A Hint of Rapture (26 page)

"Come to me, beautiful Maddie Fraser," he
bade her suddenly, his voice a husky whisper that rocked her to the very depths
of her being.

Shivering uncontrollably, she bounded from the bed and
flew into his arms. His warmth enveloped her, his bronzed skin both rough and
smooth beneath her frantic touch. Their lips fused and parted as his tongue
stroked hers, searching, delving into the velvet recesses of her mouth even as
his hands expertly divested her of her gown and petticoat.

"Fairest Madeleine, you are my Rosalind," he
murmured as he turned her around, one arm hugging her slender waist. "I
want to see every beauty you possess, to know it, taste it, touch it." He
trailed fiery kisses across her shoulder while he deftly pulled her chemise
over her head, then buried his face in her hair, inhaling its fragrance.

She let out a small gasp of pleasure as his hands
disappeared beneath her drawers and slowly crept up her body, grazing her hips,
his fingers caressing her belly and the narrow curve of her waist. Then he
cupped her full breasts and squeezed, ever so gently.

Madeleine jumped in breathless surprise, moaning when
his thumbnails grazed her taut nipples. He teased them until she was
light-headed and giddy, certain that her knees would buckle beneath her. She
felt a hardness straining against her backside; his arousal was most evident.
She blushed furiously, thrilled by her wanton imaginings.

Suddenly Garrett knelt behind her, his hot breath
fanning along her spine. He slowly slid her linen drawers over her hips and
down her legs, then followed with her stockings. He lifted first one slender
foot and then the other, kissing and caressing each in turn, his breath
tickling her toes.

"You won't be needing this, I trust," he
whispered, running his hands lightly between her thighs as he untied the strap
holding her dirk and tossed both weapon and sheath onto a chair.

She gasped sharply as he nipped her bare bottom, then
he twirled her around, his palms plying and stroking the silky length of her.
She threw her head back and reveled in his sweeping touch, feeling as if he
would caress every inch of her body. His voice came to her as if in a dream,
his whispered words from a text she knew nearly by heart,
Romeo and Juliet
.

" 'O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty
till this night.'"

Tremors of breathless excitement rippled through her
limbs as Garrett kissed her navel and his fingers strayed ever so briefly into
the soft chestnut mound at the juncture of her thighs, then he rose to his feet
and caught her in his powerful embrace.

"Sweet Maddie," he murmured thickly, smothering
her slim throat, her shoulders, and her breasts with kisses. He sought her
lips, and she was lost in oblivion, scarcely aware he had lifted her onto the
bed.

She was drunk with his touch and powerless against the
dizzying sensations wracking her body. Her flesh burned from his countless
kisses. Her blood sizzled and surged through her veins, filling her completely
with liquid heat.

So this was the magic! This was the mystery between men
and women, this was the caring, the wanting, the loving that she so urgently
sought, so desperately needed.

Madeleine opened her eyes dazedly to find Garrett bent
over her, his muscled thighs straddling her hips. He lingered at her aching
breasts, savoring first one then the other, his tongue torturing the swollen tips,
his fingertips lightly stroking the pink aureoles until she thought she might
scream. Then he was above her, his eyes blazing into hers with potent heat,
inflamed from wanting her.

" 'O blessed, blessed night!'" he murmured
huskily, sweeping a chestnut tendril from her face. " 'I am afeard, Being
in night, all this is but a dream . . .'"

Madeleine reached up and drew him down to her, his
verse the sweetest seduction. She kissed him deeply, with all the passion she
possessed, then whispered against his lips, "Aye, 'tis the night, Garrett,
but 'tis not a dream. Love me, please love me."

She watched, spellbound, as he lowered his head once
more, his mouth blazing a molten path across her fluttering belly to her navel.
A madness seized her as his tongue speared into the sensitive hollow at the
same moment his fingers found the moist silken cleft between her thighs.

She cried out and arched wildly against his hand, her
frenzy mounting when his darting tongue began to stroke and tease where his
fingers had been only moments before. Her hips tilted instinctively as she
opened herself for him, her jagged breaths a rising cadence to the sweet agony
he inflicted.

"Garrett . . . no . . . oh, please," she
whimpered, quivering and shaking. A swell of intense pleasure was rising deep
within her, with streaks of rippling sensation radiating from the secret point
of his relentless onslaught. She ran her fingers through his hair, moaning and
imploring until she felt him rise abruptly and cover her writhing body with his
powerful weight.

"Maddie, my love, it will hurt only for an
instant, I promise," she heard him whisper, his lips capturing hers.

She sensed a hard, fervent nudging and innately arched against
it, every fiber of her being striving for the unknown fulfillment she craved so
dearly. She gasped as his pulsating strength plunged into her softness, a
lightning stab of pain overwhelming her pleasure.

"Shhh, sweeting," Garrett murmured hoarsely against
her mouth, shunting his hips gently to and fro. "It will soon pass. Shhh .
. ."

Calmed by his soothing whispers and tender caresses,
she marveled at how swiftly the pain receded and disappeared. Her body seemed
to have a will of its own as she matched his movements, slowly at first, then
more urgently, her senses rocked once more by intoxicating waves of pleasure.

She trembled anew, a fiery heat engulfing her.
Unwittingly she pulled Garrett to her, winding her arms about his muscled back,
her slim legs tightly encircling his waist as if she would never let him go.
She met his heightened thrusts with savage abandon, demanding everything he had
to give and more.

Her panting breaths were one with his as they clung to
each other, their bodies buffeted and tossed by a storm of passion. She heard
him groan and hoarsely cry out her name as he exploded deep within her, a
great, shattering release that catapulted her to unbelievable heights of
shimmering revelation.

"Hold me, Garrett! Hold me!" she cried, certain
she would die from the sheer wonder and infinite splendor of it. She drove hard
against him, tears of rapture streaking her face as wave after cascading wave
of tumultuous ecstasy finally revealed the mystery of love.

A shuddering sigh escaped Madeleine's lips, and she
suddenly went limp beneath Garrett's weight, her limbs slipping from his body.
Stunned, he realized she had fainted. He rolled over onto his side, bringing
her with him, and cradled her in his arms. He kissed her tenderly, tasting the
salt of her tears.

Long moments passed. Gradually Garrett's labored
breathing eased, returning to some semblance of normal.

He could not help smiling. He was sure he had never
before loved anyone so completely. He knew he had never felt such an
overwhelming sense of contentment. It settled over him like a soothing cloud,
merging with his utter exhaustion.

He yawned, and his gaze drifted to the candle across
the room. It sputtered and hissed, the yellow flame flaring in the cool night
breeze wafting from the cracked window.

Better to let it burn itself out, he decided, hugging
Madeleine closer to his chest. He did not want to wake her.

He grasped the tartan bedspread and pulled it over
them. The thick wool would keep them snug during the night. He rested his chin
gently atop her head, stroking her silken hair and reveling in the warmth of
her lithe body. Her breathing had slowed, and its soft, measured rhythm was a
sign that all was well.

"Mistress Madeleine Fraser," he murmured
quietly, closing his eyes. "Lady Madeleine Marshall, mistress of
Farraline, lady wife of Rosemoor."

Garrett smiled faintly. He was not surprised by the
direction his thoughts had taken, or by the strength of his emotion. He was in
love. He had never been more certain of anything in his life.

He was in love with a fiery Scotswoman who took his
breath away every time he gazed into her flashing eyes. A beautiful, stubborn,
and passionate Highlander. Some might insist she was his enemy, yet he knew he
could not live without her.

Never until this night had he dared to hope such a love
was possible. Now it seemed she truly cared, and in time she might consent to
become his wife. Yes, he could hope. He could dream.

Garrett hugged her protectively, sleep stealing over
him. "We've a new beginning, you and I," he whispered softly against
her hair. "After tomorrow, the worst will be over. The danger will be
past. We'll start afresh, Maddie Fraser."

Chapter 17

Madeleine snuggled deeper into the warm mattress,
rubbing her cheek contentedly against the soft feather pillow. Her eyelids
fluttered open ever so slightly.

"Hmmm . . ." she murmured sleepily, closing
them once again. It was pitch dark in the room and hours yet before dawn.
Plenty of time until she had to wake Lord Lovat.

She swiped languidly at her tousled hair, pushing it
away from her face. Her hand dropped back down and dangled limply over the edge
of the mattress. Her fingers brushed against smooth velvet, and she toyed with
it absently, waiting for sleep to lull her once more.

Funny that the bed curtains should be drawn shut, she
thought sluggishly. The evenings weren't that cool yet—

Realization suddenly flooded her.

"Och, surely ye havna overslept again," she
moaned, her eyes snapping open. It was so dark she couldn't see a thing. She sat
up, her hands groping at the heavy drapery. She found the fringed hem and flung
the curtain aside, gasping as a blinding shaft of sunlight cut across the wide
bed.

"Damn!" Madeleine fumed under her breath. Her
gaze swept the illuminated interior, surrounded by opaque draperies on every
side and the sloping canopy overhead. It reminded her of a silent green-velvet
tomb. No wonder she had thought it was still night.

Her heart leaped to her throat. Oh, no! She had
promised to wake Lord Lovat before dawn.

She fumbled frantically for the gold pocket watch on
the bedside table, squinting from the room's brightness as she peered at its
face. It was almost half past ten. Dear God, how would she ever get him out of
the house and on his way without anyone seeing him now?

She threw off the bedspread, her gaze falling on the
barren spot next to her. She touched the rumpled sheet. Garrett must have
already been up for hours.

Her cheeks flamed, wanton images of the night before
streaming through her mind. Her hand strayed to his pillow, still indented in
the center. She could almost sense his warmth, his stirring touch. Her skin
puckered with goosebumps, and she shivered, remembering . . .

"Dash it, Maddie, ye've no time to think of that
now," she whispered vehemently, forcing away the seductive memories. She
climbed out of the bed.

"No time to think of what?" Garrett asked,
rising from the chair behind the mahogany desk. His openly admiring gaze swept
over her. "I thought I heard some rustlings behind those curtains. Good
morning, Madeleine."

Madeleine started and fell back against the mattress.
She grasped the bed curtain and yanked it in front of her to cover her
nakedness. "G-Garrett. I dinna know ye were still here," she barely
managed, her eyes wide with shock. She swallowed hard, determined to avoid his
question.

"I only came back in a short while ago," he
replied lightly. "I've been writing in my military journal, one of my more
mundane duties as an officer." He closed the large leatherbound volume and
looked up at her once more. He smiled warmly. "When I got up this morning,
you were sleeping so soundly I didn't want to wake you. I drew the bed curtains
so you would have some quiet. I hope that was all right."

" 'Tis no matter," she said distractedly. How
was she ever going to get to Lord Lovat now? she wondered. Her gaze fell on her
clothes, draped neatly over an armchair. Her dirk lay upon the brocade seat,
its silver hilt gleaming brightly. She glanced from the chair to Garrett.

He was leaning on the desk, his arms folded, staring at
her as if he could see right through the velvet drapery. She felt a flush race
from her scalp to her toes and she shifted self-consciously. She held the
curtain more snugly across her breasts.

"Garrett, if ye dinna mind, I'd like to get
dressed," she said, attempting a firm tone. "I'll catch a chill
standing here. Could ye kindly leave the room?"

He looked nonplussed, almost hurt, and it seemed he
might protest. Then he sighed. "If that is what you wish, he agreed, his
reluctance evident in his voice. He strode to the door, where he turned and
glanced back at her. "If you'd like, I'll bring you some breakfast. I
haven't eaten yet myself. I was waiting for you. I was hoping we might talk and
perhaps discuss those particulars you mentioned last night."

She nodded quickly, stung by his words. Obviously he
was already thinking about Black Jack. "Aye, 'twould be fine,
Garrett," she said quietly, deciding it was just as well.

Her reply seemed to brighten his spirits. He smiled
again. "Good. I'll be back shortly."

As he closed the door behind him, Madeleine rushed to
the armchair and grabbed her clothes. She dressed quickly, her mind spinning.

She hoped that while Garrett was in the kitchen, she'd
have enough time to see to Lord Lovat. He must still be safe or the house would
surely have been in an uproar. Garrett would certainly have made some mention
of it to her if he had found an unexplained house-guest in their midst. His
demeanor had suggested nothing out of the ordinary, other than the unsettling
current of intimacy between them now.