Nan Ryan (10 page)

When the kiss ended, Kathleen’s eyes were closed and her lips were swollen, her face hot. Dawson took her limp arms from around his neck and placed them beside her. Snuggling down into the softness of the bed, Kathleen smiled and opened her eyes just as he bent his head to her breasts. She made no move to stop him when his lips went to a rosy peak. She sighed her approval and Dawson opened his mouth and began gently to suck. He ran his tongue around the circle of it and raked his teeth over it, taking care not to hurt her. Kathleen’s eyes widened and she swallowed and arched her back as new and wonderful sensations shot through her and incredible heat engulfed her.

“Dawson,” she gasped in amazement and twisted her hand in his hair. “Dawson,” she moaned, as she licked her lips and clutched at the bed with her free hand. Dawson didn’t raise his head; he continued to draw the erect sweetness into his mouth while his dark eyes closed with passion and his kisses became greedy as he tried to inhale all her delicious warmth.

For a long, long time, Dawson did nothing more than kiss her mouth and her breasts. When finally she was writhing on the bed, her rounded hips beginning to move seductively under the sheet covering her and her blue eyes glazed over with passion, Dawson peeled the sheet down from her stomach and thighs, whispering endearments to her throughout. The sheet was at her knees; he stopped and let his hand go to the flatness of her gleaming stomach. His long fingers raked over her and she trembled at his touch. Still wearing his tight trousers, Dawson stretched out beside her and again was kissing her, while his hand stayed on her stomach, caressing, tickling, arousing.

His drugging kisses continued and Kathleen was lost in them, in the strange new waves of feeling rippling through her hot body. Dawson’s hand had moved down to her hip and then slid to her thigh. Slowly, he let it go up to the warm inside, caressing, gently touching. Kathleen moaned and tightened her arms around his neck.

“Dawson,” she cried against his lips, “Oh, Dawson …”

Moving his mouth to the softness just under her ear, he pressed burning kisses there and murmured, “Let me love you, darling. Relax here in my arms and enjoy it.”

“I can’t … I don’t know … I …”

“Yes, you can, I’ll teach you. I’ll help you, Kathleen. Trust me, sweet.”

He continued to stroke and caress her until her small body was burning and her throat was dry, her eyes wild. She clung to him and moved her hips sensuously against his loving hand, longing to be closer, wanting more, straining against him, no longer frightened. She wanted him, she wanted all the love he could give her, she wanted the heated pleasure of his hands, mouth, and body. She wanted him to possess her completely, to make her his own, to become a part of her.

While his lips roamed restlessly over her warm, beautiful face, Dawson reached down to the buttons of his trousers, quickly flicking them open. With the grace of an animal, he was off the bed, freeing his painfully aroused body from its confines. The trousers on the floor, Dawson stood above Kathleen and felt a groan starting deep inside his broad chest.

Kathleen’s eyes opened just a slit and she looked up at him. Her gaze slid over his powerful, fully aroused brown body. Her hand raised to him and she murmured excitedly, “Love me, darling.”

The groan inside him surfaced and Dawson fell on the bed beside her and gathered her into his arms. The touch of her sweet, bare body pressed to the naked length of his made his heart pound anew and he was momentarily terrified that he could wait not one second longer. At that instant, Kathleen kissed his chin and whispered again, “Love me, Dawson. Please, please love me.”

Gently placing her on her back, Dawson parted her legs with his knee and shifted his weight partially onto her. Looking deep into her trusting eyes, he whispered, “I love you, Kathleen, more than life itself. I will love you until the day I die.”

“I love you, Dawson,” she whispered. “I will never love another.”

Smoothing an errant lock of blond hair from her cheek, he said huskily, “Kathleen, it will hurt this one time. I’m sorry, darling. You know I never want to hurt you.” He moved atop her, his face above hers, so close he could feel her warm, sweet breath. He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her passionately, lovingly, deeply. When he raised his head, she was radiant, flushed, inflamed. While her tiny hands clung tightly to his broad shoulders, she whispered breathlessly, “I love you, I love you.” Dawson thrust into her, his dark eyes full of love and concern for the innocent young girl whose soft, pliant body had never known a man. When she cried out in pain, Dawson’s love for her soared and he kissed her and murmured soothingly, “My darling, I’m sorry, so sorry.”

Tears coursed down her cheeks from the white hot pain tearing at her insides, but Kathleen tightened her arms around Dawson’s neck and when she felt his warm mouth on her cheeks, tenderly kissing away her tears, she breathed softly, “Dawson, my love.”

Held tightly in his embrace, the pain subsided and soon Kathleen’s pleasure was not only recaptured, it was more intense than before, as Dawson kissed her mouth, her neck, her throat. He slowly began to move within her. Her innate sensuality made Kathleen’s hips move with his, bringing so much heightened pleasure to Dawson that he had to bite the inside of his jaw to distract himself lest he come to the pinnacle of passion immediately. Eyes smarting from self-inflicted pain, his lean, hard body ground against the sweet softness of hers and his mouth dipped to hers, searing her lips with flaming heat.

Wave upon wave of wild, new pleasure rippled through Kathleen’s aching, anxious body as she pulled Dawson frantically to her. She could feel a tenseness building deep inside, radiating heat, graduating in intensity, screaming for release.

Dawson’s lithe frame moved more rapidly as he speeded the pace and his deep voice urged her to cast off inhibitions, to yield to desire, to abandon all restraint.

She began to moan in uncontrollable passion as she quivered beneath him and started the assent to the summit. Dawson lovingly guided her to the top and when the frightening, glorious, earthshaking release claimed her with such turbulent tremors that her eyes flew open in surprise, Dawson kissed her dry, trembling lips and her climax became his own. He moaned in unbelievable elation, as physical pleasure combined with spiritual. His satisfaction was just as new and frightening as it was to the sweet young girl clinging to him, because for the first time in his life, Dawson was in the arms of a woman he truly loved.

When the last tiny tremors finally stopped and Kathleen let her tired arms fall away from him, Dawson moved to her side and gathered her limp, damp body close to his. Kissing her softy, he whispered, “I never knew such bliss existed.”

“Nor I,” she murmured and trustingly laid her head on his broad chest. Dawson stroked the long, tousled hair, pushing it from her face, kissing the crown of her head. He sighed and held her close, fitting her small soft body to the length of his. For a short, happy time they lay in silence, the only sound that of their breathing as their pulses began to slow to normal and their respiration became regular once again.

Refusing to think past the moment at hand, Dawson wanted nothing more than to lay with Kathleen encircled in his arms while the boat underneath them gently swayed and rolled in the smooth water of the port. For just a while longer, he wanted to be closeted here in the warmth with his precious love while the storm outside heightened, turning the world cold and frigid. He wanted only a few more minutes to hold her, to let his eyes roam at will over the pale, satiny body, so fair and white contrasted with the darkness of his. He knew deep inside that he must carefully memorize every tempting curve, every silky inch of the beautiful body laying against his that had given him such pleasure. He slowly ran his hand over her, gently caressing the full, high breasts, the slim, small waist, the flat, velvety stomach, the long, slender legs. His chest began to ache dully and he knew that the happiness would soon end; he couldn’t hold back time.

“When Dawson?” Kathleen said softly.

“When what?”

“When will we be married? I don’t want to wait, do you? Let’s get married tonight.” Kathleen lay with her head on Dawson’s chest, his arms around her. She felt his body stiffen and slowly he took his arms from around her, gently pushing her away. Raising himself up, he put a pillow against the headboard of the bed and leaned back. “Dawson, what’s wrong? What is it?”

“Kathleen, this doesn’t change anything.”

“You can’t mean that, Dawson, you …”

“I mean it. I’m going away,” and he looked away from her toward the porthole.

She sat up and said, “Dawson, you can’t, you love me, I …”

He looked back to her and said steadily, “No, I don’t love you and I’m leaving.” Kathleen watched his lips moving, knew he must be talking, but it was impossible to comprehend what he was saying. The words seemed to be coming from far away, like someone shouting against the ocean’s breakers. There was a loud roaring in her head and his voice could hardly be heard above it. She shook her head trying to stop the awful roaring so she could hear him. “I’m leaving tonight, just as I told you before.”

All at once, she was pounding on his chest and screaming. Dawson tried to stop the flailing fists, but her fevered frenzy made her hands move so rapidly he was almost helpless against the barrage. “Liar, liar,” she screamed and beat on him, tears streaming down her face, her eyes as wild as an animal’s. “I hate you, I
hate
you! It can’t be true, you love me. You told me you did. Told me you worship me. Say you’re lying!”

Dawson was finally able to grip the flying fists and subdue her. He pulled her down, still struggling, trying to jerk away, pulling with all her strength. He held her arms pinned behind her back, breathing heavy from exertion. After several wild minutes, her strength ebbed away and she collapsed against him, unable to fight any longer. She lay on his chest, her hair falling over her face and onto his body, her eyes red and anguished, her tears wetting his chest. So weak she could no longer move against him, Dawson slowly released her arms. They fell limply from her back, lifeless. She lay on him staring with unseeing eyes, the tears drying up. He lay completely still under her, not moving or speaking, not offering any words of comfort. They both lay not moving a muscle for the next half hour, suspended between saneness and insanity.

Slowly, Kathleen raised up and wearily got off the bed. Like a sleepwalker, she went to her clothes and began dressing while Dawson’s dark eyes followed her. Still he remained silent. The blue velvet skirt and white lace blouse back on at last, she walked to the couch and picked up her cape. She put it around her shoulders and tied it under her chin and walked to the door. With her hand on the doorknob, she turned back to look at Dawson. He had not moved and was looking directly at her. She studied the face she loved so much, the dark, sultry eyes, the black mustache above the full lips. Then her eyes dropped to the brown, lean body and she felt her heart breaking.

“I do not know you, never knew you,” she said softly, “you no longer exist.” Then her anger rose suddenly and she raised her voice slightly, “I shall hate you to the grave and beyond.” She went out the door and Dawson heard her tiny feet going down the gangplank to her carriage.

Slowly, Dawson got up and pulled on his black trousers. He went to the desk and pulled out the middle drawer. He took out a small blue velvet box and popped it open. He took out the diamond engagement ring and held it tightly in his palm. He opened the cabin door and went up the steps.

“Cap’n Dawson,” Sam came hurrying down the companionway, “Is you okay? I hear Miz Kathleen scream and then she run out crying and …”

“Get out of my way,” Dawson shoved the concerned black man.

“But, Cap’n Dawson, you’ll freeze out here with no clothes, why you is barefooted.…”

Dawson paid no attention, walked to the front of the hurricane deck, shouting over his shoulder, “Fire her up, let’s get out of here.”

Dawson reached the railing in time to see Kathleen’s carriage just before it pulled out of sight. She turned to look up, saw him, and jerked the blond head around instantly. But he saw her hands come up to her face and the head bow down and he knew she was crying.

Dawson stood gripping the railing in the exact spot where he’d stood with her the first night he brought her to his boat. The night air was freezing now, but he was not aware of it. A few snow flakes were falling, sprinkling his dark head with white crystals, but he didn’t notice. The boat was now slowly gliding through the water, heading for the river, but Dawson didn’t know they were in motion.

He was aware of only one thing. After tonight, he loved Kathleen Diana Beauregard more than ever and he was never going to see her again. With eyes as dead as his dreams, he looked straight down. Slowly, his hand went out over the railing and his fist opened. He looked down at the engagement ring he’d bought for her. The diamond was as black and lifeless as his heart, for there was no light left for it to reflect off of. He spread his fingers and let the ring drop into the icy waters of the Mississippi. It was over. Everything was over.

Dawson Harpe Blakely clung to the railing, trembling, but not from the cold. While the
Diana Mine
gently sliced through the water, he lowered his dark, weary head. And he cried.

Seven

At Sans Souci, Louis paced the floor. He had been since ten o’clock. It was well after midnight and Kathleen had not returned from her meeting with Dawson Blakely. Her father had been expecting her since before nine and his mind raced with every conceivable bad thing that could have happened to keep her away. Had Dawson told Kathleen about their talk? Surely not, the man was no fool and he knew he meant every word that he had said. He wouldn’t dare disclose to Kathleen what had really happened. So why wasn’t Kathleen home?

Had Dawson Blakely said nothing of the meeting, but stupidly talked Kathleen into going away with him? “If that has happened, I’ll trace him to the ends of the earth. He couldn’t get far enough away that I wouldn’t find him. And I’ll kill him the minute I capture him.” That couldn’t be it. Maybe she never found Dawson, maybe he had already gone by the time she got to the boat. But if so, where had she been all this time? Where was she now? Louis poured himself a bourbon and walked to the fireplace. He turned up the glass, then looked down into the fire. “Oh how she would hate me if she knew what I’ve done. She loves that flashy, worthless scum, though how she could I don’t understand. I thought she would get over him after a few months, but instead she grew more fond of him. And Dawson Blakely is clearly in love with her.” Louis shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, I did the right thing. I did it for her because I love her and I’m glad I did. The man is beneath her, not fit to come into this house, much less marry her. It would never have worked; she will see that someday. Someone deserving of her will come along and she’ll forget she ever knew Dawson Blakely and he can sink back into the slime he came from. And I won’t have to look at grandchildren that have Harpe blood running through their veins.” The thought made him shudder.