De Warenne Dynasty: The Prize Part 48

She was so beautiful, so original, so unique-and she was his. Devlin found himself leaning over her as the room around them blurred and disappeared, as the small noises coming from the guests downstairs and the wind outside faded and vanished. Time seemed to slow. Virginia did not move. She held his gaze until their lips brushed.

A harsh sound escaped from him. He caught her face in his hands and opened her lips gently. Slowly, gently, their mouths fused and their tongues tangled. He stroked his hand down her shoulder, her arm. Urgency slammed over him. The need to explode, then and there, caused him to begin to shake.

He exercised an impossible amount of restraint and he drew away from her. "I will let you rest," he said roughly, about to get up.

She seized his arm, her grip surprisingly strong. "No."

"Virginia," he began, sitting back down as she sat up. "You just fainted." He wanted to do the right thing now.

Her cheeks were pink, her pupils dilated. "I am fine," she insisted.

"We have a lifetime ahead-" he began.

She caught his shoulders, pressing her mouth to his, and there was nothing soft or gentle or controlled about her kiss. Her mouth moved insistently, her small tongue prodding, and when he did not respond, she nipped his lip.

He lost all self-restraint. He seized her, pushing her down, taking back the kiss, opening her and thrusting inside. He knew what was coming, and something vast, huge and hollow filled him-the sensation almost like standing in the path of a gale, knowing that when it came, he would be blown away. He held her hard, tightly, kissing her even more deeply, and the gale winds came.

Thought collapsed, and with its destruction, all logic was also gone. There was only feeling-a huge madness, part desire, part triumph and something else, something different, something never before felt, swelling impossibly, expanding inside, cresting upward, outward, consuming his body and his being.

Virginia was pawing his back frantically, making small, eager cries. He somehow found the tiny b.u.t.tons on the back of her dress. "Hurry," she cried.

He simply could not speak. Emotion made it impossible. He could only pant and stare as he tore the dress away, chemise, corset and frilly drawers following. Devlin leapt to his feet.

She sat up, naked except for her garters and stockings and the diamonds in her hair. As he tore off his own clothes, she watched, her small b.r.e.a.s.t.s heaving, the tips pink and elongated. When he was naked, she held out her arms.

For one moment, he did not move, triumph washing over him, savage and barbaric and male. This woman belonged to him. But hadn't he always known that-from the first moment he had ever seen her-when she had thought to a.s.sa.s.sinate him with a sniper shot? And then he went to her.

He pushed her slowly down, smiling a little, and she smiled a little back. He spread her thighs and moved against her, and she gasped.

"Watch me," he whispered, a command, and he slowly began to fill her.

She moaned as he entered, and he found that it was him watching her now, as her eyes glazed, as her flush increased, and finally, when he was seated to the hilt, as her eyes widened with real surprise and profound pleasure. More triumph seared him, and with it, more love. Slowly he began to move.

Her eyes closed, she found his rhythm, and as one, they strained. Devlin held her in his arms, tighter and tighter still, fighting the need to explode, knowing now that this was what he would always need, forever and ever, and he kissed her cheek, her neck, her temple, as she whimpered and begged, clawing him. Then she gasped, eyes flying wide, and she cried, "I still love you!"

He stiffened, holding her as she began her climax, incredulous and disbelieving, and her words echoed. I still love you. And Devlin could no longer restrain himself, and holding her hard, convulsed into her body, time and again, the frantic chant I still love you a litany in his mind.

VIRGINIA BECAME AWARE of strong fingers easing along the side of her arm.

For one moment, as sleep slowly lifted, she was disoriented, and then she was awake.

She lay curled against Devlin-her husband-and he was stroking her arm. She tensed, recalling the wedding, the small family gathering afterward and his lovemaking. He had been so gentle.

Her eyes opened and she craned her neck to look up at him. Instantly she saw that he was staring at her, his expression soft and relaxed as she had never before seen it. In fact, the light in his eyes was just as soft, unguarded and warm. Her brows lifted.

He met her gaze and his face tightened and his lashes lowered, as if shielding himself from her scrutiny.

"I fell asleep," she whispered, shaken. Had she really seen that incredible light of warmth just then? Had he been looking at her that way while she slept? As if he loved her in return?

"Yes, you did," he said quietly, his hand now still on her arm. He smiled a little at her.

She sighed and lay her cheek on his chest. Oh, but she did like that-she could hear his powerful heart beating, slow and steady. She smiled and the love she felt for him washed over her. Trying not to love this man was simply impossible.

"How are you feeling?" he asked soberly.

"Wonderful." She looked up and grinned.

He smiled and amus.e.m.e.nt appeared in his eyes. "That is not what I meant. I was referring to the fact that you fainted."

"Oh, that!" She was dismissive. "I do feel wonderful."

"Perhaps you should eat something. I can have a tray sent up."

She smiled against his chest. Did she dare? Why not! "I am hungry," she murmured, "very hungry-but not for food."

He was still.

She glanced up.

"You are a minx," he said softly, but he was smiling.

"Am I?" she said, pleased by his remark. She kissed the muscle beneath her cheek, then slid her hand down his rib cage and his abdomen. She felt the muscles there tense.

She kissed his skin again and brushed her fingers over his manhood, which lay half-stiff upon his belly. She watched it grow with real interest and teased her fingertips over it again.

"You play with fire, little one," he murmured.

"Does this always happen so easily?" she had to ask as she began to explore both shape and texture.

There was no response.

Virginia closed her hand around him, and inside, she felt hugely hollow. She glanced slowly up.

He watched her, his face strained, his breathing harsh, uneven. He said, slowly, with effort, "If you do as you are doing, yes."

She smiled, pleased, and stroked his length. "And if I do this?"

"Then I do this," he growled, and she found herself lifted up above his body and held over his head, against the headboard. "What?" she began, and then his tongue swept over her.

Virginia held on to the headboard, gasping.

Clasping her b.u.t.tocks in each hand, his tongue washed over her s.e.x, swift and intent.

Virginia felt faint. "Oh, I can't manage," she gasped. "Do not stop now!"

He laughed as he tormented her, more deeply, more explicitly, than before.

Virginia felt her terrible climax begin and she grabbed his hand, squeezing it; he understood and before she knew it, he had pulled her down, and he was surging up into her; a moment later he had flipped her over and he was riding her hard.

She looked up into his beloved face and began to weep in pleasure. And he held her tightly, whispering, "Yes, my darling, yes."

DEVLIN SAT IN THE CHAIR BY the fire that barely blazed in the hearth, fully dressed in his naval uniform, his black hat on his knee. He stared at his bride.

Virginia slept deeply, a soft smile on her lovely face, a few diamonds still clinging to the ma.s.ses of her curling hair. She lay on her side, her back bare where the hair revealed it, the covers pulled only to her waist. He had made love to her for two nights and the day in between, and he still wanted her again.

It was 5:02 a.m., December 14. In another fifty-eight minutes he would set sail for America. He did not want to leave his bride; he did not want to go.

He did not want to go.

He stood, hat in hand. What nonsense was this? What was happening to him? He was a warrior, it was all that he knew, and of course he wanted to go to war yet again.

She sighed in her sleep.

His heart ached suddenly, hugely, then. Good G.o.d, he was going to miss her-he missed her already and he had yet to leave.

The ever-present fear, a monster lurking behind him, threatening his very life, came closer, reaching out. What nonsense was this? He had a war to attend. He might be married now, but his bride could not make him soft, she could not change his character or his choices. All the other emotions he had been feeling since their wedding, both soft and huge, were not for him. He was not in love. Love was not for him. Once he set sail, once he became a part of the wind and the sea, his legs braced firmly as he rode the deck of the Defiance, he would not be feeling like such a romantic fool and he would not miss her, not at all.

Which meant that it was time to go, now, before his foolish brooding unmanned him.

But the leave-taking was so hard.

And he thought of a hundred past b.l.o.o.d.y battles and a weariness claimed his soul-a weariness he could not deny.

Abruptly Devlin walked over to the bed. He made no move to wake her, but he stared at her angelic face, aware that he wished to memorize it. And for one moment, he thought about waking her.

But he did not. Her lure was too strong. Instead, he pulled the covers up to her shoulders. She sighed again in her sleep, and this time she smiled.

His heart lurched, aching within him.

The monster of fear came closer and seized him with a vengeance.

This woman was his wife. This marriage could change everything. He stared down at Virginia and realized that in spite of all logic in his heart he wished that he were not leaving.

Which meant that it was time to go. Abruptly Devlin turned and left his sleeping bride, his strides hard and determined.

Later, his regret would be vast.

VIRGINIA DREAMED THAT Devlin was gone.

She was in a sweet, happy place, warm and beloved, and suddenly she was chilled to the bone. Suddenly she was not in her bed, but she stood on some sandy sh.o.r.e, watching the Defiance as it sailed away. Horrified, afraid, Virginia cried out.

She blinked and found herself awake, quite naked and sitting up in bed. "Devlin?" She realized she had had a nightmare and relief washed over her.

But as she threw off the blanket, she saw that she was alone. "Devlin?" She began to feel hollow inside and sick with apprehension. She slid to the floor, beginning to shiver. The bronze clock on one bureau said it was half-past five that morning.

It was December 14.

Devlin was due to set sail that morning.

But he could not have left yet, without saying goodbye! Tearing a blanket from the bed and wrapping it around her, Virginia rushed to the sitting room, but it was vacant. Horrified, she raced into the bathing room and grabbed her wrapper. She saw a bowl of soapy water and his wet shaving brush sitting on the vanity; in the act of belting the robe, she froze.

The horror of her nightmare returned.

Virginia ran to the armoire and threw it open, dressing as quickly as she could without help. Clad in a pale green dress, shoes and stockings in hand, she ran downstairs, barefoot.

A housemaid was pa.s.sing through the hall. "Rosemary! Where is the Captain? Has he left?"

The maid appeared surprised by her question. "He left a few minutes ago, madam."

Virginia stood there, shoes and stockings dangling from her hands, stunned. He had left? He had left like that, without a word? But why hadn't he said goodbye?

"I need the carriage," she said sharply, her heart seeming quite wedged now in her chest, a painful, congealed lump. Acid burned. She sat down in a chair as the maid rushed out, pulling on her stockings and putting on her shoes.

So many memories a.s.saulted her now-his smile, his soft laughter, the way he called her "little one" and "my darling," the light of amus.e.m.e.nt as it sparked his eyes, the blaze of l.u.s.t, and his lovemaking, at times hard and rushed, at other times soft and gentle. She thought of how he had held her as she fell asleep in his arms. She recalled his declaration that he would be a good husband to her.

She brushed away her tears. Why hadn't he awoken her? Why hadn't he said goodbye?

Another terrible time came to mind, a time when she had been loved by him with both urgency and tenderness, only to find him cold and indifferent the next day.

She was ill, about to retch. There was no possible way that Devlin could retreat now to that other, horrid place, a cold and heartless place where he had once before lived. The thought was unbearable-it could not possibly happen again.

She had to find him. She had to say goodbye. And she had to see him smile tenderly at her one more time, to know that they had pa.s.sed safely through a terrible storm and that the light of a bright, gentle new day awaited them on the other side.

She could not survive the next six months otherwise.

A half an hour later her coach raced through the shipyard, pa.s.sing stored containers, loaded wagons, cranes and crates. Longsh.o.r.emen, civilians and sailors were busy everywhere. Virginia strained to see out of her window, and when her coach paused a moment later, she almost catapulted out.

A huge ship she did not recognize faced her. Other ships lined the docks, but none were the Defiance. And one berth, in their midst, was terribly empty.

Her heart hurt her now. Virginia raised her hand to her eyes to shield them from the rising sun. She looked past the docks.

And she cried out.

She knew the Defiance by heart-she always would. Perhaps a hundred yards distant, it slowly eased out of the channel, heading into the open harbor.

And there was no mistaking the tall, gallant figure standing hatless on the quarterdeck.

Virginia ran.

Holding her skirts, she ran down one dock, waving frantically. "Devlin! Devlin!" she screamed.

But the ship continued to move away, toward the horizon, and he never turned once to look back.

Virginia's steps slowed and faltered.

She paused, out of breath, panting hard. He still didn't look back and he would never hear her; it was hopeless. She stopped at the very end of the dock, staring desperately after the departing ship.

It sailed into the harbor, and once there, the main sails were unfurled. They quickly billowed and the frigate picked up speed, now flying across the seas, now flying away.