Chapter 14 #2
Claire darted forward. She had to get to Penelope.
But the crowd shifted as a new melody began, and Penelope disappeared from view.
A heartbeat later, the bodies before her shifted, revealing her young charge once more.
Her gaze connected with Claire’s. In her frightened blue eyes Claire saw a plea for help before the young woman stepped back into the crowd and was lost.
With an anguished cry, Claire hurried through the dancers to the spot where Penelope had stood moments before.
She was gone.
Claire searched the crowd frantically and found no sight of the girl.
She breathed a desperate sigh. Had it been her own imagination that tortured her now?
Had she wanted this whole nightmare of kidnapping, blackmail, and lies to end so badly that she had conjured the sight of Penelope in this very room?
Jules joined Claire at her side. His hand went to her waist, pulling her against him. “What is it?”
“I thought I saw someone I knew,” she said, her words raw. Come back, Penelope. Come back. Oh sweet heavens, I’m so sorry you are caught in all of this . . .
Claire staggered, suddenly feeling hollow and lifeless and sad.
Then she felt herself being swept up into Jules’s arms. He pulled her against his chest, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, indulging herself in the scent of him, the feel of him.
He was a safe harbor in a storm that suddenly didn’t make sense.
Penelope.
Curious eyes watched them, and a few suggestive comments were tossed their way as they left the chamber. Instead of heading toward the tower bedroom, they went the other way. “My chamber?” she asked.
“You no longer sleep there, Claire. From this night on, you will sleep in my bed, next to me.”
Claire tried with every fiber of her being to ignore the haunting memory of Penelope’s face. No matter how hard she tried, the effect of seeing the young woman’s face, or imagining that she had, left a heaviness inside her.
“You have nothing to say about these new arrangements?” he asked teasingly.
“I hope to not be saying anything before long,” she replied and was rewarded with a grin.
He stopped outside his bedchamber door and pressed the latch open with his elbow. Slipping inside, they moved to the huge bed in the center of the room, where Jules set her down on the sheets that had been sprinkled with pink rose petals.
The memory of Penelope’s face slid through Claire’s mind, and she thrust it away. “Your doing?” Claire picked up a delicate petal and brought it to her nose, inhaling the heady, sweet scent. She looked up at him, then her breath hitched at the spark flaring in his blue eyes.
“Most likely ’twas Jane. I hear I have you to thank for finding the roses amongst all the weeds.” Jules sat on the bed beside her and, slowly, he removed the pins from her hair, allowing the length to fall to her shoulders and down her back.
“Your hair is glorious. You should leave it loose about your shoulders, not tied back and hidden from sight,” he said, coiling a long strand around his finger and bringing the length to his lips.
Claire watched as he intimately caressed her hair.
An enveloping warmth burned at her core until she grew breathless just watching him.
The sensation heightened as he traced his fingers up her arm, exploring her as though for the first time.
Then his fingers vanished and his lips took their place, until he nestled into the curve of her exposed neck.
“You’re trembling,” he said in the gentlest of voices.
“I know,” she admitted with a nervous tremor in her voice. “I’m not sure why.”
His lips left her neck to work their way up her jawline to her ear, leaving a trail of heat behind.
“Don’t you?” His fingers slipped around her back and started plucking one by one the small pearls that fastened her dress.
“It’s because unlike the last time we were together, this time it will mean something. ”
She stiffened. “You—”
“Were right. It meant something even then.” He captured her lips in a hard, insistent kiss and did not stop until the tension in her body vanished and she was breathless with anticipation despite the disjointed emotions that were tumbling through her.
He eased the silken fabric away from her shoulders, leaving her sheer chemise behind.
Slowly, he eased her dress down her ribs, across her hips, and onto the floor.
Her shoes and stockings joined her dress, until she was clad in only her thin chemise.
He eased off the bed and gathered her gown, then set it on a nearby chair before he released his belt. The fabric of his tartan tumbled to the floor. She expected him to come to her wearing his shirt. Instead, he removed it, leaving him gloriously naked and aroused before her.
His body was perfect, and she wondered for a heartbeat why he had left the garment on the first time they had made love.
But the thought vanished a moment later as he moved toward her.
Golden candlelight bathed his flesh in a shimmering light as he strode back to her, confident and strong, then settled on the bed beside her.
Slowly, he eased the edge of her chemise up her legs, over her thighs, her chest, and finally over her head.
The fabric caressed her skin, leaving her tingling and wanting as she lay bare before him.
Desire reflected in his eyes, pounded in her heart, and filled the room with need.
He put his hand on her arm, his thumb stroking soothingly.
Moments ticked by as he looked into her face.
His eyes, dark with a promise she could not read, held hers, until he bent his head and his lips found hers once more.
A deep-seated ache burned through her at the feel of warm, strong hands sliding over her bare arms, across her stomach, to her hip.
Instinctively, she turned into his caress, her body on fire with need.
Closing her eyes, she breathed in the fresh, masculine scent that was only his.
She ran her hands through the silk of his tawny hair, delighting in the way the waves curled around her fingers.
His hands ran possessively over her breast, cupping its fullness, then teasing her nipple to taut awareness.
He brought his mouth down and grazed the sensitive bud while his hands moved to the other.
She moaned as he increased the pressure.
Her hands slipped across his back, exploring his flesh, when she suddenly stopped. The ripple of scarred flesh greeted her fingertips. Her chest tightened as she ran her hands up and down the multiple lacerations that marked his back. “Who did this to you?”
This time there was no shame, no apology, no fear in his eyes. “My jailers. They were convinced they could whip the evil out of me.”
“There is no evil in you,” her voice was ragged at the thought of what he had suffered.
“I used to believe there was.” He shrugged. “I still do to some extent.”
“I understand, but know that to me you are perfect, Jules.” His name fell from her lips in a breathless whisper of longing.
She stared into his eyes, hoping he saw the truth.
Proving her point, she slid her hands over the rigid muscles of his chest, watching as his muscles coiled and flexed beneath her touch.
She brushed her fingers against his nipples, then brought her tongue down to flick the sensitive bud as he had done and was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath from him.
His hands stilled against her back as she continued sliding her hands lower until she stroked the length of his arousal, felt it pulse beneath her touch.
His hands splayed against her back as he held her to him, then shifted her beneath him, his rigid shaft poised at her entrance.
Their gazes met. Across the few inches of heated shadows between them, their gazes held as she slid her arms up around his shoulders and Jules eased into her tight passage until he filled her with heat and strength.
She welcomed his warmth, his weight, as he slowly drew back with agonizing slowness and controlled intent before he surged slowly forward again.
The friction was exquisite and intense as sensation after sensation rippled through her. Claire felt something wild and primitive building inside her as his slow caress continued. This time between them was different, though just as pleasurable; this time was more intense and all-consuming.
His rhythmic thrusts accelerated their tempo as he drove into her again and again, sending pleasure streaking through her in endless waves.
She arched into him, in a fevered need to take him with her into that sweet abyss.
Ecstasy overtook her, and she cried out her joy.
At the sound, he released a groan and gave in to his own release.
With earth-shattering glory, they climaxed together and tumbled headlong into the abyss.
After a time, they floated back to reality in each other’s arms. When some of their strength returned, Jules moved onto his side, taking her with him.
Her hair spilled over his chest in a red, silken waterfall.
He lifted a hand to smooth it back from her face and gazed into her eyes.
“Even after all my searching, I have no idea why, exactly, you came into my life. But I am thankful. You belong here with me.”
Despite the satiation flowing through her limbs, Claire tensed and wished with everything inside her for a future together. Tears came to her eyes at the thought of what she had to do. He would never forgive her.
She would never forgive herself.
“Claire, why are you crying?”
She offered him a tremulous smile. “Because I am happy.” The image of Penelope came to her once more. She let her tears fall. After tonight, she would never be happy again.
With a heartbreaking smile, Jules rolled her onto her back and devoured her with his mouth, claimed her with his hands, and then his body.
Claire let him ease her sorrow as she gathered up every touch, every kiss, every caress, in the hopes they would get her through the rest of her days—days that would be dark and alone.