"Arrogant, wealthy, and..." He used his finger to slowly trace the outline of her tempting mouth. "...totally captivated by you..."
He kissed her then, a slow sweet kiss filled with passion. Suddenly, she was very glad she and Foster had not been man and wife. She would never experience such sweetness if they had. Foster would never have nibbled her lip so delicately, nor made her lips part so willingly. Only Galen had the power to make her throw caution to the wind and thrill to the slide of his strong hand journeying up and down her arms. Only Galen knew how to kiss her until her lips were swollen with passion. His hands circled her shoulders and the back of her neck. He made her long to feel all he could give and give all in return.
Galen wanted to seduce her into agreeing to be his love. He wanted his kisses on her throat and his hands moving so lazily over her hardening nipples to fog her mind so she'd succumb. He sought to con vice her by slipping his tongue past the opened corners of her mouth. He thrilled to the sound of her breathless response. "Be mine..." he whispered.
Hester was already his. Her body responded as if he had fashioned it for and from his own hands. Her nipples ached from the sensations of his warm mouth closing over them through the thin, rough muslin of her gown. She arched her back as his play became more heated, and her sighs of pleasure rose softly on the night breeze.
"Be mine..."
Expert fingers undid the ribbons on her gown, then worshipping hands parted the open halves. The delicate kisses of tribute he placed on the swell of her dark breasts fired her blood. When he slid the gaping material away from one nipple and lowered his head, the bud hardened like an exotic jewel. Desire made her moan. Her head dropped back uselessly against his strong shoulder. Heat began to spiral through her, touching her in all the places that made her woman. He unveiled her other breast with the same reverence and treated it to its own lingering pleasuring.
Her virgin body, now attuned to the caresses and kisses of the man sometimes known as the Black Daniel, remembered their previous passionate encounters and so, when his hand slid beneath her twisted gown, she offered no protest. The explorations were warm, knowing, dazzling, and in response she shuddered softly.
"Sweet, sweet Indigo..."
He kissed her then with all the possessiveness of a lover. Her responsiveness further fueled his already aching need to explore her lushness to the fullest, here and now, while she flowed like honey. However, he would not. Her virgin defenses would be no match for his skill in the art of lovemaking. He could take her over to the bed, ease his long-starved passion and bind her to him just as he desired. But Galen, who in his life had never turned away a willing female, wanted her decision to be made with a clear head. At this moment, with his fingers dallying so erotically between her thighs, Galen doubted she could recall her own name. He slid his hand over the points of her breasts then back down over the soft dark hair below her navel. He decided he should put a stop to this interlude; not even his legendary discipline would hold forever. But she was so open and so womanly ripe he couldn't stop touching her.
Galen leaned down and brushed his lips across her parted mouth. "I'm going to bring you to pleasure...and then we're going to stop..."
Hester heard his words through what seemed like a fog. She didn't know if she responded verbally or silently and didn't care. Her whole world was defined by the glowing pleasure.
As the intensity increased, her hips rose under the wanton tutelage of his golden hands. He eased her gown up over her hips and whispered, "Open for me, petite..."
Because it was Galen, she had no inhibitions. She parted her thighs to give him better access to the damp, moist place he'd primed so well, knowing she would be gifted with a sweet reward for complying—and she was. There in the moonlight, Galen brought her to a searing fulfillment that ended with her gasping his name.
As Galen watched her riding out the ultimate pleasure, lord knew he wanted to proceed to the next logical step, a move seconded by his roaring manhood, but he made a vow not to have her completely until she'd made peace with her own desires. He just hoped he didn't die in the interim.
He leaned down and kissed her warmly. She made such a provocative sight lying so disheveled across his lap under the light of the moon. The sight of her only served to rekindle his flames, so he very firmly stood her up and set her on her feet. He needed to leave her, but he was so hard, it would be a while before he could walk. He closed his eyes and thought about January snow, cold rivers, and freezing rain, hoping the images would rob his body of its Indigo-inspired heat.
"Galen, is something the matter?"
"Yes, I'm trying to rid myself of your sweet heat so I can get up and go home."
Hester blinked. "Oh."
He offered her a half smile.
"Will it take long?"
"Who knows? With you standing there with your breasts bared in the moonlight, I could be sitting here until dawn."
Hester smiled saucily, but didn't close her gown. She'd come to enjoy the glitter of desire she could bring to his eyes.
He grinned at her bold manner. "Now who's being incorrigible?"
"This is all your fault, Galen. I never knew being a shameless woman could be so—enjoyable."
"Then thank me by closing your gown before I pull you back down into my lap."
"That sounds like a very serious threat, Mr. Vachon."
"You're treading on thin ice, Miss Indigo."
Hester slowly did up the ribbons. "Does that meet with your approval?"
"No, I'd much rather have you nude whenever we're together, but I do have to go home. When you marry me, I'll have the luxury of pleasuring you however and whenever you desire."
Hester's knees went weak in reaction to the heated promise in both his words and his eyes.
He finished up by saying, "Now, go over there and tuck yourself in. You've had quite a day."
To his amazement she complied. Behind him he could hear the groan of her old bed and the soft whisper of the bedding as she settled in. "Goodnight, Galen," she yawned.
"Good night, petite."
A few minutes later she was fast asleep. Sitting in the dark, Galen listened to her soft breathing and smiled.
Raymond LeVeq, seated across the breakfast table from his brooding childhood friend asked, "How long is this moping going to continue?"
Galen gave his old friend a stony look, then poured a bit more syrup in his coffee.
Raymond said blandly, "That is probably the fifth or sixth time you've sweetened that one cup."
Galen glanced down at the cup as if seeing it for the first time. The fact that Raymond was correct did not improve his mood. He looked over at Raymond and said, "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Frankly, yes. I haven't seen you this moonsick over a woman since we were twelve and you were in love with—what was her name?"
"Daniella Grimette."
"Yes, you were obsessed with her pigtails if I'm not mistaken."
"This is a bit more serious than pigtails, LeVeq."
"It's still enjoyable."
"Such a friend you are. May you be as moonsick as this someday and may I be around to laugh with the same enjoyment."
LeVeq sipped his coffee.
Galen said, "I can't believe she keeps saying no."
"Not every woman is butter in your mouth, mon ami. Considering all the women you have lost to me, you should know this."
Galen ignored the boastful claim. "But I haven't lost her to you." After a moment, Galen vowed firmly, "I will have her."
"How?" LeVeq said smoothly, "We could always shanghai her. In the morning the two of you could be on your way to Singapore or Cape Horn."
"Don't tempt me."
"Well I wouldn't worry about it, I believe Maxi and Racine are taking matters into their own hands. For some reason they think La Indigo should be with a dragon like you. Have you seen all the candles they've lit in the chapel?"
Galen shook his head no.
"Well, between Ma
xi's Haitian spirits and Racine's Catholic saints, you won't have to worry much longer. Either their combined pleas will be answered or the house is going to burn to the ground."
Word came later that week that the Blackburns had indeed arrived safely in Canada. They'd taken up residence in the town of St. Catherine's, which already had an established fugitive community. They were far out of Shoe's dastardly reach.
Chapter 15
Galen dreamed of Hester. When he awakened he could not remember the specifics of the nocturnal visit, but the lingering sweet remnants left his manhood aching and hard with need.
As he lay in bed he willed himself to dwell upon less lusty thoughts but found it an impossible task. She'd become his world and that admission propelled him to leave his bed and go seek her out.
To his delight, she was outside the house hitching her mule to the wagon when his coach rolled up. The sight of her made the beautiful spring day seem even brighter. He tapped the crown of his cane on the carriage roof, signaling the driver to stop.
"Good morning, Miss Wyatt," Galen called, stepping out from the coach.
"Good morning," she replied, watching him walk her way. He had to be the most handsome man she'd ever seen. She forced herself to await his approach and not run to him so he could satisfy her growing hunger. "What brings you out so early?"
"You were in my dreams last night."
Heat flooded her as she looked up into his eyes. She quietly confessed, "I dream of you sometimes, too."
Her admission made his heart soar. "Women don't usually plague my dreams."
"It's usually the other way around, I'd wager."
He smiled. "Truthfully, yes."
"Then turnabout is only fair play. All the brokenhearted women you've left in your wake are probably elated knowing you are being put through your paces."
"You're undoubtedly correct, but my day is coming, petite, very soon."
"Is that a threat I hear?" she asked saucily.
"No, baby girl, a promise."
Hester's senses rippled with wanton anticipation as she held his sparkling gaze. He had the ability to make her pulse race with just a few words. "Other than your promises what brings you here?"
"I came to see if you'd make mud pies with me."
"Now?" she asked with a laugh.
"Or later, if you have an appointment."
"Foster is out of town but I was on my way to return some of his books. Yes, I'll make mud pies with you, afterwards."
She could see that her answer pleased him. It pleased her also because she'd decided not to fight the feelings he inspired within. She had no idea how long he would stay in Whittaker, but she planned on enjoying the time they had left.
Hester sat with the books in her lap while Galen sat on the seat opposite hers. They passed the short journey in silence, gazing at one another. No words were expressed because none were needed. They were both well aware of the desire arching between them like lightning.
The shack that doubled as the schoolhouse sat on land not very far from Bea Meldrum's place. Her son, Lemuel, had been working on the roof for the past few weeks, so Hester did not find the sight of his old wagon out front surprising.
"Looks like Lem Meldrum's here."
After the coach came to a halt, she gathered up the books from the dark velvet seat, then she and Galen walked through the weed-lined path to the door. She noticed Foster's wagon out back. She wondered if he'd returned from Detroit a few days early. He'd gone there to process the necessary documents the state required for opening a public school, and to attend a philosophy lecture. She knew he hated to be disturbed when he was working, so she had Galen hold the books. She opened the door quietly and peeked in. Sunlight streamed in, banishing the shadows. Hester stared in disbelief at what she saw: there in the middle of the floor, rutting with Lemuel Meldrum, was Foster's wife, Jenine!
If Hester noticed Galen come up behind her she gave no indication. His height gave him a clear view over her head and into the room. Unlike the stunned Hester, Jenine and her lover were making plenty of noise. Clothes were strewn everywhere.
Jenine and Lemuel were so intent upon their pleasure, a few moments passed before either glanced up. Jenine's eyes widened seeing the watchers at the door. "Hester?!" she croaked.
Hester wanted to run away as fast as her legs would allow, but her hurt and anger on Foster's behalf made her stay. "Hello Jenine. Lem."
Jenine had the decency to look embarrassed as she slid her body from Lem's. She turned her back and covered her nakedness with a thin wrapper she picked up from the floor. "Please, don't tell Foster, this will kill him."
Hester agreed that it probably would.
Lemuel dressed casually, and when he finished, he gave Jenine a smile, then left without a word.
"How could you do this?" Hester asked.
She shrugged. "A woman has needs."
Hester stared. "Isn't that why you take a husband?"
"What do you know about needs? Weren't you the woman willing to accept a celibate marriage?"
Hester felt embarrassment burn her cheeks. "Foster is a decent, caring man."
"Yes, he is, but he knows nothing outside of his philosophy books," she said, and she began to dress.
Hester looked to Galen. He raised an eyebrow but didn't speak.
Jenine glared at them both. "I saw you two the night of the party. Your eyes followed her everywhere, Vachon, almost like a lover."
"And?" Galen asked coolly.
"Folks here won't be happy when they find out you've turned Saint Hester into your whore."
Hester took a step forward but Galen grabbed hold of her arm and made her stay put. "Are you threatening to start gossip, or intent on blackmail?"
Jenine shrugged. "I simply don't want my business spread around any more than the two of you. Keep my secrets and I'll keep yours."
Galen told Jenine plainly, "I don't care if you cuckold Foster with every man in the state, but lay your whorish tongue on Hester and I will destroy you."
The pure force of Galen's soft voice made Jenine visibly tremble a second before she gathered herself. Chin high, she replied, "As I said, you keep my secrets, and I'll keep yours."
Galen gave her a deadly little smile, then escorted Hester away.
Back in the carriage, Hester was so frustrated she wanted to scream her unvented rage. How dare that empty-headed little slut call her a whore.
Galen looked over at her and smiled. "Still mad?"
Her eyes flashed like a summer storm. "How can you be so calm?"
"I told her what she needed to know. She holds her own fate now."
"I had no idea she was so predatory. Foster will be devastated."
"I'm sure he will, but I would not interfere."
"Galen, he's a friend. He needs to know."
"Not from you, petite. Remember, he's in love with her. Who's to say he will believe you, especially when we know she will deny the tryst. If you value Foster's friendship, leave this alone. She'll show her true colors eventually."
"But—"
"Trust me on this."
Hester continued to have doubts, but decided to heed Galen's advice for now.
Before going to make mud pies, Hester wanted to return home and change clothing. Abigail stepped out onto the porch as Hester left the coach and came up the walk. Hester could see Abigail's surprised face. "Good morning, Gail."
"Good morning. Is that Galen Vachon's coach?"
"Yes," Hester answered on her way into the house.
Gail followed her inside. "Where are you going?"
Hester was halfway up the stairs to her room. "To make mud pies," she called back.
After changing and coming back downstairs, Hester faced a very confused Abigail, who asked, "Mud pies?"
"Mud pies."
"What on earth for?"
"Galen likes to make them."
"Galen?"
"Yes, Gail. Galen."
Hester could just about imagine wh
at Gail thought of Hester addressing Vachon by his given name.
Gail asked, "So, are you going to tell me what is going on or will I have to pull it out of you like taffy?"
"There isn't much to tell really. I'm attracted to him and he seems very attracted to me."
Gail looked at her as if she'd grown a new head. "Galen Vachon?"
Hester nodded. "So if you want to take me to task do it quickly because he's waiting."
Gail grinned at the show of temper. "Hester Wyatt, is this really you?"
Hester looked down embarrassed. "Yes, it is. Gail, he makes me feel so—I can't explain it. Do you think I'm in love?"
"It's possible, my dear. But why did you look so glum when you came up the walk?"
Hester hesitated to tell Gail of Jenine's adultery, but she knew Gail could keep a confidence. Unburdening herself would also help her feel better.
Hester gave Gail a quick account of this morning's encounter. Gail was speechless.
Hester added, "Galen says I shouldn't tell Foster because Jenine will surely deny the whole thing and Foster won't believe me."
"He's probably correct. My goodness, what a mess. First you and Galen, and now this. Viola Welsh would probably put April on the block for the chance to pass this gossip around."
"I'm sure she would."
"Well, I'm not Viola. You go on and make your mud pies and have a good time. We'll talk about all this when you return."
Hester gave her friend a strong hug for her support then hurried out to join Galen.
They found a spot on the rock-strewn bank below the Folly. Unlike the last time, the hills surrounding the Huron River were no longer bare, but covered with the emerald-green coat of new spring leaves. In another month's time the foliage of the towering trees would be luxurious.
Hester was sitting and peering at the mud castle she'd just fashioned. "How does this look?"
Galen, who was lying on his back watching the changing patterns of the clouds against the blue sky, turned over and studied her creation. "Not bad for a novice."
"A novice? I suppose you can do better?"
"Raymond and I built better castles than that in our prams."
Feigning outrage, Hester threw a handful of mud his way. He rolled quickly out of the way and sprang to his feet. His playful growl propelled her up and sent her running and laughing down the bank. He caught her in less than three strides and scooped her up into his arms. When he began to tickle her, she screamed with laughter.
Indigo Page 21
