by Donna Dalton
She fled for the door, hands outstretched. Tears blurred her vision. She could barely make out the doorway. Fingers found the jam, and she hauled herself out and into the hallway. The stair newel post was five steps from there. Twelve stairs up, one screeching tread in the middle. Six steps down the second-floor hallway. Turn left. She pounced into her bedroom and anchored herself against the bed post. Her eyes burned. Her breaths were coming in short, ragged gasps. She was about to lose everything. Again.
Footfalls thudded behind her, then a soothing warmth cuddled her back. Arms went around her. She closed her eyes, saving the memory for later when only darkness cloaked her.
“I won’t let you go, Moira.”
She dug fingernails into the carved wood. She couldn’t give in. If anything happened to him…her heart would crumple under the weight of it.
“I have to go, Anson. My fight with Thacker will at the very least interfere with all your good work. At the very worst…well, I can’t take that chance.”
Tender lips pressed her head just above her ear. Not a kiss. More as if he breathed her in. Consumed her essence.
“I’m doing all this good work because of you, Moira Devlin. You helped me see the light, to come out of my shell. You healed my wounds. You saved me.”
“Nothing pleases me more than to know I helped you. But I can’t stay. I won’t. It’s too dangerous.”
His hands slipped to her arms, and he spun her around. A parade of pearl buttons was all she could focus on. If she met his gaze, surrender would be inevitable.
“Look at me.” When she didn’t obey, he repeated the demand, softer this time. “Look at me, Moira. Please.”
His pleading shoveled into her resolve. She looked up and into eyes filled with tenderness and faint flecks of hurt. A pang stabbed her heart. No amount of lye would scrub away the stain her leaving would cause. But she had no choice. His life was at stake.
He thumbed her cheek, swiping at the wetness. “You said you love me. Is this true?”
Had she said that aloud? If so, she hadn’t meant to. The words must have tumbled out in her rush to flee. There was no taking them back now. They’d been freed like a bird, never to be caged again.
She leaned into his hand, savoring the softness cradling her cheek. He was everything she wanted. Nothing she could have. “I love you more than you will ever know. You are a wonderful, caring man. Any woman would be thrilled to have you in her life. But it’s not fair of me to ask you to risk everything for me and my baggage.”
“What isn’t fair is for me to lose my first chance at happiness since Alice died. You consume my head, my heart, my soul. I want to be with you day and night. I love you, Moira. Every part and parcel of you.”
He loved her. It was all she had ever hoped for. But she couldn’t let her joy ruin his.
“I can’t make you happy, Anson. I’m tainted…like Jukes’ creek water.” She unfastened the top three buttons of her blouse and rolled down the collar. She put her back to him, exposing her neck and the scars of her past. “You see that? Thacker and his radical followers marked me with their hatred. They set fire to our shack back in Willoughby. They killed my granny. All because of what we can do.”
Tender fingers traced the back of her neck. Her skin tingled. Her heart ached. If only she could let him in. Let him cure the pain that clouded her days and nights.
His breath whispered over her skin. “It cuts my heart to know someone caused you harm.”
She wheeled around, shrugging out his tenderness. “I don’t want your pity, Anson. I want you to understand why this can’t be. Why we can’t be together. I am poison to anyone who cares about me.”
“Oh no, my sweet Moira. You are more than wounds and scars. Much more.”
His tender words washed over her. She anchored her hands at her sides. “You deserve a woman who will give you light and joy. Not darkness and sorrow.”
“You provide all the joy and light I need. You are a special woman, and I would be the luckiest man alive to have you at my side.”
He reached out and pulled her to him, arms wrapping her, holding her, tethering her. He was wrong. She wasn’t the light. He was. Bright and insistent and warming the coldness inside her.
“I want you, Moira. Now and forever.”
Resistance melted in his heat. She collapsed against him, nuzzling his chest like a cat. Smooth cotton rasped her cheek. His scent seeped through the material. Bay Rum. Heady stuff. Her skin prickled with a dozen shocks of want.
Anson scrubbed her back, fingers trailing fire in their wake. Rackety, madcap sensations grew and twisted inside her. She arched her hips against him, seeking more.
He was aroused, the size of him bucking against her belly. He would not skulk or hide it. He was a man of science, of nature. Arousal was as natural to him as breathing.
She tilted her head back and fell into blue eyes flaming with desire. No more fighting. Their last few hours together should be filled with joy and pleasure…a treasure to hold onto when they were separated by distance and principles.
There was only one way to do that.
****
His face held a most stupefied expression. Eyelids fretted. Brow crimped. His mouth opened and closed like a fish tossed on the river bank. For a man of many words, he appeared to have none.
Moira undid the last three buttons on her blouse. “Did you hear me, Anson?”
His gaze darted to her fingers and back. He licked his lips. “You want to take this…to the bed. To consummate our feelings for one another.”
She pushed the blouse off her shoulders. Cool air swirled over her bared skin. Her insides quivered. “I want you, Anson Locke. More than anything I have ever wanted in my life. Will you have me?”
“I want nothing more than to have you…”
His words trailed away on a throaty groan. She cocked her head to the side, studying him. Hesitancy buckled his face.
“But…?” she said.
“But once we cross that bridge, there won’t be any turning back.”
She stepped closer. Her nipples strained through the thin material of her shift, seeking his touch. “I have no desire to turn back.”
“You’re certain? I don’t want you to wake tomorrow morning filled with regret.”
“There will be no regrets. Only exquisite joy. Now kiss me, Anson.”
He groaned again and dropped his head. His lips devoured hers. Hungrily. Impatiently. He tasted of coffee and honeyed want. A sweeter flavor she couldn’t imagine.
He left her mouth and slid slow, blistering kisses over her chin and down the column of her neck, stitching them together in a suture of heat. Her skin had never been so alert, so alive. She arched her neck, giving him better access.
There was a tug on the ribbons of her shift, and then his fingers were under the folds, kneading her breasts and nicking her nipples. Delightful tingles rattled through her. She shuddered and pushed into his hands. If this was Eden, she never wanted to leave.
“You’re so lovely.”
His voice was another brand of caressing, like silk over her body. Rippling down her breastbone. Tunneling deep in her belly. A fever ignited inside her. She wanted to bare all of her to his touch. She grasped the band on her skirt, but his hands stilled her.
“Let me,” he whispered.
Skilled fingers made quick work of buttons and laces and undergarments. In a matter of seconds, she stood before him, naked and shivering. Not from the cold. From the anticipation of what was to come.
“You’re even lovelier than I imagined.” Blue eyes burned dark with desire. “I’ve dreamt of this moment ever since I laid eyes on you. You are perfection. Pure perfection.”
She reached out and slipped a button free on his shirt. “Is that your clinical assessment?”
One eyebrow arched. “There are no scientific words worthy of describing you, my dear. You are sprite and queen and temptress, all rolled into one delectable form.”
She chuckl
ed and undid more buttons. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Dr. Locke.”
His hands closed over hers. “Stop for a moment.”
Earnestness had replaced the playfulness in his eyes and tone. Her heart missed a beat. “What is it, Anson?”
“Make no mistake; I want you. In my life…and in my bed.” He gave her fingers a squeeze. “But only if that is what you truly want as well. There will be consequences to what we do. There always are. Our joining should not be entered into lightly.”
He was right. There would be consequences. Her innocence would be lost. She could become pregnant. Her reputation could be ruined. But just for today, just for a few exquisite hours, she wanted to be with him, to experience the joy of love, without any barriers. “I’m prepared to accept the consequences.”
“You may think you are. Such intimacy adds new dimensions to a relationship. Some survive it. Some don’t.”
She traced his clenched jaw with a finger. “I’m not Alice. I won’t break, Anson. We won’t break.”
Eyelids briefly shuttered. “The last thing I want is to cause you pain and suffering.”
“You won’t do that. Loving you is good and right. I feel it in my heart. I want you, Anson. More than anything in this world. But if you’re having second thoughts, we can stop.”
“No. I want this too. We can work through the consequences. Together. Whatever they may be.” He cupped her hips and pulled her against him. His rod bucked against her belly. “Are you ready, my love? Because I certainly am.”
“I’ve been ready. Make love to me. Now.”
His mouth claimed hers. More demanding this time. Committed. He slid his tongue over her lips and delved inside. Her whole body came alive—a thousand butterflies bursting from their cocoons.
His hands slid up her arms, over her shoulders, and across her neck. Eager fingers dove into her hair, pushing out pins and loosening coiled locks. Freed hair cascaded down her back. He snagged a handful and hauled her closer, his mouth thieving from her like a robber of trains.
She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. A moan rumbled up from deep within her. She had never wanted anything so intensely. She wanted to feel his bare skin pressed against every inch of her.
She undid the last button and shoveled his shirt off his shoulders. Her fingers played over his bared chest. Smooth and firm with just a light dusting of hair. Beneath her fingertips, his chest rose and fell, his breaths coming in short, ragged draws. He was as eager as she was.
She slid her hands downward, over ribs and a taut, quivering stomach to the band on his trousers. The buttons sewn there weren’t as cooperative. Her fingers slipped, and she pressed against his bulging manhood.
He gasped and caught her hands. “Wait. Let me do that. Else this will be over before it even gets started.”
Shoes and socks joined the shirt puddled on the floor. Then came trousers and belt. He stood before her, rod hoisted, thick and red and ready. A breath hitched in her throat. He was magnificent. A stud stallion worthy of covering the finest mares.
He grasped her hips and propelled her backward until her thighs met the bed. He gently pushed her onto the mattress. Bedcovers cooled her backside while his body warmed her front. His hands poured over her skin, fingers kneading her hills and skimming her valleys.
He shifted and lowered his head, mouth latching onto her breast. Teeth nipped, and lips suckled. He marked her as his own. Heat coursed through her and pooled between her legs. Fire. She was on fire. Except these flames wouldn’t leave any scars.
“Anson…”
He stilled his suckling and cocked his head, peering up at her with eyes the color of a storm-tossed ocean. “What is it, my darling. Am I taking this to fast? Do you want me to slow down?”
Slow down? Not even close. A shudder ratcheted through her. “I want…I need…I don’t know. Something…more.”
That magical mouth tipped into a smile. “I think I know what.”
His hand ploughed a path down her belly and between her thighs. Fingers thrust inside. A bonfire erupted around the raid. She gasped and arched against him.
“You’re ready,” he whispered.
She was more than ready. She was at the mountain’s peak. “Yes. Please. Now. Join with me.”
Fingers withdrew, taking their pleasure with them. His breaths were hot gusts streaming over her breasts. “This is your last chance to say no. I won’t be able to stop if we go any farther.”
“There will be no stopping.” She grasped his hips. “Take me. Now.”
He shifted and hovered over her, hands braced on either side of her shoulders. His gentle gaze poured over her. “This first time is going to hurt. Just lie still. The pain will soon recede and then, I promise, there will be nothing but pleasure.”
She smiled up at him. The pain would be worth the pleasure. “Come into me.”
He took himself in hand and guided his staff between her legs. She pushed her hips upward in greeting, eager for the pleasure to begin. “Now, Anson.”
He plunged inside. White hot pain flowered around his invasion. She gasped and wriggled against the ache.
“Easy,” he crooned. “Don’t fight it. Let the pain ebb.”
She forced the tension out of her body and concentrated on the exquisite sensation of his fullness throbbing inside her. It was a strange combination of unnatural and familiar.
He moved his mouth to her breast, licking and flicking the nub with his tongue. A ribbon of heat spiraled inside her. Pain retreated, and pleasure advanced. She wanted all of him. Every inch he had to give. She wrapped her legs around his buttocks and pushed herself tighter against him.
He stilled and exhaled a throaty groan. His muscles quivered. Heat poured from him. He flexed his hips and began moving his staff out and back in. Slowly. Gently, as if savoring every thrust.
Waves built inside her, a tidal wave preparing to crash onto her shores. Her breaths were coming in quick, shallow huffs. She could barely breathe, much less move.
His movements quickened. She clung to him, taking him inside her over and over. Molten heat surged with each thrust. Fire with no pain. Nothing could hurt her when she was with him.
He threw back his head and gave one last plunge. Ragged breaths whistled through his teeth. Liquid warmth basted her insides. His seed. His markings.
Her own wave crested, and pleasure rushed in. Jolts of it splashed over her, sprinkled with her groans. She rode the surge, amazed that even with her mind awash, he could take her higher. It was limitless pleasure that glowed and blazed inside her. She closed around him, again and again.
As the last throb faded, she unfastened her legs and melted into the mattress. Time streamed once more. For a minute they lay there, him poised over her, their heated bodies mingled with sweat. If he never moved, she wouldn’t complain. He had taken her on an incredible journey. She would hold onto him, onto the memory of his lovemaking. It might the be last pleasure she felt for a long time…if ever.
He gathered her in his arms and rolled them onto their sides. Tender fingers stroked her hair. “I didn’t hurt you too badly, did I? It’s been a long time since…well, I wasn’t as slow or gentle as I should have been.”
Always thinking of the welfare of others. Was it any wonder she loved him? She snuggled against him, her head resting on his chest. His heart thudded like a horse on a racetrack, even and strong. “It was perfect. You were perfect.”
“No. I’m not. Not even close. But I know how I can get there.” He thumbed her ear, caressing the lobe. “Will you marry me, Moira? Be the half that makes me whole, the half that makes me perfect?”
She toyed with the smattering of hair peppering his chest. Becoming the wife of a kind and devoted man was all she had ever dreamed of. All she had ever wanted. But there were mountains to climb before she could have such happiness. Tall mountains with steep cliffs.
His hand captured hers. “I see my proposal has taken you by surprise.”
“Anson, I
love you with all my heart, but…”
“But it’s too sudden. I know. You are not one to jump recklessly into decisions. You weigh the consequences before acting. It’s one of the traits I love most about you.” He planted a kiss on each knuckle. “I want you to be happy, Moira. Take all the time you need. You are worth the wait.”
Chapter Seventeen
Sleep released her from its grasp. Her mind and body floated to awareness. She opened her eyes and blinked at the brilliant sunlight streaming through the window. It only did that at mid-day. Lordy, had she slept the morning away? She usually rose as the sun poked its head over the horizon. Not today. Not after last night.
She shifted beneath the bedcovers. A dull twinge throbbed between her legs. Odd that the tearing of her virginal membrane hadn’t yet healed. Her gift usually cured such minimal injuries within minutes. Perhaps it was because love had been involved. Love and a lot of passion. Warmth radiated through her at the memory of Anson’s skillful lovemaking. Oh, the things he had done to her body. He was the one with the magical powers.
She turned her head to the side. A freshly-plucked wildflower and a folded slip of paper sat on the pillow. She went up on one elbow and traced a finger over the indent where his head had rested. Even though he hadn’t shown it, she knew her hesitancy in answering his marriage proposal had hurt. It nearly killed her to know she had caused him pain, but she was only thinking of his welfare. Her lies would be far more painful if discovered after they wed, after he had fully committed his heart and soul.
She unfolded the note. My sweet Moira… She smiled at that. His Moira. He had definitely branded her. In more ways than one.
I was called out to see a patient. You were sleeping so peacefully I didn’t want to wake you. I shouldn’t be away for long. We can have a picnic lunch and spend some time together. Yours forever, Anson.
Forever. Oh, how she wanted that. To wake every morning in his arms. To spend every day by his side, performing the work they both loved. The only black cloud on the horizon – her gift. They should start their lives together without any secrets. She needed to tell him about her healing power. If he couldn’t accept her for who she was, for what she could do, then there would be no forever.
