Secrets of Sin (14 page)

Why was she wearing her hair up again? Whatever the reason, Reinier made a mental note to require she always wear it down again from now on. He’d tell her to leave it loose so he could run his fingers through its welcoming softness whenever he wished.

His line of thinking was beginning to make him slightly uncomfortable in his chair, so as quietly as possible in order to remain unnoticed, he shifted to sit straight and cross his legs. Luckily, any noise he might have made was hidden by the sibilant noise of the curtain’s swinging lazily in the breeze at the window closer to her.

She put back the book she’d almost taken from the shelf and was running her hands along the spines of the others. It was obvious she was quite fond of them. Her fingers stroked them adoringly, almost as if…

Now, there was no need for Reinier to feel jealous, was there? It was rather foolish to feel the pang of covetousness when one observed one’s spouse just selecting something to read, wasn’t it?

From the few glimpses he got of her profile whenever she turned it in the general direction of the window, Reinier could see her expression seemed disquieted. Yet, her touch on those beloved books was so tender. Was she trying to find some comfort and peace in her collected volumes? What dark thoughts could be plaguing her?

Her fingers flew aimlessly now, and Reinier knew when she finally took out a book that she’d selected it randomly. She began to flip through it, lifting it high enough for him to catch the gold-leafed name on the cover in the light.

The Welshman who preferred the still life of the country to the bustle of the ton, Reinier mentally mused. Emiline sighed and was immediately drawn into the words, turning more to the window to catch a better light for reading. Her lips slightly opened and closed as she mimicked silently the passage that had captured her. Reinier saw adoration and longing on her face. Instantly, the angry taste of bitter sadness was back, making him wish she could look at him with such…affection.

Would that be enough?

Probably. If he were a fool—and what was it they said about fools? Only fools fell in love.

Before that train of thought could continue to meddle with his mind some more, Reinier lifted himself out of the chair in one quick motion and stalked toward her, reciting aloud what she was reading. “‘Let sensual natures judge as they please, but, for my part, I shall hold it no paradox to affirm there are no pleasures in this world. Some coloured griefs and blushing woes there are, which look so clear as if they were true complexions; but it is a very sad and a tried truth that they are but painted.’”

At that Emiline jumped and slammed the book shut. With her mouth ajar, she stared at him as if he’d sprouted a fish tail and become a merman. Ignoring her bewildered look, Reinier gently placed one finger under her chin to close her luscious lips again, then lifted the book from her hands, flipping through it himself.

Reinier spoke into the pages as if he was merely thinking out loud. “Don’t look so startled, Lily. I could take offense that you think me so ill read. Vaughan’s a little too maudlin for my taste, though. I do think Donne’s my favorite. I so love the contrasts in him.”

He closed the book and turned it in his hands. After admiring the richness of the leather and the skill of the binding, he glanced at her. She opened her mouth again to reply. Nothing came out but an embarrassed gasp.

“This is an exquisite edition, Lily. Wherever did you find it?”

Reiner watched her visibly shaking herself out of her trance. She blinked, her eyes bouncing from his to the book in his hands and back. But then the question seemed to have turned on some light inside her. Her eyes now sparkled like a full moon reflecting on the tides; her whole being exuded excitement. Watching the change was truly mesmerizing.

“Isn’t it, though?” Her hand brushed the unique leather binding quickly once. “It definitely took some persuasion to get it away from the mayor of Grenada. Turns out all it took was passing on the recipe for mother’s ‘secret ingredient’”—she curled her forefingers in the air, changing her voice to imitate the graveness of that so-called secret, and continued with a laugh—“for her famous Alsatian Chocolate Balls to his cook, although it’s really only a knifepoint of cinnamon added to the vanilla, nothing out of the ordinary. The cook could have figured it out herself. Well, that and three cases of rum. That did it. It was really amazing how easily he let go of it then!”

Laughing some more, she turned to the shelf, pride glowing on her face. “But for most of the collection I have a wonderful bookseller in Grenada who is always on the lookout for things I might like.

“Oh…and…” She all but skipped to the bookshelf, bouncing on the balls of her feet, and reached for something hidden on a high shelf. “Here it is! Have you seen this edition of Chapman?”

Taking the book out, she caressed it once, front and back, then pressed it to her heart before she presented it to him. When he took the proffered book from her, she clasped her hands under her chin and continued hastily, “I’ve yet to authenticate it, but I have it on good authority it’s from Andrew Marvell’s collection from his time in Bermuda…Of course, it’s the poetry that really matters, I suppose, not so much the binding, but…”

Her words trailed and she quickly looked away. Reinier suspected she felt self-conscious that she’d begun to ramble, but he could have listened to her talk of poetry all day.

He set both precious volumes in his hands back in their place. Stepping behind her, he wrapped his arms around her small waist. He enjoyed the familiar feel of her body against his.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you’re enthusiastic about something?” His murmur was muffled as he pressed a soft kiss on her temple.

Turning her head to the side and away from him, she harrumphed. “I normally don’t read in a crowd, no.”

“Maybe you should. It’s captivating. But I have an even better idea. Let’s you and I find a private spot for a picnic and maybe we’ll discover even more things we might have in common.”

At that he felt her whole body relax and melt into his. She crossed her arms in front of her, holding his arms in hers. Turning, she beamed up at him. “I think that might be very pleasant.”

E
miline let her arms dangle by her sides, because with every step she took hers would brush against Reinier’s, who in his other hand was carrying the basket Justine had ordered to be packed for their picnic. Of course, the contact was hidden in Emiline’s skirts. Nevertheless, or perhaps because they kept it covert, she liked it.

It was one more little secret they shared. Actually, Emiline found that sharing secrets with Reinier, old, new, and
very
new, was…nice. Not just that, it was surprising and so very exciting. And that was what she decided she would do the remaining days of the bargain. She resolved to enjoy finding out secrets and marvel at what they had in common. She’d forget about the rest and always remember the good times she’d had with Reinier.

Just as they were passing the stables, John, the groom, came around the corner with a rope in his hands.

Oh no. “Did she do it again?”

John seemed fretful that she had caught him, stepping from one foot to the other and wringing the rope in his hands. “Yes, mum. I swear I turned my back just a second and the moment I turned back, she’d bitten through the leather again!”

Reinier snickered. “That filly hasn’t changed at all, has she? So haughty as a mare now, sabotaging the bridle and tack?”

Emiline snorted with contempt, not dignifying Reinier’s comment with a reply. In her opinion, all the mare required was a lot of love and even more patience. “John, you have to take better care. We can’t get leather here at the pace that mare is chewing it up. And she’ll bite through that thin rope in no time.”

The stable lad sighed, nodding in agreement and uttering something that sounded like “stubborn” beneath his breath. Emiline would have chided him some more, but something about the way Reinier was looking at the rope just now caused her to forget what she’d wanted to say.

“Reinier?”

He jolted when she spoke his name, but then his impeccable masking smile was back on his lips, although his eyes were still a little clouded.

“I believe I saw a gig in there last time I was in the stables.” That grin on his face was lopsided and quite broad.

Confusion had her eyebrows wrinkle, but automatically she nodded. “I bought that chaise on a fancy a few months ago. They said it was the latest fashion, but I thought, fashion or not, it was perfect for my purpose. Sadly, though, I haven’t used it yet.”

“Have the gig ready, boy, will you?” His order was directed at John, who almost jumped in his tracks because he’d just been trying to steal away from them.

The groom almost hiccupped his contradiction. “Yes, but—”

“No worries, we’ll take enough rope with us to ensure that mare will get us back as well, won’t we?” Reinier cocked his head to Emiline and raised his eyebrows briefly.

She had to swallow and avert her eyes, realizing the stable lad was patiently waiting for her confirmation. At her minuscule nod, he ran off to do as he’d been told, but she hardly saw that. She was lost in Reinier’s gaze and what it did to her.

She recognized that look. In fact, she’d never forget it. It made her shiver. Not with a peculiar coolness, but with a fresh wave of anticipation and lust. He’d had that same expression yesterday. Just before their escapade in the tack room.

Reinier’s hand wrapped around hers and he brought it up to his lips. “It is perhaps wise to take the gig. We do have a long way to go, and this basket is quite heavy.” His breath tickled her knuckles. “I hope you don’t mind, my Lily?”

There. He only needed to say that name in that special tone, with that particular emphasis, and her toes curled while she fought against that rush of a pleasant tickle up and down her sides. “No—o,” she stammered, and the left corner of Reinier’s mouth kicked up.

“I thought so.” He hadn’t looked her in the eye when he’d said it. He’d absently brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. What was he thinking about?

Just as she wanted to ask, she thought better of it. He’d proven that he meant to keep their actions private so far. If there was something on his mind—without doubt there must be, because there were even unspeakable things on her relatively virginal mind—he certainly wouldn’t tell. He’d show her. That knowledge added to the pleasant murmur of tingling anticipation coursing through her veins already.

In no time the chaise was outside, the horse in front of it, she was seated on the passenger side and Reinier sat next to her, reins in hand. He clucked his tongue twice, the mare jumped into motion, and they made their way up to the secluded cove where her father had constructed himself a rough-hewn shelter.

After the conversation in the study, Emiline was determined to ignore all her deep thoughts and contradicting feelings. But now as they made their way in silence, listening to the slow trample of hooves and the occasional high-pitched protest of the wheels, she found that old habits die hard, unfortunately.

Even though she’d vowed to let it be and only lose herself in enjoying his company, she still had moments, like now, trying to analyze his mind, as well as her own. But she didn’t want to waste the remaining one-and-a-half days—and the night—worrying over whether her feelings were good or bad or she didn’t know what else. She’d try harder from now on, she pledged to herself.

“Here we are.”

Reinier’s words stopped her thoughts right there and Emiline looked up, realizing that they had, indeed, arrived at her second favorite place on the island. He was walking around the gig now, holding his hand up to her to help her down. She stood and jumped down, securely caught by Reinier’s arms.

Lifting her chin, she was instantly lost in the green fire in his eyes. His head dipped and he brushed his lips across hers briefly, his hands wandering up to her shoulders, squeezing gently. As pleasant as that fleeting kiss was, Emiline winced at the touch, lowering her right shoulder a bit. Reinier immediately drew back, his eyes narrowed.

“What’s wrong with your shoulder? Are you hurt?”

The surprising amount of worry she saw flicker over his face made her cringe inwardly. How she’d come to hurt her shoulder was much too embarrassing to tell. “It’s nothing, really.”

“Lily, why does your shoulder hurt?”

The tone with which he’d spoken was stern and Emiline knew he wouldn’t let it go unless she told him. With a sigh, she looked down and stepped around him. “I did nothing but what you required. I spent the morning as I wanted to.”

“And that entailed hurting yourself?”

She shrugged, already busy getting the blanket open, spreading it half in the shadow of the shelter just off the beach and half in the sun. “In a way…yes.”

Kneeling, she straightened the blanket, but Reinier was in front of her and grasped her upper arms.

“Lily.” Now his tone was so tender that she bit her lip not to blurt out that she’d just bumped her shoulder spying on him.

“All right, then. I was clumsy and I fell.”

“Clumsy? How? Why?”

Rolling her eyes, Emiline took an exasperated breath. “I saw you on the docks and ducked and hid to watch you. Only there was a crate in the way. So. There.” Her chin was lifted in defiance.

Reinier stared at her, his face an impenetrable mask, and Emiline felt her defiance crumble pitifully.

Finally, he blinked. “You spied on me?”

“No, no! I
watched
you, and it was just a coincidence!”

“You spied on me.”

“Well, look who’s talking. Those who live in glass houses?”

Reinier suddenly burst into laughter, rolling from his knees to sit with one leg stretched while the other was bent. “Lily, you happened to come into the study and I revealed I was there mere moments later. You, on the other hand, spied on me.”

He looked at her with his head tilted. He licked his lower lip, then briefly bit it. “What did you see me do?”

That was enough. That was definitely something he didn’t need to know. It was mortifying enough as it was. Emiline jumped up to go and fetch the basket from the chaise. When she returned he was still waiting for an answer.

Opening the basket, she looked inside. “Well, I didn’t see so much. Oh, look, lobster salad! You working, you bathing. Mmh, there’s mango again! I love mangoes.” She blinked at him, her eyes the epitome of innocence.

By the way his chest gradually started to shake, she could see he was fighting laughter. When she added the sweetest smile she could manage, he burst into fits of chuckles. She didn’t think she’d ever seen a more compelling sight than him laughing that openly. There was so much warmth in his eyes, what she could see of them anyway through the tears of mirth that eventually leaked forth. His genuine laughter was intoxicating, sweeping her away. Emiline couldn’t help but laugh with him.

When he sobered, he wiped the tears from his cheeks. “What else is in there?”

Emiline noticed him getting up off the ground but thought nothing of it as she peeked inside the basket. She cocked her head to see what else was there for them to eat, picking an earthenware bowl up and sniffing it. “Ah, prawns in garlic.” Putting it aside, she continued searching. “Oh, there’s also granadilla purée. What—”

Her shriek when she was suddenly blinded was almost earsplitting. Immediately, her hands flew up to rid herself of the cloth that covered her eyes, but Reinier caught her wrists.

“Trust me, Lily.”

He’d only whispered the words, but the tenor was so different from when he used his “command and conquer” tone on her, showing her that he knew how she felt and that he wouldn’t do it if she insisted.

It had never occurred to her that he could be vulnerable as well in their games. He knew he was pushing her limits, but did she truly want him to stop?

Spellbound, Emiline brought her arms down again. She felt the knot at the back of her head and the blindfold tightened, leaving her in complete darkness.

“Since you’ve seen too much already today, I believe this punishment is rather fitting.” His front pressed reassuringly against her back, and his lips brushed the side of her neck. Emiline thought she felt him place a fleeting kiss there as well. She yielded to his will in a heartbeat.

Gradually, she got accustomed to the unnatural blackness and felt her other senses grow more acute. She could hear the seagulls again, although she knew they were far away. The waves washed against the sand on the beach just a few yards away. Garlic and mangoes and the salty air of the sea created a symphony in her nose that was simply unique. The faint aroma of ginger tickled her nose. Her eyes were covered with silk, while she felt rougher linen on her temples. He must have covered her eyes with his silk handkerchief before he used some other cloth to secure the blindfold around her head.

“But, monsieur, how am I going to eat if I can’t see?”

“I will feed you, Lily. Soon. But first things first.”

Her breath pitched. She became aware of Reinier’s natural scent. A green field of lilac poppies suddenly flashed through her mind, and his alluring darker note, resembling pepper, burnt in her throat. Arousal shivered through her.

Reinier’s front was still pressed against her back and her head became light. The moment he touched the laces on her front, the tips of her breasts popped up without shame. His wrists brushed over them when he slowly opened her dress and she gulped air into her lungs as each seemingly casual stroke sent electrifying sizzles through her and into her belly. Moistness pulsed out of her. Her core wept so fast for him she had to suppress a moan.

Her dress fell open, allowing the warm breeze to cool the crevice between her breasts. Her sensitized skin rippled with gooseflesh. The dress fell away from her right shoulder, and his hands worked the laces some more until her other shoulder and a good part of her upper body were exposed as well.

Every inch of her skin sizzled as if set on fire. She felt his breath on her shoulder. He must be watching himself, she thought, watching his hands, his clever hands, cupping her breasts, squeezing the tips lightly. His masculine purr made her feel dizzy with wanting and she let her head fall back, resting securely against his shoulder. The humid warmth of his breath tickled her earlobe.

“Stand, Lily.” His voice was rough already and even deeper than usual. His body exuded tremendous heat even through the shirt he still wore.

He helped her stand; she discovered it was not easy at all to find one’s balance without one’s eyesight. Then he tugged her dress down slowly as if savoring every moment when inch after inch of her body was leisurely revealed. Her overwhelmed senses spun. The tension in her immediately escalated; the lust she already felt pitched even higher. She could hear her own breath coming in shallow gasps, and she continued to remind herself not to move at all, for he’d given her no leave to do so.

Emiline felt completely at ease with her lack of clothing now. She’d always loved the feel of the sun and salty air on her skin. But, she mused, even better than that would be to feel Reinier’s skin added to those.

When he wrapped his arms around her waist completely, the slight pressure downward told her he wanted her to get back down on the blanket. Reinier’s arms supported her.

His breath tickled at her throat; then she felt it on her shoulder again. Next, he kissed the small hollow at the base of her neck, his hands cupping her breasts once more, but this time squeezing the tips hard. Emiline sucked in a gasp, her hands curling into fists as another wave of welcoming heat moistened the juncture of her thighs.

His lips wandered to her shoulder, then back up to her earlobe while his hands moved with easy slowness across her body.

“So much has changed about you.” His husky whisper in her ear had her floating on a wave of pleasure. She never thought that she could be as aroused as she already was. She didn’t want to have anything to do with the food in the basket. Right now all she wanted to have—

“You’re still so beautiful, but your body is different. It’s leaner, more defined.” Reinier pressed his teeth against her nipple until the peak pouted up between them and was received by his twirling tongue. She couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped her throat.