Page 87 of Wild Hearts

His fingers sought the private place where only he had gone before, knowing full well the sensations would provoke her to cry his name again and again. He slipped one of the cushions beneath her buttocks so that he would be able to pierce her more deeply. She opened to him as a blossom to the sun, then she closed on him so tightly, it was his turn to cry out in ecstasy. He held hard inside her without moving, each savoring the throbbing pulsations of the other. Then he began to move with long, silken thrusts, until her moans built into a scream deep within her throat. The violence of her bliss erupted as she came up off the pillows, her hands clinging to his heavily muscled back. Then he filled her with his scalding nectar.

Afterward, Paris rose, took the eiderdown from the bed and brought it to cover them. She stretched luxuriously, languidly, and snuggled against him.

" 'Tis paradise away from everybody," he whispered. "I'll show you places you have only dreamed of."

Reality began to nibble at the outer edges of her consciousness, "How long will we be away?"

"Who knows? Who cares?- Forever, I hope," he said, tightening his hold on her.

"Two days? Two weeks?" she persisted.

"At least," he conceded lazily.

Briefly, she thought of Alexandria. She would have to tell him soon. Not yet, though. She wasn't about to ruin their honeymoon. She pushed thoughts of Alexandria away as she focused on the husky voice of Paris. "You'll see France, your mother's country."

"France?" she whispered in disbelief.

"Where did you think we were going?" He smiled.

"Leith," she said quickly.

"Leith?" He threw back his head and roared with laughter. "First we are going to take the wool across to The Hague, in Holland."

"What comes after Holland?"

"Belgium." He kissed her.

"What comes after Belgium?"

"France." He kissed her again.

"What comes after France?".

He hesitated. "Spain, but I didn't plan on going that far."

"Why not?" she questioned.

"Before we're finished, you'll have the voyage stretch into a year." He chuckled. "Besides, Spain is too hot to make love." He rolled her onto her stomach and swept a hand down her smooth back. She quivered at his touch. His hands began to massage her body. "The climate of France is perfect." He straddled her with his knees and bent to whisper in her ear: "I'll find us a lovely secluded bay along the coast where we can bathe and play naked in shallow azure pools."

"Paris!"

He could always shock her. He loved it. He was in a playful mood now, and grinned to himself as he anticipated how shocked she would be when he showed her what he wanted to do next. Gently, he turned her over to face him.

CHAPTER 19

Her days were lazy, sun-filled, happy. Her nights were rapturous. She found a Chinese silk kimono, and in another brass-bound chest, a beautiful one-shouldered gown that Paris told her was a sari from India. When she went up on deck, she wore one of Paris's shirts and some white linen pants he had found for her.

As soon as he had disposed of the hundreds of bales of raw sheep's wool, he had taken her shopping in The Hague. She had been surprised and delighted at all the very latest Paris fashions they had there. Her sun-kissed days had turned her skin golden. When they looked at each other, they looked deeply. Paris gazed meaningfully into her eyes. They could communicate without speaking. It was almost a spiritual mingling. He had given her his heart; now he was giving her his soul. They were becoming one.

At Calais, a teeming port where anything could be procured, he bought cases of French brandy and beautiful wine from Burgundy and Bordeaux; now, if he could just take on some sweet Spanish wine, his holds would be filled.

As promised, he sought out the private cove, and they had played and frolicked the afternoon away. She chose the moment deliberately. They were preparing for bed that night when she said softly, "I know who is the father of Alexandria's child."

He looked at her a long time. "You have known all this voyage and are only getting to it now?" he asked mildly.

"I didn't want to spoil our lovely holiday," she said quickly.

"Then I take it the news is unpleasant?"

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