Chapter 14 #2
“Well, anyway, she’s been known to frequent military posts for quite some time,” Norah ended.
She smiled suddenly. “Actually, it’s quite wonderful that he has you—as a wife.
It does put her right in her place, don’t you think?
I mean, surely there’s no hope for her at this point, but…
I think that she might really be ready for marriage now.
I mean, after all, she married Howard, as her father wanted, and gained incredible prestige and a great deal of money.
Now, she’s free to marry for…well, to marry whomever she chooses. ”
They went on to argue the outrageousness of Louella’s mode of speech. Sabrina felt as if the knife in her stomach was twisting ever deeper and deeper…
Hitting an artery.
The musicians were still playing later, and she was talking with young Emma Reed when she felt a hand land firmly upon her arm.
Turning about, she found Sloan, his dark eyes hard on her.
“Miss Reed,” he said politely, acknowledging Emma.
“My love,” he said to Sabrina, “if you don’t mind, I think I’d like to retire for the evening. ”
“Of course, I don’t mind. Retire, sir, whenever you please,” Sabrina told him.
Sloan arched a brow.
Emma laughed softly. “I think your husband wants to retire with you, Sabrina. Army men get so little time with their wives! I quite understand—good night!” she said quickly, smiling at Sloan and hurrying away to join another group of friends.
“Shall we?” Sloan suggested.
“Shall we what?”
“Retire.”
“I told you; you are free to do so.”
“And I have told you, I’d like you to accompany me.”
“But I’m not ready to leave.”
“Sabrina—”
“Sir, you have chosen to leave a gathering without me before. Please feel free to do so now.”
She saw a dark flicker of dangerous anger in his eyes. “Sabrina, I’ll carry you out of here,” he warned.
And he would.
And actually, she was ready to tell him that he could sink right into hell with his ex-mistress and one-time-almost-wife any time he chose.
Sabrina swung around. She stood very stiffly and let him set her cloak upon her shoulders and escort her from the Custer home to their quarters.
Once outside, she walked quickly, trying to keep ahead of him. He followed easily enough with his long strides. When they were inside his quarters, she was already walking away from him as he took her cloak from her shoulders.
“All right, what in God’s name is the matter with you now?” he demanded irritably.
She spun around. “An old acquaintance?”
He frowned. “I don’t know—”
“The delightful widow Howard.”
He sighed with irritation. “What about Marlene Howard? I am weary of this.”
“You are weary of it!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“She’s far more than an acquaintance; you were going to marry her.”
Sabrina held her breath, watching his face as she threw out the accusation.
It was the truth; she knew it even before he thundered out, “So?”
She inhaled sharply, dismayed that she could feel so stricken and devastated. She wouldn’t allow him to do this to her, make her feel so very hurt!
“You could have told me!”
“What difference does it make?” he demanded impatiently.
“What difference does it make?” she repeated. He really didn’t seem to understand at all how awkward the situation was for her. Maybe he didn’t really care. He had insisted on keeping their marriage vows because he was stubborn and wanted a family. He had never claimed any deep devotion to her.
“I’m in a horrible mood, Sloan. I should really be left alone,” she said regally. She moved away from him but soon found herself backed against a wall, confronting him.
“Sabrina—” he began, his hands flat against the wall on either side of her head. “Sabrina, I won’t—”
“You wanted to be left alone the last evening we were together; now it’s my turn.” She bit into her lower lip, trying to turn her head, her lashes falling. “Please, go away, Sloan. You’re so good at leaving. Please, leave now.”
“No, Sabrina. I was upset about a situation that had just occurred, while you’re upset about something that happened years ago.”
“But you didn’t—you didn’t even tell me!”
“Because it has nothing to do with the present.”
“Were you lovers?”
“What difference does it make?”
“I want to know.”
His features were tense, his eyes very dark as he stared at her. “Yes,” he said flatly.
“Oh.”
“Don’t say ‘oh’ in that tone of voice.”
“What tone?”
“It’s over, Sabrina; it’s been over for years and years. So don’t let her cause trouble!”
She stood silently, staring at him, wanting to rage against him because she couldn’t help but feel so insecure, and yet wishing that…
He suddenly let out an exasperated oath and catapulted into motion. She gave a startled cry as she found herself swept up into his arms and cast down on their bed. As she gasped for breath, he was on top of her.
“Sloan!” she protested, pressing against his chest, struggling beneath him.
He held dead still above her. “I’ve been gone, and I’ve missed you incredibly,” he told her huskily.
I’ve missed you…
The words were on the tip of her tongue, and yet she was still too uncertain to utter them.
He stared into her eyes, seeking something. His jawline hardened somewhat, and he eased back—about to leave the bed, she was certain.
Except that he didn’t. “I’ve missed you incredibly,” he repeated, rolling her over and struggling with the buttons of her dress. He was determined and impatient. She heard the buttons pop, felt him tugging against her clothing.
“Well, you could help!” he said, exasperated.
She rolled over, meeting his gaze. “I don’t think that I’m required to help when you’re shredding my clothing.”
“I wouldn’t be shredding your clothing if you weren’t being so damned stubborn.”
“I’m not stubborn, I’m—”
“Jealous.”
“Oh, don’t be absurd!” she cried, praying her flush wouldn’t give her away. To hide her face, she did help, pulling the yards of fabric of her party dress over her head and casting the gown to the floor by her side.
He arched a brow, a slow smile forming on his lips as he studied her angry face.
“Thanks!” he murmured softly, with amusement.
His eyes continued to meet hers as he found the tie to her corset, his fingers brushing the bare flesh of her breasts as they spilled above the bones of the corset.
Heat flashed instantly through her at that touch.
She’d already had difficulty breathing; now it seemed that she was gasping to draw each breath, and yet she couldn’t take her eyes from his or evade the sheer feeling that rocked her from the simple brush of his fingers…
He was fast, perhaps seeking the advantage of her stunned compliance. She quickly found herself stripped naked, lying on the bed, waiting.
He rose and doused the lamps. She heard him disrobing and remained where she lay, still but shaking. Waiting.
A moment later, she felt his weight as he lay down beside her.
She felt his hands, his arousal against her bare flesh. She felt as if she were on fire, she wanted him so much.
She bit into her lip, somewhat ashamed of herself and still in such a state of gnawing hunger that it was nearly torment.
His body eased against hers, and she felt the rough pressure of his chest against her breasts, the force of his groin against her abdomen, his sex against her thighs.
She opened her mouth to speak, to protest that she was still upset about the evening, but no words left her mouth, for she met the heated force of his kiss, the savage thrust of his tongue.
And as he kissed her, he shifted, entering her slowly with the full force of his arousal, and he moved inside her with a volatile need that instantly swept her into the sheer storm of his passion.
She realized how much she had missed him the nights he’d been gone—oh, God, she had wanted him, wanted this…
and yet she was far too proud ever to admit it. Especially when she was afraid that…
She could come to want him too much.
His fingers threaded into her hair. His kisses ravaged her mouth as he moved with his reckless thunder.
She writhed, twisted, arched to meet him.
Her fingers curled into his shoulders, stroked his back, clenched and stroked, eased and curled and clenched into his muscled bronze flesh again and again.
His mouth left hers, caressed her throat, her breast, her lips again…
then sucked her nipple. She arched as the world rocked violently, swept fiercely into a hunger that demanded satisfaction regardless of all else.
Then it seemed forever and yet too quickly…
that a climax exploded upon her with a shattering force.
She was barely aware of him for long moments, even as his body continued to thunder into her own until he was rocked with the fury of the fruition of their passion.
She lay drenched, and suddenly cold, for he withdrew from her, lifting his weight from her.
He drew her against him then, and his voice was husky as he whispered, “I did miss you.”
She didn’t reply, but she remained against him. She realized that she didn’t want her marriage annulled, and yet…
She was becoming more and more aware of why she had fought Sloan for so long. It was far too easy to want him. Far too easy to admire him, and…to fall in love.
And far too easy to be hurt.
She shifted slightly, moving away from him. Caring about Sloan was very frightening indeed. She couldn’t help the little tinges of jealousy that clawed at her heart.
Yet she was the one who was with him. As his wife. Marlene Howard was not.
She lay very still, her heart and soul in a strange tempest.
Love itself hurt.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Sloan demanded softly.
She shook her head. She couldn’t possibly describe her fears to him.
“Nothing, I just…I don’t know. I just don’t want—”
“What?”
“Nothing. I’m so tired, Sloan, please…”
He didn’t press her, and exhaustion finally allowed her to sleep.