With that, Reed turned her in his arms and lifted her hair over her shoulder. Having free access to her gown, he swiftly unhooked the fasteners and she was soon standing in her petticoats, corset, and stockings. Another moment and her petticoats were also at her feet.
She stepped out of the green pool and turned slowly. Reed Malloy looked to be a man momentarily astounded, and Charlotte felt thrilled that she had inspired that look. His eyes lingered on the swell of her firm, full breasts that were pushed up halfway above the trim white corset and the sleeveless chemise underneath.
"Lily picked out my stockings," she whispered, feeling instantly foolish. But then his gaze dropped to her white lace drawers and the sheerest white gossamer stockings.
"She has impeccable taste." His voice sounded thick with desire, as his intense gaze raised up to meet her own. "But then, I think you'd look lovely wearing nothing at all."
Slowly, as he spoke, he slipped the suspenders over his broad shoulders, and then took off his collar and his white shirt. Both landed on the floor. She had time as she had not had two days before to notice the muscles that moved across his chest and that sculpted his upper arms. Then her eyes dropped to the trim line of his waist and below.
She swallowed, bringing her eyes back from that path to his face. He didn't smile, kicking his shoes off toward the closed door. Only his trousers remained.
Charlotte held her breath. There was delicious terror and there was desperate anticipation warring within her. She was glad she had waited and not taken the tumble offered her by a neighboring boy when she was seventeen. But, by God, there had been a lot of years in between then and now when she had wished for a man to touch her.
She took a step forward, and he pulled her to him, sweeping her up against his body and letting her feel the hot hardness of his desire, before he lowered her gently to the bed.
The most handsome man I have ever seen evidently wants me the way I want him.
As he removed his black trousers and drawers, Charlotte shamelessly watched him. She'd had no idea!
"Man alive," she murmured at the sight of his manhood, proudly erect, and of Reed himself, unembarrassed by her frank stares. He joined her on the bed.
She tore her gaze from the mystery that she longed to fully understand and looked him in the eye.
"I'm a little frightened, Reed."
He shook his dark head. "Just let me adore you."
She nodded, and he began to untie the ribbons that held up her stockings. He pushed the sheer fabric down her long, slim legs with a sensual ease, one at a time.
For a moment, she had goose bumps from ankle to shoulder. Then he let his hands slide up her legs, pausing at the lace-trimmed drawers.
"Your corset," he said with grim determination and an audible sigh. His skilled hands loosened the laces and unfastened the hooks, before tossing the garment aside, and finally her breasts were loose against her hip-length cotton chemise. He drew it up above her navel.
Charlotte gasped as he bent his head to kiss her smooth stomach, just above her lacey drawers.
"These have to go," he said. Untying the drawstring, he pushed them down over her slim hips.
"Reed," she exclaimed, feeling her face hot with embarrassment and excitement.
She heard his throaty laugh, just as he whisked away her chemise, baring her body to his gaze and his touch. She sighed as his hands closed over her breasts, relieving somewhat the building tension in her body. His mouth plucked tenderly at one nipple.
This must be what heaven feels like, Charlotte thought. But the throbbing between her legs and the trembling in the pit of her stomach told her there was something more she needed.
Reed already seemed to know that, as without warning and with his mouth still teasing one breast, his hand slipped downward over her stomach and lower. When the warm palm of his hand closed over her woman's mound, her eyes flew open and her body arched against him of its own volition.
Reed lifted his head to kiss her lips and while he touched the tip of her tongue with his own, he slipped his finger between the moist, hot petals at her core and touched the small bud that throbbed there.
She whimpered against his lips. The feel of his fingers and smell of his warm skin overwhelmed all her senses. She felt herself drugged by the heady sensations, unable to move even if she'd wanted to.
Not lifting his mouth from hers, Reed murmured, "You're exquisite, Charlotte Sanborn, and tonight, you're going to be mine." He kissed the edge of her lips and along her jaw, then moved to nibble on her earlobe. "All mine," she heard him add, his voice gone husky with, she assumed, the same desire that kept her helpless under his touch.
Soon, she could think no more as the practiced rhythm of Reeds finger and the scorching of his mouth on her skin drove all coherent thought out of her brain. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed and clenched his shoulders with her hands as he drove her wild.
Charlotte felt as if she were flying higher and higher and if he stopped the steady movement that echoed the imaginary beating of her spirit's wings, then she would collapse in agony.
He didn't stop, and there was a moment of fright as she thought she might disintegrate with the powerful shudders that wracked her. When it was over, she felt diffused with warmth that washed over her limbs, which had gone liquid with the exertion of her own clenching muscles.
Charlotte lifted her lids to find Reed looking at her with eyes that blazed fire. She reached for him, both arms around his neck, and pulled him down. She kissed him gratefully, thoroughly.
He groaned against her lips, then was silent.
"Reed?" she queried, but she already had an inkling of what was causing him discomfort, for there had been moments in the last few minutes when the pleasure was something very close to pain, and if he had stopped...
She looked at him steadily before grasping hold of the firm protrusion—like flint encased in velvet—that pressed against her body. He shuddered and leaned down to kiss the damp tendril at her temple. She held onto his throbbing shaft even tighter, then cautiously, she stroked it—once up, once down.
He actually growled. Raising himself up on his hands, one muscled arm on either side of her, Reed opened her thighs with his knee and settled himself there.
Resting on his forearms, his face just inches above hers, his eyes held captive her own green gaze. Charlotte saw the query in his eyes and smiled slightly. With that response, she felt Reed press against her warm cleft, where she was damply swollen. Amazingly, though she'd thought herself satisfied only moments before, she felt the wanting stir again.
"You've been there alone, Charlotte," he said softly, and she felt the tip of him enter her. "Now let's go there together."
She could only bite back her apprehensiveness as his shaft slid in a little farther. It was thrilling and fearsome at the same time. She felt a mild discomfort as he continued to press into her, and when a flash of pain sent dazzling colors swirling before her eyes, she started to squirm.
"Christ," he exclaimed, looking to Charlotte like a man restraining himself with great difficulty. "Don't move, woman, or I'll—" But she continued to writhe involuntarily away from the burning discomfort.
He broke off his words, looked her straight in the eye, and embedded his shaft into her as a sword in its sheath, right up to the hilt. She cried out, unable to help herself, and he froze, the sweat now breaking out on his forehead.
"Are you all right?"
"I think so," she told him, the stinging feeling already dissipating as her body adjusted and closed in around his erection. "Will it hurt anymore?" she asked, feeling a little less enthusiastic.
"No," he fairly croaked, "I don't believe so." He rocked his hips, then stopped.
"All right?"
"All right," she answered, awed by the new sensation of being intimately joined to Reed. It was incredibly sensual, this hot fullness, this feeling of being stretched to the limit by his potent manhood. "More than all right," she whispered.
With that, he gave in to the passion between them, stroking slowly at first until she held on to his shoulders, urging him, demanding more. He increased the intensity, quickening his motions as the tension built for both of them.
Her body understood the ancient ritual better than her mind, for she was moving also, matching his rhythm with an easy lifting of her hips. Her hands roamed over his broad back, and she could feel the sheen of dampness on his skin.
His hands were alternately in her hair, on her breasts, or wickedly, under her buttocks, squeezing and separating them as he rocked in and out. And then again, she started to soar, climbing higher, higher, with each long stroke of him, deep insider her. Only this time, Reed was sharing the pleasure with her, locked together, as one.
And when her quivering release came, it was answered by the shuddering of his own muscled frame, as he pressed into her again and again, filling her up with liquid heat. His mouth was against the damp skin of her neck, murmuring primitive words of passion.
Finally, he collapsed on top of her, spent and seemingly exhausted.
When she returned to earth, her body calming for the second time, he was holding her in his strong arms, her head pillowed on his expansive chest. She felt him kiss the top of her head gently as she drifted in to blackness.
Chapter 13
Her eyes still closed, Charlotte stretched her hand out to touch Reed as she had done more than once in the night. He was gone. Hearing the children outside, playing in the yard, she stretched and smiled and felt tender all over. Except her toes. She wiggled them. Nope, not sore. She listened for Reed's voice.
Creeping downstairs, feeling a little embarrassed, a little awkward, especially when she saw her green satin shoes lined up neatly in the front hall, she started to heat water for a bath. Still no Reed. Ten minutes later, she sank into a hot bath with relief. But Charlotte didn't linger too long.
Washing away the traces of their night diminished none of the memory that was burned into her brain. It had been a wonderful night. She looked at her naked reflection in her grandmother's mirror. And I don't regret it for a moment. I am an unrepentant sinner.
Her body looked different to her this morning as she considered it through Reed's eyes—a thing of beauty and pleasure.
"Perhaps he doesn't find Mrs. Belgrave so," she told her reflection.
She dressed with care in her best day frock and made her way down the stairs once again. Her office, empty. Parlor, empty. She proceeded to the dining room and the kitchen in turn, both empty. Then she went outside, only to learn from Lily that Reed had come downstairs full chisel and pulled foot for the stables. That was nearly an hour earlier.
He'd gone straight to town. To Helen Belgrave, her mind concluded. Charlotte felt a slight sickness in her stomach. He'd gone straight from her bed to his fiancée without even a good-bye. Had he taken his possessions already? She turned hurriedly toward the house.
"Aunt Charlotte," Lily's voice stopped her, "wasn't his friend beautiful?"
She nodded and tried to smile normally. Then Thomas piped up, borrowing Lily's word from the night before, "A pincess."
"That's princess, Thomas, with an 'r.' Have you had your breakfast?" Charlotte asked, wondering if her voice sounded as strained as she felt.
They had, so she was free to run upstairs and check his room. Astoundingly, his belongings were still there. So he was coming back.
She cursed herself for being a silly romantic but couldn't deny she was relieved that he had not just ridden out of her life for good. Though it wouldn't be any less than she deserved if he had. She had behaved outrageously, like an adventuress from one of Denver's infamous brothels.
Charlotte stood a moment at the top of the stairs. What to do? How to pass the time until he returned? While she made tea, she cut a thick slice of bread and buttered it absently.
Let me love you, he'd said. Perhaps he'd meant more than the physical act. Perhaps he hadn't. Reed had wanted her beyond reason, past the ability to stop. He must not feel that way about Helen Belgrave, or he would have spent the night with her.
But it was hard to hold on to that belief as she sat in the dining room listening to the clock ticking, trying to quell the uneasy feelings inside her—the guilt mixed with happiness mixed with wonder mixed with sadness.
So much for no regret, she thought. And then there was the nagging fear that what they'd done would have long-reaching effects; she hadn't even considered contraception, but then, it seemed, neither had he.
And thus she waited, stirring her now cold tea, unable to think about working, unable to stop thinking about their night together. Her ears strained at every noise, waiting to hear the sound of his horse's hooves. And finally, it came.
She heard Reed greet the children, and she got to her feet. She heard him on the back steps and then coming along the passageway, and she sat down again. Then he halted at her study, obviously looking for her, and finally, he appeared at the dining room doorway.
"Hello," he said, sounding normal, yet he stood there hesitantly and said nothing else. For her part, Charlotte found she'd lost her voice at the sight of him.
"May I come in?"
She must have nodded for he came in the room slowly and sat across from her.
"Reed."
"Charlotte."
They both spoke at once. He smiled at her. She blushed at their first prolonged eye contact, and her skin seemed to prickle in every spot that he had touched or kissed. She set down her spoon.
"I know that you have a life far from my homestead," she began slowly, "a life to which you must return. I knew you would, sooner or later. Return to your life, that is." She knew she was beginning to babble and stopped herself, trying hard to focus on the important issue at hand.
She'd reached a decision. She'd had all morning to consider and to reconsider as she'd sat waiting for Reed. Perhaps her choice had been determined by the fear she'd felt at the dance when she thought someone had come by train to take Thomas and Lily away.
Perhaps she'd made her choice even sooner but had been too scared to admit it. In any case, Charlotte knew that, with some alteration to her life, she could become an adequate mother to her cousins.
"I've decided to go whole hog and keep the children. Thomas and Lily may stay with me. Your duty is done as executor of my cousin's will. You can go." It came out all in a rush and sounded imperious even to her own ears, but once said, she took a steadying sip of lukewarm tea.
Reed stared at her. "Do you honestly want the children, or are you just saying that to get rid of me?"
What an odd question, she thought. Why would she want to get rid of him? Then she realized he was smiling. She took a deep breath and relaxed.
"I have come to love my cousin's children, and I will give them a good home." As it turned out, her love had come as easily as breathing—both for Thomas and Lily... and for Reed.
"I'm glad you feel that way."
However, he didn't sound as she'd thought he would. This meant the end of his business here. He could return to Boston, knowing he'd fulfilled his commitment to Ann Connors.
"I believe you and the children are good for each other," he added. "If you raise them to be anything like yourself, then you'll be doing just fine."
She nodded, accepting the compliment and acknowledging that she would enjoy having a purpose to living, other than her writing. But inside, her heart ached a little, knowing nothing would be the same when it was only the three of them. She could live without Reed Malloy—clearly, she would have to. And the sooner she started, the better.
"I went to town this morning. I didn't want to awaken you," Reed continued, his voice lowering.
Even so, she looked nervously over her shoulder, fearing that Lily or Thomas might hear him.
"I went to see John," he paused ever so slightly, "and Mrs. Belgrave."
Charlotte abruptly pushed her chair away from the table, knocking over what was left of her tea as she did. It was all too civilized.
First, discussing the children as if they were livestock instead of people. And now, chatting about his fiancée when he had just deflowered Charlotte and given her the most incredible night of her life. She wasn't worldly by half to handle this.
"I'll get a towel," she pronounced over her shoulder as she dashed out of the room.
"Charlotte," he called out after her, but she was practically running. The tea stain be damned, she thought, and kept on going, down the hall and out the back door. She didn't slow her pace until she was out of the yard and heading across the adjoining field of wildflowers.
It struck her that she'd done exactly what Reed had told her to do—shed her wallflower façade and experience a little more out of life. But at what cost?
She heard him call her name again and knew he was coming after her. She also knew it was useless. She didn't want to face what she had done last night—willingly—and more than once. And she didn't want Reed to tell her whatever he'd discussed with his fiancée that morning.
He was close behind her now, and with the sun on her face and her lungs gasping, she simply stopped and stood completely still except for the rising and falling of her chest.
"Charlotte," he said again. She didn't turn completely, but she could tell he was out of breath, too, by the way he was bent over with his hands on his knees. She wanted to touch him and say, "You're it, Mr. Malloy." But this was no game.
When he reached out to touch her, she let him. But as soon as Reed's fingers closed on her arm, she felt her body react. A simple touch and she wanted to kiss him. She jerked her arm free.
"Do I have to hear about your morning trot into town to be with Helen Belgrave? I hope you took your fiancée to Mrs. Cassidy's. It's the best breakfast in town. And I hope she choked on her eggs."
"She's gone."
"I thought I could handle one night with you, and the good Lord knows what you think of me now! What kind of woman does what I did, knowing there is no future for us? Or maybe that's normal for some women of your acquaintance, and you expected it. But it's not normal for me, and it's certainly not customary for me to meet a man's fiancée and then let him in my bed, but I—"
The Defiant Hearts Series Box Set Page 22