she moaned. “You have known for so very long. Just open
your memories and let them guide you.”
His words were confusing, yet seemed to make
complete sense. She reached into her mind for those places
she had not dared to explore, the very deepest and oldest
memories she had.
“What is that Arabic word you spoke?” he asked.
“Mahbjb.”
“Beloved?”
“Yes. Do you want to learn more of my first language?”
“Your native tongue?” He chuckled and framed her
face with both hands. “Let me feel your native tongue
against mine.”
She curved her hand around his nape. Breathing
deeply of the hot, smothering closeness of the room,
although it should not be so with the breeze beyond the
temple, she paid no attention to the oddity. All she wanted
was to discover the heat within him. His auburn hair sifted
over her fingers as she steered his mouth toward hers.
Tugging her tight to him, he slowly, methodically,
explored every inch of her lips. The tip of his tongue teased
the corners which tilted upward in a delighted smile. When
they softened beneath his sensual assault, he tested the
slick planes of her mouth, leaving a liquid fire in his wake.
When he sat once more on the floor, he pulled on her
hand. She shook her head, but put her finger to his lips
before he could ask the question glowing in his eyes. She
plucked the pins from her hair to send it cascading along
her back in a river as ebony as the Nile on a moonless
night.
He tugged her down to him and pressed her back
against the floor. His mouth over hers revealed his fervid
longing, and she let it flow into her, leaving her with an
excruciating need that even his kisses could not satisfy.
When his hand curved up over her breast, teasing its very
tip, her fingers stroked his back, loosening his shirt beneath
his sedate coat. She slipped her hands up beneath it,
delighting in his warm skin.
He shrugged off his coat even while his mouth
continued to scatter kisses across her face and along her
neck. As his lips reached the top of her prim blouse, he
undid the buttons with a speed that suggested he had waited
too long for this moment. His tongue delved into the hollow
between her breasts, and she knew she had waited too long
as well for this splendor, so lusciously uncharted and yet
so familiar.
She gasped at the rapture blazing from the moist fire
along her skin. As he had branded her heart with a craving
for him, his fervent kisses were claiming every inch of
her. It took all her strength to pull away from him enough
to reach for the hook at the back of her skirt. A quick
motion loosened it and sent her dark skirt swirling like a
sun-chased shadow across the floor. As she stepped out of
its black puddle, she slowly began to undo the remaining
buttons on her lacy blouse.
Her eyes watched his follow every motion of her
fingers while she unbuttoned her blouse. She could sense
each breath he took, fast, shallow, eager. Delighting in the
hunger in his gaze, she smiled. Several buttons still
remained closed when she raised her arm to undo the pearl
buttons at her left wrist.
With a growl, he grasped her waist and brought her
down beside him once more. Pressing her back against
his hard arm, he whispered, “Leave some of the pleasure
for me. I’ve waited for this moment.”
He undid the last buttons and drew her blouse off. As
he gazed down at her lacy undergarments, she reached up
and loosened his shirt. She wished they wore far fewer
clothes because she wanted to be against him, skin to skin.
When he lifted her pendant over her head and placed
it atop her notebook, she said, “But I’ve always worn that.”
“In the past, but this moment is just for this moment.
I don’t want to share it with the past.”
She looked up as he did at the clouds of light glowing
near the ceiling. Had the colors become brighter, or was
the day growing darker? She lowered her eyes to discover
his gaze waiting to enfold her. With a breathless whisper
of his name, she followed her longing back into his arms.
He untied her petticoats and loosened her corset,
tossing both aside. His fingers settled on the silk garters
that held her black stockings in place. With care, he drew
them down off her legs. He frowned when he saw the still
discolored bruise on her right knee.
“Don’t think of it now.” She opened his shirt and ran
her fingers up his strong chest. How could she have
understood Meskhenet’s longing from the very beginning
of the story and not known how wondrous caressing his
bare skin would feel until she met Simon?
When he tossed her stockings aside, she entwined her
legs with his, exulting in the prickly wool against her bare
skin. She wanted to enjoy every sensation they could share,
so she never would forget again.
He brushed his lips along the top of her chemise, and
a soft cry of longing escaped her lips. She looked up at
him in abrupt dismay and put her hands over her mouth.
“Do you think,” he asked as he drew the strap of her
chemise down over her shoulder, “I want you to hide
anything from me? Let me be a part of your pleasure as
I’ll be a part of you.”
“But if someone comes here—”
“As long as that storm rages outside, we can give
ourselves to the one within. No one will venture near the
maze until the rain stops.” He gave her a roguish grin as
he reached to lower her other strap. “Why else do you
think I waited through the past few fair weather days before
I lured you here?”
She smiled as she sat up to draw his braces and then
his shirt off. “I’m so glad this storm didn’t delay any
longer.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to wait much longer.” He
reached for the ribbons on her chemise. “And I shan’t now,
mahbjb.”
She smiled at the name he spoke as if he had done so
often. As he drew her undergarments from her, he paused
and guided her fingers to the buttons at the top of his
trousers. She hesitated, then was caught anew by his gaze.
It invited her to throw aside her proper ways and give
herself to wanton passion. That invitation she could not
refuse.
In quiet awe, she discovered every inch of his male
body, first with her eyes and then, letting her longings guide
her, with her fingers. Her mind was abuzz as he pressed
her back onto the floor again. She savored his bare skin
against her. It was all she had imagined and all she had
hoped for and so much more.
Now the smothering heat came more from within her
as he held her to his body that was covered with a fine
sheen of perspiration. As if the temple had been transported
to the su
ltry banks of the Nile. Each inch of him was an
individual caress, sending uncountable thrills spiraling
along her as her yearning threatened to overpower her
completely.
Seeking again between her breasts, his tongue set her
skin aflame, and she became a wildfire roused by
unstoppable winds of passion. He sought along the upward
curve to the rougher skin of its tip and drew it into his
mouth. She moaned as the heat within her escalated until
she was sure she was about to melt in his arms.
Pushing him onto his back, she tasted his skin’s
textures. The curve of his ear was soft, the line of his jaw
unyielding, tiny whiskers rough against her lips when she
sampled the length of his neck. She tried to ignore his
eager fingers, but she was aware of them inching along
her legs. When she teased the ruched skin on his chest,
she could feel as well as hear his rapid heartbeat.
Lower, she followed the contours of his intriguing male
body, delighting in every texture and flavor. More brazenly
than she had touched him, she explored with her mouth.
His almost anguished gasp of her name sent renewed
craving through her. Never had she imagined the simple
touch of her lips could offer him so much pleasure.
“Enough,” he groaned.
“Enough?” She was puzzled by his command when
he writhed beneath her touch.
Instead of answering, he rolled her onto her back and
rose over her. She quivered with uncontrollable desire as
he plunged deep within her. The pain she had expected–
the pain she had been warned a woman must endure– never
came. The sense of having shared this before vanished.
Nothing had been as wonderful as this. Through her blurred
eyes, she saw his satisfied smile as she clung to him, happy
for one, short moment simply to be together. Then the
craving surged through her anew, insisting upon satiation.
When she discovered how her movements could match
his, eliciting the passion governing both of them, she
gauged the growing need so very visible on his face. Faster,
more acutely than she would have believed possible, the
yearning overtook her. Hearing his gasps close to her ear,
she vanished into rapture, surrendering herself to the
ecstasy she wanted to share only with him . . . forever.
***
Darcy rose and went to the fireplace in her bedroom.
She had brought Simon here after dinner and, after they
reveled in their passion again, had fallen asleep in his arms.
She had believed she would be safe there, safe from the
dreams that had haunted her all her life.
Sitting by the hearth, she hid her face in her hands.
Less than a trio of heartbeats passed before she heard
footfalls behind her. Strong hands settled on her shoulders.
“How long can these night horrors last?” she moaned.
“It was as if it were happening again.”
“Darcy,” Simon whispered in her hair as he knelt by
the low stool. “I don’t know how to comfort you. Maybe
if you tell me what you dream . . .”
“I hear something falling. Something heavy, and then
there is silence. I can’t breathe. I try to shout, but my shouts
are smothered within darkness. It’s so dark.” She
shuddered. “It’s always so dark. I want to escape, but I
can’t. When I try to wake up, the terror won’t release me.
How long can this continue?” Spinning, she flung her arms
around him. “Oh, Simon, how much longer can it torment
me?”
“Only as long as you allow it to.” His thumbs under
her chin brought her face up to him. “You need to stop it.”
“I don’t know how.”
He smiled and held out his hand. “You didn’t know
how to be my lover when this morning dawned. Now you
do.”
“There’s so much more I want to learn.”
She went with him to the shadowed bed. Lying beside
him, letting his kisses ease the shivers of fear and replace
them with eager quivers, she traced the varied planes of
Simon’s face before reaching his mustache.
“It’s so soft against me,” she said with a laugh.
When he smiled, and she enjoyed watching the muted
signs of passion on his surprisingly expressive face. For
so long, he had been completely in control. Now he seemed
to want to free his emotions as much as she did. “Is that
good?”
“Oh, yes.”
He laughed, nestling her against his chest. Her fingers
entangled with his through her long hair. He laughed again
as she tried to stifle a yawn and failed.
“It is not yet midnight, but I hope that’s fatigue. I hope
I’m not boring you.”
“Not boring. I spent too much time last night working
for my employer who makes me toil night and day.”
“I’m sure he appreciates what you do.”
Sliding her hand across his bare abdomen, she said,
“I believe he does.”
“And I hope you appreciate what he does for you?”
He stroked her with an eagerness that thrilled her.
“More than words can say.” She smiled. “All the way
back to their beginnings.”
“Then I guess you’ll just have to show me, won’t you?”
As she gathered him to her again, her eyes were caught
by the lighted clouds glowing near the ceiling. They floated
closer and closer, merging into a single cloud, before
drifting apart again. She forgot them when he tilted her
mouth beneath his. For tonight, she wanted to forget the
many mysteries in Rosewood Hall and think just of this
pleasure for as long as it could be hers . . . this time.
This time? Where had that thought come from?
She had no time to discover an answer as she gave
herself to passion and the man she loved.
Fourteen
~~~ “You must go.”
Meskhenet nodded, but held up her lips for one final
kiss. Never had the moon been so swift in its passage across
the sky. Never had the sun been so eager to lift its glowing
face above the eastern edge of the world.
Savoring Kafele’s kiss, for she knew she would never
again, she blinked back tears. A Pharaoh—or even a rich
man like Usi—could have wives and concubines, but that
privilege was not granted to women. Even if it was, she
could not imagine Kafele accepting such a place in her
life. He wanted her to be his and only his as she wanted to
belong solely to him.
“It is wrong,” she whispered when he lifted his mouth
from hers. “The scales of Thoth will be out of balance,
and the heart of Ra must be broken. We are meant to be
together, not apart.”
“It is wrong, but it is the way it must be.” He ran the
back of his hand along her cheek. “I shall never forget this
night.”
“If there is a way—”
He put his finger to her lips. “No, beloved. You must
not be so rash as you were tonight and the day when you
came her
e to see me. Pharaoh might forgive you, but Usi
never will. He has the power to make you wish you never
had even seen me.”
Meskhenet nodded. Kafele was right, even though he
had not spoken of what brought the most fear to her heart.
If Usi discovered her night here, he would focus his rage
and vengeance on Kafele.
She touched his face once and then hurried back to
the river where the small boat was waiting for her. As she
stepped into it, she looked back. A shadow in a shape she
knew now as well as her own stood against the fading
stars. She should have guessed Kafele would watch over
her while she returned to the Pharaoh’s palace.
Dipping the oar into the water, she pushed away from
the shore. The sounds of frogs and the river’s current
followed her across the water. She tied up the boat on shore
near the gate to her garden. From here, she could not see
Kafele on the other side. She did not need to see him. He
was there. Even if they never could as much as speak alone
ever again, he would always be there to watch over her.
He had not had to say that. She knew it to be true.
As Meskhenet walked through her garden, she heard
a strange sound. Someone was wailing in grief. She ran
into her private chambers. Her bodyservant was in a ball
on the floor, sobbing.
Meskhenet hurried to her, but paused when she heard
a man’s voice say, “May I express my sorrow at your loss?”
“Loss?” She whirled to see Usi in the doorway to her
most private sleeping chamber.
He walked toward her as if he already had become
her husband and had the privilege of being within her
chambers. When his gaze slithered along her, she wanted
to order him to leave. She silenced those words when he
stared at her feet.
She looked down and saw the damp river mud on her
sandals. Fighting back her despair, she lifted her head.
She regarded him without emotion. She was the Pharaoh’s
sister. If she wished to take a walk along the shore just as
dawn was arriving, no one could dispute that other than
her brother the Pharaoh.
“Did some omen wake you early?” Usi asked. “Some
omen of sorrow?”
“Say what you have to say.” She kept her voice steady,
but it was not easy.
“I am so sorry to tell you of your sister’s death. The
Ferguson, J. A. - Call Back Yesterday.txt Page 23
