The Willows (47 page)

All at once, his grin faded. Crossing
the room and six strides, he swept her into his arms, kissing her
as if he never thought to see her again. He was kissing her
goodbye, she thought, aching already. In a few short minutes he
would have to go.

Too soon, he pulled away, and she
couldn’t stop the sigh. “Oh, Michael, do you have to leave so
soon?”

“
Leave? You and me, my lady,
have some unfinished business to attend to.” Low and husky, his
voice sent a thrill up her spine, as did the warmer hands sliding
down her hips. “I have been waiting all day to be alone with you.
An army of alligators cannot chase me away.”

He kissed her again, this time more
tenderly, leaving her aching all the more when he pulled away. “But
in the interest of avoiding awkward interruptions,” he said,
nodding back toward the bedrooms. “I have told the boys we will be
taking a walk.”

“
A walk? Where?”

“
Where we can be alone.”
Sweeping her up into his arms, he carried her through the
door.

The moon has rising, full and bright,
as it planted in the dark sky to light their way. He slight breeze
stirred the air, giving a hint of the cooler weather to calm, but
the night retained the slow day warmth of summer.

As Michael carried her down to the bank
and set her in his boat, she asked again aware he was taking
her.

“
Not far.”

“
I’m not good with
surprises,” she confessed, as he settled himself in an opposite to
her. “I would just keep at you until you tell me where.”

He grinned. “Sorry, my lady, but you
crown me King. Now you will have to play by my rules.”

As they pushed off, she returned the
grin, realizing how much she enjoyed this-the bantering, the
easiness between them, the anticipating of what was to come. “You
should know, my dear King Arthur, I positively hate it when someone
repeats back my words.”

He chuckled. “then be grateful I am not
making you where a blindfold. You can know how much patients and
trust is required, sitting here blind and helpless, while those two
boys argued about which way to go. Never get into a bow with Peter,
I’ve decided. He has many talents, but I fear navigation will never
be one of them.”

The image made her laugh, a clear and
joyful sound that revealed his inner emotions.

Until she caught Michael staring at
her, his pole motionless in his hand. “God, you are
beautiful.”

Men had said those words before, but
never had she felt such intense pleasure. As he looked away,
clearly an easy at revealing so much of his feelings, Gwen found
herself blurting out. “So are you.”

Steering the boat suddenly seem to
command his attention, but he couldn’t hide his quick grin. Gwen
smiled, knowing it was a step in the right direction. Hadn’t she
already decided it would take time to gentle this man, to earn his
trust? Answer night, gliding down this adducing by you, time seemed
to stretch out like a precious gift before them.

And no longer seem so awful, or even
frightening, to be here. Being with Michael, she realized, made her
feel safe, protected. I trust this man, she thought and wonder as
she watched him steer the craft. Whatever he meant to show her
would be surely be magical.

As if to strengthen the notion, Michael
turned into a forest of cypress.

Silvery wisps of Spanish mosh brushed
their heads as they slip between the gnarled trunks, standing like
silent, ancient guardians of the golden cove they now glided into.
Bathed in moonlight, the hidden load balloon was a secret well
worth guarding.

A wide bank stretch out were around the
circular inlet, cypress giving way to the live oaks standing back
further inland, leaving the water free and open to the nights
magic. Dancing with moonbeams, lapping gently at the shoreline, it
invited them in, graciously welcoming them to explore the mysteries
of this secluded, moonlit cove.

“
Oh, Michael, it is
incredible.”

How like Jude was, thinking a shrug
could hide his obvious pleasure. “My sister and I came here has
children.”

“
So far away? How did you
ever find this place?”

Landing on the bank, he stepped out and
took her hand to help her. “Thanks to Jeff I was a little swamp rat
even then. Jeanette stayed squeamish about my other ventures, but
she always back to tag along when I came here. It was our favorite
place.”

His voice trailed off as he sat Gwen on
her feet. She knew he was thinking about a sister, revealing the
loss. Knowing what this place meant to him, realizing that he was
opening up and sharing his past, made it more the special that he
brought her here tonight.”

Turning back to the boat, he grabbed a
blanket and his rifle. “But I can show you many spots, equally
unique. There is a beauty in the bayou they cannot find anywhere
else in the world. Hear that quiet? a man can find his soul in
these gentle waters.”

“
So can a woman,” she said
strongly, “with the right guide.”

Smiling, he reached for her hand. “Come
on then. Let me show you my world.”

He led her up to dry ground, spreading
the blanket before them. “It’s not what you’re used to, my lady,
but I hope it will suffice?”

Stepped up, standing before him. “It
far surpasses what I’m used to. The music of the night, the golden
shower of mood light, these are combinations fit for a queen. I
hope I can encourage this gallant knight to join me.”

His hands slid around her waist. “I
warn you, I am not a gallant hero. Just a simple knight in
tarnished armor.”

She shook her head.” Oh no, sir, you
are a king. My only regret is that it taken me so long to tell you
so.”

Sliding his hands down to her hips, he
pulled her against him. “Show me now, and make it well worth my
wait.”

She melted against them, her arms
reaching up to encircle his neck. She even waiting all day for this
moment. Opening her lips, welcoming him in, she knew she’d been
waiting all her life to give herself to this man.

Offering both body and soul she kissed
him deeply, hungrily, losing herself in the magic of his touch. He
undressed her slowly, deliciously, his warm hands caressing each
inch of flesh he bared. Kissing her shoulder, nibbling her neck, he
and did her hair, letting its bill in a cloud around them.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, pulling back to stare at her of like a
sculptor admiring his work. “You are so damn beautiful.”

Shyly, she reached for his shirt
bottoms. She wanted him naked, too, wanting nothing between them.
As the shirt slipped from his shoulders, she followed his example
and let her hand slide over his ruff muscles, revealing in the
difference between this smooth and hair covered flesh. Her fingers
trembled as she undid the bottoms of his trousers, but no longer
from trepidation. She was eager to see all of them, to feel all of
him, to have him pressed tightly against her bearskin.

When the last button pop free, she
slipped her hands inside, hooking her thumbs over the waistline,
letting her palm slide down his hips then his thighs. She felt
wicked and naughty, but oh, so excited as she slowly revealed him
and explored him.

She let the trousers fall, and what
they soft groan, Michael kicked free of them. Sliding his hands
down through her hair, he kissed her as he lowered them both to the
blanket.

She could feel his heart pounded
against hers, reminding her of the hoof beats in her dream, but
tonight, she found no need for fantasy. Wanting him, loving him as
she did, merely being near this man was all she dreamed of and
more.

He took his time with her, stroking
her, coaxing her, helping her lose all inhibition. He made her hot
and wild and eager, from his tongue on her swelling breasts, to his
magical fingers caressing her secret, inner core. And all through
it all, he kept kissing her, everywhere at once it seemed, until
she cried out that she wanted him inside her, needing him there, or
she’d slowly go insane.

Once more, he obliged her, sliding
himself inside as if he’d always belong there, as if he were the
key to bring her to shivering, shimmering life. With exquisite
care, he eased up, then slid deeper yet, stroking and kissing her
as he moved within her. Gwen could feel him filling her, making her
hole, and found it sheer torture each time he withdrew.

Half mad with need, she began to
whimper. Taking her cue, he drove deeper, harder, his rhythm
gaining speed and urgency. She clung to him, wrapping her legs
around his thighs to hold tight for the dizzying ride. Michael and
his magic took her up every of work, on a tight, coil spiral to the
stars. She could feel herself reaching, stretching, until with a
burst of emotion, she tumbled through the air, a thousand lights
blinking around her, a pure, incredible joy gripping her in a
shuddering release.

“
Oh God, Gwen,” Michael
cried out, holding her tight against him as he showered his love
inside her.

Nor did he let go as they slowly return
to the here and now, but rather rolled them over so they lay side
by side, facing each other on the blanket. He looked so serious,
staring at her face, Gwen felt suddenly unsure. “Was it…was
I…”

A slow grin came to his lips. “Well
worth waiting for indeed.”

“
I never knew I could feel
like this,” she sighed, “so alive and happy.”

He touched her face. “Yes, it was
pretty special, wasn’t it? Magical, almost.”

She smiled up at him. “I know. If this
place. I have expected to wake up and find that I’ve been dreaming.
Oh, Michael, don’t you wish it could be like this
always?”

“
Always?” He pulled away,
rolling onto his back, wariness creeping into his tone. “That is a
pretty tall order, my lady. Life has this tendency to get in the
way.”

She had pushed too fast, she thought
miserably. Seeing his eyes close, she realized he wasn’t ready to
think of the future, not when it was hard enough to cope with the
here and now. “Maybe,” she offered in attempt to regroup, “but I
can at least hope tomorrow will be like this.”

He reach for her hand, bring it to his
lips. “You and me both, my lady. You and me both.”

He sighed, and Gwen, lost in thought of
how she could surprise them tomorrow, didn’t realize how quiet he
was until she glanced over and saw he drifted off. Her first
impulse was to wake him, but then she thought of what the poor man
had been through today, working the fields, playing with the
children, loving her…

He smiled, think and what a difference
he had made in her life. Looking back, she knew that she never
loved Lance. She had seen him only as a means of her filling her
needs, where now it was Michael’s well-being and happiness that
concern her most. Love left no room for being pain and shallow and
selfish, she’d found out, now that the man was Michael.

Watching him sleep, she felt again the
need to do something to ease his burden, and if she could only find
him a spot of land, in an area not far from his beloved bayou. With
excitement, she thought of the sharecroppers cabins. They were near
enough, and according to Lance, no one else wanted them. It wasn’t
ideal acreage, but Michael was no stranger to hard work, and she
and the children could help him. She would go to the Willows and,
if necessary, beg her father. It was the least they could do for
Michael, she’d tell him. Her new husband deserves a
chance.

Husband. Smiling as she nestled in next
to him, she decided Michael had been right. It had been is to hold
out for the magic.

***

Early the next morning, Michael watched
Gwen at the other end of the boat, uneasy with this sounds between
them. He been horrified discovered he slept so long; he hope she
wasn’t angry at him for having to spend the night in the cove. In
the predawn mists, it had lost its magic, seen little more than a
mud hole-chilly and damp and reeking of fish.

So much for charming her, sweeping her
off her feet. Too bad reality, like life itself, and a tendency to
get in the way.

Always
comment she’d asked, as if the future were up to
him.

Pulling toward the cabin everything
added weight to his shoulders. More than ever, it seemed imperative
that he succeed. In the first blush of love and romance, Gwen might
want to stay with him forever, but all too soon the reality of
daily life he thought would soon become unmanageable for her. If he
could offer jewels and dresses and even half the social life she’d
known before, he’d have a better chance at keeping her happy, but
it was a mere matter of days before foreclosure, and he wasn’t one
inch near finding the cash. Chances were, he’d lose his dream-and
Gwen-all in one hit.

Thinking of the marriage license in his
jacket pocket, he knew he could force her to stay. File the papers
and she never get an annulment, not after what happened between
them last night.

Yet, because of that magical time, both
last night and yesterday, Michael couldn’t trap her. Her tenderness
with the children, her melting in his arms, made her for more than
a symbol of his yearnings, the lady of his dreams. Gwen was the
flesh and blood woman he will love to his grave.