The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Molly (Book 3)

by Peggy Webb

  Molly braced herself. A part of her longed for the kiss; but the sane side fought the attraction for all she was worth.

  “I’m so glad you showed me how to act in polite Florence society.”

  He stared down at her for a second, and then suddenly he laughed.

  “Molly, do you think I’m so straitlaced that I never have any fun?”

  “I don’t know, Sam. Do you?”

  Until he’d met Molly, his life had consisted of work and responsibility and an occasional outing with a suitable woman. But fun? The fun had stopped when he was fifteen and his father abandoned the family.

  “I’ve had my share of fun, Venus. But there is a difference between fun and scandal.”

  “And you think I’m scandalous. Is that it?”

  She watched his face soften, but the change was so fleeting she had time for no more than a brief burst of hope.

  “You’re the most scandalous woman I’ve met since... in a long, long time. And quite frankly, I don’t want you as a member of this family.”

  His words hurt, but she didn’t let him see that.

  “I’m not too thrilled with you, either. But I’m willing to make the sacrifice for Daddy.”

  He felt like a cad for hurting her. In a rare moment of uncertainty, he just stood there, looking down at her. Finally, he reached out and put both hands gently on her shoulders.

  “Molly, let’s go back inside to the party. Please?”

  “Aren’t you afraid I’ll scandalize you?” she whispered.

  “You won’t have the chance.” Releasing her shoulders, he tucked her hand through his arms and started back toward the house. “I intend to keep you at my side for the rest of the evening.”

  “I can think of worse punishments.”

  “So can I.” He stopped in the rose garden and looked down at her. “Don’t tempt me, Molly.”

  “Sam, you’re the last man in the world I want to tempt.”

  Her declaration was heartfelt, and if he thought it was because she wasn’t attracted to him or didn’t even like him very much, that was fine with her. He need not know it was self-protection.

  With so much misunderstanding separating them, they went back inside to the party. Samuel worked through the crowd with the ease of a man who is very much at home in a social setting. Occasionally he risked letting go of Molly’s arm, but not often—especially not when he caught a wicked gleam in her eye. For the most part he kept one arm draped casually around her shoulders or wrapped possessively around her waist.

  Glory Ethel was the first to notice. Standing beside the punch bowl with Jedidiah, she watched her son with interest. He was more relaxed than she had seen him in a long, long time, and when he looked at Molly... Glory Ethel put her hand over her heart and sighed.

  Jed leaned close. “Did you say something, sweetheart?”

  She patted his hand. “No, dear. It was just a sigh of contentment.”

  “You are happy, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. For all of us.” She gazed across the room at Sam and Molly once more.

  “The children look happy. I just wish your daughter could have been here too.”

  “She’ll be at the wedding.”

  o0o

  The party broke up shortly before ten. Samuel kept Molly at his side until the last guest had departed. His mother and Jedidiah briefly passed their way to say goodnight. Then they went down the first floor hallway to separate bedrooms, thank God.

  “You can let go of my arm now.”

  Samuel had held on to Molly for so much of the night that it was no longer a conscious action on his part. He released her quickly, and was surprised at how empty his hand felt.

  “Right. The party’s over.”

  “And I didn’t do a thing socially unacceptable.”

  Guilt slashed him. “Molly, not only were you socially acceptable, you were extraordinarily charming. I think half the people who came are now fans of yours.”

  “You know, Samuel, you can be quite nice when you’re not trying so hard to be a bear.”

  “Is that what I am, Molly?”

  “Sometimes. A great big grizzly.” She touched his cheek so briefly he might have dreamed it. “But sometimes, you’re nothing but a big teddy bear.”

  His smile was bittersweet. “Then I’ll have to watch myself. I can’t be getting soft in my old age.”

  “Indeed not. You have your reputation to think of.” She withdrew her hand. “Good night, Samuel.”

  “Good night, Venus.”

  Watching her go up the stairs was an exercise in control. Where had she learned to walk like that? He felt like a fool standing there. Was he waiting for her to turn around? Waiting for her to blow him a kiss?

  He strode out the front door and got into his car. For the first time in years, he wished he weren’t driving a Rolls-Royce. He wished he had a Corvette convertible with the top down so he could see the stars over the Tennessee River.

  Across the river he turned up River Bluff and headed toward his private health club. Thank God he had a key and after-hour privileges. He parked outside underneath a hundred-year-old oak and let himself in. Jerking off his tie and jacket, he went straight to his locker.

  For the first time in his adult life, he didn’t bother to hang up his clothes. Tuxedo pants and shirt and coat and tie were strewn across the floor. He dressed quickly, pulling on the first pair of athletic shorts he could get his hands on.

  Taking his ball and racquet, he went straight to the racquetball court. He took careful aim and smashed the ball viciously against the wall. The sound echoed through the empty health club. Samuel drove himself, concentrating only on the ball and his target.

  Sweat poured off his brow and slicked his chest. After forty-five minutes of punishing activity, he sat down to catch his breath. Still, Molly came to his mind. He saw her in her kitchen with a tear on her cheek; he saw her under the magnolia tree with moonlight gilding her hair; he saw her laughing in the slatted swing with mud on her face.

  He dropped the racquet and took a deep, steadying breath. It was getting late, and tomorrow he had a bank to run. He didn’t have time to stand around the health club till midnight like some besotted fool—like Taylor Adams.

  He stalked over to his locker, jerking up his scattered clothes as he went. Then he climbed into his Rolls-Royce and headed back to the house on North Wood Avenue.

  The windows were all dark. At least no one would see him, sweaty and exhausted and out of sorts, climbing the stairs, dressed in his gym shorts and, for Pete’s sake, his tuxedo shirt. He didn’t know why he had felt it necessary to put on a shirt for the drive home. The streets were empty, anyhow. For that matter, he didn’t know why in the hell he hadn’t just gone back to his apartment.

  His steps slowed as he passed Molly’s bedroom door. For an insane moment he thought he smelled her fragrance. What had she called it? Night of a Thousand Splendors.

  Only a door separated them. All he had to do was put his hand on the doorknob and turn. She would be there, stretched out on his sister’s brass bed, her hair spread across the pillow, her long, lovely legs gleaming in the moonlight.

  The old wooden floor creaked as he took a step toward her door. What in the hell did he think Molly would do if he walked into her bedroom? Throw her arms around him and drag him into her bed?

  Shaking his head in disgust, he walked quickly down the hall to his own room. He didn’t bother to turn on the light. He knew every stick of furniture in the room and exactly where it was placed.

  Without turning, he tossed his tuxedo pants toward an easy chair.

  “Mfft.”

  Samuel whirled around at the sound. An apparition rose from the chair. One delicate hand gleamed in the moonlight as it reached up to push aside his tuxedo jacket. A familiar face came into view.

  “Molly! My God. What are you doing in my room?”

  “Waiting for you.” She tossed the jacket onto the chair with her right hand and untangled th
e trousers from her left. She took her time with his clothes, acting as serene as if she had come to his room for Sunday afternoon tea.

  “Why don’t you turn on the lights, Samuel?”

  “Is there any particular reason I should?”

  “I don’t like to work in the dark.”

  She was outlined by the pale strip of moonlight. He could see that she was still wearing the same dress she’d worn at the party.

  He sought to regain control by moving toward a floor lamp. “A pity. I do some of my best work in the dark.”

  He turned the switch, and lamplight illuminated her face. She didn’t look as much at ease as she sounded. That was good. He was in no condition to handle Molly in top form.

  He stepped out of the pool of light and watched her.

  “You’re not wearing trousers.”

  “Do I need pants for this game you’re playing, Molly?”

  “They would have been nice, but gym shorts will do.” She looked down at his legs. The tuxedo shirt completely covered his shorts. “You are wearing gym shorts, aren’t you?”

  “Why don’t you come over here and find out?”

  She caught her lower lip between her teeth and assessed him. She’d thought it would be easy. While she’d waited for him to return, she’d planned the whole thing. But she hadn’t counted on his being half dressed and looking as if he had already whipped sixteen mountain lions and was eager to whip sixteen more. Nor had she counted on her own feelings.

  The bed suddenly seemed larger. She hadn’t bargained on how she would feel in his bedroom - languid and flushed and excited and altogether in no condition to deal with Samuel standing there half naked.

  Fueled by determination, she started toward him.

  “You have the most wonderful ideas,” she said.

  “Has anyone ever told you how sexy your walk is?”

  “No.” She slowed for half a heartbeat.

  “They should have.”

  “Perhaps you need to give all my suitors lessons.”

  “I have a better idea.”

  “What?”

  “Come closer and I’ll show you.”

  Things weren’t working out the way she had planned. Samuel was supposed to be feeling trapped. He should be retreating. But she’d come too far to back out now. Plucking up her courage, she took the last few steps toward her target.

  “Why don’t you let me show you, Samuel?” She made her voice a sexy purr as she reached for his shirt.

  Samuel steeled himself against her touch. He would not let her see how close she was to being thrown across his bed.

  Her hands were working the top stud of his tuxedo shirt now. He had a decision to make. He could let her continue her game, or he could put a swift stop to it.

  He studied her. She was tense, ill at ease and uncertain. He was intrigued. What was she up to? Finding out would be amusing.

  Silently she removed the top stud from his shirt, taking great care not to make too much contact with his skin.

  Samuel tried not to smile.

  “Do you need some help, Molly?”

  Her eyes were wide as they swung up toward his.

  “No. I can handle this myself.” Her hands fumbled and she dropped a stud on the floor.

  “I can see that.”

  She ignored the barb and the stud on the floor. She’d show him who was boss. Taking a slow, ragged breath, she reached for the next stud. She could do it. It was just a matter of pretending.

  A trickle of sweat rolled between her breasts as she unfastened Samuel’s shirt. He was ominously silent. Why didn’t he say something? Why wasn’t he doing anything? She wanted to peek up to see if she could read his intentions on his face, but she dared not. Now that she was set on her course, she didn’t need anything to distract her.

  When all the studs were removed, she set them on the bedside table. Putting that small distance between herself and Samuel gave her time to recover.

  The room was silent except for the metallic sound of tuxedo studs pinging against wood. Molly took her time, gathering her courage to face Samuel again.

  “Your back presents a lovely view, Molly. Do you intend to stand beside my bed for the rest of the evening?”

  She whirled around to face him. He wasn’t laughing, but she could see the amusement dancing in his eyes.

  “No. I have other plans.”

  She marched bravely back across the room. His tuxedo shirt gleamed impossibly white in the lamplight, and where it gaped, she could see portions of his chest. Taking a deep breath, she caught the front of the shirt and pulled it open.

  Sweat sheened his skin and glistened on the dark hair that swirled across his chest. Slowly she pushed the shirt aside and put one hand on his chest. He felt damp and solid and electric. She had meant to be bold and to drive him wild with her caresses, but it took all her willpower to keep from jerking her hand back and running.

  His heart pulsed beneath her palm, and the sound of her own breathing was harsh in the room. Her hand trembled.

  Suddenly he chuckled. It was a deep sound of gratification.

  “That’s a great start, Venus. What next?”

  She tilted her head so she could look directly into his mocking eyes. She’d be darned if she’d let him get the best of her.

  “Do you really want to know, or shall I just show you?”

  “Surprise me, Venus. Show me.”

  “Don’t say you didn’t ask for this.” She slid his shirt down his shoulders, intending to toss it carelessly on the chair. Unfortunately the shirt didn’t cooperate. And neither did he. Samuel stood still while she struggled to get the sleeves over his hands.

  She was so flustered she wanted to kick something—mainly him.

  “I think you forgot the cuff links.”

  “What?”

  “The cuff links. They’re still in my shirt.”

  “I knew that. I was just testing to see if you did.”

  “Naturally.”

  He chuckled again. Laughter was his only defense. The minute she’d touched his bare chest, he’d been lost. He knew that if he reached for her now, if he caught her in his arms and captured those inviting lips, there would be no turning back. The web she was beginning to weave around his heart would become chain links, and he’d be bound to her forever.

  He watched intently as she removed his cuff links and put them on the bedside table. If he didn’t know better, he’d think that she had never done this before, that she had never gone to a man’s bedroom for the specific purpose of seducing him.

  Seduction. That was her game. And she seemed to be a novice at it. He was foolishly glad.

  When she came back to him she seemed calmer, more sure of herself. She slipped his shirt quickly from his shoulders and tossed it onto the chair; then she leaned down and kissed his bare chest, right over his heart.

  Shock waves washed over Samuel. There was a harsh sound, and he realized that he’d been the one to make it. It was a groan of pure animal longing. Quickly he brought himself back under control.

  “That’s not so bad for a beginner, Venus.”

  Her head jerked up. “How did you... I’m not a beginner.”

  “Prove it.”

  She stared at him for a full minute, and then she smiled. The smile dawned slowly, them widened until it dazzled him. He almost wished he could call back his challenge.

  Molly hooked one arm around his neck, while the other made slow circles on his chest.

  “How do you like your women, Samuel? Sweet and slow? Or fast and wicked?”

  “Are you giving me a choice? How refreshing.”

  “That’s part of my charm.”

  She dipped her head down and put her lips on the side of his throat. It was a sweet touch that made him shiver.

  Suddenly her tongue flicked out and moistened his skin. He instinctively reached for her. Warning bells sounded in his mind. His hand wavered and then withdrew. In his condition he couldn’t afford to touch her—n
ot even one hair on her head.

  He gazed down at that rich golden hair and he knew the pain of denial. Not gathering her to his heart caused an ache that was almost physical.

  “That was nice, Venus.”

  “Nice?”

  “If you expect effusive praise, you’ll have to do better than that.”

  “I plan to.” She took a deep breath. “Why don’t we move to a place that’s more comfortable?”

  “You’ll have to be specific, Molly. I’m new at this.”

  Darn his wretched hide, she thought. He was deliberately making this as difficult for her as possible.

  She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “The bed.”

  “You’ll have to speak up. I didn’t quite catch that.”

  “I said...the bed.”

  The words echoed around the room like a cannon shot. Samuel stifled his laughter.

  “That’s what I thought you said.” He started nonchalantly toward the bed, and then, as if it were an afterthought, he reached for her hand. “You might as well come, too, since this was your idea.”

  Anger was beginning to take the place of uncertainty. Molly had never seen a more arrogant man in her entire life. He deserved everything she planned to do to him.

  “I’ll be glad to, but it would be so much nicer if you would carry me.”

  Her sudden courage intrigued him. And he began to have his suspicions that this was more than a seduction.

  “I’m happy to oblige, my dear.” He swept her into his arms and deliberately pulled her hard against his chest. The move forced her head onto his shoulder. “Comfortable, Venus?”

  “Very.”

  He smiled. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “That’s what I love. A willing woman.”

  He strode toward the bed and lowered her to the mattress. She made a move to sit up, but he was faster. Catching her wrists, he brought them over her head and held her down. With one knee propped on the bed, he leaned close.

  “Changed your mind already, my sweet?”

  “No,” she whispered. “Have you?”

  He held her down a moment longer, studying her.

  “You were made to grace a man’s bed, Molly.” Abruptly he released her.

  Molly lay back against the pillows and placed her hands over her hammering heart.