Nan Ryan (36 page)

He stood for a moment, the coffee pot poised over the cup. A slow, wicked smile started at the corners of his mouth. Slowly, he set the pot back down on the tray and said, “I’m not either and you know what else? Old Hannah is right, it is really a beautiful day.” he slipped back into bed, moved close to his wife, and pressed his mouth to the soft flesh of her warm throat while she sighed lazily and her arms came around his back.

The breakfast tray sat untouched on the table, growing cold in the damp, sweet air.

Twenty-five

Young Scott pounded on the locked door, “Daddy, are you in there? Daddy, where are you?”

Hunter, half dozing with Kathleen asleep in his arms, opened his drowsy brown eyes when he heard his son’s voice. “Yes, Scott, just a minute, I’ll be right out.”

Kathleen moaned and opened her eyes, “What is it, Hunter?”

Hunter smiled at her and whispered, “It’s our son, I’m afraid we almost forgot we had one and he doesn’t like it.”

“Oh, Hunter, that’s right, it must be mid-morning by now. I’m sure he’s confused and doesn’t know what to think. Any day you stay home from the office he thinks belongs to him. You’ve spoiled him, Hunter,” but she smiled and touched his lips.

“I know,” he said, grinning, “just as I intend to spoil you from now on.”

“Darling,” Kathleen whispered and leaned up to kiss the lips she fingered.

“Sweetheart,” Hunter breathed against her mouth, “Scott’s right outside the door.”

“He will just have to wait his turn,” she laughed and kissed him again.

“That’s it!” Hunter laughed, “I either leave now or I won’t be able to,” and he bounded off the bed and pulled on his trousers. Kathleen watched her husband from the bed. He was lean and hard, his body delicately muscled, his back smooth and beautiful. The thick blond hair was disheveled, there was a smile on his full, perfect mouth, and the dreamy brown eyes held a happy, satisfied look she’d never seen there before. “Hunter, have I ever told you I think you’re a beautiful man from head to toe?”

“Honey,” he said smiling as he walked to the bed, “men aren’t supposed to be beautiful. Couldn’t I just be nice-looking?” and he sat on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes.

Kathleen moved up beside him and gently caressed his bare back. Her hands went to his shoulders and softly worked their way down to his trim waist. “You’re more than that, my love, you are beautiful in a manly, Adonislike way,” and her lips went to the smooth skin and moved sensuously down the cleft of his back.

Hunter jumped off the bed laughing, “I love our son, but right now I’d like to wring his demanding little neck,” then he bent over the bed, put his hand to her hair, and said, “Darling, you stay in bed a while. Get some sleep while I play with Scotty. I’ll come back in an hour and wake you, we’re having luncheon guests, I’m afraid, so you’ll need some time to get ready.” He kissed her quickly and turned to get a shirt, slipped it hastily on, and went to the door to greet his son. “Hi, Scott, what are you up to?” he said, lifting the tiny dark child up into his arms.

Kathleen stayed in Hunter’s bed, yawning and stretching. The sun was beginning to come from under the clouds and stream into the big room. Kathleen smiled with pleasure and snuggled back down into the softness of the pillows. The wild, passion-filled night had been exciting, almost scary. But the sweet, love-filled morning had been even better as her husband proved to be an expert, caring lover, concerned and delighted with her pleasure, brining her to ecstasy with his tenderness and patience. Kathleen closed her eyes tightly, “Hunter, Hunter,” she said his name, remembering. Happy and content, she curled up, her knees to her chin and went back to sleep, still feeling her husband’s gentle caresses on her glowing skin.

“Daddy, I couldn’t find you and I was scared,” Scotty said as Hunter carried him through the long hall and down the stairs.

“Scott, I’ve been right there in my room all morning.” He kissed the boy’s cheek.

“I looked for you all over, but Hannah wouldn’t let me come upstairs. Don’t you think she’s mean?”

“No, I think she is very nice and you shouldn’t say things like that, Scotty. Hannah loves you and takes good care of you and Mommy, you know that.”

“Daddy, is Mommy in your room, too?”

“Yes, she is, darling,” Hunter smiled happily.

“Why? She’s supposed to be in her room, but I looked and she wasn’t there.”

“Scott, from now on your mother and I will be in the same room every night.”

“Why, Daddy?”

“Because, darling, we want to be together.”

“Daddy,” the child said and took Hunter’s face in his hands, “You wouldn’t ever leave me, would you?”

“Sweetheart,” Hunter looked down at the tiny face, the penetrating brown eyes, “Why on earth would you ask me a question like that? You know I would never, ever leave you or your mommy.”

“Good, Daddy,” the child smiled and hugged him tightly, “I was just scared when I couldn’t find you.”

Hunter kissed the brown forehead and said, “Scott, I love you so much and I promise I will always be here. Now, why don’t we go out back and throw the ball around for a while?”

“Oh, goody,” Scott said as Hunter set him on his feet. Together they walked out the back door and into the big yard. Scott ran immediately to hunt for the elusive ball. Finding it at last in a flower bed of early blooming roses, he shouted happily, “Here it is, I remember that’s where I put it last time.”

“Sure you do,” his father laughed and raised his hands saying, “Put’er here!”

Scott tossed the ball to Hunter, but by the time it reached him it was down around his knees. He stooped in time and scooped it off the ground. “Scott, I’ve told you, you will never throw better if you don’t quit trying to use your left hand,” and he easily threw the ball back to the boy.

“Daddy, I want to throw it the way you do. You use your left hand, I want to throw with mine,” and he tossed another with the same results.

This one missed Hunter and instead of going to retrieve the badly-thrown ball, he walked to his son and got on his knees beside him. “Scott, he said, bringing a hand up to rest on the boy’s middle, “we have been over this so many times. I am left-handed, you are right-handed. Now you’re being obstinate when you keep trying to change, it just won’t work and you must face it.”

Clearly disappointed, Scott turned hurt eyes up to his father and said, “Daddy, it’s just that I want to be like you.”

Hunter ruffled Scott’s thick dark hair and smiled, “I know, Scotty, and that pleases me more than you’ll ever know, but darling, you must be like yourself, no one else. When I get the ball, I want you to throw with your right hand and see how it works out, all right?”

“Yes, Daddy, but what it obstinate?”

Hunter laughed and rose to his feet, “Stubborn,” he said laughing, “just like me,” and went to get the ball.

Scott threw the ball with his right hand and found it was much easier to hit the spot he was aiming for. “Hey, this is better,” he laughed happily and his father said, “It’s great, son, better than I can do.”

*   *   *  

Hunter came back to his room after an hour spent with his energetic son. He opened the door quietly and looked at Kathleen. She was sleeping soundly, a slim arm tossed up over her head. Hunter smiled and tiptoed to the bed. He carefully sat on its edge and leaned over her. His heart raced at the sight of his beautiful wife sleeping in his bed. Her hair lay fanned out on the pillow, one long strand across her pale cheek. The sheet just covered the bottoms of her full breast and one slim leg was outside the sheet, exposing the satiny smoothness of her thigh. She was absolutely breathtaking and she was his. His face flushed with the recollection of the stormy night together. He had no idea his wife was capable of such wanton passion and it had excited him beyond all reason. And then this morning, that had been sweeter still, as she lay in his arms and let him caress and worship her until he got his fill. Hating to wake her, but knowing he must, he slowly bent and kissed her lips.

Kathleen’s eyes came open lazily and she put her arms around her husband’s neck and smiled, “Could you arrange to wake me up that way every day for the rest of our lives?”

“I can think of nothing I’d like better.” He kissed her again. Her lips parted under his and he responded, his mouth eagerly probing hers. His arms went around her and he pulled her up to him until they were both in a sitting position on the big feather bed. When she pulled away at last, she put her lips to his ear and whispered, “I love you, Hunter Alexander. Do you love me?”

“Oh, darling,” he said and his lips moved to her shoulder, “you will never know how much I love you.”

“Show me,” she teased, looking down at the blond head covering her bare shoulder with fiery kisses.

Hunter straightened reluctantly, “Darling, I can’t. There isn’t time, but I brought you a surprise,” and he rose and walked across the room to where he’d left the long-stemmed red rose from the garden. Putting it behind his back, he came to the bed grinning, sat down, and held it out to her.

“Oh, Hunter, it’s beautiful. Thank you, darling,” she smiled and took the rose and smelled it.

“Now, my beautiful love, you must get up and go to your own room. I told you we are having guests for lunch, remember?”

“Hunter, I wish they weren’t coming,” she said, fingering the long stem of the rose. “Who is it anyway?”

“Our English cotton agent, Richard Craddock, is coming to collect. It’s that time, I’m afraid.” Hunter paused, looked at Kathleen still smelling the rose and smiling. He took a deep breath and continued, “He’s bringing his partner with him, dear. Dawson Blakely.”

Without looking at Hunter, the smile left Kathleen’s face and the fingers holding the stem of the rose tightened automatically. She made a face as the thorny stem pricked her finger, drawing blood.

Never taking his eyes from hers, Hunter reached out and took the rose from her. He threw it to the floor, lifted her finger to his mouth, and gently, lovingly sucked the bright red blood from it. He lowered the finger at last and still holding her hand said softly, “I love you, Kathleen Alexander, very, very much. I know you love me and nothing else matters, nothing and no one,” and he put his arms around her.

“Hunter, Hunter,” she said and threw her arms around him, holding as tightly as she could, “I do love you, my darling, I do.”

“I know,” he said and they sat quietly in an embrace while he stroked her hair and her back and whispered, “There’s only you and me, Kathleen, just us.” When Hunter knew his wife was completely calm and over her fear, he pulled back and said, smiling, “Now, I suggest you go wash that finger and put some alcohol on it. And please, don’t ever tell anyone how I treated it. They would take my license away.”

“I loved the way you treated it, darling,” she laughed and rose from the bed. “Hunter, I just thought of something terrible.”

“What?” Hunter said, alarmed, and put his hands around her waist.

“I don’t have any clothes in here. How am I going to get to my room?”

Hunter laughed and pulled her to him, “I wish we never had anything more troublesome than that to worry about.”

“That may well be true, but it is a problem to me. What shall I do?”

Hunter released her and walked to his closet, taking down his black silk robe, “Madam, I will loan this to you if you promise to return it,” he held it out to her.

Kathleen turned, slipped her arms inside, and tied it tightly at her waist, “Never, I like it, I intend to keep it,” and she turned back to face him.

Hunter smiled and pulled the lapels together up to her chin, “You know what? You look so cute in it I’ve decided to let you have it. Now, go, darling, it’s time to get dressed.”

The black silk robe reaching almost to the floor, the sleeves hanging down over her hands, Kathleen put her arms around his neck and said, “I’m going, just one last kiss and I’m off. Tonight, Doctor Hunter Alexander, you may have the pleasure of seeing me in your robe again. It’s comfortable, I may never wear anything else.”

Hunter laughed and watched her slip out the door, then turned and started dressing for their guests.

When Kathleen came down the stairs, the guests had already arrived. Hunter sat in the drawing room with Craddock and Dawson. She heard their voices and stopped on the stairs for a moment before coming in to join them. She heard Dawson’s deep voice, “I agree with you, Doctor Alexander, a lot of the land in Mississippi is wearing out, many plantations are already only half as productive as they once were, mine included. But I’m sorry to hear that Sans Souci is experiencing problems. The flush times are coming to an end, I’m afraid.”

“Thanks for your concern, Mister Blakely, but to tell the truth, I’m not all that worried. It was inevitable, I saw it coming, and besides I’ve been trying to have legislation passed to free all the slaves here. I believe you did the same thing years ago.”

“Yes, I did, but they all stayed with me as paid employees. Richard, you see, I’m not the only one in the south who doesn’t believe in slavery.” He looked at Craddock and smiled, then turned back to Hunter. His eyes moved suddenly to the doorway.

Hunter followed Dawson’s gaze. Kathleen stood in the door, looking lovely and fresh in a spring dress of the palest pink. She was smiling and Hunter rose when he saw her and walked to her, “How lovely you look, dear. Come in and say hello to our guests,” he put his arm around her waist and led her into the room.

“Dear, this is Richard Craddock, you met him at my birthday party, remember?”

“Yes, of course. So nice to see you again, Mister Craddock. Please, sit back down.”

“A pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Alexander,” and he bowed slightly.

They turned to Dawson, “I think you’re acquainted with this gentleman.”

“How are you, Mister Blakely?” she smiled and extended her hand.

“I couldn’t be better, my dear,” he bent and kissed her hand. “So nice to see you again.”

“Thank you,” she said and moved to the couch with Hunter where they both sat down.

At lunch, the conversation once again turned to slavery and the turmoil between the north and the south. Kathleen was glad no one seemed to expect her to say very much. And she was more than grateful to Dawson for considerately not staring at her all the time as she had been afraid he would. He looked her way hardly at all, seemed not to notice she was there and Kathleen began to relax, deciding Dawson had finally gotten over her. She was happy he had. She loved Hunter and wanted no trouble and she didn’t want Dawson hurt and still caring for her. It had all worked out at last. She looked at the two men engaged in spirited conversation. Dawson, so dark and big, handsome as ever, self-assured, his resonant voice lifted as he made his point. Hunter, slim and blond, placid and understanding, his long delicate fingers curled around his wine glass, his brown eyes intent as he listened with interest to what Dawson was saying.