Perfect in My Sight (26 page)

The thought gave her a twinge of jealousy.

She didn
’
t wish to think of him with anyone else.

And then suddenly she was wholly bared beneath his scrutiny, and was keenly aware
that he was not. Without warning, he slid down to nibble at her bottom, and Sarah
bit her lip as he moved lower still to taste her so wickedly.

She clawed desperately at the bedclothes.

God, but he was a wicked man!

And Lord help her, she loved all that he was doing to her.

She reve
led in every touch of his hands
... every ca
ress of his mouth upon her body
...

“
Turn around,
”
he whispered, and Sarah
’
s heart lurched a little at the command.

The notion of lying there fully exposed to him both terrified and thrilled her at
once. She did as she was told, couldn
’
t seem to help herself. With merely the sound of his voice, he did things to her...
to her mind, body, and soul.

Her heart beat fiercely as she turned around and her breath caught at the hunger evident
in his eyes. Cool air caressed her breasts, while his eyes, like smoldering blue flames,
bore down on her, inspecting her, warming her as no fire ever could.

A slow smile turned his lips as he reached down and began to undo the buttons of his
trousers.

Her heart jolted a little harder, and she held her breath as she watched him bare
himself to her, not daring even to blink.

Peeling open his trousers, he pulled them down, shrugged out of them as she watched,
and then his drawers followed, until he stood before her as naked as Adam.

God, but he was a beautiful man—his body perfectly formed, from his wide shoulders
to his chest and narrow waist.

He fell to his knees, and Sarah thought she would die with anticipation of his touch.
She knew, from the things he had done to her the first time, what he intended, and
her body quivered at the mere thought.

Heat began to coil deep within her, a delicious thread that ignited at the promise
of his kisses.

It was wicked, what he craved
... wicked, what she wanted.

Peering down between her bared breasts, she watched him open his mouth, felt his lips
upon her, and her head fell backward in surrender as he made love to her with his
mouth.

Sarah had never dreamed she
could crave his touch so deeply
... Somewhere at her core, she ached for him to fill her, touch her deep into her
very womb!

She loved him—God, but she loved him!

Forgive me, Mary, she thought, and if she spoke the plea aloud, Peter ruthlessly ignored
it.

Thank God!
Because if he dared to stop now
... if he walked away this instant, Sarah thought she would weep.

She needed him to fill her...
needed him to make love to her...
needed him to need her...

She needed him to love her.

CHAPTER
28

He hadn’t meant to say it.

The words had slipped from his tongue, but entirely too easily, and damn it all, he
didn’t wish to recall them!

He did love her.

And he wanted more than life to please her.

More than anything, he wanted that.

For the first time in his life, this wasn’t about his own pleasure. It was about hers.

He wanted to sink into her, feel her wrapped about him, hold her face in his hands
and kiss her lips until she moaned sweetly into his mouth. He wanted to taste the
sweet elixir of her passion... wanted to feel her body tremble beneath him.

He wanted to pleasure her until she cried out his name.

More than anything, he wanted to hear her whisper I love you, though he knew it was
more than he could ask.

He would be content just to hear her cry out in pleasure.

He reveled in the taste of her, lost himself in the throes of her passion, and tore
himself away only when the throb of his own body grew insistent and painful. He drew
himself up then, looking down at her as she lay on the bed.

Her eyes had been closed, but she opened them now and peered up at him. They were
glazed with desire. Her skin was flushed deep rose, her lips bruised from his kisses.
And he had the sudden primeval thought that he would kill any man who dared touch
her this way.

He bent forward, pinned her between his arms, and took her mouth with a ferocity he
hadn’t realized he could possess.

Sarah closed her eyes, reveling in the taste of him. He pressed her once more into
the bed, and her body cried out in impatience. She shuddered at the feel of him so
hard against her softness and shifted her hips to seek him. She didn’t wait for him
to enter her, didn’t care that it seemed bold. Reaching with total abandon, she gripped
his buttocks in her hands and thrust forward, drawing him so deeply into her that
she felt him surge to the hilt. He cried out and the sound of it set Sarah’s body
on fire.

He began to move, and it was the most delicious sensation she had ever imagined.

“Peter,” she cried out softly, but she couldn’t think any longer.

His arms encircled her, embracing her, while his lips and tongue caressed her face,
her lips, her eyes, her nose...

She wanted to be with him always...

Wanted him never to stop.

She dared to open her heart.

“I love you, Sarah,” he whispered once more, and her body exploded with pleasure.
Sarah had never known such bliss existed. He cried out as she shuddered beneath him,
and he lunged forward just once more. “I love you,” he whispered, and found his own
release, filling her, trembling as he held her.

Sarah clung to him, and never wanted to let go.

She clutched his head to her and dared to whisper against his ear.

“I love you, too.”

And she smiled as he sighed against her throat.

Sarah hardly slept all night.

Impossible to sleep with all that she had yet to contemplate.

She and Peter had not left his room even for the evening meal. They’d made love yet
again, and then had crawled under the covers to sleep. But lying next to him, Sarah
could scarcely even close her eyes.

He made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t ever known—every breath, every heartbeat
magnified, every pore of her skin yearning for his touch.

It was impossible to deny this feeling that overwhelmed her.

Sarah thought she would die if she couldn’t wake in his arms every morning for the
rest of her life.

And yet... Mary had once felt the very same... and for this very man.

How could Sarah awake each morn and look into his eyes, and know that she had disapproved
of him for her cousin—and in the strongest manner possible?

It was because of him that she and Mary had not spoken ever again.

No, she amended to herself... it was because of her.

It had been her own insecurities that had driven them apart. She had been terrified
of losing her best friend—so terrified that she had pushed her away.

What sense did that make?

And now was she doing it again?

Was she so afraid of losing someone else in her life that she wasn’t even willing
to let him in?

Was she simply using her guilt as a shield to keep him at bay?

She had so much to think about.

Peering over at Peter, she saw he was still asleep, his expression peaceful in slumber,
and she wanted to touch her hand to his cheek, but didn’t dare.

Carefully extricating herself from his embrace, she slipped out of bed and quickly
dressed, pondering the man she had grown to love.

He never seemed to bat a lash at her fits of fury. He faced her with calm resolve,
and knowing him now, she wondered that anyone could ever think him capable of harming
another human being. It only took a single look at him and Christopher together to
know for certain that deep down he was a gentle man, even if at first glance he seemed
intimidating. She had never once heard him raise his voice to his son.

Needing time alone to think, she stole away from the room as quietly as she was able,
closing the door gently behind her. 

CHAPTER
29

Peter awoke with a smile on his face.

Reaching out groggily, he clasped Sarah about the waist, vaguely aware that the shape
didn
’
t quite fit, but too sleepy to open his eyes. He dragged her closer and kissed her
on the nose.

“
Yuck!
”
Christopher cried out, and Peter
’
s eyes flew wide to find his son struggling to be free of his embrace. He swiped his
face with his little hands. Peter released him and he sat on the bed.
“
Yucky!
”
he exclaimed once more.

Peter chuckled, though his gaze at once scanned the room, searching for Sarah. He
frowned when he didn
’
t find her there.

“Morning, sport.”

“
Mornin
’
, Daddy.
”

He wondered how long she
’
d been away, and where she
’
d gone.

“
What are you doing here, Christopher?
”
he asked his son.

“
The boogeyman was in my room again last night!
”

His son
’
s imagination was quite vivid and quite normal, but that was all it was, his imagination,
and Peter had yet to be able to convince him of that fact.

“
Not him again?
”

“
Yup!
”
Christopher said, nodding.

“
Christopher,
”
Peter began.

“
I swear it was, Daddy!
”

Peter glowered at his son
’
s emphatic tone. He certainly wasn
’
t about to call Christopher a liar, but neither did he think it was entirely healthy
for the child to continue to believe such things. Ever since he
’
d been able to talk and relate his fears, he
’
d been claiming visits from the boogeyman. Peter had wondered at first whether it
was some memory from infancy, because Christopher had always had the most remarkable
aptitude for remembering things—more than anyone he knew. Sometime later, however,
he
’
d discovered that Christopher had overheard the servants talking about his mother
’
s death. He hadn
’
t been happy to learn that his son knew every gruesome detail of his mother
’
s tragic end. It only stood to reason, then, that his subconscious would create this
boogeyman for him to fear.

Christopher was getting better, however. In the beginning he would wet his bed rather
than rise and go to the bathroom, because he
’
d been too terrified to let the boogeyman know he was awake. Peter probably hadn
’
t handled it the best way possible, but he hadn
’
t been certain how else to do it. He certainly hadn
’
t wished his son to be afraid of every shadow, so he
’
d forced Christopher to go to bed each night in his own bed, telling him that if he
should chance to waken, that he could run to Peter in the night, or call for help
and Peter would come. Christopher
’
s room was in shouting distance, and there was nothing wrong with his son
’
s lungs.

In the beginning Christopher had come running to his bed every night. Lately, however,
he slept more soundly, and it was only on occasion now that Peter awoke to find him
curled up beside him.

Not that it was a disappointment this
morn
, but he certainly had expected to awaken to a far different embrace.

Where had she gone?

And did he dare ask his son?

He decided it was best not to.

“
I was so scared, Daddy! But I din
’
t even cry!
”
Christopher continued excitedly.
“
He came to my bed and I din
’
t cry!
”

It was at times like this that it wasn
’
t so difficult to believe his son a child. His little old man was just a little boy,
after all, and despite his disappointment over Christopher
’
s continued nightly visitor, he smiled at that thought.

“
What happened? Did you scare him away?
”
Peter asked jovially, reaching out to pat his son
’
s head.

“
Yup!
”
he replied excitedly.
“
I did, Daddy!
”

“
Thatta boy,
”
Peter cheered him on, dropping his hand to his son
’
s shoulder.
“
And did he run away?
”

“
Nope,
”
Christopher replied, shaking his head.
“He just cried
.
”

Peter laughed at the sober expression on his son
’
s face.
“
You made him cry, did you?
”

“Yes, sir.”

“
And how did you manage to do that?
”
Peter asked him.

Christopher
’
s little face screwed.
“
Well, I dunno, but I think it was
‘
cause I told him he smelled like Aunt Ruth.
”

Peter tried hard not to chuckle. His shoulders shook, but he restrained his laughter.
“
You did?
”

“
Yes, sir.
”

“
And then he started to cry?
”

“
Uh-huh!
”

“
Maybe he won
’
t come back now,
”
Peter suggested.
“
I
’
m certain he doesn
’
t like that you think he smells like Aunt Ruth.
”

“
Maybe,
”
Christopher agreed, nodding.
“
But maybe if he does,
”
he added excitedly,
“
then I will just beat him up this time!
”

Peter couldn
’
t contain his smile at his son
’
s bravado.
“
I
’
m certain you will,
”
he told him.
“
I
’
ve never had any doubt you could.
”

Christopher beamed with pride. He smiled so widely Peter thought his face would split.
“
So now I
’
m not scared anymore, Daddy.
”

“
Good for you!
”
Peter exclaimed, and resisted the urge to tackle him and steal another hug. Christopher
seemed to be getting too big for them of late, and though it was what Peter had hoped—that
he would feel independent enough—it gave him a little twinge of regret to see his
only son growing up so swiftly.

“
How would you feel about a little brother or sister, Christopher?
”
he asked suddenly, surprising even himself with the question.

Christopher
’
s expression became animated.
“
Really, Daddy?
”

“
Really, son.
”

“
A brother! Oh, yes!
”

Peter smiled, pic
turing a house full of children
... In addition to the brother for Christopher, he saw little girls with dark hair
and blue eyes as deep as the sea and temperaments as fiery as their mother
’
s.

“
Is Miss Sarah going to be my new mommy?
”
he asked, and Peter had to catch himself from answering yes. He damned well hoped
so, but he was well aware that he couldn
’
t force her.

“I hope so.”

Christopher nodded fervently.
“
Me too, Daddy!
”

“
I
’
m glad we both agree,
”
Peter said, laughing, and reached out to pat Christopher
’
s leg.

“
Can we go ask her now?
”
Christopher pleaded at once.
“
Please, Daddy
, please
!
”

“
It
’
s not so simple as that, son,
”
Peter said, and then a wicked idea entered his head.

Perhaps it was.

Who could refuse that little face?

Who could look at his son and not feel a tug in their heart?

It wasn
’
t quite the fair thing to do, but then, as he
’
d already determined, he wasn
’
t going to play fairly.

He wasn
’
t going to lose her—not if he could help
it.

“
Why don
’
t you do that, Christopher!
”
he suggested, his eyes narrowing mischievously.

Christopher had fallen back on the bed, bouncing up and down.
“
Do what, Daddy?
”

“
Ask her,
”
Peter proposed.

Christopher stopped bouncing and went still.
“
To be my mommy?
”

“
Yes, sir!
”
Peter exclaimed, suddenly excited by the prospect.
“Listen
... you go and find her and ask her, and then come back and tell me what she says
to you.
”

“
All right, Daddy,
”
Christopher agreed, and crawled off the bed.
“
I
’
ll go ask her.
”

Peter grinned, wishing he could somehow eavesdrop on their conversation.
“
Just don
’
t tell her I sent you,
”
Peter told his son.
“
And ask her as nicely as you can.
”

“
Yes, sir!
”
Christopher
disappeared
an instant as he knelt to retrieve his little cane from where he
’
d obviously left it on the floor. He rose and hurried to the door.

“
And if she says yes, son, you can have all the taffy you want!
”

“
Oh, yippeee!
”
Christopher exclaimed, and did a slightly awkward leap of joy.
“
I
’
ll be right back!
”
he swore, throwing his hand into the air, and Peter grinned as he watched his son
go.

He lay within the bed long after the tap-tap of
Christopher
’
s little cane vanished down the hall. Crossing his arms behind his head, he considered
dressing and following behind him to hear what was said, but decided against it, because
he knew his son would fare better without him.

Still, he
’
d like to see the look on Sarah
’
s face when Christopher asked.

What would she say?

The image made him smile.

“
Sarah Woodard,
”
he whispered,
“
you
’
re not going to walk away from us so easily.
”