Gallant Rogue (Reluctant Heroes Book 3) (30 page)

Alone, together, without a light to make them feel guilt for their desires.

The taste of his tongue, so warm and rough in her mouth was enough to make the horror recede. She needed Jack to make her nightmares flee. Chloe pulled back from their kiss and struggled to be let loose from his arms. She stood and straddled his legs with her bare feet. “Come,” she said, surprised by the throaty timbre of her voice. “Come to my bed and the comfort it affords us.”

His hand reached up beneath her gown to trace lightly up the curve of her calf and then her thigh. The fingertips moved in slow circles on the back of her knee.

Chloe sensed he was looking up at her, waiting for further prompting.

“If I do, there is no turning back. Be certain you want this, my dear.”

She bent down and took his hand from behind her knee. “I’ve wanted this for a long time. Since that night in your cabin. You shoved me out the door.”

"No, I moved you away to safety. I removed the temptation before I acted on it and made us both sorry."

"I will not be sorry, Captain. I refuse to be sorry for desiring so fine a man."

Jack rose. Her heart surged as he started to follow her inside. The slight tug of his hand stopped her progress, and Jack let go of her hand and stepped away from her in the black hall.

Disappointment filled Chloe as she realized he might just move her away from him again to avoid temptation. The clank of metal on the floor seemed loud in the stillness of the night. Jack followed her into her room and closed the door. A flash of silver, and she realized what he had bent to retrieve--his sword.

Chloe climbed up on to the high four-poster bed and waited for him to follow her.

She waited for several moments as she realized he was removing his boots and his weapons.  Then, the bed dipped, and she felt his arms wind about her.

“I wish we had a candle,” she murmured against his chest. His skin was cool and smooth. He’d removed his shirt, and his boots. The trousers were still on, as the belt he wore pressed against her side. 

“It’s too risky. We don’t want soldiers coming here.”  His lips brushed over her hair in search of her face.  “Sweet Chloe, where are you?” At last, his lips found their target, her mouth.

The kiss was tentative at first, and then as she welcomed him it deepened until his tongue had full possession of her mouth. They sank back, together, into the embrace of the soft feather mattress. This was a noble’s bed, not a straw pallet or the ground. She was pleased they'd waited until now to come together as lovers.

Chloe surrendered to his slow, patient hands and savored the feel of him in her own as she explored his hard contours. His chest was carved from stone, firm yet smooth as velvet beneath her fingertips. The fresh scent of rosemary and lemon thyme on his skin was delicious and fresh. She nibbled on his earlobe and worked at his belt as his hands cupped her backside and lifted her to straddle him like a rider mounting a stallion. Chloe liked the allusion. She liked the sense of power it gave her to sit atop him.

The belt latch was sharp, she learned, as she cut her finger in trying to free him from the confining sheath of his pants. “Ouch.” She sat upright and pulled her hand to her mouth, suckling the wound to ease the sting. 

“Let me, there is a sharp edge to the buckle, makes it a useful blade in a tight spot.”

“Yes, I found the sharp edge,” she murmured, still sucking on the cut fingertip.

The jangling sound told her he knew well how to release it. His knees bent up behind her backside, and the trousers slipped down his thighs. “Show me.” His voice in the darkness brought comfort. He was feeling for her hand, groping at her arm to find the wounded member.

Chloe placed her wounded digit in his searching hands. “The middle finger.” She directed. His finger moved over the cut and she winced and swore aloud.

“How unladylike,
senora
.” His amusement was apparent. “There, let’s soothe your ache.” With that, he put her finger into his mouth and suckled it hard, as if wresting free any blood that remained in the flesh. His rough tongue soothed the ache away and gave her a naughty idea.

Chloe found his hand and took his thumb into her mouth. She suckled his thumb hard and rough, as he had done with her finger. She slowed her tongue and moved it in light circles up and down in a naughty imitation of the act of love. Chloe released his thumb and moved on to his forefinger. The sharp intake of breath was all the incentive she needed to tell her she’d found a sensual spot. 

The suckling made one imagine other areas that could benefit from the same attention as the sensitive fingertip. For Chloe, it evoked an answering echo in her nipples, making them harden with expectation. For Jack, she could only guess what area of the body his mind might imagine her mouth caressing.

“Enough.” Jack’s finger was jerked from her lips. “Don’t unman me before we begin.”

His statement brought a different kind of pleasure. Chloe leaned forward and licked at his belly, following the narrow channel up to his chest and then she nipped at his nipple.

“Temptress.” He gasped, and grasped her around the waist. Before she knew what had happened, she was beneath him, pinned to the bed with his hard thighs kissing the interior skin of her legs. “Don’t rush me. I want to savor every part of you.”

The seductive words were a different kind of caress. She didn’t have long to savor them. His hands found the soft, womanly part of her and it was her turn to gasp and moan beneath his expert touch. He knew just how to make her squirm. She tossed her head back, nearly rising up beneath him as the spasms of bliss grew into an insatiable storm.

Jack’s mouth covered her nipple. He suckled it through the fabric of her gown. Between his hard use of her nipple and his gifted finger, she was the one about to be undone. Her gasps of pleasure were transforming into more audible groans.

“Shhh, little temptress. You’ll wake the house,” his lips were close to her ear. He had lowered himself and was poised at her entrance. “Are you ready for invasion, my little Spaniard, or do you need more coaxing to accommodate me?”

“Let the invasion begin,” she answered saucily, letting her hands slide from his shoulders, down his bare back and firm hips to cup at his naked backside. She pulled him to her, and he thrust his weapon inside her at the same moment. She wanted to shriek in triumph, as her loving with Gareth had always been boisterous and unrestrained. Chloe gasped as the length of Jack Rawlings slid into her core, widening the narrow channel and heightening her pleasure.

Jack bent to kiss the exuberant woman beneath him, if only to keep her from embarrassing herself by waking the others. She was a seductive vixen beneath that Spanish pride and simmering temper. He covered her mouth with his, stifling her moans of desire. The muted sound of her pleasured cries brought him to a quick release. He drove hard into her and then quickly withdrew, spilling his seed onto the sheets beneath her slender thighs.

The darkness swallowed them. He rolled onto his side so his bulk was not flattening her and gathered her against him. She was warm and soft, pliant in his arms, purring like a contented cat.

“Sleep, love.” He nuzzled her ear and brushing light kisses over her temple.

Chloe reached up to stroke his rough cheek. She seemed intrigued by his crude growth. "My golden captain.”  Her words were slurred, languid, as if she were drunk on his loving. “My golden Poseidon, lord of the seas.”

Such fire and imagination
. He lapped up her unusual words of praise. They were not the silly murmurings of a well--paid whore, his typical companions. He paid them well and they repaid him in kind, with false praise and false exuberance.

This was different. This was an honorable woman who had invited him to her bed for pleasure, not coin.

Why?
He wondered, holding her close and savoring the feel of her in his arms.

She was thrust into uncertain and dangerous circumstances. Perhaps she was merely reaching out to him for comfort, as he was her only link to the familiar she had. He was grateful for the darkness, as the velvet night would hide any regrets as she realized what she had done. He hoped the morning would not destroy this brief brush with heaven.

He hoped in the morning she would not despise him for accepting her offer and taking her in her bed.

“If you look closely in the daylight, you’ll see that my golden hair is giving way to silver.”

“A mark of distinction in a gentleman,” she whispered in that sensual timbre. “A thread of silver is just as precious as one of gold.” Her hand moved through his slightly damp hair. “I wish things were . . .”

“Don’t say it.” He was uneasy with what was to come. He pulled her hand from his hair and placed it on her belly. Jack rolled over and sat up in the dark room.

She didn’t need to remind him that tomorrow this would be just a lovely memory, that she would go on to embrace her role as niece to a missing Spanish marquis and he would return to his duty as her escort and captain of the Pegasus. He knew there could be little between them but stolen kisses in the night. Jack wanted more, but he was not a romantic fool fresh from the university with rosy cheeks and equally rosy ideas about love. He was a grown man who knew his place in the world, accepted it, and for the most part tried to be content in it.

“Jack, my love, you’ve become pettish.” Her voice was like silk, sliding over his skin. She sat up and reached for him, hugging his torso against her small body as she draped herself over his back from behind. “Do not pull away and return to your duty. We have time, Jack, we have hours before the dawn.”

Her slender hand moved over his thigh, caressing, teasing, jolting him back to life.

He groaned as she hovered over his bare shoulder, offering a clear invitation. Did she want him again, so soon?
Great Neptune,
the woman was demanding.

Not that he minded. She was a widow and likely had missed the act of love.

She lay back on the pillows and he followed her, draping himself over her and kissing her sweetly as the fire in his loins made his sword rise to salute her a second time.

*    *   *

When Chloe awakened, Jack was gone. Last night was a beautiful dream.

Rose-gold sunlight bathed her room in soft hues of warm light. She moved to the window to peer out at the landscape beyond, feeling the loss of his body snuggled next to hers.

Jack had always been in there, in the background.  She'd admired the man through all the years of their association. He was the count's friend, a frequent guest at their table. She'd loved Gareth with all of her heart; there was no denying it. Gareth had been there for her at just the right time. He completed her, healed her lonely heart and helped her through the darkness.

She'd been alone for over a year. And now there was Jack, a shining knight in his golden hair. A mature man, but a chivalrous hero. They could be comfortable together, couldn't they?

He might not be in love with her, as Gareth had been, but many marriages were made for other reasons, weren't they? She cared for him, and she was certain he did care for her. They might be happy, comfortable--even if love weren't in the picture.

Marta came into her room. The girl appeared well rested. Chloe smiled at her, pleased to see a better side to the girl after their night spent in the wilderness, sleeping on the ground.

"Ma'am, you must go see," Marta said, meeting her at the window. "It's beautiful, too beautiful for words. You must go, quickly, and see the almond grove as the sun rises. The flowers are blooming. The mist is rising, and the sunlight, it's . . . it's so magical."

"We are to stay indoors, until the captain sends for us." Chloe reminded the girl. "You should not be wandering alone out in the perimeter."

"Oh, no. It's fine. The men were out there, too, ma'am. The captain and Lt. Morgan were out before sunrise, scouting about the edge of the farm. If you look beyond the stables and that barn you'll see the captain out there now." 

Chloe followed the direction that Marta was pointing. She saw the golden sunlight, and she saw Jack standing in the middle of a grove of trees. He was studying the far horizon, toward the hills. His back was to her. She needed no more incentive. Chloe left the room and ran out past the stables in her chemise and petticoat to meet him.

The trees were as Marta said. Magical. Enchanted in the morning light, as the pink blooms were gilded with a halo of gold. The sky was ivory-gold, not yet a pure blue as the sun coming over the eastern hill bathed the little valley in yellow. The mists were lifting from the wet grass at her feet. She paused several feet from her goal, from Jack, and just admired him for a long moment. He still had his back to her as he scrutinized their surroundings. He held his rifle on his shoulder, and his sword was strapped to his side.

She never remembered Captain Rawlings appearing so lovely and so magnificent before this moment.  His hair was shining in the low light as a bar of sunshine found its way through a break in the trees to kiss his head. The scent of almond blossoms, so sweet and delicate, mingled with the fresh dew of the earth and filled the air with misty sweetness that was just this side of cloying. The birds were serenading them, wishing them joy and happiness in this golden dawn.

Chloe wanted to rush to his side and hug him. Her heart was full again, full of hope. Angelica Rose said love awaited her in Spain.
Warm hugs and gold. Like waves of sunshine.

Jack chose that moment to turn about. Perhaps he sensed her approach. He saw her, and stopped. His hand was on the strap of the rifle, keeping it slung on his shoulder. His mood was somber. Did he feel the same? Did he realize they were meant to be together?

"Morning." His brusque tone took her off guard. It shattered some of the elation she felt after making love with the man twice last night.

"Jack." She whispered his name with reverence. He stepped through the golden mist, past the black silhouette of the trees. His golden head dipped beneath a pink almond branch laden with showy blossoms. A few petals fell onto his hair as he moved beneath them to approach her.