Mischief and Magnolias (19 page)

Moonlight filled her room as Shaelyn's eyes flew open. The force of her response surprised her. She pulsed around the fingers he had slipped inside her, the liquid warmth of her release dripping from her body. Never before had she felt anything quite so exhilarating…and just a touch frightening. And yet, she wasn't afraid. Not of Remy. Indeed, she wanted more…of him and what he'd done to her. Wanted more of that feeling of floating to heaven and touching the stars.

Fully awake, no longer captured by the dream that had so enthralled her, she turned in his arms, offering herself fully.

“Finish what you started,” she demanded as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth toward hers. “Take me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“With pleasure,” he whispered as he gazed at her. Passion glazed his eyes. She knew he would have stopped, would have done the honorable thing, as he was an honorable man, if she had requested such. That thought was the last thing on her mind as his head lowered, his mouth slid over hers to take possession, and she responded, parting her lips. His tongue slipped inside, caressing the hot cavern of her mouth.

Her body felt weightless, her mind a dark void except for the sensations his hands and mouth and lips evoked. He caressed her, his hand smoothing over her skin as he explored every inch of her, his mouth taking hers then moving away to taste another part of her body, leaving nothing undiscovered.

She caressed him as he touched her, sliding her hands over his shoulders and back and lower. Beneath his skin, the muscles in his arms and back were taut, like steel bands that rippled and moved under her fingers.

When his mouth closed over her hard nipple and his tongue swirled around the crest, she gasped, the thrill intense. Her thighs pressed together as the exquisite sensation centered between them, once again building, like a spring coiled too tight, demanding to be sprung.

A soft chuckle met her ears. “Do you want me?”

“Yes. Now.”

He rose above her, his thighs parting hers and eased into her slowly, so slowly she thought she would die from frustration. She caressed his firm, round buttocks then dug her nails into his skin, pulling him closer, deeper.

The sharp pinch of pain receded as quickly as it came when he seated himself completely within her, stretching her, filling her with such sweet sensations.

This is so right
.

And then he began to move, again slowly, taking his time, sliding into her over and over.

Sweet torture! Sweet bliss! She caught his rhythm and met him thrust for thrust, her legs wrapping around his thighs. His pace quickened, as did hers, the sensations gripping her, growing stronger. She knew what she wanted now, knew what he could do to her. She rocked against him, straining for that sweet explosion. Blood rushed through her veins, her belly tightened…

“Oh, yes!” Her voice was a hoarse moan as she rode the peak of bliss and touched heaven once more.

He must have reached that little piece of paradise too, for the muscles in his arms became iron bands around her until he groaned, his entire body stiffening with his own climax.

“My sweet Sassy,” he murmured as he peppered her face with light kisses then took possession of her mouth once more.

He rolled to the side and gathered her close in his arms, pulling the thin blanket over both of them, though with the liquid warmth rushing through her veins, she had no need of the coverlet. All she needed was
him
.

Not a word was spoken as she rested her head on his shoulder and smoothed her fingers through the soft hair on his chest. What could she say to describe the incredible feelings cascading through her? Her heart thundered in her chest. Her body felt sore, yet alive in a way she'd never known before. A smile curved her lips. Her dreams were nothing compared to the reality.

She stretched against Remy. The springy hair on his chest tickled her cheek as his arms tightened around her. “Don't go,” he whispered, his voice heavy with sleep. “Stay. Please.”

Shaelyn relaxed within his embrace, the warmth of his body lulling her, and closed her eyes once more. Only for a moment.

• • •

“Major Harte! Shaelyn!” Brenna exclaimed as the coffee cup and tray crashed to the bedroom floor.

Startled, Shaelyn jerked upright in the bed and clutched the blanket to her chest. She blinked to clear away the last remnants of sleep, the lingering languor of making love and experiencing the heights of passion. “Mama!”

Remy opened his eyes and groaned. He too sat upright in the bed, the blanket falling to his waist, exposing his hard, muscled chest and broad shoulders.

“Here.” Brenna thrust Remy's robe at her. “Cover yourself! You too!”

Remy pulled the blanket higher to hide his nudity while Shaelyn slipped her arms into the too-big sleeves and tried to cover herself. Her face flamed with embarrassment, the heat rising up from her neck to stain her face. “Mama, I…I…”

“I thought you were down by the boats,” Brenna said as she picked up the dropped tray and now empty coffee cup. “I didn't expect…” She gestured toward the bed, her eyes wide, her voice sharp and heavy with disappointment. “To find you here. Like this.”

Jock ran into the room, his own robe wrapped tightly around his body. He stopped short in the doorway.

Captain Williams, the cowlick he usually persuaded to lay down standing straight up, nearly collided with the Scotsman. “I heard—oh, excuse me,” he said as he took in the tableau before him. Face instantly red, perspiration popping out on his high forehead, he exclaimed, “Oh!” once more then took off down the hallway, his apologies trailing behind him.

“Would ye mind explainin' this, laddie?” Jock's heavy brogue seemed heavier and more pronounced. The redness in his face contrasted sharply with his ginger hair and mustache as he tied the sash to his robe with angry jerks. “Ye'll do right by her, Remy, by God, or ye'll be answering to me. Ye'll marry before the day is out.”

“Oh, Shae, what—” Brenna never finished her question. She opened and closed her mouth several times, but no other words issued forth, as if everything she wanted to say was stuck in her throat. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she turned away.

Shaelyn's entire body flamed with embarrassment as everything became clear in an instant, despite the voices raised in anger and confusion. She knew how she ended up in Remy's bed. Or thought she did. She'd fallen asleep in the bathtub and dreamed of him, as she always did, her hands between her tightly clasped thighs. Caught in that dream, she had risen from the tub, simply walked into her room—his room—and crawled into bed, the wet towel she had used to wrap around herself crumpled on the floor. Had she done it on purpose?

Remy rustled the blankets beside her, but had yet to say a word. She couldn't look at him, wouldn't look at him, afraid of what she'd see in his eyes. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he cleared his throat. “Of course I'll do the right thing. Miss Cavanaugh—”

Oh, the way he said
Miss Cavanaugh
made her shiver…with fear and dread and something else she didn't want to name.

“—and I will be man and wife as soon as the preacher can get here.”

“No need for a preacher,” Jock said as a huge grin stretched the ginger mustache on his upper lip. “I'm still an ordained minister. I'll perform the deed myself. Is twelve o'clock all right with everyone? In the study?”

The decision had been made though not one of them asked her if she wanted to marry
him
. Not one of them considered her feelings.

“But…but…” The words died in her throat as Shaelyn turned to face Remy. It was a mistake and she instantly averted her gaze. Suppressed anger showed in the firm set of his lips. And his eyes! Glowing like polished pewter, they seemed to see right through her, as if she wasn't there. He cleared his throat again and began moving the blankets away from him.

“Now, if you'll all excuse me. It seems I have a busy day ahead of me.”

Tears blurred her vision as Shaelyn stood before her mother and Jock. Remy's robe, still wrapped tightly around her body, smelled of him.

What have I done?

The servants' room that had become hers seemed crowded, not only because there were too many people inside, but because disappointment was a tangible thing, a fourth entity that grew bigger, stealing the air…and her pride.

Both Brenna and Jock glared at her. The displeasure on her mother's face sunk into Shaelyn's bones. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was hurt and disappoint her mother. The other last thing she wanted to do was marry Remington Harte.

“He'll do the right thing fer ye, lassie. He's a good man,” Jock said as he rocked back and forth on his heels. “Ye'll be married. And we can all put this unfortunate incident behind us.”

He patted the pocket of his robe, looking for his ever-present pipe. “After breakfast, I'll go down to the courthouse and get a marriage license. Bertram Tealing down there owes me a favor,” he said, and with a nod to Brenna, left the room.

Shaelyn ignored the part about the unfortunate incident, but the marriage part, she just couldn't. Finally alone with her mother, she stated her case. “I don't want to get married…not to him! He…he—”

“You should have thought of that before…before you gave yourself to him,” Brenna hissed and moved toward the armoire in the corner of the room. “All the plans I made for you, Shae, gone in a flash. This is not how your father and I pictured your wedding day. There will be no church, no grand party afterward.” She shook her head as she pulled the ball gown out of the armoire and shook it free of wrinkles. “This will have to do in lieu of a wedding gown.” She held the dress up then peered at her daughter, unmistakable reproach written clearly on her face. “I had such plans.”

“I don't want to marry him, Mama.”

Her mother rattled on, her words rapid-fire and as sharp as the major's saber. “Be that as it may, you'll just have to make the best of it, Shae. Your own actions brought you to this place. No sense being upset and angry with me, or Jock, or with the major.” She laid the ball gown across the bed. “And don't you dare cry. Crying never solved anything.”

“What about James?” Shaelyn sniffed as she glanced at the gown and swallowed against the lump in her throat. The last time she'd worn the dress her mother held, she had danced the night away with James. In the garden, with the moonlight shining down on his face, she'd promised to wait for him.

And what had she done? Since Remington Harte had walked into her life, she spared very little thought for James. Very little thought at all except for how the major made her feel. James seemed to be an inconvenient reminder of what her life had been like before everything changed.

“What about him?”

“He'll come home, Mama, and find that I broke my promise to him.”

“That, my dear, is something you'll have to face when the time comes and another thing you should have thought about before you went to the major's bed.” She tossed the gown on the bed then pulled out a plain, black skirt and blouse and handed them to Shaelyn. “Now, I suggest you get dressed and help me with breakfast. We're already behind schedule and the major, as you know, likes his schedule kept.”

“I'm sorry, Mama.” She sniffed again and swiped at the wetness clinging to her lashes. “I never meant for this to happen. I never meant to hurt you.”

Brenna said nothing although her eyes glowed with unshed tears. She nodded once then left the room, her back stiff, her head held high.

Shaelyn watched the door close behind her and collapsed on the bed, willing to give in to the tears blurring her vision. Brenna's disapproval and disappointment, and her own actions, weighed heavily on her heart. How could one night of passion have ruined everything? How could Brenna force her into marriage knowing she'd always wanted to marry for love and love alone? The major didn't love her and probably already thought she'd done this on purpose, so he'd be trapped into marrying her. And what could she possibly do?

She hid. That's what she did. Despite the fact the major had requested she eat all her meals with him and his men in the dining room, Shaelyn made sure she didn't step foot outside the kitchen. And the thought of food? Well, that was enough to turn her already fragile stomach.

But she couldn't hide for long or stay busy enough to forget how her life would change in a few short hours. If twelve o'clock came and went and she didn't make an appearance, someone would look for her—either her mother or Jock or, heaven forbid, the major himself. She had no doubt Remy would drag her into the study, whether she wanted to be there or not, whether
he
wanted to be there or not.

To avoid such an event and further embarrassment, when the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed the hour, Shaelyn, dressed in the ball gown that now held a mix of memories, left her room and made her way down the hall.

They were all there, the officers who had invaded her home and turned her world upside-down. Hair brushed, faces scrubbed clean, silly grins firmly in place, they waited, eyes turned toward the door as the clock finished its dainty little tune.

Shaelyn took a deep breath and forced herself to walk through the doorway, although how was a mystery. Her heart beat so quickly, she saw spots before her eyes, and her legs…her legs felt as soft as butter on a warm day and didn't want to move any further into the room.

“Courage, little miss,” Randall Beckett whispered as he approached from the side of the room, grabbed her hand, and tucked it into the crook of his arm.

She nodded once, unable to speak, as he escorted her to where Remy waited. Shaelyn sucked in her breath. Remington Harte held himself rigid, as if a steel pole replaced his spine, his expression dark and forbidding and yet, he was still the handsomest man she'd ever laid eyes on. She forced herself not to dwell on that fact as she took her place beside him.