The Seventh Night (21 page)

He looked formidable, intense and at the same time staggeringly sexy. He appeared very much the way he’d
looked in my dream my second night in Columbé, when he’d stood over me, firelight glinting on his naked chest and his eyes gazing down at me just before he—

“Do you know what a fire dance is?”

Lost in my own fantasy, his words startled me. “N-no. Is it what Angelique did at the ceremony the other night?”

“That’s one way.”

“There’s another?”

“There’s another. But the other way is even more magical, Christine. It’s even…hotter.”

“Would I—” I licked my dry lips. “Would I get burned?”

“That’s always a risk you have to take, isn’t it?” He smiled as he tightened his arms around me, pulling me so closely against him that I knew people would be whispering even more.

Over Reid’s shoulder, I saw Mrs. DuPrae standing on the sidelines with Rachel. The older woman was frowning slightly as if she and her daughter had been arguing, but when Mrs. DuPrae’s gaze met mine, I wondered if her disapproval wasn’t aimed at me for some reason.

Angelique glided by in Lawrence Crawford’s arms again, but she was no longer smiling up at him. Her expression was petulant, angry like a spoiled child who couldn’t get her way. As I watched them for a moment, trying to calm my own racing pulse, Lawrence dropped his arms from around her and deliberately turned away. Angelique caught his arm, and he spun around.

The conversation that ensued was brief and, by the looks of it, heated. Lawrence shoved her hand from his arm and exited the dance floor. Angelique stood for a moment, watching his back. Then she lifted her gaze and looked directly at me.

My blood chilled.

I’d never seen such hate, such icy contempt in anyone’s eyes.

But was her animosity leveled at Lawrence Crawford…or at me?

“Are you cold?” Reid murmured.

“A little, I guess.”

“Maybe we should see what we can do about warming you up.”

“The fire dance?” I asked breathlessly.

“You catch on fast,” he said with a smile that made the butterflies somersault in my stomach.

I stumbled, stepped on his toe, and he laughed, that deep, irresistible male sound that sent shivers scurrying up and down my back.

And so the moment of truth was at hand. Every nerve in my body seemed to be at war with one another. Of course, I desperately wanted to be with Reid, I mean,
really
be with him. How could I not? It would be the culmination of ten years of fantasies. It would be the final fulfillment, my dream come true.

And yet I could still hear that insidious little voice whispering to me, warning me, reminding me that when a man pursued a plain girl like me, he always had an ulterior motive.

Except I wasn’t plain anymore. Maybe I never had been. Maybe my grandmother, for whatever twisted reason, had planted that image in my head, and I’d kept it around because, well, because in some ways I was comfortable with it. It was easier to dream than to
live,
wasn’t it?

But I wasn’t dreaming anymore. This was reality. And Reid was waiting for my answer.

I’m honestly not sure what I meant to say. I stared up at him, my lips parted to answer, but before I could utter a word, he bent and…he kissed me.

Right there on the dance floor. In front of everyone. With Mrs. DuPrae and Rachel and Angelique and Lawrence Crawford all looking on.

He kissed me while the band continued to play an old,
haunting love song. He kissed me while our bodies moved slowly, so very slowly to the music. He kissed me like I was the most beautiful, desirable woman in the world.

He kissed me like he meant it.

“Christine.” He whispered my name against my lips, made it sound as though it was the most intimate of endearments. One hand was around my waist while his other cupped the back of my neck. We were pressed so closely together we must have looked positively indecent. My grandmother would never have recognized me—her prim and proper granddaughter behaving so brazenly in public. She would have railed against me for days. She would have sent me to my room and locked me in….

That memory made me feel even more daring. Freer.

So I kissed Reid back. Right there on the dance floor.

In front of everyone.

I kissed him like I meant it. I kissed him in a way there could be no mistaking my intentions. I touched my tongue to his, and I felt his immediate reaction. He groaned softly as he tore his mouth from mine.

“Let’s get out of here.” His voice, low and urgent, throbbed in my ear.
“Now.”

I don’t think I could have said a word had my life depended on it. The look on my face told him what he needed to know. His arm tightly around my waist, he led me from the dance floor, through the throng of people meandering in and out of the entranceway, and out into the hall.

We stopped at the bank of elevators, and when the doors slid open, two elderly ladies stepped into the car in front of us. I started to follow them, but Reid held me back. “Not that one,” he murmured.

Oh, the meaning one little phrase could convey. We stared at each other, my stomach clenching and unclenching with tension. He reached down and linked his
fingers with mine as we waited for the next elevator. Mercifully, it was empty and we stepped inside. No one tried to follow us, but I don’t think Reid would have allowed them inside, anyway.

Very deliberately he removed a key from his pocket and inserted it into the control panel. The doors slid closed, and we were completely alone as we smoothly ascended without interruption.

I looked at the mirrored doors, then at the ceiling, then at my hands.

“Christine.” The soft command compelled my gaze. “Come here.”

I went.

His arms opened to envelope me, then closed around me, pressing me tightly against him. Our mouths fused together in a long, heated, intimate kiss. Our tongues touched, then tangled, and my heart went wild.

Up, up we went as the elevator sailed toward our destiny.

I was flying, soaring on wings of pure sensation.

Reid’s hands were all over me, touching, exploring, savoring every curve. The filmy chiffon skirt inched upward, exposing the lacy tops of my stockings. Reid’s fingers found them, traced the pattern against my thigh, and my knees threatened to buckle at the exquisite intimacy of his caress.

The elevator glided to a stop, but Reid’s hands were still ascending, still moving higher and higher along my thigh—torturously, deliciously languid, as though we had all the time in the world. I leaned back against the elevator wall and closed my eyes, waiting…waiting for his touch.

His fingers whispered against the silk of my panties, a touch so light it might have been my imagination. Then he stroked deeper, firmer, and I knew nothing in my dreams had ever been this good.

“You’re so damp and hot and ready,” he whispered
against my mouth. “Will you never cease to surprise me, Christine?”

I was surprising myself, as well. I was discovering a whole new me. I was discovering a woman who had more than just fantasies, more than just dreams. I was discovering a whole new world of passion and desire and torrid heat.

“I want to surprise you,” I whispered back, my hand slipping boldly between us, touching him.

His breath drew in sharply. “God,” he rasped, just before his mouth found mine again.

Our kiss was even hotter this time, more intimate because there was no mistaking what was about to happen between us. I couldn’t wait. I’d had ten years of longing, almost a decade-long buildup to this moment…this ultimate joining of mind, body and soul.

Reid reached past me and turned the key in the control panel. The doors swished open. Without breaking the kiss, he swept me up, shoving aside the layers of fabric so that his hand was against my legs. I wrapped my arms around his neck, tightly, a stranglehold of passion as my tongue plunged inside his mouth.

He groaned and nearly stumbled as he carried me down the hallway. Thankfully no one was about. We would have made quite a spectacle, no doubt, especially when we stopped outside Reid’s suite and he almost savagely jammed his key into the lock several times before he made the right connection. He was breathing heavily, muttering oaths when the door finally swung open and we stepped through.

The room was dim, with only moonlight to guide us. Reid leaned back against the door, as though he could wait no longer, and kissed me again, a long, lingering, soul-shattering kiss that had me clinging to him, whispering to him, “I want you…I want you…”

He carried me swiftly through the living room toward the double doors of the bedroom. The doors seemed to
fly open of their own volition. We swept through and tumbled to the bed, arms and legs deliciously entangled.

Reid’s busy fingers, as nimble and clever as a magician’s, found the back zipper of my dress and lowered it. The strapless bodice fell away, and then the dress seemed to vanish, so quickly I had no time to think—only to feel.

“Is this real?” I whispered.

His hand moved to release one of my stockings, then lowered it slowly down my leg. “It’s as real as you want it to be, Christine.” His voice was deep and sensuous, darkly erotic. The other stocking was unfastened, and he slid the silk down my leg, caressing briefly my inner thigh, my calf, the sole of my foot. My bra came next, and then my panties, mere whispers of fabric that were dropped to the floor without a sound.

Emboldened by the heat rushing through me, I sat up and shoved his jacket down his arms. It fell to the floor with a soft rustle. Reid stood, almost flinging off his tie and shirt with short, deft movements.

“Oh, my,” I whispered as he stepped out of the rest of his clothes and kicked them aside. I watched him in the moonlight. The sight of his chest, the muscles bulging in his arms and lower…all that…unleashed power…

My stomach quivered with anticipation.

Our gazes met as he walked toward me.

He put one knee on the bed and drew me to him. We were kneeling, face-to-face, heart-to-heart. We kissed as moonlight misted us with silver. He tipped my head back, allowing freer access to my mouth and my throat and the hollow between my breasts.

My hair cascaded over my shoulders and swayed against my skin, a sensuous, erotic, wanton sensation. I loved it! I loved the feel of Reid’s body, warm and throbbing, against mine. I loved his hands on my breasts, teasing me, thrilling me until I grew weak and desperate. I loved his tongue inside my mouth, gliding in and out
in a tantalizing preview of what was to come. And I loved his fingers—those clever fingers!—slipping downward, downward between us to show me yet another, more provocative imitation….

My back arched as I gasped. I tried to pull away, but he held me so tightly I could feel our hearts beating against one another, in time now, like the
Rada
drums.

“Dance with me, Christine,” he murmured.

“Reid.” I breathed his name into his neck. “I feel so weak…so hot…”

“It’s time then,” he whispered as he lifted me. I wrapped my legs around him, and slowly, his hands grasping my hips, he lowered me onto him.

And the fire dance began.

The drums started up, or was that the pounding of our hearts? The carnal rhythm set the pace. Slow. Deep. Relentless. His hands on my hips moved me up…and slowly down. Up…and slowly down. Our bodies glistened in the silver light. Our whispers and sighs and ardent commands were chanted into the silence.

“Faster,” he demanded.

“Don’t stop,” I pleaded.

I closed my eyes and all I could see was fire, a blazing inferno that enveloped the whole world. Inside the flames, Reid and I moved together in a dance as old as time.

I watched us, and the image made me frantic with need. I could see my long, golden brown hair swaying against my bare back; I could see firelight glinting on Reid’s naked chest. I clutched him even tighter, my hands moving over him in a desperate search.

He lowered his head and whispered to me, made me burn with slow, deliberate heat as he reached deeply inside me and touched my soul.

And the dance went on….

Our bodies slid together, hot, straining, and the pounding
of the drums became louder, roaring in my ears with an urgency that made me want to scream.

It was happening. The final moment was here. It was beautiful and wonderful and so very frightening…that ultimate loss of control. And yet I couldn’t hang on any longer. I couldn’t…

“Reid!”

If possible, he fitted us even more tightly together. His mouth took mine in long, desperate thrusts of his tongue as heat exploded inside us.

We fell back onto the bed, gasping.

“Oh, God,” I whispered.

“Oh, Christine!”

I was lying on my back, and he raised himself up on his elbow to gaze down at me. I could feel my face coloring. Now that the urgency was over, my old self was starting to reemerge.

I couldn’t believe I was lying here naked. With Reid St. Pierre! And we had just had sex. Incredible, earth-moving sex. And I couldn’t believe that he was actually gazing down at me with such tenderness it made me want to cry.

He lifted one of my hands to his lips, brushing the knuckles with the lightest of kisses. And then there, in the depths of his blue eyes, I saw the wicked gleam, the merest hint of a taunt that was so much a part of the old Reid.

“And I thought you said you couldn’t dance.”

My face reddened even more. I wanted to cover myself, and yet something held me back, a defiance against all those old shackles. “I just said I wasn’t very good,” I murmured, dropping my gaze from his.

“You underestimate yourself, darling,” he whispered, turning my hand so that he could graze my palm with his lips. “You always have.”

“I’ve always tried to be realistic.” My eyes fluttered
closed as his lips moved up my arm and his tongue skimmed the inside of my elbow.

“You can’t get much more real than this,” he said, and I agreed. I rolled to my side, so that we were facing each other. Reid put his arm around me and pulled me to him. The rhythm of our hearts had slowed, but they still beat as one. He tucked my head against his shoulder, and we lay there for long, silent moments, listening to the dark.