The Longing

by Wendy Lindstrom

  “Boyd and I were pirates that day,” Kyle said, a smile in his voice. “We captured enemy ships, stole their women, and robbed them of priceless jewels.” He laughed softly then grew quiet. “It seems like a thousand years ago now.”

  Amelia envisioned Kyle as a carefree boy with a vivid imagination and she liked the mental picture of a young, adventurous Kyle. “Did you play here often?”

  “No. I haven’t been back since.”

  Amelia tipped her head back to see his face. “Why not?”

  “I guess I got busy and forgot it was here.”

  Sunlight danced over the writhing water, sparking like brilliant fireflies. “I could never forget something this magnificent,” Amelia said reverently. “It feels so safe here.”

  “It is, Amy.” Kyle’s arms tightened around her waist and they stood quietly, watching the sparkling water rush past, listening to it pour into the churning pool below.

  Amelia turned to face Kyle, knowing they’d earned this moment of closeness, of wonder and joy. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He kissed her. His tongue stroked hers in slow, deep sweeps. She swayed in his arms and he lightened the kiss, until finally he simply eased away and looked into her eyes. “It’s dryer over there.” He nodded toward the far side of the falls where the ledge was deeper.

  Amelia followed him then glanced at a large cloth sack leaning against the wall. “What’s in the bag?”

  He tensed, his expression uneasy as his gaze locked with hers. “It’s our wedding bed, if you want it to be.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Amelia’s eyes widened. “Here?”

  “Only if you want to.” He glanced from the bag to Amelia. “This morning it seemed like a great idea. Maybe it’s not?”

  Amelia looked at the bag, then at the falls, then finally at Kyle who stood before her waiting for her answer. She knew he wanted this day to be special for her, and somehow it made sense that they should share their first intimate experience in this magical, private world. “All right,” she said quietly. “What do you want me to do?”

  Kyle released his breath. “Whatever you feel like doing. You lead. I’ll follow.”

  She nodded because she didn’t know what else to do. How could she lead when she was filled with nerves and memories? How was a woman supposed to make love to her husband if he just stood in front of her waiting for her direction? “I think I want you to lead.”

  He reached for the bag at his feet. “Let’s open this first.” He knelt beside it and pulled out a thick roll of bedding that he laid on the warm slate. June sunlight slipped through the crevices in the rocks above Kyle’s head, splashing across his shoulders and the blankets as he opened them to make their bed. He pressed his hand into the springy thickness and turned to Amelia. “I hope it’s soft enough for you.”

  For her. He’d done this for her. The lanterns, the falls, the bed he would love her on, everything was for her. Amelia moved forward then knelt beside her husband, wanting to love him. She kissed his cheek, then turned the top cover back to open the bed. “I’m ready to become your wife.”

  His eyes grew dark and his hands shook as he reached for the buttons at her neck. “Would you rather do this?” he asked when his fingers kept slipping and bumping her chin.

  “It might be faster.”

  She reached up to help him, but he trapped her hands in his. “I don’t need fast.” He brushed his thumbs across her fingers. “Your pace, Amy, not mine.”

  Touched by his consideration, Amelia nodded, then released the buttons down the front of her dress. Kyle would want her to remove it, but she knew he wouldn’t ask it of her today. Amelia slipped the soft fabric over her shoulders and let it fall to her waist.

  “Will you be cold?” he asked with concern and she shook her head. She couldn’t feel anything but heat pushing through her veins. She’d never undressed for Richard.

  “Your turn,” she said, then watched Kyle shrug off his tan shirt and toss it onto the cloth bag that had contained their bedding.

  “The undershirt, too?” he asked and Amelia nodded.

  She admired the flex of his broad shoulders as he pulled his arms from the sleeves then stretched to lay it aside. A swath of dark hair covered his chest and contrasted with the intriguing shadows of rib and muscle tapering across his flat stomach.

  “I can put it back on,” he said, a question in his voice.

  “No.” She met his eyes, embarrassed for staring at him. “I mean, it’s not necessary. Is it?”

  He eyed her suspiciously for a moment then said, “I prefer it off.”

  Amelia nodded and waited, then realized he was waiting for her. “Oh! Sorry.” She reached up to untie the ribbons on her chemise, glad that she’d forgone a corset and spared Kyle’s trembling fingers the task.

  “Amy?”

  She stopped plucking her ribbons and looked up.

  “It doesn’t need to be this awkward.”

  She let her hands fall to her lap. “I thought I was the only one who felt this way.”

  “We’re both nervous.”

  Apprehensive and excited seemed the more appropriate words, but when Amelia thought of the final act of lovemaking, it was nerves that tightened her stomach. It had hurt the first time with Richard. And she’d felt violated and dirty the last time they’d been together. It wouldn’t be that way with Kyle. She knew that. What she didn’t know was if she could keep her mind anchored in the present instead of the past when Kyle consummated their union. “I think we should just do it,” she blurted, then nearly swooned from the heat of embarrassment that hit her face.

  Kyle grinned and arched a dark brow. “All right.”

  Amelia buried her face in her hands. “I meant, we should quit being so serious about everything.”

  “Good idea,” he said.

  The sound of metal clinking made her lift her head. When she saw what he had in his hands, she gasped in disbelief. “What are you doing with handcuffs?”

  “Easing your fear, I hope.”

  “What?”

  He closed the cuffs around his wrists. “I want you to feel safe, to be relaxed with me.” He showed her a small key dangling from a blue ribbon, then slipped it around her neck.

  Amelia could only stare into Kyle’s gorgeous eyes. “Tell me you didn’t ask Duke for those cuffs.” Kyle’s expression grew sheepish and Amelia groaned. “He knows about this?”

  “Not this exactly.”

  “Oh, Kyle, how am I ever going to face him again?”

  “I was hoping you’d return the cuffs for me.”

  “What?” Kyle burst out laughing and Amelia lunged at him. He howled with laughter as he fell back onto the blankets and Amelia couldn’t stop herself from kissing him. She loved him like this, playful, charming, irresistible. She kissed the laugh lines by his eyes and bit his arrogant nose, then smothered his laughter by covering his mouth with her own. She felt his bound hands trapped between them and knew Kyle was making a joke of the cuffs to distract her from the real reason he’d chained himself. He honestly believed she was afraid of him. Her proud, arrogant, controlling husband was making his final surrender. He was giving her his power to help her quell her fears.

  Shame filled her for misleading him, and her eyes misted as she sat back. She gazed down at Kyle as she finished undressing for him.

  His eyes devoured her as she knelt beside him, clad only in the blue ribbon around her neck, but he didn’t move. Her lead, he’d said and he was keeping his promise. Amelia lifted his bound hands and brought them to her breasts, loving the feel of his warm palms and the way his nostrils flared when he stroked her there. Her stomach lifted like a hot-air balloon, filling her chest with joy.

  Seeing the need in Kyle’s eyes, Amelia moved his hands to the fastenings on his trousers. Obediently, he opened them, but was unable to pull them off with his wrists chained. Locking gazes with her dark-eyed husband lying on his back, willing to do anything for her, brought tears to her
eyes.

  “I can’t, Kyle. Not like this.” She pulled the ribbon necklace over her head and reached to release the metal clasps at his wrists.

  He caught her hands before she could unlock them. “I want you to be sure.”

  Amelia turned the key. She slipped them off his wrists, then tossed the key and Kyle’s bonds onto her pile of discarded clothing.

  She lay down beside him and they turned to face each other. He cupped her chin and drew her mouth to his, then kissed her until she slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. He skimmed her side and her back with his palm, then lower, over her bare hip and thigh. Gooseflesh rippled across her skin from the coolness of the air and the heat of his hand.

  “You’re chilled,” he said, then sat up and pulled off his shoes and stockings. He lay back on the blankets, braced his shoulders and feet on the bedding, and lifted his hips to slide off his pants and undershorts. Amelia looked away as he slipped his feet out of his trouser legs, but she knew her husband had every right to be proud and arrogant. “Climb in,” he said, drawing the blanket over them.

  Amelia lay wrapped in his arms, drawing warmth from his hard body, praying this act would bring them closer and bond them for life.

  Kyle brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them, then placed her hand on the crisp hairs of his chest. “Lead the way,” he whispered then kissed her until her mind reeled and her heart pounded. She moved her hand over his ribs, and Kyle’s palm caressed her side. She felt his sleek, hard hip, and he felt hers. As she grew bolder in her exploration, he returned each of her caresses with his exquisite, tender touch until Amelia felt breathless and hot and urgent. Finally, she drew her fingers over his hardness, and he sought her softness until she arched and shuddered into his palm, gripped by waves of pleasure that made her gasp and bury her face in his chest.

  The airy roar of the falls mixed with Kyle’s hot breath on her neck as he rolled on top of her and braced himself between her thighs. “Now?” he asked, his voice urgent.

  Amelia nodded and welcomed her husband, her future.

  Pleasurable pressure filled her as Kyle slowly began to join them as husband and wife. She cupped his firm hips and felt his muscles flex beneath her palms as he tried to hold back. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t feel dirty. She didn’t feel violated. She felt reborn!

  He moved, gently at first, his face a mask of concentration that changed to confused surprise as he pushed and she welcomed him with ease.

  His arms trembled as he held himself still, the question growing in his eyes. Amelia lowered her lashes and pulled him closer, deeper, until her own passion mounted beneath his rolling hips and she soared toward the wondrous sensation she’d experienced earlier.

  Kyle groaned and she glanced into his face. He looked different with his jaw slack and his eyes glazed with passion and Amelia knew he was as open and vulnerable as she was in that moment. Everything tightened inside her and she cried out. Kyle lunged, the sound of his voice filling her ears as he followed her into that blissful moment of release.

  Their breathing mingled with the sound of the falls and the splash of water on the rocks below. Soft light slipped through the rock ceiling and brought out the auburn strands in his brown hair as their hearts slowed to normal. Amelia pushed her fingers into the thick strands at his temples, holding his head between her palms, and looking into his sated eyes. “You have no idea what this meant to me,” she whispered.

  His gaze locked with hers, his unspoken question brimming in his eyes. She knew he was waiting for her to tell him, to offer an explanation, but thick, choking shame filled her throat and cut off her words. Her hands slipped from his hair and fell to her sides as she lay beneath him feeling too unworthy to even touch him.

  Kyle’s lashes lowered, but she glimpsed the pain in his eyes as he withdrew and lay on the bed he’d made for her. He turned onto his back and covered his eyes with his arm, then didn’t move a muscle or make a sound for so long, Amelia’s fear nearly swallowed her.

  “I loved him,” she said quietly, not wanting him to think the worst of her character. She knew now that what she’d felt for Richard had only been infatuation, but at seventeen, she’d believed it was love.

  The roar and splatter of the falls suddenly seemed intimidating as she lay there waiting for Kyle to ask questions, to ask why, to hear her apology for keeping the truth from him.

  He laughed instead—the mirthless, bitter laugh of someone who suddenly realizes he’s a fool, the unsuspecting victim of a cruel joke he’s played on himself.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Kyle pressed his forehead to the front door, loath to go inside and face Amelia. He’d spent two grueling evenings trying to act as if nothing had changed, but in his heart, everything had changed.

  He had thought making love would be the beginning of their marriage, but it felt like the end. The shame in Amelia’s eyes had confirmed Kyle’s suspicion, but it wasn’t Amelia’s lack of virginity that had been tearing him up inside. Sure, he’d been surprised, disappointed even, but he hadn’t thought less of her because of it. It was that she’d lied about being afraid, that in her need to conceal the truth, she’d let him make a fool of himself.

  He’d been so relieved when he’d finally turned Amelia’s nervousness to laughter. It hadn’t mattered in that moment what it had cost him in pride to ask Duke for his handcuffs. Making Amelia laugh had been worth it. For her, Kyle had held back and experienced the beauty of making love slowly, of watching a woman explore his body as if she’d never touched a man. When she’d cried out with pleasure, his body rejoiced, but his mind repelled the truth as he followed her over the edge in a state of shock and disbelief.

  Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he had wanted to introduce his wife to the act of lovemaking. He had wanted to teach her about intimacy and passion. Kyle had owned Evelyn’s friendship, but she’d given her passion to his brother. Catherine had only allowed his friendship. Kyle wasn’t willing to settle this time. He wanted it all. Companionship. Passion. Trust. A woman who could commit herself to their marriage body and soul without betraying him by keeping secrets.

  Still, Kyle had been keeping his own secrets, and maybe the real crux of his problem was his own guilty conscience. It was eating a hole in his gut and he couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “Kyle?”

  He spun toward Amelia, who stood behind him with an empty laundry crate under her arm and a worried expression on her face. “Are you all right?”

  He shook his head, knowing he was going to confess everything, that he was going to lay himself bare and ask her to do the same. Then, God willing, they might stand a chance of reconciling, of living together with respect and friendship, and maybe something more someday. “We need to talk,” he said, dreading the painful discussion ahead of them.

  Her face paled, but he pushed open the door and waited for her to step inside. The parlor was dim after the bright sunshine, and Kyle caught the toe of his boot on the rocker leg as he passed it. He stumbled and cursed, but kept himself from sprawling across the pretty little oval rug Amelia had placed in front of the rocking chair.

  “I’m going to move that back into the corner,” she said, setting her crate on the floor between the sofa and chair.

  “It’s fine there. I just wasn’t paying attention.” Indecision filled her expression and Kyle sighed. “Forget the chair, Amelia. I have something to tell you that’s going to be difficult for both of us, and I don’t want to be distracted by a damned chair. Maybe you should sit down, though, while we talk.”

  Instead of sitting, she stepped behind the parlor chair and rested her hands on the back as if it would shield her from what he was about to say. “Are you trying to tell me that you want me to leave?” she asked, her voice unsteady. “I can stay with Mama if you don’t want me here.”

  Regret consumed him, made him ache because his cool silence had allowed her to think he didn’t want her. He’d just needed time to ease the shoc
k and sort through feelings.

  He met her eyes. “I don’t want any more secrets between us, Amelia. They’ll only cause problems later on.”

  Her face flushed and she lowered her eyes. “I was only seventeen, Kyle. I believed he was going to marry me, but I learned too late that he didn’t want a small-town girl.” She looked at him, her eyes filled with regret. “I’m truly sorry. At our wedding reception you said it mattered whether your bride was pure. I should have told you right then and there, but I was afraid. I needed to marry you. Now I need you...in other ways.”

  He needed her, too. That’s what scared him so much. Somehow Amelia had cracked open a door he’d sworn to keep closed. Not only had she rearranged his home and his daily routine, she had invaded his life and shaken him wide awake. As much as Kyle wanted to keep Amelia at arm’s length, he felt an intense need to pull her close, to hold her and protect her and make her laugh again. But he wouldn’t make her laugh today. He would break her heart and it was going to kill him to do it.

  Kyle rubbed his eyes, having no idea how to explain his own stupidity and express his regret, so he simply dove in. “Your father and I had words the night he died,” he said, deciding to get right to the heart of his confession. “If I had known your father had been having chest pains, I never would have gone to see him, Amelia. But I swear I didn’t know. The night your father collapsed, I’d stopped by his mill to ask when he was going to pay me for the timber I’d sold him. He’d been putting me off for three months, and that night he claimed he still couldn’t pay me”

  “He probably couldn’t, Kyle. We both know that everything Papa had was mortgaged to the bank.”

  “I wasn’t aware of his financial situation that night any more than I was aware he was ill. I’d heard he just made a large deposit at the bank. I needed the money he owed me so I could pay for the new sawmill I’d ordered.”

  “Who said he’d made a deposit?” she asked.

  “Richard.”

  “What? How dare he share Papa’s personal information! There wasn’t any money in Papa’s accounts. I verified it myself.”