Diamonds and Dreams

by Rebecca Paisley

  “Saber, I can’t talk about this!” she shouted, her voice muffled in his chest. “You—”

  “You really and truly believe you’re ugly, don’t you?” he continued, his heart thrashing. “You think that everything about you is homely and undesirable. This sorrow I’ve noticed in you... Goldie, how can I make you see how very wrong you are?”

  “You’ve got my face pressed so hard against you, I can’t see anything, dammit!”

  He relaxed his hold on her, deciding then and there to tell her the truth about who he was. He’d tell her that as the Duke of Ravenhurst, he could have his pick among the most beautiful women in England, but that no other woman he knew attracted him the way she did. He took a breath and prepared to enlighten her.

  But his breath remained trapped inside him. If she knew he was Lord Marion Tremayne, would she still feel comfortable with him? Would she still tease him, tell him outrageous tales, giggle and smile for him? Would she continue treating him like the ordinary man she thought him to be? Or would his title intimidate her?

  He had to know.

  “Goldie,” he began, pausing, “If you were to ever meet the real Duke of Ravenhurst, how would you act with him?”

  She felt relieved that he’d changed the subject. But his question was so unrelated to what they’d been talking about that she had to think a moment before she could answer him. “Well, I don’t know. He’s purty close to royalty, y’know, and Mildred Fickle said you’re supposed to bow to royal people. So I reckon I’d bow to him. But I’d be a little afraid to be around him. Mildred Fickle said royal people can have folks’ heads chopped off if they want to. I’d try not to do anything bad enough to make Duke Ravenhurst have my head chopped off for it, but you just never know what might happen. And then—” She closed her mouth, sliding her finger across her throat.

  At that moment, Saber knew with certainly he would not tell her who he was until he absolutely had to. The thought of her feeling she should bow to him irritated him greatly. He would prove to her how beautiful she was, yes, but without admitting who he was. “Goldie, I seriously doubt you could do something so wrong as to be beheaded for it.”

  She saw that softness in his gaze again. It sent her senses reeling. “Saber.”

  He knew exactly what she was feeling. He felt it too. “Goldie,” he started, desire coiling through him. “What happened between us yesterday in the closet...”

  “I know. We’re supposed to forget it happened,” she replied, trying to ignore her disappointment.

  “And have you forgotten it?”

  “No,” she answered honestly. “Have you?”

  “I tried.”

  “But you didn’t?”

  “No.” He placed his hands on her cheeks. “Goldie.”

  “Saber.”

  He bent closer to her, his eyes only a fraction of an inch away from hers.

  “Are you gonna kiss me, Saber?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  “Is the thought so terrible?”

  “No, but...”

  “But what?”

  “I—Saber, I don’t know how to kiss.”

  “Then let me teach you.”

  “But what if you laugh? What if—” She never finished her questions.

  Saber’s lips were suddenly upon hers.

  Chapter Eleven

  He kissed her as softly as he knew how, only touching his lips to hers. Smoothing them across hers, he relished the satiny texture of her mouth. Desire exploded inside him, but he felt profound yearning to go slowly with her, to woo her gently, allowing all his tender feelings for her to come forth. This in mind, he lifted his head and smiled down at her.

  Goldie’s fingers trembled as she touched her mouth. She traced her lips, remembering the kiss Saber had just placed upon them. A myriad of intense emotions swirled through her. She felt warm. Elated. She felt a tremendous want for something she instinctively knew Saber could give her.

  But she didn’t know how to ask for it. Didn’t even know if it was right for her to do so. She knew only that his kiss had meant more to her than anything anyone had ever done for her. “You didn’t laugh,” she whispered. “You don’t look mad either. And you really did kiss me. I didn’t dream it.”

  The expression of pure wonder in her huge tawny eyes set Saber afire. God, she was so innocent. So fresh and unspoiled. “You think your ignorance to be an undesirable thing, don’t you, Goldie?” he asked, his understanding steadily deepening. “You’re ashamed that you know so little about the things that can happen between a man and a woman. Ah, golden angel, if only you knew what your sweet inexperience means to me.”

  She blinked, wanting with all her heart to believe the wonderful things he was telling her. “I—You could show me. Show me what it means to you.”

  Her poignant offer touched the deepest part of him. She stood before him, vulnerable. He could almost read her thoughts. She knew very well she stood the chance of being hurt by him, and yet she was hoping he wouldn’t do that to her.

  It was the beginning of trust, and she was giving him the chance to prove himself worthy of it. His heart soared.

  “Yes, Goldie,” he whispered, kissing her cheek, “I could show you. Put your arms around my neck and let me.”

  She did and caught the faint scent of sandalwood when he bent down to her. The fragrance beckoned to her. Hesitantly, she pressed her face into the warm hollow of his throat. Her lips parted, and she felt a strange, but intense desire to taste the warm skin beneath them. Before she even realized what she was doing, she was fulfilling her own wish.

  Saber groaned when he felt her tongue darting so lightly upon his throat. “Goldie. Goldie. God, what do you do to me?” he asked huskily.

  She lifted her face from him immediately, her arms falling to her sides. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do anything.”

  “I think,” he started, swallowing, “that that is precisely why you succeed in doing it to me.”

  She gasped when he swept her into his arms. “Saber—”

  “Goldie, let me show you. Let me show you.”

  She looked into his beautiful seaweed eyes, finding nothing in them to distrust. She nodded and felt anticipation rise.

  He carried her to the window, something inside him wanting to see the pale silver of the moonlight mingle with the burnished gold of her hair. There, he sank to the floor, carrying her with him. “I have a confession to make,” he said, his voice as soft as the tawny stars he saw in her eyes. “Yesterday as you slept beneath the lace...I watched you, Goldie.”

  Her eyes widened; she felt her cheeks heat. Profound embarrassment coursed through her. That he’d seen her—naked again. With all of her defects. She covered her face with her hands.

  Gently, he removed her hands, holding them captive in his own. “I stood there mesmerized, Goldie. I thought you were so beautiful, I couldn’t even move while gazing at you. Light touched you all over, as did the lace. You were white and gold, and shadow. So delicate, gentle, and soft.”

  “Saber, you shouldn’t have—”

  “I know. I know, Goldie. It was wrong. But I couldn’t make myself leave. Your golden curls were spread all over your little white pillow, and you looked like an angel. I stared at those incorrigible ringlets and knew a deep yearning to slide my fingers through them. Like this, Goldie. Like this.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed when he slowly pushed his fingers into her hair. Humiliation seized her when his hand stopped suddenly. She knew very well he could get his fingers no further. Her curls were simply too thick, too wild for him to get through them. She took hold of his hand, having every intention of removing it.

  “It knew it would be like this,” he murmured down to her, resisting her efforts to pull at his hand. “I knew your curls would capture my fingers. It’s as if they’re alive. They twist and coil around my hand. As if they’re embracing me. Soft. God, they’re so soft, Goldie. The softest things I’ve ever touched.”

  She opened her e
yes. “Saber...really?”

  He smiled, removed his hand from her hair, and touched his thumb to each of her eyelids, “Devil eyes, Goldie? No. Of course I’ve never seen Lucifer, but I can’t imagine that he has beautiful eyes. Only an angel could have eyes like yours. Gold eyes. And have you never given a thought to how costly gold is? How valuable? Yet real gold, as precious as it is, is lifeless, isn’t it? It doesn’t move, does it? And it’s cold, too. But your eyes...so warm. They’re like huge gold coins that dance in tune to your thoughts. Gold brought to life. How enchanting.”

  She blinked several times, sure this was a dream and that she would wake up soon. “Gold brought to life,” she repeated quietly, loving the way those words sounded.

  His hands moved along the sides of her face “A heart. Your face is the shape of a heart. A dainty one, perfectly formed. And your lips. God, how lovely they are. Little, but full. Pink, lush. Do you know, Goldie Mae, that when I look at them I always think about how kissable they are?”

  His question stole her breath. Her throat tightened, her body quivered. Saber. Her mouth formed the name, but no sound came.

  He raised an ebony brow. “And about those freckles of yours...” he began, deliberately letting his voice trail away. “I must be honest with you, Goldie. I don’t know a single woman who has any.”

  Her growing pleasure disappeared, replaced with sorrow so great it made her ache. “Saber, please don’t—”

  “And all those women I know,” he continued, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “are the same. Their complexions look like they all came out of the same bottle. So flawless, so utterly without blemish that they’re really quite boring. But your complexion—As I watched you sleeping yesterday, I thought of warm, rich cream with flecks of cinnamon on top.”

  Confusion seized her. She didn’t know whether to feel flattered or hurt. She floated somewhere between both, ready to go toward one or the other as soon as he elaborated.

  “If I look close,” he told her, bending nearer, “I can see pictures on your face. Here,” he said, touching her left cheekbone, “your freckles form a little star. And here,” he said, caressing her chin, “is a diamond. Next to it is a flower. How fascinating. A girl with stars and diamonds and flowers on her face. What a good time heaven must have had designing your complexion. Close your eyes and think of all those little cherubs, each with a bucket of freckles. Each one arranging the freckles to form pretty pictures. How special that makes you, Goldie.”

  She did as bade, closing her eyes and smiling when she imagined the chubby angels with their buckets of freckles. Her pleasure came back to her. How special that makes you, Goldie. The words sang through her.

  “Open your eyes now, Goldie.” When she did, he saw her happiness. It shone, danced, and flickered prettily for him. The sight filled him with warm contentment, and he realized he was truly enjoying coercing her to see herself as he saw her. It was a challenge, yes, but oh, how sweet the reward!

  Slowly, he moved his gaze from her eyes to her breasts. Her brown frock covered them. He would remedy that problem.

  Goldie felt a surge of panic when his fingers began tugging at the shoulder of her dress. He slid it down to her upper arm. “Saber—”

  “Peaches,” he informed her on a long, heavy breath, and moved his hand to her other arm to slide the dress down that one, too. “How can you think of figs, Goldie? Unripened ones! Don’t you know they’re hard? Your breasts...figs? No, Goldie. Peaches. Peaches,” he whispered huskily, “are soft.”

  Goldie gasped when he slid his hand inside her dress. His warm palm cupped her breast. Starting at her nipple, the feelings he evoked radiated throughout her entire body, leaving quivers in their wake. A strange, flowing pleasure writhed within her.

  “Soft,” he told her again, his voice deep and mellow as he pulled the dress down to her waist. “Think of peaches. A swirl of pastel colors. Round, warm. Feel how nicely they fit into my hand, Goldie. They’re neither too big, nor too small. They’re perfect.”

  “Peaches?” she asked, so thrilled with his description she could think of no more words to tell him.

  His other hand moved to cup her other one. He held them both, and felt rising excitement. But he summoned patience, renewing his vow to go slowly with the golden treasure lying in his lap. “And see how prettily they blush. Ah, Goldie, see how beautiful they are next to my hands.”

  Her gaze left his eyes, sweeping to her breasts. Her cheeks warmed again at the sight. No one had ever touched her so intimately. So gently. And her breasts did fit into his palms. They fit as though they had been made for his hands.

  His alone. The thought was so beautiful to her.

  As leisurely as possible, Saber slid his thumbs back and forth upon the stiffening peaks of her breasts. He became lost both in the pleasure shimmering from her golden eyes and the low mewling sounds escaping from her slightly parted lips. “Goldie,” he told her, wanting her to understand every emotion he put into the sound of her name. “You are so delicate. Yes, Goldie, you are a poppet. Small, precious, and irresistible. Your daintiness is not a thing to ridicule. It’s a thing to prize. I often imagine you being swept away in a strong wind, and the thought makes me yearn to hold you close to me. In my arms. Where you’ll be safe, and no wind can steal you from me.

  “And when I call you a poppet,” he continued silkily, “that is the picture I have in my mind. You. In my arms. Me. Holding you like this, Goldie. God, just like this.”

  He pulled her from his lap, holding her as he would a fine and precious doll, and let forth a low moan when her bare breasts touched his chest. His hand plundered the golden mass of curls lying on his arm. His other hand held her tightly to him.

  And he kissed her. It was a kiss of passion, longing, and a tenderness so deep it almost hurt as it flowed through him. “Goldie,” he told her, his lips still pressed to hers. “Open for me.”

  His voice seemed to be coming from a hundred miles away. But somehow it found its way through the haze of pleasure he’d brought. Open for me, he’d told her.

  Saber groaned when her lips parted for him. He’d never known such sweetness existed. Desire such as he’d never felt for any other woman took hold of him. He touched her breast again. He held it. Savored the way it felt.

  And wanted to taste it.

  “Peaches,” he whispered, lifting his face from hers. His lips at her chin, he began the slow, delicious journey to her breasts.

  “Saber.” She tensed at this new thing he was doing to her.

  His lips found and loved her. “Peaches,” he murmured, his mouth full of her. “Sweet. So sweet.”

  Goldie felt wave after wave of longing rock through her. How she yearned for...for something that would satisfy her! That would put an end to this glorious agony Saber brought to her. “Saber, your mouth—Your lips—”

  “And hands,” he added, and slid his hand down the smooth, flat expanse of her ivory belly. Lower he went. Still lower until his hand disappeared beneath her skirt. The sensual blazes grew higher within him when he found no undergarments to delay his quest. “God, Goldie. You wear nothing—Nothing under your dress.”

  “Oh, Saber. Not there. You can’t... I—Please.”

  His fingers stopped. He let them rest unmoving upon the silken nest at the apex of her thighs. He waited in silence for her to give him some clue as to what she wanted him to do. “Tell me,” he whispered, his tongue circling her breast. “Tell me, Goldie.”

  She couldn’t. She couldn’t speak, or breathe, or even think. Spiraling through her was a desire so great it stole every thought she had. Every thought but the one of Saber and what he was doing to her. Instinctively, she arched into his hand.

  It was all the hint he needed. “What I am about to do,” he began, pressing kisses to her cheeks, temples, and brow, “will bring you pleasure, Goldie. The kind of pleasure a man desires to give to a beautiful woman.”

  She felt a shred of fear at this unknown pleasure he wa
s going to give her. “I don’t know what you’re sayin’, Saber. I’ve never...”

  “I know you haven’t,” he told her, his lips at her ear. “But tonight you will. For the first time, tonight you will.”

  She felt his hand dip lower. His fingers found her most secret place. She knew she blushed, but she was beyond caring. The pleasure he’d spoken of, the one he’d already begun, sharpened. His hand, his warm palm made moist by her, circled rhythmically upon her. And then he was inside her. First one finger, then two. He moved them in, out, deep, deep, deeper.

  “Give yourself up to it, Goldie. Let it happen. Let me make it happen to you.”

  She clutched his shoulders, closing her eyes. It was beginning. Something strong. Something she felt she had no control over. It was a thing of power, and Saber mastered it. It was a beautiful wave, and Saber directed it onto her. It drowned her with feelings too wonderful to contain. She felt as though she were awash upon a sea of exquisite sensation.

  “Saber.” She moaned his name over and over again. And the pleasure seemed never to end. Saber’s hand seemed never to stop moving.

  “Goldie,” he answered, and knew she’d found the bliss he’d promised her. She pulsed around his fingers, her ecstasy filling him with such wild desire, he could barely subdue it.

  But suppress it he did. Tonight was not his. It belonged only to her. He wanted this night to remain branded in her memory until the next night came. The night they would share.

  “Goldie, you’re beautiful. So delightful to me. Your stories, your smile, your giggle...you’ve no idea what they do to me. Your simplicity touches something inside me that I’d forgotten I had. Everything, Goldie. Everything about you...there is no part of you that doesn’t charm me. Enchant me.”

  His words and the feelings he’d given her brought tears to her eyes. She looked up at him, seeing his concern. “I’m not cryin’ because I’m sad. I’m cryin’ because I’m happy. You’ve made me happier than I’ve ever been. You’ve told me things I didn’t think I’d ever hear. Dreams...you’ve made dreams come true for me tonight, Saber. And no matter what happens, no matter where we go or how far apart we might be one day, I’ll never forget this night.”