Southern Seduction

by Brenda Jernigan

  "Formalities," deLobel said gruffly. "It makes our family look bad."

  She started to tell him that she really didn’t care, but he held his hand up.

  "However, now that I know the reason, I can see why he changed his mind so quickly and did the proper thing. You’re fortunate that the man did his duty.” He nodded, though his stone-faced expression did not alter. “I give the boy some credit on that point. His mother never did correct her mistake."

  So his grandfather was really angry with Travis’s mother and he directed that anger at Travis. What a shame. Brooke would store that tidbit of information away for future use.

  She didn't care for the man's snide attitude one bit, but his comment was telling, whether he’d intended it or not. "Yes, it was gallant of Travis, wasn't it?"

  "I just said so, did I not?” the man snapped. “At least, you have gotten what you wanted?"

  Brooke gave the tyrant a sweet smile and said softly, "Have I?"

  Archie deLobel’s face screwed up into a frown as if he couldn’t decipher what she meant. As a lull in the conversation lengthened, Travis strode back over to them, keeping his grandfather from saying any more.

  "Grandfather, I see that you are getting aquatinted with my wife.”

  “Yes, I am.” He scowled. “You will have to teach the woman to curb that sharp tongue of hers,” he told Travis as if Brooke wasn’t even in the room much less standing in front of him.

  Travis just smiled. “There will be plenty of time for that,” he said lightly. Now if you'll excuse us, we’ve been instructed to take a seat at the head table."

  Travis tucked Brooke’s hand under his arm and led her away from his grandfather. “I see you and the old man got off to a good start. So, how did you find my grandfather?" Travis asked as they made their way to their special seats.

  "He's rather a pompous ass," Brooke commented, keeping her voice low and smiling sweetly in greeting to another wedding guest.

  Travis burst out laughing, causing many heads to turn. "At least we agree on something, my dear," he said as he pulled the chair out for her.

  The feast began as soon as everyone was seated. Brooke was hungry and she didn't hold back. She'd barely picked at her breakfast, so everything tasted wonderful, especially the savory gumbos.

  She glanced up and caught Travis looking at her. “Most brides are too nervous to eat and just pick at their food,” he said. “I see you are not having that trouble.”

  Brooke smiled at his comment. “I would think you would have noticed by now that I’m not like most women,” she informed him, using a napkin to hide her smile of triumph.

  “So I’m finding out.”

  “Perhaps you should explain the difference between Cajun and Creole,” she suggested, lowering her napkin. “That way I can understand what is so great about being Creole. Your grandfather makes me believe that if you are not Creole, then your blood is tainted.”

  “That is precisely the way he thinks,” Travis said with a wry smile. He placed his fork on the side of his plate. “The Cajuns trace themselves directly to the Acadian French who were expelled from Nova Scotia. By your people, I might add. And Creoles trace their heritage from the French and Spanish who came here directly from Europe. My relatives, being French, are very proud people.”

  “So I’ve found out, and also rather rude, I might add.” She smiled sweetly. “I hate to tell you, darling, but you are also English on your father’s side.”

  “That I know, and my grandfather misses no chance to remind me of that. That’s why I’m an outcast,” Travis said matter-of-factly. However, I do have Creole in my blood. As far as he is concerned, there is no hope for you.” Travis chuckled. “You are entirely English.”

  “An entirely unacceptable state of affairs,” she concluded.

  “Precisely.”

  As the celebration continued, champagne corks popped and bubbly liquid flowed freely. Every time Brooke turned around, someone was there to fill her glass. Soon she felt light-hearted and, yes, she had to admit, happy. It scared her to admit that, even to herself. How could she be so happy when she knew Travis didn’t really love her? He lusted for her like many men had. That’s why she needed to be careful and distance herself -- because she could care for this man.

  Travis was a complex man, and it would take considerable effort for her to completely understand him. Surely, the result would be well worth the challenge. Perhaps once she got to know him better, they might actually be able to pass a peaceful year together.

  But then what? Brooke didn’t want to think about that now. She had a year to decide what to do. For now she wanted to enjoy the moment.

  Travis took pleasure in watching his wife when she didn’t know he was looking. Despite his intention to treat her indifferently, he found he truly enjoyed his new wife’s company. She was everything a man could desire in a woman. Not only was she beautiful, but she was intelligent as well, and he enjoyed talking with her and being in her company.

  Perhaps this hadn’t been such a bad arrangement after all. He’d always intended to get marry one day, so why not to Brooke? She was certainly more desirable then Hesione. However, he most definitely wouldn’t give up the plantation in a year, nor did he think Brooke would be willing to sell her portion, either. And so they would return to a stalemate.

  Maybe at the end of the year they just might stay together. All he had to do was remain in control, and make sure not to fall in love with the head-strong woman. He had enough problems without risking his heart as well. That was, if he had one. Of course, if Brooke were pregnant by then she couldn’t leave.

  The music began, and Travis took Brooke’s elbow and escorted her to the dance floor. "I believe the first waltz is reserved for us, my dear," he said, placing his hand lightly on her waist and guiding her across the floor.

  For a few minutes, all Travis thought about was the soft music as he whirled his new wife around the dance floor. It gave him time to drink in the beauty of his bride, so blushingly radiant that she made men turn and look her way.

  "Are you enjoying yourself?"

  The champagne had relaxed her so Brooke was indeed thoroughly enjoying herself as she whirled gently around in the arms of her husband, watching the crowd over his broad shoulder.

  Her husband, she thought. What was she going to do with a husband? Well, she knew one thing. She smiled to herself, anticipating the wedding night. After that, what would their lives be like?

  Brooke looked up at Travis and found herself gazing into his ice-blue eyes. She could feel the sexual magnetism that made him so self-confident and resistible. He seemed to have mesmerized her, and she couldn’t think clearly. She did manage a small tentative smile. “What did you say?”

  He tightened his grip, pulling her closer to his body. Most indecent, she thought, enjoying every moment of it. Travis’s gaze moved down her face as if he were memorizing it, and finally rested on her lips. “I asked if you were having a good time.”

  "Yes, I am,” she admitted fuzzily. There was something lazily seductive in her look. “Everything has been very lovely. And you?"

  He gave her a devilish smile. "It wasn’t nearly as painful as I had imagined it might be," he confessed dryly.

  Brooke laughed. "Thank you, I think. I’m surprised at how well you dance,” she commented gaily. “Some still believe that the waltz is a scandalous dance.” She pointed out. “When I was a child, my mother told me that the Prince Regent held a ball in London where the participants danced the waltz, and a few days later The Times stated: ‘We remarked with pain that the indecent foreign dance called the Waltz was introduced at the English court on Friday,’” Brooke said with a very heavy accent. “’We feel it a duty to warn every parent against exposing his daughter to so fatal a contagion.’”

  Travis threw back his head and laughed. “I take it you did not heed the advice?”

  “I rather like the dance as well as doing things that will shock others,” she said with a
flippant smile. “Besides we have on all our clothes, so how indecent could it be?”

  “You’ll not have on your clothes much longer, my dear,” Travis informed her with a devilish grin as the waltz came to an end. Brooke felt her pulse suddenly leap with excitement.

  He took Brooke’s elbow to escort her over to the refreshment table. “We will be leaving in just a few moments."

  Well, he is most certainly making his intentions clear, Brooke thought with a delightful tingle of anticipation. She’d caught the anxious sound of his voice and couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease. “Really?” Brooke said. “And where, may I ask, are we going?”

  Travis drained a flute of champagne, tipping it high to get the last drop, before answering. "One of the Creole traditions is that the bride and groom do not leave their bedroom for at least five days."

  Oooo, I like that, Brooke thought to herself. She smiled, thinking of yet another Creole tradition . . . they had many, and wondering if someone had to actually watch to prove they had consummated the marriage. "You cannot be serious."

  "Oh, but I am,” Travis nodded. “So I have booked passage for us on a riverboat for a small cruise up the Mississippi. I thought you might enjoy the trip.” When he saw the look of concern on her face, he added, “The paddlewheel ride is very different than the ship you sailed over on. This way, we'll be away from my family and we can relax."

  "What about the plantation?"

  "Ah, a true businesswoman," he remarked, smiling. "I like that. I asked Jeremy to look after everything, or at least the rest of the crops. The storm did so much damage that there is not much to do but prepare the soil for next season. And Mr. Jeffries said he would stay and take care of the financial arrangements at the bank while we’re gone."

  "It sounds like you have taken care of everything," Brooke said, not sure whether to be pleased or annoyed at his taking charge. Then again, it felt good to let someone else take care of decisions. She’d never had anyone to lean on before. It was nice.

  "I try to. Now you’re the only task left on my list."

  Brooke feigned a sigh. “And that would be?”

  He gave her a wolfish grin. “I believe you know the answer to that question, my dear.”

  “Task, you say.” She tilted her head. “You make it sound like a chore,” she whispered.

  “Yes,” Travis replied. “And a delightful chore it will be.”

  Travis and his new bride arrived at the levee and boarded the Natchez sometime around ten in the evening. The boat was a magnificent creation of wood and metal, shrouded and mysterious in the darkness.

  Captain Leathers was there to welcome them aboard. Brooke couldn’t see the man clearly in the darkness, but Travis had told her on the way over that riverboat captains were treated almost like gods in Louisiana society. Most had designed and built their own boats, and knew the river as well as their own bodies. Travis had told her that Leathers was one of the toughest captains he knew, and the best on the Mississippi River.

  “Welcome aboard the Natchez, ma’am,” the captain said in a slow southern drawl. “Most of our passengers will be boarding in the morning,” he told her. “Since this is a special day for you both, I’ve made an exception.”

  Brooke smiled her thanks before the porter took Travis’s bag. “This way ma’am.”

  The porter showed Brooke to their stateroom, which he volunteered was the largest cabin on the ship and ever so much nicer than the cramped space she had shared with Jocelyn and Shannon on the trip over from England.

  Telling Brooke that he would be along shortly, Travis stayed behind to speak with Captain Leathers. Brooke supposed that he wanted to give her some privacy, and she appreciated that. It might not be her first time making love, but it would be her first time as a married woman.

  Brooke stepped quietly into the stateroom. Once inside, she was surprised by its elegance. It was spacious. There was a huge Tester bed in the center of the room, and there were real windows that provided a splendid view of the Mississippi River. The windows were dressed with white, billowing, lace curtains. In the corner sat a chair and a large looking glass flanked a small vanity. Cream-colored carpet covered the floor. Next to the door, Brooke spied her trunk. Evidently, Millie Anne had been privy to the secret and had packed her things.

  Brooke smiled as she crossed to the trunk and opened the lid. On top was a snow-white nightgown, a favorite of hers. She picked it up and gave it a good shake clear the wrinkles. The top was constructed of fine, transparent lace that fit snuggly over her breasts in an Empire style which tied under her breasts with pink and blue ribbons. Yards and yards of fine sateen would swing seductively around her hips.

  Brooke wanted to make sure she was wearing the gown when Travis came in, so she began to work on the many hooks on her dress until she was finally free of its restraints. She placed the wedding gown over the back of the chair and slipped into the nightgown. She loved the way the fabric felt smooth and cool against her skin.

  Plucking the rest of the hairpins from her hair, Brooke shook her head, making her hair flow, wild and free, all around her shoulders and down her back. She stood in front of the mirror and admired the way the material shimmered when she mowed. It seemed to cling to her body in just the right places.

  She looked around, smiling with satisfaction. The room was bathed in soft candlelight . . . everything was perfect.

  She was ready. All she needed now was a groom.

  Travis paced the deck until he figured he'd given Brooke enough time to prepare for bed. He knew how shy and timid most women were when it came to taking off their clothes in front of a man. He just hoped that Brooke had left at least one candle burning so he wouldn’t break his fool neck entering the room.

  Pausing outside the door, he reached for the brass handle, and drew in a deep breath. He’d dreamed of this night. The knob turned easily under his touch. This is a good sign, he thought. At least he hadn’t been locked out of the room. He shoved open the door.

  Stepping inside, he found not one but several candles burning. The room was bathed in light not dark like he expected, and the bed had been turned back.

  Everything looked inviting.

  Opening the door wider, he saw Brooke sitting at the small dressing table brushing her long, golden hair. The first thing that struck him was that her gown was cut so low in the back that every time she moved, he caught an enticing glimpse of creamy, white skin. A lot of skin . . . no high-necked gowns for her.

  She must have seen his reflection in the mirror, for she smiled at him and ask, "What are you thinking?"

  "I'm thinking how ravishing you are, and how much I'm going to enjoy this night," he admitted, his voice husky with desire. He walked over to stand behind her and placed a hand on her soft shoulder.

  Brooke leaned into his caress, then pushed away from the table and turned around to face him. Travis could see a body of pure perfection outlined by the delicate fabric. His body burned with desire, and he felt like a man trapped in the desert as he started unbuttoning his clothes, suddenly clumsy.

  He felt as though he'd been struck deaf and dumb as he stared at the lovely creature he'd married. Her gown left nothing at all to the imagination. The way it clung to her in all the right places made his heart beat twice as fast. Her nipples strained invitingly against the lace bodice.

  By God, she’s going to kill me before I get my damn clothes off, he thought desperately, still fumbling with the buttons.

  "Here let me help you," Brooke purred. She pushed his clumsy hands out of the way and made short work of the task.

  Travis drew in a deep, relived breath. Brooke smelled so fresh and clean, and her hair smelled like flowers.

  After she'd freed the buttons, she slowly pushed the shirt away from his body, her small hands teasing him with her touch. All he could do was to stand there, helpless much like a young boy. Next she ran her hands over his chest, causing his breath to catch in his throat. That snapped Travis out of his stup
or, and he hastily undid his trousers and disposed of them.

  Now it was his turn. He wanted to see all of Brooke. However, she was distracting him by placing kisses on his chest. If she kept that up he'd surely go mad, he thought, so he placed his hands on her arms and pushed her a step away from him.

  "Now, I want to see all of you," he told her thickly as he slipped his fingers under the thin straps and slipped them off her shoulders. Her gown slid seductively down her naked body, landing in a pool of shimmering satin on the floor.

  For the second time tonight, Travis’s breath caught in his throat as he gazed upon pure perfection. Why did he feel like this was his first time making love?

  Perhaps it was because it was the first time with Brooke.

  There was just something about her that was different from the other women he’d known. And she most definitely was not bashful.

  He gave that to her.

  She stepped brazenly into his arms then tilted her face up to him, her golden eyes glowing like a cat in the dark. He had a vague sensation of being stalked -- she was the cat and he was the bait. Feeling a tightening in his loins, he knew he wanted her more than he'd ever wanted a woman before. He wanted to kiss those sultry lips into submission. And do many more indecent things with her.

  Her flesh was creamy and soft beneath his fingers. Her breasts were round and firm and they stood waiting, inviting his touch.

  Brooke turned into his arms. The moment she did, Travis wrapped his strong arms around her, molding her body to his hard one.

  Brooke loved the feel of him. There were muscles everywhere she touched. She deliberately pressed her breasts against his chest, and the responding shiver she received told her he wasn't unaffected by her. He may not love her, but he wanted her, at least for now. His body’s response told her it was the one way she would be able to control him.

  Standing up on her tiptoes, Brooke placed a soft kiss on his chin, then strained to reach upward until she found his lips. He responded, kissing her tenderly at first, but when she slid her arms around his neck, she found she'd awakened the beast within him.