by Kimberly Nee
He rose, unable to hold back his smile as he slowly crept back over her, ready to claim her as his for once and for all. She reached for him, her hands curving against his shoulders, a sleepy smile playing at her lips as she murmured, “Is that all?”
“Is that all? Hardly.” He nudged his hips between her thighs and braced one hand above her while easing his free hand into the thatch of pale curls. Her eyes widened as he slid a finger into her, followed by another. He teased her again, stroking her with delicate precision to draw her back to the cliff’s edge.
Her eyes grew heavy-lidded and a flush swept through her, one that fired his blood. It grew hotter still as she whispered, “Rafe…please…”
“Please what, sweetheart?” He crooked his fingers slightly to stroke from a different angle, and her back arched. “Do you want this again? Or me?”
“Oh, God…you…” Passion flushed her cheeks, made her eyes sparkle, and he pulled away long enough to shed his breeches. Her fingernails sank into his shoulders as he came up over her and slid deep. Her entire body seemed to wrap around him, her knees pressed into his sides, her hips rising and falling in perfect rhythm with his. He drove hard, the sweet fire of his own impending climax growing stronger with each swift thrust.
She felt amazing, this woman whom he loved with every bit of his soul, and when he peaked, he growled her name into her neck, his body claiming hers. His back arched, his muscles locked and peaceful bliss flooded him as he sank onto her, fighting for his breath.
Beneath him, her heart pounded against her ribs, the vibrations skittering through him with each beat. Her fingers slipped through his hair, the sensation against his scalp enough to make him sleepy. His eyelids drooped and he sighed into her warm skin. “Katie…”
He’d be damned if she ever left this bed again. He wanted to make love to her until she couldn’t walk, wanted to tease every inch of her, to taste what he could and make her cry out his name again and again. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought. To hell with them all. And if it meant leaving St. Phillippe, that was fine with him. All that mattered was making Katie his in every way possible. He’d lost her once. He was not going to lose her again.
He shifted, stretching out beside her to draw her into his arms. She curved against him, her head coming to rest on his chest. Her hair, soft and silky, spilled across his skin, and he couldn’t resist the urge to touch it. She had beautiful hair. It truly was her crowning glory.
She lifted her head to peer at him. Her eyes were not exactly innocent, as she’d seen far too much in her life. Seen too much and done too much. He knew what she was, or rather, what she had been, but he’d made his peace with it. She had done what she had to in order to survive, and selling herself had been her only real option.
His fingers lazily swept lightly over her arm, and he smiled down at her. The first time he’d seen her, in that smoky taproom in Jamaica, he’d wanted to brush her off and walk past her. He’d seen her sort in every port into which he sailed, one step above a guttersnipe. He’d avoided dockside whores completely, preferring the lovely ladies to be found at Madame Zeta’s.
But Katie had been determined, and that determination had come on behalf of a friend who had no one else upon whom she could depend. Vanessa had been alone, penniless, frightened and grieving for the man she’d thought she’d lost. Katie had felt her pain. And she had certainly known about loneliness.
As soon as Katie had mentioned Aidrian, Rafe had known he would help them, no matter how pathetic he’d found Katie. He’d quickly learned how he’d underestimated her. Their first night together had come about accidentally, when Aidrian and Vanessa had been reuniting in their suite. Katie had surprised him with her skill at darts, even being able to shoot backwards, with her eyes closed. After many tankards of rum, she’d begun to tease him about his lack of skill at tavern games. Not to be outdone, he’d taken her up on her challenge and tried it himself, missing the dartboard entirely, his dart sticking out of the wall. The next throw was even worse, as he’d nearly blinded the crusty old pirate sitting at a table minding his own business. By the third one, he hadn’t even tried to hit the wall where the dartboard was mounted, throwing the dart straight up into the ceiling instead. With that attempt, Katie had laughed, thrown her arms around him and kissed him.
He didn’t know who had been more shocked, her or him. But her kiss had been sweet and fiery at the same time, and he’d wanted more. She’d looked at him, much the same way she looked at him now, and had melted against him. By the time dawn broke, they had been tangled up in the linens of his bed, spent and sated, both fighting to drag air into their lungs.
“What’s on your mind, Rafe?” Her whisper broke the veil of memory. The light was low now, the candle almost extinguished. They didn’t have much time left. The sun would rise, and she’d have to sneak away.
“I was thinking about the night we met.”
Her gaze wavered, dipped to his chest and then came back up to meet his eyes. “I wish I’d never told you what I was, although I don’t suppose I could have hidden it well. You would have found out before long.”
“Stop it.” Linens crinkled as he rolled atop her, pinning her firmly beneath him. “I don’t give a damn, Katie. It doesn’t matter to me. Not anymore.”
“It will to everyone else.”
He rose onto his forearms, dipping in to kiss her gently on the forehead. “When I return from New York, it will be to get you. And from there, we will decide where we go. I’m not making the same mistake I made before. Your past is the past. My past is the past. We all have one, and I’ll be damned if I let yours stand in the way of what either of us wants.”
“You say that now. But you’ve said it before.”
Shame swirled through him. He had said those words before and yet his actions had showed otherwise. He hated himself for his cowardice. “I know. And I know you don’t necessarily believe me, and I can’t fault you for it, but at some point you will have to trust me. These last months have been hell for me, knowing how badly I hurt you.”
“How do I know you won’t do that again?”
She didn’t trust him. Not completely. Although he knew he deserved no less, it still pricked at him with pins of irritation. He knew he’d done wrong, and had admitted as much to her. Was she going to keep bringing it up?
“I have no way to assure you, other than to show you. And that means you’re going to have to trust me,” he repeated, trying to keep his voice even. The last thing he wanted to do was fight with her. Especially now. They had only a few hours of darkness left and then he’d be leaving, and only God knew how long he’d be gone. “I’d take you with me now, but emotions are bound to be running high. Everyone on board the Eastwind had either friends or family on the Octavius, and I don’t know what caused her to sink, whether it was solely weather-related or partly human error. Either way, the last thing I want is for you to be in the middle of a group of furious sailors who may be out for blood. I’d rather you not be near an angry mob if at all possible. It’s also going to be cold there, and I’ve the feeling you don’t have the wardrobe for such weather. I don’t want you to catch your death because of the snow.”
He tried to smile, but failed. None of this was humorous. So many things could conspire to keep him from returning to Bermuda, and he didn’t want either of them to remember an argument as the last words they spoke to one another.
“I’m trying to trust you, Rafe.” Her voice was low, not quite a whisper, and her eyes were wide as she gazed up at him.
Then it hit him. She’d never known anything other than loss and betrayal. As far back as she could remember, or at least as far back as she was willing to tell him, everyone in her life had been temporary.
Loss. Grief. Betrayal. She was intimately familiar with all three.
And he’d done the exact same thing. Only worse, he’d chosen to do it.
Her eyes gleamed in the candlelight, looking shimmery and luminescent. She blinked, slowly at first then a little faster. Tears. She was holding back tears, although she wasn’t entirely successful.
Damn, he hated seeing her cry, hated even more that he was the reason for it. He rolled to pull her atop him, and sought her lips with his for a slow kiss that reawakened his fiery lust for her.
He broke the kiss long enough to whisper, “I give you my word. Never again.”
Another roll and she was pinned beneath him. The smooth sheets tangled about them, bringing them even closer to one another.
Katie slid her arms about his waist, pulling him completely into her, and whispered, “Promise me.”
“With everything I am,” he murmured, and seized her mouth again, determined to prove himself with every touch, every movement and every fiber of his being. Somehow, he’d make her realize that he was not going to hurt her again.
Ever.
Chapter Seventeen
Katie couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so soundly. Her bed seemed softer than usual, almost what she imagined floating on a cloud would feel like. The sheets were smooth. Perhaps all she had needed was a good night’s sleep. She stretched, smiling at how wonderful even that felt. It was going to be a good day, no doubt.
Then she opened her eyes, and the pale light of dawn was pouring into the room through the doors leading to the terrace.
The doors.
Leading to the terrace.
The only door in her room led to the maids’ passageway, and there were no terraces of any sort. And the only source of light in her room came through a window that was high up on the wall.
Every last pleasant feeling drained like water from a leaking tub as she gaped at the clock on the marble mantel (no marble mantels to be found in the servants’ quarters either). Almost six in the morning.
“Oh, bloody hell!” she breathed, throwing Rafe’s arm from where it lay draped over her belly and kicking off the light sheet. She dove into the fading shadows along the far side of the bed, scrabbling through the half-light to find every bit of her clothing that had gone flying off the night before. Which was no easy task, considering her heart pounded against her ribs with enough force to crack one. Breathing wasn’t easy as her sense of panic grew and raced through her.
The sheets rustled, and then Rafe was there beside her, whispering, “What time do your fellow maids rise?”
“Now!” Katie couldn’t keep the fear from her voice. She trusted Martha not to tell anyone that she wasn’t in their room, but she still had to somehow sneak down and get through the kitchen without being discovered coming from the bachelors’ wing. How the devil was she supposed to do that? “Someone—Lucy, most likely—will be banging on our door any moment to wake us, only I’m not there!”
It wasn’t the first time Rafe had helped her to dress, but his speed at corset-lacing still amazed her. When she glanced back at the clock, she found it had taken her less than five minutes to dress. Probably the fastest she’d ever gotten into her clothes. But it might not be fast enough to keep her from being caught.
She made to lunge for the door, but Rafe snagged her about the waist and crushed her back against his chest. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, sweetheart. I promise.”
Katie savored his squeeze, accepted his quick kiss, and replied, “You’d better. And you’d better stay safe as well,” before hurrying down the corridor and back up to the maids’ quarters, all the while praying she met no one along the way.
Lucy must be off to a late start, thank the Maker, and when Katie ducked into her chambers, it was to find Martha dressing for the day. She looked over her shoulder at Katie and smiled. “You do like to take chances, don’t you?”
Her heart hammering wildly against her ribs, Katie sagged back against the door, fighting to catch her breath. “I didn’t know I could run without making a sound. I was convinced Mrs. Bates or Mrs. North was going to pop out and ask me where I was coming from.”
“Do I need to ask how your evening went?” Martha’s grin turned sly as she tugged the small white cap over her head and tucked a stray wisp of dark hair beneath it. “At least tell me it was worth it.”
“Most definitely worth it. Oh, Martha, ‘worth it’ doesn’t even come close.” The smile taking over Katie’s face had to be a foolish one, but she didn’t care. She could giggle and smile like a madwoman, and not have Martha gawking at her as if she was indeed mad. Martha understood, and they could share such things. They’d giggle like madwomen together.
At the same time, she didn’t wish to share everything. Some things were meant to be kept close and tucked away, and her night with Rafe was one of them. “I imagine it was the same as the stolen moments you and Robert manage to find.”
Martha’s cheeks tinged red, and her smile widened. “That wonderful? I’m so happy to hear that.”
There was a swift, sharp bang on their door, followed by Lucy’s equally sharp, “Six o’clock! Time to rise!”
Katie sighed, her smile fading. In a few hours, Rafe would be leaving, and she would only be able to hope he returned. “He has to leave for the Colonies this morning.”
“Why so soon? I thought he was going to be here a bit longer.”
“So did he, but apparently there was some sort of emergency. A missive came for Captain Sebastiano—his father—during dinner last evening.” Katie moved around the screen to change into fresh livery. “But when he comes back…”
Martha’s face popped around the screen. “He’s asked for your hand?”
Katie spun around, clad in only her chemise, holding her corset against her like a shield. Then she sighed, shaking her head as her spirits came floating back to earth. “No. Not exactly. And if he had, I don’t know I’d have accepted.”
“Well, why the deuce not? Turn around. I’ll get your back.”
Katie offered Martha her back, and Martha began the task of lacing the corset. “What if he sides with his family again? To say they won’t be happy would be an understatement.”
“If he does, then he doesn’t deserve you.” Martha’s voice was flat as she tugged sharply on the cords. “And you should never give him another chance. Not ever.”
“I don’t know if I can risk my heart again,” Katie replied quietly. “Nothing ever hurt as badly as when he turned away from me. I don’t know if I can do it again.”
Martha spun her about and caught her by the shoulders. “If he did it again, I’d help you make him regret it more than anything else he’s ever done. I promise you I would.”
“Thank you.” Katie moved out from behind the screen to the modest wardrobe, to fetch a fresh dress. “He’s already spoken to Lady Sally. She isn’t happy, but I gather she wasn’t terribly upset either.”
“Did he tell her about you?”
“No. He isn’t a fool, you know.” Katie dressed in the clean garment and went to work combing and braiding her hair. She pinned the braids up, tucked them beneath her lacy cap. “But I imagine she will spend a good deal of time in her rooms over the coming days.”
As she and Martha left to make their way into the kitchen, Katie’s thoughts were nowhere near the lower floors of Marchand Hall, and by mid-morning, as she was on her way to Lady Sally’s chambers with the laundry basket in hand, the last of her glow from the previous night had faded. She knew Rafe had taken his leave because she’d seen him at the front door, thanking the Earl and Countess for their hospitality. Lady Sally had been with her mother and father, and although she had looked wan, she had kissed Rafe on the cheek and wished him a safe voyage and quick return.
As Lady Sally had leaned in to give him that kiss, he’d met Katie’s gaze. His lips had turned up ever so slightly, and he’d winked. Without thinking, she’d winked right back, which had made him smile a bit wider. Then Lady Sally had pulled back and Rafe’s expression had
become neutral once more, while Katie had had to turn and duck her head before her warm cheeks could betray her.
She was in the midst of gathering wrinkled hose from the corner of her Ladyship’s room—how did they get behind the mirror?—when the door swung open and Lady Sally wafted in. She moved listlessly, like an early morning fog tired from a long night sweeping the sands, and crumpled into her favorite chair by the windows, overlooking the beach and cove below. It was the first time Katie had seen her up close, since Lady Sally hadn’t called for breakfast or assistance in dressing, and her guilt surged forth at full strength when she got a good look at how her Ladyship was handling the loss of Rafe.
She looked ill. Pale. Exhausted. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. She might have put up a valiant front for Rafe, but to Katie she looked as if she’d been up all night, crying her eyes out in the process. Her gown was a crushed, creased mess. From the looks of it, Lady Sally had taken to throwing herself prone on whatever flat surface was available.
Since she wasn’t supposed to know what had happened, all Katie could do was drop the stockings in the basket and ask, “What troubles you, m’lady?”
“Nothing.” A heavy sigh wrapped around the single word as her Ladyship stared out the window. Katie peered out as well, wondering if perhaps Rafe’s ship was sailing past. But no. The harbor was northeast of them, on the other side of the island. They wouldn’t see him until he appeared in the doorway when he returned.
“I beg your pardon, m’lady, but you don’t look as if nothing troubles you.” Katie carted her basket over to the hamper where Lady Sally deposited most of her clothes. Most of them, because the lady had a bad habit of tossing things like stockings and chemises wherever she happened to be in her chambers when she undressed. Quite often, Katie had to hunt high and low so nothing was missed when it was laundered.
“It seems I won’t be marrying Captain Sebastiano after all.” Lady Sally stared out the window morosely, her chin propped on her fist. Another heavy, dramatic sigh followed her words.
