To Tame a Rogue (24 page)

Camille’s eyes locked with his in alarm.

Nicholas turned serious. “The man killed men and women alike, took glee in torturing, beating, and maiming them. You will not feel one ounce of guilt, Camille.”

”If only it were that easy, Nicholas. But you can’t tell me what to feel. Or,” she lowered her eyes, "what not to feel."

She looked up at him shyly. His eyes continued to burn into her
s
, seeming to reach into her womb.

“Do you feel something … for me?” he asked.

There was a knock on the door before Camille could answer. Genny waltzed in followed by Kipp, Josephine, and Henree.

“She’s awake!” Genny said. Nicholas stood and stretched. “Don’t stay long,” he said, “she needs her rest.” He looked into her eyes and left.

 
There was much chatter and fuss over Camille. She was thanking Henree for saving her life when she started to drift to sleep. Henree was looking at Josephine; there was no mistaking the intensity in his eyes. It made Camille smile.

“Hard men only loiter on the edge of boxing,” Henree said. “Boxing takes skill. Huge gulf between a man trained in the ring and a street thug like Meletios. Never mind his size.”

By now Camille recognized her grandmother’s subtle expressions. Josephine looked like she was trying admirably not to roll her eyes at Henree while shooing everyone from the room.

57

 
The breeze from the bayou fluttered the curtains and made the candles flicker softly beneath their glass cylinders. The moon outside Camille’s window was full, pale moonlight floating along the water in silver tongues. Camille could hear the faint trickle of a fountain from the gardens below and mockingbirds as they sang their fluid melodies.

Magnolias, roses, and jasmine spilled their fragrances on the night air. She was in the bedroom adjoining Nicholas’ room, no longer in his bed. Had she ever been? Or only dreamed it?

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Nicholas and Henree had managed to find her and bring her back from Meletios horrible hideout. Days? Weeks?

She hadn’t seen Nicholas much since he’d brought her…
home
. She’d started to think of it as home. Perhaps she shouldn’t.

Had he really said, “You’re home?” Or had she only dreamed that as well?

She lay in the four-poster mahogany bed. A vase of fresh flowers sat next to the majolica pitcher on the washstand. Had Nicholas brought them?

Her
body, her bruises, were nearly healed now. But her stomach clenched at a new thought. Maybe Nicholas was avoiding her because now that she was healed…there was really no reason for her to stay, was there?

Then why had he come for her in the first place? Because she’d saved his life once? Did he
merely
feel guilty? She was confused and whenever she thought about him, which was all the time now, her heart ached. She stood, crossed to the window, gently pushed the curtain aside. The breeze felt cool on her face. She was perspiring lightly beneath her nightgown.

She frowned, thinking that soon enough it’d be winter, with its hunting parties and suppers and family visits and trips to town, Christmas and New Year’s. And where would she be? At Josephine’s? Christmas at the plantation must be wonderful. She could imagine the great house, its white columns blue in the moonlight, the merry dancers inside, twirling and laughing. Ivy hung in wreaths on the white columns, soft lamplight streaming through an open door and firelight flickering on the window panes. How good it would be to feel she’d finally come home to a familiar place. Stockings passed out, laughter, the delight of Arabelle and Damaris when they opened their gifts.

Camille wiped a tear from her cheek, thinking it wouldn’t do to have such fantasies. Would Lavinia be installed here as Nicholas’ mistress?

She bunched her fists in the folds of her nightdress. Lavinia didn’t care about the girls. She didn’t care about Nicholas. From far off came the chattering of a screech owl. Camille paced, thinking of Nicholas’ dark hair, the laugh lines around his hazel eyes and his mouth. She wanted to trace those lines leisurely with her fingers. She grew warm between her legs and her nipples hardened against the fabric of her nightgown.

She was like a woman in a dream. She held her hand up in the pale moonlight, the simple ring he’d given her still on her finger. Surprisingly, Meletios hadn’t stolen it.

She didn’t want to be a woman in a dream. She wanted to be
real
. She wanted to matter to Nicholas. Feel his hot breath on her neck, her lips, hear his whispered words and sensual groans in her ear.

She curled up in a chair by the window to wait, listening for the sound of his strident footfalls on the polished wood floors. She decided she was going to fight. She’d never purposely seduced a man before. The thought both frightened and intoxicated her. Could Nicholas ever think of her as more than a tavern waif? As someone who’d been forced on him by the selfish motives of others?

58

“You want to
what
?” Nick said.

“You heard me,” Kipp replied.

Nick was speechless and that didn’t happen often.

He poured himself and Kipp glasses of cherry brandy, handed Kipp one, and sat down behind the massive oak desk in his study.

He raked a hand through his dark hair. A hundred images of Genny and himself as children ran through his mind. Scouring the swamps for wild grapes, riding their ponies through the brush, laughing and swimming in the river. They’d even, once or twice, smoked corn-silk cigarettes behind the stables.

“She’s not like other women,” Nick said. “She’s special and ….”

“I know. That’s why I love her.”

Nick almost spit his brandy out.

“Why so surprised I’m in love, chap? She’s a beautiful, kind, engaging woman. And I want to make her my wife more than anything in the world.”

“And you want my permission to ask her to marry you.”

Kipp’s sandy eyebrows danced. “Cheerio, lad. I’d
prefer
to have your permission but ….”

“You’re going to ask her anyway.”

“Straight away, mate. Before someone else does.”

Nick shook his head and smiled. “Well then, permission granted. But you’d better be good to her.”

"No doubt about that, chap. For the rest of my life it will be my mission," Kipp beamed.

Nick stood and walked around the desk. "I’d be honored to have you as a brother-in-law.” He embraced his good friend and gave him a slap on the back. They raised their glasses, clinked them together.

“What if she says no?” Nick mused. "She's turned away every suitor that's asked so far."

“I'm not every suitor, now am I? I think she actually likes
me
.” He winked and left soon after.

Nick sat down again, drained his glass. His heart ached in happiness for Kipp and Genny. He stared out a tall window aware of another tender ache in his heart. Fireflies shimmered and blinked in the topmost branches of the trees. The stars were so bright they almost seemed blue.

He thought of the blonde-haired waif upstairs. He’d been avoiding her, afraid to go to her. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he’d behaved so horribly to her.

He felt himself go hard beneath his breeches as he thought of her soft skin, sensuous lips, the way her eyes revealed all of her emotions. No woman
 
he’d ever been with had looked at him like that. Plenty of women desired him,
 
yes. But this was desire and something else. Everything she felt, whether she knew it or not, was naked in her eyes.
He was afraid of how much he wanted her.

He groaned softly in frustration as he recalled what if felt like to part her slender thighs, to be between them, inside her, thrusting deeply until there was nothing separating them, her soft lips whispering his name, the world disappearing with each heated breath.

He was painfully aware of how stiff and full his erection was.

If only he could show her what it could be like between them. So different from that first time in the rose-covered gazebo. When he’d come too quickly. When he’d realized too late she’d been a virgin.

But it was too soon. With all she’d been through ….

He startled himself with the realization that
he wanted her to come to him.

59
 

 
Josephine came awake to the sound of strange scratching noises outside her window. “Oh stuff and bother.”

She gathered her robe about her pajamas, white silk with blue satin stripes, and ventured outside to the small, second-floor balcony.

Dome-like trees shrouded in trailing green-silver moss spanned out thickly; the river beyond murmured sleepily. It was a cool, pleasant evening.

She’d been staying at the Branton plantation since they’d rescued Camille, brought her back from that odious man. Josephine was glad Nicholas had invited her to stay. She would’ve refused to leave her granddaughter at any rate. She was a stubborn woman and knew it.

She started as Henree landed with a thud next to her. He’d actually climbed a trellis from his room below and crawled over the railings to her balcony. That would explain the scratching sounds.

It caused her no small amount of consternation that he’d been invited to stay on as a guest too, and in the room below hers. She hadn't been sleeping well at all.

“Are you crazy, Henree? You could've used the door.”

He wore men’s pajamas, red. They were kind of silly looking at that. Still, Josephine tried hard not to think about the firmly muscled arms, chest and legs beneath them.

“Crazy only for you, Madame. And this was more fun than using the door.”

Josephine sucked in a breath and felt tears brim.

She looked out across the rolling gardens. A breeze ruffled her thick silver-gray hair, which hung in a single braid over her shoulder.

“Henree, you helped to save my granddaughter’s life,” she said quietly. “For that I will always be grateful. She’s all I have left. But ….”

“But what Josephine?”

“But … you
left
me when I needed you most.” She clenched her fists at her side, not knowing what to do with them.

He stepped closer, raised his fingers to her hair, caressed the braid, then pressed his lips to her neck.

“Mmmmm,” she groaned softly before jerking herself away.

Henree grunted in frustration. “Josephine, you are the most obstinate woman!”

She liked the sound of her name on his lips. Most of their lives their relationship had been so…formal.

“I left you because I wanted to come back to you as a
man
. Not as your butler. Not as your goddamn servant.”

“Henree!” Josephine looked into his blue eyes. “I don’t understand Henree … you ….”

He lifted his hand to her cheek and softly caressed it with his rough knuckles.

“To love someone from afar … why didn’t you go to her then? Why did you stay with boring old me all those years?” Josephine whispered.

“Woman, I know you aren’t a dolt but you
aren’t
listening to me!”
 
He grabbed her and easily hoisted her over his shoulder. Josephine beat her fists against his wide back but it was a feeble protest.

“
You’re
the woman I’ve been in love with all these years Josephine! Only you.”

She laughed and her heart filled with an incredible joy. He carried her to her bed and set her down gently. “I’ve waited a long time for you and I’m not sleeping alone tonight,” he growled.

“Oh Henree,” she sighed. “I’m an old woman now.”

“You’re a beautiful, desirable woman,” he said, his lips sliding down her neck….

60

Camille murmured softly into a sturdy chest. Strong arms lifted her from the chair she’d fallen asleep in. “Nicholas?” she said sleepily.

She felt herself being lowered into her bed. “No,” she said. Camille felt his body tense.

“Take me to your bed,” she said.

“Are you certain?” he asked, his voice gruff.

Her arms went around his neck. She inhaled his masculine scent. “Yes.”