by Dana Roquet
Desiree nervously ran a hand through her hair that lie upon her shoulder then breathed deeply and knelt beside the bed, resting her arms before her and plucking self-consciously at the sleeve of her dress. Tears well up before she even could begin to speak but she made no attempt to hide them.
Stephen turned to lie upon his side facing her, his head propped up upon one hand, while taking care that his sheet remained carefully draped across his waist. He waited for her to speak, leery of opening his mouth and saying something that might spoil this chance for a civil discussion. Desiree wiped at her tears and with a shake of her head stood again. He was afraid she was about to flee and his hand shot out, taking one of hers lightly in his own. Her eyes probed his and he could see she was in utter turmoil.
“Please talk to me Desiree.”
“I—I am afraid.” She said softly, taking a trembling breath while drawing her hand from his.
“You have nothing to fear from me. Talk.” He urged gently, patting the bed beside him invitingly and coming to a sitting position, leaning back against a pillow to wait. After a few moments hesitation Desiree took the pro-offered seat facing him and tucked one leg up beneath her.
“I want to ask you something Stephen and I want the truth from you.” She began, controlling her voice and wiping the tears from her eyes with the hem of her dress, “You spoke last night of what we had shared before and your desire to share that again. The talks—spending time together. Would you be content then if I once more welcomed your company and leave it at that?” She watched his face carefully for any hint of his anger but detected none.
“Honesty—truthfulness you want, correct?” he asked with a soft smile.
Desiree nodded.
“And if I answer such will you also answer my questions the same without flying into a rage?” he frowned slightly, wiping a lingering tear from her cheek with his fingertips. Desiree nodded once more.
“No Desiree I would not be content to leave it at that. I want you and could not honestly agree to anything less for I would not be able to stand by it.”
“So you leave me with no choice but to sever our relationship completely.” She stated matter of fact. “Then it shall be so.” She shrugged her shoulders dejectedly, starting to rise from the bed but Stephen touched her arm, halting her.
“Is that the end of it then, without a touch of feeling? Just cast me aside as though deciding against buying a new hat? This is much too important—at least to me to let it end with one simple question and answer. Now it is my turn—remember, truthfully.” He paused, then asked softly, “Do you want me?”
Desiree felt the color come up in her cheeks at the bluntness of his question. She could not meet his gaze.
“Desiree—answer me.” He coaxed, lifting his hand to gently touch her chin and turn her face so he could look into her eyes.
“I…please—let’s just end this entire conversation. I should not have come…”She breathed nervously, attempting again to rise but again was halted by Stephen.
Ever so gently, he reached out with both hands cupping her face. His mouth brushed hers in a gentle kiss, a second kiss clung and slightly parted her lips, and finally he kissed her deeply. Desiree felt as if she would die from the sheer bliss of it. She responded to him, tilting her head slightly, forming to his mouth. It was as though she was in one of her dreams but this searing warmth was real. He pulled back and she sat stunned by the loss of his touch.
“You want me.” He confirmed. “So what is this about? Why the fear—your aversion toward me? Why the lack of interest you profess?” he asked, fixing her with a level stare.
“Stephen, you want the truth—you shall have it. Making love is for a marriage bed, at least in my part of the world.” She blurted, wishing at once that she could take the words back. It sounded like a proposal or an ultimatum and she had not intended that.
“So if I were to ask for your hand in marriage, then it would be acceptable?” he asked seriously. “I will.”
“No! Please do not jest at my expense Stephen. I am so confused—I—I am making a fool of myself!” She said softly, looking to her hands in her lap. “I did not mean to insinuate such—I–I am leaving. This is getting us nowhere!” she stammered.
Stephen prevented her from rising once more as he spoke; “I am not jesting by any means. I will do whatever I must to gain your trust again. I would marry you this minute if it would bring you back into my life.” He lifted and kissed her hand lightly, while his eyes probed hers, “but Desiree I do not believe marriage is any assurance of an undying devotion and I don’t feel it should be used to barter with, but if that is what you require—would you then believe I mean you no harm?”
His words struck like lightening. She was trying to force him into something for passion’s sake, that in her opinion should be entered into for one reason only—love. How often had she heard the girls at school speaking of using this very tactic to force a man’s will and bring him to the alter? She was amazed that he was willing to do such but she knew she would not hold him by those means.
“To possess me you would go to such an extreme? When you might find the same in any number of women throughout the world?” she asked, her voice echoing her amazement.
“Your innocence is showing my sweet—for what you have to offer me I would find nowhere else, even if I searched a lifetime.”
“Are you saying you love me then?” She ventured and was surprised when he looked away, all at once flustered. “You didn’t answer me!” She prodded, smiling with amusement and enjoying his unrest.
He squirmed under her regard, looking about the room uncomfortably, then growled, “That does it, I’m leaving! You are tormenting me!” When he made as if to rise from the bed, Desiree laughed brightly and he settled back once more, watching her thoughtfully. “Do you know how long it has been since I have heard your laughter?”
“Quite some time.” She sighed softly. She realized then how much she had missed him, his easy charm and silly playfulness. She further realized that she, indeed, wanted him, under any circumstances and she would no longer deny it.
He pulled her gently to him, kissing her long and sound, “Stay with me tonight Desiree.” He whispered, “Stay.” His lips brushed hers as he spoke and his voice was not pleading, simply asking.
Desiree stood and slowly began to unbutton her clothes but Stephen rose to stand before her, moving her hands aside. He kissed her gently, while with nimble fingers he unbuttoned her dress, slipping his hands within and the fabric moved off her shoulders, sliding from her arms and dropping to the floor. His lips caressed her shoulder, where his thumb moved the strap of her chemise and he unlaced the satin ribbon at the valley between her breasts and the garment slipped to join the gown.
He lifted her effortlessly and laid her across the bed, lowering himself beside her. His lips tested hers, while his hand savored her skin, moving from her throat down to her flat stomach and then his kisses ceased and his eyes rose slowly to meet hers. He rested his hand along her waist while his expression was warm and tender, “You will not rush out hating me after?” he pleaded in a husky voice.
Desiree smiled and touched his muscular shoulder, “I fear I must be insane but no—I will not rush out. I am going to trust in you Captain Colter and believe in you and pray that I do not regret that decision.”
He folded her in his arms, pulling her close as his lips savored hers once more. His whisper was barely audible, a commitment spoken between fevered kisses, “You can trust me.”
And he took her with the utmost of care—binding her to him once more with tender, giving passion. They were alone in the world and nothing mattered but this moment.
***
Sometime later as they lay in the warm glow of their spent love, Stephen reclined against a heap of pillows with Desiree’s cheek against his chest and wrapped within his arms as he gently stroked her bare shoulder.
“Stephen?” Desiree questioned, breaking the silence.
> “Uh-huh.” He replied in a whisper.
Desiree turned in his arms, propping herself on his chest to gaze up into his eyes, “How old are you?”
“How old would you guess me to be?” he asked with a chuckle.
“I would guess…” She wrinkled her brow, pondering, “Thirty and three.”
He raised a brow in surprise, “Good God—I must be terribly weathered!” he laughed.
“Tell me! You asked me to guess, now tell me true.” She said tweaking his furry chest.
“I’m on the downhill side of twenty-six my sweet.”
Her mouth opened in surprise, “Never would I have guessed you to be so young.”
“Thank you very much.” He replied dryly.
“I’m sorry.” She apologized. “I have never been a very good judge of a person’s age. What would you guess me?”
“Ohhh—I don’t know that I dare attempt it. If I guess low I’ll be accused of doubting your womanhood and if high, you shall believe I think you weathered.” He said with a shake of his head and a chuckle.
“No I’ll not be upset, come on then…” She giggled, sitting up on her heels before him and giving him an innocent but enticing view of her ample charms.
With a deep breath, Stephen cringed and sighed carefully, “Eighteen.”
“You are correct. I had hoped you would think me a bit older.” she frowned teasingly; then broke into a warm smile, “How old are your brothers? Older or younger than you?” she asked, curious to see if possibly being the eldest lent to his maturity.
“Well…Daniel would be thirty-one, William would be twenty-eight—Timothy is twenty.” He stated, fingering a strand of her hair that fell over her shoulder.
“Are they all men of the sea as you?”
“Timothy has just taken to running a ship of his own in the last year. Before that he sailed with me.” He offered.
“What of the older two?” she pressed, while slapping at his hand. He was holding the strand of hair and running it along her throat softly.
“Daniel and Will are dead my sweet.” He sighed.
“Oh Stephen forgive me. I shouldn’t have pried.”
He shook his head, leaning up to place a kiss upon her mouth and then fluffing the pillows, reclined again, “Don’t fret sweet, it’s all right. It happened many years ago.”
“You needn’t say more…”
“I don’t mind speaking of it,” he began, “it was one of my early voyages as a lad. We were transporting powder and flintlocks from England to the colonies and it was the day we were to sail from Glasgow. Ham and I were returning from taking our morning fare at an inn and as we approached the docks, a tremendous explosion rattled the windows. We looked up ahead to see our ship going up in flames.”
He paused, his eyes distant as if reliving the day and Desiree sat patiently, waiting on him to continue.
“Will was killed instantly, as were many of the crew but Daniel had been at the helm, away from the initial blast and was severely burned. He lingered for days before he finally died. I was with him until the end.” He finished softly.
He seemed to still be in the past and Desiree sat quietly, watching his face, allowing him his private thoughts.
Stephen had only gone lightly over the details but now remembered the scene with horrible clarity. The force of the explosion had turned the docks into a madhouse. Smoldering debris fell in a shower from the sky—people were running to and fro. In terror, animals broke free from their tethers and dashed frantically about. Ships were being hustled out of their berths, away from the burning vessel and in the confusion; he and Ham had tried to make their way to the ship. They were a good two hundred yards away, stumbling through the chaos, when up ahead, walking from the acrid sulfur smoke—very slowly and unhurried, came Daniel, his entire body ablaze.
He remembered now how no one seemed to notice him—only he and Ham. All were caught up in their own terror, while Daniel stumbled numbly along the dock. He had felt as if running in place, as if an eternity had passed before they made their way to him. Ham grabbed a burlap cover off a wagon as they passed and they fell upon him, smothering the flames.
He knew their efforts had been in vain when they lay him upon a bed after carrying him through the streets of Glasgow to a nearby inn. He was burned almost beyond recognition and charred; blackened flesh came away with the rough burlap covering when they gently removed it. It would be days of agony before Daniel finally gave up and quietly stopped breathing.
He had stayed by his side, awaiting the end, in tears most of the time. He could remember the ragged rattling of his breathing, the agonized moans, and the smell of burned and gangrenous flesh and how he had prayed over and over for him to die quickly. He had cursed himself for not having the courage to take up a weapon and end Daniel’s misery and he remembered begging Ham to do what he was unable and being refused. So he had sat by Daniel’s side, watching his once vibrant older brother die slowly, in solitary torture.
“Stephen?”
He lifted his gaze to Desiree, being brought back abruptly from the past. Desiree could see the pain in the dark shadows moving across his face, “I am so very sorry. Forgive me for bringing up past pain.”
He shook his head, “I am fine sweet. I just had not thought of that for a very long time. Now it seems as if it were yesterday.” He smiled warmly, sitting up and pulling her to him for what began as a reassuring hug but became a tight embrace.
“How old were you?" she asked softly.
“Sixteen.” He sighed, releasing her and placing a soft kiss upon her lips, “Will was only eighteen and Daniel—twenty-one. When I think now of the two of them, how I had looked up to them as so old and worldly, modeling myself after them, it’s hard to believe how young they were.”
“It appears we have both had our share of loss.” Desiree stated.
“Aye, that we have.” He agreed pulling her down beside him, then moving atop her, “Come with me my raven haired beauty, cleanse my mind of the pain and the past.”
Each kiss, every caress of his hands was measured. Desiree felt as if being devoured with every contact. He seemed to know every inch of her body and yet at the same time he was discovering, savoring her, causing her to tremble with his touch as he made her feel so very feminine, so vital and so needed as he reaffirmed that he was alive.
He came to her slowly and she gasped with emotion as he filled her and his mouth possessed hers with all the passion he had within his being. He began to move, bringing her with him as they built to spiraling heights, until neither could endure another moment and their combined urgency drove them to the gasping summit. Their breath was warm in one another’s mouths, their embrace powerful, desperate as though they might draw one within the other.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Desiree’s first sight upon waking was that handsome face, next to her own, sharing her pillow. He lay upon his stomach beside her and she was quick to notice that he was uncovered. She leaned up on one elbow as her eyes roamed over him, past the broad brown back, to the narrow hips where dark skin met light, over the firm buttocks and long straight legs. Even relaxed, the muscle of his body was defined and the rugged power he possessed brought a stirring to her. For despite the power, his touch could be as gentle as a whispering wind. Her eyes came back to his face and she smiled at his innocence in slumber, admiring the handsome features for a time. Then taking a strand of her hair, she touched it to his cheek and he stirred, wrinkling his brow in annoyance. She touched it along the bridge of his nose and he swatted the thin air and then covered his face with a hand, mumbling inaudibly and she choked back a laugh. His fingers separated and he peered at her from between them.
“I am awake. You may cease at any time.” He suggested with feigned annoyance.
He moved his hand and smiled sleepily, “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” She whispered with an impish grin.
He reached over and pulled her arm supporting her weight out fro
m under her and scooped her into his arms, tasting her lips with a throaty growl, “You are really here.” He said in amazement, nuzzling her neck, “I am not dreaming.”
His passion flared as it had, more than once, through the course of the night and Desiree pushed back with a laugh, “You can not be serious Stephen! I believe you are impossible to satisfy! Please—not again, I can’t! I’m exhausted.” She jumped as his teeth nibbled lightly at her shoulder, “Behave—please!”
She wriggled away to the opposite side of the bed and he fell onto the pillows with a sigh, “Come back here—for I haven’t the energy to come after you.” he chuckled.
“You act as though you are starved, instead of well appeased. I am not going anywhere Stephen—you needn’t kill us both trying to make up for lost time.”
She sat up and moved warily to the foot of the bed, keeping her eyes on him all the while. The movement seemed to go unnoticed by him until he turned over and lunged to a sitting position, grasping her about the waist. She shrieked with merriment as he pulled her back down and pinned her beneath him. He kissed her deeply as he leisurely fondled her breasts, teasing and enticing her to respond. She pulled away from his kiss and sank her teeth into his shoulder, gently.
“Ouch, why you little—that hurt!” he said in jest with a chuckle.
Her lips kissed the supposed injury and traced along his neck to his ear where her teeth nipped at his lobe, causing him to shudder. Then she moved along his jaw with gentle, fleeting kisses until her mouth met his once more and his kiss was heated and insistent.
A sudden light knock at the door brought the intimate interlude to an abrupt halt. Desiree’s eyes widened in horror and she pushed against his shoulders, until he moved off of her, then she jumped out of the bunk, retrieving her dress from the floor. Holding it before her, she turned in circles, looking for an escape while Stephen melted into laughter, watching her frantic performance.
