Authors: Sylvia McDaniel
"No ..." She looked at him, bewildered, anxious. "I think I should go dress."
She stood and smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt absently while gazing at him, a stunned expression on her face. Then she turned and hurried from the garden almost at a run, as if the feelings he had aroused were chasing her.
The urge to run after her and finish what he'd started was strong, yet Connor resisted.
Candlelight shimmered over the table. The smell of succulent roast filled the air, but Alexandra felt removed and distant from the gay atmosphere. Her mind was trapped in the memory of this afternoon's kiss in the garden. The smell of gardenias and the taste of Connor filled her senses, holding her captive, refusing to let her go.
He could have taken her right there on that cold stone bench. His consoling words of comfort and gentle reassurance had all but melted away her resistance. She had been past caring, only consumed with the need to feel him crushed against her breasts, his hand touching her innermost self.
But he had stopped! He had backed away when her starving body craved his touch, was ready to surrender to the feelings he evoked.
Why had she suddenly been willing to succumb to Connor, after resisting him for weeks?
She glanced across the table as he laughed at something her Uncle Sydney said. Connor's eyes met hers. He smiled, and she felt a jolt of sensuality race up her spine.
From the first night they met, he had reminded her of Gordon. Yet she was slowly discovering Connor was different. It was those subtle differences that were gradually eroding her resistance. Connor wasn't coldly calculating. He wasn't cruel and demanding. He was charming to a fault, and deep down, he genuinely cared about people.
And though as a bachelor he'd had the reputation of a rake, there was a softer, gentler side that only his sister and now Alexandra knew of.
A side that was often hidden.
A side she had experienced this afternoon in the garden.
No one had shown her this kind of consideration. No one had ever held her while she cried, vowed that everything would be all right. Connor had done three nice things for her since their marriage, and she didn't know what to make of his kindness.
But the biggest difference in her life with Connor was that she had never been attracted to Gordon as she was drawn to Connor. It was exciting, yet unnerving.
Until their marriage a month ago, she had never planned on being involved with a man again. And even since the marriage, she'd schemed to leave as soon as she received enough royalties to supplement the trust fund from her late aunt.
Yet the prospect didn't seem as exhilarating now. The idea of leaving Connor and Suzanne wasn't as simple as before. Her dreams of living independently of any man weren't quite so compelling. She didn't know what she wanted anymore. She liked her life here at River Bend, but she felt so confused.
The idea of this marriage working seemed ludicrous, but part of her was attracted to the thought. Part of her wanted to remain, to become Mrs. Manning in every sense of the word.
Part of her wondered what it would be like to make love to Connor. Would he be slow and sensual, caring for her feelings?
She'd sworn she never wanted to experience sex again, but somehow images of Connor and herself together in bed kept popping up in her mind. The thought brought a blush to her cheeks, and she could not help but glance across the table, her eyes meeting his again. Their gazes locked. The corner of his lips turned up in a sensuous smile.
Was she out of her mind for even considering making love to Connor? Hadn't she made a vow that this man would never get into her bed? Yet it was almost a month into their marriage, and all she could think about was the way his hands felt on her body, the taste of his lips, and the sound of his voice. He was intelligent, warm, and caring, nothing at all like what she had expected.
Part of her wanted to finish what he had begun in the garden this afternoon. She wanted... what she could not have.
"Dear, you seem a thousand miles away tonight. Are you feeling well?" Aunt Clara
asked,
her voice full of concern.
Alexandra shook herself. "I'm sorry, Aunt Clara. I've ... I've a slight headache."
"You've hardly touched your food. Leona is going to be displeased with you," Connor admonished, a frown furrowing his brow.
"It's delicious. I'm just not hungry."
"Leona is an excellent cook. If only I could lure her away from you," Aunt Clara vowed.
"Not a chance. That woman has been here since my mother hired her. I don't plan on losing her." He paused, his gaze lingering on Alexandra."In fact, all of the women in my house are safely protected."
Aunt Clara laughed delightfully. "Oh, I think this marriage is going to work out splendidly. I'm looking forward to seeing little ones running around our homes again."
"Aunt Clara!" Alexandra admonished, feeling as if her aunt was reading her thoughts as a blush crept up Alexandra's cheeks.
"Well, it is possible, dear. Lord knows it would please your father. It could very well be the next time we see him."
Connor raised his brows. "He doesn't visit often?"
Alexandra shook her head. "As long as everything is arranged in a nice, neat order in his world, and everyone is going along with his plans, then he's happy. We will not hear from him until someone, or something, displeases him."
"He's not very demonstrative or receptive to family," Aunt Clara said. "We might see him at Christmas. But probably not until we hear the sound of a baby crying. Then he'll come to see the newest member of his family and bring stock receipts in the child's name."
"It is going to be a while before we see him then," Alexandra pronounced, looking towards her husband.
"You never know," Aunt Clara
said,
a twinkle in her eye.
Alexandra winced.
So many of her past dreams seemed within her grasp if she would just give in to her desire.
But could she finish her task, reveal Gordon in all his true nature, and be Connor's wife at the same time? More than anything, could she take the chance of risking her heart once again?
"Let's move to the parlor and the ladies can have a cup of tea while we indulge in a brandy, Sydney,'' Connor said, bringing Alexandra back to the present as he pushed away from the table. He moved to assist his wife, pulling out her chair.
Connor took her hand and placed it on the crook of his arm. A heated tremor went through her at his touch. She caught a whiff of his spicy cologne and glanced at his lips. She wanted to taste them again, to see if they could work the same magic as this afternoon, to feel his hands on her breasts again and experience the feelings only Connor aroused.
"Is your headache any better, Sweet?'' he asked, gazing down into her eyes.
"I'm all right," Alexandra replied, surprised he had inquired about her health, amazed at his gentleness.
They walked into the parlor, and he sat her on one of the cherry love seats she had recently refurbished. Her aunt sat beside her."Your husband seems to be entranced with you, my dear. He's hardly been able to keep his eyes off you all night."
Alexandra smiled. "Aunt Clara, you've always been a romantic. This marriage is nothing more than a union of convenience."
"Dear, many marriages start that way, and quickly change into something much more. I daresay it would be something worth hoping for."
"I don't know, Aunt Clara. I really don't know what I want anymore. Only a few months ago I was so sure of everything."
Aunt Clara chuckled. "Just when you think you have life figured out, something changes and suddenly, you don't know what to do."
"Did you love Uncle Sydney when you married him?"
"Child, I thought I did, but it was not real love, only infatuation. The real love came when I realized that even with his faults he was a good man, one who would stand by me. And believe me, your Uncle Sydney has his good points and bad, just as we all do."
Alexandra could not help but smile. "He certainly likes his cigars and brandy."
"And horses and a good card game. I worry about his health. He's not as young as he used to be, but he thinks he can still do the same things now that he did at twenty."
Connor cleared his throat."You ladies have your heads together whispering. Do tell us what is so fascinating."
"Men.
What else? You've kept women intrigued for centuries. Why should now be any different?'' Aunt Clara leaned back and spread her skirts, then reached for her cup of tea. "Now that you are in the family, Connor, you will find out how frightfully blunt I can be."
Uncle Sydney shook his head. "She's right, Connor. The woman has a
sharpedged
tongue. But she's usually correct, especially when it comes to people."
Alexandra watched the interplay between her aunt and uncle. They were comfortable with one another, yet certain glances passed between them. Sometimes teasing, sometimes reassuring, and sometimes a certain light would reflect from her uncle, and her aunt always seemed to respond with a smile that held promise.
She could never remember her parents behaving like this. Her aunt and uncle had shown her the way a marriage should be, yet it was after her own failed attempt that she recognized love had been one of the many missing elements from her first union.
Her aunt set her teacup down. "We really must be going, Alexandra, dear. The dinner was excellent, but I know you're not feeling well and your uncle always rises before our roosters even think about crowing."
"I do not. I stay in bed until I hear Old Jim
crow
at least twice."
"That's just so that Cook can get up and have your breakfast started. Otherwise you'd be up before him."
Sydney grinned. "Sometimes I am."
"You are an impossible man," her aunt retorted.
Her uncle smiled. "At least I'm not boring."
"Never boring, Sydney.
But there are days I'd liked to try dull just once."
***
After a long soak in a tub of hot water had eased her head and soothed her jagged nerves, Alexandra put on her silkiest nightgown and robe. Though she was tired, she felt restless—restless and edgy enough that she knew sleep would be delayed for hours.
A sultry breeze blew in through the windows, billowing die drapes into a seductive dance with the wind. Lightning flashed in the eastern sky, heralding a storm somewhere over the ocean.
Alexandra stood gazing out at the stars that filled the night sky, wondering what her mother would have said about her life. There were times when she wanted to sit down and talk with her mother. Ask her questions about life, marriage, and how she had dealt with her steely father.
A knock sounded on her door, ending her reverie. "Yes?"
"It's me," Connor said from the other side of the door. "May I come in?"
Good Lord, the man had actually knocked. Maybe there was hope for his manners after all. She turned from the window, her heart tripping with anticipation. After this afternoon in the garden, she shouldn't let him in. But she wanted to. She needed to see him again. She needed to know if he was as affected by this afternoon's kiss as she was.
"It's open," she said, her voice trembling slightly.
He strolled into the room, his hands in the pockets of his robe. The material was barely held together by a fabric belt that was half looped over itself, covering his silk pajamas. His hair was damp, as if he'd just come from his bath. A span of muscle sprinkled with dark chest hair showed through the top half of his smoking jacket. The urge to run her hands across his naked skin was almost unbearable.
"I thought I would check on you, see if your headache was any better," he said.
"It's much better, thank you." She moved back to the window, her gaze returning to the night. "I was looking out at the stars. They remind me of a fine chandelier, the light twinkling off a crystal moon."
Connor walked over and stood
beside
her gazing out into the night. "When I was a child, this room was my mother's, and I would come to her anytime I became frightened. We often sat in the dark, looking out at the stars."
She glanced back at him. "Your mother died when you were quite young, didn't she?"
"Mother died when Suzanne was born. I was twelve."
Alexandra turned back to the window. "I still miss my mother and think of her often."
"I still miss mine," he said, moving behind her.
He wasn't touching her, but then, he didn't have to. She could feel his presence. She could feel the heat radiating from his skin, and wanted to lean back into the warmth against his naked skin and be consumed by his fire.
She ran her hands down her arms, clasping them under her breasts, which tingled with awareness. Since this afternoon in the garden, she had been restless and hungry. Hungry for his touch, his lips, and though it seemed entirely sexual, she knew it was more than lust.
Much, much more.
It was hard to ignore the man's obvious wit and charm. He made her laugh. He had protected her, defended her, and even tried to help her. It was more than anyone had ever done for her in her life, and she was going to repay him by bringing scandal down on his family and sullying the good name he had given her.