Emerald Desire (Emerald Trilogy) (31 page)

 

Dera splashed water over her body and rinsed off the soap. She stepped out of the tub and dried herself, liking the feel of the soft towel against her bare skin. She wrapped the towel around her and walked towards the full length mirror. Candle light cast a soft light across her face and her body glowed.

 

A slight noise caught her attention and she startled to see Quint's reflection in the mirror. She turned to find him standing inside the veranda doorway. He was dressed in the way she always remembered him, a white shirt opened at the neck, tight fitting breeches and dark boots. His hair was wild from the wind that whipped around the house.

 

He entered the room, silently. Dera blushed because something in Quint's face brought a rapid heat to her body. He waited, not two feet from her, dark searching eyes taking in every curve of her. Somehow she knew that the past weeks of tension had been leading up to his moment. But the long days hadn't softened Dera's anger and resentment.

 

She pulled the corners of the linen tightly together. "What is it you want? Can't you knock at the front door like everyone else? Must you sneak into my bedroom?" she asked.

 

"This is my bedroom by right. You live in my house, Dera," he said huskily. Before she could think of a retort, he stepped towards her, taking the towel from her hands and allowing it to fall to the floor. “Don’t cover yourself, you’re beautiful.”

 

She attempted to retrieve it, but he took her hands in his and looked at her. Her whole body ached with desire. She gasped at the raw passion which grew in her. "Don't handle me so," she said shakily.

 

"Stop fighting me, Dera. I can't sleep because I'm always thinking about you." He pulled her to him, but she struggled.

 

She smelled whiskey on him and wrinkled her nose. "I don't want you, Quint. All is finished between us."

 

"You’re my wife and nothing is finished between us.” He reached up and loosened her hair so that it tumbled around her shoulders, cascading down her back like a dark waterfall. He enfolded her in his arms. His hands sent quivers of delight down her spine when he kneaded her buttocks with expert fingers. He kissed her softly around the edges of her lips, and she found she was sinking into the warmth of him, wanting him again despite everything that had happened. A strangled sob escaped her as desire rose in her, burning through her.

 

"Dera, Dera, you know you love the way I make you feel," he breathed.

 

Yes, she thought, she loved their merging, but she detested the way he thought he could take her whenever he desired. With a force of will, she pushed him away. "I want you to go, Quint."

 

"I wish to make things up to you."

 

"Sneaking into my bedroom and pleasuring yourself with me won't help matters," she said. "I paid my debt by marrying you and you made it plain how you feel about me. I don't want you to touch me.”

 

"You're lying. Your body tells me that you do. Can't you ever tell the truth?"

 

She did want him, desire still burned in her, but she didn't want the pain he always brought her. "I would like you to leave. For once, please do as I ask."

 

"Ah, the haughty lady issuing commands, heh? Well, we'll just see how cold you really are. "

 

Before her startled eyes, he began to undress. He threw off his shirt and quickly took off his boots before he reached for his belt.

 

"What are you doing?" she asked.

 

"I'm going to make love to you, my lady wife, whether you desire it or not. I desire you and I shall have you. You're mine, Dera. I have a legal claim on you, but no matter how much you protest, your body knows its master.”

 

"You're mad!"

 

"Aye, but you've made me that way." He completed taking off his pants and stood naked and magnificent before her.

 

"Don't touch me, Quint, because this time I'll fight you."

 

"Fighting adds to the pleasure, my love."

 

He grabbed her and clasped her to him, then lifted her in his arms and placed her upon the bed. She tried to strike him, but he held her tightly against his hard body. His mouth devoured hers, demanding and hot in its conquest. She stiffened at his assault, then lay quietly beneath him. He lifted his head and grinned at her, believing that she was about to give in to him. When his lips pressed gently against hers, she shoved at him.

 

He sighed. "Still fighting, are you? Well, all of my life I've been fighting, so go on, beat me with your fists but the hatred in your eyes only excites me more, Dera. I may as well fight you, too.” With both hands, he grabbed her arms and lifted them high above her head. She struggled, unable to break his solid hold. Then he thrust her thighs apart with his knee. "I want you, Dera. I ache to feel myself inside you.”

 

"No," she moaned and tried to stop his invasion of her body, but it was impossible. Quint was stronger than she remembered and she expected him to plunge into her. Her arms ached from the painful way he held them, but suddenly she was no longer aware of the pain. She only noticed that he held himself rigidly, at war with himself, as if he battled his own demons. This was the man she loved and would love until the day she died. Why was she fighting him? She could barely think as his bare chest against her breasts warmed her and excited her. Without meaning to she whispered his name and willingly parted her legs in invitation.

 

"Dera, my love, my sweet,” he groaned and pushed inside of her.

 

She was helpless under his hand, aflame with desire for a man she shouldn't want, for a man who didn't know she had always belonged to him. Expertly he touched the moist warm area between her thighs, and she molded herself against his probing hand. Suddenly, her arms were free and she clasped him to her, feeling the hard muscles of his back rippling beneath her fingertips.

 

Turning on his back, he lifted her above him. She straddled his lower torso and guided him further into her. The breath caught in her throat as the pleasurable sensations deep within her began to build. Quint pulled her head down and kissed her deeply, thrusting in time with her movements.

 

The skies broke. Rain poured down and pelted the rooftops with hailstones, but neither one heard anything but their own cries of passion.

 

The mounting heat inside her built toward a fiery explosion. Dera slowed her movements, but Quint held her hips firmly in place and thrust into her. When the white heat of passion overtook her, she cried out with pleasure as the hot seed of his body entered her.

 

The cataclysm engulfed them, lifting them high, then gently bringing them down. They lay together until both grew quiet. He stroked her hair and she nestled against him, needing to be even closer than she already was. She smiled at him, wishing to say something, but mere words were inadequate to express what she felt. Sleep began to overtake her and she fell into a blissful slumber.

 

 

 

Dera came awake slowly. The north wind whistled outside the house. She huddled into the depths of the bed and reached for Quint, but found only a cold emptiness. Her eyes opened. The room was in darkness and she was alone.

 

Quint had left without a word. Or had she dreamed he was with her? But no, her body still glowed from his touch. A wave of loneliness assailed her until she heard a noise and felt the bed creak. Then she felt the warmth of Quint's arms around her as he searched for her lips.

 

"You're awake," he whispered.

 

"I thought you had left me." Her voice shook, betraying her fear.

 

He tilted her face and peered into her eyes. "Dera, I've broken promises to you in the past, but I never meant to be cruel. However, I'll make a promise and this time I hope you'll be believing me. I will never leave you again.”

 

Her breath came in little gasps. Never had she expected this from him. "Then you'll be moving into the house, sharing my bed?"

 

"Aye, if that’s what you want.” His answer was so quiet she barely heard him.

 


Oh, I do want that. I love you, Quint. My heart has always belonged to you. I must tell you about the time you were arrested…”

 

"No! We'll not talk of it.” He placed his fingers over her lips. “Our life together begins at this moment. This night is ours and no ghosts from the past will destroy it.”

 

He pushed her into the depths of the bed, his hands eagerly cupping her breasts and gliding down her body. "Love me, Dera," he whispered between kisses. “Your love is all I’ve ever wanted.”

 

She responded to his caresses, her pulses pounding, and this time Quint made slow, leisurely love to her.

 

Later, she listened to his rhythmic breathing and thought that this was how it should always be. No more running and hiding as they had been forced to do in Ireland. Now, she was his wife, something she had wanted from the first moment she saw him. She smiled in the darkness to recall that Mrs. Flannery's prophecy had come true at last.

 

It was only later, as she drifted into sleep, that she realized Quint hadn't told her that he loved her, too.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

 

Rosette walked into
the parlor, the sweet smell of lavender enveloping her. She saw Quint sitting on the couch reviewing some documents. Her eyes never tired of drinking in his powerful physique, his heart stopping face. She loved him and felt sure no other man would ever fire her body with the same desire.

 

He glanced up at her entrance. "Good morning, Rosette."

 


I see you're busy already," she said, seating herself opposite him.

 

"General O'Reilly leaves for Cuba in a few weeks, and I've much business to finish before the new governor arrives."

 

His words were much too curt for her liking. In fact, he had failed to notice she wore her hair down and had taken pains with each curl. The last weeks had been hell for her. Living under the same roof with him, not being able to touch him, was unbearable for her. Knowing without a shadow of a doubt that he shared a bed with Dera consumed her with jealousy, but she cast these unpleasant thoughts aside for the moment.

 

"Won't you sail to Cuba with the general?"

 

He looked questioningly at her. "It would seem that you wish to be rid of me."

 

"No, I never want you to leave. Quint, you must be aware of how much I love you."

 

With a sigh, he tossed aside the papers. "What happened between us is over. It was wrong from the beginning. I'm sorry for hurting you."

 

"Your words do little to soothe my pain," she cried, tears coursing down her cheeks.

 

Remorse filled him for leading her to believe she was anything more than a diversion. He reached out and took her hand. "Find it in your heart to forgive me, Rosette. If I had it in my power, I'd erase that day we slept together."

 

"We did more than sleep. I'm not a woman of the streets!" The crimson tide of her anger stained her cheeks. How dare he try to assuage her feelings with such a feeble apology!

 

"There is naught else I can say," he said.

 

"Make love to me again, Quint. Please." She threw her arms around his neck and pushed her bosom against his chest. She kissed him with such passion that she would have gladly undressed and made love to him on the parlor floor. Her lips rained tiny kisses on his neck, touching the vulnerable spots below his ears, until he firmly pushed her from him.

 


Stop now, Rosette."

 


Don't tell me you don't desire me, because I don't believe you."

 

"I'm married to Dera."

 


I despise Dera for taking you from me!"

 

He had never seen her so emotional or so desperate. "Dera is the woman I love, have always loved. She brings peace to my soul," he said.

 


Is she a good lover?"

 

"I'll not be discussing that with you, Rosette. I can't bed you again."

 

To be spurned by Quint made her furious. She realized that the only way to hurt him was through Dera, and the only way she could have Quint was if Dera returned him to her.

 

She looked him full in the face, studying his reaction. "When the general requests that you tend to him at nights, please wonder who your precious Dera might be entertaining in your absence.”

 

Quint laughed. "Rosette, I've much work to do. This conversation is ended."

 

She blocked him with an extended arm, a plan forming in her mind. "I think you need to see the proof with your own eyes, colonel. You aren't the first man to be bewitched by her. Poor Dominick was besotted by Dera. He didn't see her for what she truly is."

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