Rags to Rubies (21 page)

He’d embarrassed her—no, embarrassed himself—and humiliated her. She no longer found anything in his character to admire. His selfish actions had revealed his true character.

At that moment, she realized with startling clarity that during Adam’s kiss one love had finally vanished and another had taken its place:
She loved Jared.
She wanted
his
kisses,
his
embrace.

And his love, she thought sadly. Suddenly, the night’s breeze was no longer refreshing. She shivered.

A few feet from where she stood, a shadow shifted and then rose from a bench on the path. “I’m sorry, Grace. I tried not to eavesdrop, but I didn’t know how to extricate myself gracefully.”

As Will began to rise from the bench, a muted popping sound came from somewhere behind her. Grace felt a slicing pain across her right shoulder. Will’s body slammed violently back against the bench, then slumped forward.

Grace caught him before he fell to the gravel path, dead weight in her arms. “Will! Will, what’s wrong?” She was vaguely aware of something wet and sticky on her arm, and then her shoulder began to burn like the devil.

She saw Will’s eyes roll back in his head. “Will! Stay with me! Will—
Will!
” When she lowered him onto the bench, Will’s jacket opened. In the moonlight, Grace watched in horror as a dark circular stain spread on the left side of his white shirt.

She gasped, “You’re bleeding! Oh, my God! Will, stay still.” She pressed her hand on the wound, wondering how she could minister to him and still call for help above the din of the ocean and the raucous music.

As if in answer to her prayer, Jared appeared from nowhere and assessed the situation quickly. “We need to get him to a hospital. There’s one about three miles from here. Can you keep your hand on the wound, Grace, while I carry him?”

Grace nodded numbly. Jared picked his friend up with little effort. They skirted the lawn around the house and found Henry parked near the entrance, anticipating his employer’s usual preference to leave a party early.

Will moaned as Jared set him gently on the seat.

“What about Agnes?” Grace asked. “I should go back...” Suddenly she felt very woozy and the lights were dimming...or was it the moon?
And where was she, anyway
?

Grace’s eyelids fluttered then drooped as she fainted. Jared reached for her just as she fell, sweeping her legs from under her and placing her gently on the seat opposite Will. A dark trail started from her shoulder and wound a path down her arm. Jared knelt between them on the floor of the vehicle.

“St. Francis Memorial. And step on it, Henry!”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Jared sat on the hard wooden bench of St. Francis Memorial Hospital’s waiting room, his head buried in his hands.

Henry had been dispatched to bring Agnes to the hospital. When she arrived, the anguish visible on her face swept to relief as Jared informed her Will was in surgery but his chances were very good. The bullet had missed the heart and lung, and now, with penicillin, chances of dying from infection were slim.

Together they waited for the results. He held Agnes as she wept and poured out all her fear, anger, and the frustrated love she felt for her husband. Several hours later, when Will returned from surgery, Agnes went to his side. The surgery had been successful, but recovery would be slow.

Grace had been taken to a room where her arm was treated, a superficial wound that had bled profusely but was not life threatening. She had been given something for pain and a sedative. When she woke up, she could be taken home, the doctor had said.

Jared ran his fingers through his hair. He had failed to protect her. In his self-involvement, he’d failed to see anything outside of his own lust.

He had hesitated to follow her when she left the crowded party. Jealousy had clouded his judgment and almost cost Grace her life, as well as allowing Will’s injury.

Only he knew the seriousness of the situation they were in, and he’d told no one except Sallie and Donagon. He arrogantly had decided he would handle the problem, not the police. How cocksure he’d been. She had refused his protection, and when he forced it upon her, he had ultimately failed her.

He’d been searching the partygoers, trying to locate Grace, becoming slightly uneasy at her absence. She wasn’t with Agnes or on the dance floor.

When he spotted her across the lawn, he paused to admire her silhouette, revealed by the bright lights. Through the delicate chiffon fabric of her dress and slip, he could see the shape of her legs all the way to her beautifully curved derriere. Her foot tapped out the rhythm of the song and she swayed to the lively music.

Then her head turned to the right and her body stiffened noticeably. The champagne glass slipped from her hand and bounced on the lawn. Jared had started toward her when he saw a tall, blond man approaching like a predator setting sights on a bit of prey. Jared quickened his steps but stopped abruptly when the man picked Grace up and twirled her around, then bent to kiss her.

He couldn’t read Grace’s expression, but he wasn’t prepared for the flash of searing jealousy that rocked him to his core. With hands clenched into fists at his sides, he watched numbly as the man led Grace from the lawn down a path to the ocean, one arm around her shoulder.

Grace must have known him well to go off with him like that, Jared reasoned. He shoved one hand into his pocket and stared after them. Jealousy and rage clouded his judgment, though he knew very well he had no exclusive rights. He’d been careful not to make promises and could expect none in return. He felt desire for her and a sense to make sure she came to no harm, yet the idea of sharing her with another man twisted his gut into knots. He spun on his heel, made his way to the bar, and ordered a whiskey neat.

What did he want with a woman like Grace, anyway?
He swirled the amber liquid in the glass. Sure, he admired her spunk and courage, but she was too inexperienced to give him the pleasure he expected in a bed partner. He could have her—and then what would he do with her?

He should leave her to her friend or whoever the hell he was. Had he been her former lover? The thought of the blond-haired man with his hands all over Grace clawed at his insides.

Scowling, he tossed the whiskey down.

He’d slammed the glass on the bar and stormed off to find her, thinking she’d best have a good reason for wandering off like that.

When he found her, she stood alone on the path in the moonlight. The man was gone, and Jared felt an unnerving wave of relief. The tightness in his chest began to ease, and then she turned as if someone had spoken to her, and Jared could see a dark form rising from the bench behind her. He heard the popping sound over his right shoulder, recognizing it as the sound of a gun with a silencer, followed by the sound of underbrush being crushed beneath retreating steps in the darkness.

Grace had reached out to grasp the man falling to the gravel path.

“Mr. de Warre?”

Jared lifted his head from his hands.

“Mr. de Warre?” the nurse said gently, “I believe Miss Hathaway is ready to go home.”

****

Though Jared assured Grace that Will would recover, she insisted on seeing him for herself. She spent considerable time giving comfort to Agnes before she allowed herself to be taken to Ravenhall.

Jared helped her climb the staircase to the second floor. She hesitated a few steps from the top, and thinking she might topple backward, he swept her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

Sitting in a large, upholstered chair, Jared pulled her onto his lap, cradling her, speaking soothingly into her ear. He felt the teardrops wet his shirt before the racking sobs tore through her, her body reacting violently to the events of the last few hours. With quiet, comforting words, he stroked her gently until the sobs stopped and she hiccupped and became still.

“I was so frightened,” she whispered in a tiny voice. He knew she now realized the danger was real, that this crazed person could kill her.

“So was I, love,” Jared said, surprised at himself for uttering the endearment again.

She curled against him, her chin against his damp shirt. “Who did this?”

“I don’t know, but hush, Grace. We’ll talk about this tomorrow. You need rest now. You’ll make yourself sick. It’s two o’clock in the morning.”

“I’m afraid to sleep.” Her red-rimmed eyes rose to meet his. Shifting, she cupped his face in her hands. “I want you. Now. Tonight.” Her lips brushed his. “Make love to me.”

“It is not me you want, Grace.” Her sensual offer sent shivers down his spine, but he knew from the battlefield that sometimes a brush with death made a person want to affirm life in a physical way.

She brushed her lips over his. “Now, please, Jared. I know you want me.”

She kissed him. First with a gentleness that spoke of surrender, then with a passion that hinted of long-pent-up desires. Yanking his shirt from his trousers, she ran her fingertips beneath it, seeming to need to touch him, to feel his skin.

Her hands roamed over the muscles of his chest and arms, exploring the curves and contours as if committing the details to memory. She kissed him, parting his lips with her tongue, tasting him, exploring him.

The sensual, tactile assault continued until he was beyond reason with the exquisite torture. She pulled back and said, “I don’t know how to do this. Show me.”

Several long moments passed, where all the reasons not to concede to her request coalesced in his mind. Then Jared rose from the chair and gently placed Grace on her feet.

This was the right time, the right place in time. He knew he needed her at this moment as much as she needed him. Two souls that could only be salved with the gift of each other. He peeled away the blood-sodden dress and dropped it to the floor.

“Is there pain?”

“No,” she whispered.

He removed her remaining clothing slowly, until she stood naked and beautiful before him.

He had never taken a virgin to his bed. A wave of tenderness washed over him, replacing the burning urgency he had been experiencing for weeks.

Moonlight cascaded through the window, painting the room with silver hues. He heard a cricket’s song and felt the night’s dew from the open window. The scent of roses lingered and mixed with her unique feminine scent.

Moving to the edge of the bed, Grace unbuttoned his trousers while he slipped off his shirt. She lowered the trousers over his hips along with his cotton long shorts. He removed his shoes, stepped out of the clothes, and slid them over with his foot.

If she was surprised at his healthy erection, her expression didn’t show it for only a look of contentment graced her face. Pressing back into the softness of the featherbed, she held out her arms.

“Come here,” she whispered, speaking the last words either would utter for a long while.

Jared joined her on the bed, taking her with care in his arms, kissing, caressing, and exploring her with his hands and tongue, whisper-soft at first, then more intimately, finding and lingering at every spot that elicited a moan of pleasure from her.

And so the sounds led him, teaching him all her secret places, until she was in that other place in her mind where pleasure becomes almost painful and the urgency uncontrollable.

Only then did he lower himself between her thighs and begin to enter her velvet wetness, slowly, carefully stretching her, waiting for her body to accept him. She moaned and desperately pulled at him, meeting the pressure with arching hips. He hesitated, not wanting to cause her the pain he knew he would inflict. Then, to his surprise, she pulled him into her body, uttering a muffled cry as her virginity was breached.

“I’m sorry... Grace, I’m so sorry,” he said barely recognizing the huskiness of his own voice. “Are you all right?” His muscles shook from the effort to keep from moving. He lay still within her, allowing time for her to relax, his kisses helping her break free from the last vestiges of pain.

She made a sweet, soft sound into his mouth and raised her hips to urge him deeper, moving against him, slowly at first, then with more intensity.

A rhythm began. An ancient rhythm and, with it, an incredible matchless feeling.

Jared searched her face for reassurance as he moved within her. Her eyes fluttered open every few moments, her focus on a place deep within her own body. Pleasure washed over him as he moved faster, thrusting deeper each time.

He knew she approached a precipice she had never been to before. He knew when she came to the edge of it for those few transcending seconds. He knew when she tumbled over the edge into the staggering spasms of release, for he read every divine moment of it on her face. He had never seen anything so wonderfully feminine or so sensual in his entire life.

And then he followed her into that place, his own climax shattering him as no other had, a searing explosion ending with her name.

They dozed together, joined, for a long while, then slowly he withdrew, not wanting to cause her any more discomfort.

“I’m glad it was you,” she murmured softly as she faded into sleep. He pulled her to him spoon-like, the curve of her backside snug against his body.

Jared lay next to her, thinking what a beautiful gift she had just given him. He considered himself a man of varied experiences. He certainly hadn’t expected to find anything new in a virgin’s bed, but he had.

She snuggled closer. It was infinitely gratifying to simply hold her. They slept wrapped in each other’s arms.

Dawn entered the chamber softly, giving Jared enough dim light to study her sleeping form. He remembered how during the night she had initiated their lovemaking again. Quickly and urgently this time. She seemed to need him inside her, holding him there for a long time afterward.

Then he had risen to get a warm wash cloth to clean away the evidence of her virginity from her thighs. Although embarrassed, she let him perform this meaningful act. He took a strong pleasure in being a source of comfort to her, but when she slept again, the shame came.