and on a hot day like today it’s the perfect place to just get lost with you. If you don’t mind, I’d like to go for a swim and clean off all the road dust.”

  “Mind? …” they entered the clearing where three rock plateaus of fanning waterfalls fell into a clear swimming hole surrounded by bedrock. “I so do not mind,” she said with a light laugh.

  Hand-in-hand they stood in silent awe of the tranquil falls, enjoying the sound of nature and the absence of civilization. The sweet fragrance of wild honeysuckle and pine filled her lungs with each deep breath.

  Fitzwilliam broke the silence, but his gaze remained lost on the sunshine dancing upon the rippling pool at their feet. “I love you, Liz,” he softly said.

  “I know.”

  “And I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “I know that, too.”

  “I’ll not elaborate, but I hope you know that because of my love for you and my professional experiences, I may do things without explanation. You just need to trust me, no matter what. Right now, our life is not a normal one, but it will be after I set it right. I promise you. I … just ask that you—as you always do—continue to use lateral thinking in all things.”

  “Of course.” She hadn’t time to expand on the conversation when he turned to face her with a wistful smile, brushed his finger down her face then embraced her cheeks with the palms of his hands. His reverent kiss was the same one that told her that everything was going to be all right. She’d come to rely on the way his lips caressed her as a hidden message just for her, one that repeated “Trust me.” But today it quickly changed, searing in hunger and desperate need as though this opportunity would never come again.

  His impassioned hands pushed back her jacket, dropping it to the ground. Hers did the same to his. Their lips parted for only a second when he pulled his T-shirt over his head; she did the same with her tank top before she was back in his strong arms, their skin touching for the first time in almost two weeks. His mouth consumed hers with a fire she hadn’t felt since the day of the explosion when she emerged from the rubble, and she responded to its intensity with a throaty purr.

  She felt the already rock-hard size of his desire against her hip; it had been too long a separation and their bodies responded of their own immediate need for satiation. Her womanhood fluttered and clenched at the stiffness pressed between them.

  Quickly responding, her nimble fingers unbuttoned his jeans, releasing him into her hand; her husband’s moans of rapture filled the air when he dipped his head back.

  With a two-finger snap at her bra’s front closure, her breasts spilled into his ready hands, surrounding them, thumbs brushing her taught peaks. She arched her back, inviting more of his dizzying pleasuring, lost to each caress of her skin.

  “Let’s get out of these clothes … (kiss) … and go for a swim,” he whispered.

  “Yes. Oh, yes.”

  Disrobing as fast as they could, they kept glancing up at each other, and while she would have enjoyed him slowly peeling the leather from her, every second not touching his throbbing body was an unwelcome delay.

  Backdropped by the cascading fall, Fitzwilliam stood at the edge of the pool, nude and proud with his weight shifted onto his left hip, his right leg out slightly from his muscular body. Like a god of the forest, his tall, commanding physique was harder and more muscular than she’d ever seen, making his impressive manhood appear even more powerful. Dark eyes filled with desire drank in her own bare presentation, and he held out his hand to her.

  Wantonly exposed to the flora and fauna, she took his hand; they were Adam and Eve, devoid of shame in their nakedness, eager to become one in flesh, and uncaring should they be discovered.

  In one effortless scoop, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her deep into the cool water. The tickle of him brushing against her backside teased her and when he secured his footing at the bottom of the pool, he let go of her legs.

  “It’s cold,” she said.

  “I’ll warm you up.” His arms encircled her waist and his legs wrapped around hers.

  “I can’t wait,” she breathed, gliding both hands up his chest and over his shoulders to comb through the wet locks on his neck.

  “I promise, I’ll never shut you out like that again. I don’t think we’ve ever been physically apart this long since we got married.”

  “I need it fast, but I want it slow. I need you to give it to me hard, but I want to go all afternoon. God, I’ve missed the feel of you inside me,” she whispered into his ear as if verboten to admit her desires aloud.

  “Lizzy …” He breathed with a seductive lift to the corner of his mouth.

  Anytime he called her “Lizzy” she knew he couldn’t hold back from giving her what they both needed.

  “Follow me,” he softly said, taking her hand in his underwater.

  He led her to a submerged rock ledge smoothed by the centuries of gently flowing water. He sat on the stone, and her breath caught at the way the cascade hit his back and hair, rolling down his muscular chest. His engorged tip breached the surface, bidding her to ride with unadulterated desire.

  Grasping his bicep, she straddled his thighs, her lips hovering over his, her breath labored with passionate eagerness. Why did she feel nervous? This was her husband after all—but their emotions had been laid raw these days.

  So caught in the intensity of their locked eyes and the touch of his hand against her backside and the pressure of his arousal against her pubis, she couldn’t speak, only breathe—his anticipatory smolder was the match to their explosive coupling.

  He was beautiful: strength and honor, a calm and a storm, love and lust—and he was hers forever.

  His powerful hands grasped her waist, lifting her face to the stream of water as he lowered her onto his erection.

  They cried out in their rapturous connection, and he captured her mouth with his. Hungry lip suckles accompanied his upward, filling thrusts as she rode hard with the water showering upon them.

  They loved each other furiously with satisfied moans and total abandon. Deep and delicious, he touched her core, sending her soaring time and again.

  She didn’t think of anything beyond what he made her feel: desperate for all of him because it might be the last time.

  4

  Making a Memory

  “We’re not going to run into any hikers or hunters, are we?” Liz asked with the most alluring embarrassed flush to her cheeks.

  Darcy chortled. “Five minutes ago you were buck naked lounging beside a waterfall and didn’t seem to care.”

  She gasped. “You didn’t say there was a possibility of getting caught!”

  “Can you blame me? I had other things on my mind. Besides, it’s unlikely that anyone comes back here. The shell corporation I formed owns the farmhouse as well as 50 acres around this cabin, which—technically—includes the waterfall. It’s private, posted land,” he replied looking down at her as he held her hand through the forest. She posed quite an image, should they be happened upon: sheer bra and skimpy panties—and clunky boots.

  Looking up at him, she squeezed his hand tighter so that she wouldn’t lose her footing. “I’d be mortified if anyone saw us like this. Are you sure it was just a Forest Ranger?”

  “Don’t worry. I don’t think he’d care if he found me in my briefs, but you on the other hand …” he playfully smiled. His heart felt so light he could fly. Loving her twice in an hour had set him free from his anger—even if it only a temporary fix. That’s the thing about their connection—he might not always find the exact words in his heart, but he damn-straight knew how to tell her what he felt through sex.

  Rivulets of water from her slicked-back long hair rolled down her chest, absorbing into the mesh fabric clinging to her bosom. If he didn’t have plans for them, he’d head back to the pond—or against a tree. That had always been a secret desire of his:
untamed sex in the woods. Emotional release aside, the end to their abstinence had unleashed a teenage horndog.

  They neared the back door of the cabin and he dropped their bundled clothes onto the lone Adirondack chair facing out onto the forest. “Well … I hope you like the place,” he said turning the knob.

  “No key?”

  “Not today.”

  Anxious for her approval, he opened the door inviting her to enter before him as he watched her profile go from wariness to joy-infused when she crossed the threshold.

  “Oh. My. God.” In wonderment, she glanced over her shoulder to him. “How did you do this?”

  “Those tire tracks belonged to Higgins. I sent him down here this morning with explicit instructions. He does have a knack, doesn’t he?”

  “Oh, Fitzwilliam—it’s so beautiful!”

  He beamed, elated to see her so happy and that she appreciated the romantic details decorating the clean cabin: fresh flowers, a red rose petal-strewn new quilt, the table set for a romantic luncheon with linen and china. Chilled champagne and a full refrigerator waited for them for lunch.

  Bouncing her fingers on her thigh, she bit her lip to keep from crying, but it was useless—her eyes filled with tears. “You’re such a romantic mush.”

  Taking her fidgeting hand in his, he kissed her knuckles. “Only when it comes to you. Do you really like it? You’re not just saying that to make me feel good, are you?”

  “I was wrong … this place is a magical love nest. It’s the perfect getaway!”

  “There’s just an old turntable, no internet or television. There’s just you and me, the sun, and the stars—”

  “The waterfall and the swimming hole,”

  “And lazy days ahead when all the other crap is behind us.”

  “I love it.”

  “If you like, we can build on this log foundation, maybe add a loft in the vaulted ceiling, or a wing for the bedroom. Like I said, we own a lot of land, certainly enough for a stable, and I can expand the meadow just beyond here into a pasture for grazing.”

  “So, you’re saying you don’t want to eventually go back home to Virginia?”

  “Liz, you are my home and I want to go wherever you want.” He shrugged. “Geography makes no difference to me. It’s a big world and I’m open to the possibilities so long as you’re there.”

  “I feel the same, but I’m a Virginian—always will be, I guess.”

  “Yes. Seven generations … I know.”

  “Ha. Ha. You should be just as proud of your Virginian roots.”

  “You know I am, and I do hope to rebuild, but the land doesn’t define me. The legacy of what my family did on that land is what’s important to me. That’s where your father and I differ.”

  “I suppose, but this quaint little place is even more secluded than the farmhouse, and well …”

  “Okay, then how about we expand this into a getaway house that we design together.”

  She walked around the large rustic room, dragging her fingers across the white tablecloth. He could see the wheels turning in her mind as she considered his suggestion.

  “I could build you a beautiful greenhouse, maybe even try to replicate the one you love the most—the one at Longbourn.”

  Was he trying too hard? He wanted to get today just right—needed to say all the right things for them both to hold onto after tomorrow morning. He wasn’t this nervous before his departure for Peru in April, but this was different, way different—different enough that he could lose her forever. Shaking that untenable thought from his mind, he refocused on their future—together.

  “Or … we could just keep it small and special like this, just one room and give it a woman’s touch,” she said dreamily.

  “If that’s what you want. Whatever you want, babe.”

  “Yes. That’s what I want.”

  “I’ll build a bathroom though.”

  Her head snapped up. “What?”

  “Yeah … there’s an outhouse back in the woods.”

  “Oh Lord. You were really going all-out hermit, weren’t you? Does anyone other than Nick know where this cabin is?”

  “Nope. Not even Gigi.” He walked to her standing beside the fireplace and took her hand. “Could you remember how to get here without me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then don’t forget this place when I’m gone, not just for the memories we’ll make here today, but if you feel in the least bit of danger, I want you to come here with either Higgins or Dixon. Otherwise … (kiss) this will remain our secret love shack.”

  Sliding her hands up his bare chest, she cooed, “I promise, but when you get back I want air conditioning in here, darling.”

  “Yes, dear. For today, we’ll have to settle on that fan, maybe even lunch in our underwear.” He couldn’t help but to wiggle his eyebrows.

  “I like that; underwear only should be our rule whenever we’re here. Now what’s for lunch? I’m starved!”

  “I’m not sure what Higgins was able to find so early in the morning, but so far he hasn’t missed a thing.”

  From the compact refrigerator, he removed bottled water, an antipasto of cheeses and meats—even shrimp! Hummus, olives, and an assortment of other delicacies that Higgins miraculously found. The man must have gone into Asheville before coming down into the valley, and that meant they’d luckily missed him by mere minutes, otherwise it would have ruined the surprise.

  Liz set the food out on the coffee table then relocated the dishware and champagne glasses, but not before snapping one of the white daisy stems overflowing from the coffee can vase and sliding it into her hair. This was her day and if she wanted to sit on the sofa to eat, so be it, which was fine with him because he wanted to touch her, not sit across a table from her on a wooden chair.

  “Nick outdid himself; you should give him a raise. Who knew that huge hunk had a romantic touch inside him.”

  “Higgins picking daisies …” He snorted, “Now, that would have been a photograph to send to his kids.”

  She kicked off her boots then sat cross-legged on the sofa. The flower in her hair and the way she twisted her neck as she bit into the curved shrimp fascinated him, giving him pause, thumbs braced at the bottom of the champagne cork. There were many imprints made to his mind today, but this one of her toned body glistening from perspiration—in see-through undergarments—as she bit into the pink crustacean, and the rosy hue to her cheeks from their lovemaking, made him nearly pop his own cork.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked with a full mouth.

  “Nothing, you’re just …” Tongue-tied, he shook his head with a smile.

  Liz snorted a laugh and went back to eating, snapping him from his admiration. A pop to the cork sent it flying across the room, which he did deliberately just to hear her laugh.

  Hopefully the champagne wouldn’t knock her on her ass. They only had about four hours before leaving for the farmhouse. As skilled a rider as she had become, she was not ready for navigating the mountains in the dark and definitely not when drunk.

  Sitting beside her, he, too, crossed his legs on the deep sofa then poured their champagne.

  “What shall we toast to, Lakmé?”

  “Hmm … Us, for starters, the tango, opera … children, and happiness. Forever.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  He kissed her, hoping upon all that was holy that that plan was the one to outlive all the others, no matter what.

  The afternoon drifted by with Otis Redding vinyl records spinning on the turntable and languid conversation about their dreams until the last song played “These Arms of Mine.” His girl leaned back against the pillow at the armrest, propping her bare feet onto his lap. Their gaze locked on each other and a comfortable silence settled onto their romantic interlude as the lyrics floated around them. She was dissecting him, maybe admiring, definitely thinking of something that amused her evident by the quirk to her lips.

  “I love watching you, watching me,” he
finally said, caressing the top of her foot.

  The wiggling of her painted toenails, alerted him to her desire and, of course, he complied, always enjoying how her perfect toes felt in his hands. Sometimes, she’d giggle, most times she moaned in response to his massaging ministrations. Today, she just simply instructed, “Make it good since you’re leaving me in the morning.”

  Startled, he furrowed his brow. “You know?”

  “Of course, silly. Why else would you go through all this trouble to make today so special?”

  Oh, she was so brave; what a front she had put on today. It was almost as masterful as his own.

  “I didn’t realize I was that transparent.”

  “Babe, it’s what you don’t say that usually gives you away.”

  “That’s not entirely true.” Sure it is. He’d just admitted it to himself moments before.

  Rolling her eyes she said, “For example, that first time I met you at the dance school. I felt like such an awkward spaz, technically alone with my two left feet and no dance partner, Jane making moves on everyone in pants, and Bill ignoring me while making googly eyes at his partner. And then you thundered in—my tall, dark, and mysterious hero.”

  “And your point is?”

  “That once I was able to ascertain that your menacing scowl didn’t represent fault finding, it became clear that you had the hots for me from the moment you saw me through the glass. Further, you were fighting the feeling tooth and nail. When dancing with me, you said absolutely nothing, yet I knew you wanted to rip the blue sundress off my body and screw me right there.”