The Wicked North (Hearts Touched By Fire Book 1) (9 page)

His smile deepened. He released her and turned, offering his arm to escort her into the room. “But of course.”

She returned his smile and lightly placed her hand on his sleeve. It was going to be an interesting night.

#

Jack sat back after his failure at charades. Of course, his third glass of brandy probably hadn’t helped. More important was his sense of peace, something he hadn’t enjoyed in the last four years in the Army. He truly felt the Silvers were more like his family than his own was. The drink relaxed him further as the lively group before him laughed while continuing the game.

However, his substitute family presented somewhat of a problem—specifically, Caroline and Emma. He admired them both. Well, perhaps that wasn’t the right term. He liked them both. Caroline was the belle of the ball among Southern ladies, all frills and lace, batting her eyelashes at him and every other man there.

“Ooops!” Caroline squeaked, landing in a heap on the floor after trying to act out her charade. The room erupted with laughter. Her father helped her up.

“I think you failed, my dear,” John Henry told her softly.

The door to the room opened, catching everyone’s attention.

“Mathias, what is it?” His owner demanded.

The man stood, wide eyed, holding a folded scrap of paper in his hand. “A message, massa, from Massa Lawrence, sur.”

John Henry yanked the paper away from the boy and opened it. The room was so quiet, a pin drop would have been loud. The elder Silvers inhaled, closing his eyes. When he opened them, they sparkled and a grin spread across his face.

“Virginia’s done it. We’ve joined the Confederacy!”

The crowd burst into shouts of joy and began hugging each other. Jack stood still, his heart thudding wildly. Everything in his life had suddenly changed again. Charles jumped with excitement. Even Billy Lawrence got a slap on the back in congratulations for living in such a free-thinking state. Jack pasted a smile on his face. His leave would end and he’d have to report for duty.

Across the room, he saw Emma in Billy’s arms as he swung her around the room. He didn’t like it, not one bit. Why couldn’t that man go after Caroline? The thought brought him up short. Billy had released Emma, and she stood, laughing, but it didn’t reach her brown eyes. Her gaze found his. His heart skipped a beat. She was so pretty, always had been from the moment he first met her. Tonight, at this very second, she looked beautiful. Her rich brown hair, a dark sable, was falling from its pins because of Billy spinning her. Her buttercup gown glowed like honey, dripping in cream lace. Taller than her petite sister, she was stunning. Her breasts rose with every breath, appearing to almost spill out of her bodice. Her ivory skin was flushed with color. And those plump ruby lips. She licked them and his body tightened.

He wanted her. That kiss years ago continued to haunt him. Would she grant him another, before he left to betray their home, the South? His hands clenched. He should leave now, before succumbing to the temptation she represented.

#

“Huzzah!”

The word buzzed in Emma’s ears. She tried to regain her balance after Billy’s wild spin. This meant the War would affect her personally. All she had to do was look at each male face in the room and know she was doomed to lose her family and friends over a cause she didn’t understand or want to.

Caroline succumbed to the enthusiasm of the moment, even hugging her sister. But Emma wasn’t happy at all. Charles and Billy were already spouting about killing some Yankees. She turned and caught Jack watching her. He had such a strange look on his face. As though he could read her mind—he knew war meant tragedy and that it wasn’t something to be celebrated. The intensity of his stare burned into her. Would he depart without giving Emma another kiss to remember him by? Would she allow it? When he finished his drink and left the room, she went out another door.

She heard his boots stomping down the hallway, toward the back of the house.

“Jack!”

He didn’t stop.

“Jack, wait!”

He was too far ahead of her, and now, she couldn’t see him or hear his boots. She stopped, stifling a sob in her throat with her fist. He was gone.

She wanted to sink to the floor. But an arm circled her waist, pulling her into the dark drawing room. A gasp escaped her as she heard a sultry “shhh” in her ear.

“Jack?” she whispered.

He spun her around and brought her closer. “My sweet Emma,” his voice gravelly as he caressed her cheek with his knuckles.

Her heart pounded wildly. Heat radiated from him to her. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, his stomach against her stays.

“Kiss me, Emma,” he whispered as he tilted his head, his lips brushing hers, teasing her.

He was too tempting to resist. Her mouth met his as she raised her arms, encircling his neck. He growled as his tongue played against her lips, seeking entrance. When she parted them, he invaded her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers. It was a passionate assault, and she met it just as forcefully.

His hand cradled the back of her head, and the other held her waist in his embrace. She tasted the brandy on his tongue, inhaled the sandalwood, spice and musky smell of him. Her fingers threaded through his hair, feeling the softness of those dark locks.

There was a thud as her back hit the wall. She could barely breathe but wouldn’t let go of him. He broke the kiss, murmuring her name as he nibbled down her neck. He pressed into her, smashing her crinoline to the wall, flattening it. Through her petticoats and silk skirt, she felt the hardness of him against her lower abdomen. It excited and scared her, but she didn’t utter a sound except to gasp as he kissed her neck and moved back up to her mouth.

“Emma,” he said, pulling his head back, staring into her eyes. All she saw was the black depth of his. “Emma, you know this means war…”

“Yes.”

“You know I have to go.”

“No, please,” she begged. She didn’t care if she sounded pathetic.

A sad smile played at his lips. “You know I do.”

She fought the tears that threatened to form. “Kiss me, Jack. Kiss me. I’ve always wanted you to kiss me again.”

He groaned and recaptured her mouth. She played with his hair and around his neck, digging in under his collar to the bare flesh. She felt the vibration of his growl in her mouth.

He slid his hand up along her bodice and across her breast. His fingertips traced the lace fiche and dipped below it, skimming her skin. He looked into her eyes as his finger scraped her nipple. She felt it tingle and harden. He kissed her neck as he freed her breast and bent his head, taking the rosy nub into his mouth, suckling lightly. Desire uncoiled fast and hard inside her. She shifted her hips slightly and felt a dampness between her thighs.

He released the nipple and pulled her other breast free of the bodice, suckling on it as he squeezed the other. The pressure inside her was building. She groaned, perhaps too loudly because his mouth covered hers again. His hand fell to her waist, leaving her breasts exposed, the hardened nubs rubbing against his silk waistcoat, abraiding them.

“Oh, Emma,” he moaned. “I want you.” He cupped her rear, lifting her against him so she could feel his desire. His hardened member pushed against the spot between her legs, and she felt her petticoat stick to her wetness.

“Jack, please,” she begged before she knew what she was doing. She was on fire and needed him to put it out. Her skirts crushed under his grasp as he pulled them up and his hand went under them, skimming her thighs. With his other arm around Emma and her back to the wall, her hips flattened, causing her legs to spread apart. Her body was begging for some kind of release she didn’t recognize, but she instinctively knew Jack could provide it.

With the palm of his hand, Jack reached between Emma’s thighs and cupped her mound through the slit in her pantalets. She gasped. He stilled, breathing against her neck.

“Oh, God, Emma,” he muttered as he moved his fingers across her wetness.

Her mind reeled at first, but she moved her hips as her body dictated. She could hear the slick sound of wet flesh. Then his finger entered her, and she wanted to scream in ecstasy.

#

Every nerve of Jack’s pushed him further although he knew he should stop. She was a virgin, for the love of all that was holy! But he couldn’t stop himself. His shaft was so hard it throbbed with the need to be buried inside her. Her body had responded to his at every turn. He so longed to taste the nectar coating his fingers.

He pulled back abruptly, removing his hand from beneath her skirts. She was breathing hard. So was he. Fearing it might repulse her, he slowly licked her juices off his fingers.

They were alone. She was ready for him. Nothing was stopping him from taking her but himself. He closed his eyes, tried to steady his breath. When he opened them, he drank in her disheveled beauty and smiled.

He gently recovered her breasts, his breath hitching. “Emma, you know I love you. I want you.”

She let out a breath. “I want you, too.”

“I can’t take you here, not like this. You deserve to have the vows spoken first,” he said, looking into her eyes. “I’ll speak to your father before I leave.”

Emma smiled shakily. “If you leave now, he’ll think you’re no better than a damn Yankee.”

Jack’s face turned stony. “Emma, that is what I am.”

Her expression crumpled before she said, “Then it’s best I go.”

She didn’t denounce him, but she didn’t say yes, either. He wouldn’t push her. Not here, not now.

#

Caroline drank another glass of wine, squealing “Long live Virginia!” till she was almost hoarse. Looking for another bottle but finding none, she decided her sister, the maudlin “mistress of the house,” needed to rectify that. But Caroline discovered Emma was gone, as was Jack. The realization quickly sobered her, as a chill went down her spine.

She suddenly remembered that game of forfeit years ago and the kiss those two had shared. It had lasted too long for a parlor game and was too unseemly for public display. She had absolutely no doubt Emma had forced herself on Jack, and he, being a good Southern gentleman, didn’t say anything about it.

And now that they were missing from the soiree, Caroline became angrier with each step she took. It made her skin crawl to think her sister was off having a dalliance with her intended. Caroline quietly walked down the hall, listening at every door for sounds from them. She wanted to scream. But then the click of a door unlatching stopped her. It was just ahead. The hallway was dark. She quickly found a nook in which to hide. Tucking herself into it, she watched as Jack stepped through the doorway, looked up and down the corridor and motioned behind him. Caroline’s hand flew to her mouth as she saw Emma slip her hand into Jack’s. He bent and kissed her lips, muttered something that Caroline couldn’t hear and released her hand. Her sister went in the opposite direction down the hall.

Jack turned in Caroline’s direction, and she watched as he straightened his waistcoat and jacket, stifling her outrage over the implications of why he’d need to do that. Her mind raced as her anger flared. How dare that woman believe she could have him? Emma, sweet and demure Emma, who Caroline had feared her parents favored. She’d often seen her mother instruct Emma in how to be the mistress of the house, bypassing Caroline completely. And her father? He was always protecting darling little Emma. Well, that girl obviously didn’t need any protecting after disappearing into a room with a man and spending far too long alone with him.

Caroline composed herself, focusing on one thing—giving Emma another lesson. Obviously, she was too stupid to see that Caroline was determined to get what she wanted and deserved. Emma could have only what she didn’t want. Like responsibility for running the house. The perfect little job for Miss Obedient! As for Billy, well, she’d let Emma have him later...

Where Jack was concerned, Caroline thought she had taken care of everything when he first asked her and Emma to write him at school. She burned the letters Emma wrote to him, of course, and kept those from Jack to Emma. She was prevented from intervening the second time, after Jack had asked them to write again, and that angered her. But what she had just witnessed made her resolve to keep Emma from Jack once and for all.

Jack’s footsteps approached, and she had to act. Steeling herself, Caroline inhaled and pasted a dazzling smile on her face. Stepping out from where she had concealed herself, she ran right into him. She slipped on purpose so he would have to catch her.

“Caroline?”

“Oh, Jack,” she sighed sweetly. “You scared me.”

He stood her upright and frowned. “What are you doing away from the party?”

She gazed up at him, feigning innocence. “I was looking for Emma. We’re out of wine.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, I don’t think you’ll find her here in the dark.” He turned her back toward the front parlor.

“Perhaps, though I found you here, and I saw her walking the other way.”

He stopped. “Are you trying to tell me something?”