An Unmistakable Rogue (19 page)

Chastity turned to face him with a frown. “How many women have had this effect on you?”

“Aw Sweetheart, no woman’s ever had
quite
this strong an effect on me, and frankly, it scares the hell out of me.”

She should not be so delighted. She turned all the way into his arms and kissed him, not a quick kiss, but a deep, hungry, take-me-to-bed kiss. Funny, how she knew that’s the kind it was. Judging by the way he moved his hands over her, and the way he pulsed against her, she guessed she was getting into the spirit of this seduction business.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he said against her lips. “I want to take my time, so you’ll remember everything.”

Chastity closed her eyes and wondered how many nights of memories there would be. Five, ten. What did it matter? She would take what she could get. She loved him and knew that tender, quiet moments would be as memorable, in years to come, as wild pleasure-filled ones.

They dried each other off, and as he brushed her hair before the fire, Reed explained that what he wanted for them, tonight, held the possibility of getting her with child, though he would take care. But rather than deter her—as he seemed to expect—the thought of having his child, made Chastity want him more. “Nothing you can say will stop me,” she said.

With an oath, he swept her exuberantly into his arms.

He was in trouble, Reed knew, but he could no more stop wanting Chastity than he could stop a runaway stallion. He winced at the analogy as he carried her up the stairs. In his room, he left the fire lit, and fresh bedding turned down. He dipped so she could reach the door-lock. Then she slid down his body, stirring them both the more.

Reed sensed this would be more than physical with her, more like soul mating; his already seemed to be reaching for hers, whether he wanted it to or not.

No matter a lifetime with one fixed goal in mind, he began to have difficulty imagining life without her, and without Matt, Mark, Luke and Bekah. Except that with Chastity, there would always be more, and more, children.

He already lived
that
life; he could not live it again. Besides, he bore no name of his own, he owned no past. Before he could join his life to another’s, he must
be
someone.

He would take her tonight in a way that would be impossible for either to forget. It would be all they could have and must last their whole lives.

Unlike the night before, he removed her nightrail and she stood before him splendidly naked. He admired her every subtle curve, cresting just right here, dipping gently there. “You are exquisite,” he said, a rare gift that he did not deserve, but would humbly accept with gratitude.

“Your turn,” she said. “I want to look my fill, too.”

“I did not doubt it for a moment.”

Chastity remembered comparing him to a Greek God the first time she saw him. But now, like this, naked, basking in firelight, she could appreciate the truly magnificent creature before her—lean, fit, muscular, shoulders wide, stomach flat, waist trim. She walked around him to admire the whole, and he chuckled when she patted his bottom. As she stood before him, he became thicker and more erect. “You’re beautiful,” she said, with awe.

“Chastity, sweet, a man is never beautiful. He is—”

“Adored.”

Reed pulled the blankets from the bed and dropped them on the rug before the hearth, where he took her down, his lips on hers.

She sifted her hands through his hair, from his temple to his nape, enjoying the remarkable experience of caressing at will.

“Does it feel as good to you, my love,” he asked, “to lie naked together, as it does to me?”

Chastity swallowed her sob. He called her his love. If he but realized it, he gave her the greatest of gifts.

He teased her with swift-nibbling half-kisses, upper lip to lower, lower to upper, urging her to open for his assault, teasing her nipples with his fingers, taunting and tantalizing her—both where he touched, and where he did not.

He slid along her body and raised her foot, kissed an arch, an ankle, a calf, making his way up her leg in torturous-slow measure. Emotions she could not name coursed through her, intertwining, in some odd way, with a string of sizzling physical currents.

When he nuzzled her inner thigh, she was embarrassed, humbled. She moaned and, trying to deny herself, closed her eyes, but the pleasure was too great. She let her head fall back and took short, quick breaths to ride the sensations seeming to radiate outward from her core, where last night, he had only put his hands, he now placed his mouth. It had been wonderful, then, unbelievable now.

She should be appalled. She should stop him, but this was Reed, her love, her other half. Chastity knew it as she arched, reaching for burst after starburst. She cried his name, and he was there, kissing her, swallowing her cries, gentling her by stroking her, a paradoxically soothing counterpoint to the maelstrom he had created with the same velvet touch.

He was hers. Hers.

Reed touched his brow to Chastity’s, breathing hard, caressing softly where his mouth had just been. She was so incredibly sweet, it almost hurt. He feared for a moment that this gift was too great to accept. But accept it he must. He must or perish. “Are you all right? Do you want more?”

“More, please,” his love begged, barely catching her breath.

His love? Was she?

Yes, damn it. Chastity had become his love. God’s teeth, he was in for it now. No more could come of it, but he knew, by God, that she would belong to him, even after they parted, for as long as life held them on this earthly plane, longer perhaps, if Chastity had the right of it.

With the knowledge came a flash of understanding for his old friends, Gideon and Sabrina, Hawk and Alexandra, the rogues and their wives, famous for escaping from evening company. Gideon had once said that his love for Sabrina transcended life, and Hawk had later corroborated the sentiment in speaking of Alex. Love explained this communion of souls that couples sought at every opportunity.

Reed rose and led Chastity to the bed, lay them down, and sighed with a new contentment.

He laved her breasts, suckling forever, while she stroked and relished, as well. He had intended this as a tease, a hint of what was to come, but his treacherous body found near release with the act, and he was not alone in rapture. The pinnacle they teetered upon carried them so near the edge, ‘twas a wonder they did not tumble headlong into oblivion.

If this was a taste, then he was in heaven. Her lips sought his, even as she shuddered, and when he found her, nothing could mask the nectar of her sweet desire.

“Ready for your next lesson?” he asked, breath short.

“There’s more?” Chastity tried to sit up but fell back. I’ll never survive.” But a minute after, she grinned and surprised him by coaxing him to his back and rising above him. “I want to learn more of you first. May I, and will you answer my questions?”

Now
he
felt virginal and unsure—laughable, he supposed, though he could not, for his wonder in the moment seemed sacred.  

No shrinking miss was this, as Chastity’s gaze made straight for that part of him which most intrigued. When she reached and stroked the length of him, he nearly lost control.

She took him into her hands, from his ballocks to the tip of his thrumming shaft. “It’s ... wet,” she said, “at the tip. I’m wet too.”

“That’s because I ... want you,” he said, between clenched teeth, as she manipulated him, “and you want me.”

“Is it?”

He could not believe the question. He could not think. “If you do not stop—”

Chastity cried out and leapt from the bed.

He caught her, weeping, as she reached the door and pulled her close. “Shh.” Something serious had just happened, but what? He wanted to wrap her in the safety of his embrace and prove that no fear could intrude.

“Chastity? Sweetheart, look at me.” He held her face between his hands. “I liked what you were doing. It was wonderful. You were wonderful. I liked it so much, that if you had not stopped, I would have spilled my seed too soon. I wanted that to happen at the right time, to the two of us, together. Do you understand?”

“I guess.”

He guessed she did
not
. “Come back to bed. I want to make love to you.”

“Are we making love?” she asked, and his heart skipped.

He carried her and kissed her all the way back to the bed, even as he set her down, and she settled herself perfectly against him. “There, that’s where it’s supposed to be, is it not?”

“For now,” he said, gauging her reaction.

She moved against him. “Why does it throb?”

He pulled away, looked into her eyes. “Chastity, you were married. Really, truly married? In every way?”

She nodded. “Yes, of course.” She blushed. “Can we do what comes next, please?”

He forgot his concern over her contradictory innocence. “God, yes,” he said as he moved over her, but the look in her eyes stayed him. Was it fear? She had been married for a mere two days, so she might remember only pain.

He smoothed his hand gently down her body, to ready her and she arched. On the instant, her breathing quickened, and as he poised to enter her, she raked his back, his buttocks, with her nails, and Reed had no choice but to thrust; neither of them prepared to accept less.

In that fateful moment, Reed understood the true depth of her innocence, but it was too late. No turning back, for innocence had fled, and in its place, a woman.

“I love you,” she whispered.

He said the same, or he thought he did, before he lost all sense of self, aware only of her, soaring with him, hearts beating as one.

Chastity, the woman he loved.

Gold-crested wrens chattered their good mornings in the sprawling beach tree outside the window. Chastity rolled over, and found a solid wall—Reed Gilbride’s naked chest. Her heart quickened as his arms closed around her, his lips upon her brow, his sex stirring to life.

They made love all night, a pleasure beyond any she could have imagined. She was sore, and glad after all that Reed called a halt to their play, though God knew he wanted to continue as much as she. At her initiation, he had let her stroke him to release one last time before they slept. Now she understood what he had meant when she was learning him, about not wanting to reach release too soon.

“As much as I’d like to make love to you again,” he said, “the children will be awake soon, and perhaps it’s best they do not find you here, naked, when—”

“Good Lord!” She jumped from his bed so fast, she left him laughing.

Later, in the kitchen, her warm face foretold her color, she knew, as Reed entered and she stirred the gruel.

“Thea hasn’t returned, it seems.”

“I like Kitty’s cookin’ better anyway,” Luke said.

Reed ruffled his hair. “So do I.”

Chastity laughed skeptically.

“I’m ravenous. I’ll eat anything.”

“That’s more like the Reed, I know.”

“Your fault.”

Rebekah came in dragging the bottom half of a tiny white casket, her doll tucked neatly inside.

Chastity dropped her spoon. “Good God!”

“Where the dev— Ah. “ He knelt and tapped Bekah’s nose. “Where did you get that, Poppet?”

She pointed. “Luke.”

“I found it and knew it would make a fine cradle.” The well-intentioned boy looked from Chastity to Reed. “What?”

“I’ll make you a new bed for your baby this afternoon, Poppet,” Reed promised Bekah. “But I have to put this back where it belongs.” He regarded Chastity. “I have some cleaning to do. I’ll be back for lunch. Boys, finish breakfast and do your chores. Help Chastity, Poppet,” he added before he left, half a small casket tucked under his arm.

Chastity knew Reed was upset about what he had not found, and her heart went out to him. He needed to know his roots and she hurt for him, especially now.

Now that they’d made love, they were part of each other, forever, though they’d not be together, she knew, not on this earth. One of them would leave, but she would always remember.

She smoothed a hand over her abdomen. She understood now, about having a child, and wished for one more gift, a child of his to love and cherish, as she would not be able to love and cherish its father.

She frowned. What would Mr. Sennett think? Then she remembered that none of it mattered. She put her fate in greater hands. Whatever happened, none could sever the love she and Reed shared. She would accept what fate decreed. God saw fit to give her Reed, after all, and she would be grateful to the end of her days. She gazed beyond raw oak beams and plaster ceiling. Please.

After dinner, Rebekah placed her baby in its new cradle, half of an old oak barrel.

“She doesn’t seem to mind the switch,” Chastity said.

Reed tweaked Bekah’s nose. “She didn’t mind a casket, why would she mind a barrel?”

“This one rocks,” Luke said.

Matt and Luke played house with her. Mark refused, arms folded, and remained stubborn and unmoving, while they played around him. Bekah minded not at all, she simply patted his head and said, “Good doggie,” every so often.

Chastity took Reed’s arm. “Let’s go for a walk. Matt, watch your sister and brothers, and make sure Bekah’s doggie doesn’t make a mess in the house.”

Mark could not hide the near-smile in his eyes.

“Stop worrying,” Chastity said. “I am not sorry about last night.”

“Neither am I.” He kissed her.

“I’m concerned about what your search is doing to you. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

He sat on a stone wall and pulled her down beside him. “If I’m a St. Yves twin, why not two notes? Why did my twin not come—if I am indeed one of them—unless he’s dead?” Reed ran a hand through his hair.

Chastity’s heart hit her ribs, the way it had on that moonless night when Reed’s voice split the darkness outside the workhouse. Perhaps, this too was for the best. She had already decided to give Reed William’s note, and now she removed it from her pocket and handed it to him. Why had she fooled herself into believing it did not matter?

“I wondered where it went,” Reed said. “Where did you find it?”

“Luke found your note after you were shot. I’ve had it since.” She bit her lip and pulled another from her pocket.

Reed gazed from one to the other, turned them over and read the names on the back. When he looked up, foreboding skittered up her spine. “I’m sorry.”

Reed shook his head. “This was your husband’s?”

“We were on our way to Mr. Sennett when William died.”

“How many times, Chastity, have you lied to me?”

“No, I never did. I never actually—”

“You never actually said you were a nun. You never actually said you were married.  His voice rose with every word. “You never said there was another note, that you were untouched. You never told me who you are, Chastity Somers, and I do not believe I know you at all.”