Catch Me If You Can (17 page)

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Authors: Juliette Cosway

BOOK: Catch Me If You Can
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Why
, he asked himself,
why am I overcome by such jealousy?

Desire had obviously clouded his thinking. When he’d seen her standing on the stairs with that look on her face, his loins immediately flooded with energy, his body straining to be close to her. He wanted her, yes. And badly. Was there something else, that painful ache he experienced when he thought he’d estranged her, aboard ship? Could it be that he…loved her?

It was an extremely foreign concept to a man such as Rivers.

What he was damn sure of was that he wanted to know more of this woman. This woman who kept him awake at night since he’d first laid eyes on her, and when he did sleep, he dreamt of her. He needed to understand this. He needed to know what this emotion was that haunted him constantly. Above all, he wanted to keep her by his side and make love to her again.

He stepped into the ballroom soon after the revelries of the chimed hour diminished, and spied her wandering to the refreshments room. He quickly darted to the entrance closer to his present position, collected two champagne glasses and met her with them as she entered the room at the far end. She eyed him with curiosity as she took the glass. She was as beautiful and desirable as ever. The medieval gown became her and he adored the sight of her with her hair loose about her shoulders.
It wasn’t a mistake
, he told himself,
what had happened between
them
. Besides, what had been done could not be undone. It could only be claimed and built upon.

“Here’s to 1897 and the onward journey.”

“Yes, indeed,” she replied. They touched their glasses together.

“Did you enjoy the celebrations?”

She nodded.

He noted the desire in her eyes, the way her breasts rose and fell with the quickness of her breathing. She was willing and aroused too. Good, that suited his plans, such as they were. Rivers decided he would attempt to win his way into her company by wooing her in ways she appreciated, physical ways. The reason for his extreme willingness to pursue that line of attack was persistently ignored. As far as he was concerned, he’d spent the early part of the evening readying her and making her aware that he desired her. The fact he’d had to leave rapidly when he was overcome with physical lust in public on the dance floor was another detail he persistently ignored.

“Not enough celebration for you, perhaps?” He smiled.

Her eyes held a mischievous sparkle. She was about to surrender, he was sure of it. He played another card. “How would the good lady care to celebrate the advent of this New Year? With something less formal?” His hand swept the ballroom in dismissal. “Something more intimate and exciting perhaps?”

She stared up at him as he closed on her, her mouth softly open, and her eyes wide.

He leaned close, whispering against her ear. “My dear Eleanor, how would you care to watch the dawn rise from your bed while I pleasure you to capacity?”

Eleanor gasped. She glanced around as if to check that no one was within hearing distance.

He chuckled and sipped his champagne. The remaining guests were dancing to a slow waltz, or sitting sleepily in the lounge sofas at the other end of the ballroom. “Why, I do believe my little rebel heart is afraid for her honor. Am I right, Miss Craven?” 

“Whenever has it concerned me what others might think?” Her eyes flashed up at him, responding just as he’d hoped.

He took the glass from her hand and put it with his own on a nearby table.

“So, you are not adverse to my suggestion?” He hardly needed to ask. The intense heat between their bodies indicated what the outcome of the conversation would be. Their hands were softly entwined. He pulled her closer, she held back, then she reached out to lay her hand against the surface of his uniform, above his heart.

“Who did you have in mind to pleasure my body until dawn, might I enquire?”

“Eleanor.” He held her wrist tightly and drew her into the shelter of a huge potted fern that stood nearby. “I don’t believe I’ve offered you a New Year kiss, my darling rebel,” he whispered.

His mouth was already against hers as he completed his sentence. He pulled her close against him, encasing her in his arms. She was lush and soft under him, and he was hard with need. Her mouth opened, their kiss searing them.
No turning back.

“I can feel the heat of your desire,” he whispered as they drew apart.

She pursed her pretty mouth and looked at him from under her lashes.

He held her tighter still. “Don’t deny it, lover.”

He held her captive in one strong arm, the other he lifted to slowly trail his fingertip across her cleavage. The tremor of anticipation that his provocative movement stirred thrilled him. She shivered with arousal, a low whimper rising in her throat.

“Now, my little minx, tell me exactly where your room is. Describe it carefully. I’ll go there and wait for you. No one knows who’s in the building and who is not. Your honor will be safe.” He gave her a cheeky grin. “You follow later, leave it a few minutes.”

Her hands were still against his chest, her eyes flashing and her voice breathless as she gave him the instructions. “It’s on the third floor. Go right at the top of the stairs, it’s the fourth door on the right. There’s a painting of the harbor outside the door, on the left hand side.”

He kissed her fingertips before stepping away, leaving Eleanor wavering like a slight reed in the haul of a powerful current.

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

Lured by The Hunter

 

 

Eleanor remained close to the pillar that had hidden them from view, and tried to steady her wildly beating heart. Questions darted about in her mind, questions that blocked her path to the stairs. Would it be dangerous to get close to him again? Would she risk losing her resolve, would it slide away into nothing within the embrace of his arms?

She stepped out then paused by the door, one hand gripping the frame, looking over at the foot of stairs where they had first touched that evening, where he’d whispered gently to her and looked at her with such adoration in his eyes.

She walked to the stairs.

Why shouldn’t she enjoy the pleasures that he offered her? She’d already made the decision for herself aboard ship and what was lost couldn’t be regained. There was no moral code to be obeyed now. They’d abandoned that, there was only two grown people indulging their passion for one another.

Passion
, she thought,
yes, their passion for one another
. She moved faster, an invisible thread drawing her in the wake of his footsteps.

She recalled the feeling of his body against hers, the exquisite sensations he’d nurtured and set free inside her. She wanted to know them again. Her footsteps quickened as she climbed the stairs. She glanced behind her toward the echoing music and faint voices still coming from the ballroom and anterooms.

When she reached her bedchamber she paused outside the heavy mahogany paneled door, and pushed her hair back. There was no one about in the gloom of the passage. She opened the door quietly, quickly moving inside and closing it behind her. She leaned against it, as if to close out the world.

A small lamp glowed by the bedside.

Rivers stood there, his tall lean frame half cast in shadows, his eyes on her. She wanted him. The power of her desire strengthened her determination. She left the door and walked to him.

He smiled, indolently. “You managed to wait...” He flicked open his pocket watch. “…about two and a half minutes. How eager you are to reach your bed.” His tone was teasing.

“I won’t deny it.” Her erratic heartbeat made her bold.

He smiled at her remark, and she arched her eyebrow. “And you, sir, you are here – in my private room, when by rights I should send you on your way.” 

She was gratified to witness a flicker of doubt in his eyes. No, she’d no intention of sending him away and perhaps couldn’t, so strong was her need, but his arrogance had to be tempered before she let him take control of her body once more.

He touched her hair, running his hand down its shimmering length, the simple gesture somehow claiming her. “I would respect your decision. But you wouldn’t send me away, now, would you?”

“I should.” She braved herself. “However I find myself curious regarding your statement about pleasuring me until dawn.” 

He looked deep into her eyes.

“Is it possible?” she queried, with as much dignity as she could muster.

His eyes shone, his mouth curling. “Believe me, I’m going to do my damndest to find out.”

His mouth descended to hers. He leaned over her, his hands crushing her body to his. Her lips parted. She caressed his neck and slid one hand down inside the open jacket of his uniform.

She tilted her head back, limbs heavy with desire, fingers entwined in his hair. “I want you, Rivers, and I cannot think of a better way to bring in the New Year than discovering more about this passion…” Her voice faltered. “…that we seem to share.”

“Nor I.” His voice was hoarse.

She moved against him, increasingly aware of her own ability to stir him. “I want to learn how to pleasure you,” she whispered. “I need to learn more about this lovemaking.”

He groaned.

Even through the layers of clothes, the size and power of his growing erection was evident.

“Oh, you pleasure me, Eleanor. You pleasure me whenever I lay my eyes on you.” He clasped her waist before moving his hands under her velvet-enclosed breasts. “When I touch you, my body is in a state of acute pleasure.” He kissed her neck. “When I dream of you, I’m sent close to madness.”

The desperation in his voice and the intimacy of his words rushed over her, reacting like hot air with the flames inside her. They moved in unison toward the bed. Eleanor took his jacket off while still kissing him. Eagerly pulling at his shirt, she kissed his chest as it was revealed.

Rivers halted her and she quickly took her gown off.

He sat her on the edge of the bed, undid her boots and rolled her stockings down the length of her legs. She watched the movement of his body in the lamplight. His muscular shoulders gleamed as his arms moved against her, the line of dark hair on his chest drawing her fingers to it. It was soft yet strong and she sat forward and followed the pattern of it down to his waist. She pulled his belt from its place and threw it across the room, then tugged on his buttons until she freed his erection from his trousers. Her fingers encircled his hardness and slid down its length to feel the taut mobility of his balls, weighing them in her hands, awed at this thing of masculinity, flooded with strength and vigor.

“Wait,” he said, catching her chin with his hand and fixing her gaze with his. “We have plenty of time. If you want to learn, the first thing you must remember is to take your time, that way your pleasure will last longer and be more intense in its final consummation.”

“Oh,” she replied. “If I can bear it. I’ll try.” She leaned back on the bed.

He chuckled and finished his undressing of her, stripping away the layers of underwear. He stood back briefly to look at the line of her body on the bed. His manhood twitched with eagerness for her and she blossomed again, one arm stretched out to him.

“Yes, my eager one, yes.” He came to her, lying alongside her. “Now, let us begin to explore this passion of yours.” He moved his lips over the base of her neck – tantalizing her – then lower, to her breasts.

“Ours, it’s a passion of ours.” She gasped as he rolled her breasts in his hand as he sucked deeply at her taut nipples. “I feel this way only with you.”

He lifted his head and smiled at her. “The passion is here, inside you.” His hand closed over her mound. “I’m only helping you to harness it, Eleanor, it is yours to enjoy whenever you wish.”

She shook her head, her hair tumbling against the pillow. She couldn’t speak for his lips moved down across her belly and lower. Her breath caught as his tongue explored her intimate parts,

“No, you can’t,” she uttered, a surge of embarrassment taking her as she realized the places he was exploring with his mouth.

“I can and I will, and believe me, you will enjoy every moment of it, as will I – you taste as sweet as honey my little wanton, you are wet and ready for lovemaking.”

Eleanor writhed on the bed, waves of pleasure and shame colliding inside her. His breath was hot and close against her trembling, sensitive flesh. The he kissed her there, long, slow and seductive, teasing her most sensitive places with his tongue.

She lost sight of the room, the physical experience taking over her senses completely. Her hands flew across his back, nails drawing across him as he darted his tongue inside her. He flexed his back slightly at their sharp touch, for it inflamed him even more. He pulled back and climbed over her opening thighs, seeking the entrance of her. Rising up on his arms, his body looming over her, he paused briefly to look at the need in her face. Her eyes were bright and feverish and her thighs drew up around his flanks.

“Rivers,” she moaned, a plea in her voice, hands clutching at him when his hardness nudged her open. With one strong thrust he entered her, drawing the cry that confirmed her both captor and prey.

It was different this time, without fear or caution, and she rode the wave of passion bravely. He thrust deep and fast, as if reaching for each embrace on his shaft. Needful, she reached for his hips, pulling him harder against her, a pant freeing from her throat each time their movements met.

“Bend your knees higher at my sides,” he whispered, between thrusts.

She did as he said, and became aware of how well her body molded to his, and how each stride he took reverberated through her.

Their movements grew fevered and he ground his hips into her. Every ounce of her most intimate places was being pleasured by the weight and thrust of his body. An immense wave came over her, a hot tide of pleasure drowning her, causing her to jolt and quiver from deep between her thighs to the top of her head.

“Eleanor,” he groaned, slowing his moves, his head hanging down, hair brushing against her skin.

She drew herself back into the moment, looked up into his intense black eyes and saw the power leave them only to surge up within her enclosing flesh.

Blasphemy crossed his lips as he hauled out and spilled his seed on the linen sheets. She cried out, clutching onto his body. He lay across her, breathing hard and murmuring incoherent words against her ear. She ran her eager hands over his back and hips and around his hard tight buttocks, enjoying the feel of his hard muscular body. He raised his head up and looked at her then, his hands spreading her raven hair across the pillows.

“You caused me to rush,” he whispered against her ear, as she lay back on the bed, breath scratching back into her lungs. “I haven’t finished with you yet.”

He rolled to one side and his hands slipped across the damp skin of her body. He reached down to her open legs, touched her still quivering loins, and thrust two fingers inside her. She cried out and her knees came up, thighs resting against the muscle of his arm. He laughed and rocked his fingers inside her, his thumb sliding up to her love bud.

“You are such a sensual woman,” he whispered, as if to himself.

Her sleek inner flesh quivered and contracted against his fingers as he teased it with his touch. He stroked his thumb lightly across her tender, inflamed love bud, drawing a moan from her. He watched her with appreciative eyes and she gasped and whimpered under the lightest of touches. He caressed the soft folds of her sex, while his thumb found its rhythm, circling her raised love bud. Each deliberate movement released a blissful pang of pleasure that sparkled though her groin. A pool of heat descended on her suddenly, a blissful release. She draped herself across his shoulder, locking her thighs on his arm still and rocked herself back and forth until the heat had died away. She wilted against him and he rolled her into the bed for rest.

He kissed her until her lips were bruised and swollen and still she hungered for more. He held her against his strong body as the night passed they explored each other with gentle, inquisitive fingers and made love over and again.

“You will be at home in Napa,” he told her, as they opened to one another, tentatively, in the wake of long awaited and passionate lovemaking.

“What do you mean?”

He smiled at her, his fingers gently stroking the outline of her breasts.

“Napa means “the land of plenty” in the native tongue, and travelers come upon it after traveling through the desert plains and the mountains. For the first travelers it must have been akin to finding a magical font in the desert. Exceptional, just as you are.”

His words flowed through her mind, and body. “You flatter me, Rivers, but you also make me eager to reach my destination. I believe that is your real goal.”

He laughed softly, eyes twinkling.

She responded instinctively, her mouth reaching for an open kiss. His fingers closed on her nipple as their mouths touched and their tongues entwined. He drew his body over hers once again.

She was powerless to resist his charming words and his physical prowess. The effect he had on her body was astonishing to her, and she lay languid in his arms as he teased her skin with tickling kisses, keeping her trembling with pleasure while he nestled her close under the covers.

He glanced toward the window. “Dawn has arrived.”

“Oh.” The sky had lifted to a pale grey. “We missed it.”

“It’s easy to miss it in a big city, especially if you are distracted, as I was.” He smiled at her. “You’ll bear witness when you are out in the wilds.” He rose from the bed and quickly dressed. “I must leave, before the house awakens.”

She thought about his words as she watched him dress, a curious sense of regret making itself known to her heart.

“Aren’t you going to try to convince me to be escorted, once again?” she asked, provocatively, when he leaned down to kiss her goodbye.

“No.” A furrow appeared on his brow as he looked at her. He seemed about to say something else, then kissed her long and deep instead. “May I call on you to take you riding next week?”

“Oh yes, please do.”

He smiled, as if he’d known how much she’d missed riding while she was aboard ship, and kissed her once more.

Eleanor tried to ignore the feeling of loneliness in the bed when he was gone.

Instead she thought about riding and about watching the sunrise in the wilds. How good it had sounded. She wanted to learn something of New York but she was also eager to be on her way once the weather bean to turn. A question tiptoed gently through her thoughts – would she be traveling alone, or with a companion? She nestled down into the pillows, where his scent lingered, and smiled as she slipped into her dreams.

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