When the Splendor Falls (61 page)

Leigh was sound asleep, half lying against the pillows propped up against the headboard of the bed, the crackling fire in the hearth creating a warm, golden glow around the room. She was still dressed in her wedding gown, the baby cradled in her arms. She’d pulled off the gauzy veil, and her hair had been freed from whatever style she’d worn it in. Noticing the veil had floated to the floor, he suspected she’d hastily removed it, and the pins from her hair as well, for they lay scattered across the small rag rug by the bed, a hairbrush dropped haphazardly next to them, along with a pair of silk slippers, the ribbons tangled.

Neil entered, closing the door behind him, and locking it.

He walked over to stand by the bed and stared down at her—his wife. She was asleep with such sweet innocence, unaware of the man, the husband, who gazed down at her, a tightening in his loins as passion stirred deep inside him. He started to reach out to capture a long strand of hair, but as he stretched out his hand, the baby reached out, the tiny hand grasping his finger with surprising strength for one so small. Big eyes watched him curiously, trustingly.

With a gentleness of expression that would have surprised anyone who knew Neil Braedon, he bent over and lifted the soft bundle from the curve of Leigh’s arm. He picked up the half-emptied bottle of milk and placed it on the night table. Holding the child with a tenderness of hand that he had seldom showed, Neil placed the baby in the cradle and covered her with the quilt, carefully tucking it around her. Then he rocked the cradle for a moment until the baby’s eyes began to flutter, finally closing with sleep.

Moving back to the bed, he sat down beside Leigh’s sleeping form. His hands still gentle, he pulled her into his arms. Lifting the thick tresses of golden brown hair from her back, allowing the long, silken length to drape over his arm, he began to unfasten the gown, slipping the heavy silk from her shoulders when he’d completed his task.

Drowsily, Leigh murmured something, her heavy-lidded eyes remaining closed as she shrugged her arms from the gown, helping him to undress her. “Couldn’t unfasten them myself,” she said, the curtain of hair falling across her face as she bent over, facilitating the removal of the gown over her petticoats. The froth of petticoats followed, then she breathed deeply as the laces were loosened on her corset and the garment removed.

Leigh stretched indolently, then smiled as she felt the tension leaving her as her hair was brushed, beginning to crackle as the brush was drawn slowly through the long strands again and again with untiring strokes.

Neil felt her head nodding forward, her shoulders falling back against him and he eased her over into the center of the bed, then stretched out beside her as he took her yielding body into his arms, content for the moment just to hold her against him, the scent of jessamine rising from her warm, perfumed flesh an opiate to his senses, and unable to resist, he pressed his lips to the curve of her shoulder, pushing aside the lacy sleeve of her chemise and baring the soft skin to his burning touch. His mouth moved along the lovely arch of throat, feeling the steady pulse that beat there.

“’Night, Jolie,” she said huskily, welcoming the dream sleep that was engulfing her. “No, not Jolie. Neil,” she murmured, smiling enchantingly.

His mouth lightly touched her slightly parted lips, her breath warm as it mingled with his. One of his hands slid into the thick, silken hair that spread out around them, while his other hand moved lower, sliding beneath the chemise, his fingers finding and touching her nipple, his thumb moving over the rosy crest until he felt it hardening and rising into a tight bud.

Her breasts were beautiful, he thought as he cupped one, feeling the warm firmness as it swelled in his hand. Lowering his head, he moved his lips along the gentle curve, his tongue feeling the nipple, licking it hungrily. He pulled the chemise lower, until her breasts were bared to him, and he buried his face against them, hearing her heart pounding beneath, his fingers touching the delicate outline of her ribs. His hands drifted lower, stilled momentarily by the waistline of her pantalettes, but he found the tapes that held them tied against him, and slid them lower over her hips, his fingers sliding down further to touch the soft curling hair between her legs and the womanly contours it covered, lingering intimately a moment inside, feeling the moistness against his fingertips. Reluctantly, he removed his hand to pull the pantalettes completely off, then the chemise and her silken stockings.

He gazed at her body, bathed golden in the firelight, and thought he’d never seen a woman look so beautiful. And she was just the way he’d always imagined she would look: perfectly proportioned, from the joining of the slender column of her neck to her shoulders, the breastbone revealing the delicateness beneath, to the roundness of her breasts, the firm undercurve holding them high and proud, the nipples a delicate rose pink, to her narrow waist above the gentle curving of slender hips, the slightly darker triangle of hair curling between her thighs, her legs long and lean, tapering from smoothly muscled thighs to elegantly shaped calves and feet.

He looked at his tanned hand against the magnolia-softness of her flat belly, her hipbones jutting out slightly, and caressed the creamy flesh between, his hand touching her navel, then slipping lower to find again that intimate joining of thigh and hip, his lips lightly touching her slightly parted mouth, kissing her as he had dreamed a thousand times of kissing her.

Leigh was lost in the eroticism of her dream, experiencing feelings she’d never known, her body responding with a treacherous will of its own, the well-aged brandy she’d consumed burning like fire in her blood. The hidden desires she would never have allowed herself to explore in the dark recesses of her soul were now revealed to the fiery light of the passion that spread like wildfire through her.

How often had she dreamt this? she wondered in growing confusion as she felt Neil’s hands on her body, touching her, his mouth against her lips, kissing the breath from her, his body burning hers wherever it touched. She felt an incredible sensation suddenly snake through her wildly, vibrating with a tingling awareness of something deep within her. There was a feeling of fullness between her thighs as she felt a strange warmth, a moisture as the pressure continued to build, spiraling higher inside her belly and she arched her hips sensuously against the gentle, yet insistent probing that had entered the most intimate part of her body, the rhythmic movement steadily going deeper, without lessening its throbbing beat. Suddenly she gasped, unable to control the blossoming of feeling that filled her, as if petal after petal of a flower were opening to the life-giving warmth of the sun.

A voice spoke roughly in her ear, tickling her. Leigh drew a ragged breath, feeling vaguely uneasy, then shivered as she felt a coldness touch her. She groaned slightly, opening her heavy-lidded eyes, slumberous with passion.

Her heart started to pound even faster as she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes, and the vision of Neil Braedon standing naked before her like a pagan god. The flames from the fire surrounded him, dancing over the sinewy muscles that rippled like molten gold, his golden hair hanging loose around his neck and shoulders.

Her startled gaze lingered for a moment on the hard length of manhood that rose challengingly from the matting of hair at the base of his taut belly, then she glanced up at his face, meeting his intent stare, his gray-green eyes glittering as they caressed her.

Leigh opened her mouth to speak, unable to believe what had happened. She started to rise, then became aware of her own nakedness and knew it wasn’t a dream, but before she could cover herself, Neil had joined her in the bed, his arms sliding around her shaking body, molding her close against him.

“Let me go,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Never,” Neil answered thickly, his voice roughened with passion, his mouth silencing her protests, the hardness of his manhood pressing against her thigh.

His hands moved slowly over her, seducing her with their touch as they fondled her, learning the secrets of her body, stealing her resolve from her as she felt his hand resume its play between her legs, the sensations she’d thought only part of a dream responding to him, not to her as she felt the intrusion of his fingers inside her, rubbing the soft flesh until she felt a strange quivering that left her trembling.

Her lips had parted from the increasing pressure of his mouth, his tongue tasting of hers, seeking the softness of touching, his kiss deepening until she was breathless.

Suddenly, his mouth left hers, and he drew away from her, allowing their bodies to part. Taking her chin in his hand, Neil stared down into Leigh’s flushed face, feeling as if he were lost forever in the dark blue depths of the eyes staring at him with such confusion.

“One night, Leigh. That is all we may ever have together. Forget the reasons why we married, why we are together,
except
that we want each other. Infatuation? I believe it much more, but whatever this is between us, will you let me love you tonight?” he asked simply, the chiseled lines of his hard mouth softened with passion, his pride forgotten as he waited for her response.

Suddenly, the aching loneliness, the heartache of the last four years overcame any false pride that would have kept her from becoming his lover. The cold, barren years that would stretch ahead if she denied him now, the thought that she might never have another chance to say yes to him, to give him the love she’d hidden in her heart for so long made her catch her breath painfully. She was his wife, and now she wanted to be his lover.

A marriage in name only was not what she wanted, despite what she had told Adam. She knew now that he had not been in love with his first wife, that he held no cherished memories that would fight against her love, there were no ghosts she had to fight to win his love. She no longer cared why Neil had married her. Infatuation? It no longer mattered. She did know that he wanted her, that he had desired her for years, and now, that was enough, Leigh thought, and in that moment of discovery, truly becoming a woman—the woman who would love Neil Braedon forever.

The gray-green eyes that had been watching her so closely widened imperceptibly, his breath catching when he felt the tentative touch of Leigh’s hands moving over his chest, her palms rubbing across his hardened nipples, then down to his belly, sliding over the tautness of muscle, her hand finding the thick matting of golden hair and sliding through it roughly to close over him, holding him with a gentle touch now, her fingers leaving a circle of fire with their play on the shaft of his manhood, hard and throbbing between their bodies.

“Yes, tonight is ours, Neil, and for no one else,” Leigh promised.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her beneath him as her arms wound around the strong column of his neck, the fingers of one hand threading through his hair, while the others entwined themselves around the rawhide thong that held the leather pouch around his neck.

He stared into her eyes, searching for something elusive in the deepening indigo as he parted her thighs with his, feeling the softness of her flesh slide along the outside of his. Raising slightly, he kneeled over her, then he entered her, slowly moving deeper inside. Sensing the shield of her virginity, he tensed, almost unable to control the bunching of muscle in his loins as he poised above her, then cupping her buttocks, and widening the spread of her legs, he thrust himself deep, tearing the fine membrane, the blood that flowed his prized proof of possession.

Leigh felt the momentary, searing pain, and met his gaze in wounded surprise, but then his mouth closed over hers, caressing her lips, his tongue seeking hers, moving against it caressingly, his hands beginning to fondle her buttocks, and she felt herself opening wider inside to hold him as he filled her with a warmth that sent waves of feeling washing over her leaving her panting for breath. He stilled, giving her time to grow accustomed to the feel of him inside of her, and he kissed her, his mouth returning again and again to her lips, until they were swollen and tender from his.

Then she felt the hard, throbbing length of him sliding inside her with an undulating movement, driving deeper and deeper with each slow thrust of his hips against hers and she moved in response, feeling a sense of excitement sweeping over her as she rode with him, holding on tighter to the rawhide strap around his neck, racing the storm that threatened to overtake them, his heart sounding like thunder, lightning flashing behind her eyes as she felt him touch the center of her being and she cried out with the joy of it, knowing that nothing would ever be the same in her life.

With a sense of triumph, he heard her cries of pleasure as she moved beneath him, and he felt himself drawn deeper into her, sheathed by her warmth, the moist, tingling flesh enfolding him gently, caressing his manhood, holding him inside of her. They were one, and never again would she be apart from him, even when they were separated physically, she would be his. He knew her now as a lover. They had shared the intimacy that made a man and a woman one. She was his—and he belonged to her,
if
she ever chose to claim him.

He could bear no more as he took her, and never had a woman pleased him as much as she. He plunged deep inside her, the tightness that closed around him heightening his pleasure as he felt the throbbing of her womanly flesh around him. Holding her buttocks he pulled her closer and closer, until the flatness of his belly pressed against hers, their hips locked together as his rhythm increased, her slender thighs wrapped around his hips and reminding him of the way he first had seen her, riding her horse with such gracefulness of movement, and he filled her womb with his seed as he climaxed, exploding inside her, hoping he would leave something of himself deep within, where it would be nurtured, and flower, for he would have her, and only her, bear his children.

* * *

She was asleep when he left the warmth of her bed and dressed. He stood staring down at her, wishing he could remain by her side forever, but once again he had to walk away…then he smiled, for he would carry the memory of her lovemaking with him this time. He pulled the quilt over her bare shoulders, his hand lingering against the softness of her breast, then he pressed a tender kiss against her lips and was gone.