by Nina Bruhns
"Here comes the music, darlin'."
Grasping her jaw in his hand, Beau shocked her senseless by taking her mouth in a deep kiss.
The noise of the crowd vanished. Her bones melted in her body, her blood thickened to the consistency of molasses. Even the music stopped, and for the life of her she couldn't tell if the band had quit playing or if it was just her mind emptying of everything except her need and want of Beau. When he finally ended the kiss, she was breathless. Breathless and giddy.
Before he let her go, he ran the tip of his tongue along her lips. Leaving his taste on her like a marker. So every time she licked them, she'd remember his mouth on hers. He wet her lower lip, the seam and corners, finally the delicate bow.
She had been good and properly claimed, and all she could do was stare up at him adoringly.
The crowd cheered. Beau's devilish smile caused her to shiver clear to her toes. Just wait till I get you alone, it said. Suddenly, the thought of dancing lost some of its appeal.
"Laissez les bons temps rouler," someone in the band shouted, and the music started up with a blare of fiddle and accordion.
"Shall we?"
Holding her scandalously close, he showed her the steps to the band's lively Cajun swing, and when she caught on, he whirled her out into the middle of the crowded floor. The energetic roadhouse dancers were nothing like the civilized denizens of the Wiltons' party the night before.
When the next tune was a more subdued waltz, she clung to him, his skin warm and moist against hers.
"My, my, my. Aren't we cozy?" A loud drawl pierced the comfortable shroud of smoke and music.
Beau's body stiffened and he slowed to a stop. "Hunter." Menace sparked in the bootlegger's eyes as he surveyed them. "I am sorely disappointed, Katherine. I see he's managed to con you, too, just like all his other women."
"Give it up, mon ami," Beau said, his voice redolent with warming.
"He won't be seen with you among his highbrow friends and snobby family at the Wiltons', but down here in the gutter at LeRoy's he's all over you like a fly on—"
"Chenier!"
"—sticky paper. I'd have thought a smart woman like you would see right through that game." He swaggered closer. "Ignore 'em for a night, and they'll fall right into your bed every time, eh, Beaulieux?"
Kit's heart squeezed as the meaning of his words sank in. Beau wouldn't have … couldn't possibly have…
"It won't work, Chenier. Kit knows better. You're just angry because she prefers me."
"You sure about that, good buddy?" Hunter listed to one side, his mouth fixed in a sneering grin. "Why, she was tellin' me just last night how sexy she thinks your cousin is. Or maybe you boys are sharin' her, like you did back in high school when y'all took so much pride in stealing my girlfriends away."
Beau's teeth clamped tightly. "I don't share my women, Chenier, and anything you lost, then or now, you did all on your own."
"How can you be so damn certain, Beaulieux? We read the newspapers. Everyone 'round here knows Remi's a thief." He snorted and wiped his mouth on a sleeve. "And as for Kit Colfax here…"
Hunter turned a triumphant expression on her, his handsome features distorted by long-festering rage, and pronounced, "Hell, she's only out to bag herself a rich, gullible husband. You think it was an accident her running into you in that poker game like that?"
Kit was speechless with indignation. The man was psychotic! Where did he get off talking like that?
Beau placed a restraining hand on her arm and glowered at Hunter. "You're drunk. Get out of here before I have to arrest you."
"For tellin' the truth?" he shot back.
Kit could feel Beau's muscles tense as he restrained himself from laying hands on the man.
"You've taken pleasure in humiliating me all my life, Beaulieux," Hunter spat out. "Grinding my face in my family's bad luck and your undeserved success. I'd say a little turnabout's fair play, non?"
"You're craz—"
"What's the matter, Beau? Don't like admitting your cousin's a felon and your girlfriend's a whore—"
There was a huge gasp from the crowd that had gathered. Kit didn't quite know what happened after that. One second, Hunter was standing there smirking, and the next he was on the floor unconscious, blood pouring from his nose, Beau looming over him, shaking out his fist.
For a moment there was dead silence. Even the band was lined up onstage gawking at the vignette below. Suddenly, all hell broke loose. Hoots and cheers echoed through the roadhouse. The throng pressed in, loudly expressing its approval for Beau's surprising action.
"He's had it coming for years."
"Can't believe it took you this long."
"Deserved it and more, insultin' your family and your woman like that."
"Don't worry, Chief, we didn't see a thing."
Some one thrust a shot of bourbon into Beau's hand and one into hers, too. "Kit Colfax? Now, wasn't there some ol' legend about a Kit Colfax doin' somethin' orruther out at Terrebeau?"
"Something like that." Beau downed his bourbon in a swallow and grabbed her elbow. "Come on. I gotta get out of here. Take care of him, would you?" he directed the bartender.
"Sure thing, Beau," the man said with a grin. "Don't start any fires now, hear?"
"Unbelievable," Beau muttered, stalking across the parking lot toward the car so fast, Kit could hardly keep up with him. "Did you see that? I actually hit a man in there." He shook his head in disgust. "I could have killed him."
She wasn't sure he was expressing the shocking possibility of murdering someone or voicing regret over not having done it.
"Beau, nobody blames you."
"I blame me. I'm the law here. I should've known better."
He braced his hands on the frame of the convertible, his knuckles white even in the dim parking lot. "There's no excuse for violence. None."
Kit's heart melted. This man was so honorable, he was cussing himself out for punching a rival who had sorely tested him his entire life. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Beau. After all, you were defending your family. And me."
He pulled her into his arms and groaned. "Ah, chère. I could take all his accusations and lies. But when he started in on you—hell, I just lost it."
She beamed up at him. "My hero." Tenderly, she placed a kiss on his lips.
A reluctant smile crept over his face, and she felt his muscles begin to relax. "Think so, eh?"
"Oh, yes." She nestled into his warm embrace. "Isn't this the part where the hero carries the rescued maiden away to his castle to make mad, incredibly passionate love to her?"
"Mmm." He hugged her tight, nuzzling her ear. "Don't know what fairy tales you've been reading, but they sound a whole lot more interesting than the stuff I read."
"Let's make our own fairy tale," she whispered, and his mouth captured hers. She could feel the tension leave his body, only to be replaced by a different kind.
He kissed her long and hard, his pelvis grinding slow circles into hers. They had made love twice, not more than an hour ago, but by the time he let her up for air, she was hot and wet and ready to strip off his jeans and make him take her right there on the front seat of the Eldo.
"Oh, baby doll." His lips covered her face with kisses. "Let's find us a blanket and a moonlit meadow."
It sounded incredibly romantic. In the car she pressed up against him, kissing him, touching him, driving him insane as he drove. She tortured his earlobe with her tongue, rubbing her breasts provocatively over his biceps as she did so.
"Take off your top," he urged.
"You first," she teased back.
He chuckled richly. "Hey, no problem." In a motion, his undershirt was on the back seat. "Your turn, city girl."
A wicked case of naughtiness overcame her better judgment. She didn't even want to think about what would happen if they were stopped or got in an accident. On the other hand, if you were going to get caught driving down the road half-naked, you might as well be with the c
hief of police.
She slipped the Verdigris P.D. T-shirt over her head.
He glanced over and hungrily eyed her breasts, barely covered by wisps of silk and lace. "You. Viens ici."
She gave her head a little shake and scooted back against her door, taunting him with a flirty smile. Letting him look his fill but not touch. The shadowed ridge beneath his zipper leaped and she felt a surge of raw feminine power. She wet her lips and leaned her head back so her hair whipped in the wind, reveling in the picture she was creating for him.
The car came to a screeching halt on the land behind the plantation house, at the edge of a beautiful expanse of grass and wildflowers, bordered on one side by the orchard.
Beau cut the engine and shut off the headlights. She could barely see his face across the dark expanse of front seat, but what she saw thrilled her to the quick.
His eyes were hooded, gleaming with the reflection of a million brilliant stars. A black wash of day-old growth covered his square jaw and the slashing angles of his cheekbones. His broad, bare torso expanded and contracted with labored breath. She shivered, and it wasn't because she was cold.
"Viens." He tapped the seat next to him. "Ici."
She bit her bottom lip and wondered what he'd do if she refused. Her pulse kicked up as she shook her head. "Uh-uh."
Subtly, she moved so her breasts were spotlighted in a patchy ray of moonlight that shone through the orchard branches. His eyes latched on to them.
"You want me to come get you … don't you?"
She nodded.
His gaze lifted and his mouth curved up in the devil's own smile. "Start running."
Her eyes widened. She let out a nervous laugh and her whole body flamed. "Catch me if you can, Beaulieux." She flipped open the car door and bolted across the thick carpet of dew-laden grass toward the trees.
And she heard Beau's deep, roguish laugh quickly closing the distance.
* * *
Chapter 16
« ^ »
Beau's hands reached out, grasped her waist, wrested her to a spinning stop. "Gotcha."
"Oh, yeah?" Struggling to escape, she let out a laughter-filled screech. It was cut off by his mouth covering hers. Thoughts of getting away vanished.
"Oh, yeah."
They fell at each other, kissing wildly. Tearing at snaps and zippers. Parting for a microsecond to kick off their tangled jeans. She pulled his off, about to cast them aside. "Wait!" he said, and quickly dug into the back pocket.
His jeans hit the grass. She landed on them, Beau on top of her, both of them breathless, taking up the kiss where they'd left off.
The long, fragrant grass tickled her thighs as she spread them. Beneath her hips she felt the rough scrape of denim. Damp, velvet earth cushioned her shoulders. A bright splash of stars spilled across the inky sky above them.
Nothing else mattered. Only her need to feel the man she loved filling her, deep inside.
He thrust into her. She moved eagerly with his urgent rhythm, but after a few strokes, his body wrenched to a halt.
"Too fast. Way too fast."
"Please don't stop. I need you so much!"
No man had ever made her feel this way before. This agonizing need to be with him, to be touched by him. To be loved by him.
Lord, she loved this man.
In a swift motion, he withdrew from her and rolled, pulling her on top of him. "Show me now how much you need me."
His strong hands deftly guided her until she was mounted firmly on the hard column of his manhood. "This much," she whispered, snugging down to the hilt.
A dark rumble of surrender came from Beau's chest. A smile eased onto his face as his lids drooped in mindless enjoyment. She'd do her best to keep that look of total abandon right there where it belonged. It wasn't often—if ever—Beau let someone else take control of any aspect of his life, and she wanted him to reap the benefits of his rare trust. In spades.
She raised her hips, sliding off him to the very tip.
"Good?" she crooned in his ear, giving the lobe a bite as she slipped back onto him.
"Ah, chère." He groaned low from his belly. "So damn good."
His body shuddered under her and she felt a crashing wave of desire for the man who gave himself so completely. She squeezed her muscles and gave him another slow shag, teasing them both with an agonizing taste of bliss. Lowering her torso, she brushed the pebbled tips of her breasts over his chest.
"Witchy woman," he groaned, gripping her hips with his fingers.
Across the field of midnight green, low, needy sounds echoed and sighed. Eyes closed, she was lost in the taste and smell of him, the feel of his thickness filling her. The hot, visceral pulse deep between her thighs. The love burning her to the very core of her soul. She opened her eyes.
His eyes were black, burning embers, the emotion in them searing in its intensity. His fingers clamped onto her and suddenly she was suspended above him, joined by only a breathless fraction of an inch. His gaze bored into her.
"You are mine."
"Only yours."
Speaking the vow, for a split second she questioned her chosen path. Would it really be so bad to marry and settle down with this incredible man?
"For always." He held her body captive, just as he held her life in his grasp. He, unwilling to let her go, she, unable to let herself be taken completely.
"For as long as you want me."
"Now I want a kiss," he whispered in a voice rough as the tear of raw silk. "I want to taste you."
She swallowed heavily, her body aching with her need for release. But he held her with a steel grip, denying her even the smallest movement.
The sensual curve of his full lips beckoned. She lowered her mouth to his. She flicked her tongue over the succulent plump of flesh, urging him to open to her. He did, his warm moan fanning her moisture-beaded face. She pressed her mouth onto his and drank deeply of him, tasting the sweet promise of the future.
Still he held her immobile, his open mouth the only avenue of relief he allowed her.
She took it. Low moans tore from his mouth as she sucked and played with his tongue. His trembling grasp on her hips slipped and she slid a precious inch.
They froze, staring heatedly into each other's eyes, poised on the tremulous fringe of oblivion. He released her lower body and stabbed his fingers through her hair, tightening his hold on her scalp.
"Ride me," he growled. "Ride me hard and don't stop." She didn't think it was possible for a man to get any hotter or harder, but in that second she swore he did. She let herself glide down the satin length of him, down, down to the very root of his pulsing sex.
"Oh, Beau," she said. "Hold me tight."
Winding her fingers around his muscular shoulders, she slid up him and came down hard. His eyes glazed, his hands fisted in her hair. She repeated the movement again. And again. He pulled her head down, devouring her mouth as she rode him, their sweat-slickened bodies dancing a furious rhythm. They clung to each other, twining and twisting so she didn't know where he began or she ended.
She panted and trembled, cursed and loved this man who was able to bring her to such incredible ecstasy. A burning, shuddering heat ripped through her.
"Don't slow down," he urged, withholding his release, taking her higher and higher, with hot, erotic words murmured in his smoky Southern drawl.
In a flash fire of splintering light, she collapsed in his arms. Deftly, he rolled her under him without missing a beat and gave three more powerful thrusts. His back went stiff and he roared out her name before collapsing himself.
* * *
Have mercy.
Beau groaned and tried to disentangle himself from Kit, afraid he was squashing her. She just clung tighter. He smiled. Most women couldn't wait to rid themselves of a man's weight after lovemaking. Not Kit. She seemed to relish it. So did he.
He gathered her close, whispering in her ear. "I'm afraid I'm pressing you like a seed into the soil."
&nbs
p; Not a bad idea. Plant her here on Terrebeau where she could thrive and bloom, and never leave him. Which was just what he intended to do, as soon as possible.
"If anyone got pounded into the dirt, it's you," she returned, opening slumberous eyes. "I fear it'll take hours of scrubbing to get the grass stains off your posterior."
"I look forward to your efforts," he said gallantly, softly brushing a weed from her hair. "Sorry I forgot about the blanket. Guess I got distracted."
She kissed him, a sweet, tender kiss. "I wouldn't have changed a thing. The grass and flowers, the stars and the fireflies, you—it was all so perfect. I loved everything about it. Everything."
"Me, too," he whispered, returning her kiss. "Especially you." He kissed her again and felt himself stir inside her. With a groan, he withdrew. "But we'd better stop before we end up fulfilling the family legend."
At her puzzled expression, he rolled off her and sat up. "I don't have any more protection with me. And this is the self-same meadow where my ancestor made her noble sacrifice."
"Really?" Kit glanced around. "Right here?"
"Mmm-hmm. Captain Colfax's tent was moved away from the rest of the troop, which was camped behind the house. Not that it did any good, I understand."
"How's that?"
He cleared his throat and grinned. "The sounds of their lovemaking… Well, apparently Simone shocked the entire household by enjoying herself. Quite vocally."
Kit laughed, sitting up. "Good for her." Then she added, "Simone? Simone Beaulieux and Kit Colfax? You're kidding, right?"
"Now you know why everyone is so surprised by the coincidence."
"Good grief. But what's this about fulfilling the legend?"
"When Kit died, keeping his promise to protect Terrebeau, Simone was so distraught she begged the other Yankee battalion to shoot her, too. Of course, they didn't, but they did spare the house because they were so moved by her pleas. At his funeral, the witchy woman predicted Kit Colfax would come back to save Terrebeau from fire again. Simone never married, just watched in this meadow for his return, convinced he would show up."
"There's more, isn't there?" Kit prompted.
He gave her a tender look. "Yeah. The woman said next time she would get pregnant, and the descendants of that baby would be masters of Terrebeau forever." He winked. "Superstitious?"
