Moonlight Lover (23 page)

Sin-Jin stood back quietly, nursing a single glass of punch, watching Franklin hold court. At seventy-seven, the fabled inventor, writer, philosopher, scientist and diplomat looked like a much younger man than someone who had done enough deeds to fill three lifetimes. With infirmities constantly assaulting his body, he held them all at bay, refusing to be taken prisoner by any of them. More importantly, he refused to surrender to the stagnation of old age.

"Vital thoughts, that's the key," he had confided to Sin-Jin earlier. He chuckled as he continued. "That and a warm, willing young woman." He had sighed as he thought of several who had passed through his life. "Never underestimate the good that can do, either. Keeps the blood flowing."

He had winked broadly then and Sin-Jin had no doubts that the rumors concerning Franklin's romantic assignations were not exaggerated.

At the moment, the man was surrounded by well-wishers and admirers of both genders.

Jason joined his friend on the sidelines. "So, what do you think of our first glorified statesman and patriot?" he asked Sin-Jin as he helped himself to more punch. Riley drifted over to the two men, beaming as if Franklin had been his very own invention.

Sin-Jin raised his glass in Franklin's direction in a silent toast. "We've none in England like him, that's for bloody sure."

Rachel had sworn to herself on the way to the party that she would do her best to avoid Sin-Jin. Yet less than an hour into the festivities, she found herself making her way toward him. Obviously her best was not nearly good enough.

She tried to deny her own involvement in straying from her self-appointed path by telling herself that it would be rude to avoid one of her hosts. It wasn't her fault if the host happened to be standing next to Sin-Jin. Such things were beyond her control.

"What did you two talk about while he stayed with you?" Rachel addressed her question vaguely to Sin-Jin.

She took care to stand next to her brother rather than Sin-Jin. Though her tone was careless, she had been dying to discover if Franklin had said anything about her to Sin-Jin. More importantly, if Sin-Jin had asked about her.

"Everything." There was no missing the admiration in Sin-Jin's voice. "I've never known anyone who was such a cornucopia of knowledge. The man's mind is a wonder, an absolute treasure trove of information. He seems to know something about everything."

Three days had never passed so quickly for him, nor had he ever been so sorry to see them slip away. He would have gladly gone on in Franklin's company indefinitely.

"He does," Rachel asserted proudly, turning to watch the elderly man.

Riley silently nudged Jason, then glanced to the side, indicating that they should leave. Jason nodded, not troubling himself to hide his smile. The two eased themselves away from Rachel and Sin-Jin, who scarcely noticed their absence.

Sin-Jin was aware of the way Rachel looked at Franklin. There was both admiration and an air of protectiveness about it. "You think a lot of him, don't you?"

She nodded, smiling as she watched Franklin bend to whisper something in a young woman's ear. The woman laughed, blushing as she hid her smile behind a fan. "I love that old man. When he found us, we were living on the streets, Riley and I."

There was no shame in her voice. It was just a fact to be stated. Sin-Jin realized that for once, when she spoke, she wasn't guarding her words the way she had a tendency to do around him.

"I was sick and Riley had stolen Mr. Franklin's purse, hoping to get some money for food. It was just turning dusk." She smiled. "He chased Riley down the street. I remember sitting, huddled in an alleyway, watching my brother's feet come flying in my direction as if the very devil was after him. Instead, it was this ripe old man, his grayish brown hair flying behind him as he lumbered after Riley, huffing and puffing." She laughed fondly.

Rachel turned to look at Sin-Jin. "I was afraid he'd have us taken away to prison. Instead, the soul of kindness he was. He picked me up and carried me to his house." Her voice grew soft with the memory. "Had his housekeeper take care of us. Became our da when he found out we had no one else. And asked nothing in return."

Rachel raised her eyes toward Sin-Jin and he saw the depth of her feeling. "I'd die for that old man if I had to." She cleared her throat, slightly embarrassed. She'd said far more than she had wanted to. "But you never answered my question specifically. What is it you talked about?"

He knew what she was fishing for. He couldn't help touching just the wisp of hair at the nape of her neck. "France, England. You."

She felt the shiver slither down her back, tickling her senses, making them streak through her like lightning through a stormy sky.

"Oh?" She wished she could sound detached, but it wasn't to be. "And what about me?"

He couldn't touch her the way he wanted to, the way he hungered to, so he let his eyes roam about her body instead. She was wearing a flattering green dress the color of the forest at dusk. It nipped at her waist, a waist that would just fit between his hands. And the bodice came low enough to remind him of all that he was missing. He felt his mouth grow dry just to stand so close to her.

"He thinks you have a wonderful mind." The state of Rachel's mind was the furthest thing from his at this moment.

"I do."

He grinned. "And absolutely modest, to boot."

She placed her hands on her hips in a familiar pose that had become imprinted on his mind. "And isn't that just like a man, laughing at the idea of a woman being able to think for herself?"

He wasn't laughing. He hadn't any intention of laughing. Not when he wanted her so much. "You know, I am growing very tired of the labels you keep bestowing on me. You have no idea what it is I think." That all my waking thoughts, more and more, are of you. "You have no idea who and what I am."

"And I want none," she retorted a bit too haughtily, betraying herself again by the tone of her voice.

He'd had enough of this. He took her by the wrist and half led, half pushed her to the terrace. He wanted no one else to overhear them.

"Unhand me, sir!” she demanded in a low hiss. "Why are you dragging me out here?" She raised her voice so that he could hear her above the pounding of her heart. He did hear her heart, she was certain of it. It was making so much noise, it was almost all she could hear herself.

"Because I didn't want anyone to hear you lie like that."

Her eyes were huge as she glared at him. "I do not lie!"

The look in his eyes mocked her words. "Rachel, your lips tell an entirely different story when they're beneath mine."

The arrogant bastard. Just because he unleashed something passionate, something almost heathen within her when he kissed her gave him no right to toss it in her face now like a common country clod. Like a British landlord. "It's bite you I should have done when you took advantage of me."

It was past the time for lies, for excuses to hide behind. He took her hand in his. The look in her eyes, he noted, was murderous.

"No one took advantage of you, Rachel. It's not possible. I've never known a woman who was less helpless than you." When her lips turned into a pout, Sin-Jin added. "It's one of the things I like about you."

His answer stopped the rain of anger within her from pouring out for a moment. She was torn between giving him a good tongue-lashing for his presumption and asking him to tell her more. Need won out over pride. "And what else do you like about me?"

It would take an hour to catalogue. "Your eyes, the way they flash when you talk."

She wanted desperately to hide the fact that his words pleased her. "It's only natural when I'm addressing a heathen."

She couldn't fool him any longer. He knew the bent of her soul, had seen it in her eyes when she had tended to him after the fire. His fingertips skimmed her hair. Like a silken sunset.

"Your hair," he told her. "It's the color of red roses in early spring."

She could feel her breath hitching within her. How could that be when her heart was still madly drumming? "Your tongue is too smooth. You've said things like this before." To other women, all of whom she hated.

But Sin-Jin shook his head. "Only to you, in my dreams."

She wouldn't believe him. She couldn't believe him. She wanted nothing more than to believe him. But there was a method to all this. His. "And next you'll want my head on your pillow—"

He smiled. There would be no lies between them, not hers, not his. "The idea has crossed my mind."

He wouldn't take such a loose stand with her if she were a highborn lady. Her eyes narrowed, even as something small within her yearned for him to make good on his threat.

"Because you've a position and I am but a lowly peasant—"

He wasn't going to have her think like that any longer. "This isn't Ireland, Rachel," he reminded her. "Or England. There are no peasants here." He seemed to stalk her even though they remained where they were. "Admit it, you've had thoughts about me as well. Dreams—" *

She'd take those to the grave with her before admitting to them. "Only about burning you in oil, Lawrence. Slowly."

Ever so gently, he stroked his fingers along the hollow of her cheek and watched a nerve dance there. "It would be a waste."

She pulled her head away, though she thought that

she would die without the touch of his hand. "A matter of opinion."

"Do I frighten you that much?" he asked softly.

There were no better words with which to challenge her. Her eyes grew darker than the shade of her dress. "I'm not afraid of any man."

He had placed a hand on the railing on either side of her, neatly trapping her. "Then why do you back away each time I come close to you?"

They were alone. A delicious feeling coursed throughout the length of her body. She had no defense at her disposal but her tongue and she used it now, desperately, like a lone soldier fighting off a legion of the enemy.

"It's a natural enough defense against a snake. It seems that when St. Patrick drove them out of Ireland, some of them must have swum to England and eventually spawned the likes of you."

She was hiding behind her anger again. He shook his head. "Not good enough."

She suddenly realized that he had trapped her. She glared at the prison of his arms. "Take your hands away this instant."

Instead of drawing them away, he enclosed her in them. "Sorry. But by your own shrewd observation, I am a snake. Therefore I have no hands. It must be your imagination."

As she tried to push him away, Sin-Jin lowered his mouth over hers and satisfied a yearning he had had for too long.

Chapter Twenty-four

She was melting. The night was crisp and cool, with hardly a hint of pending summer in the air, yet she was melting as surely as if she were a wax candle being held just above a blazing fire.

The heat of his mouth had set her very limbs to burning, yearning for something unknown. Yearning for him. And though logic and upbringing dictated that she should push him away with all her might, with all her might she pressed her body closer to his, searching for something that would somehow extinguish this fire that flamed within.

How could he undo her like this, with only his lips as a weapon? How could he fire salvo after salvo, making her want to surrender? And how could it be that with one touch, he sent all thoughts, all sense, all proper decorum flying out through a window, disappearing as if they had never existed? She'd never been a slave to rules. Contrarily, Rachel found a certain pleasure in breaking the hard and fast ones that were meant to hold her in her place.

But this, this madness he created was entirely different.

Rachel felt his mouth roam over her face, and every part of her body tingled in anticipation. He made her feel as if she had wings and was soaring above the clouds. With something so simple as a kiss, he made her feel as if she was no longer part of the earth itself.

Only part of him. And longing to be more so.

She felt his hands as they pressed against her back, molding her to him, felt his mouth as it trailed along her throat discovering secrets about her that she never knew she harbored. Her heart was pounding in her throat, in her chest, and deep inside her very core. It was pounding to a rhythm. And the rhythm bore only one name.

Sin-Jin.

It was no use. The more he took from Rachel, the more he wanted her. And the less he had. She drew more things out of him than she gave, making him almost penitent in his need.

Sin-Jin knew now, if he didn't before, that it wasn't going to be just a simple matter of working her out of his system. She was now part of his system. Rachel was deeply embedded, like a tenacious vine that wove its way in and out of a trellis until the frame completely disappeared from view. Without trying, Rachel had worked her way into his soul, and now he no longer knew where he ended and she began.

If he didn't stop kissing her this moment, he was going to carry her off into the darkness and turn all of his fantasies into reality.

Trembling, employing effort that was almost superhuman, Sin-Jin drew his mouth away from hers. In that single moment, he felt something akin to grief settle over his soul.

She was gasping for breath as if she had run a long way to reach this place in his arms. As she felt the absence of his mouth on hers, she was almost afraid to look at him. If she saw a smile on his face at her expense, she was going to rip it off, as well as his heart. But he wasn't smiling. He looked as bereft as she felt. It helped. A little.

Swallowing, she gained a measure of control over her voice. "I wish you would stop doing that." She knew to the exact minute how long it had been since he had kissed her last. And there had been too many minutes in between. But he couldn't know that.

So they weren't through with lies yet. He touched the tiny gold hoop at her ear and watched as it swayed hypnotically. "No, you don't."

Why wouldn't he let her retain just a shred of her pride? Would he take everything from her? "Oh, and now you claim to read minds?"