To Heal a Heart

by Anthea Lawson

  When the seamstress finally left she took the cream and rose gown with her, along with admonishments from Mrs. Trentham to transform it to the pinnacle of the current mode.

  Caroline let out a breath and set the brush down. Her only regret was that her family would not be able to attend the wedding, as it was being held in such haste. But this way she could remain at Raven Hall until the adoption was withdrawn, and she would not bring scandal home with her to London. She could not deny that she was ready—more than ready—to have Alex as her husband.

  A feeling of rightness accompanied their decision. It was right she and Alex marry—a completeness that lived in her very soul, that moved through her with each breath.

  A quiet rap on the door. Her heart gave a thump of anticipation as she rose to open it.

  “Alex.” She lifted her gaze to his.

  He stepped inside and took her in his arms. The silk of her dressing gown hushed beneath his hands, his touch heating the fine material. For a taut moment they simply stood, sipping one another’s breath, gazes locked. Then he lowered his mouth to hers.

  Pure fire raced through her. She clutched his shoulders, felt him deepen the kiss, holding nothing back. Their bodies pressed together, her dressing gown slipping against his linen shirt, so tantalizingly near to nakedness.

  He pulled her even closer, one hand sliding through her hair, the other at the curve of her back. Heat between her legs, the hardness of him against her there, concealed beneath his trousers. Their mouths open and yearning, tongues melding together the way their bodies would soon be, twining and stroking. So intimate. So perfect.

  In a sudden move he gathered her up into his arms.

  She laughed and wound her arms around his neck. “Carrying me again, Mr. Trentham?”

  He looked down at her, eyes alight with desire. “You are a truly beautiful woman, Caroline Huntington. In every way.”

  He moved with her to the bed, only the faintest limp in his stride. She did not think he would ever completely lose the trace of what had happened, and that was as it should be. There would always be that echo of great sorrow stirring in the depths, part of what made him who he was.

  He laid her down, then stretched beside her on the bed. Tension thrummed in the space between their bodies, his hand resting on her hip, fingers tracing patterns that burned through the silk. She parted her lips, watched his gaze fasten there.

  “My love.” She opened her arms to him.

  A heartbeat later they were pressed tightly together, his hand closing over her hip and pulling her hard against him, her arms around his neck, their legs tangled. Their mouths grazed, meeting in a kiss of passion and prayer.

  All the weariness, all the worry fell away, erased like tracks on the beach, the wave of their desire rising, sweeping everything away until the only moment was now. Now, the parting of lips, the sweet taste of his open mouth over hers. Now, the urgent caress of his hand slipping down the curves of her body, heat coursing through her from his touch. Now, her palms sliding around his shoulders, her heart an urgent beat of life.

  His hands played in her hair, combing out the long strands. Her hands on his buttons, slipping each one free, tugging his shirt open. Their mouths fused, the pulse moving through them, waves of a silent sea. Ah, how she wanted him. Whole and safe and unhaunted. Alex. Here in her arms. It seemed a miracle.

  He wrapped both arms around her and rolled, pulling her on top of him. The curtain of her hair fell about their faces and she laughed, pushing it out of the way.

  He pressed gently on her shoulders, coaxing her upright until she was straddling him. “Caroline. I want to see you like this. Fully see you—all of you—in the firelight, in the lamplight. We’ve been too long in shadows.”

  It was true—the times they had been together were full of mystery and darkness. Stolen moments. Even at the inn, the light of their single candle had obscured more than it had revealed. But here was a wealth of brightness, steady flames all about them casting a wide, golden light over everything.

  She shook her hair back and sat up straight and brazen over him. Her legs were spread on either side of his, her softness pressing him just there. It made her feel powerful and beautiful, to rise above him and know he was as lost to desire as she.

  “All of you,” he said again, his hands sliding up her sides, then curving around her breasts. “And though I admire this dressing gown, I admire what’s beneath even more.”

  He caught one end of the wide ribbon sash and pulled. The gown parted, falling open at the center. The look in his eyes was intent as he slowly pushed back the silk, exposing her, her nipples standing rosy and erect under his approving gaze.

  His hands covered her then, and she tilted her head back, sighing as he stroked her. He raised his hands, sweeping the lightest touches across her breasts, as if she were under a teasing breeze. Then he took her nipples between his fingers and squeezed, gentle but insistent, sending a shock of pure heat between her legs. A moan of pleasure escaped her.

  For another torturous, sweet minute he played with her, coaxing spirals of sensation through her. She arched under his touch, encouraging, wordlessly begging for more.

  “Yes,” he said. He pulled the gown down off her shoulders in one smooth motion, her arms slipping free of the lace sleeves, leaving her bared above him. Eyes never leaving hers, he moved his hands along her legs, tracing her naked thighs beneath the tumbled skirt, his caresses sending delicate shivers over her skin. “Lean forward over me.”

  She did, and he lifted his head to fasten his lips about one nipple.

  “Ahh.” The pleasure was incredible after his fondling hands—the contrast of his hot mouth, his tongue moving over the sensitized peaks. She felt as though she were melting into a pool of golden light. His mouth moved to her other breast, and then, in one smooth move, he turned their bodies until she was under him, lips hungry on her skin as he knelt above her.

  She kicked the dressing gown off. Naked now except for the fine silk of her drawers, but not bare—not with the sweet brightness covering her body, not with the honey of desire wrapping her round.

  “You,” she murmured, pushing the shirt off his shoulders. Dear heavens, he was beautiful, all male and muscled, disheveled hair black as a raven’s wing. She let her hands rove over him, smoothing up his strong arms, tracing the firm planes of his chest, the contours of his ribs.

  When her fingers went to the fastening of his trousers he gently pushed them aside. “All of you—first.”

  His smile was wicked as he slid down to trail kisses over her chest, her stomach. At the top of her drawers he paused, then licked, a line of sweet fire where her skin met the silk. She thought he would pull them off, but instead he moved even lower, his mouth brushing over the cloth, then veering to her thigh.

  Another tease of his tongue, this time pushing the silk up with his mouth. His legs on either side of hers, holding her closed. She was pulsing with desire, with anticipation, all her senses focused there, where he played between her legs. A nibble along her other thigh.

  And then, at last, his open mouth above the source of her pleasure. She could feel his breath through the thin silk. Slowly, so slowly that she could barely breathe from it, he lowered his mouth.

  Pure fire, even through the barrier of her drawers, his tongue lapping her, sending waves surging through her, sparkling and insistent. The wet silk clung to her as he licked and her every breath released on a sigh.

  “All of you.” It was a whisper. He stripped her drawers off, then spread her legs, hands pressing her wide. “All of you.”

  He bent to taste her again, and the wave rose as his lips moved over her, his tongue touching that one, searing point of pleasure, coaxing the pleasure to wind tight. Tight. Tighter. She was open to his mouth, at his mercy as he steered her, unerring, right into the peak of blinding bliss.

  It was a crashing glory, a tide pulsing, pulsing, pulsing. Finally receding.

  She opened her eyes to see Alex w
atching her, pleasure and desire clear in his expression.

  “Beautiful.” He swept his hands over her. “My golden goddess.”

  “And you are my midnight god. Show yourself to me.” He never had, not completely. Always some part of him had been hidden by the shadows. But after today there could be no more hiding between them.

  “Yes.” There was a brief hesitation, and then he unbuttoned his trousers and let them fall to the floor.

  His cock jutted up in striking arousal, but her gaze was momentarily distracted. The light also revealed the scar on his left leg, a pale line, an indelible reminder of the past.

  “My turn to worship you.”

  She slid down, trailing kisses over his muscled chest, the flat plane of his stomach. She paused at the wiry tangle of hair between his legs and wrapped one hand around the hot hardness there. Then slowly she bent to taste the salty bead of moisture at his tip.

  He let out a soft groan and his pleasure made her bolder. The skin of his cock was supple under her tongue as she lapped the underside, traced the head, then fitted her mouth over him. He groaned again and she could feel the blood pulsing through him where her hand caressed.

  It was a slow exploration, learning the shape of him, feeling him inside her mouth. His turn, and yet she was the one in power, holding him captive with his own pleasure.

  “Stop.” He breathed the word, ragged.

  “Mmm.” She continued sliding her mouth up and down, impishly ignoring his command. He was engorged, and she tasted salt again.

  “Woman.” He caught her by the shoulders and pulled her up, then wrapped his arms tightly around her to keep her from wriggling back down his body. “Another time you may continue to your heart’s content—and mine. But not tonight.”

  “No?” She loved the feeling of being pressed so close to him, skin to skin.

  “Tonight I want to be in you.”

  “Then come.”

  Golden lamplight burnished him as he moved over her. She opened her legs and he slid himself smoothly inside, filling her, the two of them fitting together perfectly. For a long moment he was still, all hard and trembling tension over and in her. And then he moved. Long, sensuous strokes that rocked the two of them, as though they were on the surface of the sea. A warm, welcoming sea. But beneath the surface, the depths.

  She tilted her hips up, moving to his rhythm, taking him deeper, accepting him heart, body, and soul. Her hands on his shoulders, urging him faster.

  “Not yet.” He stilled, pressing her to the bed. “We have time. All the time we need.” His voice was steady, but she could see the desire hot in his eyes, could feel the effort to hold himself back in his corded arms, the set of his mouth.

  “Kiss me.” She reached, tangled her fingers in his dark hair and pulled his head down. Gentle at first, lips brushing, his tongue lightly tracing the seam of her mouth. Then open mouths, breath mingling, the sweet, hot taste of him. She felt him thrust into her, his tongue, then his cock taking up the pulse, insistent. This time there would be no stopping. They would ride the steep, curving wall of pleasure together until it crested and pulled them under.

  She wanted him, wanted all of him, and he gave it, unstintingly. Nothing held back now, only this, two naked souls meeting in the heart of the fire. The heart of a promise.

  He was moving faster now, urgent above her, and she felt the molten heat uncoil. She moved with him, bodies locking and unlocking, the ebb and surge of a primal tide sweeping through them. His jaw was tight, his gaze locked on hers, and she felt desire building to the breaking point. Almost. Almost.

  Now.

  He threw his head back, the release shuddering through him as her own pleasure peaked again, pulsing through her in a hard current. The two of them riding the wave across sunlit water, tumbled by the force of passion until at last they fetched up on the shore.

  He lay on her, breathing hard, a pleasant heaviness as she stroked his back. It seemed their hearts shared a single beat, their lungs a single breath. Joy welled up inside her, pressed against her throat, against her eyes until a tear rolled down either cheek.

  “I love you, Alex,” she whispered.

  His arms tightened around her and he rolled them both onto their sides, faces just inches apart. There was something so heartbreakingly vulnerable in his expression that she had to say it again.

  “I love you—all of you. Everything that you are. Past and present.”

  “And future.” His voice vibrated with hope.

  “Yes. Future.” But for now, the present was enough. She held him close, the warm, still air all around them, the last ripples of their lovemaking shivering through her.

  “Caroline.” He smiled, his eyes oddly shy. “I never thought to have such sweetness in my life and be able to accept it. You are…” He shook his head. “It took me a long time to realize what I really felt.”

  He fell silent, staring at her as though memorizing her face. One hand lifted to stroke her hair.

  “And that is?”

  “Love.” He kissed her forehead. “Love.” Her cheek. “Love.” Her chin. “I love you, Caroline Huntington. I think I must have from the first moment I saw you, fighting to keep your feet when the world was spinning around you.”

  She smiled at the memory. “You were so forbidding. I almost wished they had taken me to another doctor.”

  “I will always be grateful they did not.”

  He pulled her close and she nestled her head into the curve of his shoulder and closed her eyes.

  It was nearly dawn when she woke. The fire had burned down to coals and the room was suffused with the pearly grey of early morning. She was still in Alex’s arms and sensed that he was awake. Had he lain there unsleeping, content to hold her all through the dark hours? His eyes met hers and he smiled.

  “Good morning, love.”

  “Yes.” Any morning waking with him lying beside her could only be good.

  “I need to leave soon, before the servants are up. But first…” A wicked light in his eyes, he set his hands to her hips and pulled her against his unmistakable arousal.

  “Insatiable, are you?” She felt an answering warmth kindle through her.

  “For you? Yes.”

  He kissed her, demonstrating just how insatiable he was, hands roving over her body, coaxing sparks of desire back into flame. Playful, teasing touches that grew insistent until she was breathless with wanting him again.

  When he slid inside her she sighed, then arched to meet him. Faster this time. The sheets bunched and pulled, the covers tangling about them. She was dimly aware of sliding near the edge, the hungry force of their movements propelling them until, with a gasp, she felt nothing but air beneath her shoulders.

  “Alex!” She wrapped her arms around him, breathless, holding on. “Ahh…don’t stop.”

  He growled low in his throat, and her response soared to meet him. It was a sweet explosion, sparks tingling all through her, a feeling of being suspended….

  And then the two of them were laughing as they toppled off the bed in a twist of covers and pure, satisfied joy.

  “Shh.” She clapped her palm over his mouth but could not restrain her own giggles.

  He gently removed her hand and smiled that rare, enormous smile, the one that smote her straight to the heart. She quieted.

  “Back into bed with you, milady.”

  “I’d rather you were there, too.” She sighed and clambered back onto the mattress, let him arrange the covers over her.

  “I know.” He dropped a kiss on her mouth, then gathered his clothing. “Soon.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Today.

  She was marrying Alex today. The knowledge rang through Caroline, even before she opened her eyes to yet another flawless Yorkshire morning. Gladness was a sweet taste on her lips as she stretched beneath the covers.

  She glanced out the window at the blue June sky, softer than the dome of blue over Crete. No length of linen cloth filtering th
e sunlight here. She thought back to that first waking in his spare cottage. Mediterranean light had filled the room that morning, but now the light was inside her. How far they had come, she and Alex.

  The shadows that had haunted his eyes were gone, the hard cast to his face had eased. His smiles came more frequently now, though they still had the power to leave her shaken and amazed. He was full of life and hope, playful and vigorous…. She blushed, though no one was there to see her.

  He had come to her every night, stolen kisses aplenty, and there had been one delightful interlude in the garden. She sighed at the memory of his hands moving over her, his mouth laying passionate kisses down her whole body, impatience in his touch as he undid buttons, pushed her clothing aside. And her own urgency as she stroked him, freed him from his trousers, and felt him gasp with desire for her. Ah, the wicked intimacy of their two bodies coming together half clothed, in the garden of all places—a secluded bower, but anyone might have stumbled over them. It had added an unexpected thrill to their lovemaking, as though they had stepped away from a summer party, the illicit strength of their hunger for each other enough to obscure any of the proprieties.

  Afterward she had lain against him, happiness glowing through her as deeper in the foliage a thrush had burst into song.

  She was glad they were not waiting. She yearned to wake beside him, day after day after day, to turn and smile at one another, sleepy and utterly content, gazing into the eyes of the beloved.

  Today she would stand before him in the little chapel overlooking the sea and pledge her heart.

  “Miss?” A quiet knock at the door. “Are you awake? I’ve some chocolate.”

  Caroline sat up and pulled her dressing gown over her shoulders. “Come in, Annie.”

  A cup of chocolate in the morning was one of her favorite indulgences, a pleasure that Alex had discovered upon their second morning here and that Cook had spoiled her with ever since.