Heaven Sent

by Duncan, Alice

  But she nodded. “Yes, Aubrey. I’m sure.”

  He shut his eyes for a moment and thanked God for bringing Callie Prophet into his life. She might be irritating. She might drive him crazy. She might be as different from Anne as the day was from the night, but he sensed in that moment that she was his salvation.

  Dramatic, he told himself. Too dramatic. But he couldn’t suppress the feeling. He walked up to her and drew her close. “I’ll be gentle, Callie.”

  “I know you will,” she whispered.

  Aubrey wasn’t surprised by how well she fit into his embrace. Ever since Becky’s birthday party, he’d been longing to hold her again. And he’d wanted to taste her. He did so now, covering her mouth gently with his own and caressing it, nuzzling it. He felt her relax inch by inch, until her body was molded against his.

  His arousal was heavy and powerful and urgent, but he refused to hurry. Callie was saving his life; he owed it to her to be careful.

  Her lips had softened under his, and she opened them willingly when he tasted them with his tongue. Slowly, carefully, he allowed his tongue to explore her mouth. She tasted wonderful. He recognized the faint taste of mint. She must use mint and soda when she brushed her teeth. Anne used to do that.

  Dash it, he had to stop thinking about Anne! It would spoil everything if he started to feel guilty. It had been Anne who had urged him to remarry, he reminded himself almost desperately.

  Fearing his mind would start working and ruin the moment, Aubrey deepened the kiss and pressed more urgently against Callie. He hoped to God his stiff sex wouldn’t alarm her. Surely, she understood the basics of how men and women went about consummating a union. She was twenty-four years old, too old to be silly and impressionable. She wasn’t a flighty adolescent, but a mature woman.

  “Come to bed, Callie,” he said urgently. “Come to bed with me now.”

  She obliged, leaning on him for support as he walked her to the big four-poster bed he’d shared with Anne until the last year of her life, when she’d had to sleep alone because of the pain.

  “I-I’ve never done this before,” she told him unnecessarily.

  “I know, sweetheart. I know.” Her confession, whispered and sounding as if she considered herself lacking somehow because she was inexperienced in sexual matters, touched him deeply. He lifted her up and sat her on the edge of the bed, then put his arms around her again, feeling a swell of tenderness toward her.

  He kissed her warmly and passionately, longing to lose himself and his sadness in her. He wished he could tell her he loved her, but of course he couldn’t. He loved Anne.

  She returned his kiss with an eagerness he hadn’t anticipated. Her arms tightened around him, and he had a feeling she’d just surrendered everything to him and that she was now clinging to him for dear life—and trusting him with her essence.

  It was a heady feeling, and Aubrey reacted strongly. Pushing her back onto the bed, he joined her there, pressing her into the covers and kissing her hard. “God, I want you.” His voice sounded ragged to his ears.

  “I want you, too,” she whispered. “I love you.”

  The last three words were so soft, Aubrey wasn’t sure he’d heard them. They rattled him for an instant before he realized he’d misunderstood her. He wasn’t sure what she’d said, but he was positive it hadn’t been a declaration of love.

  Because he didn’t want to get confused, he reached to thrust her robe aside. A smile touched his lips when he saw that he hadn’t revealed much by the rash act. The flannel nightgown she wore was serviceable and perhaps even pretty, since it had tiny pink rosebuds embroidered around the high neck, but it was absolutely modest.

  “How,” he asked with humor, “does this thing come off?”

  She smiled up at him. His heart turned a. back flip and went all soft and mushy. “I’ll do it.”

  And she did. As he watched, she sat up, reached to the back of her nightgown and pulled something. The garment slid down her shoulders. His eyes grew large when the fabric caught on her breasts. He’d ached to touch her breasts. To see them. To weigh them in his hands. He reached with those hands now, and gently slid the flannel aside.

  There was little light in his room, but he thought he saw her swallow. She might have been blushing; he couldn’t tell. “You’re beautiful, Callie. Beautiful.” He dragged his vest off and threw it aside. He heard it land somewhere, but bad no notion where.

  She murmured something that might have been thanks. Aubrey’s ears were roaring from the blood coursing through his veins. He was so strongly aroused, his condition was almost painful. Gently, he lowered Callie to the bed and kissed her, deeply and thoroughly. He felt the tension flow out of her. Her arms went around his neck, and she held him tightly.

  Life. For the first time in more than a year, Aubrey felt fully alive, thanks to Callie. She gasped when he drew his mouth from hers, and she gasped again when he feathered light, caressing kisses over her body,

  She had a spectacular body. She was both taller and meatier than Anne had been. Aubrey didn’t feel that he had to be as careful with Callie as he’d been with Anne, who’d been fragile and delicate. Not Callie. Callie was robust. There wasn’t any fat on her, but there was lots of flesh. Soft flesh. Warm flesh. Beautiful flesh. Arousing flesh.

  Aubrey felt every inch of it. And Callie reacted to his touch as no woman ever had. Soft moans and gasps told him how much she appreciated his efforts. Not that they were entirely on her behalf. He couldn’t have stopped himself if he’d wanted to, which he didn’t. Nor did he try.

  He aimed to marry this woman. What did it matter if they consummated the matter beforehand? Not a whit. Thank God, thank God.

  Callie’s fingers, shaking as if with a palsy, lifted to his shirt buttons. “May I?” she whispered, as if she feared she was being too bold.

  She couldn’t possibly be too bold for Aubrey. He needed this, he needed her, and he needed her boldness. “Please do,” he whispered back, his voice gone low and scratchy.

  So she did. As soon as she’d finished unbuttoning his shirt, he shrugged it off and tossed it in the general direction of his vest, wherever that was. “I’ll get rid of these,” he said, reaching for the buttons to his trousers. His sex pressed against the buttons, impeding his progress, and he grew impatient. “Damnation.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She sounded worried, so he smiled down at her. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m eager, is all.”

  “Oh.” She smiled back.

  She had a pretty, saucy smile, and Aubrey liked it a lot. He liked her a lot, if it came to that, and his admiration rather surprised him. Callie was so different from Anne, they might be different species altogether. Yet he could appreciate both of them.

  In a desperate hurry now—offhand, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this aroused—Aubrey shoved his trousers down. His erection was so hard, it was difficult for him to bend over and remove his shoes and stockings and trousers, but he did it. And then he was free.

  He fairly bounded back to lie beside Callie. When he took her naked body into his arms, she felt stiffer than she had before. His passion was so high, it took him an instant or two to realize she’d been staring with horror at his aroused manhood.

  Damnation. He’d forgotten she wasn’t used to this sort of thing. If she backed out now, he’d die; he knew it. “Don’t be afraid, Callie.” He tried to pitch his voice to a soothing timbre, but was afraid his desperation edged in. “It might hurt this time, but it will never hurt again. I promise you. Don’t be afraid,” he begged.

  “I—I’m not afraid,” she said. Aubrey figured she’d just lied to him, but he didn’t mention it.

  “Not really afraid, I mean.”

  “Good.” He’d take her meaning as spoken; then. Trying to restrain his lust, he kissed her softly but deeply, hoping to feel her tension ease, as it had before.

  No such luck. Nevertheless, she did relax a little bit, and Aubrey blessed her for it. Take i
t easy, he commanded him- self. Don’t go too fast. She’s a virgin. He had to remember she was a virgin, or he might be rough. He wasn’t accustomed to being able to be free to fondle and sexually tussle with a woman, Anne having been so delicate and all. He didn’t want to hurt Callie because of his exuberance.

  It occurred to him that it might be nice to have an exuberant sexual partner to wrestle with for the rest of his life. Pleasant, even.

  But he didn’t want to think about that now.

  Aubrey was feeling more impatient by the second. If they didn’t get on with this pretty soon, he’d explode. With that aim in mind, he caressed her hips and fondled her thighs and quickly made his way to the mop of dark blond curls between her legs. She gasped again when he covered her hidden treasure.

  “I won’t hurt you, Callie,” he growled desperately. “I promise I won’t hurt you.” Not after this time, anyway.

  “I know you won’t, Aubrey.” She took the initiative this time and kissed him.

  Taking that as a good sign, Aubrey dipped a linger between the soft petals of her femininity She arched like a bowstring. He’d never witnessed so strong a reaction to his lovemaking. She was already wet, too. And hot. Thrilled by her passionate reaction, he kissed her deeply and gently as he plied his fingers. She bucked like a horse under his ministrations and gasped with astonishment. He pulled his mouth away from hers so he could watch her face.

  “Aubrey!” His name was a quiet shriek. Her eyes were huge, and she looked to him as if she were in the throes of some kind of alien emotion. He was beginning to feel pretty good about this. Anne had never demonstrated such overt evidence of her pleasure, although she claimed to enjoy the marriage act. Callie’s pleasure was obvious.

  “It’s all right, Callie. This is what it’s all about.”

  “My God.” She lifted the back of her hand to her mouth and pressed hard, Aubrey presumed to catch any other errant screams.

  Her face and its changing expressions fascinated him. No prim miss, Callie. Not a bit of it. It was as if she couldn’t help herself, and Aubrey found himself reacting with real satisfaction that was a part of, but different from, the sexual satisfaction he was experiencing of this; their first sexual union.

  She was, in short, a pure joy to watch. She was a pure joy to be with. Marriage to Callie Prophet wouldn’t be a hardship at all, if this was going to be a part of it.

  When her climax came, Aubrey was almost as shocked as Callie. She grabbed his shoulders and screamed, “Aubrey!” Fortunately, the walls of his house were thick and her scream was partially muffled because the upper part of her body lifted off the bed and her face was buried against his chest.

  It was more than Aubrey could take. Before her spasms of pleasure had subsided, he’d pressed her back against the bedclothes and guided his shaft to her wet, tight passage. With a shove, he was inside her—and Callie went perfectly still.

  “Oh,” she said in a sort of gasp.

  Aubrey was holding himself back with all the strength he possessed. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, he gritted his teeth, and he held himself rigidly away from her with his arms. He wasn’t going to disgrace himself by spilling his seed instantly. Granted, it had been a long time since he’d made love to anyone; still, he owed it to his masculine pride to take more than a second or two in achieving his own satisfaction.

  After a couple of moments, he dared open his eyes. Callie stared up at him, her eyes gone round, and all traces of pleasure vanished from her face. Damn. In spite of his promises, he’d hurt her.

  “I’m sorry, Callie. It won’t happen again.”

  “Oh,” she said again.

  Ah, to hell with it. Aubrey gave up on his pride, and everything else in the universe. He needed this more than he’d ever needed anything.

  Taking the time to lean over and kiss her hard, he relaxed his arms and moved within her. He’d never felt anything like it. What’s more, she moved with him. He couldn’t recall ever having a woman react like this. Callie’s body relaxed into his and Aubrey gave her a moment to adjust to the feel of him inside before he started moving again. He didn’t want her to be in pain, but he was getting to the point where he couldn’t restrain himself anymore.

  He pumped, in and out. Harder and faster. Lord, Lord, Lord, it felt so good. Never had it felt so good. Never.

  With a harsh cry, he hurtled over the edge, pumping his seed into her body.. His climax seemed to last forever. Spasm after spasm racked him.

  It was, bar none, the best sexual experience of his life.

  He barely managed to stop himself from collapsing on top of her and smothering her with his weight. With his last ounce of energy, Aubrey sank to her side, still buried deep inside her. He never wanted to pull himself out. He took her with him, so that they lay face-to-face. He threw a leg around her to hold her there. He couldn’t bear to lose her yet.

  “Callie,” he murmured, feeling proud of himself that he’d formed the word and even prouder that he’d said it aloud. He hadn’t thought himself capable of speech.

  “Aubrey,” she said back. She quietly cleared her throat.

  “I—ah—didn’t know it would be like that.”

  He cranked an eye open. She looked solemn. Aubrey wasn’t sure that was a good sign. Although he didn’t want to, he reached within himself and discovered the wherewithal to speak. “It won’t be painful again, I promise.” There. That was good. Ease her worries. He allowed his eyes to drift closed again.

  “It wasn’t the pain part that I didn’t expect,” she said after a moment of silence.

  He cranked the other eye open this time. “No?” He really, really didn’t want to chat right now. He wanted to sleep. This was the first time in at least two years when he felt utterly drained. He knew he’d be able to sleep deeply and dreamlessly now. Thanks to Callie’s generosity in allowing him this intimacy before they were married.

  Recalling her generosity allowed Aubrey to summon an ounce or two of strength, and he told himself he could stay awake and reassure her, whatever this chattiness on her part betokened.

  “No.” He saw her swallow. “Before the pain. That’s the part I hadn’t anticipated.”

  Vanity swelled in Aubrey’s chest unexpectedly. He opened both eyes and grinned. “Did you enjoy it?” She had. He knew she had.

  “Oh, yes.” She swallowed again. “Oh, yes, Aubrey. Very much.”

  “Good.” Satisfaction spread over him like a warm blanket.

  “Good. I’m glad. So did I.” He pulled her closer, shut his eyes, and went blissfully to sleep.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Callie wasn’t altogether sure what had just happened. Oh, she knew she and Aubrey had made love. But she hadn’t known it would be like that.

  Good Lord, she’d completely lost her mind for a moment or two. The physical anticipation she’d experienced under Aubrey’s relentless and expert ministrations had been almost unbearable, and then ecstasy had swept her clean out of herself and into another realm.

  It’s a good thing no one told little girls and boys about this sort of thing, or the human race would be completely out of control. Why, people would rut like animals.

  She glanced over at Aubrey’s sleeping form. He’d been very sweet, too. He hadn’t tried to rush her or hurry her, and he’d been gentle. The pain had shocked her, a little bit when he’d first entered her, but that was only because she’d still been tingling with the aftereffects of sexual satisfaction.

  And then they’d been joined together as one. Tears sprang unexpectedly to Callie’s eyes. She loved him so much. She wished he could love her, but she understood now, as she hadn’t when she’d first come to live here, that a love like the one Anne and he had shared didn’t come along often.

  She’d marry him now, of course. He was too honorable not to renew his proposal after tonight. The notion of being wed to Aubrey, of being Becky’s honest-to-God mother, and of being mistress of this grand property—and that amazing townhouse in San Franci
sco—washed over her. Oh, she’d like being married to Aubrey! She’d love it.

  Guilt slammed into her so hard and so fast that she gasped, causing Aubrey to mutter something in his sleep. She brushed hair away from his eyes and thought about what she must do. She couldn’t marry him without admitting that she’d been surreptitiously reading his private correspondence to his late wife for months now.

  “Oh, Lord.” Callie wished she’d had enough courage to make her confession earlier in their relationship, before things became so entangled. He might be miffed.

  Very well. He’d almost certainly be miffed. Furious, even, It was bad enough that she’d read the letters in the first place. That she’d continued to do so went far beyond the pale. She ought to have gently explained to Becky that it was impolite to read other people’s letters, and immediately taken the whole bundle, without looking at even one of them, and handed them over.

  She hadn’t done that, and now she had to face the consequences of her deceit.

  Was deceit too strong a word? As she lay there, her body in a state of boneless satisfaction and her mind racing, Callie came to the glum conclusion that deceit was far from too strong a word. If anything, it was too mild for what she’d been doing.

  Blast. Why should something that ought to have been wonderful in every way be spoiled?

  Because she’d not been honest, was why.

  Callie just hated it when honesty got in the way of a good pout.

  But she was tired—exhausted, even—and sated with physical pleasure, and she loved the man who’d taken her to such unexpected heights of passion, and she was going to marry him. She was, in short, both happy and worn out, and eventually her brain ceased to torment her, and she went to sleep.

  She awoke with a start when light poured into the room. Blinking into the light, she saw Aubrey standing at the window. He wore a beautiful burgundy robe and matching slippers, and he’d just pulled back the curtain. Now he smiled at her from the window, backlit by the sun, his tousled hair making him appear charmingly informal and entirely too handsome.