Again the Magic (21 page)

At the conclusion of the song, Aline curtsied deeply in acknowledgment. She gave the lead fiddle player her hand, and after bending to kiss it, he pretended to fall backward in a swoon, eliciting a round of applause and friendly laughter from the gathering.

Returning to McKenna, Aline regarded him with a mock glare. “You’re going to pay for this,” she warned.

He grinned. “You wanted a serenade.”

Laughter rustled up from her chest. “From
you,”
she exclaimed, taking his arm once again. “Not from the entire population of Stony Cross!”

“Trust me — that was far better than hearing me sing alone.”

“As I recall, you had a very nice voice.”

“I’m out of practice.”

They stared at each other, smiling, while delight hummed through Aline’s veins. “I also asked for a poem,” she said.

The flirtatious sparkle of her eyes seemed to affect McKenna, causing his voice to deepen as he replied. “And I told you I needed more inspiration.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more precise. What kind of inspiration are you referring to?”

His wide mouth curled up at the corners. “Use your imagination.”

Aline was struck by the words. Unknowingly, McKenna had used the same phrase that Adam had once spoken, when they had discussed the scars on her legs.

The feeling of impatience returned, and she could hardly draw breath around the billowing excitement and confusion in her chest. If she was clever, if she was bold, she might be able to have what she wanted most in the world. One night with McKenna… no, just a few minutes stolen from the grasp of an uncharitable Fate… Dear God, was that too much to ask for?

No.

No matter what it cost her, she would have a few precious moments of intimacy with the man she had never stopped loving. And she would find a way to do it without letting him know her secrets.
Tonight,
she thought in passionate rebellion, and damn anyone or anything that tried to stop her. Damn Fate itself… she and McKenna were finally going to have their reckoning.

I
t was long past midnight, and the torches were burning down. Villagers and visitors swarmed through the darkened streets, many of them intoxicated. Some sang, some scuffled and disputed, while others took advantage of the shadows to indulge in brazen kisses. Those of more genteel sensibilities had prudently left for home, while those who remained could not help but be aware that the crowd’s inhibitions were fading as fast as the torchlight. Musicians played near the bonfire, while dancers perspired freely as they moved in and out of the pool of flickering light.

Staring into the glow of the bonfire, Aline leaned back against McKenna. He supported her automatically, one hand settling at the nipped-in curve of her waist, the other cupping gently around her elbow. On any other night, in any other circumstances, the way they stood would have caused a scandal. However, the usual standards of propriety were relaxed, if not outright ignored, at fair time. And in the milling crowd, no one seemed to notice or care that Aline and McKenna had materialized like a pair of shades from a time long past.

Aline’s eyes half closed as the heat of the firelight limned her face. “You’re taller,” she murmured absently, thinking of how he used to stand with his chin resting on the top of her head. Now he couldn’t do the same without hunching over.

He bent his head, his voice warm and soft in her ear. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” Wine had loosened her tongue. “We don’t fit the way we used to.”

His chest, so solid behind her, moved in a huff of amusement. “The fit may be better than before. Let’s try it, and see.”

Aline smiled and almost let herself melt back against him… oh, how she wanted, needed, to lean her head on his shoulder and feel his mouth brush over the fragile arch of her neck. Instead she stood in absolute stillness, staring blindly at the bonfire. McKenna’s skin and clothes carried the scents of midnight air and summer meadows and smoke… and the far subtler aura of a healthy, aroused male. Desire was thick between them, intoxicating them, blurring the edges of reality. The sounds of the bonfire, the crackling and smoldering and breaking wood, seemed a perfect expression of her own inner dismantling. She was not the heedless girl of the past, nor was she the resigned Aline with so many empty places inside, but some other, temporary self… an eager insurgent, rebellious with love.

“Not at the house,” she heard herself whisper.

McKenna did not move, but she sensed the shock of response that went through him. A full minute passed before he murmured, “Where, then?”

“Let’s walk through the woods,” she said recklessly, “along the path that goes by the wishing well.”

McKenna knew the path she referred to — a dark and unfrequented route that they had traversed a thousand times in their youth. There could be no doubt in his mind as to why she suggested it.

A rueful little smile rose to Aline’s lips as she reflected that coupling in the forest was hardly the stuff of great romance. Furtive, inelegant, hasty, and almost certainly uncomfortable. But she would never have the luxury of candlelight and white linen and leisurely lovemaking. If she were to keep McKenna from seeing her scars, she needed darkness and expedience, so that he wouldn’t have the opportunity to notice her legs. The fact that she was actually contemplating such a thing — an act so utterly devoid of grace and tenderness — was astonishing. But this was all she could have of McKenna. And whom would it hurt? Clearly McKenna wanted the opportunity to take what he’d been denied in the past. For her part, she wanted something to remember, for all the long years she had yet to live without him. They desired each other for what were probably selfish reasons — and in Aline’s current mood, that was just fine.

“The wishing well…” McKenna murmured. “Do you still visit it?”

She remembered how, as a girl, she had often gone to cast a pin into the well and wish for the one thing she couldn’t have. “No,” she said, and turned to face him with a faint smile. “That well ran out of magic a long time ago. It never made any of my wishes come true.”

His face was shadowed as he stood with his back to the firelight. “Maybe you wished for the wrong things.”

“Always,” she admitted, her smile holding a bittersweet curve.

McKenna stared at her intently, then led her away from the bonfire, toward the forest that surrounded Stony Cross Park. They were soon swallowed in the night, their way illuminated by the cloud-crossed moon. After a while Aline’s eyes adjusted to the thickening darkness, but she was less surefooted than McKenna as they walked through the coppices of hazel and elm. He caught her hand in his. Remembering how he had once caressed her, the tender places those fingers had ventured so long ago, Aline felt her breathing turn choppy. She tugged free of him with a low, nervous laugh.

“Am I walking too fast for you?” McKenna asked.

“Just a bit.” She had walked too much that evening — her right knee was threatening to stiffen beneath the tightening scar tissue.

“Then we’ll stop for a moment.” He drew her to the side of the path, where a massive oak tree spread, and they stood in a cleft of its roots. The forest seemed to sigh as it enfolded them in rustling, mossy dampness. As Aline leaned back against the tree trunk, McKenna loomed over her, his breath stirring the wisps of hair that fell on her forehead.

“McKenna…” she said, trying to sound casual, “I want to ask you something…”

His fingertips touched the side of her neck, brushing against the sensitive nerves. “Yes?”

“Tell me about the women you’ve known. The ones you…” Aline paused as she considered the appropriate word.

McKenna drew back a few inches. “What do you want to know?”

“If you loved any of them.”

At McKenna’s silence, Aline looked up to find him staring at her with an intensity that sent hot and cold chills through her body.

“I don’t believe in love,” he said. “It’s a sugar-coated pill — the first taste is tolerable enough, but you quickly reach the bitter layers beneath.”

She had been the only one, then. Aline knew that she should regret the fact that after her, his interactions with women had been purely physical. But as always, she was selfish where McKenna was concerned. She couldn’t help but be glad that his words of long-ago had proven true…
“You’ll have my heart always… you’ve ruined me for life…”

“What about Sandridge?” McKenna asked. “Do you love him?”

“Yes,” Aline whispered. She loved Adam dearly — just not in the way he meant.

“And yet you’re here with me,” he murmured.

“Adam—” She stopped and cleared her throat. “Whatever I choose to do… he doesn’t mind. This has nothing to do with him… you and I…”

“No, it doesn’t,” he said with sudden anger. “My God, he should be trying to tear my throat out, instead of letting you go somewhere alone with me. He should be willing to do anything short of murder — hell, I wouldn’t even stop at that — to keep other men away from you.” Disgust thickened his voice. “You’re lying to yourself, if you think that you’ll ever be satisfied with the kind of bloodless arrangement your parents had. You need a man who will match your will, own you, occupy every part of your body and every corner of your soul. In the eyes of the world, Sandridge is your equal — but you and I know better. He’s as different from you as ice from fire.” He leaned over her, his body forming a hard, living cage around her. “
I’m
your equal,” he said harshly, “though my blood is red instead of blue, though I was condemned by my very birth never to have you… inside, we’re the same. And I would break every law of God and man if—”

McKenna stopped suddenly, biting back the words as he realized that he was revealing too much, allowing his rampaging emotions to get the better of him.

Aline longed to tell him that she had never thought of him as anything but an equal. Instead she reached for the buttons of his waistcoat and began to unfasten them. “Let me,” she whispered. Even through the layers of fabric, she could feel the hardness of his stomach, the rigid layers of muscle.

McKenna was unmoving, the knuckles of his clenched fists digging into the oak bark. She worked carefully at the row of buttons, then began on his shirt. He did not try to help her, only stood still beneath her ministrations. Trembling with excitement, she finally unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it free of his trousers. The garment was crumpled and hot where it had been tucked in at his waist. Slipping her hands inside McKenna’s open clothes, Aline inhaled swiftly. His skin was fever-hot, salt-scented, tantalizing. Her palms traveled slowly across his hair-covered chest. She was fascinated by the textures of his body, so much more varied than her own. Determined and ardent, Aline found his nipple with her fingertip. She leaned forward to touch the satiny circle with her tongue, while the crisp curls of his chest brushed against her cheek.

McKenna drew in a quick breath and shoved his hands behind her, tugging at the fastenings behind her gown. His mouth came to her throat, nuzzling and kissing, while he pulled hard at the back of her bodice. Her dress fell around her waist, revealing a corset that pushed her breasts high beneath a thin cotton chemise. Suddenly a sense of unreality made Aline fearless. Sliding the straps of her chemise down her shoulders, she pulled her arms free and peeled the garment down over the top of her corset. Her breasts spilled out, the shadowy tips contracting in the open air.

McKenna’s fingers slid beneath the pale curve of one breast, and his head bent over her chest. She jumped a little as the wet warmth of his mouth closed over her. His tongue traced the edge of the taut aureole, then stroked over the tip, tickling the sensitive flesh. She squirmed and gasped, while desire thumped through every part of her body. Releasing the nipple, McKenna drew back to caress her aching flesh with the humid waft of his breath. His tongue flicked her, the feathery laps causing her to twist and moan.

He took the throbbing peak between his teeth, nibbling with a delicate pressure that caused darts of sensation all the way down to her toes. Aline was so mesmerized by the pleasure of his mouth that she didn’t notice him pulling her dress down until it fell to the ground in a heap, leaving her in her underclothes. Dismayed, she bent automatically to retrieve her gown, but McKenna pushed her back against the tree and seized her mouth in a pillaging kiss. His fingers went to the tapes of her drawers, loosening them until they dropped to her knees.

Awkwardly she reached for the tops of her stockings, checking to make certain that her garters hadn’t slipped. Her heart gave a sickening jerk as she felt one of his hands cover hers.

“I’ll do it,” McKenna muttered, evidently thinking that she wanted to untie the garter.

“No.” Hastily she seized his hand and tugged it to her breast.

To her relief, McKenna was instantly distracted by the maneuver, his thumb brushing over the bud of her nipple. Aline lifted her face for his kiss, her lips parting eagerly beneath his. She felt the shape of arousal against her thigh, the hardness straining behind a row of trouser buttons. Hungrily Aline reached for him, working at the buttons, the backs of her knuckles dipping behind the skin-warmed fabric. They both gasped as she finally freed him, his stiff flesh springing from the confines of thick broadcloth. Shivering in anticipation, Aline curved her fingers around him in a delicate, hot grip.

Growling quietly, McKenna pulled her wrists up over her head and anchored them to the tree. He kissed her mouth, his tongue searching her while his free hand drifted over her stomach. He sifted through the dark curls between her thighs, while one of his feet pushed at her instep, forcing her stance to widen. Aline experienced a thrill of primal pleasure at being so utterly mastered. Having unleashed McKenna’s passion, she now had to accept the consequences… and she was more than ready to give him what they had both wanted for so long.

His fingers traced the swollen folds of her cleft, then parted her with utter gentleness. Pulling helplessly at her imprisoned wrists, Aline stiffened at the feel of his fingertip sliding against the opening of her body. McKenna’s fingertip played in the moisture, skimming over the tender threshold of her sex until beseeching hums rose in her throat. Releasing her hands, McKenna slid a supportive arm around her corseted back. His mouth fed on hers, while he found the aroused peak hidden beneath the soft hood of her sex. The kiss was barbaric, wet, violent, contrasting sharply with the skillful delicacy of his fingers. He tormented the little peak with soft, slippery nudges, tickling and prodding until she canted her hips tightly. Closer… closer… her flesh throbbing, sizzling with sensation. She writhed on his fingers, hovering at the precipice of a release so acute that she couldn’t think or breathe. Then he brought her over the edge, and she was suspended in wrenching pleasure, her body spasming, her throat dilating with a deep gasp of air. After what seemed an eternity, the pleasure eased into exquisite ripples, and she whimpered against his lips.