Princess (35 page)

Over and over she breathed her thanks to heaven, running her hands all over Darius to assure herself he was not an illusion. She clung to him.

He wound his arms around her waist, soothing her. She clung to him as he rocked her gently. “Shh, it’s all right now, angel. I’m here.”

She hugged him tighter with tears of sweet relief streaming down her face, too overcome with emotion to speak.

He had come back to her, just as he always had in the past. Battered but unbowed, he had fought his way back from the grave. He was alive . . .
and that could only mean that Napoleon
was dead
.

By God, he had done it.

He had put the tyrant of the age in his grave, and walked out of the lion’s den unscathed.

The great Santiago had performed the impossible.

Again.

“Oh, you blackheart!” Rearing back to stare fiercely into his midnight eyes, she shoved at his chest. Before she gave him any part of a hero’s welcome, she would bloody well give him a piece of her mind. “How could you
do
that to me?” she cried. “How could you lie to me all that time, then go out to get yourself killed? I thought you were
dead
. You have put me through hell. Pure hell!”

He just stared at her, looking lost, and gave a tiny shrug. “I’m sorry. I had to protect you.”

“You had to protect me,” she echoed. She threw up her hands. “How am I to stay angry at you when you give me an answer like that?”

“Don’t be angry. Please. Not tonight. I’ve just been to hell and back. I’ve been beaten up, shot at, rode a horse until it didn’t get up anymore, then I walked about sixty miles, and I swear it was all for you, Serafina.” He held her gaze from under his forelock. “You’re all that matters to me.”

“Oh, Darius.” She shook her head at him, petting his hair out of his eyes. “My beautiful madman, I am never letting you out of my sight again.” She pulled him tenderly into her embrace.

He slid his arms around her waist, laid his head on her shoulder, and pressed his face into the crook of her neck, leaning on her. She tightened her protective embrace and cupped his head against her shoulder.

“What will we do now, darling?” she whispered.

He shook his head. “I am utterly out of plans.”

“What of Tyurinov? I must know that much. My wedding is in . . .” She glanced over her shoulder and squinted against the dim illumination in the room at the mantel clock, then she turned back to him with a sniffle. “Nine hours.”

“No, it isn’t! You’re not marrying him, ever!” He pulled back with a scowl. “You were
never
going to marry him! You’re not a chess piece, Serafina, and I would never let you be used for one. I longed to tell you before to ease your worries, but I couldn’t risk it. If you had known what I intended— admit it—you would have done anything to stop me. You would have gone to your Papa to get your way, but it was your father’s overhasty agreement to the match that caused all of this. Anatole Tyurinov is more of a brute than you or your father yet realize, but tomorrow, I tell you, the truth will come out. Now, kiss me, damn it.”

She obeyed gladly. “I love you, you brilliant, fearless . . . lunatic,” she murmured, hugging him hard. “I owe you my life.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he said, then he snuggled against the crook of her neck and let out a soft, wistful sigh. “Just let me stay here.”

She kissed his hair. “You’re not going anywhere,” she whispered. “Lie down with me and rest. You are exhausted. I’ll call for food and drink—”

“All I want is you.”

His sweet, simple statement pierced right through her heart. She pulled back and took his face gently between both her hands. “Oh, my poor baby,” she said softly. “Look at you. What have they done to you? You’re a mess. You have a black eye. Your jaw is swollen.”

“Mm-hmm,” he murmured. He had begun kissing her neck, running his hands down her sides to hold her by the hips. “Kiss it for me?”

She did, cupping his face carefully. “I can’t believe you’re here. Oh, God, I wanted to die without you. Darius, say we will never be parted again. Say you won’t scare me again. . . .”

He dipped his head and wove a necklace of kisses for her from one ear all the way across her throat to the other. “I love you, Serafina. That’s the reason I went there. I have never loved another but you.”

Surely she was dreaming, but she never wanted to wake. She tilted her head back in ecstasy as her eyes brimmed. “I love you, too. So much.” Her hand slid down from his face to his chest. She began stroking the V of smooth, honey-gold skin where his shirt was torn.

His embrace tightened and her caress moved lower, savoring each taut ridge and plane of his flat, sculpted stomach. A tremor moved through him as she stroked him. She closed her eyes. She felt her skin heating under his caresses, her breathing deepening.

“God, I missed you,” he whispered as he slid his hand under her breast, cupping its weight. He lowered his head, gazing at the sight of her breast in his hand through her thin muslin night rail. His downcast stare was so pensive she kissed his forehead.

He lifted his head and stared straight into her eyes. Neither she nor he moved. Desire leaped between them like lightning in the silence. He murmured her name. Then he took her face between his hands, tilted his head slightly, and kissed her mouth.

He tilted his head the other way and kissed her again. She felt his need rise up from deep in the core of him in one massive wave. It was stronger than she had ever felt it before.

He began slowly easing her down onto her bed. He kissed her with exquisite gentleness as he laid her on her back and covered her with his hard, powerful body.

Resting on his elbows, he cradled her head in both hands and covered her face in soft, tender kisses, her eyelids, her brow, cheeks, and chin. He gave her a long, very sweet kiss, then lifted his head and stared down into her eyes, his beautiful lips moist and swollen with kissing.

She saw fire in his eyes, agonized need, and a question. In answer, she cupped her hand around the nape of his neck and pulled him down hungrily to her, opening her mouth wide for his kiss.

He moaned softly and took her mouth in hard, claiming possession. He rose up onto his hands over her, still kissing her. Slowly, he drove his body against hers. He swept his torn, gunpowder-stained shirt off over his head, muscles rippling all down his belly. She bit her lip as her gaze skipped down to the enormous bulge in the front of his breeches. He gave her a shadow of his arrogant half-smile as he cast the shirt away with a flick of his wrist.

Her heart tripped as he moved over her again. He bent to kiss her breast through her night rail. His breath was hot through the white muslin, his hair like silk, his bronzed skin like velvet under her caress.

He gathered her night rail in both his hands, pulling it higher up over her legs. Kissing her, he nipped at her lower lip, coaxing her mouth open wider still for his deepest kiss. She molded her hands over his muscular arms, caressing him, marveling at his sinewy power, but there was a little shivery thrill of fear mixed in with the admiration. She would never really tame this man.

No one would.

He moved back a small space and gently lifted her night rail off over her head. She was struck with an unprecedented bout of shyness. Lying naked before him, her hair fanned out over the pillow, she felt her face heat with a deep blush. Inexplicably, she wanted to cover herself with her hands. She didn’t know why—she had never been shy in front of him before. But this time was different, and they both knew it.

Darius paused and sat up, tilting his head as he gazed at her with a half-smile, tender warmth in his eyes. He ran his hand down her leg, his touch sure and smooth. “You’re ready for this,” he murmured in assurance.

“Yes, I think so. I know I love you. Yes,” she said again decisively.

“Relax.” He smiled softly, then leaned down and kissed her belly, holding her gaze. His long lashes swept closed and he kissed her hip, then each of her thighs.

The light kisses roused her blood to liquid fire. The night was warm but the air felt cool moving over her heating skin. He nuzzled his way lower down her belly.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Loving you, Princesa.”

Her eyes were wide, her heart racing, as she watched him bend his head and press a reverent kiss to her mound. His warm breath seeped down to meld with her surging wetness. He lingered there, not moving. She closed her eyes, waiting, enticed, a little bewildered.

He stroked her, a slow, light, two-fingered caress upward. She moaned.

The mattress shifted as he crept between her thighs and kissed her there once more. He kissed again, then again, more delicately. Then he explored her, touching her with his thumb. He roused breathless notes from her throat as skillfully as he played his guitar. Her embarrassment flared when he touched his tongue to her, but soon she was candy dissolving in his sulky, sculpted mouth, and she became his creature utterly, his mindless thrall. He licked deeply with his long, clever tongue, penetrating her, drinking her. She squirmed, bucked, writhed, but he held her hips still, forcing her to take the pleasure even when she knew her mind would break with it.

Abruptly, he crawled over her on all fours, his face wet as he took her mouth, ravishing her with his kiss. Caressing his shoulders, she could feel him shaking as he reached down and unfastened his breeches. Eagerly, she helped him slide them down his lean hips as he freed himself.

Ah, she had waited so long for this, she thought in hungry anguish, glancing up to find him looking into her eyes. She could see by his gaze that his thoughts were the same.

The tiny medal of the Virgin fell between her breasts as his hard chest eased down atop her, his flat belly to hers, the large, throbbing hardness of his potency sliding between her slicked folds of flesh. Her chest heaved against his with her deep, frenzied breathing and unbearable anticipation. Her body ached with a burning emptiness that only he could fill.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek near her mouth. “Never leave me, Serafina. Never leave me.” His voice was husky.

He held her in a stormy, aching gaze as he filled her slowly, inching ever so gently into her, merging them by love into one creature, born of love. He closed his eyes, pausing at the delicate barrier shielding her innocence. She swept her eyes open in tremulous wonder and saw silver tears under his lashes.

Her heart overflowing, she drew him down to kiss her. She felt him pulse inside of her. He gently pressed her lower back upward with one hand, lifting her very slightly. He brushed his cheek against hers, his body shaking.

“I will love you all my life,” he whispered, and then he thrust once, deeply.

She gasped, her eyes flying open wide. Her chin on his shoulder, she stared at the canopy above as she slowly absorbed the shock of the pain.

Darius was whispering heartfelt apologies and stroking her hair. He glanced down at her anxiously. His eyes widened when he saw the tears sliding down her face, falling to the pillow.

“Did I hurt you so much?” he asked in distress, starting at once to pull back.

“No, no.” She reached up and caressed his face with both hands. Amid the pain was joy, for she knew now the circle was complete. “Now I have marked
you
with
my
blood.”

He gave her a look of utter devotion and kissed her.

Slowly, his kisses and soft caresses gradually diffused the pain, and for his gentleness, her body opened like a flower. He waited for her unfolding, kissing her shoulders, caressing her face and hair. She ran her hands down his smooth, strong back and the sleek, hard curves of his backside, his lean hips. She could feel his taut control in every muscled inch of him as he enfolded her in his arms.

He quivered as she caressed his heated, gleaming skin. “I love your touch,” he breathed. “It heals me.” Eyes closed, he nestled his face against her hand as she caressed his cheek, then ran her fingers through his hair. “If I lost your love, I wouldn’t want to live.”

“You will never lose my love, Darius.”

He shuddered. “I always knew I could come to you when I was ready, and that you would love me,” he whispered. “The knowledge kept me alive.” He held her more tightly and began to move deeply, slowly, inside of her. “God, Serafina, I want to give myself to you completely.”

“Yes, Darius,” she breathed.

“I’m afraid.”

She stroked his back. “I will never hurt you.”

His fevered lips alighted on her brow, his voice a shaken whisper. “All I ever wanted was to be good enough for you.”

In answer, she took his angular face between both hands and kissed him, with her whole soul in it. “
You are
,
Darius
. You always were.”

A sound of anguish registered from him. “You won’t want me.”

“I’ll always want you. Give yourself to me, Darius,” she whispered. “I won’t hurt you. I love you.”

He pressed her hands to his skin, his chest and his sides, as if he could not get enough of her touch.

“I love you,” she said again, and again. He was trembling. She caressed him everywhere. “Give in to my love, Darius. Surrender. No more secrets. You are safe here. I will protect you and keep you and give you everything you need.”

When he looked down at her, his eyes blazed with fierce tears under his long, velvet lashes. She held his gaze, then closed her eyes and tilted her head back, yielding in perfect trust. She felt a single burning tear drop onto her throat, then he was kissing her throat and making love to her, taking from her what he so desperately craved.

The pleasure was laced with poignancy. She experienced the strangest sense of fullness, abundance. Perhaps it was the laudanum, but as he loved her, she felt as though she were a beautiful tree laden with fruit and it was her joy to know she fed this starved, thirsty man, nourished him, brought him delight. Then the strange sensation ebbed, and their union became an initiation by fire.

His gentleness frayed to reckless desperation. His body broke out in a sweat. This was no smooth Don Juan out to dazzle another conquest. This was a lost, lonely man reaching at last for what he most deeply needed. His greed for her astounded her, but she met him measure for measure, giving all she had for him. He rocked her and she moved with him as one, her legs wrapped around his thighs, her heels hooked behind his muscled calves. She clutched him to her, reveling in his penetration. She savored every sensation of his long, vigorous strokes. To give like this was ecstasy.