Simmer All Night (22 page)

She jumped when his tongue probed the dewy cleft. Gasped aloud at the first languorous stroke. Yelped a meager protest when he settled his thirsty mouth firmly against her and drank of her warm, sweet woman's honey.

Chrissy cried out when she shattered and gave him the gift of her hot, wild climax.

Cole could stand no more. Heart hammering, he lifted her into his arms and stood. Breath raging, he lay her down upon the bed, then quickly tugged off his boots and yanked off his pants. Blood roaring, he spread her legs and knelt between them, positioning himself to take the ultimate prize.

Her wet, narrow passage slipped around him like a glove and slowly, tortuously, he pushed forward until he felt the thin barrier of her innocence. At that point, despite the ferocity of his body's demands, his heart made him pause. He had to say something to her first. Something important. Something...

"Chrissy, I... I..."

She met his gaze and her eyes washed with tears. "Love me, Cole. If just for this one moment, please love me."

She arched her hips and the membrane gave, and Cole found himself buried to the hilt, torn between sighing and screaming as she surrounded his shaft.

Leave it to the Chili Queen to do it herself.
Then his mind hazed and instinct again took over, and he moved, slowly out, then in again, stroking, seeking, lost in a paradise of the senses.

Chrissy slid her hands up and down his sweat-slick back in time with the rhythm of his hips. Once she cupped his buttocks and held him against her, grinding, making little kitten noises of need he simply had to taste. Sweet and spicy. So good. So delicious.

With a gasp and a whimper, she dissolved.

The spasms milked him, urged him toward completion, and Cole increased the tempo of his thrusts. The tempest built, a frenzied, violent storm that roared through him, stealing his mind and his will. Cole plunged into her, lost, desperate, but not alone. She was with him. Here. Now. Thrashing beneath him.
Christina. Christina. Christina.

He threw back his head and ruthlessly, savagely, shot over the top, then fell, plunged, burst into pleasure. With Chrissy flying right there beside him.

* * *

Dazed and boneless, Chrissy stared up at the plaster scroll work on the ceiling and tried to catch her breath. Cole lay sprawled beside her, one arm thrown carelessly across her chest, his legs tangled with hers.
Oh my,
she thought.
Oh my.

She felt so complete. So replete. She knew now that she had waited all her life for this moment with this man. Though her body continued to hum and the heat in her blood had yet to cool, the edge of energy that had plagued her for so long had finally been spent. She snuggled against him, a smug smile pulling at her lips. For the first time in forever, Chrissy felt like she belonged. She had found a home, here in Cole Morgan's arms. Then he opened his mouth and took that home away.

"I can't believe I did this."

Chrissy braced herself. "What?"

"I can't believe I did this."

Anguish spread outward from her heart as he untangled their legs, slid his arm away, and sat up. "I swore I'd keep my hands off you. I promised myself I'd never lay so much as a finger on you and here I go and lay you, period. I have the self-control of a gnat. I have the honor of a badlands bandit and the morals of a Hell's Half Acre whore."

He looked at her then, his eyes narrowed and hot and condemning. A bullet of pain ripped through her, lodged in her heart as he accused, "Why did I let you seduce me?"

She slapped him.

Cole shut his eyes, the imprint of her hand white against his tan. "Better you had used your fist, Christina. It's no less than I deserve and you always did have a fine right hook."

"Stop it. Just stop it." She blinked furiously, fighting back tears. That edge of energy had returned full force. "Don't you dare ruin this with your mean mouth."

"Seems to me my mouth has already gotten me in plenty of trouble tonight," he responded grimly. "What's a little more?"

Chrissy seriously considered using the right hook, but the opportunity passed when he rose from the bed and grabbed his pants up off the floor. Distracted by the sight of his firmly muscled behind, she missed hearing the first part of his sentence.

"...can't help but feel lower than a worm in a wagon rut. I tried, truly I tried. But I couldn't find it inside me to do the right thing. I'm as weak-charactered as they come. Even now, bound for hell because of tonight's mischief, I'm fighting myself not to take you again. You are so damned beautiful. So spirited. The most exciting woman I've ever known. You have haunted me for weeks, for months. Hell, for years. I wouldn't admit it, of course. I pretended that I thought of you as a sister. What a crock. All those fiancés? Every blessed one of them set my gut to churning."

The longer he talked, the better Chrissy felt. She sat up, plumped the pillows, and settled back to watch as he continued to dress and yammer on.

"And this trip to England. I knew from the git-go it was a bad idea. I knew that being around you all the time, far from home and all the reminders of just who you are, I knew in my bones it'd get me in trouble."

By now he had his shirt back on and he tucked its tail into his pants with quick, firm jabs. Chrissy sighed with quiet dismay as he buttoned first his trousers, and then his shirt. Cole's body was truly a thing of beauty to observe.

"I was right. Took little more than two winks and a nod for me to betray my best friend, betray the woman who took me into her home and raised me like her own. It shames me to my soul, it does. Yet, at the same time, I'm itching to crawl back in bed with you and have another go at it. You are truly a pest, Lady Bug, but I've got to tell you, you are my most thrilling fantasy come to life."

A smile bloomed like a rainbow across her face. "Kiss me again, Cole."

"See, there you go again. When it comes to tempting a man, you have Eve beat all to hell."

"Kiss me again, Adam."

For the briefest of seconds, a smile brightened his scowl. "No. I'm not coming near you till you get your clothes back on. In fact, I'm not going to look at you again until that particular task gets accomplished."

"Why?"

"Because you're dangerous, that's why. If I look at you again then I'll want you again and I don't have time for that right now and neither do you. Hurry up and get dressed, Lady Bug. You might recall this house is full of people who've come to hear the announcement of your betrothal."

Actually, Chrissy had forgotten all about the ball and the betrothal. Being reminded of her situation took the smug right out of her smile. "I think I'll just stay in my room."

"No you won't." Cole stood in front of her dresser mirror as he tied his cravat. "You're going to put your dress back on and come with me to find your grandfather. I want to get this problem taken care of today."

The gloomy note in his tone caught her notice as much as the words. Cautiously, she inquired, "What problem?"

He sighed. "Christina, surely you realize you can't marry Welby now."

She studied his reflection in the glass. The hope that had kindled in her heart at his words flickered and died with one look at his sculpted and shadowed face. She'd known Cole Morgan too many years not to recognize when he was angry and trying to hide it.

She licked her lips and said, "This doesn't have to change anything."

He whirled on her then, his eyes blazing. "It damn sure does. If you even begin to think I'll let you go to another man after what just transpired between us in that bed, then you don't know me at all."

"Cole, I—"

"I might have planted my child in your belly. Have you thought about that?"

Chrissy felt the blood drain from her face.
Oh, no.
That possibility had not yet occurred to her.

Cole continued, "Under the circumstances, we've only one solution." He scooped her discarded clothing up off the floor and tossed them to her. "Get dressed and say good-bye to fancy mansions and titled lords, Lady Bug. You've hooked yourself up with a statute wrangler who is happy living in a rooming-house."

"Do you mean...?"

"We have to find your grandfather and tell him there's been a change in groom. You and I are getting married."

Chapter 9

Cole thought it particularly appropriate to be using the underground tunnel leading from the manor house to the orangery in search of the Earl of Thornbury. After all, he certainly felt like a rat.

Not that the tunnel was a dark, dirty haven for rodents. Though it smelled a little musty with all the rain of late, this particular passageway was brick-lined, lantern-lit, broad enough and tall enough to accommodate four men walking abreast. No, the reason Cole felt like a rat was the bait he'd so recently tasted who now scurried beside him and chittered in his ear.

"You can't do this, Cole," Christina insisted yet again. "Would you stop for a moment and listen to me? I said you can't take it upon yourself to break my engagement to Welby and take his place without so much as a by-your-leave to me. I'll make my own decisions, thank you very much. I'm not some weak-willed twittering female who will allow a man to push her around, do you hear?"

Nope, he was the rat. She was a piece of cheese dangled before the rodent, a mouth-watering Chilton, he thought. "Watch your skirt, Christina. There's a puddle of water up ahead. Wouldn't want to ruin your hem."

She made a screeching sound, then lifting her skirt knee-high, took a running jump and sailed over the puddle, placing herself directly in his path. "Stop!"

He stepped around her.

Her squeal was pure frustration. Cole heard the thunk of a rock hitting the tunnel wall and knew she'd kicked it.

"I hate this. I hate being ignored. I hate tunnels. It reminds me of the time we were exploring the caverns up toward New Braunfels and you and Jake hid and made me think you'd left me alone and lost. You were a cruel boy at times, Cole Morgan. The tendency hasn't completely disappeared."

Grimly, Cole pressed on, doing his best not to listen to her harangue. The three hundred yards between the house and the orangery felt more like three hundred miles. Not only did he have guilt dragging him down and Christina wearing out his ears, another problem sunk his stomach to the vicinity of his knees. About halfway between the family wing and the little library where he'd first gone in search of the earl, Cole realized the thought of marrying Christina didn't bother him all that much. In fact, the notion sparked a thrill inside him.

At first he'd tried to tell himself it was just the sex, that for a man so thoroughly reminded of physical pleasure following an extended drought, the idea of regular relations was bound to be a heady one. But by the time a parlor maid told him they'd likely find Christina's grandfather in the orangery, he'd realized that argument didn't hold up. Sex wasn't the reason for his enthusiasm.

So what was? He had the idea the answer was important, but he couldn't think hard enough to figure it out, not with all the yammering Christina was doing in his ear.

"Cole Morgan. You listen to me. I won't be ignored."

"I know. I tried. Didn't get me anywhere."

She ran after him, grabbed hold of his jacket sleeve, planted her feet, and pulled. He dragged her three full steps before Sophie Kleberg's voice stopped him. "Hey, Mr. Cole." The little girl stepped from one of the storage cellars off the main tunnel. "What game are you and Miss Chrissy playing? Can I play, too?"

Christina released Cole's arm immediately and braced her hands on her hips. "Sophie Kleberg. What in heaven's name are you doing down here? Are you by yourself?"

"I'm here, too," said Michael, stepping from the shadows. "We're just playing."

"Does your mother know where you are?" When neither child answered, Christina continued, "I thought not. This tunnel isn't a good place to play."

"Sure it is," said Michael. "We can't break anything down here, and we've been having a little trouble in that area lately. What's a Meissen, anyway? Looked like a plain old bowl to me hut the maid brought the roof down with her shriek when we broke it. Really wasn't our fault. Can't hardly run down a hall without tripping over something."

"You shouldn't be running in the hallways at all," Christina scolded.

"But we have to run when we play San Jacinto."

That caught Cole's attention. "San Jacinto?"

Sophie nodded. "It's Michael's turn to win, so we can't play the Alamo. He never lets me be the Texans. I'm always the Mexicans. He just loves to die."

"Well the war is over," Christina declared. "At least for now. You'd best get back to the house. I imagine your mother is looking all over for you."

"Nah, she's not looking for us," Michael said. "She's busy in the kitchen. She said it's been too long since she's done any baking. She's making chocolate cake. In fact, she's making three chocolate cakes and two cherry pies. Is something wrong with our mama, Miss Chrissy? Used to be, the only time she did extra baking was when she was sad. Did something happen?"