Heaven Scent (32 page)

Tarin jumped up, embarrassed to be
found in bed with Rafe. She felt her face heat. Heaven above, her
father and a priest had seen her in bed with a man!

“Is everything settled with the Kents?”
Rafe asked Beau and Patrick as he sat up with a groan. He tugged
her back to his side.

Beau nodded as he shook Rafe’s hand.
“Yes. The police will allow his wife to attend the funeral tomorrow
before placing her in jail.”

“We have sent word to the grandparents
to retrieve the child,” Patrick added, handing Rafe the robe
hanging on the coat rack. “She will stay at the church orphanage
until they arrive.”

“Thank you, both,” Tarin interjected,
helping Rafe slide his arms into the sleeves. “I know it was
difficult for you.”

“What was hard, Tarin,” Beau said, his
ice green eyes hard beneath lowered brows, “was seeing you and Rafe
near death.” He looked over at Father Finnegan. “Thank God, you are
both well.”

The priest smiled as he shuffled a
Bible between his hands. “Yes, miracles do happen.”

Rafe grinned. “I know you came here to
give me last rites, Father, but I have been given a reprieve. Can
you marry us, instead?”

Tarin’s heart shot into a full
gallop.

“Of course.” Father Finnegan nodded
with a smile.

Pulling her to him, Rafe kissed the
breath from her lungs in front of everyone. “Is that agreeable to
you, Lady Worthington?”

Excitement shot through her like
lightning, making her body tingle all over. She couldn’t contain
her smile. “Most definitely, Mr. Sutherland.”

Smiling, Henry headed for the door. “I
will go find your mother, Rafe. We must get you two married post
haste. With your history, we have no idea what could happen before
days end.”

Chapter 18

The scent of lavender assailed Rafe as
soon as he opened the bedroom door. He’d given his wife an hour to
ready herself for their honeymoon, while he had a congratulatory
cigar with Beau and Patrick. They had questioned his ability to
perform his husbandly duties due to his wounds, but He had
quickened the recovery process.

Rafe was more than ready to bed his new
wife. He just hoped she was ready to face his scars.

“Tarin?” He shut the door behind
him.

A gas lamp brightened beside the bed.
She sat up, the covers dropping to her waist. Her glorious copper
hair hung loose around her shoulders and she wore one of his
shirts. The sight sent a thrill of excitement through him, a fierce
possessiveness in its tow.

“What are you doing in one of my
shirts?” He walked over to the fireside table and set down a bottle
of bourbon.

“It seems my new husband would not
allow me to go home and retrieve my lingerie.” Smiling, she brushed
the hair from her eyes. “I was beginning to wonder if I was going
to spend my wedding night alone.”

Rafe cocked a brow. Not
likely.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, with
a yawn.

Excited, aroused - and nervous as a boy
with his first girl. “The bourbon has taken off the
edge.”

Stretching her arms, the
laces on the shirt gaped, revealing one of her bare shoulders. The
sight of her in his shirt, in his bed, made him crazy with want. A
primitive, base instinct urged him to take her
now
. But it was their wedding night
and she was a virgin. Rafe wanted their first time together to be
satisfying for them both.

God help him.

Walking over to the dresser, he bent
and splashed water on his face. He hadn‘t been with a woman in
nearly a year. And whether she said so or not, the scars could not
be stimulating for her.

“Rafe, you were near death today. I
still do not know how you are walking around as if you received
nary a scratch. There is no pressure to consummate the marriage
tonight.”

Rafe whipped his head around. She knelt
on the bed facing him, an arm wrapped around one of the posts. Her
bare breasts were clearly visible beneath the thin cotton of his
shirt, her smooth legs showing beneath the hem.

The
hell
there was…

Leaving the bed, she padded towards him
barefoot. Her legs were long and shapely, her full breasts bobbing
with each step she took. His new wife completely captivated
him.

Her beautiful, green eyes were round
with worry when she stopped in front of him.

“You are the most beautiful thing I
have ever seen.”

The smile that lit her face was like
none he had seen from her before. Filled with innuendo, she lifted
a corner of her mouth as she tugged him towards the bed. Staring at
him through lowered lashes, she bit her bottom lip as she carefully
pushed him to sit down on the mattress.

“
Are you certain you are
well?” she asked, bending to remove one of his boots.

Rafe placed a hand on her arm. “Tarin,
stop. I don’t expect you to wait on me.”

She gave him that knowing smile again.
“That is good. I had not planned to make it a habit.” She pulled
off one boot, then the other, before trailing her hands up the hem
of his pant legs and massaging his bare calves. “Your muscles are
like stone.”

They weren’t the only
muscles like stone at the moment. Rafe feared he would actually
break if she touched him the wrong - or would that be
right
? - way.

Rising to her feet, Tarin climbed onto
his lap and straddled him. Rafe’s heart nearly failed. Just the
thought of her open and ready, just inches from his crotch, made
him break out in a sweat.

“Did you know that I love you…“ She
placed tiny kisses along his throat, before tugging at his earlobe.
“…and desire you madly?”

Although he knew she loved him, a part
of Rafe still wondered how she could desire him. Yet, this damned
perfect seduction she had orchestrated was real. But how?
Why?

And dammit, where did she learn to do
this?

Unbuttoning his shirt, she trailed her
hands down his arms as she lowered it behind him. Her brows
furrowed in concentration as she carefully removed it and tossed it
to the floor.

A chill ran through Rafe as he sat
fully exposed before her. “How can you desire me,
Tarin?”

She looked up from his chest. Her eyes
were round, solemn. Quite possibly more green than the emerald
burning a hole in his trouser pocket.

“I cannot explain my
emotions, Rafe. Only express them.” She fanned her fingers through
his hair. “But I
can
tell you that my need for you overwhelms me.”

He watched in fascination as her
shaking hands grabbed the hem of her shirt. With slow movements,
she pulled it over her head and flung it on the bed behind
him.

His heart stopped, his body hardening
to the point of pain.

She was perfect. Her breasts were high,
full, and clearly aroused, her skin creamy white and smooth. She
had a small waist that widened to a hollow stomach and slightly
rounded hips.

He struggled to breathe.

Looking into her eyes, Rafe saw the
vulnerability hidden behind her determination. The woman had
spirit. She was a virgin and had bared herself to him. He knew the
courage it took, knew how much she had put on the line.

She had evened the stakes. For
him.

God above, he loved her.

Cupping her head in his hand, Rafe
crushed his mouth to hers. She deepened the kiss, not he, opening
for him as she pressed her soft, full curves against his chest.
Moaning into her mouth, he drank what she offered, running his
hands up and down the smooth, silky skin of her back.

Without breaking the kiss, Rafe laid
her back on the mattress and stretched out on top of her. She was
so soft, so willing - and impatient.

She broke their kiss, her breathing
labored. “Will you never remove the rest of your
clothes?”

Barking out a soft laugh, Rafe rose to
his feet and pulled off his trousers. She had said the scars didn’t
matter. He was about to see if that held true. If he saw one
inkling of horror, he would stop. He wouldn’t hold her to her
word.

Stripping down to nothing, Rafe watched
Tarin’s reaction as he lay beside her. He saw no reluctance, only
exotic green eyes swirling with desire and eagerness. He had only a
moment before she turned to him and took up where they had left
off. She threw a leg over his hip and pulled closer.

Following her lead, Rafe strummed her
body at his leisure, kneading and caressing every curve and hollow.
She responded to him with such abandon, her moans and gasps
exciting him into a near frenzy. Pleasuring her with his hand, he
watched her wildly, beautifully come apart in his arms.

Recovering from her climax, she smiled
up at him in wonder. Rafe grinned. Damn, he was one lucky
bastard.

He flinched at her first touch on his
chest, but slowly relaxed as her hands hypnotized him with their
gentle strokes. She pleasured him with the same passionate spirit
she put into everything else. While he guided her hands and mouth,
Rafe encouraged her boldness and curiosity until he found himself
near climax - and he hadn’t entered her yet.

Gritting his teeth, Rafe climbed on top
of her. Waiting to enter her warmth, he tried to relax them both by
stopping to stroke the hair back from her flushed face.

“I’m sorry I have to hurt
you.”

He saw none of the apprehension and
fear he expected. The shaking he had witnessed earlier was gone.
Her legs were spread wide, welcoming him home.

“The hurt ‘tis only temporary and well
worth it, if your prowess so far proves true.“

He laughed before giving her a brief
kiss. “You put a lot of pressure on a man.”

Shaking her head against the pillow,
she replied, “No pressure, only love.”

Rafe sobered, realizing her words were
genuine. To accept him as he was, she had to love him. What woman
would tolerate his brash ways and scarred body?

Bracing himself on his hands, he
entered her slowly and nearly lost it. She was so ready for him, so
warm and moist, it felt too good to be real. Thrusting forward, he
broke her barrier as he crushed his mouth to hers.

She was finally his.

Rafe tried to love her slowly,
leisurely, and did so for a while, hoping to give her time to
adjust. Yet, soon he sat at the point of madness and couldn’t hold
back any longer. Increasing the pace, he followed her moans and
whispered words until they were both slick, breathless and near
completion.

“Oh Rafe, I cannot-what are you doing
to me?…” she cried.

Arching his back, Rafe emptied himself
inside her as the scent of roses showered down around
them.

The room stood silent, save for their
waning breath. Rafe held Tarin against his warm, hard chest and
stroked her hair. He smelled of spice, bourbon and perspiration,
his unique scent enveloping her in familiar comfort.

It felt good to be held. Tarin could
not remember the last time someone had really held her. Frowning to
herself, she realized it had been her mother, over twelve years
earlier. It struck her how she had come to live without it, yet
craved it now that she had Rafe.

Snuggling closer, she sighed. She never
wanted to leave.

Suddenly, Rafe sat up. Tarin gasped.
Jumping off the bed, he sauntered around the bed and picked up his
trousers.

“Pardon me,” she announced, “I was
thoroughly enjoying myself, just now.”

Laughing, he reached inside the pocket
and pulled out a green velvet pouch. “You are a demanding
woman.“

Tarin couldn’t help but admire his
tall, muscular physique as he made his way back around the bed. He
was incredibly masculine and virile. She couldn’t wait to get her
hands on him again.

He lay down beside her with a smile.
Leaning over him, she feathered her fingers through his thick, dark
hair. “Did you know I have been a long admirer of your
backside?”

Raising a brow, he grabbed
the hand in his hair and kissed her palm. “So, you
have
had unladylike
thoughts in my presence. I knew it.”

“Oh, absolutely,” she replied, with a
wanton grin.

Growling low in his throat, Rafe bent
and gave her a long, open-mouthed kiss. She could get spoiled
having a man with such advanced talents at her leisure.

Pulling away, he dropped the pouch in
her hand. The strong scent of roses struck her
speechless.

“You smell them, don’t you?” He gave
her an I-told-you-so smile.

She couldn’t believe it. Her mind
flooded with memories of her mother, as though someone dropped
painting after painting before her eyes, each a scene from her most
cherished thoughts.

Holding the pouch to her nose, she
inhaled deeply.

Nothing.