Love and Honor: The Coltrane Saga, Book 7

by Patricia Hagan

  “It’s just beginning,” he said solemnly, his eyes burning into hers. “Now that I’ve found you, I’m never going to let you go.”

  His voice broke the spell, and Kit felt a cool wave of apprehension sweep over her. Could she really trust him with her heart? Kit didn’t know, but something told her to move slowly. She would not give up her dream for him until she could be totally certain that she was not just another conquest.

  His lips claimed hers again, igniting the flames of desire once more. Helpless, Kit yielded to the passionate hunger she knew he could fill…again and again and again.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Kit and Kurt disembarked in Cherbourg, looking for all the world like newlyweds who were madly in love with each other.

  They had not ventured from the stateroom during the remainder of the voyage. Kit laughed that she’d be the center of attention in Kurt’s robe and Kurt nodded, saying that she needed to regain her strength—a lascivious glint in his eyes.

  So they had laughed together and fallen back into each other’s arms. The long hours they shared resulted in a new awareness of each other, a better understanding…and the beginning of a warm and tender relationship that made Kit dizzy to contemplate. They made love as if possessed, their appetite for each other seemingly insatiable. Yet at times Kit wondered whether Kurt felt more for her than simply passion. She knew that there were other women in his life and she didn’t know how she would handle that when they were back in Spain. She’d then get angry at herself. After all, Kurt owed her nothing. He had made no promises, and neither had she. They were enjoying each other now with no commitments. She told herself that she was a fool to attach any importance to the past few days. Love and lovemaking did not guarantee a tomorrow—only a pleasurable today.

  After buying Kit some clothes so she could leave the ship, Kurt checked them into one of the finer hotels. While they enjoyed a brunch of champagne and fruit, he announced that they were going on a shopping spree. “Can’t have my wife looking dowdy,” he said with a wink.

  Kit laughed with him. “I don’t need very much. Just a couple of traveling suits for the train ride home. Once I get there I won’t need anything but dungarees and boots for a long, long time!”

  Smiling to himself, Kurt said, “Well, dowdy little traveling suits with big feathered hats are not what I had in mind. Why don’t you let me try my hand at choosing female clothes?”

  Intrigued, Kit allowed him to take the lead. Bypassing staid dress shops, Kurt led her up a flight of crooked stone steps to an unusual shop. Kit was stunned to see a mannequin dressed in a provocative lace nightgown. She stopped short. “Kurt, what kind of place is this?”

  “A place for fun clothes,” he said matter-of-factly. “The lady who runs it is an old friend of mine, and she sells only the most avant-garde fashions. She does quite a business.”

  Kit did not want to offend him, but she was determined not to waste her money. “Really, Kurt, all I need are a few things to wear home. I’m not destitute, but I do need to budget what I have.”

  “This is my treat,” he said, squeezing her hand. “And as I said, you need more than one or two dresses.”

  “Not for just a train ride,” Kit protested.

  “We aren’t going by train,” he announced.

  “What?” She yanked her hand away and stared at him in bewilderment. “You mean you’ve hired a car?”

  Kurt shook his head, a secret smile playing around his mouth. “No, I didn’t hire a car. Now, let’s go buy you some pretty things to wear in the moonlight, sipping champagne under the stars, or sunning yourself on deck—”

  “On deck?” Kit echoed.

  “I have a yacht,” he said nonchalantly.

  Kit clapped her hands and squealed with delight. “How wonderful that will be,” she cried, her eyes shining.

  “I’ve got a small crew,” he explained, his voice low and intimate as he slipped his arm about her waist and pulled her close. “We’ll still have a lot of privacy though…for our honeymoon.”

  Kit laughed with him, but something suddenly began to nag at her…something she could not quite define.

  Inside the store, Kit met Madame Voncina LaVoures. Madame clapped her hands in approval as she appraised Kit’s slim, curvaceous figure. Then she disappeared into the rear of the shop, ordering the models to get ready for a command showing.

  Kit wandered aimlessly around the room, wondering why she suddenly felt so uneasy. Then the reason came to her, although she really didn’t want to admit it. The truth was that all the joking and bantering about their being married disturbed her. Somehow it made a mockery of what she’d dared to dream might be growing between them. And this place looked like a bordello! Did Kurt bring all his new conquests here? she wondered angrily. By the time Madame LaVoures returned, Kit had worked herself up into quite a rage. She was about to storm out of the shop and head for the train depot by herself.

  Kurt sensed that something was wrong and was at her side as Madame clapped her hands for the first model to make her entrance.

  “What you’re thinking isn’t true, Kit,” he said quietly.

  He tried to put his arm around her but she jerked away. “Are you a mind reader?” she snapped angrily.

  “It doesn’t take a mind reader to see that you’re letting your imagination run away with you and that you’re about to lose that peppery little temper of yours.”

  “Am I?” she said frostily, stepping away from him.

  His smile faded. “Yes, you are, and one of these days that bratty little disposition is going to earn you a spanking.”

  “Don’t you threaten me!” Kit hissed. “I have a right to be angry with you for bringing me to a…a harlot’s designer!”

  Kurt threw back his head and laughed. “Why don’t you just watch the fashion show, Kit? If you don’t see anything you like, then we’ll go find your dowager dresses and be on our way.”

  Kit joined him stiffly, quite expecting to see red lace corsets and black negligees. Instead she was surprised and pleased to see very elegant designs—nightgowns and bathrobes, ball gowns and tea dresses, even bathing suits.

  “Pick anything you want,” Kurt told her. “We’ll be stopping in different ports along the way to sightsee and dine. I brought you here because I knew you’d enjoy it more if you were dressed for every occasion.”

  She looked up at him in wonder. “How could you have crossed on the same ship with us if you took such a long cruise to get to Cherbourg?”

  “I didn’t,” Kurt explained. “I went by train, motor car, and carriage, the same as you did.”

  “Then…”

  Again, Kurt knew exactly what she was thinking, and nodded with a grin. “I rented a yacht and crew this morning, Kit. I thought you’d want a few days to rest up here before we start out.”

  Filled with gratitude, Kit wanted to throw herself into his arms, but Madame was standing to one side watching her expectantly. Mindless of propriety, Kurt leaned over to grab her and pull her close against him. “I know what else you were thinking, princesa,” he told her huskily, his coffee-brown eyes glowing with the sheen of passion she had come to know so well the past few days. “You think that I’ve bought other women clothes, but you’re wrong. I bought them presents, yes, but don’t think you’re like the others, Kit. You never could be. You’re rare and special and beautiful, and…”

  Kurt caught himself and fell silent, his gaze locked with hers. Then he suddenly kissed her, long and hard, leaving them both shaken.

  Madame coughed discreetly to remind them that they were not alone. Kit’s heart was pounding. She wondered if he’d been about to say that he loved her, and whether she would have believed him if he had.

  Although Kit had been raised in luxury and wealth, she was visibly awed by the yacht Kurt had leased for their trip home. It was like a mansion afloat, with the same sumptuous accommodations.

  The master bedroom suite was ornately decorated in rose and mauve, wi
th a huge round bed and velvet headboard. Glass doors leading onto the deck commanded a sweeping view of the sea beyond.

  Pegasus was safely ensconced below deck. The weather was ideal—smooth seas, blue skies, balmy breezes. Kit was so happy she felt as if she were in heaven.

  One night as they stood on deck, the moonlight bathing them in silver, Kurt gazed down at her adoringly. “This is so perfect,” he said huskily. “It almost makes me wish it were our honeymoon.”

  Kit shivered in delight at his words, not daring to admit that she’d had the same wistful thought more than once.

  They stopped in Oporto, which, Kit learned, was the oldest and second-largest city in Portugal. Kurt explained that it was also the home of port wine, aged in caves along the river, where they visited to taste the precious vintage. They strolled hand in hand through the gorgeous Crystal Palace there, and the magnificent gardens near the Douro River.

  Kit was enthralled by Lisbon, with its Moorish castles, Renaissance monasteries, and cathedrals. They spent delightful hours exploring the Estufa Fria, a huge, shady hothouse full of grottoes, streams, and bridges.

  Next they entered the Strait of Gibraltar, passing the huge rock guarding the entrance to the Mediterranean. In the distance lay the coast of Morocco, and Kurt gave her a mock frown. “When I tire of you, wench, that’s where I’m taking you—to the slave market in Tangiers. A sultan would pay a handsome price for an ivory-skinned harlot like you!”

  Kit raised her chin haughtily. “You must first own something, sir, before you can sell it, and you will never own me!”

  Kurt laughed and scooped her into his arms, taking her to their suite. Once there, he lay her gently on the bed. Cradling her in his arms, he stroked her coppery hair. Then, with infinite tenderness, he began to take off her clothes, piece by piece. When she lay there naked, her smooth porcelain skin glowing in the semidarkness, he slid over her, stretching his long, muscular length along her body. He traced her cheek with his finger and gazed deep into her eyes.

  “You have no idea how much you’ve come to mean to me,” he said in a husky voice. Kit’s lavender eyes filled with sudden tears as her heart thrilled to his words. Then the cold voice of reason warned her to be wary—Kurt might have spoken these few words to countless other women. The next moment she forgot her fears and surrendered to his passionate touch. Kurt’s lips trailed kisses between her breasts, making her clutch his dark curls in her fists. When he rose up and entered her, she moaned with pleasure. They began to move together, and Kit arched her back to take him deeper and deeper as they grew lost in the wonder of each other.

  They soon passed M’alaga, where sparkling beaches lay beneath the picturesque old town of narrow, winding streets, whitewashed Moorish houses, and colorful African flowers.

  The yacht sailed on, hugging the coastline of Spain. One morning as they stood at the bow, the sunshine warming their faces, Kurt said solemnly, “It’s been said that to be a young sailor in the Mediterranean Sea is to feel like the gods on Olympus.” Kit smiled up at him.

  They would soon reach Valencia. She tried not to think about what lay ahead, wanting only to savor every golden, precious moment alone on the yacht with Kurt. “I hate for it to end. It’s been a wonderful trip,” she whispered tremulously. “Whatever the future holds, I’ll never forget this time with you!”

  Kurt brushed back a copper tendril, and gently kissed her forehead. “It’s not ending, sweetheart. It’s just beginning.” He paused, searching for the right words to express what was on his mind, in his heart. “I know you’ve got to follow your dream. Even though I don’t approve, I want you to know that I’ll be there for you when you need me, but I won’t interfere. Remember that.”

  Their gazes locked, and they sealed a silent promise of love and devotion with a kiss that left them both breathless.

  When they arrived in Valencia, Kurt invited her to stay at his ranch until she could get settled at her own. “I don’t think so,” Kit said. “People gossip.” She found it difficult to sound convincing because all she really wanted to do was sleep in his arms every night, and awaken to his kisses every morning. “It’s important that I be respected in the community,” she told him seriously.

  Kurt shook his head in amusement. “You don’t give a damn what people think, any more than I do, but play a little game, sweetheart. You know where to find me.”

  He left her at a hotel, where she lodged while the little house on her ranch was renovated. The days passed quickly, as she sat up at dawn with the workmen, falling into bed exhausted when darkness fell. She dreamed of Kurt, and the magical times they’d shared, trying not to worry because he hadn’t been in touch. She knew that he was determined not to interfere, but she missed him terribly. She vowed that once she moved into her house, she’d ask him to come to her.

  Finally, only two weeks after her return, Kit was ready to move into her house. She checked out of the hotel, feeling more than a little disappointed that Kurt was not there to share her excitement. Suddenly she found herself wondering just how much he’d meant of what he’d said. Did he really intend to stay away until she sent for him? Kurt was used to women running after him, and Kit knew it was important to proceed with caution, lest she wind up getting hurt. Perhaps their time on the cruise had been as much a fantasy as their masquerading as newlyweds. Maybe Kurt was bowing out—and giving her a chance to save face.

  Kit tried to forget Kurt and enjoy her new home. The little ranch house had been completely redone, with a new roof and floor, and a fresh coat of paint. The barn glistened red in the sunlight, just waiting for the horses she would buy as soon as she had a chance.

  Kit walked through each room, savoring the feeling of absolute freedom. Now she would write to her parents and tell them how happy she was, ask them to understand and forgive her. But first she wanted to visit the barn and think about what kind of horses she would buy.

  Kit walked the short distance up the hill, whistling happily in the warm spring sunshine. It was the middle of May, and the hills were covered with a riotous profusion of wildflowers. Birds were singing, and in the distance she could see the river flowing sleepily. She was supremely happy, and wished only that Kitty had lived to share this with her.

  Suddenly Kit heard a strange sound coming from inside the barn. Then she heard a soft whinny, and she began to run. She rushed into the barn to find Pegasus prancing around inside. He was wearing a beautiful leather saddle trimmed in silver, and his harness was pure sterling. There was a piece of paper tied to one of the reins, and Kit read with misty eyes:

  My housewarming gift to you, princesa.

  With a sob of sheer joy, Kit swung into the saddle. She’d never ridden to Kurt’s ranch, but somehow she knew that Pegasus would find the way.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jade slept until noon, when finally the sounds of traffic on Fifth Avenue nudged her awake. She climbed out of bed wearily and padded to the window, looking down on the activity below with bored detachment.

  For the past few months, life had been terribly dull. She had loved Kitty Wright Coltrane to a fault, but she was tired of the reclusive life led since her death nearly four months ago.

  Jade’s misery was magnified by Kit’s running away. Jade knew that she’d returned to Spain. Colt had wanted desperately to go after her and drag her back, but Jade had managed to persuade him that that wasn’t the answer. Kit would, she predicted, find out soon enough that being independent was not as easy as she’d thought, and she’d return on her own. If they forced her to come back, she’d only run away again the first chance she got.

  They had buried Kitty in Nice, beside her husband. Then, because of the unrest in Russia, they had gone directly to Switzerland to get Marilee settled. It had been an extremely tense time—Marilee did not want to be left in Switzerland, and Travis just withdrew further within himself, speaking to no one.

  And during the whole trip, Jade had to endure her secret pain. She told herself repeatedly that
it didn’t matter that Bryan was alive—he was married to someone else and he had a family, but she could not forget his obsession with her, and she worried he might try to find her. He had been truly mad then…and perhaps he still was! What if it occurred to him that he might be the father of her children? Jade shuddered at the very thought.

  They had arrived back in New York with no plans beyond seeing Travis enrolled in West Point. He had left yesterday, and Jade suddenly realized that her life seemed to have skidded to a halt. They had no plans, because Colt had become as withdrawn as Travis. They just didn’t talk to each other anymore. He was still distraught about Kit, she knew, and only time was going to resolve his bitter feeling of betrayal.

  Jade looked at the new gown Carasia had laid out for her with a sigh. She was sick to death of wearing nothing but black crepe, black stockings, and black veils!

  She rang for Carasia to bring some tea and was surprised to see Colt carrying the tray, dressed in a blue serge business suit, instead of black, his black armband conspicuously absent.

  Setting the tray down on the bed, he said simply, “It’s time we got on with our own lives, Jade.”

  She nodded and smiled, reaching out to caress his cheek.

  Colt then poured them each a cup of tea while he recounted the morning’s business. “Our attorney said that Kitty’s assets are being liquidated, and the proceeds transferred to our bank here. The land in North Carolina is going to be left to Travis and…” He hesitated, his face darkening. “…Kit.”

  Jade squeezed his hand. “She’ll be back one day, Colt. We know that Kitty withdrew a large amount of cash from the bank before we left for Washington. Since it wasn’t found, we can be sure she gave it to Kit.”

  Colt held her hand tightly. “There’s more,” he said slowly. “She bought Kit a ranch in Spain before we left.”