He began pulling the pins from her hair, dropping them to the floor. He stroked the black, silky mass of her hair. “Why should you be frightened?” he said softly, his lips playing along her neck. ?
??You’re my wife, the only one I want or will ever have. Think about us and our children.”
Nicole felt her knees begin to weaken as Clay’s tongue touched her earlobe. “Children,” she said under her breath. “I’d like children.”
He pulled away from her and smiled. “Creating children isn’t easy. It takes a lot of…ah, hard work.”
Nicole laughed, her eyes dancing in delight. “Maybe we should practice,” she said solemnly. “All work becomes easier with…experience.”
“Come here, imp,” he said, and picked her up into his arms. He carefully laid her down on the blankets. Somehow, the musty smell of them fit the atmosphere. It was a place of ghosts, ghosts Nicole felt smiling on them.
Clay unfastened the buttons of her wet dress, and as he revealed a piece of skin he kissed it. He pulled the dress out from under her, then off as if she were a child. Nicole removed her chemise herself. She was hungry to bare her skin to his touch. Clay moved her across his knee, his arm behind her back as he touched and teased her body. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, the firelight playing on her skin.
“You’re not disappointed that I’m not blonde?”
“Hush!” he commanded in a mock stern voice. “I wouldn’t change one color of you.”
She turned to look up at him, then began to unbutton his shirt. His chest was smooth and hard with muscle, lightly covered with hair. His stomach was strong and flat. Nicole felt her own muscles tighten at the sight of his beautiful body. His lean hardness was such a contrast to her own softness. She enjoyed his body. She enjoyed watching him walk, the way his muscles played beneath his skin as he worked to control an unruly horse. She liked to watch him throw hundred-pound bags of grain onto a wagon. She shivered as she pressed her mouth to the warm brown skin that covered the ridges of his stomach.
Clay was watching her, saw the range of emotions cross her expressive eyes. When at last they turned to the smoky brown of sheer lust, he felt chills run up his spine. The woman fired him in a way no other ever had. No longer did he care for the words of love, but he wanted her. He nearly tore his clothes from his body, pulling off the long, tight boots faster than he ever had before.
No longer were his kisses sweet and gentle, but as he took her ear in his mouth he threatened to tear it from her head. His lips, tongue, and teeth ran down her neck, across her shoulder, then back again to her breast.
Nicole arched under his touch. His tongue on her breast sent little sparks of fire through her veins. His mouth traveled down her stomach, making it contract under the sweet torment of his kisses. She buried her hands in the thick richness of his hair, dragging his mouth back to her own.
“Clay,” she whispered before his mouth on hers stopped her words.
He moved his body on top of hers, and she smiled, her eyes closed, as she felt the weight of him. He was hers, thoroughly and completely hers.
When he entered her, it was, as always, a surprise to her, a shock of delight as she reexperienced his maleness He filled her completely until she thought she would die from ecstasy.
They moved together, slowly at first, until Nicole felt she could bear the slowness no longer. Her hands caressed the round, hard smoothness of his back and buttocks, feeling the muscles work, feeling the power that lay just under his hot skin.
When they came together, Nicole could feel the contractions in her body from her waist to her toes. When Clay rolled off her and gathered her close to him, her legs throbbed. She smiled and snuggled against him, kissing his shoulder, tasting the salt of his sweat.
They fell asleep together.
Chapter 13
WHEN NICOLE FIRST AWOKE, SHE THOUGHT SHE WAS back in the cave with Clay. But the sun across the bed, shining through Ellen’s lacy curtains, soon reminded her where she was. The place beside her was empty, but the pillow still bore an indentation from Clay’s head.
She stretched luxuriously, the sheet falling away from her nude body. After they’d made love in the cave last night, they’d slept for hours. When they awoke, the moon had risen, the fire was out, and they were both cold. They had quickly bundled into their damp clothes and run for the sloop. Clay sailed it slowly down the river to the Backes’s house.
Once inside the house, Clay had raided the kitchen and returned to Nicole with a large basket of fruit, cheese, bread, and wine. He laughed as Nicole became amorous after only half a glass of wine. They made love again amid the food, kissing and eating, teasing and laughing, until they fell asleep again in each other’s arms.
Nicole moved and pulled a piece of apple out from under her right hip. She smiled at it before setting it on the bedside table. She knew Ellen’s sheets would be stained for life after their antics of last night. But how did one apologize for that? Could she say she’d poured wine into the small of Clay’s back and then sipped it out, unfortunately spilling some when he grew impatient and turned over before she could drink it all? No, that wasn’t something you could tell your hostess.
She threw back the covers, then rubbed her bare arms. There was the first nip of fall in the air. In the wardrobe hung a velvet dress of just the color of the wine she and Clay had shared last night. Quickly, she put it on, buttoning the tiny pearl buttons to her neck. It was long-sleeved, high-necked, fitting tightly across her breasts and then falling away in a gathered skirt to the floor. It was a simple, elegant gown, and it was warm, just what she would need for today’s coolness.
She went to the mirror to arrange her hair. She wanted to look especially nice today. Clay had said that at the noon dinner he’d announce their plans for a second marriage and invite the people to his house for a Christmas wedding. Nicole had been able to persuade him to wait and prepare a party for the event. Ellen’s guests would begin leaving this afternoon, and he wanted to make the announcement before they left.
Nicole got lost only once before she found the garden door that led to the lawn where the tables had been newly set up. Several people milled about the tables, talking slowly and eating quietly. Everyone seemed to be tired and ready for the long party to end. Nicole looked forward to returning to Arundel Hall—as its mistress.
She saw Bianca sitting alone at a little table under an elm tree. She felt a twinge of conscience at the sight. In a way, it didn’t seem fair that the Englishwoman had come such a long way, expecting to be married, only to discover her fiancé was already married. Hesitantly, Nicole took a step forward. Then Bianca looked up, over a plate of food, at her. Bianca’s eyes were filled with the fires of hatred. Her look was lethal if not fatal.
Nicole’s hand flew to her throat, and she backed away. Suddenly, she felt like a hypocrite. Of course, she could afford to offer Bianca sympathy, since she—Nicole—had won. Winners can always afford to be gracious. She turned toward the tables and picked up a plate, but her appetite was gone.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Armstrong,” said a man who towered over her.