Midnight Flame (24 page)

He carried her to the bed and laid her gently in the center, then took her foot in his palm. His other hand snaked across the length of her leg and slowly began to peel back one of her silk stockings. The breath caught and died in Laurel’s throat when he turned his attention to her other leg by first planting a kiss, filled with white heat along the inside of her thigh, before taking off the stocking and tossing it onto the floor to meld with its mate.

Tremors shuddered through her when at long last his hard and naked body touched hers. She felt the well-muscled contours of his chest and thighs pressed against the softness of her breasts and lower body. His aroused staff, cushioned by the dark love nest at the junction of her thighs, pressed intimately against her. She was ready for him when his hand caressed the velvety soft mound of her femininity, causing gasps of pleasure and increasing frustration to echo in the quiet room. “I want you, Tony,” she sobbed aloud.

“I know, but I want this night to blot out everything that has gone before. I want us to remember this night as the beginning of us and our love. I want you to remember the pleasure I shall give you tonight and for all the nights to come. I want you to know how much I love you.”

His name died on her lips when his tongue began a renewed exploration of her body. She writhed beneath him as it probed gently into her womanhood, bringing her to the edge of fulfillment. Her nails raked at his back when he lifted her buttocks from the bed to taste her more deeply.

She wanted him to stop, not to stop. Never in her life had she experienced such ecstasy and frustration. Her body was poised on the brink of climax, longing for the inevitable earth-shattering feeling to inundate her but also afraid to let Tony’s tongue discover such an intimate explosion.

“Tony, please…” she cried and tried to urge him up toward her, but his head held firm beneath her fingers, and he clasped her wrists in one of his large hands. She couldn’t move, and suddenly she knew it was too late. Spears of sharp heat had built to such a degree that even if Laurel had wished to stop the swirling pleasure that now washed over her, she would have been unable to halt the unbelievable sensations that rocketed her over the edge into oblivion.

The explosion against his mouth left her wet and warm. Tony pulled her against him and muffled her gasps of pleasure with his lips. “Did you like that?” he asked her seconds later, a Cheshire cat grin on his face.

Laurel smiled, dewy-eyed. “What if I told you I didn’t like it at all?”

“I’d say you were a very poor liar. The night is still young. And I want you now more than ever.”

“Oh, yes,” she whispered when she felt him lift up and begin to enter her. She wound her arms around his neck and arched her hips, meeting his first thrust.

Laurel didn’t believe anything could compare to her pleasure of minutes before, but when Tony filled her with his massive strength, her body responded. His hips ground into hers, and his hand and lips worked their magic once more over her fevered body. Moonlight spilled through the window and encased them in silver. She hoped this night, the sensations pulsating through her body, would never end.

The pleasure built slowly, but finally she clutched at him when the end was near. His lips found hers. Desire washed over her, scorching her with its intensity. Then she felt the hot liquid of Tony’s release and heard Tony shudder atop her. He groaned her name over and over, almost like a litany of love.

Both lay gasping in each other’s arms, then laughing. At last they were truly husband and wife. On this night nothing else mattered, and the man in the cabin was finally forgotten.

Though contentment reigned at Petit Coteau, the same couldn’t be said for Clermont. Simone Lancier held the gold-engraved ball invitation in her well-manicured hands and tore it into pieces before tossing the paper on the bedroom floor.

“How dare they invite me!” she ranted to Flossie, her maid, before throwing herself on the bed in a huff. “Tony only wants to see me humiliated. Everyone will stare at me and mumble, ‘Poor Simone. She couldn’t get Tony Duvalier to marry her.’ I can’t bear it!”

She hit the pillow with her fists, and Flossie stepped over to the bed with a sly look on her face.

“Now, missy, ain’t gonna do no good to get all bothered ‘bout Mr. Tony and his fancy city wife. I know somethin’ ‘bout her that you don’t.”

Simone sat up and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What could you possibly know about Madame Duvalier?”

Flossie’s white teeth gleamed in her young face. “Old Cidra, Monsieur DuLac’s housekeeper, is my aunt.”

“Heavens, Flossie! All of Washington knows that.”

Flossie continued as if Simone hadn’t interrupted. “Old Cidra told me she heard Mrs. Duvalier talkin’ to Denise Abadie ‘bout Mr. Tony.”

“And?’ Simone prompted when Flossie grew quiet, annoyed at the girl for dragging out the story.

Sitting beside her mistress, Flossie shot Simone a big white smile. “Seems that Mr. Tony ain’t been sleepin’ with his wife, that the missus is fearful he’s taken up with you again. Mrs. Abadie told her she should give a ball to spur Mr. Tony’s interest in her. If all the rooms done be filled, then he’ll have to sleep in his wife’s bed.”

“Hmm. Quite interesting,” Simone observed and wondered how she could profit from such information. Her pulses quickened, and a delighted grin appeared on her face. So, Laurel Delaney was jealous of her. Perhaps Tony might succumb to her charms yet, if she could think of another angle to win him back.

“But that ain’t all, missy. Mrs. Duvalier is havin’ a baby.”

“I knew that already!” Simone snapped. “All of Washington knows that Tony is going to be the proud father.”

“But all of Washington don’t know that the baby ain’t Mr. Tony’s child. Seems Mrs. Duvalier got herself pregnant by another man.”

Simone sucked in her breath, unable to believe what Flossie was telling her. Such news was unbelievable! Absolutely shocking! Wonderfully delicious!

She grabbed Flossie by the arms and shook her. “You better not be lying to me, girl, or I’ll—”

Flossie cut her off, fear in her large black eyes. “I ain’t lyin’, missy. Old Cidra will tell you what she heard.”

“But Cidra is half-deaf. How do I know she heard correctly?”

The girl shrugged. “I only know what she told me.”

“Get out of here,” Simone commanded and pushed the girl off the bed. Like a frightened puppy, Flossie scampered from the room.

Simone rose from the bed and paced the room. If old Cidra had heard correctly, then she must plan well. She had to win back Tony and expose Laurel Delaney for the trollop she was. Evidently Laurel had lied to Tony and told him the child was his, and the big fool had accepted her story. Simone seethed. To think that he could have married her, a Lancier, one of the most respected families in the parish, or the family had been respected until her father took to the bottle. However, a bride from an old established family was better than marrying a woman whose ancestors were born in, of all places, Texas. What could Tony expect? she wondered. Laurel Delaney may have been born in New Orleans and educated up North, but her heritage left much to be desired. After all, Tony knew nothing about her family or about her.

“The bastard got what he deserved!” she ground out between clenched teeth. But Simone still wanted to be Tony’s wife. She needed his wealth, and more than that, she craved his perfect male body. The nights were so unfulfilling since Tony met Laurel Delaney. No man could give her the ecstasy Tony had.

She stopped her pacing. Her eyes flew to the torn remnants on the floor. A plan for vengeance swam in her brain like a large fish in a small bowl, eager to swim free. She knew Tony hated scandal. And if the news about Laurel and her child became public knowledge, he would hate Laurel, too. He might appear duped to his friends and neighbors, but Simone felt he deserved some retribution for throwing aside her affections. How could one not look foolish in such a situation? Besides, Laurel and Tony weren’t sleeping together, and whatever the reason, Simone was grateful.

An unattractive, high-pitched laugh escaped from her. She picked up the pieces of paper and danced around the room like a witch before a cauldron.

This was one ball she definitely wouldn’t miss.

~ ~ ~

“Damn!” Tony muttered and kicked at the soft earth with the toe of his boot. Glancing up at his foreman, his brow furrowed. “What’s the matter with you, Rabelais? Can’t you keep an eye on my herd? This is the tenth cow I’ve lost in the last few months.”

Leon Rabelais’s tanned face paled beneath Tony’s black gaze, and he appeared sheepish as he sat on his horse, nervously rubbing the reins between his hands. “I’m sorry, Monsieur Tony. I covered the south forty last night, and the rest of the men kept an eye on the northern prairie. There is a crafty thief afoot.”

“Evidently craftier than the likes of you and the rest of the men I pay to guard the herd.” Tony flicked his riding crop and leaned an arm against the fence post. “Double the patrol tonight,” he ordered. “And if one head is missing in the morning, you’re all out of a job.”

“Oui,
monsieur,” Rabalais stiffly intoned and swiftly rode away.

Tony’s eyes traveled to the endless plain of green and yellow-gold prairie, topped by a brilliant blue, late spring sky. In the distance the cattle grazed on the sweet grass. He wondered how long these thefts would continue. For months now the prairie area had been plagued by them, but it was only within the last three or four months that his herd had been singled out. Thankfully, not one of the Brahmans had been stolen, but Tony didn’t relish the idea of a thief stealing him blind, right under his very nose. Each head was precious to him, and he vowed that not another theft would occur. He would find this thief and bring him to justice.

He had a suspicion that the Jeanfreaus, the family who inhabited one of the shanties on the other side of his property line, were responsible, but he couldn’t catch them in the act or prove they had stolen the cattle. Sometimes he would sit his horse and watch them, hoping to intimidate them. Other times, he would sneak out of the house at night after Laurel was asleep and wait under cover of darkness for the Jeanfreaus to make a move. He had thought he could count on his men to help him. He had enlisted, the aid of young Hippolyte Dauzet to spy on the family for him when he couldn’t. So far, according to Hippolyte, the Jeanfreaus were innocent.

Tony cursed again, aggravated with himself. Last night he should have been on watch, but he had been with Laurel. Thinking about her washed away the scowl with a smile. Each night for the last week, they had shared glorious passion, and he no longer discerned that strange haunted look in her eyes. In fact he believed that the night in the cabin had been dissipated from her mind. He felt momentarily disappointed that she had forgotten that night, but he believed it was for the best. The night that mattered was the one where she became his wife in the true sense of the word, and for all the nights to come, Laurel was his now.

Still, things would not be perfect until the thefts were stopped. Well, he reasoned philosophically as he headed back to the house to find Laurel and entice her into bed for a morning tryst, he no longer worried about her discovering he had kidnapped her. One day, perhaps, he would tell her, but not now. Their relationship was still blossoming, and he didn’t want to ruin it.

~ ~ ~

Laurel lay in Tony’s arms, oblivious to everything around her but the sound of Tony’s steady breathing, the feel of his skin beneath her hands, and the warm flush staining her body from Tony’s possession. She was happy, probably happier than she had ever been in her entire life. And she was having a child, a child that Tony accepted as his own.

Her hand crept to her still flat abdomen and stroked it lovingly. No matter who the father of this child was, she loved her baby already. She realized that with Tony raising her baby, the child would never be unloved or want for anything. At last, Laurel had found a place where she belonged, and that was right here in Tony’s arms.

Her contented sigh drifted on the midmorning air. Tony stirred and glanced up at her. Their eyes met in a mutual smile.

“You look like a well-fed kitten,” he commented and kissed the tip of her nose.

She stretched luxuriously. Her arching back lowered the bedcovers to reveal her beautiful and well-shaped breasts to Tony. “I feel as contented as one.”