“Oh, of course. My apologies.” He checked his stride and pulled her more closely to his side. His warmth seeped into hers, and the pressure of his strong fingers lingered where he’d touched her waist. Her heart fluttered. Surely the imprint of his hand was permanently tattooed to her flesh. Tingles rushed straight to her head. A little off balance she snuggled into him, resting her cheek briefly against his arm. Heaven above, this felt so right.
* * *
“Kirsten!” Molly Jamison whispered sharply to her daughter. “I thought you were handling Dr. Langston.”
Annoyed, Kirsten spun from the shop window she’d been peering through. The lavender ribbon sitting in the front was exactly the shade she’d been searching for. “I am, Mother. I can’t help it if the man is busy every night and turns down every invitation to dinner.”
“Well, he doesn’t appear busy at the moment.”
“What?” Kirsten spun around, her gaze instantly honing in on the towering figure of Craig Langston. He was impossible to miss with those amazingly broad shoulders and the fine cut of his uniform. Why… the thought fizzled in her mind as the sight of Craig walking arm in arm with the woman from the hospital materialized before her. Kirsten could have spit fire. From her vantage point on the street corner it was obvious Craig hung on her every word.
The man was rich, incredibly good looking, a doctor and, oh, had she said rich? More like rolling in money. In light of her father’s waning funds Kirsten and her mother had seized the opportunity to pursue him, no holds barred, when he’d been transferred back to Charleston, and… the only thing better than becoming his wife would be becoming his widow. All of that money. Kirsten clenched a fist. If that McClafferty woman got in her way...
“Who is that young lady with Dr. Langston?” Another woman, Mrs. Porter, inquired, sidling up behind them. “I don’t believe I’ve met her.” The known gossip gaped across the street with open interest.
“Oh, that is Genie Harris’s niece from Atlanta,” Molly Jamisnon said. “She works at the hospital, not as a lady volunteer, but as something of an... orderly. A common drudge.” Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “I’m amazed you haven’t heard about her before this.”
“As am I,” Kirsten said. “Why, rumors have been flying about for several weeks.” Kirsten, having started those rumors herself, had been delighted in the way they’d grown and spread.
“Ah... Even out on the farm, I’ve heard bits and pieces about a most unladylike young woman from Atlanta working at the hospital,” Mrs. Porter murmured. “So that is the one, is it?” Her round eyes flicked left and right as her voice dropped. “Dr. Langston appears quite taken with the girl.”
“He most certainly is not. At least not in any proper way.” Kirsten snorted, more than prepared to cast further aspersions on the other the woman’s reputation. “She is not from Atlanta either. She is from the north.” With that declaration even Mrs. Porter fell dead silent. “Since you haven’t met her, you haven’t heard her accent. It is quite obvious. And you know,” Kirsten added confidingly, knowing the story she was about to impart would be all over Charleston before the end of the next day, “she’s been seen leaving the quarters of several different officers, quite often late at night.”
“Oh my.” Mrs. Porter clapped a hand to her mouth. “And Genie Harris’s niece? I never would have imagined, though I think we all suspect where Genie’s true sympathies lie. After all, think of how she’s befriended that pair who work for her. You don’t think her niece could be—” Mrs. Porter’s eyes widened in horrified speculation.
“What? Slipping into the beds of our officers to gain information to leak to the Yankees?” Kirsten now had the attention of several citizens passing by on the street. The tone and tenor of her voice rose. “I have heard that, and truly, is it so hard to believe she’s the sort of woman to make ‘special’ house calls as some of the men have been saying? And,” her eyes swept the eager bystanders dramatically, “what better place to work than in an army hospital if you’re searching for information about enemy troops?”
The reaction of the group gathered round was more than she could have hoped for. Oh, yes, this Marissa McClafferty would be little more than a bump in the road to snaring Craig Langston and his money. With any luck, Craig would learn of the rumors and be done with the little trollop by the end of the week.
* * *
“Please tell me where we’re going!” Marissa begged in good-natured excitement as Craig led her to the outskirts of the city.
“I told you it’s a surprise.” He winked down at her and leaned close as though to tell her a secret, his warm breath tickling her ear. “We’re almost there, I promise.” His lips lingered and she felt him brush them across her hair. As they approached the embankment along the seaside she wondered at the wisdom of letting him bring her to his secluded place… alone. In this day and age a woman had little more than her reputation.
Craig led her up a narrow trail along the top of the bluff, glancing back every so often to grin as she gazed in amazement at the indescribable landscape surrounding them.
Taking advantage of the solitude, Marissa released his arm and slipped her fingers intimately through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He returned the gesture, dropping to an even more leisurely pace, their linked arms swinging between them. Craig wove through a small grove of trees, never letting go of her hand, and then into a grassy clearing overlooking the glittering expanse of the ocean.
Marissa released his hand and walked forward. “Breathtaking,” she murmured, eyes sweeping the unruffled water spreading endlessly before them. The sunlight glittered across the glassy surface and the salty air brushed her face in a gentle caress. Closing her eyes, she relished the warm mixture of the sun and the wind, breathing deeply. At this moment, even if it was for only the briefest of instants, contentment settled in her breast.
Craig’s strong hands came upon her shoulders and a moment later he kissed the sensitive skin along the side of her throat. His fingers brushed a stray tress from the back of her collar and his lips touched the slope of her neck at the very base where every nerve ending seemed to center. Her skin tingled in anticipation of his touch and she turned to him. No thoughts of work or time travel or holding herself from him entered her mind. Right now she was content simply to be with him.
“I come here to be alone and think,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss just above her eye. Tenderly, he brushed a windblown hair from her throat as his lips moved to her cheek. “I thought you might need a place of your own as well.”
They stood so close the heat resonating from his body sent tingles dancing across her skin. He kissed the delicate flesh at the corner of her mouth and the tingles shot straight to her brain. Her lips parted in response, warm, ready. “It’s true,” she whispered, closing her eyes as he kissed the other corner of her mouth. “There are times when I am completely overwhelmed by life. I need a place like this.” She tilted her neck, responding without thought as his lips slid an intoxicating trail down the gentle slope of her throat. His fingers ran light paths up and down her spine until she fairly shivered. “Thank you for sharing your special place with me.”
Lifting her into his arms, Craig’s piercing blue gaze bore into her eyes with such smoldering emotion her breath froze. “There is so much more I want to share with you,” he said. “God help me, Marissa, you feel so good in my arm.”
A heady combination of desire, delight and passion swirled through veins, leaving her light headed and more than a little foolish. She twined her fingers through his hair, angling her face in to meet his lips. “Kiss me.”
* * *
Craig was only too happy to oblige. He kissed her once more full on the mouth, keeping his touch soft, tender, inviting. She trembled.
Cradling her against him he settled her back into the soft bed of tall grass, pressing his mouth more insistently against hers. Her lips w
ere made of the most pliable velvet and he drank in the sweetness of them. Her hair was smoother than silk and it tickled his face. Her skin was pale like fresh cream and he caressed it. And her eyes, oh those eyes, like warm liquid pools of the nighttime sky, they could pull him into oblivion if he wasn’t careful. He didn’t want to be careful. He just wanted Marissa…
“Marissa,” he murmured against her lips.
Craig had never known it could hurt to want a woman, but at this moment he ached for her. His chest grew tight, his fingers thick and awkward, and he didn’t just want her… he needed her. After all the horrors he’d seen in recent years she was the one shining beacon of good in his life. For only a moment he pulled back, clasping her hand to chest. She lay before him, her eyes wide and trusting, and when he leaned forward to kiss her throat once more he could feel the rapid flutter of her pulse. It matched the pounding of his own.
“Are you afraid of me?” he whispered against her mouth, bracing his hands on either side of her.
“Yes, I’m afraid, but not of you.” Her lips parted and he answered the invitation.
She moaned and Craig swallowed the sweet sounds. He wanted to devour her. Explore her. Make love to her.
His hands roamed her still clothed form until she writhed beneath him. She responded to his every touch, and his every kiss, and it was driving him to madness. Her movements were incredible, provocative, and every gasp escaping her mouth prompted the next kiss to be more fervent than the last.
Moving down he kissed the notch at the base of her throat and his fingers traced the edge of her bodice where the tantalizing swell of her breasts peeked over the top. Maneuvering the gown away from her breasts he drew back, claiming just one in a cupped palm and prompting yet another throaty moan. “You are so perfect,” he murmured huskily.
At this moment Craig stood at the very precipice of his self-control, ready to topple over the edge and into... her. And when she began to unfasten the buttons of his jacket he was done. The edge not only loomed near but as she leaned up to strip the garment from his shoulders he heard the wind rush past his ears as he plunged past the point of no return. Her cool fingers dug into his back and a shudder of pure pleasure coursed through him. He couldn’t stop now. This was it.
* * *
Marissa paused for the space of a breath, half sitting, all but gaping at the man before her. He was more man that she’d ever seen. A god… with rock hard, sinewy muscle bulging from every inch of his frame. Making love to him would be ecstasy, but she could be content just to stare at him for hours. Craig, however, obviously had no intention of staring. He moved quickly forward, grasping the back of her neck with his roughened palm, pulling her to him for more mindless kisses. He took her lips hungrily, as though his very life depended on it. The kiss was hot, wet, and all-consuming and she matched him in it stroke for stroke never wanting it to end.
Nothing had ever felt so incredibly good, so right, and so… perfect. A man had never stirred her emotions the way Craig Langston did and now she was positively drowning in passion. She settled herself back more fully in the grass allowing him to lie completely on top of her. She shivered in ecstasy, relishing the thrill of his bare flesh against hers. This man need only touch her to awaken desire as she’d never known it could exist.
Is this love? Lust? Both…?
Their fingers worked together to further loosen their remaining clothes. “Craig...” she moaned, unable to form any other coherent words.
“Marissa,” he whispered breathlessly against her mouth, voice thick with passion. His body poised above her was clearly primed with desire of the most primitive fashion. “I want you,” he rasped, ravishing her neck with his mouth. He moved lower, pressing searing kisses along her collar bone and then to the beginning swell of her right breast. Her exposed nipple ached for his touch. “Are you ready for this?”
His words jarred her back to reality.
What am I doing?
As much as she wanted him she was not ready for what a sexual relationship with a man in this time would ultimately mean. If she committed herself to what he was asking, and what she herself so wanted, it was admitting that she would never get home. She wasn’t ready to accept such a fate.
Brian. The dark face of her former fiancé burned before her eyes, bringing with it thoughts of betrayal and self-doubt. “I--I can’t do this,” she stammered, wriggling out of his suddenly suffocating embrace. “I’m sorry, Craig, I—” She grasped the thin chemise to her exposed breasts and stumbled to her feet while simultaneously attempting to wiggle her arms back into the bodice of her simple dress.
Craig rolled onto his back with a guttural sound that could have been mistaken for a curse, and covered his face with an elbow.
Marissa’s face burned with guilt and embarrassment. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, wanting nothing more than to sink into the earth and disappear.
“No, Marissa, its fine.” He held up a hand, and assumed a kneeling position, the tone of his voice sounding anything but fine. “I should never have put you in this position. I’m the one who should be sorry.” Marissa glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. Despite apparent frustration he was making a valiant effort to be gentlemanly about what had turned into a rather ungentlemanly endeavor.
Turning back away, Marissa took her time fastening her gown, which was missing a couple of crucial buttons, and running fingers through her hair, which in all reality was beyond taming. When at long last her fingers stopped trembling she turned back to him. The sight of his still naked torso set her to trembling all over again. His skin was bronzed and stretched taut over the expanse of his chest. Toned muscles flexed with even the slightest movement and she couldn’t help but liken him to Neptune with the sea glittering in the background. Craig emanated an aura that was, if nothing else, intoxicating. And if she didn’t escape his nearness immediately she would no doubt hurl herself back into those incredibly powerful arms, losing herself in him… forever?
She wasn’t ready for forever.
Breaking into a run she dashed for the grove of trees they’d passed through only a short time before as if the gates of hell had opened beneath her feet.
“Damn!” Craig sprang to his feet pulling the white shirt over his broad shoulders and slinging the woolen uniform jacket over his arm. “Marissa! Marissa, please wait!” He called, rapidly closing the distance between them.
With heavy skirts dragging against her legs it wouldn’t matter if hell really had opened its gaping mouth to swallow her because never would she have been able to outdistance the ground eating strides of Craig Langston. Roughly he grasped her upper arm and spun her around to face him, slipping his other palm around her waist. “I’m sorry, Marissa. God knows the last thing I want is to drive you away.” He drew a ragged breath, holding firm to her arm. “May I still walk you home?” The words were rough, his breath warm and moist just inches from her lips. The air between them grew thick with a sort of electric tension only lovers understand.
In that moment Marissa knew an entirely new meaning to the term ‘weak at the knees.’ His words washed over her in a caress more arousing than any physical touch. Weak at the knees? Weak in the head. Every bone in her body threatened to melt like butter, and if not for the steady grasp of his hands she surely would have spilled into a puddle at his feet. “I should think it is the least you could do, Dr. Langston,” she said coolly, pulling away from him.
Suddenly she was standing on her own two feet again and the not so welcome clarity of reality crashed back down on her. With a gentle shake of her head Marissa turned to begin the long trek back to town, allowing him to take her hand. “I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression,” she said. “I just need some time to sort a few things out for myself. Another place, another time—” Another time indeed!
Craig narrowed his gaze at her, faint glints of silver moonbeams slid through tree-branches, g
iving his eyes an ethereal shine. “Now don’t go giving me ideas, Marissa, if another time and place is all you need I have no doubt I can arrange for it.” He studied her for a long moment as if trying to glean some insight to her thoughts, she quickly averted her gaze. She could never explain the obstacles between them.
* * *
Craig led her back along the trail they’d earlier ascended. Guarded. Her expression was guarded. There was something else going on. He knew it in his gut, but every time he tried to get close enough to unwrap her secrets she pulled away. This evening she’d gone from pliant and willing to elusive and withdrawn in a matter of seconds. There must be a reason.
Hell, she’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted her a few minutes ago. Craig was dead sure of that.
He would never be certain how long they walked in uncomfortable silence but at last he broached the subject lying so heavily on his mind. “Is there someone else?”
The pained expression on her face spoke volumes and Craig deflated as though physically struck. There is another man.
“No,” she said quietly.
A disturbing degree of relief rushed through him. He wanted her, no doubt about that, but the reaction he’d felt to the thought of anyone else claiming her, looking at her… kissing her… It appalled him how much it had hurt to remember her so wanton in his arms, but it was far, far worse to consider her belonging to another man.
“There isn’t anyone else, at least not anymore,” Marissa explained, drawing him from the troubled direction of his thoughts.
“Were you married?”
Her ebony gaze flicked to his, secrets brimming at the surface, her internal war with what to divulge evident. “I was engaged.”
Understanding hit instantly and Craig relaxed, giving her hand a compassionate squeeze. “Was it the war?”
* * *
Edge of Time (Langston Brothers Series) Page 9
