Chapter Eight #3
She wanted the night to be special, but that meant more than champagne and white lace.
It meant showing him what was in her heart, what she was just beginning to understand for herself.
That she loved him unrestrictedly. With her arms around him, her mouth on his, she lowered onto the bed. Their marriage bed.
He had shown her what loving could be. Now she hoped she could give some of that beauty back to him.
Since experience wasn’t hers, she could only act on what was in her heart.
She had no idea if a man could feel more than need and satisfaction, but she wanted to try to give him some of the sweetness, some of the comfort he had given to her.
Hesitant, unsure, she pressed her lips to his throat. His taste was darker there, potent, and she could feel the beat of his pulse beneath her mouth. Its rhythm quickened. She smiled against his skin. Yes, she could give him something.
She liked the way he felt under her hands, the muscles that bunched and flowed as she moved her fingers over them. Tentatively she parted his robe. When she felt him tense, she retreated immediately, an apology forming on her lips.
“No.” With a half laugh, he took her hand and brought it back to him. “I want you to touch me.”
He kept his own hands gentle, though each hesitant stroke of her fingertips drove him mad. He was already caught in the innocence and passion of her, in her willingness to be taught, her eagerness to please and be pleased.
So they loved slowly, taking time to teach, to learn. There was no shyness on her part when he drew the lace from her shoulders, but rather a wonder that he found her so desirable. In answer, she slipped his robe away and let herself marvel at the strength and beauty that was her husband.
Perhaps it didn’t make sense, but it was more exciting now that he belonged to her.
The hard fist of need hadn’t lessened; the trembles of anticipation and anxiety were just as sharp.
But now, along with desire, was the simple joy that the man who held her was the man who would hold her night after night.
This was only the beginning, she thought. Laughing, she rolled over him.
“Something funny?” he managed. He felt as though his body was stretched beyond the breaking point.
“I’m happy.” She brought her mouth down hard on his, then, incredibly, felt her bones liquify.
With a soft moan, she took him into her.
When the whirlwind started, she could only hold her breath and grip his hands tight.
Her body took control now, moving with his instinctively as pleasure built and crested and built again.
Her head was thrown back. He thought she looked like a goddess, red hair streaming over white shoulders, her slender body strong and agile as it merged with his.
He wanted to hold her like this, to see her like this again and again in his mind’s eye.
Then the pleasure was so complete that it blinded him.
Erin woke on her first day as Mrs. Logan to a gray morning lashed by spring rain. She thought it was beautiful. Smiling, she shifted over to reach for Burke. And found him gone. Terrified she’d dreamed it all, she sat straight up.
“Do you always wake up like that?” Across the room, Burke hooked his belt and watched her.
“No, I thought…” It wasn’t a dream. Of course, it wasn’t. She laughed at herself and shook her head. “Never mind. Where are you going?”
“Down to the stables.”
“So early?”
“It’s seven.”
“Seven.” She rubbed her hands over her eyes as she struggled up. “I’ll fix your breakfast.”
“Rosa’ll see to it. You should get some more sleep.”
“But I—” She wanted to fix his breakfast. It was one of the small and very vital things a wife could do for her husband.
She wanted to sit in the kitchen with him, talking of the day to come and remembering the night that had passed.
But he was already pulling on his boots.
“I’m not tired. I could go down and start on the books. ”
“You’ve gotten them in good enough shape to take a couple of days off. In fact, we haven’t talked about it, but you don’t have to continue with that if you don’t like.”
“Well, of course I’ll continue with it. That’s why I came here.”
He lifted a brow as she tugged on a robe. “Things have changed. I don’t want my wife to have to close herself up in an office all day.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to work.” Uncomfortable, she began to tug on the sheets. “If you don’t want me to be doing your books anymore, I’ll find another job.”
“I don’t care if you work on them or not, I just want you to know you have a choice. What are you doing?”
“I’m making the bed, of course.”
Crossing over, he caught her hand in his. “Rosa takes care of the bed-making, as well.”
“There’s certainly no need for her to make mine—ours.”
“That’s her job.”
He kissed her brow, then changed his mind and drew her close against him. “Good morning,” he murmured against her lips.
Hers curved just slightly. “Good morning.”
“I’ll be back in a few hours. Why don’t you take a swim?”
When the door closed behind him, Erin crossed her arms. Take a swim?
On her first day as a wife, she wasn’t supposed to cook breakfast or make a bed but to take a swim?
Walking over to the mirror, she stared at herself.
She didn’t look so very different. But feelings didn’t always show.
Wasn’t it odd that she’d refused to be Burke’s mistress, but now she was feeling more like that than a wife?
Married him for his money.
Erin pushed away from the mirror. The hell with that. It was past seven and she had work to do.
Rosa wasn’t any more cooperative than Burke. There was no reason for the senora to do that. There was no reason for the senora to do this. Perhaps the senora would like to take a book into the solarium. In other words, Erin thought, you’re of no use here. That was going to change, she decided.
She threw herself into her paperwork. When Burke didn’t return for lunch, Erin took matters into her own hands.
Filling a pail with hot water and detergent, she took it and a mop to the atrium.
Glasses and plates had already been cleared away, but Rosa hadn’t yet gotten to the tiles.
Erin felt a stab of satisfaction at having beaten her to it.
This is my house, she told herself as she sloshed out soapy water. My floor, and I’ll damn well wash it if I like.
Burke strode through the streaming rain, thinking that the horse he had entered at Charles Town that night would have an edge on the muddy track.
His second thought was that Erin might get a kick out of taking the trip to West Virginia to see the run.
It would give him a chance to show her off a bit.
God, she’d looked beautiful that morning, all heavy-eyed and dewy-skinned.
He was far from certain he’d done the right thing for her by rushing her into marriage, but he was more certain than ever that he’d done the right thing for himself.
He couldn’t remember ever being at peace before or ever feeling as though each day had a solid purpose to it.
He could give her the things in life she’d always wanted. The money didn’t matter to him, so he didn’t give a hang how she spent it. In turn she was giving him a solid base, something he hadn’t known he’d wanted.
Inside, he shook the rain out of his hair and went to look for her. When he entered the atrium, he stopped. She was on her hands and knees, scrubbing. Even as she heard his steps and glanced up, he was dragging her to her feet.
“What in hell are you doing?”
“Why, I’m washing the floor. It took a beating yesterday. You’d be amazed what people can drop and what they don’t bother to pick up again. Burke, you’re hurting my arm.”
“I don’t ever want to see you down on your knees again. Understand?”
“No.” Studying him, she rubbed her arm. She knew real anger when she looked it in the face. “No, I don’t.”
“My wife doesn’t scrub floors.”
“Now wait a minute.” As he turned on his heel, she caught him. “She’ll scrub them if she pleases, and she won’t be called my wife as though she were something shiny to be kept in a box. What’s the matter with you?”
“I didn’t marry you so you could scrub floors.”
“No, nor that I could cook your breakfast or make the bed, that’s plain. Just why did you marry me, then?”
“I thought I’d made that clear.”
“Aye.” She dropped her hand from his arm. “I suppose you did. So I’m to be your mistress after all, it’s just a matter of being a legal one.”
He made an effort, an enormous one, to block off the anger. It didn’t work. “Don’t be a fool. And leave that damn bucket where it is.”
“You’ll remember the word in the ceremony was changed from obey to cherish .” Scowling at him, she gave the bucket a kick and sent soapy water pouring over the tiles. “But I’ll be happy to leave it just where it is.”
“Where the hell are you going?”
“I don’t know,” she said over her shoulder. “Surely I can walk through the house even though I’m hot allowed to touch anything in it.”
“Stop it.” He caught her as she stormed down the hall, but she only shook him off and kept going. “Damn it, Erin, you can touch whatever you like, just don’t clean it.”
“I can see it’s time we had the rules straight.” She pushed through the doors into the solarium. The heat was like a wall and suited her mood perfectly. “Touching and looking are allowed.”
“Stop acting like an idiot.”
“Me?” She turned on him and nearly upset a pot of geraniums. “It’s me who’s an idiot, is it? Out there it’s a fool I am and in here an idiot. Well, it wasn’t me who went into a rage because the floor was getting washed.”
“I thought you came here to get away from that, because you wanted more out of life than washing dishes.”
Slowly she nodded. “Aye, I came to America for that, but it’s not why I married you. Maybe I can handle others thinking I married you because of your money and your fine house, but not you. I told you yesterday that I loved you. Don’t you believe me?”
“I don’t know.” He ran a hand over his face and struggled for calm, for clear thinking, for the kind of controlled logic that had always brought him out on top of any game he chose. “Why does it matter?”
She had to turn away because it hurt too much to face him. “I didn’t lie when I said it, but you can think whatever you like. It doesn’t matter at all.” Very deliberately she picked up a pottery bowl and sent it crashing to the tiles. “You needn’t worry, I won’t clean it up.”
“Are you finished?”
“I haven’t decided.” Crossing her arms, she stared at the clear water of the pool.
He put his hand on her shoulder. Perhaps she did love him a little. It would take a bigger fool than he to push her away. “My mother spent more than half of her life on her knees scrubbing other people’s floors. She was barely forty when she died. I don’t want you on your knees for anyone, Erin.”
When he started to draw his hand away, she clasped it in her own. “That’s the first thing you’ve trusted me with.” She turned to put her arms around him. “Don’t you see you’ll drive me mad if you shut me out?”
“You agreed to take me for what I am.”
“I have. I will. I do love you, Burke.”
“Then let me see you enjoy yourself.”
“But I am.” Tilting her head back, she grinned at him. “I like to fight.”
He ran a finger down her nose. “Then I’m glad to oblige you. Did you take that swim?”
“No, I had the books, and then I argued with Rosa for a while.”
“Busy day. Let’s take one now.”
“I can’t.”
“More arguing to do?”
“No, I’ve done with that, but I don’t want to swim.”
“Can’t you?”
Her chin angled as he’d expected. “Of course I can, but I don’t have a suit.”
“That’s okay.” Lifting her up, he walked to the edge as she giggled and shoved against him.
“You wouldn’t, and if you try, by God, you’ll go in with me.”
“I never intended it any other way.” They went in together, fully dressed.