Defiant Impostor (38 page)

***

"Thank you, Prue. Everything looks absolutely
wonderful," Susanna said sincerely, admiring the exquisite table set with
a lacy cloth, gleaming silver service, and fine bone china. A dozen tall white
candles graced the candelabra placed off to one side, surrounded by a fragrant
wreath of blood-red roses and delicate baby's breath freshly picked from the
garden.

"My pleasure, Mistress Camille. Anything to help
you and Master Thornton make up with each other."

"Are you sure our supper will stay warm under
those lids?" Susanna asked doubtfully, paying no heed to the cook's
reference to her and Adam's quarrel two days ago. She had grown accustomed to
the fact that the servants were just as anxious to see things resolved between
them as she was. "I'm not exactly sure when Adam will be home, although it
should be soon." She glanced at the mantel clock. "It's already
eight-thirty. I can't imagine that he'd want to be traveling the roads for long
in the dark."

"He'll get here, Mistress Camille, and don't you
worry none about the food. It'll keep just fine. My herbed veal pie will taste
just as good steaming hot or lukewarm, same as those buttered greens and new
potatoes. And the flavors will shine through much better when that peach
cobbler has a chance to cool a little. Now if there's anything else you'll be
needing—"

"No, Prue, this looks like everything. You go get
yourself a good night's rest. You certainly deserve it after preparing this
feast."

"No trouble at all, Mistress Camille. Good
evening, then."

After the cook left the softly candlelit room, Susanna
settled herself in a stuffed chair as comfortably as her taut nerves would
allow, and picked up a book of poetry.

She was not surprised when her eyes could not focus on
the page. She was both excited and apprehensive, as she had been all day. She
had missed Adam desperately, more than she could have ever thought possible,
and she couldn't wait until he was home.

Would he still be angry with her? Could she hope he
might be glad to see her?

After another futile attempt at reading, Susanna set
down the book. Leaning her head back against the plush brocade, she closed her
eyes and listened impatiently as the minutes ticked by.

***

His heart thumping hard, Adam closed the bedroom door
silently behind him, and stepped carefully over to the chair where Susanna was
sleeping, her head resting upon the arm cushion and her legs tucked beneath
her.

God, how he had missed her! He could not deny it. These
past two days without her had been sheer hell.

Despite how angry he had been at her when he left
Briarwood late Wednesday afternoon, though his temper had admittedly been
soothed by his satisfactory exchange with Ertha, every mile that had taken him
further away from her had been an agony, each night he had spent alone the
worst torture. The harder he tried to suppress his love for her, the stronger
and more insistent it became. This one emotion was a thousand times more
powerful than the misgivings, distrust, and cold rationale he had pitted
against it. Why, then, wasn't he willing to accept his feelings now that he was
finally home with her?

Thrusting away his perplexing dilemma, Adam swept his
gaze over her hungrily.

She looked so achingly beautiful in what remained of
the sputtering candlelight, her silky hair spilling over the cushion like a
cascade of burnished gold, her lovely features half-cast in shadow, her body
lushly curved beneath her jade-green dressing gown. He longed to touch her. But
he resisted the impulse, reluctantly deciding to wait until he was ready for
bed.

Leaving her side, he noticed for the first time the
prettily set table and the candles which had burned down to tiny stubs, only a
few tiny flames still flickering. How long had she waited supper for him, even
when he had told her not to? It was now almost midnight.

He had been delayed in Norfolk by a merchant important
to his plan who had gone out of town and returned only late this afternoon.
After concluding his business, Adam had caught the last ferry to Old Point
Comfort, then had ridden at a devil's pace to Yorktown, where he had stopped
briefly for some food and to speak with his attorney, who would be accompanying
him to Raven's Point on Monday morning. By then it had already been half past
ten, and he had thought Susanna would have long gone to bed. Instead, she had
waited up for him . . . why?

Swamped by suspicion whenever he questioned her
motives, Adam quietly stripped off his clothes and washed at the basin. It felt
good to cleanse the dust and sweat of travel from his body.

The last thing he did was remove the note she had
written him from his coat pocket and set it inside the top drawer of his
wardrobe. The paper was a bit worse for wear, since he had balled it up after
first reading it, but then he had smoothed it out carefully and kept the note
upon his person for the remainder of his journey. Why, he didn't know,
especially when that niggling suspicion crept into his mind every time he
reread it—

Adam grimaced as the drawer grated loudly while
closing, and he glanced over his shoulder to find Susanna stirring in the
chair.

"What . . . Adam? Is that you?"

He was at her side in a heartbeat. He lifted her gently
in his arms as she gazed at him drowsily, and carried her to the bed.

"Shhh, I didn't mean to wake you," he said,
throwing back the covers and settling her upon the mattress. "Go back to
sleep. We have to get up early tomorrow—"

"I don't want to sleep," she insisted, her
eyes like liquid emeralds in the dim candlelight. "I want to hear about
your trip . . . I've been waiting for you. What time is it?"

"Midnight."

"Oh, Adam, Prue prepared us a wonderful meal, but
she had it brought up at eight. It must be stone-cold by now."

"That's all right. I ate in Yorktown. Did she
bring us some wine?"

"Yes" —she began to scoot out of bed—
"I'll get it for you."

"No, stay there. I'll get it. Would you like a
glass?"

She nodded, then gasped softly, her eyes moving over
him. She'd been so dazed from waking abruptly that she hadn't noticed until now
that he was naked.

Smiling at her reaction, Adam poured them each a glass
of wine and returned to the bed, knowing the wine wasn't all he was bringing to
her. He wondered if she would be equally astonished by his hard erection, for
his desire had been keenly triggered the moment she had said she didn't want to
sleep. Nor did he, now that she was fully awake. Sleep was the last thing on
his mind.

"Your wine, my lady," he said teasingly,
touching his glass to hers and then enjoying a long draft.

Right now, he didn't want to think of anything but the
sweet passion they would soon share. Her dressing gown had fallen slightly
open, revealing the full, sensual curve of a creamy breast, and his desire
surged even hotter as he realized she wasn't wearing undergarments.

"You'd best take a sip quickly," he bade her
huskily when she seemed content to stare at him, a blush warming her cheeks
when her wide gaze fell to his fully aroused shaft. "Before I am forced to
take the glass from you. I don't want you to spill wine on the bed when I join
you beneath the sheets."

She took a deep drink then, her expression becoming
wantonly playful as she guessed the intent behind his words.

"I thought you might tell me about your trip
first, Adam."

"There's nothing to tell. I went and now I'm home.
With you."

Susanna shivered with anticipation, exulting that he
actually seemed glad to be with her again. He certainly wasn't angry. Her
fingers were trembling so hard that she found it difficult to raise the glass
to her lips. She shakily managed one last sip before he set their glasses on
the nearby table. She was surprised when he didn't readily join her in bed as
he had threatened, but instead held out his hand to her. She looked at him
questioningly.

"Stand up, my love. I want to undress you."

She started, hope flaring in her breast, for this was
the first time he had spoken the endearment since their wedding night. How far
she had come in her feelings toward him since she had defiantly demanded that
he never call her "my love" again! Did she dare hope that his own
feelings might be softening toward her?

"You will have an easy time of it tonight,
Adam," she said softly, her own desire flaring red-hot as she laid her
much smaller hand in his callused one and he pulled her up to stand in front of
him. "I'm wearing no stays, no chemise, not even any linen drawers.
Nothing but my robe."

"I know," he murmured, his free hand
disappearing inside her silken dressing gown. Running his palm over her breast,
he squeezed it gently. "I had a clue when I saw a hint of bare skin."

"You're very observant," she replied, her
breath snagging as his thumb grazed her roused nipple, then circled it slowly.

"Always around you, Camille."

Wishing he would call her by her real name during such
intimate moments, Susanna nonetheless knew it was a vain hope. He had sworn
never to call her that again, and except for that one time at the height of his
pleasure, she sensed that he had every intention of sticking to his word. Then
again, she supposed she wouldn't mind so much if he continued to use his
familiar endearment, even if he might not really mean it . . . yet.

"Your skin is so smooth. So soft," he said in
a low, stirring voice, slipping her dressing gown from her shoulders, only to
use it to catch her around the waist and draw her to him. "I love to feel
your body touching mine."

"And I, yours." Susanna sighed as her breasts
pressed against his broad, sleek chest, finding immeasurable pleasure in his
hard muscles. His body was so powerfully built, like sculpted rock, and she
always felt so protected in his embrace. He allowed her robe to fall to the
floor, the silk drifting like cool water down the back of her legs, and her
skin puckered with goose bumps.

"You're chilled. Here, let me warm you . . ."
he whispered, his strong hands sliding up her thighs and over her bottom,
lingering there to squeeze and caress her, then traveling along her spine, his
fingers splaying wide to cover more of her as he added teasingly, "while
you warm me." The hardness of his desire pressed urgently into her silken
woman's hair. "Hold me there, my love. I want you to touch me . . . I want
to feel your hands wrap tight around me."

Delighting in his provocative request, Susanna explored
first the sinewed hollows below his hips which she found so fascinating, then
she slipped her hands between their bodies and after tugging very lightly at
the crisp curls she found there, she boldly curved her fingers around his thick
shaft. She smiled as it leapt under her touch. She knew how much her intimate
fondling pleased him, and on their wedding night when he had demanded that
there be no sexual shyness between them, he had shown her what he liked most.

Cupping in one hand the warm, swollen parts of him that
hung below, she began to slowly pump with the other, back and forth, again and
again, feeling him grow even more rigid beneath her rhythmic caresses. As a
groan came from deep in his chest, she stroked a little faster, a little
harder.

"Like this, Adam?" she queried softly,
moaning herself as he continued to race his hands over her body. She paused
only to wipe the drops of wetness from the tip of his smooth, silken shaft with
her palm and then slide her slippery hand anew down the huge length of him. Her
other hand lightly squeezed him, her fingertips rubbing the acutely sensitive
space directly behind that which she cupped so gently. "And this?"

"Woman, you've learned far too well," came
his ragged response, his body beginning to tremble against hers. "So well
that I cannot withstand any more of your magic. Now it is my turn to give you
such pleasure."

Susanna gasped as he pushed her gently back against the
bed. She guessed what was to come and grew almost light-headed with
anticipation. He captured her mouth in a long, deep kiss, his tongue tasting of
wine, then whispered against her lips, "Sit down and then lie back, my
love. I want you to open your beautiful body to me. I want to see you . . . all
of you."

As she did what he asked, in his eagerness he slipped
his hand between her lower legs which still dangled off the bed and drew them
wide apart, then placed one knee between her thighs so he could bend over her.
She stared up into his eyes, which were like burning black coals in the hazy
light, thinking he was the most arrestingly handsome of men and how glad she
was to be his wife. Then his lips found hers once more, his tongue plunging
passionately into her mouth at the same moment his fingertips slid into her wet
woman's softness, and her thoughts scattered into fiery slivers of charged
sensation.

"Your skin tastes so sweet," he murmured thickly
as his mouth trailed a molten path down her throat to her breasts, where he
drew hungrily on her erect nipples. "And you smell so damned sweet."
As his tongue flicked and tormented her, his teeth nipping her lightly, all the
while his fingers kept up their wild assault. Then he left the bed and knelt on
the floor. Cupping his hands beneath her bottom, he roughly pulled her toward
him. "But I find this hot, fragrant place the sweetest seduction of
all."

Susanna almost screamed as he lifted her lower body to
his face and buried his tongue inside her, then speared it upwards and circled
the tingling heart of her desire.

Tossing her head, her hands gripping his massive
shoulders, she began to buck beneath the rapturous torture and begged him to
stop. If he heard her, he didn't listen, or else the breathless words flooding
from her mouth were an incoherent jumble.