Some Enchanted Waltz (28 page)

His simmering gaze never left hers as the pirate boots thudded to the floor, first one and then the other in a sobering boom. His hose went wafting across the room, one to drape over a statue, the other disappearing behind the dressing screen.

Tara sighed as he stood before her wearing only his black breeches, one hand on the buttons expectantly as he gazed down at her. His lips tugged upward in the ghost of a smile as one by one, his long fingers unfastened the buttons of his placket. He slid his hands over his hips inside the fabric and peeled his breeches slowly from his muscular thighs.  At last, his breeches and his small clothes joined her gown on the rug.

Tara averted her gaze automatically and then her eyes darted back, unable to resist seeing him in all of his glory. Oh, God, he was really quite elegant. She expected less of him, in length--true--but also in beauty. The long shaft with the flared tip saluted her with majestic raw male pride.

“You blush so prettily, my dear.” He chuckled, assuming she was intimidated by his masculine display.  “Don’t be afraid, I’ll be gentle--“

His words froze as Tara sat upright and grasped his engorged cock with one hand. “I’m not afraid. I tamed this serpent a long time ago, my lord.” Tara leaned forward to kiss him and then tease the underside of his head with a few light flicks of her tongue.

Adrian’s reaction was a groan of pleasure. He closed his eyes, delighting in her attentions. Tara didn’t recall ever doing this with a man before, and yet, seemed to possess the knowledge to know what would please him. She licked the long length of him, slowly moistening his velvet shaft with her tongue, and then took the tip of him into her mouth, suckling and nibbling with just the barest hint of teeth.

He liked that
. His breathing increased as his hands cradled the back of her head and his fingers tangled in her hair. Tara liked pleasuring him and hearing those hesitant little gasps as she charmed the rigid serpent with lips and tongue and teeth.

Suddenly, he pulled back, and pushed her down onto the bed. He straddled her, his bare thighs hugging her hips. “Enough, lass. Or I’ll be finished before we start.”

Tara was pleased by his reaction. Maybe she wasn’t a virgin after all. She’d been uncertain and worried about how he would perceive her if she was not one. Surely a man in any century wouldn’t fault his wife for being able to spice things up in the bedroom? Adrian didn’t seem upset, yet he did have an intense, determined look in his eyes as he unlaced her chemise to free her breasts for his pleasure.

“Brrr.” She murmured, as the cool air of the room met her nipples and hardened them into tight buds. “It’s cold in here.”  She cursed the lack of central heating yet again as she remembered that it was only early February, after all. Adrian hefted the coverlet from the edge of the bed, rolling her with him in one neat sweep, and then rolling her atop him with both of them wrapped in the heavy coverlet.

A stray copper curl brushed across his cheek. He captured the fiery tress and wound it about his forefinger with a lazy smile. The magnetic, steady gaze as he kissed the errant curl, the scintillating sensation of his bare chest pressed against her now bared skin was electrifying. His flesh was warm and firm beneath her.

He seemed content to hold her on top of him. Tara studied his handsome face and stroked his stubble roughened cheek. She wondered if he’d had too much to drink  again tonight and would soon be snoring in her bed instead of rocking it.

His hand captured hers, removing it from his cheek as slowly, very slowly, he drew the captured limb to his lips. The innocent gesture fanned the flames simmering within as his tongue drew intricate circles in the center of her palm. A tantalizing rush of desire filled her blood, raising gooseflesh on her nape as he slowly kissed each fingertip, one by one, making her melt with longing for him.

Tara withdrew her hand and leaned down to take his lips in a searching kiss that singed her senses and made her press herself against his stone monolith through the fabric of her petticoat. He arched beneath her, answering her primitive call.

A soft moan escaped her lips as his warm hand moved beneath her skirt to caress her thigh above her garter. His rigid thumb began drawing erotic circles on her inner thigh, just inches from her feminine flesh.

Yes, yes!
She wanted to shout as she longed for Adrian’s touch deep within.

“Easy, lass. We have all night.” He chuckled.

Tara opened her eyes to gaze at him with surprise. She didn’t think she’d spoken the words aloud. “Oops.” She muttered, slightly chagrined.

“Indeed.” He grinned up at her with roguish delight. “Let’s see if we can make our little bird sing some more, shall we?”

Oh, curses!
Those bold fingers knew just how to stoke the embers of wanton desire.  Tara was crouched over him, panting and indeed singing his praises as he harried her clit with exasperating persistence. When he abruptly withdrew his sensual caress, she gazed down at him with desperation. Her lover’s eyes were illuminated with silvery shards of desire as he lifted her petticoat above her waist and over her breasts. She extended her arms and shrugged out of the confining fabric, draping her naked form over him.

It was perfect, skin to skin, nothing between them.

 Adrian’s silvery eyes gleamed with wickedness as he moved and rolled beneath her and then suddenly Tara was lying beneath him. She wrapped her legs about his hips suggestively.  He boldly took her hint, entering her slick channel with a quick thrust.

“Oooh.” Tara gasped, a little shocked by the discomfort of his intrusion. It wasn’t that characteristic ‘sharp piercing’ a virgin would feel, but the tight feeling that told her she’d not been with a man for some time.

“Tara?”  Adrian’s face registered concern.

“Its fine--I’m fine.” She murmured, endeavoring to relax around his rock hard shaft.  Adrian wasn’t a small man, not by any stretch of the imagination. Quite the opposite, he was larger than life in so many ways, including his impressive manhood.

She smiled, excited at the sensual thought of his huge cock buried inside her. Instinctively, she hugged him tighter with her legs and pulled at his shoulders with her arms to invite him to plunge deeper. Adrian responded, pushing deeper inside her, making her gulp a little at the sheer feeling of being ‘pinned’ to the mattress beneath him.

It was a delicious, primal sensation; being overpowered by his masculine form as he lowered his body over hers, draping her with his weight and possessing her completely.

They danced and glided, kissing, melting into one another, melding hearts and bodies into one. Tara gave up to pure sensation, meeting his thrusts with her own, until the rising tension was too much to contain. She cried out her release, exalting in the exquisite pleasure as he wrung gasp after delighted gasp from her shuddering frame.

Adrian’s climax followed and the room echoed with his deep gasps.

He kissed her, slowly, deeply and then rolled off of her and curled himself against her as he lay on his side with his arm draped over her.

“Go to sleep, sweet forest nymph.” He whispered seductively against her ear.

“Tell me, do you really believe in fairies? I mean, seriously?”

“Aye, I do believe.  I’ve just been loved by one.”

Chapter Seventeen

Their early retreat from the dance the night before caused much speculation and comment. When Lord Lake discreetly confided in Lords White, Clare and Knox that Lord Dillon had spirited his tempting little missus to the study for a tryst and he himself had come upon them in a moment of passion, he begged them not to repeat the gossip.

Being men, they agreed it was best kept the tale to themselves, never suspecting the servants moving about them might have ears in their heads as well as tongues.

By the time Tara and her husband descended the stairs to leave Seafield House and return to Glengarra Castle, the story had been repeated by the first footman to the downstairs maid, who repeated it to the upstairs maid, who in turn shared it with Lady Clare’s chamber maid, who eagerly shared the latest gossip with her mistress, until the whole assemblage looked upon the pair with envy and admiration, believing the innocent kiss Lord Lake witnessed to be the sultry moment of passionate abandon it had been stretched out to be with each re-telling.

“Definitely has the look of a lad who has danced with the fairies.” Lord Knox murmured to Lord Clare as the pair stood in the gallery watching the newlyweds take their leave of Lord White and Seafield House. He was referring to the belief that fairy queens lured mortal men into their realm, where they were seduced and enslaved, never desiring to return again to their own people.

“Aye, can’t say if I pity or envy him.” Lord Clare remarked.  

The journey home was tedious, the twenty miles being punctuated by muddy, treacherous, rut laden roads that made the best of coaches seem as uncomfortable as a broken down hayrack. Tara was wrapped in furs, snuggled closed to her husband as they watched the barren countryside move slowly past their window. The stones at her feet lost their heat long before they arrived in Glengarriff, the sleepy little town below the Caha Mountains at the beginning of Dillon lands. Glengarra Castle would be close to another hour’s journey, provided Healy Pass was suitable. If not, they would need to take up residence at the local Inn until the Pass was negotiable.

Adrian had their coach stop at The Gull’s Nest Inn in Glengarriff, to enjoy a brief repast and give Tara a chance to warm herself by the fire while the coachmen rode ahead to see if the pass was clear.

Lady Fiona decided to stay with Lady Blakely in Cork for a few weeks. She  promised to return to the remote Glengarra estates when the weather was tolerable. Tara was looking forward to being alone with Adrian for a time.

As they made the last part of their journey through the pass and up the mountain, Tara shared her conversation with Lieutenant Saunders from the previous evening.

“Elmira has a beau, has she?” Adrian smirked, relishing Tara’s tale regarding Sheriff Burke’s daughter. “I fear she may find her father’s ambitions stronger than his desire for her happiness.”

“We could help them.”

“Much as I dislike Burke, I would wish Elmira well.”

“Why don’t we contrive a getaway? You and your men could arrange a distraction.”

“I’d sooner face a bear robbed of her cubs than Sheriff Burke with a vendetta against the man who stole his daughter.”

 “So.” Tara quipped.  “Captain Midnight fears the pompous Sheriff Burke? I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You sound like a wuss, not the notorious masked liberator the entire countryside is talking about.”

 “What is the meaning of this new insult you spew at me? Speak plainly, girl, I would know what you are accusing me of.”

“It’s hard to explain.” Tara turned the ring on her finger around beneath her glove. It was one thing to call him something insulting when he didn’t know what it meant, and quite another to face those calculating, stone cold eyes and enlighten him. 

“Explain, what is a wuss?”

“A wimp.”

“And what, pray tell, is a
wimp
?”

Oh, Crap.
Tara wrinkled up her nose. “Forget I said anything.”

“No.” The growl echoed in the small carriage cubicle. “Explain the term.”

“A wuss is a man who is afraid to defend himself or others. I just said it out of habit, without thinking. I didn’t mean to imply you are one.”

“You believe I am too cowardly to face danger?” His words were razor sharp. The dark eyes narrowed with accusation. “Think you Captain Midnight and the Fianna exist merely to further the romantic delusions of silly, love struck women?  I will not place my life or the lives of my men at risk for utter folly. Soldiers guard the roads at every turn, and the sentries have been doubled since that night I rescued you from the barn. Yet you would have me ride out to assist a pair of lovers in escaping a disapproving parent?” He turned his smoldering gaze to a fixed point out the window.  “That would be suicide.” 

“Oh crap.” Tara hissed as the tension mounted in the small carriage. “Is that what you think of me, Lord Dillon? Was I a fool to fall for man with no romantic delusions?”

Adrian didn’t answer.

As he continued to stare out the window, Tara decided he must be ignoring her. She gazed at the same blank, dreary forest passing by as he seemed to be captivated with.

A stinging pain rose in her throat, contracting about her heart with crushing force.

He didn’t love her. A good F-Buddy did not a true love make. Lord Dillon was using her; using their hasty marriage to protect himself from being blackmailed by a man who suspected him of being Captain Midnight. Tara conveniently fell into his lap and he used her, plain and simple. Yet, she couldn’t fault him too much. Was she not also using him? With no memory, no family and no income, she was forced to accept his peculiar brand of hospitality, so she could hardly accuse him of acting in self interest.

Okay, so they were using each other. But, she was starting to fall for him.

Damn it!
 That wasn’t true. She’d been in love with him from nearly the first day.