A deep cry came from him, causing her to tremble. Then his hands wound around her back, touched her spine, pulling her close. He brushed her mouth before deepening the kiss. He felt her hands move across his shoulders, hesitantly at first. Then her fingers slid through his hair. She did not shy away but met him equally, daringly. He sought her mouth and tongue over and over, breaking away to look at her then finding the heat of her once again. His hands began a bold exploration. As their mouths met in a raging tempest, he stroked her back and her breasts. His fingertips lightly touched her belly and drew with startling speed to the dripping wet softness between her thighs. Inside her body wept passion for him.
She flinched, but he whispered words of encouragement and drew her closer still. He calmed her with soothing words, yet he did not desist in his foray. She arched into his hand as his fingers parted her wet folds and found her engorged nub. Then he flicked his finger across her clit. She cried out and shivered, so weak that she fell against him as his caress moved intimately inside of her womb.
"For tonight you are mine. Damn the consequences," he murmured.
She clung to him, and he quickly swept her to the ground, to a soft bed of grass and fragrant clover. Lying there, gazing at the stars, she looked apprehensive, but he quickly covered her with his warmth and whispered assurances. His lips scorched her once more. He caressed her with exploding liquid fire in secret places, bringing sighs to her lips, as he possessed her body with his touch, covering her belly with the flaming sweep of his mouth, parting the curls at the apex of her thighs. Sensations came to take precedence over rational thought. Each new caress was a maelstrom of delight and wonder, evocative beyond measure. He was with her now because he desired her beyond anything else, anyone else, and tonight he swore he would cherish her.
He moved from her, hovering over her for a moment, seeking out her eyes, his own tension visible. Reverently, he touched the long column of her throat, moving downward to the rise of her breast, keeping his eyes upon her. Once again he drew his fingers low across her ribs, against her stomach, down to the junction between her thighs. Her lashes fluttered.
"It's all right," he told her softly, and she lifted her gaze to his again as he touched her more intimately, caressed the soft wet folds. She brought her legs together as if embarrassed, but her body surged against his touch and he laughed with pleasure and triumph and his mouth descended to hers.
"Ah, babe, I've hungered for you since the first time I set my eyes upon you." His lips covered hers. In raging desire and surrender, they traveled to her breast, to her belly, yet always downward. Brazenly he touched her. She gasped, almost as if in protest then seemed to be swept into the moment. He left her, stripping away his clothes.
He did not want her to fear him. Uncertain, he teased her no longer, but entered her with purpose and resolve, parting her thighs to his need, cradling her gently in his embrace.
She cried out in pain and he whispered more words of love meant to soothe. She bit into his shoulder and tears lay damp upon her cheeks. He cursed himself and swore that he would make it right, that she would once again know the sweet desire of pleasure from him before the morning dawned. For the longest time he held himself still. He was so very deep inside her. Finally, when he felt her begin to slowly move against him, felt the relaxation of her muscles, he began to move, matching her rhythm.
"Barbarian," she said softly.
"Fool," he responded with a gentle understanding, and almost laughed when she began to writhe beneath him.
"Please..." Her whisper filled his senses, her fingers stroking his flesh as he thrust harder and faster, bringing her with him.
"Cameron," she sighed, but at that moment he emitted a deep guttural cry, and he didn't hear the soft sound of his name whispered by her.
He had made love to Tori, and heaven help his soul. He closed his eyes. It did not help him forget the confrontation that was yet to come or the betrayal that had already taken place. She shuddered again and again beneath him, and the need to possess and claim tore through him. He opened his eyes to discover she was smiling innocently at him. He lay atop her still and gently within her. He had not solved anything, nor was he released from his desire for her. Yet she had come to him, and he had known the consequences.
He pulled away from her, rising up on an elbow, smoothing the tangle of her hair away from her face. He would like to cradle her in his arms the rest of the night. He wished suddenly that he would not have to appear as Cameron tomorrow.
"Reservations?" he asked her.
"Not one." But her eyes clouded over and she looked beyond him.
"You knew this could not be permanent," he reminded her.
She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, nodding. She turned toward him, letting her cheek rest against his chest. "I don't want to talk."
He pulled her gently to him, letting her lie there. He suddenly imagined the rest of his life, sleeping so close to her, night after night, and he realized there could be nothing more pleasurable than feeling the soft curves of her and her incredible warmth as she lay so close to him.
"You must face tomorrow," he told her.
She shook her head against him. "Not now."
"Well, babe, when you go to Cameron, what will you tell him?"
"This is not his business."
"He will disagree."
Her eyes ablaze, Tori pushed away. "It will be a marriage in name only."
"What if he wishes otherwise?"
"He will not have his wish." She pulled away and suddenly glared at him as if he'd trampled on her rights. "I will not surrender to him what I've given you here tonight."
"Don't be so sure of that," he promised, his temper once again simmering beyond control.
"I would not go willingly, and I would never surrender." She tried once more to pull away. He brought her beneath him, pinning her.
"Get off!" she ordered, even while she pulled him closer.
"No, babe, I will not. Surrender to me."
"I have already surrendered everything to you."
He ignored her. His lips came down hard upon hers, begging her surrender, claiming her. He felt the soft mounds of her breasts and heard her gasp of pleasure. He entered her, filling her, and they were as one. Fire could not kindle so rapidly again, he thought, and yet it did. He ached for her. Explosive, sweet, mercuric, it flamed like a raging prairie fire, bringing both of them to a violent shattering climax. He gave her no quarter and no mercy now that he claimed her as his own. Still deep inside her, part of her, on his elbows he rose above her.
"Say the word and I will sweep you away from all this--from Cameron. We'll find a place in the woods, far away from every one. We will find a place where we can live at peace and without fear."
She gasped. "I--you don't mean that. You would never give up your honor!" she cried out.
"For you...." He shrugged. "Then you would marry Cameron?"
"Yes..."
His temper flared again. He was furious at her and even angrier with himself for goading her so. He could have let it rest, confronted her later. He could have but he hadn't.
"What is it you want then?" he asked her. "You deny him, call him barbarian, yet you would have his support, you would have the laboratory. You cannot manage life without your test tubes and computers."
"How dare you judge me!"
"How dare you seduce me," he said softly, yet his voice held more than a hint of menace.
"I wanted you..." her voice trailed off. The look of defiance vanished and she slumped against him. He pulled away from her and she quickly sat up, searching the ground for her clothes. Holding the shirt in front of her, she rose and gazed at him. He rose, too, not going after her, just watching her with his feet firm upon the earth, his arms crossed over his chest.
"You're leaving?"
"I'm going to the cabin, to my own bed. I have a lot to think about."
She turned and fled. He watched her go, cursing himself once more. He was a
fool.
As she entered the cabin, her hand hesitated on the doorknob. For one brief moment, he thought she would turn and look back to him. If she did, he would surely give in to his desire once more. She didn't. Instead the door opened slowly. He could even hear the faint sound as it creaked on its hinges. A morning dove called plaintively from somewhere beyond the cabin. It was almost sunrise.
Ironically, he was once again sitting by the lake, still watching the ripples lap against the beach, still tossing pebbles with the sole purpose of watching the rings grow ever larger. He waited for the sun to rise above the mountains, alternately frustrated then angry. It had been the hardest night of his life.
She would learn that Cameron was not such a barbarian. She would know what he'd sacrificed. Moreover, she would know he was a man of honor.
In that mood, he allowed the hours to pass, unsure of how she'd greet Cameron this morning. As the sun began to cast it's warmth upon the land, he rose slowly then walked to the glider. With shaving gear in hand, he prepared himself for Cameron Savage's encounter with his bride to be.
Victoria
After Victoria entered the cabin, she spent several hours sitting on the bed, reflecting; then several more swearing at Cameron Savage, furious with him. Pensively, she shifted through all that he'd said and perversely not said. His charade had not fooled her for very long. Unfortunately, it had alluded her long enough for her to fall in love with him.
She trembled anew, wondering what she was going to do when she saw Savage, when Savage came for her. And he would. She couldn't think, couldn't even begin to comprehend all that was left to sort out between them. He would think she had betrayed him. Yet she had not. He would think she despised him. Yet she did not.
She was furious with him. He had not trusted her enough to confide in her, yet he'd made love to her.
She had acted the fool, attempting to seduce The Phantom, not the man, and even though she knew he'd wanted her, it had been incredibly easy.
She blushed deeply, and she refused to allow herself to think anymore of the things she had done with him. The horrible truth of her situation did indeed haunt her. She would have to explain.
She reminded herself she was about to be bartered for her research, for what she owned, not for herself. Despite all her efforts to the contrary, she was going to lose her independence and her freedom. Yet what she craved more than anything else was the love she'd been denied for so long. She had let herself fall in love with a man she had vowed was her enemy.
She swore. Then she wrapped her arms around her legs. She didn't even care that she swore, that she broke a solemn pledge to Nessa. Nessa wouldn't care either. This one was worth it.
She lay back against the headboard of the gigantic bed, letting her fingers explore the subtle contours of the quilt that graced it. It was a flower design, poppies perhaps. She had not paid attention to it when she'd first entered the room. It wouldn't have mattered because it was dark. No, she thought, not poppies, but daisies. No, not daisies, either. It was a white flower. Perhaps it was her elusive white flower, lavendil.
She tried to think of something besides her work, but it was futile. Not after what she'd just done.
Indeed, she didn't know what the future would bring. The Phantom had managed to capture her heart but it was supposed to belong to another. She had the memory of his kisses to hold on to, and the warmth of his touch still lingered against her flesh. And she couldn't forget him despite herself because The Phantom was Savage and no matter what he didn't say, she knew he'd keep her from the hands of Morray. She understood it was his honor, keeping him from loving her. He was a man of honor and she respected that, but...
Eventually, she dozed but her sleep was restless. The sun rose; the forest came to life. Snuggling deeply into the blanket, she pulled on the quilt. She didn't know why but she knew someone was in the room, standing in front of the bed. She felt the presence before she opened her eyes, even before she was awake.
When she opened her eyes, there was no one by the bed.
Her eyes adjusted slowly to the light and the strange sense of foreboding that was filling her. Sitting up in the bed, she searched the room but saw nothing. From another room she heard a soft humming, a man singing softly as if he were trying to be quiet, yet unwilling to stop the noise. His voice was a pleasant, deep baritone.
She pushed her hair back from her eyes and slipped her legs from beneath the covers, straining all the while to see into the other room.
She adjusted her shirt, securing all the buttons.
"Good morning," the pleasant voice said as he stepped into the doorway.
Her eyes cast down in dread, she hesitated a moment before taking one cautious step. A thousand reasons not to look at the figure in the doorway swept through her. But as her gaze finally fell upon him, she fought to keep her hammering heart still. It was Cameron Savage. The Phantom was gone. She remembered every word she'd spoken to the Phantom, and she could not take them back. Savage would remember last night all too well, but she was innocent in this betrayal. If he would have only been honest with her.
As he stood in the doorway, the size and strength of him startled her, even though she knew it so well. She stood there, staring blankly at the image, her hair still a wild tangle around her shoulders. She was trying to settle her nerves and deal with her anger. A hammer beat a horrible cadence inside her head, and as she rubbed her temples, she closed her eyes for a second.
Even with her eyes closed, she knew he was staring at her, raking her from head to toe, as if he knew all. He did know her. She reminded herself she was a DeMontville. She straightened and returned the stare, taking good measure of her adversary. From head to toe, she let her eyes wander. And the realization of who he was hit her once again with full impact.
Tall and broad shouldered, he filled the doorway, and he stood in front of her as if he meant to command.
All she wanted was his love. His hair was black as night, his skin clean-shaven. He was clad in brown leggings and a soft white shirt, one not so different from the one she wore herself. Handsome. Self-assured.
"The Phantom is gone," he said glibly. "He left an hour ago. He has told me you are well, even though you have had a trying couple of days. You slept, I take it?"
"You bastard," she barked softly. "The Phantom. The barbarian. One and the same. And the joke is on me. I'm sure you are very happy. Be sure to give my compliments to your alter ego."
A smile played upon his lips, his eyes dancing with humor, or perhaps something else. She wasn't sure. A wave of longing swept through her. Suddenly, she remembered the day in the forest, the tempest, the strange sensations she felt at his touch, sensations not so different from those she felt when he touched her last night.
She shook her head, wondering, lost in thought. What in the hell was she going to do now?
Damn Savage. Damn the Phantom. He was too suave, arrogant, and sure of himself. He carried on as if nothing had happened between them. She gritted her teeth. "I hate what you did," she whispered with a ferocity that surprised her.
"Come, Victoria, relax. You know, I'd like to get to know you better. I'd like this meeting to be--different..." He let that one word hang in the air, implying so much, telling her he remembered everything that happened that day so long ago. It told her he didn't have to use his imagination to know what she looked like beneath the shirt. He knew everything about her.
She would not back down. "Even though my father suggested we marry--" she began, but Savage interrupted.
"Suggested? It was a command, babe, nothing more, nothing less. Neither of us have much of a choice. I plan to honor the arrangement, and I plan to hold you to it also."
You fell in love with him, a small voice sang out in her head.
"I fell in love with the Phantom," she said. "Who the hell are you?"
"I've arranged the marriage. You will come to know who I am, a man not so different from the Phantom." His voice was steel and his eyes harde
r still.
Cameron
It had all felt like a dream. Cameron swiftly and very efficiently ushered Tori from the cabin into a waiting land glider. This glider was nothing as spectacular as the one he had used when he had been The Phantom. But it was comfortable. When she expected to be wrenched skyward, they instead floated lazily only a few thousand feet above the earth.
The time they spent together in the glider did little to relieve her trembling or the rapid beat of her heart. She needed time alone to reflect on the fact that she'd seduced this man--her soon-to-be fiancé.
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