A Scarlet Bride

by Sylvia McDaniel

  "It's delicious. I'm just not hungry."

  "Leona is an excellent cook. If only I could lure her away from you," Aunt Clara vowed.

  "Not a chance. That woman has been here since my mother hired her. I don't plan on losing her." He paused, his gaze lingering on Alexandra."In fact, all of the women in my house are safely protected."

  Aunt Clara laughed delightfully. "Oh, I think this marriage is going to work out splendidly. I'm looking forward to seeing little ones running around our homes again."

  "Aunt Clara!" Alexandra admonished, feeling as if her aunt was reading her thoughts as a blush crept up Alexandra's cheeks.

  "Well, it is possible, dear. Lord knows it would please your father. It could very well be the next time we see him."

  Connor raised his brows. "He doesn't visit often?"

  Alexandra shook her head. "As long as everything is arranged in a nice, neat order in his world, and everyone is going along with his plans, then he's happy. We will not hear from him until someone, or something, displeases him."

  "He's not very demonstrative or receptive to family," Aunt Clara said. "We might see him at Christmas. But probably not until we hear the sound of a baby crying. Then he'll come to see the newest member of his family and bring stock receipts in the child's name."

  "It is going to be a while before we see him then," Alexandra pronounced, looking towards her husband.

  "You never know," Aunt Clara said, a twinkle in her eye.

  Alexandra winced. So many of her past dreams seemed within her grasp if she would just give in to her desire. But could she finish her task, reveal Gordon in all his true nature, and be Connor's wife at the same time? More than anything, could she take the chance of risking her heart once again?

  "Let's move to the parlor and the ladies can have a cup of tea while we indulge in a brandy, Sydney,'' Connor said, bringing Alexandra back to the present as he pushed away from the table. He moved to assist his wife, pulling out her chair.

  Connor took her hand and placed it on the crook of his arm. A heated tremor went through her at his touch. She caught a whiff of his spicy cologne and glanced at his lips. She wanted to taste them again, to see if they could work the same magic as this afternoon, to feel his hands on her breasts again and experience the feelings only Connor aroused.

  "Is your headache any better, Sweet?'' he asked, gazing down into her eyes.

  "I'm all right," Alexandra replied, surprised he had inquired about her health, amazed at his gentleness.

  They walked into the parlor, and he sat her on one of the cherry love seats she had recently refurbished. Her aunt sat beside her."Your husband seems to be entranced with you, my dear. He's hardly been able to keep his eyes off you all night."

  Alexandra smiled. "Aunt Clara, you've always been a romantic. This marriage is nothing more than a union of convenience."

  "Dear, many marriages start that way, and quickly change into something much more. I daresay it would be something worth hoping for."

  "I don't know, Aunt Clara. I really don't know what I want anymore. Only a few months ago I was so sure of everything."

  Aunt Clara chuckled. "Just when you think you have life figured out, something changes and suddenly, you don't know what to do."

  "Did you love Uncle Sydney when you married him?"

  "Child, I thought I did, but it was not real love, only infatuation. The real love came when I realized that even with his faults he was a good man, one who would stand by me. And believe me, your Uncle Sydney has his good points and bad, just as we all do."

  Alexandra could not help but smile. "He certainly likes his cigars and brandy."

  "And horses and a good card game. I worry about his health. He's not as young as he used to be, but he thinks he can still do the same things now that he did at twenty."

  Connor cleared his throat."You ladies have your heads together whispering. Do tell us what is so fascinating."

  "Men. What else? You've kept women intrigued for centuries. Why should now be any different?'' Aunt Clara leaned back and spread her skirts, then reached for her cup of tea. "Now that you are in the family, Connor, you will find out how frightfully blunt I can be."

  Uncle Sydney shook his head. "She's right, Connor. The woman has a sharpedged tongue. But she's usually correct, especially when it comes to people."

  Alexandra watched the interplay between her aunt and uncle. They were comfortable with one another, yet certain glances passed between them. Sometimes teasing, sometimes reassuring, and sometimes a certain light would reflect from her uncle, and her aunt always seemed to respond with a smile that held promise.

  She could never remember her parents behaving like this. Her aunt and uncle had shown her the way a marriage should be, yet it was after her own failed attempt that she recognized love had been one of the many missing elements from her first union.

  Her aunt set her teacup down. "We really must be going, Alexandra, dear. The dinner was excellent, but I know you're not feeling well and your uncle always rises before our roosters even think about crowing."

  "I do not. I stay in bed until I hear Old Jim crow at least twice."

  "That's just so that Cook can get up and have your breakfast started. Otherwise you'd be up before him."

  Sydney grinned. "Sometimes I am."

  "You are an impossible man," her aunt retorted.

  Her uncle smiled. "At least I'm not boring."

  "Never boring, Sydney. But there are days I'd liked to try dull just once."

  ***

  After a long soak in a tub of hot water had eased her head and soothed her jagged nerves, Alexandra put on her silkiest nightgown and robe. Though she was tired, she felt restless—restless and edgy enough that she knew sleep would be delayed for hours.

  A sultry breeze blew in through the windows, billowing die drapes into a seductive dance with the wind. Lightning flashed in the eastern sky, heralding a storm somewhere over the ocean.

  Alexandra stood gazing out at the stars that filled the night sky, wondering what her mother would have said about her life. There were times when she wanted to sit down and talk with her mother. Ask her questions about life, marriage, and how she had dealt with her steely father.

  A knock sounded on her door, ending her reverie. "Yes?"

  "It's me," Connor said from the other side of the door. "May I come in?"

  Good Lord, the man had actually knocked. Maybe there was hope for his manners after all. She turned from the window, her heart tripping with anticipation. After this afternoon in the garden, she shouldn't let him in. But she wanted to. She needed to see him again. She needed to know if he was as affected by this afternoon's kiss as she was.

  "It's open," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

  He strolled into the room, his hands in the pockets of his robe. The material was barely held together by a fabric belt that was half looped over itself, covering his silk pajamas. His hair was damp, as if he'd just come from his bath. A span of muscle sprinkled with dark chest hair showed through the top half of his smoking jacket. The urge to run her hands across his naked skin was almost unbearable.

  "I thought I would check on you, see if your headache was any better," he said.

  "It's much better, thank you." She moved back to the window, her gaze returning to the night. "I was looking out at the stars. They remind me of a fine chandelier, the light twinkling off a crystal moon."

  Connor walked over and stood beside her gazing out into the night. "When I was a child, this room was my mother's, and I would come to her anytime I became frightened. We often sat in the dark, looking out at the stars."

  She glanced back at him. "Your mother died when you were quite young, didn't she?"

  "Mother died when Suzanne was born. I was twelve."

  Alexandra turned back to the window. "I still miss my mother and think of her often."

  "I still miss mine," he said, moving behind her.

  He wasn't touching her, but then, he didn't
have to. She could feel his presence. She could feel the heat radiating from his skin, and wanted to lean back into the warmth against his naked skin and be consumed by his fire.

  She ran her hands down her arms, clasping them under her breasts, which tingled with awareness. Since this afternoon in the garden, she had been restless and hungry. Hungry for his touch, his lips, and though it seemed entirely sexual, she knew it was more than lust. Much, much more.

  It was hard to ignore the man's obvious wit and charm. He made her laugh. He had protected her, defended her, and even tried to help her. It was more than anyone had ever done for her in her life, and she was going to repay him by bringing scandal down on his family and sullying the good name he had given her.

  "Your Uncle Sydney looked tired tonight. Is he feeling well?" Connor asked, bringing her back to the present.

  "I don't know. Aunt Clara told me the doctor has warned him to slow down."

  "For your Aunt Clara's sake, I hope he listens to the doctor. I like your aunt and uncle. They're a nice couple."

  "Aunt Clara is a hopeless romantic who tamed my rogue of an uncle." Alexandra laughed. "She told me tonight that she thinks you're enchanted with me."

  "What if she were right?"

  She turned and came facetoface with him. The blue of his eyes reminded her of cornflowers in the meadow on a clear summer day. They were mere inches apart. Close enough that she could see his chest rise and feel his breath whisper soft against her.

  All it would take was for her to reach out and touch him and she would be lost to the sensations Connor always evoked. Lost to the wonder of the one man who had singularly managed to alter her destiny once again.

  The question stunned her. She should walk away from him, but her legs would not move. It was as if she was transfixed. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid beat of her heart.

  "I don't know," she said. "I've never considered you caring for me. I'm just now getting used to thinking of the two of us together."

  He reached out and touched her, trailing his fingers along the curve of her jaw. She tilted her head to give him more access.

  His voice was deep and melodic. "It has been different, hasn't it? I don't know what I expected from marriage, but I was not prepared for this."

  Alexandra smiled. "Does that mean you like it, or not?"

  He took her chin in his hand and tilted her head back. "I like it very much. More than I ever expected."

  His lips came down and grazed hers in a gentle, quick kiss. The brush of his lips sent desire pulsing through her. She gazed up at him and saw the passion reflected in his hooded eyes. She saw the man who had spent the afternoon comforting her, had spent an afternoon playing in the surf with her, who had even been gracious when she beat him at chess. She saw a man who had given her more pleasure in one month of her life than she'd had in the previous six years. Connor was the person who made her laugh, held her when she cried.

  She saw the man she had vowed she would never be intimate with, and only knew that no matter what had happened in the past, she wanted him. She wanted him tonight.

  Tomorrow she would face the cold light of day, but now she wanted the man who had defended her, helped her, the man who had brought joy back into her life.

  She moved into his arms, and her mouth lifted up in eager anticipation of his sensual assault, surrender only a heartbeat away.

  Surprised at her sudden move, Connor hesitated, then kissed her again. But this time it was not a simple peck of lips. This time he poured his soul into his kiss, and all the pentup desire he'd kept dammed for the last month came flooding out. A moan resounded from the back of his throat as his lips sought and plundered hers. He felt like a drowning man going down for the final time as he pulled her close, her breasts crushed against his chest.

  Why did this woman affect him like none before her? How was it she had managed to get under his skin when none of the others had? He craved her touch like a man addicted to opium.

  She tasted of honey and sweetness, of passion and tangled sheets, and he wanted nothing more than to take her to bed and slip into her womanly sheath, to experience what he had craved from the first day they met.

  But he had changed since that first meeting. He no longer wanted just her body, just another conquest, but total and complete surrender to the passion he felt between them. He wanted her to come to him without hesitation, wanting him as much as he wanted her. Mindless sex would no longer suffice with this woman, his wife. He wanted her body and soul, her eager and willing. He wanted her like no other woman before her. Only Alexandra seemed to fill that emptiness inside him.

  He wrenched his lips away from hers, his breathing hard and fast. "Are you certain this is what you want?"

  "Kiss me again before I change my mind."

  Connor needed no further invitation. His lips eagerly sought hers as he swung her up in his arms and carried her to the Louis XV bed in the center of her room. The curtains billowed in the breeze, caressing Connor's skin as he lay Alexandra on the bed. He blew out the lamp, yanked off his robe, and climbed on the bed beside her. For a moment, he did nothing but run his hand through her hair and down her silken robe, unable to believe they were together in her bed. She gave a soft sigh of pleasure, her eyes half closed.

  She turned to face him, her hand reaching out tentatively to caress his cheek in the semidarkness. "It's been a long time and I never was very good at this."

  Connor put a finger to her lips. That was the past, he was the future. "You're only as good as your partner is willing to give. I plan on giving you the moon and the stars tonight."

  His lips closed over hers, silencing her reply. He sought the edges of her mouth, gently nipping her with his teeth until she opened for him. Like a starved man, his tongue swept the inside of her mouth, plundering and receiving pleasure beyond his dreams. She returned his kiss with an equal passion of her own, stunning him with the intensity.

  His hand slipped down to the sash of her robe. Slowly, he pushed the garment back, eager to unwrap the package before him. He moved down her body, trailing light kisses along her neck and shoulders, until he reached the valley between her breasts. Through the silk of her nightgown, he suckled at the slinky material clinging to her hardened nipple. She moaned a low, throaty noise as he slid the nightgown down to her waist.

  Moonlight glowed from her skin and he sucked in his breath at the sight of her naked breasts. Her skin was as white and soft as a newborn babe, her areolas a strawberry pink.

  Through the silk of her nightgown, his hand sought and caressed her womanly apex. The honey of her arousal was warm against his fingers. She arched upward against his hand, seeking fulfillment.

  "Oh, Connor," she whispered into the darkness.

  Lifting her up, he stripped the rest of her nightgown from her body. The sight of her naked flesh caused him to gasp with delight. She was more than he'd ever imagined. Her body must have been crafted by the angels to leave a man aching with desire. Quickly, he shed his pajama bottoms and slid next to his wife's satin skin. He was strength and hardness; she was softness and silk.

  They lay side by side, her breath a soft caress against his lips. He drank in the sight of her body next to his, and felt intoxicated with desire. Taking her hand, he moved it down his body until her fingers rested on the stem of his passion. Her fingertips ran over his maleness, touching the tip gingerly. He reached for the center of her being and as his fingers delved into her, while she stroked him. For every caress he gave to Alexandra, she returned one, until Connor felt as if he were ablaze. Every time she touched him, the heat of his need flamed anew until he wasn't sure who consumed whom.

  Finally, unable to stand the heat any longer, he rose above her on the bed and urged her legs apart. He plunged into her womanly sheath, into her welcome heat.

  Her hands clutched his back as he thrust into her, and she held onto him, giving as much as she received. Never before had he been given so much pleasure from a woman. Never before
had his heart reacted to a woman's soft cries of passion. Never before had he seen such innocence and sweetness in an experienced woman.

  Using every ounce of willpower he commanded, he was gentle and caring. With every ounce of strength, he withheld his own pleasure until he thought he would explode.

  She was heaven and she was hell. Heaven in that he wanted this to last forever, hell because he knew that with each stroke he came closer to release. Came closer to losing control of both his body and his soul.

  With a gasp of astonishment, she dug her nails into his back, clinging to him as she cried out his name. That was all Connor needed to send him over the edge. The sound of her crying out in pleasure sent him spiraling over the top, spilling his seed deep within her.

  He collapsed atop her, his mind whirling in a thousand directions. She had been tentative and shy with her caresses. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought he was with a woman who had little or no sexual experience.

  For several moments they simply lay there. Finally, when their breathing had returned to normal and Connor's heart was no longer racing, he rolled over and pulled her into his arms. Kissing the top of her head, he said, "Mrs. Manning, that was absolutely breathtaking."

  Alexandra sighed. "Incredible. I've never ..."

  Connor glanced at her in surprise. "You've never what?"

  She blushed and looked away. "Forget I said anything."

  He couldn't help but stare.

  Finally, she turned, reached up, and pulled his chin toward her. He read the confusion and fear in her eyes. She swallowed. "I'd much rather you be truthful than lie to me," she said. "Did I please you?"

  "Oh, honey. It was absolutely wonderful." He stroked her naked back. "What did Gordon do to make you doubt your abilities as a woman?"

  He felt her body tense, and wanted to curse his stupidity for bringing up the subject of Gordon in their bed. Why hadn't he waited?

  "Please don't talk of him tonight, Connor."

  She was right. He was the biggest fool. He wanted to kick himself for bringing up a painful subject immediately after making love with his wife for the first time. But he couldn't help it; he was curious.