Shadow Play (49 page)

"Sarah." He laughed. "Easy does it,
chere,
I'm not certain I'm up to this yet—"

On her knees, she straddled him. Hair spilling over her shoulders and onto his chest, eyes flashing like turquoise fire, she twisted her fingers in his thick mane. "I'll take you when I want you, Kane. Never forget that. And I want you now."

She kissed his mouth, and vaguely she felt his fingers unbutton her shirt, then slide beneath the fabric to caress her breasts gently, then urgently, his thumbs massaging the peaks that were swollen and aching with desire. Then he was lifting her up and she was arching her back, offering the nipples to his lips and tongue, which took them, wet
and soft and hot, teasing the sensitive centers until she thought she might weep with pleasure.

His arms wrapped around her, and he stood, then slowly lowered her to the floor, the fern and palm fronds sweeping aside as he pressed her into the rug and removed her clothes with little effort, then his own. He came into her swiftly, but she was ready and eager. And as the sound of Kan's flute and the Indians
¹
drums filled in the night air outside the house, Morgan buried his face in her hair and whispered, "Love me, Sarah."

She did, with abandon, closing her eyes and letting her mind drift back to the hot, steamy days and nights when they had watched each other from a distance, longing for the other as they had never longed for anyone else.

It was paradise all over again, a tumultuous fulfillment, thunder and lightning, and the sweet celebration of the love that would last them a thousand lifetimes.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you," he whispered.

And upon the wall their shadows moved together and danced to the seductive rhythm of the drums.

Epilogue

Rain had briefly sent the crew and passengers of the
Bark Witch
scurrying for cover, but the clouds soon parted, revealing a clear azure sky and a rainbow that rose from the sea behind them and ended far upon the horizon in a splash of shimmering colors. Morgan stood at the taffrail, feeding the marmoset a ripe papaya as he watched Sarah turn her face into the sun, glorying in its heat, exalting in ^ the roaring of the sea and the singing of the wind in the riggings. She leaned far over the railing until the spray covered her face in a mist; then she threw back her head in laughter, turned her flashing eyes his way, and cried, "It's wonderful, isn't it? We're free, Morgan. I can hardly believe it!"

He smiled in response but didn't join her, not yet. He was enjoying the vision of her too much to spoil the moment.

"Promise me something," she yelled.

"Anything!"

"That we never, ever go back to England. That we never
live any place where the sun doesn't shine twenty-four hours a day!"

He laughed. Finally joining her at the rail, he asked, "Are you happy?"

"Deliriously happy. I'll be even happier when those are in the ground." She glanced toward the numerous crates spread out over the deck, the lids removed allowing the hot sun to warm the rich earth in which the tender green shoots of the
Hevea
were thriving.

He took her in his arms. "Of course, there's no guarantee that we'll succeed," he reminded her. "No one has ever successfully propagated rubber trees outside Brazil."

"Morgan," she said, "I have all the faith in the world in you. There's simply nothing we can't accomplish together. We'll establish the greatest rubber empire the world has ever known!"

"There's the risk that the natives won't accept us."

"We'll simply tell them that you're the
boto.
You're magic. You can do
anything!"

He could not find the words to tell her how happy she made him, so he drew her close and kissed her long and lovingly. He felt shaken as she kissed him back and gripped him
tightly, as if the sunshine of her beauty and faith could banish the nightmare years of loneliness and pain and confusion. And they had. The past was gone, obliterated by the radiance of het emotions as she turned her face up to his. In her eyes was mirrored every dream he had ever imagined, and something he had craved all his life: love and a hope that gleamed as hot and bright as the sun.

Somewhere near the bow of the
Bark Witch
the Indians had begun to sing and beat upon their drums. The lilting sound of Kan's flute shimmied through the air, as crystal clear as bird song. Smiling, Morgan lowered his head and lightly brushed his wife's eyes and cheeks and mouth with kisses, pressing harder upon her lips until they parted and
he entered her in a motion that was at once gentle and passionate and consuming.

Above them all the sails snapped and billowed in the wind as the
Bark Witch
carried them toward their future, and a blazing Malayan sun.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Rodolfo King is fictional, but his character was based on rubber barons who actually lived in South America during the latter part of the 1800s and early 1900s. And while Morgan and Sarah's attempts to smuggle the
Hevea
seeds from Brazil are fictional also, the story is based loosely on fact. By the end of the nineteenth century, Brazil was awash in decadence and far wealthier than any other country, with all its riches derived from rubber—a monopoly that crippled other civilized countries. The arrival of the twentieth century saw an escalation of slavery and an abuse of Amazonian Indians that shocked the entire world. However, thanks to those brave men who smuggled the
Hevea
out of Brazil, the situation changed radically. Accounts differ as to who those men were, but by 1910 the seeds had been successfully propagated on English rubber plantations in Malaysia and Ceylon. By 1920 the prosperous Brazilian rubber trade had fallen off completely. To this day, it is practically non- existent.