Her answer came instantly. “Because it’s the color of wet seaweed. Just like your eyes.”
The love he felt for her threatened to consume him. “Goldie—”
“London’s real fuliginous!” she blurted, desperate to change the subject before she began begging him to come in and do improper things to her.
He shuddered with a great sigh and gathered patience. “Yes, I agree. London is fuliginous.”
She felt relieved over her success at changing the course of the conversation, and was determined not to let him switch it back again. Worked up as he was tonight, she knew he’d try. “What do you do in your spare time, Saber? Sit down and memorize the dictionary?”
He chuckled at that.
“I’m gonna test you. Tell me what fuliginous means.”
“Sooty.”
“Pudibund.”
“To be ashamed.”
“Monodist.”
“One who sings or composes monodies, which are odes sung by one voice.”
She smiled.
He thought her grin quite mischievous.
“Thipstrit.”
Saber frowned. “Thipstrit?”
She nodded. “What’s it mean? You are Mr. Saber I-Know-Every-Word-Invented West, aren’t you?”
He shuffled his feet on the floor. “Give me a minute to think, and I’ll remember the definition.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I will.”
“Uh huh.”
“Goldie, if you’ll only hush, I’ll remember what thipstrit means. I know I’ve heard the word before. Somewhere. I’m sure of it. Just give me a second.” Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and concentrated.
Goldie gave him a second. And another. She gave him almost a full minute of seconds. “Give up?”
His shoulders slumped. “Yes, I give up. What does thipstrit mean?”
She tossed her hair out of her eyes. “I’m not gonna tell you.”
He felt a mixture of amusement and irritation at once. “Tell me.”
“Nope.”
“Then you’re mean. I’ll bet you pulled more wings off butterflies than old Raleigh Purvis.”
She watched him for a long moment. “I love it when you tease me. Saber.”
“Indeed. And what else do you love for me to do?” He took a tentative step into her room.
She tried in vain to swallow again. “Your aunts—They’re going to bring Margaret and see you in here.”
“Ah, but I’m too big for them to turn over their knees anymore.” He took another step toward her.
“They’ll—They can still get mad at you, though.”
“Perhaps I should close the door?”
“Well!” Lucille huffed from the doorway, Margaret in her arms, Itchie Bon at her heels. “What is the meaning of this?”
Saber saw the look of pure horror and dread on Goldie’s face, then turned to face his aunt. “Aunt Lucy, I am testing Goldie’s etiquette. As you can plainly see, I am in her bedroom. I took two steps in here and waited for her to dismiss me, as a proper lady should.”
Lucille took Margaret into the room. “And did she dismiss you?”
“She did at that.”
Lucille smiled at Goldie. “Good for you, my dear.” Pushing her spectacles up, she glanced at Saber again. “Well? You were dismissed, were you not?”
Saber gritted his teeth. Spinning on his heel, he turned toward the door and stalked out.
Goldie understood his frustration, for she felt it too. And by the way Lucille was staring at her, she suspected the feelings Saber’s presence had engendered were fairly pouring out of her eyes. “Well, I reckon I’ll go to bed now, Miss Lucy!” she announced a bit too loudly.
“Goldie, my dear, why are your cheeks so red? Are you not feeling well?”
Her hands flew to her hot cheeks. “I’m—I’m really tired. I’ll swannee, I’m so tired that I just know I’ll be asleep even before my head gets anywhere near the pillow.” With shaking hands, she picked up a pillow. “I never had such soft pillows to sleep on,” she rambled, her emotions becoming more frenzied by the moment. “In fact, I never had any pillow at all! Made my own. Just folded up some clothes. That worked just fine, but one time I slept on a button. When I woke up I had circle on my forehead. I guess I slept flat on my face that night. It’s a wonder I didn’t smother, huh?”
Lucille’s brow furrowed. “You are talking too quickly, Goldie, and you look feverish to me. Perhaps I should send for a doctor.”
“No! A doctor—I’m afraid of doctors. I get faint even thinkin’ about ’em. Feel faint right now.” In a dramatic gesture, she laid the back of her hand on her forehead for a moment. “My face gets all red like this when—When I’m tired.”
“Indeed. Most people become pale when tired. And when they are embarrassed and flustered, they become red.”
Goldie felt the beginning of panic. “Yeah? Um... Well, I get red when I’m tired and white when I’m embarrassed. I’m yellow when I’m sick, and blue when I’m scared. I get green when I’m too warm, and orangeish when I’m cold. I—I’m a very colorful person. Well, I reckon I’ll go to bed now, Miss Lucy!”
Lucille stared at her for a while longer. “So you are sure you’re all right?”
“Oh, surely I’m sure. I’m so sure that I just couldn’t be any more sure.”
“Good night then, my dear. Clara and I are retiring also, but if you should need anything, do not hesitate to make us aware of it.”
Goldie stood there smiling a fake smile until Miss Lucy left. “Damn you, Saber West. You’ve worked me into a tizzy, and neither one of us can do a thing about it!”
Desire still stabbing through her, she removed her gown and underthings. The sight of her own bare body deepened her need. “Sleep,” she muttered to Margaret and Itchie Bon. “I’ve gotta go to sleep. Unconsciousness is the only way to get over this.”
She chose a silky nightgown from her dresser, and lifted it over her head. It fell sensuously over her body, caressing her. She trembled, remembering the way Saber’s hands felt when he touched her all over. Tearing the thought from her mind, she marched to her bed and climbed into it.
Being very still, she closed her eyes and willed sleep to come. It wouldn’t. She hummed a dozen lullabies to herself. Thought of exceedingly boring things. Counted two hundred and twenty-seven sheep. And remained wide awake.
Her body, mind, and her heart...every part of her longed for Saber.
Her eyes popped open. For a long while, she stared at the canopy, Saber claiming her every thought. She became so warm, she kicked off her covers. “Well, there’s only one thing to do,” she told the dogs. “I might get caught doin’ it, but great day Miss Agnes, if I don’t try, I’ll melt, and come mornin’ I won’t be anything but a puddle layin’ here in this bed.”
She gave a sheepish look at the two dogs staring at her from the floor. “Saber and I have to talk, y’see. About the problem of goin’ to Hallensham and what to do with Uncle Asa. There’s nothin’ wrong with talkin’, y’all, so quit lookin’ at me like that.”
Rising, she placed two pillows beneath the covers, giving them pats here and there. “What do y’all think?” she asked as she stepped back to examine her work. “Think it’ll fool Miss Clara and Miss Lucy if they decide to look in on me?”
Itchie Bon scratched his ear, then leapt onto the bed, lying down beside the hump that was supposed to be Goldie. Margaret trotted to the bedside throw rug, settling herself comfortably.
Goldie blew kisses to them both and tiptoed to the door. Opening it slowly, she peered out, relieved when she saw no signs of either of the aunties. She stepped out into the hall, shut her bedroom door, and skipped down the long hallway as if dancing on a path of fairy dust. By the time she reached Saber’s room, she put her hands on her chest to catch her heart in case it beat itself out of her body.
As she stared at the closed door, she thought of all the things that would soon happen behind it
. The talking long into the early hours of the morning. The lovemaking...
Her hand trembling, she reached for the knob.
Chapter Nineteen
The doorknob squeaked as she turned it. Her every nerve came together to create a spasm of fear she’d be caught. She cursed silently, and turned the knob more firmly. Ever so slightly, she pushed the door open, gratified when she saw the room was softly illuminated. Saber was still awake. That or he was afraid of the dark and slept with a lighted lamp. She smiled at that thought, opened the door further, and saw his bed.
He wasn’t in it.
“Dammit, Saber!” she whispered vehemently. “I’m bein’ an improper lady for you, and you don’t even have the decency to be in bed waitin’ on me!” With an angry sigh, she stepped into his room and closed the door behind her. She walked to his bed, running her hand down the midnight blue velvet that flowed from the canopy.
“Well, now what the hell am I supposed to do?” she asked the mound of pillows.
No sooner had the question left her lips than the room went completely dark. A scream rose in her throat, but before she could release it, strong hands caught her shoulders. Arms pulled her against a torso that was both hard and soft at once.
Warm lips met hers in a kiss that demanded everything she had to give. Searching fingers fumbled with the ribbons at the neck of her night rail, and a satisfied groan hit her ears when the filmy gown skimmed down her body, pooling at her feet.
“Tell me something, my improper lady,” Saber murmured, his lips nuzzling the sweet hollow of her throat. “Do you want me to be an improper gentleman? Shall we cast aside all the rules and make this night highly improper? Shall I do improper things to you, Goldie? And should I do them, may I expect you to do improper things to me in return?”
“Yes.” She pulled at the sash of his robe, quivering when the garment fell to join her nightgown on the floor. She leaned into him, feeling unsteady on her feet when his need for her pressed hotly against her belly. “Yes, yes,” she said. “But whoever you are, don’t tell Saber West. If he catches me doin’ this with you, he’ll—”
Saber laughed very quietly and swept her into his arms. “Minx.” He bent his head, savoring the softness of her breasts upon his face. He carried her to the window, and, holding her in one arm, he used his other arm to yank the draperies open. “I love the way silver moonlight looks on your gold hair,” he told her as he took her to his bed and laid her down there. He joined her, pulling her to him, his hands traveling over the entire length of her body.
“You smell different than you usually do,” Goldie commented, her face in his hair. “You smell like—Like...roses.”
He tensed, realizing that Jillian’s’ cloying rose perfume still clung to him. Panicked, he tried to think of what to tell Goldie. “I—It must be those overripe roses in the foyer,” he blurted, profoundly thankful that he’d recalled the flowers. “I brushed past them earlier. The things smell sickeningly sweet.”
Goldie smiled. “Rosie brought ’em. But the way you smell, Saber—It’s different than the roses she—”
“Forget the roses, poppet. I’d rather think of dandelions.” He parted her thighs. She moaned when his fingers slipped intimately into her. “Saber, wait. I need to talk to you first. I’ve got somethin’ important to tell—”
“Later,” he told her, his breath coming in ragged heaves. “We talk later.”
“But—”
“Goldie, I—I can’t wait. It’s been so long, love.”
The urgency in his voice set her afire. He was right, she realized. Talking could wait. Later, she’d tell him every sweet thing that dwelled in her heart. “Yes,” she whispered to him. “It’s been so long.” She welcomed his weight and gasped when he pushed into her. He filled her leisurely, completely, then began to move, slowly, so slowly, increasing his rhythm and depth with each stroke. Her ecstasy began instantly, and intensified when she realized Saber’s bliss had come just as quickly. He pulsed within her, his body hardened and straining over hers.
“I’m sorry,” he told her. “Goldie, I just couldn’t—”
“Me either,” she admitted. “But Saber, let’s do it again.”
Her suggestion gave him pause. “I—Can you give me a few minutes?”
“For what?”
“To—I—You see—I’m not ready yet. I have to—”
“I’ll ready you. I know how to do it, Saber. Remember the night when you readied me? I’ll do that to you, then you’ll be ready.”
“You’ll do that to me?” He slid from atop her, sat, and stared down at her moonlit features. “Really?”
She felt suddenly embarrassed. “Is there something wrong with that?” she asked in a very small voice.
“Well, no, but I—It’s just that I never thought you’d want to—I haven’t ever asked you to. Never showed you.”
“So I’ll learn while I’m doin’ it. There’s nothin’ like firsthand experience. Ole Ozzie Worm back in Tater Hole, Tennessee? Well, he told me that. ‘Course, he wasn’t talkin’ about what I’m fixin’ to do to you right now, but it’s the same principle, don’t you think?”
Saber’s mind whirled. “Ozzie Worm?”
“Ole Ozzie went to Judge Mudd to get his last name changed, but Judge Mudd wouldn’t do it. Judge Mudd said that Worm was a fine name and that he saw no reason for Ozzie to change it. If you ask me, Judge Mudd should’ve changed his own name right along with Ozzie’s. Mudd’s just as bad as Worm. Anyway, Ozzie said firsthand experience is always the best kind. Don’t you think so too, Saber?”
Her proposal made him begin to feel ready for her. He didn’t, however, inform her of this. “Yes. I do indeed agree with Mr. Worm.”
“So is it all right with you if I get some firsthand experience on you?” Without waiting for his answer, she sat up, pushing him back to the mattress. “All right, Saber, you just lay there and concentrate on gettin’ readied.”
She turned, looking at that which she was supposed to ready and feeling puzzled over the sight. “It already looks ready to me.”
He wasn’t about to let her miss her opportunity for some firsthand experience. “It only looks that way. It’s not really.”
“But this is the way it always looks when it’s—”
“Look, Goldie, it’s my body we’re talking about. I should know if it’s ready or not.”
“Well, you don’t have to turn into an ill-box over it, do you?”
“I’m not an ill-box. I’m just ready to get readied.”
She took him in her hand. “Well, I don’t care what you say, it looks ready to me. Feels ready too. Are you sure—”
“I’m sure!”
She smiled at the dusky anticipation his eyes and knew then that he was as ready as he’d ever be. But she decided to go along with him and ready him to his heart’s content.
She bent and kissed the tip of him, wondering what it was she was actually supposed to do. Unsure, she moved her lips down his hard length, smoothing whisper-soft kisses to him as she journeyed. “Saber, what do I do now?”
“It’s your firsthand experience, not mine.”
“But—”
“Try a little of everything and see what works best.”
His suggestion sounded good to her. She began darting her tongue across him. Up, down. All around. When he groaned at her actions, she became bolder.
Saber shook violently when he felt her take him into her mouth. She went slowly with him at first, then increased her pace, taking more and more of him. “Gold-Goldie,” he stammered, trying his best to stem the pleasure. “I’m ready.”
She straightened, struggling with the urge to laugh. “Well now, Saber, I don’t know about that. You probably need more readyin’” She leaned down again.
He caught her shoulders, lifting her into his lap and arranging her legs so that they were wrapped around his waist. Taking her face between his hands, he kissed her long, gently, and with all the adoration the universe ha
d ever held. He explored each warm valley of her mouth, savoring the silken feel of her, relishing the sweet taste of her.
And then, abruptly, he stopped. He sat her on the bed, and moved away. “I refuse to do one more improper thing to you until you tell me what thipstrit means.”
She smiled. “All right. Don’t do anything to me then. I’ll do everything to you. “
When she began squirming closer to him, he moved over again. “I’ll have the meaning of thipstrit first, if you don’t mind.”
“But I do mind.” Quickly, she pushed him back to the bed. Before he could respond, she pulled her entire body onto him. Feeling rather daring, she opened her legs, waiting expectantly for him to take advantage of her sensuous invitation.
Saber didn’t move a muscle. “Sorry to deny you what you are so desperate to have, my improper Miss Mae, but I really must insist on the definition of—”
“Deny me? Just because you don’t offer it doesn’t mean I won’t get it.”
“Oh, really? And how do you propose to have it if I don’t give it to you?”
She smiled, and inched her body downward, her eyes closing at the pleasure she felt when she met his manhood. With one smooth motion, she slid him into her.
Saber’s moans joined hers when she began to circle her hips. His hands pushed at her bottom, urging her onward. He felt her body tense, and knew her pleasure was building. At that exact moment he seized the chance to roll to his side, taking him with her. “Not yet, poppet.”
“Saber—”
“What does thipstrit mean?” His hand cupped her femininity, his fingers delved within it. “Tell me.”
She couldn’t. Her rising bliss defied her will to speak.
Saber stilled his hand. “Goldie...”
“Dammit, that’s twice you messed it up!”
He understood exactly what it was he’d messed up, and showed her one of his lopsided grins. “But think of how much better it will be when it finally happens. Imagine that, Goldie love. Want it. Yearn for it...wait for it.”
Though her unappeased desire nearly tore her asunder, she couldn’t help smiling at the rogue who tortured her so sensuously. “You are so mean.”
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