Andrea Kane (42 page)

Kassie flashed her dimples at him. “Thank you, Perkins. I’ll go at once.”

She rode as quickly as her cumbersome gown permitted, now very much at home in Little Lady’s saddle. When she reached the clearing by the stream she stopped, grinning at the sight that met her eyes.

On the grass was spread out a blanket, complete with a basket of food, wine … and Braden.

At the sound of Kassie’s approach Braden sat up lazily, squinting at his wife. “Welcome, my beautiful duchess,” he greeted her, coming smoothly to his feet and walking over to Little Lady’s side. “It occurred to me this morning that you and I began a picnic that has yet to reach its natural conclusion. A picnic that commenced delightfully at this very spot some weeks ago.” He reached up and lifted Kassie from the saddle, lowering her slowly to the ground.

“I haven’t forgotten,” she said breathlessly, holding on to his arms.

“Nor have I,” he replied huskily, his voice deep, suggestive. “I haven’t forgotten … anything.”

Kassie felt his words seep into her pores, drenching her in melting liquid heat. Her pulse began to race, and she gazed up at him, undisguised longing in her blue-green eyes.

Perhaps the servants would not be disappointed after all, she thought with giddy anticipation. Perhaps today would mark the end of the week’s long, celibate nights.

Braden watched Kassie’s breath quicken, her lips part softly in silent invitation. With burning eyes he caressed her exquisite features, running his fingers lightly up and down her arms beneath the sleeves of her gown until he could feel the little bumps of pleasure tremble on her bare skin.

“Soon,” he promised in a low-pitched, intimate tone, “but not yet. First, my impatient wife, we shall have our meal.”

“Meal?” she murmured dreamily.

“Um-hum.” He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “Our meal. Food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

His lips twitched at her blunt protest. “You will be.” He dropped his hands to his sides.

Trying not to smile over the obvious disappointment on Kassie’s face, Braden led her to the blanket that beckoned them. “Sit.”

She complied, stretching her legs out before her and leaning back on her hands. “All right, Your Grace.” She brushed her hair back over her shoulders, where it cascaded down her back like a shining black waterfall. She gave him an impish grin. “Now what?”

He drank in her flawless beauty, wanting nothing more than to tug off her clothing and bury his lips, his body, in her welcoming softness. “Now I serve you.” He dropped down beside her and began to remove food from the basket: bread, cheese, fresh strawberries, and a bottle of port.

“I provided a far more extensive banquet at
my
picnic,” she pointed out with dancing eyes.

“I have allocated very little time for the eating portion of our day.” His hot gaze raked her explicitly, filled with sensual promise and a prelude of the pleasure yet to come.

Kassie felt her breasts swell, tighten painfully.

As if he knew how his carefully chosen words were affecting her, Braden’s eyes dropped to the bodice of her gown, restlessly watching as her nipples hardened in anticipation.

“Braden …” She uttered his name in a breathy whisper.

Wordlessly Braden broke off a small chunk of cheese and brought it to her lips. “Bite,” he commanded softly.

“Are there no utensils?” she murmured, her breath warm against his fingers.

“None.”

“A pity.” She took a bite of the cheese, chewing it delicately, then licked the crumbs from her lips.

“Duchesses are required to eat only from the hands of their dukes … when on picnics,” he said hoarsely, his gaze fixed on the motions of her mouth. “Allow me.” He leaned over and nibbled gently at her lips, letting his tongue take over her task. Kassie’s eyes slid closed, and her head dropped back. She was aware of nothing but the feeling of Braden’s mouth on hers. “Better?” he asked in a passion-rough voice, sitting back on his heels.

“Much.”

He raised the bottle of port. “Would you care for some wine?”

“Are there glasses?”

“Not a one.” He leaned forward and pressed the open bottle to her lips. “Crystal is also prohibited from use by duchesses.”

“When on picnics,” she clarified, settling her mouth on the open bottle.

“When on picnics,” he agreed softly. “Now drink.”

The wine flowed onto her lips and slid down her throat in a cool, soothing stream. Small droplets of port, having escaped the confines of her mouth, trickled onto her chin, and instantly Braden caught them with his tongue, absorbing the sweet taste of the wine and the sweeter taste of Kassie.

Kassie’s breath was coming in quick pants. “And dessert?” she managed. “As I recall … dessert is … the first course … when … on … a … picnic.” She shivered as Braden’s mouth closed possessively over hers.

“Yes … dessert.” He pressed her backwards onto the blanket, covering her with himself. “I believe dessert is where we left off scant months ago, is it not?”

He didn’t wait for her answer. Tossing the bottle aside, he gave in to his true hunger, the desperate craving that had gnawed inside him from the first moment his wife had dismounted. He buried his lips in hers, filling her mouth with his tongue, his breath; tangling his hands in her luxuriant hair and abandoning himself to the voice that cried out for Kassie, the urgent need that was beyond bearing.

“Kassandra …” He kissed her cheeks, her neck, her throat, drawing the fragile skin into his mouth, wanting to consume the very essence of her. He brushed his open mouth across the soft curves of her breasts, which were exposed over the low-cut bodice of her gown. With shaking hands he tugged down the sleeves until Kassie’s naked shoulders were revealed. These he worshiped, as well, caressing them with his hands, bathing them with his tongue. And all the while he reveled in her response, her soft cries of pleasure, the sensuous twists of her body beneath him as she begged for more.

The sound of her pleas, the uninhibited offering of herself—neither was lost to the eyes and ears of the man who stood concealed by a wall of trees, his eyes ablaze. He raised a near-empty bottle to his lips, gulping down the burning liquid, then stared at the couple so intimately entangled on the lawn, fury and madness twisting his handsome face.

She was mine
…
mine,
he thought.
Untouched and innocent, needing all that I could offer. And now
… He shuddered, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.
Now she is just like her mother was. A deceitful, manipulative slut. Promising the world with her damned beauty and her trusting sighs; in truth, nothing more than a lying, scheming bitch. Just like Elena. Elena
… His gut knotted, and he refocused, seeing only Kassandra … in Braden’s arms, writhing and moaning in the grass like a common whore.

He bit his lip until he tasted blood, then washed it away with another deep swallow.
Things could have been so different, Kassandra, so different. But you’ve sealed your fate
…
chosen another
…
another
…

You’ll pay. You’ll both pay.

Turning away, he staggered back into the trees and disappeared.

Unaware that they’d been observed, Kassie and Braden knew only each other. Braden slid one arm beneath Kassie’s back and lifted her, rapidly unfastening the row of tiny buttons at her back. She helped him with her gown, wriggling out of it and kicking it away from them. Braden would have smiled at her eagerness if he weren’t so frantic himself. Urgently he pulled off the rest of her clothes, struggling at the same time with his own.

When at last they lay naked and unashamedly hungry for each other, Braden drew her into his arms, melding her body’s softness to the rigidly hardened contours of his.

“I love you,” he breathed into her hair, filled with all the wonder of discovery, the joy of giving voice to feelings long denied. “Kassie, I love you so much.”

Awash with sensation, Kassie pressed her open mouth to the warm skin of Braden’s chest, teasing the crisp, dark hair with her tongue. How she had needed to hear those words, and now that she had, how she needed her husband’s body to convey them. “Show me,” she whispered. “Show me that you love me.”

The fervent longing in her voice was all it took. Aroused beyond bearing, Braden rolled Kassie to her back, sliding his knee between her legs and reaching down to assure himself of her readiness.

She was more than ready for him.

Their gazes locked in that moment, and the love he saw shining in her eyes told him all he needed to know.

“Braden,” she breathed, reaching up for him, opening herself for their joining.

He said her name, whispered it as a love word, and pressed himself slowly forward, entering her with tender reverence. He felt ripples of pleasure surge through him as her body stretched to accept him, and he closed his eyes, easing forward, waiting until he had totally filled her, until he heard her melting sigh of pleasure, before he began to move.

And then the world began to tremble as they let their bodies speak for their hearts.

Again and again Braden thrust into her warm wetness, wrapping his arms about her fiercely, lifting her to meet each deliberate thrust. He heard her soft cries, felt her body tighten around his, beneath his, and all at once nothing mattered but Kassie’s pleasure. He urged her legs higher around him, leaving her open to the deep, deep penetration of his body as it stroked on hers, in hers.

Kassie was lost amid a swirling vortex of sensation that dragged her down into its sultry core. She had wanted Braden in the past, but never like this. Never with an intensity that burned her from the inside out; never so that she thought she might die if he were to stop, so that the mere touch of his hands, his mouth, caused her body to throb with a longing so acute it was like pain. Never so that the waiting was beyond bearing.

“Braden,” she pleaded, past logic or sanity. “I need you … I …”

“… love you,” he finished for her, watching her flushed, rapturous expression as she strained for fulfillment:

“… love you,” she echoed, arching up to meet him.

They reached the towering peak together. Kassie cried out as the shuddering spasms claimed her, and Braden matched her rhythm, pouring into her in great, pulsing bursts of heat.

Unwilling to separate, they remained as they were, Braden’s lips buried in the fragrant cloud of Kassie’s hair, his body still deep inside hers.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured at last, attempting to raise up on his elbows.

But Kassie would have none of it. “Don’t go,” she protested, wrapping her limbs more tightly around him. She kissed his damp shoulder. “Please … stay with me.”

He stared down into her enchanted face, love welling up inside him. “I want you to have my child,” he said with sudden intensity. “I want a little girl with hair the color of midnight and eyes like pieces of the sea.” He brushed her lips softly with his, tasting her joyous tears. “I want her to have not only her mother’s breathtaking beauty, but her fierce courage, her extraordinary spirit, and her rare, unspoiled innocence. Then, someday, when she meets a very lonely, very jaded man, she, too, can teach him how to love.” He gazed down at her soberly. “And when she does, he will make her forget all the pain of the past by treasuring her for the rest of their lives.”

Kassie blinked away her tears. “I love you, Braden,” she whispered.

“And I love you, my magnificent wife. Now and always.”

With his words Braden pledged his heart to the enchanting, selfless angel in his arms, knowing fully and finally that she was his life’s richest blessing. And though Kassie had told him time and again that it was he who had rescued her from a living hell, Braden knew the truth.

It was Kassie who had rescued him.

T
HE AFTERNOON SUN HAD
grown warm, forcing its rays insistently through the encumbering clouds when Kassie and Braden finally and reluctantly began to think about returning to the house. The entire morning and much of the afternoon had been spent in total sensual abandon, alternately splashing in the stream, feeding each other bits of bread and cheese, and mostly making slow, lingering love. Each moment was pure joy unto itself, almost as if by wrapping a cocoon of pleasure about them they could keep the intruding forces of the world at bay.

But the real world could not be shut out forever.

Kassie chewed her lower lip anxiously as Braden buttoned the back of her gown. “Charles is keeping something from us,” she blurted out at last. Although she couldn’t see Braden’s expression she could feel him tense, feel his hands pause in their task.

“Meaning?” Braden asked the question carefully, knowing full well that Kassie was fiercely loyal to Charles.

Kassie turned to face him. “I don’t believe Charles had anything to do with my mother’s death,” she began defensively. When Braden didn’t answer but only continued to wait impassively for her to continue, she sighed. “Braden, I’m so confused.”

“Tell me.” All traces of nonchalance gone, Braden’s words were a command.

Quietly and without pause Kassie told Braden of her earlier conversation with Charles. “I’m certain he knew my mother,” she concluded.

Braden nodded. It all fit. “I’m sure he did know Elena.”

There was something in her husband’s voice that set off warning bells in Kassie’s head. She squinted thoughtfully up at him. “You know something that you haven’t told me.”

Braden smiled faintly, amazed as always at his wife’s keen perception. Gently, protectively, he tugged her to him, offering her the security of his arms. “Charles is the person who discovered your mother’s body on the beach,” he replied softly, feeling Kassie’s start of surprise. “I only just found out some weeks ago,” he responded to her unspoken question. “And at the time there was no point in telling you. But I’ve always wondered what Charles was doing at the base of the cliffs that night. It seemed a bizarre coincidence.”

Ingesting that new piece of information, Kassie took a deep breath and verbalized the thought that had nagged at her all day. “Do you think Charles might have been the man who was involved with my mother?”