Bewitching Kisses (Bewitching Kisses Series)

by RainyKirkland

Her violet eyes paused in thought, then sparkled as her imagination took hold. Her lips hovered a breath from his. "I would have smoothed away the heartache." Her voice was husky with passion as the tip of her tongue reached out to trace the faint lines at the corners of his mouth.

  He struggled to let her maintain the pace, for he could feel the joy that radiated from her, even as his own body screamed for release. "Is that all?" he demanded. "Would you tempt me and then offer no sustenance?" His gaze dropped to the rounded peaks of her breast pressing against her gown.

  Looking up, he again watched her cheeks bloom with color. His palms rested on her bare thighs and she offered no protest when they slid slowly up and around the curve of her hip to her ribs, taking the gown with it. Their eyes met in question and he felt her breath lock in her chest as she reached down between them, then pulled the gown over her head.

  Completely naked, Sarah sat as one made of stone, astonished she could display herself so wantonly before him. He loves you, her heart counseled gently, and although she could feel her flesh grow hot from his gaze, she made no move to cover herself. Let him find me pleasing, she wished silently. Let me share my love with him.

  Nick reached for the gift she offered, and his hands gently covered her. Her eyes grew misty as he caressed her flesh, molding and stroking. And when he leaned forward to capture her nipple with his lips, he felt her arch closer and his sanity fled.

  Sarah flopped back over his arm as Nick suckled at her breast. The gentle tug of his lips sent circles of rapture rippling through her, and when he drank deeper, she felt she might die from the pleasure of it. Ecstasy filler her, surrounding her with soft cries of delight until she floated in a sea of warmth.

  Nick watched her struggle to open her eyes and her smile sent arrows of passion straight to his heart. Holding her close, he tumbled backward with her, luxuriating in the soft curtain of hair that fell about his neck and face. Her skin was flushed, her eyes filled with promise, and Nick could wait no more. Within the blink of an eye she was beneath him. His knee pressed high at the juncture of her thighs, and tenderly he gathered her close.

  "It won't hurt this time," he promised, caressing her gently, arousing her pliant flesh.

  Sarah pressed kisses along his shoulder and jaw. "It wouldn't matter if it did."

  His lips met hers, open, wet, and wonderful. He tasted of power and sorrow and she drank it all. She gasped when she felt him enter, but her flesh was ready and her heart accepted him. Willingly she surrounded him with her love.

  Nick sank into her and felt he had surely died and reached heaven. Her velvety muscles sheathed and caressed him and her quiet sigh of acceptance sent him soaring. Moving gently, he wedged his hand between them, then watched her through hazy eyes as her body arched in triumph and she reached the stars.

  Sarah shuddered in the aftermath of passion. She hadn't been prepared for the intensity of his love. Never had she felt so cherished. Her eyes met his, then grew wide as she realized he still rested within her.

  Nick laughed at her stunned expression and rocked her close.

  "I thought it was over," she whispered as if sharing some great secret, then blushed bewitchingly. "I don't really have much experience with this sort of thing."

  He flexed his body and watched her eyes glaze over. "I wouldn’t think so," he teased. "But if you're tired, we could always stop."

  Fearful he'd do just that, Sarah shifted and locked her legs around his waist. "I'm not tired at all," she said, her voice shivering with pleasure.

  Nick's breath caught in his throat as her muscles gripped him tighter and then he was moving with her in the motion older than time itself. Higher and higher he took her until her cry of release triggered his own.

  Reluctant to move but fearing he would crush her, Nick rolled to his back taking her with him. She felt so fragile. Her head rested on his shoulder, her arm draped limply across his chest, and their legs entwined. His mind spun about in all directions trying to decide which thought to follow first, but reasoning was hard to find with her flesh still quivering against him. He hadn't known a woman could make him weak. And the realization did not sit easy. She shivered, and he untangled the sheet to cover them.

  Sarah snuggled closer. Nick had wrapped her in love so soft and compelling, that her eyes refused to open. She felt his hands gently rub her back, and it seemed perfectly reasonable to spend the rest of her life in his arms. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized he had yet to say the actual words, but her heart was too content to care.

  Nick knew by her even breathing that she slept, and his arms tightened instinctively. How was it that she was so different? He wondered. He had had his share of ladies, but none had touched his heart like Sarah. She had given joy as well as passion, and his body still ached in want of her. He rubbed his chin on the top of her head and considered waking her with kisses, but remained content to simply hold her. You've brought peace to my life, he thought. How am I ever going to be able to face the day when you are gone?

  Chapter Twenty

  Snug and content, Sarah counted the deep, resonant chimes from the hall clock, but as the eighth chime echoed through the house she jerked upright, and her eyes darted about the darkened room in confusion.

  A hand glided up her bare spine and gently kneaded the back of her neck. "Is something amiss?" Nick's deep rich voice turned her flesh to jelly.

  Clutching the blanket to her chest, Sarah looked back at him. His head still rested on the pillow they had shared and his smile was doing strange things to her insides.

  " 'Tis eight o'clock," she gasped, noticing for the first time how effective the heavy draperies were at blocking the sunlight.

  "Yes, I imagine it is."His hand smoothed down the tangles of her hair, luxuriating in the heavy weight of it and the glimpse of porcelain flesh it revealed.

  "But we're still in bed." Her voice held disbelief, and his smile deepened.

  "We certainly are." Tugging her hair gently, Nick pulled until she flopped back to her place on his shoulder, her soft curves molding perfectly to the hard planes of his body.

  "Nick . . ." Her hand rested on his heart and her voice was a velvet purr. " 'Tis way past morning. We can't stay in bed. There is too much to do."

  Nick tipped her face up for his kiss. "You are right, as usual." His touch was feather-light as he traced the soft fullness of her lips, then his mouth closed hungrily over hers. Their legs entwined, caressing, enticing, and heartbeats grew faster. "As for me," he nibbled her bottom lip. "I think I shall start right here."

  Sarah pressed closer to the heat of his body. "I think it's going to be a long morning," she sighed against his throat as he stoked the flames of passion higher.

  Nick flipped them both over and saw the undisguised love that filled her violet eyes. "A very, very long morning." Then capturing her lips, he sealed his promise.

  Sarah floated down the stairs in a ray of sunlight to find Wadsworth standing at the bottom.

  "Mr. Beaumont is waiting for you in the dining room, miss." The butler's tone was formal, but the knowing smile in his eyes undid her. Despite her resolve, Sarah felt her cheeks grow hot.

  "Thank you, Wadsworth," she stammered, trying to hide her discomfort.

  "And, Miss Sarah . . ." She watched in amazement as his rigid face broke into a rich smile. "Might I say how glad we all are to have you home again?"

  Embarrassment drained away to be instantly replaced with deep contentment. "Thank you, Wadsworth." Her voice was filled with gratitude. "It truly does feel like home."

  Still smiling Sarah joined Nick in the dining room. The warmth in his eyes echoed in his voice.

  "Did you sleep well?" he asked, grinning.

  The rosy blush on her cheeks turned a darker hue, but her eyes met his squarely. " 'Twas the best night abed I've had in weeks." She moved to her chair and smiled over her shoulder. "And I hope to repeat it often."

  Nick's rich laughter filled the dining room. How she had changed,
he mused. Her polite reserve had all but vanished and the bewitching smiles she sent his way were making his blood boil.

  Although the hands of the clock had long passed noon, they had yet to finish their meal when Wadsworth entered.

  "Sir, Mr. Webster has arrived."

  Reluctantly Nick wiped his mouth, then tossed his napkin on the table. "Show the man to my study and offer him some refreshment, Wadsworth. You can say that I'll be along directly." He reached for Sarah's hand, letting his thumb rub against the sensitive flesh of her inner wrist. "Webster has brought Gran's will," he explained. "I already know the contents, so this is just a formality that I thought best to have over and done with." Nick rose and helped Sarah from her chair. "I shouldn't be long. Why don't you wait for me in the garden?"

  Sarah smiled and, checking to be sure the butler was no longer about, rose up on her tiptoes to lace a fleeting kiss against his lips.

  Nick sighed in frustration as his arm clamped about her waist. "Did I teach you nothing last night?That was not a kiss. This is a kiss." His hand cradled the back of her head, and his lips stole the very breath from her body. Both were shaken when it ended. Sarah kept her arms locked around his neck, and her eyes sparkled with mischief.

  "I think I need more practice," she whispered. "Sometimes, when I'm slow to catch on, it helps if I do it over and over until I get it right."

  Nick eased her from his arms, knowing if he did not do so immediately, he'd carry her off to his room again. "You're a temptress, Miss Townsend. Get thee to the garden before I toss up your skirts and take you here and now."

  Sarah sidestepped quickly from his reach and laughed with pleasure. "Don't be too long."

  Nick entered his study and his good mood fled. Mangus Webster stood deep in conversation with Michael Danvers. "What the devil are you doing here?" Nick snapped at Danvers. "You no longer have any business with either my company or myself."

  "Nick . . ." Mangus hastily stepped forward and extended his hand. "Danvers is here because I asked him to be. It seems there is a new version of your grandmother's will."

  Nick's eyes mirrored his displeasure as he sat behind his desk and motioned for the attorneys to be seated. "Now, just what is this ridiculous story of yours, Danvers?"

  Sarah strolled the well-tended paths that wound behind the house. The roses swayed softly in the gentle breeze, lending their fragrance to nature's heady perfume. She took the clippers from her basket and plucked several tight buds of the palest pink. Surrounded by the delicate baby's breath that already filled her basket, she thought they would be the perfect complement for the black vase that stood in the hall. But as she turned to retrace her steps to the house, the wind tugged at her skirts and she looked up to find the sky full of angry black clouds.

  "Miss Sarah!" Wadsworth waved to catch her attention, then holding his coat against the growing wind, quickly covered the path to reach her. "Mr. Beaumont wishes you to join him in the study if you would." He took the basket of flowers from her arm and scowled at the darkening sky.

  Sarah clutched at her skirts as the wind plastered them to her legs. "I think we're in for a good dousing." Her words were punctuated by fat raindrops that dotted the brick path. Running the last few steps, she and the aging butler reached the back porch just as the sky opened in earnest. Sarah laughed and shook the moisture from her hair. "Oh, Wadsworth," she sighed. "Don't you just love the fresh smell of a summer rain?"

  But Wadsworth wasn't smiling. " 'Taint no ordinary rain, Miss Sarah. Look . . ." His thin arm raised and pointed toward the carriage house. Above the roof hung the blackest clouds Sarah had ever seen. Wadsworth set down the basket of flowers. "I don't know why," he said, "But whenever the storm comes from that direction," he nodded toward the back of the property, "It's a fierce one. And the way it came up so sudden like, I'll wager more than a few shingles will be missing by morning."

  Sarah shivered, for the wind now carried a sharp bite, and the image of Gracie Richardson's dilapidated shack had sprung to mind. She doubted it could withstand much abuse from the weather. The rains came harder, and within seconds the carriage house was obliterated from view.

  "I'd better see to the upstairs windows." Wadsworth pulled open the back door. "And Mr. Beaumont is waiting for you in the study."

  She nodded and picked up her basket but made no move to join him in the doorway. "You go on, I'll just be a minute." Sarah turned her attention back to the growing storm and took a deep breath of the moisture-filled air. It was alive with energy, she could feel it in her bones. The hair on her arms prickled and she felt the power of nature close at hand.

  "In truth we do need the rain, Father," she whispered. "But I think this might be a tad too much." Lightning flashed, filling the darkened sky with terror, and Sarah jumped and laughed with a start as thunder crashed around her. "Send as much rain as you wish," she shouted above the howling wind. "Just don't be angry when it's not appreciated."

  Slipping into the house, Sarah tidied her hair, but avoided the looking glass in the hallway. She knocked lightly then entered the study as the three men rose to greet her.

  She smiled, crossing the room to the attorney with her hand extended. "Mr. Danvers, how nice to see you again," she said.

  The man's expression was more smirk than smile and, releasing his hand, Sarah turned to Nick. " 'Tis raining something fierce. You wished to see me?"

  Nick's eyes had grown as dark as the storm-filled sky, but he gestured for her to sit. "This is Mangus Webster, my attorney. It seems you already know Danvers. He is an acquaintance of yours?"

  Sarah's brow wrinkled in confusion at the tone in his voice. She took a chair on the opposite side of the desk. "We met here in this very room. Do you not remember?"

  " 'Tis of no importance," Nick brushed her words aside, and turned to the older attorney. "She's here now, Webster, so let's get on with it."

  Mangus Webster straightened his crimson waistcoat over his wide belly and stood. Wire-rimmed glasses perched low on his nose, and his wig was elaborate with chestnut curls that fell in great coils about his shoulders. "I understand you spent a great deal of time with Mrs. Beaumont before she died. Is that correct?"

  Sarah turned to Nick but found him scowling at Danvers, who leaned insolently against the mantel. "That's right," she said, returning her gaze to Webster. "I lived with Mrs. Beaumont for several weeks."

  "And are you aware that Mrs. Beaumont wrote a codicil to her existing will?"

  "No," Sarah said, shifting nervously. She could feel Nick's impatience from across the room.

  Danvers straightened and withdrew a folded document from his coat pocket. As his voice droned on, Sarah's eyes moved from man to man. Webster paced nervously, and, despite the chill that had claimed the room, wiped perspiration from his ruddy forehead. Danvers, who stood by the cold fireplace as he read, resembled a fox amid a flock of sheep. Only Nick seemed completely unmoved by his grandmother's newest edict. Reclined in his chair, his chin rested on steepled fingers.

  Lightning flashed, followed by an ominous roll of thunder, and Sarah felt the house absorb the impact of the storm. Suddenly she remembered all too clearly the first night she had been in the room . . . cold, soaked, petrified. Her skin turned clammy, and she wished the men would leave so she could return to the security of Nick's arms. She suppressed a shiver, and clenched her hands tightly together in her lap. Perhaps Wadsworth would take it into his head to serve hot cider and not that vile dark coffee Nick was so fond of.

  "So you see," Danvers taunted. "Your grandmother left you not a penny. I guess the old woman just didn't like you, Beaumont."

  Sarah heard only the last sentence and her eyes flashed with anger. "How dare you make such a statement?" she snapped.

  Nick's smile turned dangerous. He rose to his feet and gained the satisfaction of watching Danvers hastily step backward. "It's all right Sarah," Nick said, his voice held none of the tension that coursed through his veins.

  "So you can see, Miss To
wnsend," Webster cleared his voice, "you are a very wealthy woman."

  Sarah's eyes flashed with impatience. "Whatever do you mean?"

  "You now own all of Mrs. Agatha Beaumont's possessions," Danvers sneered, looking at Nick. "As of this moment you own half of Beaumont Shipping."

  Sarah flopped back on her chair as the strength of her anger drained away. "I don't believe it. What cruel hoax are you trying to play –"

  "It is no hoax," Webster interrupted. "I've checked the signatures. This document is completely in order."

  "But Beaumont Shipping belongs to Mr. Beaumont," Sarah said.

  Nick circled the desk and took her hand in his. "And will again, darling," he said smoothly. "As soon as we are married, the business will revert back to me."

  Sarah felt her heart beat so loudly she wondered if the others could hear. "Married?" she stammered, almost afraid to hope for such a miracle.

  "Married?" Danvers gasped. He had known the will stipulated marriage in order for Nick to reclaim the business, but he had hoped for more outrage. Surely the man wasn't going to let himself become shackled to an indentured servant. Where was the anger at being so manipulated? Beaumont's temper was legendary, yet now he blithely accepted marriage to a servant. Disappointment marred Danvers's features as he watched Webster refold the document.

  "Married," Nick said pleasantly. "Today, if possible. Mangus, do you think you could get a special dispensation that would allow us to forgo the posting of banns?"

  Relieved that Nick had accepted the news so well, the older attorney cleared his throat. Nick had a nasty temper that he himself had witnessed on more than one occasion, and he in no way wanted it turned in his direction. "A good attorney always tries to anticipate his clients' needs, Mr. Beaumont. And when I learned of the new will this morning, I took it upon myself to speak with both the magistrates and the minister. The courts are aware of your fine standing in the community and the reverend Jeffers was also more than willing to comply. If you wish, I can arrange for the ceremony to take place at my office this evening."