by Ann Collins
Julia gulped air but couldn’t draw enough.
Alex dropped to his knees beside her and grabbed her hand. “You’re freezing.”
“It could be shock,” Dr. Dolan said. “Everybody out. Now.”
While Mary spread a heavier blanket over her, Alex rubbed her hand between both of his. “It’s all right, Julia,” he said, a catch in his voice. “You’re going to be fine. You have to be fine.”
Chapter Fourteen
Julia awoke to her dark room and the sound of Alex’s low-pitched snores coming from her rocking chair. The moonlight entering through the window silhouetted him, and she guessed he must have been as tired as she to fall asleep in the chair. He had been sitting there when she’d dropped off late this afternoon after he and Dr. Dolan installed her in her bed with orders to rest.
Trying not to wake him and careful not to dislodge the bandage under her modest white muslin nightdress, she got up and tiptoed into the water closet. When she came back out, the snores had ceased and Alex was sitting up.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Good. Refreshed and hungry.” Standing beside her bed, she switched on the lamp and glanced at the clock.
“What time is it?” he asked, surveying her modest nightdress with more attention than seemed normal.
When she realized the lamp behind her was revealing her body to him, she quickly stepped aside. “Just after ten. Have you been in that chair since this afternoon?”
“No, your chef sent dinner up a few hours ago.” Feet bare, he stood and stretched. Dr. Dolan’s shirt had been replaced with one of his own, and it pulled across his chest as he raised his arms. “I ate it in the other room so I wouldn’t disturb you.”
“Is there any left?” she asked, dragging her gaze up to his face.
“Enough. Beef and barley soup, ‘to strengthen your blood,’ I was told. I’ll heat it up and bring it to you. There’s fresh bread, too.”
“Alex, I’m perfectly able to eat at the table.”
“I can see that, but, if you’ll recall, I promised Dr. Dolan I wouldn’t let you out of bed. You scared us when you couldn’t catch your breath.”
“I know. I scared myself. My emotions got the better of me. I couldn’t stop thinking about my mother. If my father had known he had a son, Mama might still be alive today.” Avoiding further thoughts of her parents and half-brother, she started for the door.
Alex stepped in front of her. “Julia, I intend to keep my word to the doctor. Please get back into bed.”
She peered up at the implacable expression on his face. This was the man she loved, the man who wanted to stay with her and who had risked his life to carry her to Dr. Dolan. The temptation to touch him was too strong to deny. She pressed her fingertips, then her palm, against the center of his chest. Beneath her hand, his heart beat strong and fast, faster than she expected.
“What are you doing?” His hand came down on hers, and his brown eyes glimmered with golden specks that flashed in the lamplight. His intent gaze ignited a scorching heat deep inside her.
“I’m … not sure.”
Inhaling his masculine scent, she realized her appetite for food had fled, replaced by a hunger for her husband. She loved Alex, and she wanted him to make her his. Until they consummated their marriage, they wouldn’t truly be husband and wife.
She licked her lips and stepped closer to him. Beneath her hand, his heart pulsed faster, encouraging her. “I will go back to bed if you will join me there.”
His brows rose. “Are we negotiating the terms of a possible wedding night, Mrs. MacLean?”
“No. Tonight I want nothing to do with terms or contracts. I do, however, want you to be my husband in the most intimate way possible. Show me that your claims about lovemaking are true.”
His eyes seemed to darken. His chest rose and fell with the deep breath he took and released. “Oh, Julia.” Her name came out on a sigh. “You don’t know how much I want to do just that. I’ve wanted you from the very first, but”—he gritted his teeth and slid his hand out from between their bodies—“you’re hurt. I won’t risk aggravating your wound.”
Staring up at him, she silently refused to let him be his gallant self and walk away. “I’m not in any pain. This”—she lowered her hand to her wound—“is no worse than a scraped knee. If it worries you, though, we can be extra careful.” She reached up and cupped his jaw. “Please make love to me, Alex. Make me your wife.”
He groaned, as if struggling with himself. “What about your fear of pregnancy? The sheathe we need to prevent conception is in my bathroom. I’d have to leave you for a minute.”
“I don’t want you to go anywhere, Alex.” Not now. Not ever. She lowered her hand to his shoulder. “I’ll always be afraid of childbirth, but when I recently spoke to Dr. Dolan about your recovery, I also discussed my fears with him. He said I am a ‘very fit specimen of womanhood,’ and there’s no reason to think I’ll suffer the same complications my mother did.”
“What about the possibility of … losing a child?”
“Through you, your Danny, and my sister, I’ve realized how important it is to cherish whatever limited time we have with the ones we love. We have to risk our hearts to enjoy the greatest rewards—love and family. Do you still want children?”
“I always wanted to give Danny brothers and sisters. I loved being a father. Playing with him was the highlight of my days. Now that I’ve let him back into my life, I’m no longer starting over. I’m moving forward, and I’d like to give fatherhood another try.”
“I’m glad. I think you must be a wonderful father.”
“A word of warning. I’m going to be an extremely overprotective father.”
“I won’t mind that a bit.” She trailed her index finger the length of his scar. “Thank you for marrying me.”
“Thank you for asking.” His lips came down on hers, gentle and warm. She reached around his neck, and his arms came around her back. He eased her against him, careful not to touch her wound.
Julia melted into his embrace and answered his kiss. It deepened, their tongues dancing in rhythm. She relished the solid feel of his chest. Farther down, a certain prominent part of him pressed intimately against her. The knowledge that she was the woman he desired made her body tense with mutual desire. Julia threaded her fingers into his hair, giving herself up to him and the love in her heart.
Time came to a standstill for her, the clock only beginning to tick again when Alex stepped back from her. His breathing was harsh and loud in the quiet of her bedroom. She wanted him to come back to her, to take her in his arms again and kiss her even more thoroughly. She wanted to feel his gentle but callused fingertips grazing across her flesh.
“Are you leaving?” she asked, desperation in her voice.
“Not on your life.” He began to unbutton his shirt.
Her relief and longing made her limbs shake. Their wedding night was only just beginning.
She watched him in fascination, her attention riveted on his fingers and the widening expanse of muscled flesh. Her fingers tingled, as if they wanted to touch him, but she kept her distance, admiring him under the soft light from the lamp. When he turned and tossed the shirt aside, she saw the vividly colored bruises marring his back. They reminded her of how much he had done for her. He was her hero. He had saved her life the first time they met, rescued little Joshua from certain drowning, and whisked her to the doctor when she might have bled to death.
She began to unfasten her nightdress, beginning at the top button of the high, ruffled neckline.
“That is the primmest nightdress I have ever seen,” he said. “It makes me want to uncover every hidden part of you.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say. His unwavering gaze made her fingers fumble the buttons.
He gently pulled her hands away. “Let me.” The deep timbre of his voice set butterflies free in her stomach. Their wings beat more swiftly with each button that came undone. The
backs of his knuckles skimmed her breasts as he worked.
She drew quick, shallow breaths, and her back arched involuntarily.
He smiled at her, a smile so open and easy and knowing that it took away what was left of her breath.
Her nightdress soon fell to the floor with a whispered rustle, pooling around her ankles. The air was cool on her body, the bandage around her middle the only covering. She felt no shame. This was what she wanted, what they both wanted—the real beginning of their life as a married couple.
Alex’s gaze roved over her. Julia felt herself warm. Her breasts swelled, and her nipples tightened to small peaks. When he offered her his hand, she took it and stepped clear of the garment at her feet, holding onto him with a trust she had never given to anyone before.
* * *
Pulse galloping, Alex stood in front of his wife. He recognized the trusting look in her eyes, and he vowed to control his passion. Though he was more than ready to make love to her—long-overdue ready—he didn’t want to frighten or hurt her. He would take great care with her wound. He would also take his time, following through on his promise that their first time together would be slow and sensual, every moment worth savoring. Their postponed wedding night would be as wonderful for her as it would be for him, if not more so.
He let go of her hand and stroked her glorious hair. The ash-blond strands shimmered in the light from the lamp, draping her neck and back and shoulders. He lifted what felt like a thousand silken threads.
“Your hair is as beautiful as the rest of you.”
“Will you be touching the rest of me, too?” she asked, tempting him, a wanton yearning filling the innocent, brilliant blue of her eyes. Her scent of sweet and tangy orange blossoms floated on the air, drawing him to her.
“Oh, yes. I will be touching every inch. Starting now.”
Her breasts were high, with dusky-rose nipples beaded tight. Softly rounded hips led to legs that were longer than he had imagined. Dark blond curls seemed to glisten between her thighs. With excruciating slowness, Alex stroked his callused hand from her shoulder, down her arm, over her hip, and along her leg.
She moaned softly and swayed under his touch. Her body trembled.
“You all right?”
“Yes,” she croaked.
“Shall I continue?”
“Oh, yes.”
He smiled and placed his hands on her hips, careful not to dislodge the gauze holding the dressing at her waist. “Lean back a little. Trust me. I won’t let you fall.”
She did as he said, her chest lifting like an offering to his palate.
He lowered his head and took the bud of one breast into his mouth, gently nibbling at the hardened nipple, laving his tongue over it.
She released another moan. When he switched to her other breast, nipping and sucking, she gripped his arms, arched, and gasped her pleasure, a boundless longing in the stirring sound.
His body lurched, every part of him burning for her. He lowered her onto the bed, then stepped back and shucked his canvas pants and cotton drawers, kicking them across the floor.
She watched, and her potent gaze made him painfully harder than he already was. His heart beat like a steam engine at full throttle.
“Are you afraid?” he asked.
“No. Not with you.” She shimmied into the middle of the bed as her gaze roamed over him again. “Besides, you’re beautiful. I never thought a man’s body could be so captivating.”
He wasn’t beautiful, not with his scarred face, but he liked hearing that his wife admired his body.
“You’re the one who’s beautiful.” He knelt on the edge of the bed, captured her hand, and lifted it to his lips, kissing the palm and each fingertip, sucking on her littlest finger. When he lay down beside her, he slowly swept his hand down the length of her arm to the soft curve of her hip and thigh.
Tonight, Julia Fairbanks MacLean would be his wife in every respect. He had never wanted any woman as much as he wanted her. He was a lucky man.
* * *
She waited, nearly breathless from the lingering feel of Alex’s hand on her body. She’d had no idea a man’s touch could elicit this many sensations or that just looking at his naked body could arouse her. Seeing the proud jut of his manhood had started a throbbing deep in her womb and the private place between her legs.
Waves of desire as relentless as the surf buffeted her. When she recalled her innocence of a week ago, when she had first seen Alex without his shirt, she could hardly believe she was now seeing all of him, and feeling no shyness or shame. Everything in her hummed with a craving she had never known. She wanted nothing more than to open herself to him, welcome him into her body—and do her marital duty. She smiled.
He leaned over her. “What are you smiling about?”
“I was just thinking how enjoyable a wife’s marital duty can be with the right man, ‘a man of experience,’ as Kate would say.”
“Hmm. How about a man who wants to please his wife more than himself?” he murmured between kisses.
She suppressed a frisson of anticipation. “I think I’d prefer an equal give and take between us,” she managed to whisper, “though I apologize in advance for my limited experience.”
“I’m not sorry at all.” His kisses moved lower, trailing across the hollow below her ear. “I like knowing I’ll be your first and only lover.”
Julia loved that he intended to be the only man ever to lie with her. He was her future. Even if she lost the hotel, she would still have Alex. She would never regret marrying him.
His kisses dropped to her chest. His lips tantalized and tormented one breast while his fingers teased the other. A powerful need grew inside her. She didn’t even try to stifle the moan building in her throat.
“Please, Alex,” she begged, barely recognizing her own voice, not even sure what she wanted.
“Don’t rush me, sweetheart. Try to relax.”
“How can I relax when you’re doing what you’re doing?”
He chuckled hoarsely. “I suppose I could stop what I’m doing.”
“No! Don’t you dare!”
“Your wish is my command.” His hand slid up the inside of her leg, his fingers grazing her private place and moving against her.
“Oh, my.” She threw her head back. Her legs seemed to open of their own accord.
His finger slowly slid inside her, stretching her, finding sensitive places she hadn’t known existed.
“Does that hurt?” he asked.
“No,” she moaned, writhing beneath his expert touch.
Dazed, her breathing shallow, he continued his exquisite torture until time lost all meaning. Every nerve ending felt on fire.
Finally, her husband poised himself above her. She gripped his arms, digging her fingertips into them.
“Open wider, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.” Despite the tension visible in his jaw, neck, and shoulders, he smiled down at her reassuringly.
She smiled back, trusting him completely, wanting this and him more than anything. She gave herself up to him, her body quivering as he lowered himself between her thighs.
He pressed into her, pushing so slowly she gasped. A sharp pain quickly followed, but the ache receded amidst the greater awareness of Alex filling her, making them husband and wife.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, moving inside her, his voice rough, his breathing fast.
“Yes,” she answered through her own helplessly quick breaths. A feverish sensation flared throughout her body. She raised her hips, and her pounding heart seemed full to bursting with the sensations and emotions overwhelming her. His claims were true. Now she knew what he meant. A rushing noise as loud as the sea on a stormy night flowed inside her ears. “Oh, Alex.”
He paused.
Their gazes met, and Julia nearly blurted out her feelings for him. She loved Alex MacLean and couldn’t imagine life without him.
She started to tell him, but he began to move again, and she lo
st the ability to think let alone speak.
Lamplight bathed his sweat-slicked muscles in a shimmering gold. Each of Alex’s thrusts built within her an indescribable tension, one that grew and grew until she thought she could no longer bear it.
Senses overloading, she wedged her eyes shut and gave herself up to it.
In sudden, astonished release, she cried out, “Alex!” Behind her eyes, the world exploded in a wash of white sea foam.
* * *
Beneath the blanket and quilted bedcover, Julia lay in Alex’s arms. Sometime during the night, he must have switched off the lamp. Pale light from a rosy dawn filtered into the room. She felt as if they were in a world of their own, just the two of them. The back of her body was melded to the front of his, and she had never felt such contentment and belonging. They belonged to each other.
Her husband sighed, his warm breath tickling her nape. “Are you awake?” he murmured.
“Yes.” Taking care with her wound, she rolled to her other side and smiled at him. “Is there something you wanted?” she asked.
“I can think of several things, but right this minute, I just want to look at you.” He gave her a smile filled with pleasure. “How do you feel?”
“I think you know the answer to that.”
“A man still likes to hear he has pleased a lady.”
“Your previous claims were not empty boasts. You pleased this lady indescribably, incredibly, inordinately, in—”
He pressed his index finger to her lips. “That’ll do. Too much flattery isn’t good for a fellow.”
She laughed and lay back, her head on his arm. “My stepmother led me to believe lovemaking was an act to endure, not enjoy. I feel sorry for her now.”
“Me, too. What was her name?” he asked, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger.
“Harriet Lincoln. She was from New York City, and she told us she had come west in search of a quieter place to live. I’m embarrassed to say I wasn’t very welcoming. She was nice, but I’d just turned eighteen and was still devastated by my mother’s and Lily’s deaths.”
Alex tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m sure she understood.”
