The Willows (45 page)

His lips move down, down, tracing the
swell of her breasts. His mouth dipped lower, his tongue teasing
her nipples through the cotton of her bra, and her moans mingled
with the low, distant cry of a bird.

Lifting up his head to slide the bra
from her shoulders, he kneeled between her legs, watching her face.
Moonlight danced over features, lending a special glow as she
smiled up at him. Sheer gold and silver, she was more than a
shimmering vision; she was his treasure.

“
You are so damn beautiful,”
he said deeply, drawn back to her mouth. Kissing her, devouring
her, his lips wandered to the valley between her breasts, bare now
and waiting for his touch. Tracing a line up to a shivering nipple,
he took it whole in his mouth, twirling his tongue around it,
sucking deeply. Her hands dug into his hair, holding onto him as if
her life depended on it. “Oh Michael,” she kept moaning.

His hands slid down, sliding up what
remained of her underwear so is naked flesh could touch hers.
Stroking her thighs, suckling her breast, he could feel himself
expanding, growing hard with need. Her skin felt hot to the touch,
so hot and moist against him, he went a little wild. He had to have
her, now, or surely he would explode.

He tried to prepare her, sliding his
fingers inside to ease the way, but she groaned so in his ear, and
wiggled so intensely against him, he could wait no longer. He
raised up to look into her eyes. “Help me, my lady,” he begged. “I
have got to be inside of you.”

As her fingers closed around his
engorged flesh, a jolt of sheer lust shot through him. He would
have lost control, had her eyes not gone instantly wide, warning
that she needed reassurance. “I will go easy,” he told her, praying
he had the willpower. “Trust me.”

Her smile reached down into his soul,
turning him inside out. And no a fire raged its war inside him, he
held tight to the image of that smile as he eased slowly, gently
inside her. Alternately withdrawing, then pushing against her
resistance, he Hearing the word trust, reverberating in his brain.
She felt so good, so tight and warm, every push became overwhelming
temptation, every withdrawal, sheer torture.

As it did test them, Gwen wrapped her
legs around his thighs, arching her back to move against him,
urging him deeper, harder, until with eight thrust of her hips, she
helped break the barrier.

“
Don’t stop,” she cried out
when he hesitated. “Oh, Michael, not now.”

Nor could he. Alive with the
sweet, impossible miracle of her eager and hot in his arms, he
kissed her hungrily. Their bodies began to move as one, Gwen
meeting him thrust for thrust, her hands seeming to touch them
everywhere at once.
She’s mine now,
his brain sang in victory, and he drove deep
inside her. Spiraling upward, he could feel her gather around him,
tightening, until he thought he would go insane.

“
Oh, oh Michael!” She cried
out, shuddering beneath him. “Oh.”

At her release, he felt
himself pour into her in a swift powerful flood of relief, filling
her with every ounce of his being.
She’s
mine
, he thought again, the miracle of no
less sweet as his thrust tapered into a dying rhythm, and he sank,
happy and replete, to the towel beside her.

Too overwhelmed to speak, to think, he
lay on his back for a few moments, looking up at the sky. How many
nights has he stared at the night, yearning for this? He rolled
over to gaze at her, still finding it incredible that she was here,
that he hadn’t imagined her coming to him. She turned at the same
time, facing him with a gentle, content smile.

His hand went up to trace her cheek.
“Are you real? I find it hard to believe this happened.”

“
I know.” She leaned into
his touch. “I don’t know what came over me, but standing in that
kitchen, I knew I couldn’t let you go away like that. It suddenly
seemed to be the right thing to do, the only thing to
do.”

He nodded, not trusting himself to
speak. He wanted to talk about tomorrow, and the day after that,
but perhaps it was too soon to press for a commitment. She would
need more time-and a whole lot more loving-to get used to the idea
of staying.

And he had a long way to go before he
could take care of her properly.

Reminded of all he had to do, he rose
with a weary sigh. He reached for his close, jamming his legs into
the trousers, stuffing his arms in his shirt.

“
I see.” She sat up, hastily
grabbing for her bra. “It seems I had made a mistake.”

He froze, waiting to have his worst
fears confirmed. Once again, she was merely toying with him.
“Another mistake?”

“
Obviously, you got better
things to do than waste your time with me.”

“
Oh God, Gwen, no.” He
reached down for her, point her against him. That’s what this was
about? She was feeling slighted?

“
I did not command here to
manipulate you, you know. I’m not after a favor or some trinket, or
even to lure you to the tournament. I understand about your dream,
Michael, and I’d never do anything to stop you from realizing it.”
Her voice cracked, but she pushed on. “If anything, come yet here
to you was my way of telling you that.”

Cradling her against his chest, he
kissed the top of her head. “Oh, Glenn, I’m sorry. I guessed I’m so
you still hurrying from one thing to another, I didn’t stop to
think. Believe me, the last thing I want is to leave right now. It
is no excuse, I know, but this isn’t a easy time for me. I am
confused and torn, and hell, there is so damn much I have to
do.”

She eased away from his chest, touching
his face gently with her fingertips. “I know. And I don’t want to
make things harder.” With a pleasant smile, she took his hand and
tugged it. “Kaman, walk with me back to the cabin.”

“
Gwen…”

“
No, I understand, really,”
she told him as they walked to the porch. “This is all very new and
confusing for me, too. Maybe we can both benefit from a little time
apart. We needs to sort things out.”

She was right, but her words
made him uneasy. He didn’t want time apart, didn’t want to risk
her
sorting
him out
of her life.

At the porch, she climbed to the steps.
Behind her, through the open door, Michael could see the gentle
glow of the fading fire, it’s worth reminding him of all he would
leave behind. Gwen’s gentle smile. Nearly unmanned and him. More
than ever, he wished he could stay.

She took his hand between hers. “You
are a good man, Michael, and I know you’re thinking of what’s best
for the children. Part of me wants to cling to your arm, demanding
you stay and reassure me, but another part understands that if you
go now and do what you need to do, it will be that much sooner that
you can come back and we can try this again. It may be bold of me
to say so, sir, but I find I’m quite eager to spend the night in
your arms.”

“
Oh, Gwen.” He took her in
his arms for one last drugging kiss, aching with loss when he yet
to let her go. Standing back, gazing at her against the backdrop of
the softly lit cabin, he relies how much of his dreams had gotten
tangled up in this woman. How coming home to her, and his family,
was what gave all his struggles of meaning.

“
Oh hell, till the children
I will be here,” promised as he turned to go. “I might be late, but
if I have to break a leg trying, you and I, my lady, will most
deftly try this again.”

Chapter 20

“
It is getting late,
Gwen.”

Clad inner cone shaped hat and long
flowing bedsheet, Jude looked exactly like Merlin-to anyone with an
imagination. Her brothers, in their potato sack tunics decorated
with their personal coat of arms, made a perfect knights-or would,
if they weren’t fidgeting so.

“
Hush, you’re interrupting.”
Glenn tried calming them by reading, but not even their favorite
story could change their fears over Michael delayed arrival.
Counting the hours as they ticked away, Gwen shared their concern.
“Your uncle is a very busy man,” she told them nonetheless, keeping
her voice firm. “He will come when he has the chance.”

“
But it will be dark in a
few hours,” Patrick argued. “And how can we hold the
tournament?”

“
We would just gather up all
the candles and light them, and it will seem twice as magical.” And
romantic, she found herself thinking, though sanity decreed that
she avoid such thoughts. Every time she anticipates seeing Michael
again, touching him, she went half mad with impatience.

“
What good are candles, if
he doesn’t come?”

“
We will have none of that,
Jude.” Noticing the girls frown, Gwen quickly corrected herself, “I
mean Merlin. If there is one thing your uncle is famous for, it’s
keeping his word. He said he was coming and he’ll be here, just as
soon as he can.”

From there worried expressions, Gwen
knew she had to do something, and quickly, for they’d soon have
heard doubting Michael as well. “I am so certain he will be here.”
She told them, slamming shut the book, “I say we should go outside
and get ready to meet his boat, why don’t we find hiding places, so
we can really surprise him?”

“
Screaming with delight,
they scrambled up with new enthusiasm to run for the door.
Following more slowly, Gwen was glad she thought of hiding. They
need something to do; that inaction was what made them edgy. And
herself, too.

Watching the twin scramble for the same
hiding place and giggle when they bang their heads, she laughed
with them. Any other time, she might have scolded, concerned that
they’d ruin their costumes, but today she just wanted to join them.
It was time for fun, for magic, for thinking it acting like a child
herself.

She looked down at her costume, and
thought how are friends would have sneered at her in this dress. No
adult sheet known would mistake her for a queen, with the necklace
of shells and stone Jude had made for her, and a crown made of
paper in paint, yet when the children had ooed and ahhed and
declared her the most beautiful Gwen ever, she’d happily believe
them. Their enthusiasm gave no need for finery and riches, just
them. Being with those kids, helping them plan this party, had been
more fun then any social ball.

“
He’s coming!” Paul
whispered suddenly from behind a big Cypress.

“
Quick, Gwen,” Peter
whispered from the bushes. “You have to hide.”

Panicked by the urgency, Gwen froze. By
the time she glanced around her, it was already too late, for
Michael had caught sight of her and he was driving into shore.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, jumping from the craft as the banked.
“Where are the children?”

“
Surprise!” They scream,
popping out of their hiding places to crowd around him.

Stopped, his gaze–happen use, half
bewildered-going straight to Gwen. “I assume this means I’m not too
late?”

She nodded, drinking in the sight of
them. Spite her reassurance to the children, she relates now that
she had been afraid he’d let them down. After all, her father had
often disappointed her, and on more than one special
occasion.

But Michael is here, standing before
her, and it was all she could do not to rush at him and shower him
with kisses. Though clearly tired and worried and more worn than
she’d ever seen him, he had managed to be here. Once again, he’d
kept his word.

“
Happy birthday,” she said,
wanting to tell him a whole lot more. Later, she promised herself.
When they were alone.

“
Birthday?” With a mock
frown, he turned his attention to the children. “I thought I’d been
summoned to a tournaments. What are Merlin and the Knights of the
round table doing here?”

As the children smiled, their faces
lighting up with pleasure, Gwen again father the urge to kiss him.
Not only had he come, he was ready and willing to play that game,
right down to recognizing their costumes. “Oh, it is a tournament,
all right,” she told them, clapping her hands. “My Knights, find
this newcomer a tunic.”

At her command, he stooped down to let
them pull a sack, decorated with the crown they chosen for his coat
of arms, over his head. When they were done, he shook her head.
“Something tells me we’ve got a lot of loose potatoes lying around
somewhere.”

“
Quiet, sir,” she said with
a grin. “You must be serious, for you are about to be transported
to Camelot. Where is my page? Oh, there you are, sir Christopher.
The blindfold please?”

“
Blindfold? Now just waiting
moment, my lady-“

“
She is not a lady anymore,
now she is the queen.” Christopher corrected sternly. “You cannot
argue, Uncle Michael. You have to obey the queen.”

“
He is right,” Gwen
whispered in his ear, stepping up to tie the cloth over his eyes.
“You are in my kingdom now, sir, and you half to follow my rules.”
Aloud, she added, “Sir Patrick, Sir Peter, taken off now in his
boat.”

Michael is still arguing as the pulled
off. Losing no time, Gwen took other children and trudged through
the swamp. They carried baskets of food, she gingerly carrying the
cake. All none edibles have been carried there earlier, to make
certain they reach the fortress before the boys and their honored
guest.