Hope Everlastin' Book 4 (8 page)

Expressionless, Lachlan ran
a hand over the top of his sodden hair. "Are you saying you want me
back in ma bed, lass, or in any bed wi' you?"

A strangled chuff of
laughter escaped her before she gripped the remains of the front of
his shirt. Lifting on toes immersed in mud, she calmly stated, "If
you don't kiss me now, I'm going to bury you where you
stand."

"You've graduated from
threatening ma monhood to the whole o' me?"

"Lachlan...."

He released a throaty laugh
and exuberantly threw his arms around her, molding her shivering
form against him. His possessive embrace elicited a sigh from her
and she laid one side of her face against his chest. The cold
wetness of him was barely felt as she listened to his heart. The
beat was strong, as inspirational as a symphony in a park on a warm
summer's day.

When they'd made love in
the past he didn't have a heartbeat, only a life pulse that she now
knew had been a gift from Deliah.

"I canna kiss you wi' yer
head down," he whispered.

Beth instantly looked up,
her lips parted in invitation. Her fingers kneaded the small of his
back as his head lowered with teasing slowness. But when his mouth
covered hers, she found the long hours of the past two weeks worth
the wait.

Sweetened by the rain, his
mouth moved slowly over hers, second by second becoming more
demanding until she was so completely lost in love that she had no
concept of the weather or their location. She ached with familiar
desire. It heated her blood and made her pulse quicken. In life or
death, he owned a part of her no other man could claim.

Ending the kiss abruptly,
Lachlan tilted back his head and, breathing heavily, allowed the
rain to splat against his face.

Beth watched him for a
moment and placed her right hand against his cheek. He looked down
at her, wonderment enhancing his handsome visage. His mouth quirked
with a grin as he slowly shook his head.

"We're soaked, ma Beth. I
can think o' a less no canny place to make love to you."

"Can you?"

"Aye, darlin’." He winced
comically. "I'm abou' to break through ma breeks for want o'
you."

"Sounds serious," she said
with a wicked little grin. She shuddered and released a mewl of
appreciation when his arms again enveloped her. Although he was as
wet and as cold as she was, being in his arms afforded her
psychological warmth. He gave her a hearty squeeze, then scooped
her up in his arms and gave her neck a teasing nibble as he settled
her against him.

With a laugh, she linked
her arms about his neck. "You can't carry me to the house. Not in
this mud."

"Right now, ma love, I
could fly you to our room on wings o' love."

Beth released a long,
dreamy sigh. "I love it when you get poetic."

Grinning, Lachlan started
off toward the house, his boots heavily plopping in the mud, its
thickness slowing his usual gait. To keep her in the mood for what
he hoped would be a long night of making love, he began to sing in
baritone, Tell Me How To Woo Thee, by Graham of
Gartmore.

"If doughty deeds ma lady
please,

Right soon I'll mount ma
steed:

And strong his arm, and
fast his seat,

Tha' bears from me the
meed.

I'll wear thy colors at ma
brow,

Thy picture in ma
heart;

And he tha' bends no' to
thine eye,

Shall rue it to his
smart."

He paused to blink into the
stinging rain and softly blow at the moisture on his lips. Then he
continued:

"Then tell me how to woo
thee, love,

Oh tell me how to woo
thee.

For thy dear sake, no care
I'll tak,

Though never anither trow
me—"

Lachlan grunted as his feet
went out from under him. His butt hit the boggy ground and a
splattering of mud and water sprayed up around them. He managed to
retain his hold on Beth, but nearly released her when she began to
laugh. Its rich sound filled the night, drowning out the drumming
rudiments of raindrops striking solid objects.

Within seconds, her
infectious laughter caught him up in its throes. He cradled her
against him, rocking back and forth, his own deep laughter
harmonizing with hers. Next he knew they were rolling on the
cushiony ground, kissing, clinging to one another as one entity.
The past and future held no meaning to them. Only the moment
existed, and it was as sweet as the rain diluting most of the
sodden earth covering them.

Finally, exhausted and too
cold to frolic any longer, Lachlan scrambled to his feet, nearly
falling twice, and helped Beth to hers. As best they could, they
ran across the rest of the field, through the woods, around the
house, and through both sets of double doors. When the last was
closed behind them, Beth threw her arms up and laughingly glanced
over Lachlan then herself. She shivered violently and her teeth
chattered, but she couldn't remember a time when she'd been
happier.

Lachlan looked like a
drowned, long-haired hamster, his dark eyes peering at her between
strands of hair matted to his face by rain and shifting globs of
mud. She knew she didn't look any better but didn't care. To prove
this, she flung herself into his arms and kissed him. He tasted of
rain and moist earth, and his lips were as cold as her own. No
matter. Life was better than it had ever been, and not a word of
complaint would pass her lips, not even if she shivered through the
floor like a drill through rock.

"Och!" cried a voice,
startling them apart. Deliah rushed toward them with two blankets.
Passing each of them one, she placed her hands on her hips, her
round eyes sparkling with joy. "I canna say I be sorry to see ye in
each ither's arms, but take heart, ma friends, no' to catch yer
daith from the cold."

Breathing heavily, Beth
haphazardly rubbed one end of her blanket over her face and hair.
"I n-need a hot b-bath."

Smiling, Deliah dealt
Lachlan a knowing look, one which prompted him to arch an eyebrow.
"Weel, tis seems yer lucky night," she beamed. "Ye will find a hot
tub awaitin’ ye in yer room."

Eyes wide, Beth look at
Lachlan then swung her gaze to Deliah. "Have the twins—"

"They be sleepin’ as
soundly as an oak."

With a low laugh of glee,
Beth planted a wet kiss on Deliah's cheek, took Lachlan by the
hand, and hastily led him to the third floor. She stopped to verify
that the babies were asleep. They didn't so-much-as stir while she
stood at the side of the crib, staring at them with the same love
and pride she always felt when near them.

Her perfect
children.

Their world was so
uncomplicated, and she silently promised them she would do her best
to always keep it that way.

She heaved a breath of
contentment and turned to rejoin Lachlan in the hall, but found him
standing to her left. He stared at the infants in abject wonder,
and a shiver of delight passed through her. Their gazes met. His
Adam's apple jerked as he gulped. He swallowed again as he leaned a
little closer to have a better look at them. The gaslight fixture
on the wall lent a soft glow to the room, enough to make the
babies' features clearly visible. When he straightened back,
blinking hard and worrying his lower lip, Beth knew he was fighting
back a compulsion to touch them. Although she had counted the long
days for that to happen, now wasn't the right time. They were cold
and wet and—

Again she took his hand and
led him out of the nursery. She spared a look at the wet, muddy
mess they'd tracked on the wood floor, and partially closed the
door. Lachlan took the lead into the master bedroom, past the fully
stoked fireplace and into the bathroom. Once she was inside,
standing near the steaming tub of water, he closed the door and
turned in time to see her deposit her blanket on the
floor.

His chest went tight and he
shook with expectation. Steam rose and curled between them. The
gaslight was turned down low enough to lend the bathroom a
romantic, seductive atmosphere. His erection strained against the
tightness of his breeches. He desperately wanted to strip out of
his clothes, but her wide eyes were regarding him a bit shyly. She
repeatedly lapped at the moisture on her lips, her tongue making
slow sweeps along the ridges.

His swollen penis spasmed
as he imagined himself entering the warmth of her, burying himself
into the blissful tightness of her. He gazed down her length,
noting every enticing curve her clinging gown displayed, lingering
on the dark patch visible between her legs. When he again met her
eyes, he read uncertainty in them. Her hands went to her abdomen.
She looked down at them and shifted from one foot to the
other.

"I-ah," she began
unsteadily, her voice lower and huskier than usual, "have changed
somewhat." She peered up at him and managed a weak smile. "Giving
birth...."

Lachlan's gaze briefly
lowered to the placement of her hands. He dropped his blanket off
to the side, then stepped up to her and tenderly framed her face
with his hands. "You will always be ma sun, ma moon, ma sky, and ma
earth, Beth. You are mair beautiful and desirable now than when we
first met." He kissed her lightly, pressed his brow to hers, and
sighed deeply. "Two babies or twelve, you will always be ma womon,
and I'll never love nor lust for no ither."

He sighed again, drew back
his head, and looked deeply into her eyes. "I've been a fool, but a
fool who loves you mair'n any mon has ever loved. I want you so, ma
blood and ma brain is afire, but I dinna want to rush you into
makin’g love if ye're no' ready."

"I was born ready for you,"
she said breathlessly.

"I wasna thinkin’ afore.
You had the bairns mere weeks ago. Beth, yer body needs to
heal."

"It already has. Deliah
made me a douche—"

"A wha'?"

"It's something you
insert—"

"Och!" He felt the skin of
his face grow hot. "I dinna think I want to hear this."

Beth gave an exasperated
roll of her eyes. "Okay, no details. But I am healed. Inside and
out. There's no need for you to worry."

He blinked in surprise. "So
why are we standin’ in our wet clothes?"

A mischievous grin spread
across her mouth and brightened her blue eyes. Lachlan stepped
back, leaning against the sink while he struggled to pull off one
of his boots. He kept his gaze on Beth as she shimmied out of her
nightgown, pulling it over her head. A breath caught in his throat.
She stood naked in front of him, her clasped hands now resting in
front of her pubes, her gaze watching him closely for a reaction.
He could only gulp and manage a one-sided grin, all the while
jerking on the boot until it finally slipped off his foot. The
second boot took less time—whether this was due to his heightened
eagerness, he didn't know or care. He peeled out of his socks and
tossed them at the window, where they landed and draped on the
sill.

Standing, he whipped off
his shirt over his head, heaved his chest as he drew in a deep
breath then flung the tattered material behind the far side of the
toilet. His fingers went to the buttons on the front of his
breeches. His hands trembled so fiercely, he held them out at his
sides and shook them as if to relieve their stiffness.

"Let me," said Beth.
Stepping up to him, her gaze never wavering from the dark depths of
his eyes, she calmly unfastened the five small buttons. She lightly
nibbled on his lower lip while she eased his breeches and thick
worsted undergarment down his hips and thighs.

Lachlan gripped her wrists
to stop her. His erection freed, it throbbed against her nakedness,
throbbed for another kind of release. Worming her right hand free,
she wrapped her fingers around his length, stroked, gently stroked
then brushed the head across her smooth abdomen. Lachlan shuddered
with the strain it took to maintain control. His muscles bunched,
twitched, and he released a low groan when she again swept the
sensitized underpart across her skin.

"Beth!" he
gasped.

The room was steamy and
growing hotter by the second.

"I want you in my mouth,"
she said in a low, raspy tone.

Lachlan's eyes widened in
disbelief. They had both been virgins when he'd taken her to his
bed last summer. He'd pleasured her in that special way to ease the
first entry, as Millard Barluc had told him more than a century and
a half ago. Barluc had also told him of how a woman could take a
man into her mouth, but it had been Lachlan's understanding that
only prostitutes performed that duty. And as often as Barluc had
teasingly offered to pay for Lachlan to experience that pleasure,
Lachlan could never bring himself to do anything that intimate with
a woman he didn't first love.

"Have I shocked
you?"

"Aye," he replied,
quivering with anticipation.

She studied the wariness in
his eyes for a long moment. "Carlene used to fill me in on all her
exploits. And whenever I reacted as you are now, she would call me
a prude and tell me there wasn't anything wrong in giving a man
pleasure."