Page 35 of The Pirate and the Pagan
She put on lacy stockings and shift, blushing as she did so, for she knew before the night was over his eyes would see everything beneath the gown. Its waist was so nipped in, she found it difficult to breathe, or was it the thought of what was yet to come which made her so breathless?
By early evening none of the heat had left the day, so she didn’t bother with a cloak. She made sure the house was safely locked up, and since she hadn’t returned Ebony to the Helford stables the day before, she rode him back now, very slowly, so that she wouldn’t be disheveled when she arrived.
At the stables there were a half-dozen grooms and stableboys ready to help her dismount and care for Ebony. She smiled her thanks and walked slowly up to the hall. Mr. Burke met her at the front door and led her to the south wing, through tall French doors, out onto a terrace where a profusion of bougainvillea and other tropical blooms had turned it into a sheltered paradise.
Ruark had been sitting on the edge of a fountain until he saw her, then he arose and came forward eagerly. “Sweetheart, I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”
“I don’t believe you’ve ever been afraid in your life,” she said prettily, laughing up into his eyes.
He took both her hands, holding her at arm’s length to drink in her beauty, then he enfolded her in his arms for a moment of delicious possession. ’Ods blood, she would wear white tonight. It was like a symbol of her purity. He pushed away the thought with determination, for his mind was made up. He would wait no longer.
He stooped to pick an exotic, flame-colored hibiscus and offered it to her. She gazed up at him with unfathomable eyes. She knew tonight would be different. Before, he had always given her cream-colored roses. She reached out for the flaming hibiscus and Ruark knew that tonight she would come to him fully.
He was instantly conscious of the blood flowing hot and thick in his veins and of the heavy, unbearable ache which suddenly flooded his loins. Keeping hold of her hand, he drew her to the fountain. Its centerpiece was a small dolphin carved from jade with the water spouting high from its mouth, then falling into a three-tiered waterfall. The pool was lined with jade green tile where the orange and black carp made a startling contrast.
“It’s like paradise,” she murmured, her eyes sweeping the flowering trees which enclosed the terrace. Yellow laburnum dangled its blossoms next to the mauve blooms of a glorious magnolia. Small flowering almond were backed by large masses of fuchsia-colored rhododendrons.
“I had it copied from an Ottoman palace in Algiers on the Mediterranean.”
Summer’s eyes widened. “There are so many things I don’t know about you.”
“And I you,” he said huskily, “but we can remedy that.” He brought her hand up and pressed a kiss to the pulse in her wrist and smiled as it fluttered erratically. Holding her eyes with his, he said, “Some people can know each other in a few hours, but with others it takes a lifetime. Which do you suppose it will be with us?”
She shook her head and said softly, “I hope our time together is not too fleeting … like these beautiful blooms … they’ll all be gone in a week … it seems such a waste.”
“Beauty enjoyed at its peak is never a waste,” he said suggestively. “That is why I thought we should dine out here this evening.”
A footman was putting the finishing touches to a small table he had set up just outside the tall French doors and Ruark, still hand-clasped, led her over to it. Summer didn’t think she’d be able to eat a thing. A million butterflies’ wings were fluttering inside her stomach and the hot evening was not conducive to a large meal.
Ruark held her chair and obediently she sat and unfolded her napkin. He took his place across from her so that he could make love to her with his eyes. He poured her a goblet of pale Chablis and their fingers touched intimately as he handed it to her.
Her eyebrows rose slightly, questioning him on its potency. He was pleased they could communicate without words. He shook his head to assure her it was harmless enough and she sipped it delicately, letting the cool liquid stay on her tongue each time before she swallowed it.
The meal had been chosen with a sure hand to appeal to both the eye and the palate on such a hot night. The footman served smoked salmon and cucumber aspic as a first course, and Summer sighed with delight at the marked contrast it made from the usual rough fare she normally ate. Then came cold capon with cherry sauce and chilled asparagus spears.
She blushed as she tasted the capon, thinking irreverently that this wasn’t the first time she’d dined on one of his fine cockerels. He noticed her cheeks of course, for his eyes never seemed to leave her face.
His hand closed over hers and he urged, “Tell me what prompts your lovely blush.”
She let her lashes sweep to her cheeks. “It’s secret, Lord Helford.”
“I insist upon Ruark. Surely you are not too shy to use my Christian name?”
She lifted her lashes and gave him a dazzling smile. “I am not shy, Ruark; everything I say and do is imprudent, I fear.” The sexual tension stretched taut between them. The very air seemed to hold its breath.
At her words his flesh reacted instantly, swelling, filling, aching for her. Her eyes were on his mouth and immediately she imagined it kissing her own, then going lower to taste the hard little fruits of her nipples as he had that morning on the sand.
Ruark’s eyes were dark and intense with passion. Always when he thought of her, he wished himself deep within her. His eyes lingered on her lips and he longed to watch them open and cry out with passion as he sheathed himself to the hilt inside her.
The footman hovered with dessert, but they were oblivious to anything but each other. It was as if they were alone in the universe. He arose and came around the table to lift her against his heart. “My darling, your beauty has no equal.” He set her feet down upon the terrace flagstones, but hugged her to his side with one possessive arm. They wandered down the garden toward a huge outdoor chess set with life-size carved knights and rooks.
“Were these also at the palace in Algiers?” she asked in wonder.
“Actually we played with real people, slaves whose only purpose was to stand patiently while we made our moves.”
“How decadent,” she condemned.
“Yes, everything is decadent in Algeria, but they certainly know how to go about some things better than we do.”
