Sweet Temptation (31 page)

“I’d like it better if you weren’t on speaking terms with half the men in Scotland,” he said, trying to sound offhand and succeeding only in sounding jealous.

“I daresay I don’t know any of them half as well as you know Miss Fraser.”

“Oh, her. That’s all right.”

“Well, how was I to know that in Scotland it’s perfectly acceptable for a woman to throw herself at a man? I wonder why it should be just the opposite in England? Oh dear,” she said with an innocent fluttering of her eyelashes. “How very much I still have to learn about Scotland.”

“You know Colleen’s behavior is not acceptable. I heard Donald Fraser tell you so.”

“Then I wonder why you put up with it so cheerfully.”

“I told you …”

“…we were childhood playmates,” Sara finished for him. “It’s a pity Ian and I weren’t playmates as well. Then I could hang on his arm all evening, and it would be perfectly acceptable.”

“It would be no such thing, and you know it,” Gavin said, a rueful grin breaking the rigidity of his features. “I can’t entirely avoid Colleen’s attention without making an unpleasant scene, and possibly creating hard feelings.”

Sara decided that, in all fairness, she was probably being too hard on Gavin. After all, it was Colleen who had been so obvious, and he had tried to divide his attentions among the other ladies.

“I promise I won’t say anymore. It must be hard to readjust old friendships when you take a wife. Besides, it’s probably just jealousy on my part. I’ve always wanted flaming red hair, and all I have is this pale stuff.”

Gavin looked at her in surprise. He’d never realized her hair was any less vivid than Colleen’s. “I like your hair,” he decided. “It suits you, kind of dignified and elegant.”

Sara decided that remark made amends for Colleen’s pursuit. He could take her in his arms this very moment, and she wouldn’t say him nay. Instead, he walked her to her door and waited patiently until Betty arrived to attend her mistress. Thrown temporarily off stride by Betty’s scolding her for being up late and endangering her complexion, Sara allowed Gavin to leave before she knew whether she should wait up for him. For some reason, tonight she felt absolutely incapable of asking him.

Gavin proceeded to his room and poured himself a brandy, but the unhurried pace belied the tempest raging inside him. Whatever the reason for Sara’s agreeing to marry him, it was not just for money, position, and freedom. He didn’t begrudge her that, it would have been foolish for her to marry to her disadvantage, but she would not be willing to stay in Scotland, learn to understand his country, and bear his children, if those alone had been her goals. She
must
care for him. Oh, he knew what his father and mother had said, but it was a different thing to see proof, to have her volunteer to give up something she wanted for him, to try to become something because of him.

Nevertheless, he warned himself to proceed with caution. Many a laudable intent ran shallow, or lasted for only a short time. His mother had been fooled by a man she thought wanted her more than he wanted her money. He would not be taken in by a similar protestation, even if the protestor did have blue eyes, an eminently kissable mouth, and a waist he could circle with his two hands.

But reason no longer held the rein on his emotions. Simple desire, unseeing and unyielding, had gained the upper hand, and he was willing to dare anything, risk anything, to be with Sara. Tomorrow was soon enough to concern himself with the future. Tonight, for a few hours at least, he only wanted nothing more than to lie in her arms, feel the comfort of her body, and believe that someday she would come to him for himself rather than what he brought to her. A barely heard closing door told him that Betty had left Sara’s room, and that she was alone.

He walked over to the door that separated them, aware that his heart was beating so rapidly he could feel it. He paused to take a few deep breaths and calm his racing pulse, but his hand could not wait, and the door opened before he was fully ready. A candle burned at Sara’s bedside; she was sitting up, waiting for him, wearing nothing but a thin nightgown that barely concealed her shoulders.

“I hoped you would come.”

“I couldn’t stay away.” He halted near the bed, content for the moment just to look at her. There was something very restful about her, something soothing and comforting. Odd that he should feel this way; it should be the other way around. She was such a slender thing, barely half his size, it almost seemed impossible that she could be a danger to him, but he felt the doubt drain away from him, leaving him prey only to the hunger which seemed to increase with every second he was in her presence.

He sat down on the bed and took her hand in his. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to come.”

“You’re my husband.”

“I’m not speaking of a duty,” Gavin said, trying to keep his mind on his words rather than on her lips. They were pursed, moist, inviting, and he could feel them already touching his own, caressing his cheek, covering his face in a passionate outpouring of pent-up energy. “I wasn’t sure you
wanted
me.” He didn’t know why he asked such a question, at least not why he should be asking it now. He didn’t think he could leave her now, no matter what her reply.

“I’ve always wanted you,” she replied simply. “I was afraid at first, but I’m not anymore.” She took his hand and pressed it to her cheek. “I didn’t know how wonderful it could be.”

Gavin took her hands and pressed kisses into both palms, then held them in a tight grasp as he leaned forward and kissed Sara gently on the lips. Sara leaned toward him, meeting him eagerly, kissing him as hungrily as he kissed her. With a shuddering groan, Gavin dropped to the bed, pressed Sara’s head tight against his chest, and dropped kisses on her hair.

“I don’t know why you dislike your hair so much,” he murmured. “I think it’s beautiful.”

“Then I don’t care,” Sara said, feeling a bubble of happiness forcing its way to the surface. “You’re the one who has to look at it.”

“And your eyes and your lips and your ears …”

“You can’t like my ears,” Sara said, sitting up in amazement, realizing it was the last thing she wanted to do, and sinking blissfully back into Gavin’s embrace.

“I like everything about you. You’re a very lovely woman. I’m sure Ian told you so.”

“He would never be so indiscreet,” Sara said, holding tightly to a shiver of delight. Jealousy was a wonderful thing, as long as it was Gavin who suffered from it and not herself.

“Then he’s a fool,” Gavin said, and kissed her hungrily on the lips. Sara wrapped her arms about him and pulled him down on the bed with her. She responded to his kisses with equal fervor, her tongue eagerly exploring his mouth, her body pressed tightly against him.

Minutes later, by means of some acrobatic expertise known only to Gavin, he had slipped out of his clothes from the waist up, and Sara happily let her hands wander over his torso, exploring the rippling muscles of his chest, the powerful curves of his arms, the firm plane of his stomach. She wondered if her hands gave him even one tenth the pleasure his hands gave her. His lips continued to scatter kisses on her eyelids, nose, ears, virtually every part of her face within reach, but each of his hands had captured a breast and they were methodically kneading them into a firm, excruciatingly sensitive state. Her gown had disappeared as mysteriously as his clothes.

Gavin’s lips deserted her lips for her right breast, and with the freed hand he quickly slipped out of his remaining clothes and into the bed next to her. With a sigh of utter contentment, Sara snuggled up against him, until the whole length of her body was heated by his scalding flesh. She held his head tightly between her breasts, hoping to assure herself he would never leave her again. It felt so good, so natural to be with him. It frightened her to think of a future alone.

She thought of Betty’s warnings, of the whispered cautions the schoolgirls had repeated, of Miss Rachel’s veiled warning, and she could have laughed out loud. Only Letty Brown, a woman they would have refused to acknowledge, had known the truth and had dared to put it into words. What if she hadn’t had the courage to go up to Letty that day, or to ask questions she was certain no respectable woman had ever asked a camp follower? Then she would have missed holding Gavin like this, of feeling a part of him in a way that was impossible to discover by any other method. There were no roles to play, no poses to maintain, no clothes to denote a false sense of personal importance, just a man and a woman sharing their bodies with each other within the blessed sacrament of marriage.

Sara wondered if this wonderful sense of belonging, of feeling at one with Gavin, was why her father missed her mother so terribly all those years. But if this alliance of bodies could be so wonderful, what unimaginable joys must await those lucky enough to achieve a fusion of souls? And Sara was sure that her parents had felt as though they were merged into one. She wondered if she and Gavin would ever become so unified, but to achieve that she had to talk with him, find out what it was that was keeping them apart. After getting a glimpse of the rapture her parents found together, she knew she would never be satisfied with less.

But Gavin’s need became more insistent and Sara yielded her body to him, joyfully and completely, welcoming him to join with her, encouraging him to do with her as he would.

Gavin gloried in the feel of Sara’s body next to his. Her skin was soft and fragrant, the taste of her minty kisses lingered on his lips, and the fragrance of dusky roses in his nostrils. The soft sound of her rapid breatbing made his heart beat a little faster. Never before had it meant so much to him to know that he was giving a woman pleasure. It made his blood sing in his ears, and his need to possess her fully blossomed like a morning glory at midday. He entered her slowly, fully, and felt his entire being quiver with unimagined sensual delight.

With practiced skill, Gavin moved within Sara, slowly building her pleasure, suddenly rushing forward, and just as suddenly holding back, keeping her off balance, keeping her wanting more, or overcome by the rush of feeling, until she was utterly incapable of doing anything except responding to his body, moving as he moved, breathing as he breathed. Then a moan of pleasure escaped her lips, and he rapidly drove her up to and over the crest of ecstatic release, and she subsided limply within his arms.

They lay next to each other for some time, only the sound of their breathing breaking the silence, and Gavin wondered what it was about Sara that made being with her so different from Clarice. She was not as skilled in lovemaking, she did not participate as actively, and she hadn’t yet learned how to seek out his pleasure, yet he felt more at peace, more fulfilled, than he had ever felt before. There was no longer this obsession to drive himself to exhaustion, in pursuit of some kind of sexual release he had never experienced until now. It was as though a demon had ridden his back for years, and for the first time he had been able to shake him off. It wouldn’t last, it would begin all over again in the morning, but for tonight, at least, he could find succor in Sara’s arms.

He wondered why he had found it at all, but more importantly, why had he found it with Sara? Oddly enough, he knew it didn’t depend on the loveliness of her body; even less did it depend on her beauty. This wonderful quality flowed from some inner source he had not seen, but then he had not allowed himself to look outside himself or inside anyone else for years. He now realized that his preoccupation with himself had caused him to miss the most important part of the people around him. He didn’t know Sara, he never had, and if he was going to get the answers to any of his questions, he had to start learning.

“Do you like me as much as the other women?” Sara asked unexpectedly, when her breathing returned to normal. She had been lying here wondering what was going on in Gavin’s mind, torturing herself with doubts and teasing herself with hopes. It was a dangerous question to ask, but she had to know the answer. They couldn’t go on fencing in the dark, each afraid to reach out to the other, each afraid that something would be wrong, or less than they had hoped for, and drawing back for fear of disappointment.

“More,” Gavin murmured in her ear. Even though he was half-drunk from gratified passion, his voice carried enough conviction to persuade Sara that he was telling the truth. “My father was right when he said I would tire of overripeness.” And for once Gavin didn’t care what his father thought. He seemed so content where he was, that Sara ventured another question.

“Why did you stay away from me after Edinburgh?” She felt Gavin tense, and wondered if she shouldn’t have waited, but it was too late now.

‘That’s difficult to say,” Gavin responded absently, too deeply satisfied to want to do anything except bask in the afterglow.

“Please try, for my sake,” she asked softly. “It’s important to both of us.”

Gavin felt a stab of resentment as he pulled his mind from its state of blissful half-consciousness. He didn’t want to have to think deeply, but more importantly he didn’t want to take the edge off this moment by probing into areas of his soul that could only cause him pain. He had spent years building his defenses, hardening every sensitive spot, hoping he would never have to feel such pain again.

He had adored his father, and he could remember, as though it had just happened, the discovery that the father he thought he knew didn’t exist, that he was a complete fabrication, that the man he had idolized was in reality a monster of selfishness and cruelty. It had been an even more bitter torment than the day he finally realized his mother would never again be the vital, splendid creature he remembered from his childhood, that she would remain frail and bedridden until she died. Life was treacherous; she would give generously of her bounty, and then snatch it all back after it had sunk deep roots. He could still feel the terrible agony of that ripping and tearing, as nearly everything he held dear was wrenched from his grasp, as the very foundations of his life disintegrated under his feet, and he instinctively veered away from opening the wounds again.