Shanna (25 page)

Slowly Ruark felt a presence in the room and raised his gaze to see the shadow of an island woman. She leaned silently against the door. With fluid movements she came forward into the light, and Ruark rose quickly to his feet, recognizing Shanna. He tossed the quill to the table and then went without a word to the sideboard, there pouring a glass of Madeira. Returning to her, he offered her the goblet, standing close before her, desiring yet not daring to touch her. Was this another dream which would fade if he reached out to take her?

Shanna took the glass with both hands and sipped from it while her green eyes softly searched his face. The goblet was lowered, and Shanna's gaze followed as confusion filled her mind. She could find no word to break the spell. Ruark's hand came up and gently swept the kerchief from her head, loosening the long, thick tresses, spilling them downward over her soft, white shoulders. He set the glass on the corner of the table then blew out the oil lamp. Shanna's lips parted in a low, wordless moan as his arms went about her, folding her into his embrace and bringing her against his hard muscled chest His mouth touched hers and tested the softness of her lips, playing, warming, rousing until her arms crept about his neck. He bent slightly, and his arm went behind her knees, lifting her from the floor. A soft sigh escaped Shanna as she laid her head upon
his shoulder. Ruark strode swiftly through the rooms until he gained the softly illuminated bedchamber where without pause he turned and fell on his back across the bed, still holding her clasped in his arms. Shanna gasped at the fall then braced up on an elbow to stare down in wonder at his face. Folding an arm about her, Ruark pressed a kiss upon her lips and traced a molten path downward to her neck and finally to her bare shoulder. In her mind, Shanna wanted to pull away from his touch, but her mind stumbled and fell before his persistent caresses. Shanna rose above him slightly, shaking her head until her hair formed a shimmering canopy about their faces. Staring into those hungry golden eyes, she lowered again to kiss him long and ardently, moving slowly, the hot peaks of her breasts teasing his chest. His hands moved to her waist, and the skirt fell loose. A tug at the tie of her blouse and it was off her shoulders. Like a savage cat Shanna crouched on her knees above him, tempting him with a kiss, an intimate touch, until Ruark rolled, pulling her beneath him. Then with fierce, naked abandon he possessed her, sweeping her with him to breathless, spiraling heights.

Climbing up from the depths of sleep, Ruark woke as if from a trance, for a brief haunting moment fearing that he had dreamed it all. But then he felt the soft, warm body entwined with his, and he relaxed upon the pillow. The memory of Shanna's passion fanned the fires in his mind. She had teased him like a vixen, tempted him with her softness, made love with him as openly as if she were a cherished wife. Her effect on him was total and complete—devastating when wanting her only led him to frustration and agony of mind and body, beautiful when they joined in love and she was his, for a time, for a space. The fragrance of her perfume filled his brain, and her lovely curving form nestled close against him, a warm, soft thigh resting casually between his, her arm flung out across his chest She moved against him, and her breath was a warm tickling at the base of his neck. Her lips touched there, and as he looked down, she drew back, her eyes smiling into his. Their lips met and met again as if each kiss were sweeter than the one before. His arm beneath her curled about her shoulders, and his other hand
caressed downward along her spine to press her hips close to his. They moved apart then came together with a heat that melted them into one, each oblivious of everything but the other. All that had gone before was dimmed in the brilliance of the union.

Jagged lightning cracked the ebony sky, and raindrops pattered on the leaves of the poinciana trees close outside the window. Errant breezes brought the fresh smell of the storm to fill the room. Both of them were awake, but they were silent and somewhat awed by the bliss they had found together. Shanna lay nestled in his arms. Her finger traced the outline of his ear, and she brushed the tousled hair back from it.

“I am to bid you go before my father learns of us,” she said quietly. “Hergus fears what will happen.”

Ruark chuckled softly. “And I am to go, just like that? Upon my word, the woman is blind, else she would see how you have bewitched me.”

Shanna rolled her head to watch the play of flashing bolts across the broad expanse of velvet blackness. It was strange the strong sense of security she felt here with Ruark as the storm enveloped the world beyond the windows. She had always slept alone, and as a child she had been frightened of the thunderous winds and the blinding flashes that lent an eeriness to her bedroom long after the storms passed. On more than one occasion she had fled in terror to the safety of her parents' chamber, only a few doors away from her own. Now with the raging winds outside, the comforting arms within, she could not find it in her to leave them.

Ruark's fingers brushed the softly tangled curls from her soft nape, and his kisses ventured unhindered along the creamy whiteness. Shanna closed her eyes, bathing in the peace of her contentment.

A long sigh escaped her. “I suppose I should go back before the storm worsens.”

Ruark's lips brushed her temple and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Stay 'til dawn,” he breathed against her ear. “'Twill be past by then. Let me hold you for a few hours more.”

Shanna turned her face so her lips might meet his, and their mouths played with increasing warmth as she whis
pered. “But you'll need your rest. What of the morrow? You have to work.”

“I'll manage.” His mouth became insistent “Stay. Will you?”

Shanna nodded slightly, and her voice was muffled beneath his kisses. “Aye, 'til dawn.”

The storm rattled against the window, and together they watched while the heavens played out their fiery dances and tiny twinkling stars appeared between the racing clouds.

The chimes of the clock in the hall sounded the hour of four, and Ruark came sharply awake, aware that Shanna lay curled against him, sound asleep. Gently he kissed her, urging her to wake as he spoke her name. She moaned sleepily, slipping a silken arm about his neck. His mouth lightly caressed the softly parted lips as he murmured huskily:

“Come, love, there's no help for it. I'll take you back.”

Searching in the dark, Ruark struck a flint to flame, then lit a candle which blazed and illuminated the room. He rose and went around the bed, collecting her clothes from the floor. Shanna carefully pulled the sheet around her, sitting up on the edge of the bed, and her eyes avoided him as he handed her the garments.

“Will you put your breeches on?” she requested softly as she stared down at her hands folded primly in her lap. She threw him a quick, furtive look and shrugged at his questioning gaze. “You seem so naked standing there.”

Her gaze flicked down him then fled completely. She felt awkward, conscious of him watching her while he waited for her to continue. Pointedly keeping her eyes toward the window, she spoke in a rush.

“I don't think you are very modest You—you seem so casual about it all.”

Ruark's brow twisted dubiously as he studied the heightened color of her cheeks. Would he ever understand her moods? But he relented to her request and donned his breeches.

“Madam, as you should remember,” he said as he fastened them, “'tis most difficult making love fully clothed, and I for one prefer it more intimate. I fear you'll have
to get used to seeing me in the altogether. A bride can only claim shyness for so long.”

The green eyes were wide as they turned on him. “You don't believe this can continue?”

Ruark frowned at her. “And why, madam, should I believe otherwise?”

Shanna came abruptly to her feet, dropping the sheet to the floor, and began dressing herself, oblivious to her own nakedness and its warming effect on Ruark.

“This thing—last night—it just happened,” Shanna hotly insisted. “It must not continue, for your sake as well as mine. Can you not be satisfied that the bargain is done? Must you be a rutting knave who's always lusting and never appeased? If you were a gentleman—”

Ruark's burst of laughter halted the flow of words abruptly, and Shanna spun around, her eyes flashing with indignant sparks.

“How quickly you chasten me, as if you're sorely set upon. You can hardly blame me for the whole of what happened last night, madam. And there you stand, all soft and tempting and naked. Then you rebuke me for staring. Fickle woman,” he teased. “You would taunt me and reject me like all those other men you've led about with your silken looks.”

“Ooohh!” Shanna fumed and hurriedly snatched her garments on. “You're despicable!”

“Do you think so, madam?” Ruark took her in his arms, kissing her hair, her cheek, and caressing her lips with his own. He pressed her back upon the bed, and his mouth traveled downward to where her blouse left the higher curves of her breasts bare, then went lower still to venture the crest. Shanna held her breath, and the fires of passion again began to flare within her. A touch, a kiss, a look, and he could rouse her. What madness was this?

“Your heart beats much too swiftly for you to claim disinterest, my love.”

Her lips trembled as he claimed them fiercely with his own.

“Promise to meet me later,” he breathed.

“I cannot. Do not ask.”

“I ask.”

“Nay, I cannot I must get home, Ruark. Let me go.”
Shanna's head swam dizzily beneath the assault of his kisses, and her voice became weaker. “Please—Ruark—”

“You've set your mind to torment me,” he sighed.

For a long moment his hungering mouth searched the sweetness of hers. Then quite suddenly he released her, bouncing off the bed with a quick display of rugged muscles. Her soft lips still throbbing from the demand of his, Shanna came almost reluctantly off the bed, having somewhere lost much of her desire to leave. Slowly she walked before him as they left the cottage, feeling his hand now and then brush a tumbled lock or lightly stroke her bare arm.

They went through the darkness toward the manor. The birds were already awakening with the freshening breezes of the coming dawn and were testing their voices for their overture, sounding much like the first hesitant notes of flutes, oboes, and other woodwinds. Silent and introspective, Shanna strode beside Ruark. The damp grass was cool beneath her bare feet, and the trees sprinkled the two of them with raindrops as the breezes rustled the lush foliage. Staying to the deepest shadows, they quickly crossed the clearing to the house and were soon beneath Shanna's balcony.

“You'd best go back now,” she murmured. “I'll go around to the stairs.”

Ruark gazed upward toward the veranda. “Twould not be a difficult task getting you up if you'd care to venture this way.”

Shanna peered at him doubtfully. “I'd likely break my neck.”

“Trust me, love,” Ruark laughed. “You're not very big. I can have you up in a moment.” He bent his knee slightly. “Turn your back to me, give me your hands, and put your foot here on my thigh. You can sit on my shoulder and you're halfway there.”

Hesitantly Shanna did as bade and was amazed at how effortlessly the maneuver was performed. When she paused on his shoulder, she glanced down, and the sound of her gaiety bubbled in the stillness of morn. She remarked rather risquély, “For a bondslave you always seem to give me a lift in my hour of need. I think I shall keep you around for your service.”

Playfully Ruark nipped her buttock, drawing a muffled protest from Shanna and hastening her journey upward. With his hand under her backside and the other steadying her leg, he raised her up until she could grasp hold of the lower part of the balustrade; then he lifted her higher until she could put her foot on the vine and pull herself up the rest of the way. When she found firm footing on the balcony, Shanna gave a soft, pleased laugh at her accomplishment and bent over the railing to wave him off.

“My thanks, sir dragon,” she called softly.

Ruark chuckled lightly as he swept his arm before his chest and bowed. “Anything to be of service, madam.”

He strode off with that slow, deliberate saunter that reminded her so much of a hunting animal. Fascinated, Shanna watched until she could see him no more. She turned languidly, lifting her hair high off her neck as she smiled to herself, her eyes dreamy and bright with a glowing radiance. She moved into the bedroom, tugging at the ties of her blouse, and froze as a figure stepped from behind the draperies.

“Sir dragon, indeed!” The voice was heavy with displeasure.

“Hergus!” Shanna gasped and tried to quiet the frightened pounding in her breast. “You scared me nigh free of my wit! Why are you about at this hour? And in my room?”

“I was worried 'bout ye. I know how ye fear the storms so, and I come to sit with ye 'til it passed. When I found ye gone, I waited, fearing yer pa might come, too. I was set to put meself in yer bed and make him think it were you there safely asleep, as ye should've been, had ye any sense.”

Anxious to be alone with her own thoughts and memories of the hours passed, Shanna was not in the mood to argue with the woman.

“I'm going to bed,” she firmly stated. “Stay if you will or go. It makes no difference. But whatever, hold your tongue. I won't listen to you at this hour of the morning.”

Brushing quickly past Hergus, Shanna crossed to the bed where she had left her nightgown. Dawn was beginning to break over the horizon, but she doffed her peasant garb, turning her back to Hergus who stood in a
much aggravated stance, arms akimbo, and wore a much-perturbed scowl. For the first time in her life, Shanna felt awkward, even embarrassed by her own nudity with the servant present, though the Scotswoman had helped her to dress almost from her first breath. Was it just the magenta hue of the wakening sun that painted the rosy glow on her breasts and thighs, or was it a brand from Ruark's body joining hers? At the flooding memory of the hours gone by, Shanna flushed with hot color and hastened to slip on the short gown.