Summer Breeze (34 page)

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Authors: Catherine Anderson

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

BOOK: Summer Breeze
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Joseph sighed and took the jug. After taking a swallow, he passed it back to his brother. "There.

I've celebrated."

Only Joseph's brothers hadn't finished with him yet. Ace approached next, insisting that Joseph have a celebratory drink with him. Next came Esa, and then the rotation began all over again.

Several snorts later, Joseph had stopped arguing when the jug was passed to him, and Rachel thought he looked a mite too happy. He had doffed his suit jacket, the tie had vanished, and he'd unfastened the white dress shirt to midchest, revealing golden curls and a wealth of bronze skin rippling with muscle that made her want to call the party to a halt herself.

The next thing Rachel knew, a sawhorse table appeared in her courtyard and Caitlin was busy setting out food. Rachel suspected that someone had opened the gate when she wasn't watching, for the sawhorses

hadn't been there during the wedding ceremony and none of the dishes belonged to her. She could only assume that they'd been brought by the women from town, who couldn't have passed them in to Caitlin through the bars.

Before Rachel could obsess overlong about someone unlocking her gate, David started playing his fiddle and someone outside joined in with a guitar. Joseph grabbed Rachel around the waist and began swirling her across the garden.

"Joseph,
no"
she cried. "I don't know how." "Just move with me," he said. "Just let go and move with me."

Rachel looked up at his dark face, then into his sky blue eyes, and she loved him so much that she couldn't possibly refuse. So she let go, just as he'd asked, and danced with him.

Despite the chill in the air after the sun went down, the party went on until long after dark.

Lanterns were lighted, both inside the courtyard and out, those outside hung from tree limbs and wagon tailgates to illuminate the area. It had been so long since Rachel had needed a wrap that she couldn't recall where she'd stowed her cape. To keep her warm, Joseph draped a wool blanket around her shoulders. "I love you," he whispered. Rachel doubted she would ever tire of hearing him tell her that. "I love you, too."

He leaned down to kiss her, whispering against her lips, "They'll leave soon. I promise."

Rachel couldn't help but laugh. "I don't mind their staying. It's been a lovely party."

"And they're dragging it out just to torture me," he tacked on. "Brothers. You can't live with 'em, and you can't live without 'em."

"I saw that!" David yelled. "No more of that stuff until we leave."

Joseph laughed and straightened away to look at David. "We were just talking."

"Yeah, right."

When Joseph wandered away to speak with someone, Caitlin sidled up to Rachel, cleared her throat nervously, and said, "It suddenly occurred to me that your mother died when you were quite young."

"Yes." Rachel looked up through the bars at the sky, fancying that her parents were up there somewhere, drifting among the stars, looking down. "I had just turned seventeen."

"Oh,
dear."
Caitlin toyed with the buttons of her dress. "Would you mind stepping inside with me for a few minutes? I think we should have a little talk."

Joseph was chatting with Darby when he realized as he scanned the courtyard that his bride had vanished. He excused himself to go in search of her. When he stepped up onto the porch, he saw that the wooden door was closed. When he tried to open it, the thing wouldn't budge.

"Damn." He rapped his knuckles against the oak. "Rachel, you all right in there?"

Her faint reply was, "I'm fine. Caitlin and I are just having a little talk."

"About what?"

"Just things."

Just
things'?
Joseph wondered about that.

"What's wrong, little brother?"

Joseph turned a pensive frown on Ace, who stood on the top step behind him. "Rachel and your wife have barricaded themselves off in the kitchen. Rachel says they're having a little talk."

"About what?"

"Rachel said, 'Just
things,'
" Joseph replied.

"Uh-oh." Ace stepped up onto the porch. "Caitlin?" he called through the door. "Can I talk to you for a minute, sweetie?"

"Not right this moment," Caitlin called back. "Rachel and I are having a talk."

"Shit,"
Ace said.

"What?" Joseph asked.

"They're having a little
talk"
Ace echoed unnecessarily.

"I know that much. What the hell's so important that they've got to hide in the kitchen and talk about it right now?"

Ace sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Wedding night stuff, I'm guessing. And trust me when I say that Caitlin isn't the one to prepare your wife for her first bedding."

Joseph shot a worried look at the door. "She isn't?"

Ace leaned close so their noses were only inches apart. "Do you remember how long it took me to get that girl into bed?"

Joseph remembered Ace being as grumpy as a bear with a sore paw for weeks on end. After Ace got the problem settled, Joseph also remembered having to sit in the barn at crazy times.of the day, unable to enter

the house because the ropes of Ace's bed were creaking and the headboard was doing a double shuffle against the wall.

"I remember it being a tough time, but it all came right between you in the end."

"It came right between Caitlin and me, Joseph, but her first experience was a nightmare. She was
raped,
remember? Trust me when I say she isn't the person to tell Rachel what her first time is going to be like."

Joseph saw his point. He hooked a thumb at the door. "Well, get her out of there, then. Rachel's fine as things stand.
Eager,
in fact. I don't need Caitlin filling her head with horror stories."

"She won't. Caitlin has a kind heart. She's just liable to paint a pretty grim picture of how bad the virgin pain is."

Joseph pounded on the door again. To his brother, he said, "God damn it, Ace. She's your wife.

Get her away from mine before she causes all kinds of grief."

"How?"

"How what?" Joseph asked, impatience lending an edge to his question.

"How do you expect me to get her out of there?" Ace expounded.

"Tell her to come out. Just put your foot down for once. You wear the pants in the family."

Ace arched his eyebrows. "That isn't how it works. It's true that I wear the pants, but Caitlin wears the drawers. If I want in to them, I don't strut around like I'm the boss, issuing orders to her."

"Make an exception this one time. It's my wedding night."

Ace pounded on the door again. "Caitlin, sweetheart, Little Ace is crying and I can't make him stop."

Joseph rolled his eyes. "That is
so
weak. I can't believe it. My big, tough brother can't assert himself with a woman half his size."

They heard the bar lift. Ace smiled. "Worked, didn't it?"

The door opened and Caitlin appeared. When she saw her son happily romping with Buddy and Cleveland in the courtyard, she sent her husband a questioning look. "I thought you said he was crying."

"He suddenly stopped." Ace shrugged. "You know how little boys are, crying one minute, happy as bugs the next."

Rachel exited onto the porch after her sister-in-law. Joseph half expected her to give him an accusing glare, but instead she only smiled secretively and stepped close to hug his arm.

Joseph patted her hand. He felt the curve of her hip pressing against his and the soft warmth of her breast against his arm. The delicate scent of roses curled around him like tendrils of silk. God, how he wanted her. The need was so intense he ached.

He wished the public celebration would end soon so the private one could start.

Chapter Sixteen

When all their guests had left, Rachel and Joseph adjourned to the kitchen, leaving Buddy outside in the courtyard. Rachel was a whole lot more nervous than she had expected to be.

Caitlin, whose husband was wealthy, had given her a gorgeous gossamer negligee to wear tonight, one she'd ordered for herself but hadn't yet worn. It fell in voluminous folds to tease a man's eye.

Joseph strode slowly toward her. "What did Caitlin

talk to you about?"

Rachel released a shaky breath. "About how wonderful tonight will be."

He gave her a dubious look. "And nothing else?"

Rachel shrugged. "She warned me that it may hurt dreadfully for a moment."

His eyes darkened with concern. "Are you worried

about it?"

Rachel considered the question. "Not unduly. Caitlin assured me that after the first bit of pain, it's like dying and going to heaven if you're with the right

man." She reached up to press her fingertips to his jaw. "You are definitely the right man, Joseph.

I love you so much it pains me."

He dipped his head to kiss her palm. "And I love you so much that if this hurts you, it's going to half kill me."

"I know." And Rachel truly did. Joseph was nothing if not caring about her feelings. Indeed, she felt that he understood her better than anyone ever had. "And I can't imagine that it will be that bad. If it were, no one would ever go back for seconds."

A twinkle slipped into his eyes. "Do I hear an echo?"

Rachel recalled his warning to her after they'd shared their first kiss, that he wasn't the marrying kind, preferring instead to flit from woman to woman. She giggled. "Ah, yes, the buffet man.

Sadly for you, you're now tied down to one lady."

"And happy to be tied down. I never thought it'd happen, but now that it has, I'm looking forward to seconds"—he nibbled at the inside of her wrist—"and thirds"—he trailed kisses along the cuff of her sleeve—"and fourths, and fifths. I'll never tire of you."

All the folds of gossamer weren't concealing, after all. Horrified, Rachel couldn't lift her chin and stop gaping at herself. The gown was as transparent as glass. She could see her bosoms, her belly button, her nether regions, and even the freckle on her knee. What on
earth
had Caitlin been thinking? Rachel couldn't leave the water closet wearing this.

"Is everything all right in there?"

Rachel almost jumped out of her skin. The door still wasn't fixed, and propping it up over the opening left cracks, which she'd taken to covering with linen towels. It sounded as if Joseph was standing right outside.

"Caitlin bought me a special negligee for tonight," she confessed, "and I thought it was lovely until I put it on."

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's just—" Rachel couldn't think how to describe it. "It
isn't."

"It isn't what?"

"It just
isn 't.
Imagine if I stood naked behind glass, and there you have it."

"Hmm."

"I can't wear this, Joseph. It'd be
too
embarrass-ing.

"Then don't."

"I didn't bring another gown in with me."

She heard his boots thumping. Then came the scrape of a drawer opening. A moment later, he pushed a white Mother Hubbard through to her. Rachel hugged it gratefully to her breasts.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, darlin'. And no matter about the nightgown. I don't care what you wear."

Rachel sighed dreamily. To please him, perhaps she could wear the negligee, after all.

Joseph had resumed his seat at the table and, as was his habit, had rocked back on the chair to straighten his legs and cross his ankles. He had just finished stretching and folded his arms behind his head to flex and roll

his shoulders when Rachel finally emerged from the water closet.

She wore nothing but a see-through shimmer of soft stuff that made her completely nude body look as if kissed with morning dew. His startled gaze dropped to her beautiful, rose-tipped breasts and then trailed in stunned amazement to the dark gold thatch of curls at the apex of her shapely thighs. His breath whooshed from his chest like air from a bellows, his entire body snapped taut, and somehow the teetering chair got away from him.

Just like that, over he went, hitting the floor so hard that it rattled his brains. "Joseph?"

A vision of gossamer scurried across the room to stand over him.

"Oh, lands, are you all right?" Joseph gaped at the pretty little breasts dangling and bouncing above his nose as she leaned over to look down at him.

"Sweet Christ," he said stupidly. Hands aflutter, she knelt beside him. "Did you hit your head?

Are you injured?"

Joseph couldn't rightly say if he was injured. He only knew one part of him was in fine working order. He rolled toward her to get free of the chair, hooked an arm around her neck to pull her to the floor, and straddled her hips as he came to his knees. "My God, you're beautiful. You are so damned beautiful."

Her cheeks went pink as he slid his gaze over her breasts. "This isn't fair. You're fully clothed. I want to see you, too."

That was a request Joseph could deliver on. Buttons went flying as he jerked off his shirt, the tiny mother-of-pearl disks going
tick-tick-tick
as they struck the floor. He tossed aside the shirt and braced his arms to lean over her. His whole body jerked when she trailed her slender fingers over his chest.

"Oh, Joseph, you're pretty, too."

Pretty wasn't a word he would have chosen to describe himself, but coming from her, it would do.

With the first kiss, Rachel forgot all about feeling shy.
Silken caresses of lips and tongues.
Being in Joseph's arms eclipsed all her worries, allowing her to focus only on the sensations that his mouth, hands, and hard body evoked within her. He was lantern light and shadows, his sculpted torso gleaming in the amber illumination like burnished oak.

At some point, he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bed, where he proceeded to make love to her just as he did all else: straightforwardly, thoroughly, and masterfully. She wasn't sure when he peeled her negligee away, only that he replaced the tease of netting with his hands and mouth, touching and kissing her in places she'd never dreamed he might, until her body quivered with delight and throbbed with need.

When he trailed his lips down her torso and settled his hot mouth over her secret place, she was too far over the edge to feel embarrassed, and soon his clever ministrations obliterated every rational thought in her mind. With every sweep of his tongue, her body jerked and quivered, a hot, electrical, urgent ache building

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