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Authors: Susannah Merrill

Captives' Charade (26 page)

BOOK: Captives' Charade
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Shegrippedhim,moldinghisbodymore tightly to hers, feeling as if she were about to burst into millions of glimmering stars. She felt faint, weak, yet strangely powerful, driven.

But it was a short-lived tumble of sensations for just as suddenly as her passions had risen, he stopped, and in the next instant, she felt his spasmodic tremors deep within her belly.

Stewart lay so still and heavy atop her that for a moment, Sarah thought he had suffered an attack, or had lost consciousness. A torrent of conflicting emotions engulfed her – concern, relief, curiosity, confusion, and fulfillment. None would take sure hold, yet none could she dismiss. Her eyes, still wet, filled again with unshed tears.

It was then that her lover, for that was surely what he had become, raised his head and with eyes aglow, carefully took in every detail of her lovely face, clearly defined in the white shaft of moonlight. With tender care, he brushed a damp ringlet from her temple, lovingly kissed her tears, stroked her high cheekbones, her slender nose and outlined her swollen lips with feather-soft touches.

Sarah returned his stare, her wide blue eyes and expressive brows revealing her myriad thoughts as if they were spoken aloud. “You are feeling many things,” he murmured, “but I sincerely pray that regret is not among them.”

“No ....” she replied hesitantly and then with conviction. “No, regret is not one.” The realization impressed her, and her spirits lifted a little. “What of you?”

He pondered his answer carefully, then spoke in a low voice. “If I could have given as much pleasure as I have found this night, then I would be the happiest man on earth. Would that I could have spared you the pain ....”

She put her finger to his lips. “Don’t. ‘Tis a maiden’s lot, that much I knew.”

“Do you know that you have never looked more beautiful than this moment? Do you know that your body was made for a man’s caress and that your innocent passion stirs me more than I can say?” Her eyes lowered in shy delight that this aloof, often arrogant man should be moved to speak such heady words of praise. Stewart kissed her again, gently, lovingly, reluctantly removing himself from the warm shelter of her body, though his arms still enfolded her in newfound familiarity. “Tired?”

Sarah thought a moment, not quite sure of the relationship she now shared with the strong, handsome man who lay beside her. She considered it ironic that their intimate actions did not naturally evoke a comfortable openness between them. But she forced herself to speak honestly, although she could not look at him. “I-I am confused mostly ... I don’t know how this,” she gestured, “happened when I should be pulling my hair out with grief. I am thinking I must be a terrible person.”

“No, never that,” Stewart interjected soundly, pulling her close to his broad chest, his hands sending warm shivers through her body. “Some things would be devastating if we considered them too soon. You will grieve when you are ready. And I will be here to comfort you.”

His words brought a peacefulness to her that she had not felt in a very long time. Too weary to contemplate why or how, she sighed, closing her eyes and soon was sleeping easily.

But Stewart lay awake for a long time, staring up at the mirrored canopy and the reflection of himself and the tender child-woman curled up so trustingly next to him. It was a scene he had long pursued, and now, having won it, was strangely uncertain about the wisdom of it. She was so vulnerable and it pained him to think that he might have made a mistake, an error that would compound her suffering when he had only meant to ease it. I should heed my own advice, he thought irritably, and not consider it fully too soon.

Sarah stirred, brushing her eye in sleepy annoyance, then huddled closer to Stewart, her leg moving comfortably between his, as if sleeping in his arms were a pleasant habit. In the darkness, Stewart smiled, then placed an affectionate kiss on her perfumed temple. A pleasurable wave of contentment overrode his reservations and he, too, dozed off into a sound slumber.
CHAPTER 25

The intense screaming raised gooseflesh on Sarah’s feverish skin. She ran forward, then whirled around, not sure whether to find or escape the source. Blinding tears caused her to stumble. Jungle foliage impeded her frantic attempts to rise. The screaming continued, louder and more agonized than before. Then a voice, a sweet consoling, feminine voice very close to her ear said, “Don’t worry, mum. Mr. Chamberlain knows what to do. Gives a body peace of mind knowing that such a fine man is protecting us.”

Sarah’sheadsnappedaround.Therewas Tegan, her impish face beaming with confidence beneath her shaggy auburn locks. “There, there mum. See? Nothing to fret about. Mr. Chamberlain’s taking good care of us.” The boyish figure in ragged seaman’s clothes walked easily through the tangled underbrush, away from the spot where Sarah had fallen.

“Tegan!Teeg!”Sarahsobbed.“Comeback. Don’t leave me here, please!”

“You’re in good hands, mum. And what a lucky one you are to catch his eye!” The maid was gone, swallowed up by the unforgiving tropical forest.

“OhmyGod!Tegan,comeback.Pleasedon’t leave me here,” she choked, her heart breaking at the loneliness that engulfed her. “Don’t leave me. Please ... don’t leave me!”

“Sarah!I’mrighthere.Iwon’tleaveyou. You’re safe ... I’m here.” But it was not Tegan’s voice consoling her, nor Tegan’s hands grasping her shoulders. It was a man, a warm, compassionate figure hovering over her in the moonlight.

“Stewart!” The relief of recognition swept over Sarah like a cooling ocean wave. Sobbing helplessly, she flung her arms about him, seeking the sheltering haven of his powerful body. Wrenchingly she confessed her misery, crying ceaselessly into his warm flesh. “Stewart ... I saw her ... I saw Tegan ... but she’s dead. It was only a dream. She’s dead, Stewart. Teeg’s dead!”

She wept, her outpouring overwhelmingly tormented. The pain was a physical torture as well as an anguished guilt. That sweet, fearless Tegan should be killed so undeservedly when she was merely doing the bidding of others ... the atrocity was too much to bear.

Thememoriesflowed,eachonemore discomforting than the last. All these years, Sarah had considered her sister, Lady Juliana, her closest companion, and yet it was Tegan she turned to, confided in, depended on. And now she was gone, leaving Sarah alone ... with no one.

But even as the pain, the guilt and the loneliness coursed through her, bringing a physical ache to her very soul, Sarah was not unaware of the comfort she found in the body she clutched so desperately. The very same man who had been the source of turmoil in her life was now the one lending her strength, for she had none of her own.

With whispered words and gentle touches, Stewart eased her misery. If only a whit, it was more than Sarah expected, and she was grateful for his nearness. Finally, when her wrenching sobs dissipated into feeble, involuntary shudders, she opened her swollen eyes, seeking the words to express her jumbled, exhausted thoughts.

“I-IamsorryifIwokeyou.Thedream...it was so real. It made me remember ... eeverything ... and I c-couldn’t help m-myself.” As new tears threatened to fall, Sarah covered her face with her hands, embarrassed by her weakness.

“You needed to cry. And I told you I would be here, so you needn’t apologize.” Stewart pulled her closer, prying her fingers away from her wet face, kissing each digit tenderly. “Tegan was your friend. The memories will haunt you for a long time.”

That fact she agreed with completely, and her body responded with another quaking sigh. “What are we going to do now?”

“I need to speak with Jeremiah, to find out what he knows, if anything at all,” Stewart mused. “There was no opportunity this evening. “D’Alava made certain of that.” He studied her wide-eyed, confused and heart-broken stare, and added, “Besides, I was more concerned about you.”

Her gaze dropped then, for she was suddenly taken with remembrances of his tenderness toward her, a gentleness that she was not quite ready to trust, even now that they had become lovers.

Observing the vulnerability in her mien, Stewart was moved to place a consoling kiss on her brow, only too aware of her compliant form beneath him. He considered easing himself away from this silken temptation, but was hugely relieved when she raised trembling lips to find his, her arms persistent in their wish to hold him fast.

After the many battles provoked by his desires and her reluctance, this newfound intimacy was all the more addictive, a bond nearly won yet still tenuous. It was this uncertainty that compelled Stewart to proceed cautiously, hoping he would do nothing that would cause her, in confusion, to turn away from the comfort he so wanted to offer.

Sarah, on the other hand, her emotions still raw and shaky, had not yet achieved objectivity, responding only to the deep and fervent call within her. The rightness -- or wrongness -- was for now not the issue. Only the need to be possessed, to be completely and utterly distracted from the fear and misery that Tegan’s death perpetuated. Even now as his molten kisses and practiced caresses thrilled her, his consuming embrace was a profound solace, a measure of relief she had never expected, but cherished just the same.

And responded to, she realized, as her body arched and writhed in anticipation. As his tongue played havoc with the sensitive tips of her breasts, she knew that she would endure any amount of pain to hold him within her, to find that release she had been so close to discovering before. His learned fingers stroked and petted her, sharing a knowledge of her body that mystified as much as it delighted her. How could he perpetuate this longing with such ease and skill? It was ironic that he seemed intensely familiar with the body that was a complete stranger to its very owner.

But these random thoughts flew quickly when he raised himself up to enter her. She gasped with pleasure that the time had come, and he quickly dismissed the semblance of restraint he had planned. So it was that their coming together was urgent, filled with need and lacking reservation. Their warm bodies meshed and swayed in response to ancient consuming propelled rhythms desires dictated by the sweeping,

that overtook them. Sarah, into enthusiasm by the surprising absence of pain, reveled in the blissful surrender to this lean, hard man who was still as much a stranger as her lover.

His every touch was fire; his whispered endearments reverberated in her mind, his powerful thrusts she welcomed with unabashed relish. Again she experienced the tumultuous and wildly exciting phenomenon of her body taking on a life of its own, a sensation so bold and conquering that she was left a gasping voyeur of her own actions. But unlike before, there was no abrupt end to this unearthly rapture, only a blazing, devouring intensification, like a fire gone out of control. And she, the willing, nay, eager victim of this holocaust, clung to its purveyor, his name torn from her lips in a smoldering kiss, riding like a shooting comet to the summit of fulfillment as his throbbing rejoinder found surcease.

Minutes, or was it hours, passed before Sarah found the strength or desire to wrest from the fusion of their damp bodies. The high blush provoked by her fevered capitulation had waned into a translucent glow, making her smoky blue eyes appear even larger and more prominent than before. As Stewart slid himself to her side, she burrowed her face into the hollow beneath his chin, hoping to cloak from his observant brown eyes the utterly complete surrender of her will and resistance to him.

For now she realized that her virginity had not been the prize she had been guarding with haughty disapproval. No, it was this deep and overpowering enslavement that had overtaken her body long before she gave it, this inability to govern herself, to fend off the lusting desire she felt for him.

And now the truth was even more awesome than the fear, for her very soul had betrayed its most potent secret, one that even she had not learned until this night: Her body would always be his no matter how her mind balked or her actions refuted it. He knew what he had done, and just as surely would bring her to this helplessness again. It was no less than blackmail and it was with shame that she admitted willingness to pay the price whenever he exacted it.

Expecting his smugness over her total submission, Sarah was surprised when he whispered in a compassionate tone, gently running his fingers up and down her side as she lay cradled in his arms, “You’ve known the full measure of a woman’s response. ‘Tis not always the way, especially for one so ... new.” Another betrayal! Even her lack of experience had not prevented her from proving her consuming lust for him. When she did not speak, he continued, “Now I am surely the happiest man alive, for you have known the full pleasure your body was meant to enjoy.”

Her silence filled the room and he pushed her back into the pillows in order to see her face clearly, though she was reluctant to match his gaze. “Does your passion embarrass you?” It was much too simplistic an explanation, but it seemed a harmless one to admit to and would curtail his probing. She nodded. His lips curled into a benevolent smile before coming to rest on the sensitive skin below her ear. “Well, my darling, it is your right to enjoy lovemaking as much as any other. Your perfect body demands perfect fulfillment, and I will do my best to satisfy you.”

And I you, she wanted to say, but could not let him see how weak and servile he had made her. Something warned her that humble devotion would not please him, though she would gladly offer it if it would. Fighting back tears threatening her composure, she kissed his strong jaw and nestled her head on his muscular shoulder, feigning exhaustion. But long after the sound of his breathing had become regular, Sarah lay forlorn and sleepless, watching the black night fade into early morn.
CHAPTER 26

Themorningsunwasharsh,anunwelcome intruder into the unshaded bedroom where Sarah lay, groggy and uncomfortably warm. The twisted sheet clung to her naked form and her tangled hair lay matted against her fevered cheek. Rubbing her face in sleepy annoyance, she struggled to figure out the reason for her pervasive lassitude.

Butofcourse!Thesunwashigh;shehad slept uncommonly late. Sarah sat up quickly, the sheet falling away to be quickly replaced by her heavy tresses. She studied the room in confusion, wondering why she had not been wakened at the usual time by Stewart or Galena’s stirrings.

BOOK: Captives' Charade
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