The Rebel's Bride
Page 29
Ransom grinned ruefully. “Yes, I told you that and, at the time, it was true, but no longer. You see, Catherine, I not only want a wife, I have one.”
Catherine’s groan was followed by a burst of struggling against him. “You bastard!” she screamed, slapping at his body. “How could you use me like this?”
He pinned her quickly to the bed, his weight sufficient to subdue her.
“I didn’t use you, Cat. I only wanted to consummate our marriage,” he exclaimed, almost laughing outright when she froze to stare at him as if he had gone mad. “It is true, my love. I have the papers in my coat to prove it, but you will have to take my word for it for the time being since I will not release you until you believe me.”
Catherine frowned, confused and unconvinced. “That is not possible. There was no wedding. Certainly, I would remember something that important.”
“Not if you were unconscious,” he grinned crookedly. He knew it was time to explain, but he couldn’t do it with her pressed so intimately to him. Rising, he moved to sit beside her. She made a frantic effort to cover her nakedness and he let her, needing the shield between them more than she.
“The wine you drank with Mother was laced with laudanum,” he began. “I had you drugged so you could not resist the ceremony.”
“You what?” she gasped, wiggling about to sit as far from him as the covers allowed. “That is preposterous! You couldn’t have done such a thing!”
“Of course I could,” he shrugged. “If you recall, I wed you the first time when you were unconscious.”
“Why?” she croaked, her voice fairly shaking with the impact of his deed.
Ransom’s face softened. “I told you, Catherine, I love you.” He thoroughly enjoyed the myriad of expressions crossing her face. “You have captured my heart, now I have captured you.”
“Y-you really love me?” she asked.
“Yes, my beautiful Cat. I really love you.”
Her eyes misted but she said nothing.
Growing nervous with her silence, Ransom rose and went to the pile of his clothing. As he rummaged for the documents that would support his words, he missed the admiration and adoration that filled her eyes.
Finding the papers, he stood holding them. “I can prove I speak the truth, Cat,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly as he prepared to present them.
Catherine moved silently from the bed to come up behind him. “There is no need, Ransom,” she breathed, placing her hand on his back. Sensuously, she moved it down his spine. His breath drew and held as she traced the curve of his buttock. “You captured my heart a long time ago. Now the rest of me can follow.”
Her breasts teased at his back, making him tremble with renewed desire, but she seemed not yet ready to release him from her power. “I love you, Ransom. I am as much at fault for our troubles as you. Pride and fear kept me from declaring my love months ago.” She continued to move her body about his intoxicatingly until she stood before him. Her eyes raised to meet his. “Let us begin, here and now, to trust that love,” she said clearly. Her hand moved up his arm to circle his neck.
She was seducing him quite nicely, but he tired of the game. Bringing his arms about her tiny waist, he drew her against his arousal. She gasped. “Let us begin, here and now, to make love,” he grinned crookedly. “We have a lifetime for the rest.”
* * *
Catherine snuggled beneath the blankets, trying to get warm. If Ransom didn’t come to bed soon, she was sure she would freeze to death. A late snow had them all confined to the house since their return from the short stay in their honeymoon cottage two days before.
She smiled when she remembered the three anxious faces that had greeted them when they rode up atop Ransom’s horse. Since it was impossible to conceal the joy in their own faces, the others had sighed in relief the moment they saw them.
Margaret seemed the most pleased. Tears spilled from her eyes when Catherine hugged and thanked her for her part in bringing them to their senses.
The gathering had moved to a quickly prepared meal and she had had to endure the ribald comments flung about between Ransom and Holden. It was at that moment she realized how close the two friends really were, and what they had endured together during the war. As they shared their stories, she slipped away. Although only gone from her son for half a day, her breasts were full.
In all the memories she and Ransom would store in their lifetime, one of the most precious occurred when he followed her upstairs moments after she left him at the table with his family. As she drew her gown down off her shoulder to bare her breast to her son’s anxious mouth, Ransom entered the nursery and knelt beside her chair, his face filled with the wonder of watching her nurture his son with her body.
“I love you,” he said gently, covering her hand where it held their son to her. “Both of you,” he amended with a smile.
Phillip, hearing the deep timber of an unknown voice, twisted about to look at his father. A drop of milk formed on his little mouth and Ransom reached to take the white fluid to his finger. With his eyes gazing into hers, he placed his finger in his mouth.
“The circle is complete,” he said huskily. “I have given you my seed. You nurtured it in your womb and delivered us a fine son. Now I have consumed a part of you and will use it to nurture the love I have for you.”
* * *
The bedroom door opened and Catherine sighed, still thrilled with the memory of those words. She waited as Ransom moved about the room. She knew he thought she was asleep and wondered how long he would wait to wake her. She almost laughed when he began to move about in the bed within moments of slipping in beside her.
“I love you,” she murmured and heard him growl softly.
Catherine knew the fulfillment of her womanhood as she held him in her arms and heard his whispered words of love. She knew now that they were spoken from the depths of his heart. Never again would she doubt. Never again would she stand alone. Whatever faced them in the future, they would be together, bound in a love eternal.
THE END
JoAnn DeLazzari
From the time JoAnn could read, the written word became a passion. She could be anyone and go anywhere. Married for over thirty years to husband Tom, she has been blesssed with a man who supports her passion for writing. Stimulated by several authors, she found the literary world as fascinating as the real one and set out to write a novel. And re-write as she learned the craft.
Her first book, Scoundrel’s Captive, introduced her to the wonderful world of networking and travel. Scoundrel’s Desire opened the doors to feminine bonding from all over the world. When not writing, she works full time, fishes whenever possible with her husband, and still keeps reading, researching and learning.