Moon Dreams

by Patricia Rice

  “Aye, you have responsibilities, lass, and that child you carry is one of them. I’ll have the carpet moved in the morning.” Rory knew better than to allow her to distract him. He had to feel he held some semblance of control—otherwise, things could get amazingly out of hand when Alyson was around.

  Alyson eyed the pressed tailoring of his good velvet coat and changed the subject. “I don’t think you should wrinkle your good coat and vest by sleeping in them.”

  Rory’s confidence rose as he gazed upon the tumble of his wife’s silken curls and read the challenge in her eyes. One wrong move might easily land him shivering on the cold, hard floor, but he had ever enjoyed a challenge. The prize to be won if he played this game fairly was worth the effort of minding the rules, if only he knew what they were.

  Alyson dropped her blanket and helped pull off his coat as he shrugged out of it. He stood and hung it over a chair, then slid off the long vest beneath it. Folding that over the coat, he returned to the bed in shirt and breeches, not daring so much as to loosen his jabot or remove his stockings for fear of unsettling the balance between them.

  Freed from the cumbersome coat, he lay back against the pillow, propping his hands behind his head as he gazed up into Alyson’s fathomless eyes. She appeared puzzled as to what to do next, but if he went slowly, he would have a lifetime in which to teach her. He let his gaze drift over the fullness of her bosom, concealed beneath the modest shift, to the thickening of her waist, where their child grew.

  “Dougall tells me Myra is an experienced midwife. I had it in mind to ask them to stay awhile.” Rory took the reins of the conversation, leading it in the direction he wanted.

  Alyson glanced down to her belly, her cheeks reddened, and she slid beneath the covers, bumping against his legs on top of the covers. It had been a long time since they had been this close, but the sensation had not dimmed with time. If anything, his need for her had only grown stronger.

  “I think I would like that,” she responded uncertainly. “But who would sail the Witch?”

  “Do not concern yourself over those matters, lass. I want to hear of the child. Does he rest well? Does he give you trouble? I know you did not want this burden. I would make the time easier for you if I could.”

  Tears formed in her eyes. “I have wanted so much to speak of the child. I thought you did not want it.”

  Rory closed his eyes and wished the Almighty would smite him now. “I want this child as much as I want you, dear heart, more than I want air to breathe or sun to shine. I just did not think you wanted me.”

  She frowned and turned on her side so she could study him. “I cannot believe fancy words any longer. Do you truly wish to hear of the babe?”

  Afraid to make even the slightest move toward her, Rory strained for patience. Beating his head against a wall would not help, so he nodded.

  “It just feels so very strange,” she murmured, continuing as if he’d made no desperate declaration. “I sleep too much, and the oddest things make me cry. And he grows so quickly, I fear soon I will not fit in a single gown.”

  It took every ounce of his strength not to reach out and pull her to him. Rory squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on the subtle fragrance that was Alyson’s own, on the warmth of her slight body next to his. Nothing could alleviate the growing pressure in his loins, but he knew Alyson’s thoughts were not yet turned in that direction. He feared they might never be again, but he wouldn’t give up trying.

  “I will buy new gowns for you every month, if you wish, dear heart. You will be beautiful in all of them. I just don’t want you to hate me for what I did out of foolishness.”

  “We acted out of lust and not love,” she whispered sadly. “I’d promised myself not to do so again.” Alyson caressed the bulge of her belly, then lifted her hand to loosen Rory’s jabot. “I was angry with you, but I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. Perhaps I’ll never understand what you expect from me, but I’m not unhappy. I’m even growing used to the idea of a baby, if I just wasn’t so frightened by it. I’ve never even held a baby before.”

  Rory caught her fingers and pressed them to his lips. Her every word tore at his soul. For fifteen years he had built a protective armor against the world, and she was ripping it into shreds as if it were made of the rottenest of fabric.

  “Alyson, my love, I would give all I own and am to have done this differently or to make it easier for you. I am as terrified as you. I’ve never been responsible for taking care of a life as precious as yours. To add to that the needs of a wee bairn . . . It scares me witless. But then I think of all the others who have done it through the ages, and I know the two of us can do it, even in our ignorance, if we learn to help each other.”

  Without apparent thought, Alyson began toying with the soft feathering of curls beneath his shirt. “I had thought you fearless. It seems odd to think of such a strong man fearing a defenseless babe. You will be a good father, I think, if you can only learn to stay home a little. Will you ever do that, or will you always be restless to be off elsewhere?”

  Astounded at this train of thought, Rory wrenched his mind away from the pleasant sensation of her bare hand against his flesh. “Lass, if I had my choice, I’d never set foot from my own ground again. I’ve had enough of traveling homeless. I want to sit by my own fire with my wife at my side and my children at my feet. That is my dream, though I’ll be the first to admit it is far from being accomplished. Perhaps it is but a moon dream.”

  Alyson pushed up on her elbow to lean over him. Her long hair fell across his chest and shoulders, and Rory caught strands of it between his fingers as she spoke.

  “For a man who wishes never to leave home, you certainly spend little of it there. I scarcely see you except to pass you in the hall upon occasion. Your children will think you a stranger if that is all they know of you.”

  Your children. He liked the sound of that. He liked even better the way she leaned over him so he could see the full orbs of her breasts behind the loose neck of her shift. The urgings of his loins made it exceedingly difficult to think, but he had made too much progress to abandon restraint now.

  Knowing he made impossible promises when his dreams were of a home owned by another man, Rory spoke as if dreams could come true. “Lass, if you had any idea what you are doing to me now, you would know why I cannot stay in the same room with you for more than the space of a minute. And since no other woman but you suits my needs, I must keep busy elsewhere to keep my hands as well as my mind off you. Should the time come when you no longer fear my touch, you would soon be praying for a moment’s peace.”

  Apparently realizing what she was doing, Alyson retreated. Rory’s hand rose to keep her from retreating, but then he determinedly returned it behind his head.

  “You stay away because of me?” she asked in puzzlement. “Why? Did I not tell you I was willing to be your wife?”

  Rory tried to control his breathing. She had not moved far. He could still reach over and press her against his side. He just had to learn to control his natural instincts.

  “Alyson, I have seen how you flinch when I reach out, how you avoid me when we are in the same room. I have no intention of ever hitting you again, but I do not know how to make you understand that. I do not want a victim for my lust, but a warm and willing woman who shares my needs and desires.”

  He had never been so blunt before, and Alyson regarded him with curiosity. “I thought you resented having to marry me. The pink canary is much more beautiful than I. How can you still desire me even when I am fat and garbed in ugly woolens all the time?”

  Rory laughed ruefully. “Alyson, dear heart, you need only use your lovely eyes to see how much I desire you. I am near to bursting with need for my fat, ugly wife. It has been this way since I first set eyes on you. If I remember correctly, you were wrapped in a hideous cloak that smelled of the stables that day, but I would have gladly taken you to my bed even then. I forced you to marry me because I did not think I
could live without you. I knew better than to cage a wild thing, but I possessed so little and wanted so much, I convinced myself you’d be safer with me than in the wild.”

  As he spoke, Alyson’s gaze dropped to the bulge pushing at the tight cloth of his breeches. She knew what waited behind that flap of cloth, and her cheeks flamed crimson. She could not forget the harm he had caused, but the beautiful times before that took precedence. Memories of warm summer nights when they had lain naked together in a narrow bunk, learning the pleasures of their bodies, came back unbidden. Unthinkingly, she touched him there, and his response stirred a deep excitement, a temptation she remembered embarrassingly well.

  She lifted her eyes to Rory’s as her hand tested the promise of his words. She stroked harder and he gave an involuntary shudder. The smoldering intensity of his gaze became a blaze that lit wildfires everywhere it touched. He wanted her, but he would not take her, even though her touch caused him to tremble with need. She had never realized the power she held over him. Stunned, she did not push away, but neither had she the knowledge to go further.

  Rory spoke softly, giving her time to think. “Wreak your vengeance as you will, lass, but remember I have suffered for my error too. I berated myself at the time for not killing you quickly to prevent your suffering at the hands of pirates. My only consolation since has been that in my cowardice, I did not, because selfishly, I wanted to know you were still in my world.”

  She heard the torment behind this confession. Vaguely she understood he had thought to protect her by rendering her unconscious, but she would worry over the intricacies of his mind later. The need to hold him was much stronger, although fear could not be completely eradicated. She experimented by rising to meet Rory’s lips with her own.

  He tasted of whisky. His lips were like fire, searing her with their brand, and she could not tear away. Her hands flew to his shoulders for support. The probing caress of his tongue drew her into the rings of flame. He lifted no hand to pressure her, but his passionate response burned away her resistance.

  She surrendered to the need, parting her lips until their breaths mixed, and he was caressing her deep inside, arousing a need she had denied for too long. The need grew wilder beneath the heat of his kiss, but still he did not touch her. Alyson slid her hands over his shoulders, stroked the straining muscles of his neck as he held her mouth captive, ran her fingers through his hair, but he made no move to caress her. She wanted his hands on her breasts, against her flesh, telling her what she needed to know, but she did not know how to tell him.

  Daringly, as their kiss deepened and Rory groaned against her mouth, she ran her hand downward, finding the length of him, spreading her fingers to stroke him there. He jerked spasmodically, pressing into her palm, but still he did not take her in his arms. His kiss grew greedier, more demanding, until she felt he would steal her breath away, but he would not force her in any way. With fumbling fingers, Alyson began to unfasten the buttons that would release him.

  As her cool fingers brushed his burning flesh, Rory smothered a groan of relief. He choked on a laugh as she reacted with startlement at the eager response of his uncovered parts.

  “Perhaps you should bind me hand and foot so I cannot do anything you do not wish me to do.”

  There was laughter in his voice, and, relieved, Alyson eyed his hands gallantly held behind his head. Shyly she admitted, “I am not at all certain what I would do with myself then.” He had given her complete power over him, but she had no idea yet how to wield it.

  Softly he said, “Then think of what you would do with me. Strike me, if you like. I certainly deserve that and more, but I have no intention of giving you other ideas than that, lass. I’ll take whatever you mete out, but I prefer pleasure to pain.”

  “So do I. Show me how.” Alyson stroked him, exploring with her fingers, feeling his body tense beneath hers. In the short time they had been intimate before, she had never been so brave, but she was filled with curiosity now.

  Rory closed his eyes and murmured, “Unless you wish me to remain bound, we’ll have to do something about the breeches, lass. They’re damned confining.”

  Alyson eagerly applied herself to the task of peeling off his breeches, rolling them over his narrow hips when he lifted them from the bed, then rolling down his stockings so she could find the knee buttons and unfasten them. She could feel the male part of him rubbing against her breasts as she pulled the fabric downward, and that produced inexplicable urges she found hard to resist. When she hesitated, Rory sat up to assist her.

  Suddenly desirous to see him naked, Alyson knelt and unfastened his long shirt. She fumbled at the ties over his broad chest until Rory caught her hand, pressing it against his chest, then raising it to his lips to draw gently on her fingertips.

  When her gaze fled uncertainly to his, he suggested, “I’ll take it off if you will remove yours.”

  The low rumble of his voice sent shivers down her spine, and she responded without question. As he finished the workings of his lace-cuffed shirt, she slid her shift over her head.

  For a moment they just looked at each other’s nakedness through the shadows thrown by the dying fire. Gently Rory lifted her breast in his palm. She smiled, giving him permission for more. He slid his arm around her waist and drew her closer, touching, exploring her. His rough hand caressed her skin until she quivered. Then, gently, he leaned back against the pillows and pulled her down with him.

  Alyson snaked her bare legs over Rory’s rough ones, pressed her breasts against his wide chest, and gave a sigh of delight as his hand cupped her bottom and settled her against his hip. She did not have to do anything yet but enjoy the sensation of Rory’s flesh against hers. She needed time to reacquaint herself with the strength rippling beneath her hands with his every move. She knew that strength could hold her powerless, but he was using it now to keep himself in check. That knowledge stirred much more primitive urges than fear.

  She kissed the bearded plane of his cheek. Then, avoiding Rory’s attempt to capture her mouth, she kissed his ear and from thence down his neck. She felt as well as heard his growl as she pressed her lips at the base of his throat. His arm tightened deliciously around her waist as he fought the urge to take over. To Alyson’s delight, he allowed her to continue unmolested as she explored the male body that had so neatly trapped her own.

  When she came to the masculine part of him straining for attention, she hesitated. Modesty had prevented exploration here in the first days of their lovemaking, but her rounding belly was reason enough to shed modesty. He had planted his babe inside her, and she had a need to know more about this miracle. The first tentative touches elicited a moan from her victim as Rory buried his hands in her hair. The need to exercise her new power gave Alyson confidence to carry her kisses to the limit.

  Rory trembled at the touch of her tongue, and, grasping her hair tighter, he pulled her away. “Lass, I am but a man, and if you keep that up, you’ll learn more than you wish of a man’s ways. Come here, and let me pleasure you.”

  With the taste and smell of him filling her senses, Alyson went willingly into his arms. Her body sprawled along his as his fingers played along her skin, lighting fires everywhere they touched, until she squirmed against him for relief. His fingers teased her breasts to aching points. She needed more, and urgently she moved against him.

  Unable to hold back any longer, Rory lifted her hips and guided them to his own.

  Alyson cried out at the sweet bliss of this joining, sinking deeper until he filled and stretched her with excruciating pleasure. All patience fled, they moved quickly together, seeking that release they had found before, needing the reaffirmation of this physical bond. With cries of joy, they discovered new heights, and clinging to each other, fell from the cliffs with dizzying delight.

  All too aware of Alyson’s fragility, Rory reined in his hungry impatience for more, satisfying his greed with kisses. Fearing to let her go, he held her in his arms, and rolled over to th
e mattress. He held her next to him, not wanting this magic moment to escape as all his dreams always had.

  Alyson burrowed against his shoulder, kissing wherever she could reach. At the telltale signs of his arousal rising against her belly, Alyson giggled.

  Pressing a kiss to her forehead before pinching her delightful bottom, Rory growled, “You laugh? Is that what you think of me?”

  Alyson raised her arms to circle his neck. “You would think us the newlyweds instead of Dougall and his bride. Shouldn’t an old married couple suppress their ardor?” She moved suggestively against him, indicating her awareness of his state.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Will you make me regret my confession of weakness?” Rory surrendered to the twin temptations pressed against him, circling first one erect tip and then the other, until she squirmed with delight. “Or will you realize it works both ways?” he whispered.

  “I already know that it works both ways,” Alyson murmured as she took him between her thighs. “I just want to know what you will do when I’m too large to mount.”

  “Wait until the brat comes out to join us, and contemplate planting another, of course. But there’s time enough to worry about that. All I want now is to know that I’ll be welcome here every night for the rest of our lives.” His hand slid to the sensitive juncture of her legs, making his meaning plain. He had little enough to offer her but the pleasure of their bodies. For now, he hoped that was enough.

  “Was there ever any doubt, my lord? Perhaps for you it is different, but I can give myself only once. You will find it difficult to be rid of me now.”

  Rory caressed her hair and bent to burn her lips with his kiss before easing into her a second time. As Alyson closed tightly around him, he laid her back against the bed and sank deeper into her welcoming body.

  “Aye, lass, you may regret your choice, but there will be no separating us now. You’re a Maclean now, and a Maclean never gives up his own.”