Song From the Sea (27 page)

“You can live an entire life of ‘if only, ’ ” Callie said, placing her other hand on his cheek and gently cupping his face between her palms. She gazed intently into his eyes, willing him to hear her. “You can't change what happened, Adam, and you can't know what God had in mind when He called them back to Him. You will never know, not until you go home to Him yourself. The only thing you can be sure of is that you are meant to be here now, living your life as you're supposed to. You can make it happy or you can make it miserable, and the choice is yours alone.” She smiled into his eyes. “I truly hope that you choose happiness, for that is what you deserve, and I imagine that is what Caroline and Ian would want for you also. I don't think that they'd want to see you suffering endlessly on their behalf, not if they loved you half as much as you loved them.”

Adam held her gaze for a long, silent moment suspended between them like a finely spun and equally fragile gossamer thread. Callie knew that a very great deal hung on that thread, and that Adam could choose to break it at any time. She prayed with everything in her that he would not snap the link between them, for in her deepest heart she knew that everything rested on his decision: He could choose the future and move on with his life, or he could choose the past and continue to live with pain and regret. She could do no more.

“Callie …” he said, his voice hoarse. “I think you had better find the strength for both of us and tell me to go before I do something unforgivable.”

“I don't want you to go,” she replied, her breath catching in her throat at the odd, almost desperate look in his eyes. Her heart started pounding again, but this time with a deep, unfamiliar physical excitement that left her trembling.

Adam groaned. “Callie, for God's sake, don't look at me like that or I won't answer for the consequences. I'm a man, not a saint.”

“You're as far from a saint as I can imagine,” she said, finally understanding that there was something more that she could give Adam. She could give him the strength of her body and the embrace of her love to help him remember how to live again. He had spent too long alone in the dark reaches of hell, and it was well past time for him to let the light back in. What had made her think that he could do it by himself? What had even made her think that he would be capable of feeling love again until he learned to open his heart enough to receive it? There was so much that she could give him, and she'd been utterly selfish to hold herself back just because he hadn't said the words she wanted to hear.

Callie didn't think any further. She acted instinctively and with a glad heart, shifting away from him as she pulled her nightdress over her head in one smooth gesture and dropped it on the floor. She rose to her knees, facing him.

Adam stared at her, the breath rushing out of his body. “What in the name of heaven … Oh, dear God. Callie?” His gaze drank her in, traveling over her body as if he was a starved man who'd just been offered an unexpected feast— a stunned, but definitely hungry man.

Callie smiled. She liked the way he looked at her, devouring every detail of her body that he could see. She liked it very, very much. The dumbstruck expression on his face made her feel like Aphrodite herself, as if what he saw met with his approval in every way.

She repaid the compliment, gazing at his beautiful form with the same careful attention to detail, traveling from his broad and powerfully formed shoulders down to the well-sculpted muscles that lined his ribs and his flat, ridged stom-ach—or as much of it as she could see over the top of his trousers, which sported an unmistakable and very masculine bulge. The outline of that bulge made her draw in her breath.

Adam passed a hand over his face as if he couldn't believe his eyes and stared up at the canopy over the bed. “Callie,” he said, his voice cracking, “what do you think you're doing?”

“I'm offering myself to you,” she said. “I want you, Adam, and I know you want me, so really, I can't think of anything more natural.” She had a surprisingly hard time getting the words out because her heartbeat seemed to have taken up all the room in her throat.

“You're—you're
offering
yourself to me.” He gazed at her in complete disbelief.

“Yes,” she said. “And I don't think this is the time to start behaving like a starchy marquess, Adam.”

“A starchy … never mind. Callie,” he said, looking anywhere but at her, his face pained as beads of moisture forming on his brow and upper lip, “I'm not sure you understand— when I spoke of consequences earlier—I mean, you can't just go
offering
yourself with no thought to the future.”

“Oh,” she said, wishing that he'd stop talking, for she wanted nothing more than to be back in his arms. “If you mean what I said earlier, Adam, I'm sorry that I was so difficult. I'd be very happy to marry you, if you'll still have me.”

Adam's gaze snapped back to her. If possible, he looked even more taken aback. “You will? I mean, yes, of course I will. Oh,
Callie.
” He spoke her name with such relief that for one glorious moment she could almost pretend that he did love her. Almost, but not enough to allow herself to enter into that seductive fantasy. Adam had made his feel-ings—or lack of them—all too clear.

She didn't have time to consider the subject any further. Adam pulled her hard against him with a deep groan, his arms enfolding her as he covered her mouth with his, kissing her until her senses swam and her heart threatened to burst from her chest altogether.

His hands burned with fire as they trailed down her back, up and over her shoulders and down her arms, and Callie's flesh came alive under his touch. She matched his heat with her own, her fingers twining through his thick, silky hair as he claimed her mouth again and again, his tongue lightly thrusting into the soft recesses of her mouth, each lovely stroke giving her unimagined pleasure.

She returned thrust for thrust, touch for touch, tightly wrapping her arms around his back as little moans of pleasure escaped her throat. She couldn't think, could barely even breathe, and when he lifted her up and rolled her over in one smooth movement, laying her down on her back and dropping his head to nuzzle the tender flesh of her breasts, she couldn't help crying out.

“You are so perfectly made,” he murmured, his tongue circling one exquisitely sensitive nipple, then pulling it into his mouth and suckling it. “So beautiful, so incredibly responsive,” he whispered just before unleashing the same mayhem on her other nipple.

Callie's hips jerked against the tantalizing steel of his erection that pressed against her belly, and Adam impatiently pulled away and sat up, stripping his trousers off. Callie couldn't help staring. She'd never known that the male member could look so powerful and so very beautiful. It jutted out from his body, steel and strength, and she wanted nothing more than to feel it deep inside her, where a desperate throbbing had started low in her belly.

“Oh, Adam,” she said in awe as he turned back to her. “You are magnificent.”

Adam laughed, a deep, low chuckle. “Is that so?” he said, leaning down and running his tongue down the pulsating vein in her neck, as his fingers slid over the curve of her hips and down into the downy curls at the juncture of her thighs, seeking out the cleft of her most private flesh.

Callie's legs fell apart as he began to stroke her, sliding his fingers up and down, gently opening her to his touch as he found the hard, sensitive bud of nerves at her apex and circled that with the lightest of caresses until Callie thought she really might lose her senses altogether. Her head fell back and her hands clutched at his shoulders as if he could still the shaking of her body.

“Please, Adam, please,” she begged, a spark flashing under his fingers that he teased into flames. He slipped one finger inside her in response and Callie's back arched as she lifted her hips to meet his deeply intimate touch, the flames bursting into full-blown fire that threatened to consume her.

She dimly heard a cry, not of pain, but of joy beyond bearing as her body convulsed over and over again before finally collapsing, spent.

But Adam wasn't done with her. He stroked her hair and kissed her again, and then again and more deeply, slowly, slowly bringing her back to meet him in the fire he'd so carefully built. But this time he rose over her, spreading her legs and guiding his shaft to the entrance of her body.

The hard pressure of his tip pressed against her flesh, stretching it until it burned. She wasn't unwilling, but she couldn't help but wonder how she was going to manage to accommodate his magnificence, having seen and felt the scope of it.

“This might hurt, Callie, but only for a moment and only this first time,” he murmured, his breath hot and sweet against her cheek. “I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do but break your maidenhead.”

She turned her head and met his gaze evenly. “It is part of my offering,” she said. “I give it to you with joy.”

“Callie,” Adam said very softly. “You are truly an extraordinary woman. I thank you for your gift.”

He pushed then, hard, and Callie felt a sharp, searing pain rend her flesh as he broke through her barrier and buried himself deep inside her, holding very still and breathing in deep, hard pants, his damp forehead resting against hers.

Home
, she hazily thought through the stinging pain that receded as quickly as it had come.
I've finally come home.

As he began to gently move inside her, Callie relaxed, picking up his rhythm and answering it, taking him into her heart every bit as much as she took him into her body, a radiant happiness filling her. She held him tightly, her legs lifting to embrace his hips and bring him even deeper into her, her head moving restlessly back and forth as she reached for that torch of fire that burned so brightly and felt just out of her reach.

With one last smooth stroke Adam handed it to her, engulfed by the same bright flame as his body jerked and emptied into hers, his groans mingling with her cries, his heart pounding frantically against the frenzied beat of her own.

Callie wasn't sure how long the journey back from that fiery heaven took, but at some point she became aware of her surroundings. A hushed silence filled the room, broken only by the sound of Adam's slow, deep breathing. His head rested on her shoulder and he'd flung one arm across her waist.

She looked down at him tenderly, her fingers idly moving through his damp hair. She felt strangely complete, her body languid and satiated. Sleep pulled at the corners of her mind, but she wanted to savor every moment of the amazing experience she'd just had. Adam clearly didn't have any such need. His eyes were closed, his expression peaceful. He looked endearingly young, and she couldn't help kissing his forehead.

“Lest you think I'm sleeping,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, “I'm not. I am recovering from a violent onslaught to my senses.”

Callie chuckled. “Am I meant to feel sorry for you? Obviously you need a steady diet of vigorous activity or you shall go to seed.”

Adam opened one eye. “Are you insulting me again, madam? I am thirty-three years of age and nowhere near approaching my seed years. However, I'd be happy to take you up on your offer of vigorous activity any time you choose—after we're married, that is.”

“I think I'm going to like being married to you,” Callie said, turning toward him and snuggling down into the warmth of his body. “Can we be married very soon?”

“Mmm. The sooner the better, I think. I'll write away for a special license so that we needn't wait for the banns to be called.” Adam ran his hands up and down her back and Callie shivered with pleasure. “I was going to go to London to speak to Sir Reginald,” he continued, “but now that you've seen sense I think I'll write to him instead and ask him to come here. He should meet you, and I don't want you to have to make the journey to London, not while you're still recovering.”

“Are you going to tell him everything?” Callie wasn't sure she liked the idea of too many people knowing about her memory loss. She felt silly enough as it was.

“Not exactly everything,” Adam said with a muffled laugh. “I do think we should explain how this all came about, though. He's bound to have questions and the truth, as strange as it might sound to him, will serve us best. Speaking of the truth, I'd be well-advised to return to my own room before one of the servants discovers us—we might as well pretend to be respectable.”

“You're so sweet, Adam, always thinking about the servants' sensibilities.” She stifled a yawn.

“I was thinking about my own,” he said, kissing her lightly as he disengaged himself and sat up, reaching for his trousers and pulling them on. “I'm always deeply upset when one of them looks at me with disapproval.” He bent down and kissed her again. “Sleep well, Callie, and dream of nice things. I'll see you at breakfast.”

He crossed the room, opened the door and looked up and down the hall, then slipped out, softly closing the door behind him.

Callie turned onto her side and tucked her cheek onto her hand, her other reaching out to cover the warm spot where Adam had just been. Despite the dramatic events that had unfolded during the course of the day and night, she felt strangely at peace, with not a single regret.

Well, just one. Adam didn't love her, but at least he was willing to offer her his friendship freely. That would have to be enough. She'd been given the moon. She couldn't expect the stars as well.

“You're looking very cheerful this morning, my lord, if you don't mind my saying.” Plimpton carefully wiped off the edge of the razor and reapplied it to Adam's cheek.

Adam waited until Plimpton had finished shaving him before he replied. He didn't want to run the risk of having his face nicked, and Plimpton's hands had a tendency to shake when he became excited.

“I have good reason,” Adam said, setting about the task of letting the household know that a large change was in the making at Stanton. He knew that Plimpton was the best person to inform about his impending marriage, for he would at least go about spreading the news with a degree of dignity.