Desire in the Sun (43 page)

“Lilah …” Her name was more groan than anything else. She glanced up at him, saw that there were flames in his green eyes. She realized with some surprise that his whole body had gone rigid with tension. The idea that she could have such an effect on her worldly tutor in lovemaking made her smile like a cat with a bowl of cream.

“Ready to surrender yet?” she purred, straightening to nuzzle his neck while her fingers stroked the nipples she had just thoroughly kissed. Pressing her body against him, feeling the heat and strength of him, sent a thrill of excitement through her. His chest was hard against her nearly naked breasts, and she could feel her nipples tighten in response. Against her bare thighs she could feel the tantalizing abrasion of his coarse cotton trousers. Farther up, pressing against her belly, was the steely strength of his manhood, swollen and ready.

At her half-teasing question he managed a laugh, though the sound was thoroughly shaken.

“Never.”

“Be warned, I take no prisoners,” she murmured, and she proceeded to show him what she meant.

Her hand slid down the front of his chest, stroking his heated flesh, and her lips followed, planting little stinging kisses along a line to his belly. As she kissed him above the low-riding line of his trousers, he sucked in his breath, his hands coming up to weave through her hair and press her face closer yet. She found his navel,
explored it with her tongue. He pulled her head back, his eyes hot, and she suddenly realized that she could pleasure him as he had pleasured her.

The thought was shocking, exciting, wanton.

She knelt, barely conscious of the damp ground, and tugged at his trousers. They slid down over his hips, past his thighs, to crumple about his feet.

He was naked, vulnerable … and hers.

Acting on instinct, her hands cupped the hard roundness of his buttocks, and her mouth kissed gently that part of him that had made her a woman.

“Sweet Christ!” The words were a gasp, uttered as though he were dying. She looked up at him inquiringly, to find that he was staring down at her with eyes that smoldered, burned.

Then he was pushing her onto her back on the soft carpet of moss, yanking the chemise up out of his way and parting her thighs with his knee in a single violent motion.

She clasped her arms around his back and lifted her hips to meet him as he thrust wildly inside her.

At last, when he had brought her trembling to the brink and then pushed her over, she got what she wanted. As his body convulsed inside her he groaned the words in her ear: “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Over and over, like a litany.

LIV

L
ater, much later, he helped her dress, grinning lazily as she teased him about the words she still could not get him to say outside of the throes of passion. Then he pulled on his own trousers—again!—and wrapped a hard bare arm around her waist as they made their way back along the path that led to the slave compound. She leaned against him as they walked, enjoying a rush of pure happiness unlike anything she had ever known.

She was sure of it now: Falling in love with Joss was far and away the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her. Whatever the difficulties, whatever it cost her, she wanted to spend her life with him, loving him. As his wife, and the mother of his children. At the thought of children a dreamy smile curved her lips. She’d like a little boy who looked just like Joss, Or a little girl for that matter. Or both. A whole tribe! On that giddy thought, she giggled.

“Now what’s funny?”

She kissed the bare shoulder against which she leaned. “I was thinking of children, A whole tribe of them.”

“Our children?”

She nodded.

“I take it from that that you meant what you said.”

“What?”

“About marrying me.”

She stopped walking to look up at him, suddenly serious. “Yes. I meant it.”

He turned to face her, his hands coming up to slide along her shoulders as he looked down into her eyes. The big orange globe of the moon, already paling and hanging low in the sky with the approach of day, was just visible over his left shoulder. All around them, the world was still shadowy and dark, alive only with small nocturnal creatures and the soft rustle of the cane.

“To marry me, you’ll have to give up all this: your home, and your family, and even some of the luxuries you’re used to.”

The words sounded as though he was saying them almost against his will. Lilah gazed up at him, at the suddenly austere face that she loved more than anything in the world, and felt her heart turn over. He loved her enough to point out the drawbacks of her choice, …

“Are you trying to tell me you can’t support a wife?”

“I can support you, but not, I’m afraid, entirely in the style to which you’re accustomed. I earn a good living, but I’m comfortable, not wealthy.”

“Mmmm. And to think I was hoping to marry for money. Oh, well.” Her attempt to lighten the moment was sweet, but she knew how serious he was now by his next words.

“In all likelihood you’ll never see your family again. Under the circumstances, I won’t be coming back to this—to Barbados. And if you marry me, your father is very likely to write you off as dead.” He seemed determined that she understand precisely what she was doing, now that she had made up her mind to do it.

“I know all that.” Her voice was soft, A faint shadow darkened her eyes. He saw it and his mouth tightened.

“If you marry the Boss Man, you’ll inherit all this, be able to pass it along to your children. You’ll have the life you’ve always known, the life you’ve always said you wanted.”

“I know that, too.”

That he loved her enough to put her needs and wants before his own put every last, lingering doubt to rest. A plantation, even one as beloved as Heart’s Ease, was just that. One thing she had learned over the past few months was that it was people that really mattered. The tragic thing was that in this situation she could not avoid hurting those she loved—her father, Jane, Katy, Kevin and the rest. But she would do it for Joss, whom she loved with a wonderful shining glory she had never in her life expected to feel.

Whatever choice she made, she would, she knew, hurt herself.

But she could live without her family, without Heart’s Ease. She couldn’t live without Joss. Not and be happy.

She chose Joss, now and forever. When she tried to convey that to him he listened to her very gravely, then tilted up her chin so that he could study her face by the soft glow of the moon.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He smiled then, a rare smile that softened his whole face. “You won’t regret it. I’ll take good care of you, I swear.”

She reached up and kissed him.

When they resumed their walk back toward his hut, they started making plans.

“But it would be so much simpler if you would just wait until I can talk my father into freeing you,” she argued as she had for the dozenth time as they skirted the edge of the slave compound. Joss’s hut was on the far side. As they approached it their pace slowed. Unconsciously, each sought to prolong the moment of parting.

“I’m not waiting for any longer than I have to. What I want you to do is make an excuse to go into Bridgetown, and book passage to England for a man and his
wife—make up names. The night before the ship’s to sail, we’ll take horses and ride to Bridgetown. With luck, we should make it just in time to catch the ship before she sets sail with the dawn tide.”

“If they catch us …”

“If we wait for you to talk your father into freeing me—which I think is extremely unlikely, by the way—or for my people in England to finally find me—and I guarantee they’re looking, but probably not on the right trail—we could wait years. I’m not inclined to pass my days at hard labor and my nights waiting for you to sneak into my bed. Besides, the longer we wait, the more dangerous it gets. If we’re found out before we can get away, all hell will break lose.”

He was right, of course, though the thought of fleeing from Heart’s Ease like thieves in the night, never to return, brought butterflies to her stomach. But what choice did she have?

“I’ll tell Jane I need to shop for my trousseau. She won’t make the least objection if I want to go to Bridgetown for that.”

Joss made a face. “I take it you’re not planning to tell the Boss Man that the wedding’s off.”

“I think it would be better if I didn’t. It might make him wonder about the reason, and it might not take him long to think of you.”

“I suppose he’ll figure it out when you run off with me.” Lilah looked up at Joss, and was relieved to see that he was grinning. “Lord, I’d love to see his face when he gets the news!”

“Kevin’s really very nice,” she protested halfheartedly as they reached his hut.

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that. Come in for a minute. You left something behind on your last visit that you need to retrieve.”

“What?”

“Your shoes.”

Joss was opening the door as he spoke. He stood back for Lilah to precede him. She did, and stopped dead two paces inside the door. There, on Joss’s cot, just barely visible in the gloom, sat Kevin.

The pair of slippers she’d left behind dangled from his hand.

LV

F
or a long moment Lilah and Kevin stared at each other, equally appalled. Joss walked in behind her, said something, saw Kevin, and froze. Kevin didn’t even glance at him. His attention was riveted on Lilah. Slowly he placed her shoes beside him on the cot, reached over, struck flint on steel, and lighted the lantern. By its yellow light he looked across at her again. Stunned speechless, Lilah had not moved. Behind her, Joss recovered enough presence of mind to close the door so that their confrontation, whatever came of it, would be private. He leaned against the door, palms flattened back against the wood, eyes watchful.

“Kevin…” Lilah said at last, her throat so dry that his name emerged as little more than a croak. The expression on his face was indescribable.

“You … little … slut,” he said, and stood up. Lilah saw that he was fully dressed down to his boots. The only thing missing was his cravat; the throat of his shirt was open. In the tiny room he looked massive. Behind her Lilah felt Joss straighten, tense.

“No,” she said, gesturing to Joss to stay where he was. Every protective instinct that she possessed warned her that Joss would be the primary target of Kevin’s fury. Joss moved anyway, taking a step forward so that he stood just slightly behind her. However much she protested,
the feel of his solid strength at her back was comforting. Disaster had struck, and her mind raced in crazy circles as she tried to think of a way out for them.

Kevin fumbled at the waistband of his tobacco-brown breeches. When he withdrew his hand seconds later, Lilah was horrified to see that he was holding a pistol.

“No!” she said again, holding up a hand to ward him off. “Kevin, please! I … I know how it must look to you, but—”

Joss quickly gripped Lilah’s shoulders and tried to shift her to one side, out from between his body and the pistol. Heart pounding, Lilah refused to budge.

Kevin laughed, the sound harsh, bitter. “You should move, Lilah. This is for him.”

Naked hate was in his voice on the last word.

“Kevin.” Her blood thudded in her ears as she sought for a way to placate him. “Kevin, you … you’re wrong in what you’re thinking. I … we—”

“Don’t insult his intelligence, sweetheart.” Joss’s voice was cool and insolent as he seemingly addressed her but looked at Kevin. She winced at the blatant provocation in Joss’s words and voice. “Since he’s discovered our secret, you might as well admit that you’ve been sleeping with me for months.”

The noise Kevin made sounded like something that might have come from an enraged bull. Dark color rushed to his face, turning the blunt features an ugly shade of puce. His mouth twisted into a snarl. His hazel eyes burned as they fixed on Lilah’s face.

“You … you … how could you?” Kevin sputtered, his chest heaving as he drew in a great draught of air. Then he continued in a strangled voice: “How could you let him put his hands on you? Any other man would be bad enough, but him—for God’s sake, he’s not even white!”