He would not be cajoled into telling her where they were going as they sailed the short distance from the island into the sound, then went up and around the northeastern tip, finally turning toward Somerset. As the yacht glided toward a narrow cove, Jade could hear the sound of steel drums, whose tinny music she found so exciting. It was a dark night, moonless, but the beach glowed bright pink beneath flickering candles tied to sticks placed every few feet. Flowers seemed to be everywhere. There was even a small wooden boat on the beach that was bedecked with blossoms of every kind. Jade knew at once what the occasion had to be. “A wedding!” she cried with pleasure and looked up at Bryan to see his eager nod of confirmation. “How wonderful!” she whispered.
Almost proudly, he explained that it was Amelia’s niece who was getting married. He shook his head in disbelief. “Rosie used to work around the house, helping Marnia with the herb gardens. Can’t believe she’s grown up now.”
The natives were waiting to greet them, and Amelia was there to ask anyone around to agree with her that Jade looked just like Missy Marnia, only prettier. Jade glanced sideways at Bryan to see if this caused him any stress, but he was smiling, waving to old friends. Nothing, it seemed, made him unhappy anymore, except when she cried. Only then did his eyes grow shadowy.
Bryan explained that the natives were descendants of slaves brought from Africa but left on the islands either through neglect or because a ship for some reason or other had been unable to continue to the southern states of America. Not having the means to return to their homeland, the slaves had stayed on the island. “You’ll find there aren’t many black people here, and those who are, are happy. Sometimes,” he added wistfully, “I think Bermuda is where happiness began, and the rest of the world just evolved around it.”
The ceremony consisted of dancing and singing, and then a minister from Hamilton performed the rites. Jade refused to feel sadness as memories of her own wedding were provoked. Instead, she lifted her chin and thought of the peace and hope around her. Bryan seemed to sense what she was feeling, for he stood very close, now and then squeezing her hand, which he constantly held.
Afterward, there was a big celebration, with rum punch served from a big wooden vat. There was roast suckling pig, cassava pies, of course, and all sorts of banana dishes. Jade noted with interest there were two wedding cakes. The groom’s cake was decorated with gold leaf, symbolizing prosperity, Bryan informed her, while the bride’s was a kind of fruitcake, decorated with silver leaf and uniquely topped with a tiny, tiny cedar tree which would be transplanted to the lawn of her new house with great ceremony before she officially left her father’s home.
The music made Jade tap her toes and sway to the rhythm. Until now; she had not realized how much she had missed dancing, though the undulating these people were doing was certainly far removed from the ballet she had performed.
When there was a break in the festivities so that the newlyweds and their families could go and perform the ceremony of planting the cedar tree, Jade and Bryan wandered down to the beach. Neither spoke for long moments as they walked at the water’s edge, the cool water lapping kittenishly at their bare feet. But then suddenly Bryan turned and took her in his arms almost roughly. Their eyes met and held—Jade’s a mixture of fright and confusion, while Bryan’s smoldered with the desire he’d fought against all these long weeks. Slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers, and she froze, unable to resist, not truly wanting to, although a small voice deep within told her she should. His kiss made her sway dizzily in his arms. He held her tightly against him, his hands moving gently up and down the bare flesh of her back. His tongue touched hers, and finally, she was able to muster the will to pull away.
“Dammit, Jade, I’ve wanted to do that for a long, long time,” he admitted. “If I’ve offended you, I’m sorry, but I won’t apologize for the way I feel.”
She bowed her head, tucking it beneath his chin. The thick mat of hair on his chest tickled her nose, but she did not care as she struggled within for the proper words to speak, lest she spoil the tender moment. Dear God, it was too soon…too soon to have desire so easily kindled. But she was a woman, a passionate woman, as she’d learned in Colt’s loving arms, and she could not apologize for having a need that was only natural and normal. But she was afraid to cope with such a situation yet.
With a deep, shuddering sigh, she forced herself to meet his fiery gaze. “Not now, Bryan,” she whispered. “Maybe not ever. I can’t say for sure. I can’t even ask you for time to find out. All I know is—not now.”
He gave her a crooked grin, and suddenly the almost mischievous side of him that she adored returned. “Time? The lady wants time? You forget, princess, that on the islands time is as eternal as the sea and sand. So don’t hesitate to ask for time, because I assure you, you’ll have all you need, and I’ll be here waiting. Now, let’s get back to the party.”
Hand in hand, each lost once more in the heaven and hell of their private thoughts, they left the beach, silently acknowledging that nothing would ever be the same between them.
Chapter Fourteen
In the following weeks, Jade and Bryan experienced a new awareness of each other.
Jade could no longer think of Bryan as a mere friend and savior, for once he had kissed her, arousing sleeping passion, her sensual cognizance of him as a man was also awakened. This created tension and provoked perplexing emotions of need versus guilt. Was it too soon to experience such feelings? Was to do so disrespectful to Colt’s memory? She attempted to defend against her nagging conscience by arguing that emotions such as desire and need know no bounds of conformity or decorum.
Jade also wondered if what she was feeling for Bryan was purely physical. Could she be falling in love? Oh, she knew there was no way she could feel that same surging, all-encompassing love she’d felt for Colt, but there was something there, something in her heart that wasn’t entirely gratitude and friendship. Yet she had to ask herself whether she was merely clinging to Bryan as she’d clung to that crate in the ocean, making him a human lifeline in her own personal sea of turmoil.
These were questions Jade pondered almost every waking moment, and her sleep was haunted, also, by dreams of both men. She would envision herself in a man’s arms, and the face of that man would change from Bryan to Colt back to Bryan. It was as though her subconscious was telling her she had to make a choice. But why? Colt was dead, gone forever. The choice could not be physical, therefore, and so the turmoil within continued.
Bryan had at first told himself that he merely fit a bond with Jade due to his empathy with her heartache. He had also acknowledged her rare and regal beauty. Then, as they shared more and more time together, getting to know each other, the bond grew—along with desire. Ultimately, he was forced to admit that he truly wanted her, loved her…and would let nothing stand in his way of having her for always. Yet in order to accomplish this, he knew he had to deal with a formidable foe—the ghost of Colt Coltrane.
The tension was there between them, but on the surface, all seemed normal. They continued to spend their days happily sailing, reading, gardening…enjoying life in their isle of pleasure.
One morning, Bryan suggested a picnic and had Amelia prepare a basket of crisp, fried potato cakes, baked banana bread, fruit, and a bottle of wine. Then he and Jade took to the sailboat, for a brisk wind was blowing across the island; it would be a good day for sailing.
Bryan warily eyed the whitecaps of the waves ahead as they sailed from the channel. When he’d awakened, the sky had promised a good day. Now he had his doubts. “There might be a storm brewing,” he said, noting the gray underlining of the stratus clouds. “It’s that time of year. Maybe we should turn back.”
“Oh, no, don’t,” Jade protested, looking skyward. It didn’t look so bad to her. “If I’m not afraid, you shouldn’t be. After what I went through, I’m surprised I can even get on a boat again, much less go sailing with a single cloud in the sky, but we can stay close to shore if yo
u’re worried.”
He agreed without reluctance. After all, they weren’t far from shore at any point, could make land if a big blow came.
The sailboat was small, room for two to sit when idly skimming the water’s surface. They drank of the sweet air, enjoyed the cooling breeze on their faces. Jade noted it was almost October and asked how bad the winters were in Bermuda.
“What winters? Summer lasts from late April to mid-November, and it’s warmest in July, August, and mid-September. Then it’s not unusual to see temperatures dip into the low sixties, but rarely ever any lower.”
“Certainly a change from Russia,” she quipped, then curiously asked, “What about winters in New York?”
“That’s an altogether different story. Snow. Sleet. Ice. Freezing temperatures. I much prefer Bermuda. That’s one reason I want to live here—the nice weather and the peace and quiet.”
Jade wondered whether she’d be content to remain in such a paradise all the time. More and more lately, she found herself missing people and all the activities usually available in modern civilization. Most of all, she was missing her dancing. She tried to keep up with her basic exercises, but she had no barre and so could not do the advanced positions. She knew that if she didn’t keep up with her practicing, she was going to lose all that she’d worked for, making it difficult to conduct a good ballet school. She hadn’t voiced any of these fears to Bryan; if he found out she needed anything—anything at all—he’d move heaven and earth to get it for her. He would install a barre, build a mirrored room just for practicing, send to France for the finest pointe shoes and costumes, whatever she desired. Did it really matter? If she remained on the island, she would never dance the ballet again. And yet another fact assailed her perplexed mind: remaining on the island would, sooner or later, mean a relationship with Bryan—marriage…or otherwise. She looked up at him through lowered lashes. He was everything a woman could want in a man—but would she ever be ready for another commitment?
Bryan sensed her staring at him and pleasantly inquired, “What are you thinking, princess?”
She’d long ago gotten over the stab of pain that came when he called her that. Now she was able to smile back and say, “Just woolgathering. It’s a nice day for dreaming.”
He was sitting with his arm about her, and he pulled her closer, and it seemed only natural to Jade that she bend her head to lean against his shoulder. The fondness was there. The attraction was obvious. Only the inner turmoil of each stood in the way of further advancement of their relationship. It was as though they had reached a plateau and could go no further.
“There!” Bryan sat up to excitedly point at a small island in the distance. “I’d almost forgotten about it. Marnia and I used to come here when she was looking for some really exotic shells for her collection. There’s a small cave in the coral there, and sometimes shells wash up inside that you don’t find anywhere else.”
Jade caught his enthusiasm and moved to help him maneuver the proud white sail toward the remote island. Like the rest of Bermuda, the sand was tinted pink, and with the swaying palms and banana trees, it seemed yet another glimpse of heaven.
The boat glided easily toward the beach like a feather skimming glass. Bryan rolled up his trouser legs and leaped into the water when they drew close to shore and guided them the rest of the way so as not to hit any coral reefs that might be lurking beneath.
He helped her alight and they went in search of the ideal spot to have their picnic. Jade looked around and saw so many different shells she’d never seen before, declared that she had to take some back with her. Bryan promised they’d fill the basket after they’d eaten.
Beneath a shady palm, they spread the pink cloth Amelia had packed, along with small plates and goblets for wine. “She thought of everything,” Jade said, pleased, laying out the delicious fare.
Bryan opened the wine, poured for each, and they toasted to the glorious day.
“And to us,” Bryan added, sending her a special message with his eyes.
Jade responded in kind, “And to us,” and wondered if her own longing showed as well.
The wind began to pick up while they were eating, and Bryan uneasily said that perhaps they’d better hurry and start back. “We can get your shells the next time.”
Jade was starting to agree with him because the clouds were becoming thicker, darker. A heavy haze began to descend. Suddenly the wind died down, and the atmosphere around them became very still. The air felt heavy, pressing. At that, Bryan stood. “I don’t think we should risk heading back now,” he stated. “Looks like we’re going to have one of those sudden blows that can be dangerous to small craft. I’ll drag the boat up, lower the sail, and try to secure it.”
He ran down the beach and Jade quickly began to gather up their things, repacking the basket. By the time she finished, the wind had picked up once more, this time with a slow, shrill scream that rose and fell like the cry of a banshee, sending chills of terror up and down her spine. Bryan returned, grabbed her hand tightly, and shouted above the wind, “Let’s get to the cave. It’s facing against the wind, and there’s a high ledge we can crawl up on where we’ll be safe. I don’t think this will last long.”
They ran the short distance to the cave, stumbling inside just as the skies opened and the rain washed down in torrents. Inside, the light was dim, but they could see their way to scramble up on the shelves of coral till they reached the ledge Bryan felt was safe.
There they huddled together and as the moments ticked by and the storm raged outside, they became increasingly aware that there was also another tempest brewing within the sanctuary of their cave—within themselves. At precisely the same moment, they turned, eyes meeting in a communion of longing which was rising in a crescendo with the raging wind and rumbling thunder of the world outside. But they were in their own universe, their own sphere, and it was as though no other time had ever existed for either, no other life, nor love. They moved into each other’s arms as fluidly as the tide touches the shore, lips meeting in a searing kiss. The passion was ignited, and they each silently acknowledged that there would be no turning back.
Bryan lowered her to the cool coral ledge, and as his tongue explored her mouth, his hands likewise traveled over her body, slowly, savoring each curve and valley, delighting in all that he had coveted for so very long.
Jade gave of herself freely, yielding to his touch. Her hands clutched his shoulders, smoothly dancing across his skin to hold him against her closely, wordlessly assuring him that she was no longer afraid, no longer unsure. Then he was nimbly unfastening her dress to slide the bodice down to expose her breasts. He lowered his head, and she burrowed her fingers into the thick golden hair at the back of his head as his lips parted to take the rosebud nipple between his teeth. She moaned, writhed beneath his gentle assault.
His hand began to travel downward, trailing to part her throbbing thighs and explore the warm moisture of the nucleus of her womanhood. Fire licked at her veins as she responded to his touch without inhibition.
He tore himself from her breasts to hungrily reclaim her mouth, near bruising her lips with his urgency. Jade clutched him, clawed at his back. His clothing was the only barrier between them—an intolerable separation. With quick and eager fingers, she helped him from his garments, their breath coming in steaming gasps, bodies shuddering in a blend of torturous agony and ecstasy. Stretching out over her, he fitted the gentle curves of her body against his. She could feel him, knew he wanted her as fervently as she wanted him. She felt him probing, tensed at the unfamiliar violation, then huskily urged him on with the undulations of her body.
Outside the coral cave, the storm was abating. The winds and seas were calming. The waves quieted their angry crashing against the beach; instead, lovingly caressing with a whisper of foam upon the pink sand.
Within the coral cave, a storm of passion between two previously tormented souls was also abating. They had reached the magic pinnacle together, cre
sted as the heart of a storm, then cruised softly, gently, back to the world from which they’d departed for long, frenzied, delightful, and satisfying moments.
Bryan rolled to his side, taking her with him to hold tightly, possessively, against his chest. “I love you,” he avowed in a hoarse, ragged whisper. “I think I loved you the minute I laid eyes on you. Fate brought us together.”
Jade pressed her face against his perspiration-slick chest and did not, could not, speak. She was too confused, too overcome with the wonder and perplexity of the moment.
“Marry me!”
It was almost like a command, so sharply spoken that Jade was abruptly brought back to reality. Twisting her head so she could see his face in the gentle shadows of the sunlight now invading their private sanctum, she searched his face for an answer she knew she would not find there.
“I’ll make you happier than you ever dreamed possible, Jade,” he recklessly declared. “I’ll build you a new house, a palace, one that you can design yourself, if you want. Closer to people. Hamilton, if you want. Anywhere on the island. You’ll live like a queen, I swear it.”
He lowered his head, intending to bestow a sealing kiss, but she turned away. She did not want to be kissed. Not now. The passion had subsided, for the hunger had been fed, and, in place of the whirlwind of ecstasy and anticipation there existed only a nagging void of doubt and uncertainty.
“Jade, why are you afraid of me?” Bryan asked quietly. “You know I’d never do anything to hurt you. You know I’d spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy. We’ve both lost the ones we loved, but now we’ve found each other, and we’ve got a chance to love again, live again, if only you’ll let go of the past and let it happen.”
“Time…” She mouthed the word against his skin as he lovingly stroked her long red-gold hair. “I need time, Bryan, please.”
He sucked in his breath raggedly, let it out slowly and reluctantly said all right, he understood, or at least he would pretend to. “Just tell me that you love me,” he urged softly. “Tell me that you care for me, and I’ll have that much to cling to while I’m waiting for you to let go of the ghost.”
Love and Dreams: The Coltrane Saga, Book 6 Page 13
