Midnight Flame (23 page)

“You make it sound so simple.”

“It is,
chérie.
” Denise nodded and giggled. “We shall have a beautiful new gown made for you. Mrs. Pratt is the best dressmaker in Washington, and you shall look like a seductress in one of her creations. And a nightgown of lace, something so sheer that Tony’s eyes will pop out of his head, and his hands will not be still under the covers.”

Laurel blushed anew, but a feeling of happiness washed over her. “Do you think Mrs. Pratt can arrange for a fitting now?”

Denise got up.
“Mais, oui.
Come along, Laurel. Before this day is over, you shall be well dressed and well versed in the art of love.”

~ ~ ~

The large candelabra in the center of the snowy tablecloth on the dining room table highlighted the warmth on Laurel’s face that evening. Tony sat across from her, and in the golden glow, she noticed sparks of desire dancing in his eyes for her. Taking a puff from his cheroot, he smiled at her and appeared more relaxed and at ease than she had ever seen him.

Laurel picked up her wineglass and brought it to her lips, tasting of the sweetness of the red liquid. Her lips were tinted a deep shade of rose, and Tony had the urge to sweep her into his arms and rush upstairs with her. He wanted to make passionate love to her, to leave her breathless and spent in his arms. But again he resisted and wondered how much longer Laurel was going to tempt him.

“How are the arrangements for the ball progressing?” he asked.

“Very nicely.” Laurel toyed with the rim of her glass, unable to tear her eyes away from Tony’s handsome face. “Denise had been a great help.”

In more ways than one, Laurel thought. Denise had told Laurel about the intimacies of her own marriage that had shocked Laurel at first, but she had learned quite a bit that she intended to put into practice on the night of the ball.

Laurel glanced down at the white tablecloth, afraid Tony would read her thoughts and guess how much she wanted him. Yet, a part of her was unsure about his feelings for her. Though she sensed he wanted her, she wondered if he ever gave a thought to the man who had claimed her body in the cabin. Perhaps she was wrong, and he had married her only because he somehow felt responsible for what had happened. Perhaps he didn’t love her at all. What if he still loved Simone Lancier? She couldn’t be certain he hadn’t been sneaking out at night to see the witch.

Tilting her head to the side, she looked at him. “Would you object if I didn’t invite Simone Lancier to the ball?”

“Yes.”

His response startled her. “Then I suppose I shall have to invite the tart!” she declared and abruptly stood up. She felt like crying to think that Tony actually did feel something for Simone. He
did
want her on the guest list. If he felt nothing for Simone, he would not want her at their wedding ball.

Laurel felt tears slipping past her lashes. She would have rushed past Tony to seek the solace of her room, but he was already standing and blocking her exit to the stairs. Instead, she twisted around and ran onto the veranda.

“Laurel!”

Ignoring his voice, she sought the darkness of the night. She felt like the biggest fool to plan on becoming a true wife to him, and all the time he wanted Simone. A desire to flee, to put everything behind her, washed over her, and she would have run in the direction of the fields, had she not felt Tony’s strong hand on her arms.

Laurel felt pinioned to the spot, but she resisted and attempted to ward him off.

“Where are you going?” His voice sounded harsh, and he had to shake her to make her stop pushing at him.

“I’m … leaving … you,” she sobbed, feeling as if her heart were breaking. “I don’t want to stay here any longer. I … want to … go to … San Antonio and be with my family, people who love me.”

“I thought you had gotten over that, Laurel. You’re not going anywhere. You belong here, at Petit Coteau with me.”

She hated the possessive quality she heard in his voice. Tony, she knew, enjoyed feeling that he owned things and people, but she would be damned if he thought he owned her. Anger surged through her, overcoming the pain. He may want Simone, but she didn’t have to put up with their little affair.

“I belong wherever I want to belong!” she stormed. “If I want to go to San Antonio, I will, and you can’t stop me. Just because you married me isn’t reason enough to keep me here like a hothouse flower. You never take me anywhere, not even into town. I think sometimes that you’re ashamed of me … and my baby. Evidently you care more for Simone’s feelings than for mine. If you want the witch to be invited to the wedding ball, then invite her, but I won’t be here!”

“God, you’re beautiful!”

Laurel blinked in surprise, not certain she had heard the pride in his voice, and the blatant desire. But when a cloud passed, revealing a sliver of a moon, and she could see Tony’s face, she saw he was grinning at her.

“Am I such an object of amusement, Tony?”

“Oh, Laurel,” he said, fairly groaning her name and pulling her toward him. “You talk too much sometimes.” He grabbed a handful of hair in his hand and moved her head near his until their lips met in a kiss that stunned her and took away her breath. His tongue traced the velvet softness of her lips to seek entry and entwine with her own tongue. A wild, swirling sensation settled in the pit of her stomach and caused her to lean weakly against him. Her arms escaped the lock-like hold he had, and she wound them around his neck to keep from falling, to pull him closer toward her until she felt consumed by a fierce need to be carried upstairs and loved like the greedy wanton she always became in Tony’s arms.

With each kiss, each touch, she gave in to the savage desire to experience finally the delights of the flesh they could give to one another. She felt his hands slip to her buttocks, enclosing her rounded softness in each palm and drawing her closer against his male hardness. She purred like a kitten when he groaned and fanned her ear with his breath. “I want to love you tonight, Laurel. Let me love you, please.”

His mouth grazed her tender earlobe, and hot flames shot through her. She had intended to wait until the night of the ball to come to him willingly, but there was no difference if she gave herself to him this night. The night would still hold sensual delights. But did Tony love her or Simone?

“Do you love me, Tony?” she whispered. “Or do you want Simone?”

“I love you, Laurel. You know that. Simone means nothing to me.”

Large, green eyes gazed up at him. “Then why do you want her at the ball?”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Because, my love, I want her and everyone to realize how happy I am that you’re my wife.”

A cry of joy escaped her, and he crushed her closer to him.

“I want you, too, Tony, more than I ever thought possible to want anyone.”

His eyes darkened with desire. “Anyone, Laurel?
Anyone?”

She knew he was alluding to the man in the cabin, and she whispered against his lips, “More than anyone, Tony.”

Pure triumph shone in Tony’s eyes. Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her through the veranda doors and past Essie’s surprised face as she cleared away the dishes in the dining room. At the staircase, he took two steps at a time and was soon entering Laurel’s room with his prize in his arms. He kicked the door shut behind them and gently placed her on her feet. Still he held her against him, somewhat afraid that if he released her, she would flee.

The scent of rose water drifted from Laurel’s hair and mingled with her womanly scent, intoxicating him and further arousing him. He wanted her with such a fierce passion that the evidence of his need was clearly visible beneath the material of his trousers.

Laurel noticed his need. Her head swam with Denise’s teachings, and her own body grew heated and ached with her own desire. More than anything, she wanted to pleasure Tony, to prove to him how much she had come to care for him. When his lips sought and found the line of her neck, she quivered and felt a melting sensation between her thighs. Moaning beneath his kiss, she splayed her hands across his broad chest. Long, caressing fingers slipped into the vee of his shirt to trail sensuously through the mat of dark hair. This time she felt Tony shudder.

“I want you so much! I love you so much, Laurel.”

Her gaze drifted to the bed, and she smiled to see that the covers had already been turned down by Gincie. She slid her eyes back to Tony just as he began to unbutton the pearl buttons on the front of her gown. Gently she halted him with a hand on his fingers.

“I want to undress you, Tony,” she breathed in a wind-soft whisper.

“God, Laurel, do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“I have an idea.” A seductive smile split her lips at the very moment her fingers began to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt. Her mind raced to Denise’s tutorings, but she couldn’t seem to remember anything the woman had told her about how to seduce a man. Laurel’s mind was clouded with desire, but she realized that the slow removal of his clothes would arouse Tony unbearably. The actual participation in such an act, she was discovering, was quite different from hearing about it. Tony’s musky scent, the feel of his arms around her waist, the salty taste of his skin where her lips planted tiny kisses next to each buttonhole caused her breathing to become irregular until she was afraid she would actually pant from wanting him. She wanted to rip the shirt off his back, but she resisted. From the dark passion she discerned on his face, she knew he was enjoying her wanton and wicked display of undressing him.

At last all the buttons were undone, and she trailed slow and burning fingers over his flesh as she helped him remove his shirt. It billowed to the floor like a white sail to land by their feet. In the candlelit room Laurel couldn’t help but appreciate her husband’s handsomeness. In fact not only did she worship him with her eyes but also with her hands as they slid along his dark, furry chest, across the steel-hard shoulder blades, over his back, then once again around to his chest where her fingertips traced a fiery path to the expanse of skin just above his belt buckle.

They hovered there for a moment. Laurel could hear Tony’s heart beating a wild staccato when he sucked in his breath. He stood so still, resembling a bronze statue, until she yanked open the buckle. Then he breathed once more, and his eyes blazed with heat, seeming to singe her image within their amber depths. She began tugging at the pants, but he stopped her a moment with surprisingly steady hands.

“What?” she asked.

Tony grinned. “My boots have to be removed first.”

Laurel giggled. Denise hadn’t mentioned boots. But the problem was easily overcome when Tony supported his long frame on a chair and pulled them off. When he stood up, he grabbed her hand and led her to the side of the bed.

“You may continue,” he invited.

Laurel’s pulses beat hard. The tip of her tongue caressed her lips as she unbuttoned Tony’s pants. She felt so lewd, so deliciously wanton. With trembling hands, she pulled the pants down the hairy expanse of muscled thigh until Tony kicked them away in an impatient gesture. In the flickering golden light Tony’s attributes were more than evident. A tiny gasp died in her throat at the awesome power of his emboldened manhood, ready to make her his own in the most intimate way possible.

She felt attracted to that part of him, almost as if her hand were a magnet. Fingers of cool velvet encircled his shaft of hot steel, moving sensuously along the length and enclosing the sensitive ridge in her palm.

A groan of pure ecstasy slipped from Tony’s lips. He pulled her against him in a fiery embrace and possessive kiss that left Laurel weak and panting.

“You’re a seductive witch, wife, and have almost pushed me beyond a mortal man’s endurance. But it’s time for you to sample a taste of your own potion.
Now,”
he said in a husky growl that sent delicious shivers up Laurel’s spine.

With sure but gentle hands, Tony released the many buttons on the front of Laurel’s gown. “You’re going to have to wear a dress without so many of these damned things,” he muttered and kissed the hollow of her neck when her ivory flesh was bared to his hungry gaze. “Makes a husband have to do extra work.”

The dress fluttered to the floor and lay at Laurel’s feet like a large, ripened peach. As she gingerly stepped out of it, Tony scowled. He fingered her corset. “And this insanity isn’t needed at all.” He untied the stays like a trained lady’s maid, and Laurel flashed a beguiling smile up at him.

“It seems you know quite a bit about a lady’s undergarments.”

The restraining corset fell away, and Laurel’s breasts broke free to be instantly captured by Tony’s hands. “I won’t lie to you, Laurel. I’ve had more than my share of undressing females, but you’re the only woman I want in my life now. I want you forever.”

Tears misted her eyes as she stood before him, dressed now only in her pantalets and stockings. She didn’t deserve such a man for a husband. Tony was much too good to her.

For the first time she verbalized what her heart had felt for the last few weeks. “I love you, Tony. I truly love you.”

A sigh of happiness escaped him, and he clutched at the top of her pantalets, his fingers seeking the tender flesh beneath the gauzy material. “I’ll never love anyone but you, Laurel. Always remember that,
chérie.’’
His mouth covered hers in a hungry kiss. Wild swirls of ecstasy shot through her. Burning lips began an exploration of her throat and sought lower until they meandered through the valley between her breasts, leaving hot molten kisses in their wake. Finally Tony’s tongue found the rosebud tips of her breasts and suckled until Laurel thought she would go insane unless the hollow ache between her thighs was filled. She arched her body against his, only mildly aware that he had pulled down the confining pantalets and was lifting her up and out of them.