Petals on the River (53 page)

decided.
 
She considered herself immensely fortunate to have been bought

by such a man.

Soon after their return to the riverside cabin, Gage carried his

sleeping son into the smaller bedroom.
 
When he came back to the parlor

he found his bondswoman awaiting him with a soft smile lighting her

face.

Entranced by the shining green eyes, Gage tilted his head at a curious

angle.

"Did you want something, Shemaine?"

"Aye, Mr.
 
Thornton," she murmured with an almost imperceptible nod.
 
"I

have a great desire to thank you for helping Annie.
 
Working for the

Tates will be a relief after what she has experienced with Mr. Myers."

The silkiness of her voice sent warm shivers racing through his senses,

but Gage sought to drag free of the mind-numbing spell she cast, for he

knew he could not let her build her hopes on what he had done when he

had no intention of letting Annie come live with them.

"I have to tell you, Shemaine, that once Annie has served her usefulness

at the Tates', I must sell her to get back what I laid out for her.
 
She

won't be coming here to live."

"I know that, Mr.
 
Thornton," Shemaine assured him softly, "but I trust

you mean to find her a far more worthy master than Mr.
 
Myers has proven

himself to be.
 
Truly, in the short time I've been here, I've come to

believe that you're a very honorable man.
 
Indeed, sir, I can think of

no other man whom I admire more at this very moment."' Gage struggled to

keep himself from imagining more than she had actually meant to convey.

The word admire could insinuate a whole plethora of connotations, all

pleasing to be sure, but it would be foolish for him to presume too

much.
 
He was still.
 
her master, and she his . bondslave.

Momentarily at a loss for words, he sidestepped around her, knowing if

he stayed in the cabin one moment longer he'd be tempted to delve into

another matter, one that required a more careful discussion than he

presently had time for.
 
"I'd better go out to the shop and see what

progress the men have made in my absence."

Shemaine was perplexed by his hasty departure, but she laid it to his

impatience to get back to work.
 
She set herself to completing the

chores which had been left undone earlier that morning.
 
After putting

the house in order, she heated several irons near the fire and began the

task of pressing their clothes.
 
It gave her a strange satisfaction to

smooth her master's more costly garments beneath her hand and to exert

great care in doing them justice.
 
It was no mean accomplishment to

imagine how handsome Gage Thornton would look in neatly pressed white

shirts instead of the wrinkled homespun ones he had been wearing.

A fine frock coat and breeches would do much to complement them, but she

suffered no uncertainty that it would be the man himself who would

enhance the apparel.
 
Her imagination seemed quite frivolous when she

envisioned herself dancing the minuet with her richly garbed master as

she and Maurice had done on numerous occasions.
 
In her fantasy Gage was

as graceful of step as he was courtly and attentive of manner, rivaling

Maurice, who had been exceedingly well tutored in all the social graces.

Each time Gage came near, she saw a promise in his eyes that made her

breathless with anticipation.

It was just an illusion, Shemaine warned herself, and rarely was reality

as enticing as one's fantasies.
 
In an effort to redirect her thoughts

to something less titillating, she sought to turn her reverie into a

memory of an evening when she had entertained Maurice in her family's

parlor.
 
In guiding her imagination in a close semblance of accuracyX

the figure of her fiance was just as tall, his hair just as black, his

smile just as engaging as her master's, but instead of amber-brown eyes,

thickly lashed ebon eyes gleamed above her own.

Maurice's lips were touched with a natural reddish hue, and as he

lowered his head they parted in eagerness of the kiss he would extract

from hers.

But suddenly her dream went awry, and it was a sun-bronzed visage that

loomed close above her own and her master's opening mouth seizing hers

with ardent desire.
 
Just as swiftly, an intoxicating ecstasy surged

upward within her, evoking a strange craving in her womanly being that

was unsettling at best.
 
To be sure, the delectable warmth that swept

through her breasts was no less devastating than the feelings elicited

when Gage's arm had casually stroked her curves during shooting practice

not so long ago.

Shemaine lifted a trembling hand and, in distraction, wiped at the sheen

of perspiration now dampening her burning cheeks.
 
The shock of her

reaction completely shattered the fanciful notion that she was an

impenetrable fortress of serene virtue.
 
Where once she might have

remained calm and collected in spite of Maurice's attempts to persuade

her that they were as good as married, she was not at all sure she would

stay so coolly detached if Gage Thornton ever employed a like amount of

dedication to winning her favors.
 
Her cheeks grew hot and her breath

came in quickening snatches as she recalled his manly loins casually

brushing her backside while he demonstrated the proper way to hold a

muzzleloader.
 
Treading close on the heels of that memory came another

bold reminder of his male nudity bathed in moonlight.
 
With it came a

burgeoning heat that flared upward, setting her senses aflame. The depth

of her arousal shocked her unduly.
 
Indeed, if she could be affected to

such an extent by memories, then there was definitely a side of her that

was not nearly as levelheaded and reserved as she once might have

supposed.

Having now discovered a sensuality within herself that she had

previously been ignorant of, Shemaine found it difficult to keep her

thoughts well aligned to that which a virtuous maid might ponder.
 
Her

sudden propensity for wayward musings became even more apparent when

Gage returned to the cabin later that afternoon.
 
His very presence in

the kitchen evoked an unfamiliar tumult within her, making her fearful

of what he might discern if he looked into her flushed face or took note

of her trembling fingers.

When he sprawled on the rug in the parlor to wrestle and play with

Andrew, the distance between them gave her relief.
 
Even so, as she

grated carrots, her eyes were wont to covertly caress the manly torso.

It shocked her unduly when she found herself closely eyeing the buckskin

breeches that lay softly over his loins.
 
The torpid fullness led her

mind swiftly astray to visions of his long, nude body glistening with

silvery droplets.
 
The kindling warmth that swept through her in ever I

strengthening surges affected her breathing until she became a bit

ambiguous about her own reserve.
 
In truth, if she were again faced with

his intrusion into her bath and he looked at her with as much hunger as

he had that night, she wondered if she would be quite so insistent upon

him leaving her as she had been then.

The conversation was a trifle lacking at supper.
 
Gage and Shemaine were

keenly aware of each other, yet reluctant to reveal the extent of their

preoccupation or their growing enthrallment.
 
Across the width of the

trestle table, their eyes surreptitiously drank their fill, stroking the

face and form of the recipient of their attention. A brief contact of a

hand or arm left their skins tingling, their senses stimulated.
 
A

murmured word or a direct gaze readily gained their undivided attention.

Later, when they brushed against each other in passing, kindling fires

were a delectable yet unquenchable torture for which neither could find

a befitting assuagement.

Despite the assurances Gage had given his bondslave, he was relentlessly

drawn toward reflections of that moment when he had finished toweling

his hair and swept the linen around his neck.
 
In the soft aura bathing

the interior, he had noticed Shemaine right away, even as she backed

stealthily toward Andrew's room.
 
Her translucent eyes had glimmered,

reflecting the silvery light streaming through the window and betraying

the direction in which she stared.
 
He had dared not move lest he

frighten her beyond reason, but he had felt much like a man subjected to

an exquisite seduction while bound to a stake.
 
The interlude was so

enticing, even in recall, that it roused all the painful yearnings he

had been contending with, even while he struggled to emulate a leisured

calm.
 
In truth, he longed to create other such moments wherein he could

instruct Shemaine further in the intimate secrets of a man's body.

After the meal, Gage found he had little patience to expend on his

drawings.
 
He had spent the remainder of the afternoon setting aright

several mistakes made by his apprentices during his absence, and he was

plagued with a desire to simply relax and do something other than work

before he went to bed.
 
In heightening frustration he closed his desk,

announcing in a disgruntled tone that he had finished for the evening if

Shemaine cared to take an early bath.
 
He put Andrew to bed and returned

to the parlor to find her carrying buckets of steaming water into the

back room.
 
Sitting down in the rocking chair near the hearth, he picked

up a book to read, hoping it would soothe the inexplicable restlessness

that roiled within him.
 
Though he made a concened effort to concentrate

on the pages, the words in the volume could not hold his attention for

any measurable length of time, not when his gaze was inclined to wander

above the pages and follow Shemaine as she scurried back and forth

between the hearth and the back corridor.

After dumping the last pail of water, she came to stand beside his chair

with a towel folded over her arm, drawing his bemused attention.

''What is it, Shemaine?"

"I thought since there's a bit of a nip in the air this evening, sir,