Swept Away Page 6

  Eden stilled his words with her fingertips. “No, not another word about death tonight. Tomorrow in the sunshine, on the way to Briarcliff, we can talk about it as long as you like, but no more tonight.”

  Alex took her hand and placed a kiss on her palm. “You are a priceless treasure, Eden, truly you are.” Readily agreeing to her suggestion, he left the bed to search among the bottles of cologne atop his chest of drawers. When he returned, he was holding a lavender bottle made of delicate hand-blown glass. It was fashioned in the oval shape of a newly opened rosebud and its stopper was topped by a hummingbird that had paused in flight to savor the flower’s nectar.

  Eden could not recall ever seeing anything quite so exquisitely beautiful. “Is that perfume?” She had brought along her favorite scent, but thought perhaps the lovely bottle contained a fragrance he preferred.

  “This has a pleasant scent, but it’s not perfume,” Alex explained, but he could think of no way to describe the exotic liquid’s true value. Setting the stopper by the lamp, he shook the bottle, and capturing a few drops on his fingertips, he spread them on Eden’s lips. “Do you like the taste?”

  Eden ran her tongue over her lips, then smiled at their sweetness. “It’s more delicate than honey, or maple syrup, but it’s very good. What is it?”

  “Merely an oil to use for massage.” This time Alex pulled away the sheet so he could spread a thin coat of the pale liquid on the tip of Eden’s right breast. When he leaned down to lick it off, she ran her fingers through his hair to press his face close.

  “Is that how to give a massage?”

  Alex’s answering chuckle was low in his throat. “It’s how I like to do it.” He sat back then, quite pleased with the way the evening was progressing. He could recall his first wedding night vividly. Eleanora had been so shy he had had to ply her with brandy for half the night before she had gotten in a sufficiently loving mood to allow him to consummate their marriage. In time she had become an affectionate wife who always pleased him, but she had never been as delightfully wanton as Eden already appeared to be.

  Eden’s lips began to tingle slightly and she licked them again. She watched Alex rub the sweet-tasting oil on his own nipples and understood what he wanted her to do when he placed his hand on her shoulder to draw her near. The coarse curls which covered his chest were still as dark as his hair had once been. They tickled as she pressed her mouth to his flesh. His skin was warm, and she began to feel a delicious heat filling her own body as well.

  Alex shed the last of his clothing, then continued to play a teasing game with the scented oil. While its full effect wasn’t noticeable for several minutes, Eden soon learned it left a trail of fire wherever it touched her skin. It was merely a drop or two at first, on her earlobes, at the base of her throat, again on the flushed tips of her breasts, and each time he kissed the slippery substance away, she would repay the favor in kind.

  She soon felt so dizzy she was sorry she had not allowed Alex to extinguish the lamp, for the room’s furnishings seemed to be spinning around the bed at a most alarming rate. She had sipped her wine slowly all through supper and knew she had not been inebriated when they had walked up the stairs, but she could not understand what had happened to her now. She had never felt so light-headed, and yet at the same time her senses had grown painfully acute.

  She closed her eyes, hoping to shut out the distracting visual images that surrounded her but found that self-imposed darkness only increased her dismay. She now felt as though she were falling, slowly sinking into the most delicious sensation she had ever experienced. Alex’s touch was soft and sure as he parted her thighs, and before she could tell him not to spread the oil’s tormenting heat in so intimate a place, he had already done so. It did not burn her delicate flesh, but the effect of the fiery potion was immediate. It created a craving for release that overwhelmed the last of her reason. She called out to him, but all that escaped her lips was a breathless plea for a fulfillment of the night’s spiraling journey into pleasure’s core.

  She tried to open her eyes, even though she feared Alex would be no more than a blur, but she could not manage even so simple a feat. Remarkably, in her mind’s eye she could see them both sprawled across the bed, the neatly ironed bedclothes now tangled beneath their oil-slickened bodies. She had never had the opportunity to observe a couple making love, and while she knew she could not possibly be watching herself and Alex, that was who she saw.

  She watched the fascinating scene unfolding in her mind and at the same time she could feel Alex’s fingers slide inside her, preparing a slippery path. He had already awakened the most primitive of human needs and she clutched his shoulders, urging him to finish what he had begun. She saw him shift his weight, and watched the muscles ripple across his back as he positioned himself above her. When he hesitated a moment, she noticed they were a striking pair, for he was dark while her usually creamy skin was flushed with a rosy glow that extended from her cheeks to the tips of her toes.

  In the next instant she felt the blunt tip of his manhood brush against her, but he retained the same languid rhythm that had marked his gestures all evening. After his first shallow probings, he began to plunge deeper with each new thrust, but with deliberate care he withdrew each time he felt her grow tense. As relentless as the rising tide, with every new approach he filled her more completely until finally he lay fully contained within the warm channel that he had taken such care to prepare. That her body had accommodated his so easily convinced Eden she had been born to be his mate. That it had been Alex’s clever use of the exotic oil that had permitted them to join so easily did not occur to her.

  Eden slipped her arms around Alex’s waist as she returned his deep kisses. He seemed content, but she knew there had to be more to making love, and impatient to discover it, she rolled her hips against his, silently demanding that he continue and show her all there was to see and feel. This time he abandoned his cautious pace, and lost himself in the wonder of her eager acceptance. She felt the rapture she had craved swell within her, and poised on the edge of paradise, she lunged for it. Her graceful writhing drove Alex to increase the speed of his deep thrusts until the blinding moment of ecstasy overtook him with a convulsive shudder that echoed hers in endless ripples of joy.

  A long while passed before Eden became aware of Alex’s weight, but she found it very pleasant to be pinned beneath him still. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her throat and cuddled close. She ruffled his soft silver hair and decided her mother had been right: there was nothing more glorious than being with the man you loved.

  As they left for Briarcliff the next day, Alex sent his cook’s son to deliver a message to Raven. It took the poor lad a long while to locate the dock where the Jamaican Wind was moored, and then he had to wait for more than an hour for the captain to return from an errand.

  Recognizing both the messenger and the heavy vellum stationery, Raven ripped open the envelope, afraid it contained bad news, but not in his worst imaginings had he envisioned the hastily scrawled note would announce an elopement. Stunned, he handed the boy a generous tip for his trouble and sent him on home. He then retreated to the quiet of his cabin, where his temper swiftly erupted into a blazing fit of fury.

  “The diabolical witch!” he shrieked, for he could make no sense of what had happened. As far as he knew, Alex had meant to be honest with Eden about his heart condition. How could he have married her instead? Alex was not the type of man to make spur-of-the-moment decisions. All his judgments where well thought out and sound. Raven was positive there was no way he could have been the one to suggest marriage. No, it had to have been Eden’s idea.

  She was a rare beauty, and obviously bright, but he had not even suspected she possessed a character so devoid of morals as this ridiculous elopement proved her to have. Had she enticed Alex into marriage by promising to make his last days happy? Or had she simply seduced him then demanded he offer marriage? What had the bitch done to talk Alex into a m
arriage that could not possibly endure?

  “She’ll kill him,” he swore under his breath. “As surely as putting a pistol to his head, she’ll kill him with that luscious body of hers.”

  Unable to shake that hideous thought, Raven paced his cabin with an anguished stride. He knew Alex was no fool. If what he wanted was a gorgeous bride who would probably not mourn his passing more than five minutes before she began to count his money, then he would not interfere. He would not criticize her as long as Alex lived, but the instant the dear man was buried, he would vent every last ounce of his anger on his widow.

  It might be impossible to prosecute Eden for murder, but he would never allow her to forget that she had hastened Alex’s death. Every time she lured Alex to her bed, she would be shortening his life, and no matter how loudly she protested her innocence, Raven would call her a murderess.

  Chapter Four

  July 1863

  They would not meet again, so Raven had not bothered to remember the petite brunette’s name. She was pretty, and her figure possessed alluring curves, but the pleasing nature of her appearance had had no effect on the blackness of his mood. Her conversation consisted of the adoring praise he had come to expect from her kind. He was not really listening to her, and could not have said what sort of personality she had. He was all too aware of her heavy perfume, however, for it filled the garishly decorated room with a near suffocating stench. It was too late to rise from her bed to fling open the window, but Raven wished he had had the foresight to do so when he had first stepped across the threshold.

  As the agile brunette moved astride him, her shiny, black ringlets swayed across her pale breasts, but Raven failed to notice the stark contrast between her ebony hair and fair skin that other men found so appealing. Her nipples were the color of milk chocolate but he had not been tempted to sample their taste. Instead he reached up to roll the tips between his fingers until they became taut buds.

  Responding to the tenderness of his touch, the girl licked her lips suggestively and began to move her hips with a sensuous rhythm to bring him to climax again. He was a lusty man, but she was confident she could satisfy his every need. She thought him extraordinarily handsome, and told him so repeatedly, but his expression remained disappointingly remote. Not discouraged, she began a circular motion that brought their bodies together in a new and, what she considered, even more exciting way.

  Raven continued to fondle her breasts, but the warmth of the brunette’s skin did not make him feel any less alone. Tall and well built even in his early teens, he had often spent an idle afternoon in a whore’s bed, and none had ever guessed how young he was. The thrill of being with a woman had been enough then. Now he possessed the same strong sexual appetite and stamina, but the release he found joining with strangers, no matter how pretty, was no longer half as sweet.

  He felt the first stirrings of ecstasy fill his loins and dropped his hands to encircle his companion’s waist. He controlled her motions then, forcing her to slow down to make the feeling last until he could no longer restrain the force of his passion. He let it wash over him then, felt his body grow tense at the instant his seed shot forth, but the peace he had hoped to find with a woman again eluded him.

  “I did not please you?” the brunette asked, puzzled when Raven swiftly left her bed.

  Pausing at the washstand in the corner, Raven scrubbed hurriedly before pulling on his clothes. He did not want any reminders of the time he had spent with her and wished he could have taken a hot bath to thoroughly remove her sickeningly sweet scent from his body before he returned to his ship.

  “Did you hear me complain?” he asked gruffly.

  “No,” the brunette replied. “I did not hear you say anything at all.”

  Once dressed, Raven jammed his feet into his boots, then tossed a generous amount on the rumpled bed. “I didn’t come here for conversation.”

  As he reached the door, the brunette rose up on her knees and called out to him, “When will you come back to see me?”

  Never, Raven thought to himself, but he left the room without dashing her hopes with that bitter farewell.

  It had been only a week since Alex and Eden had left for Briarcliff, and Raven had lost count of how many pints of ale he had drunk and how many women he had paid for what passed for affection in all too many sailors’ lives. He had not returned to the townhouse, nor had he sent anyone to collect the mail. He thought it likely several invitations must have arrived, but he did not care enough about anyone he had met to attend the last of the season’s parties now that Alex was not there to insist that he go.

  Alex enjoyed himself everywhere he went, but despite his constant encouragement Raven had never been able to match his uncle’s keen appreciation of life. Their personalities were entirely different, of course, and always had been, but it pained Raven that he had been unable to master Alex’s talent for savoring the moment. His nature was far more serious, but his mood had seldom been as gloomy as it had been since Alex’s elopement.

  Wisely, his crew had stayed out of his way; unfortunately, Stephanie Lawton was not nearly so clever.

  Soon after Raven had returned to his ship, Stephanie alighted from her family’s carriage and with an unladylike haste, dashed up the gangplank. Raven ignored Randy MacDermott’s snicker and strode across the deck to meet her, but before he could greet her properly, she grabbed his hands and began an insistent plea.

  “Is there a place where we might talk in private? Your cabin, perhaps?”

  Alarmed by that request, Raven stared down at the brown-eyed girl, wondering why he had not instantly realized how closely the brunette with whom he had spent the better part of the afternoon resembled her. “I’m not accustomed to receiving young ladies for tea. My quarters can’t possibly be grand enough to entertain you, Lady Stephanie.”

  Frustrated by the coolness of that response, Stephanie’s voice took on a petulant whine. “We’ve got to talk about what’s happened, and we need some privacy to do it.”

  Recalling all too vividly the disastrous result when Eden had made that same request, Raven shook his head. “I’ll escort you home. Your carriage will have to be private enough.”

  Stephanie bit her lower lip to stifle a moan of disappointment as she turned to look toward her carriage. The gleaming black vehicle would indeed provide privacy, but she was not at all certain the journey home would be long enough for what she wished to accomplish. Hoping to make the best of the time they spent together, she smiled coquettishly as she turned back toward Raven, but when his expression failed to become more sympathetic, she gave up as futile the effort to speak with him there. Resigning herself to letting him have his way, she took his arm for the walk down the gangplank and returned to her carriage. When Raven was comfortably seated across from her, and their journey underway, she began to confide in him.

  “I know you must be as dreadfully embarrassed as we are by Eden and Alex’s elopement. Mother and I may never recover from the shock. I’m certain you can imagine how difficult this is for my dear mother to bear. Her sister created the same scandal twenty years ago, and now Eden has followed in her mother’s footsteps and given no thought to her relatives’ feelings. Oh, we’ve gone to all the parties as though nothing were amiss, but we can’t help but hear the gossip. To elope is so dreadfully common, don’t you agree?”

  Common was not the word that came to Raven’s mind, for in Alex’s case he considered it madness. He took a perverse pleasure in arguing with Stephanie, however. “I always thought elopements were regarded as romantic.”

  “Perhaps it is when a chambermaid runs off with a chimney sweep, but surely not in this case.”

  “An earl is not allowed to be impetuous?” Raven taunted with a sly grin. He knew he should have been agreeing with Stephanie since he was as outraged over the haste of his uncle’s marriage as she was, but he simply could not stop himself from taking the opposite view just to spite her. They might have spent many hours together, but he ha
d not developed any warm feelings for the self-centered girl.

  “Of course an earl is allowed to be impetuous if he is in love,” Stephanie admitted reluctantly, “but there are far more acceptable ways to go about it.” She was dressed in dark blue, and nervously brushed a bit of lint from her skirt before looking up at him.

  “Is that all you wished to say to me, that you are embarrassed by the gossip my uncle’s elopement has caused? If so, there is absolutely nothing I can do to help you. The damage has already been done and you’ll simply have to live with it.”

  Clearly Raven thought her complaint too trivial to merit mention, but Stephanie did not. She was bright enough not to belabor the point with him, though. “No, that was not the primary reason I wanted to see you.” She reached out to pat his knee lightly, but drew her hand away when she felt him flinch. “I, that is, my mother and I, have missed seeing you. We thought if you were unwilling to attend the Russells’ ball this evening alone, that you might consider going with us. I’m sure you’re not the type of man to allow gossip to determine your actions.”

  “Is that a dare?”

  Stephanie now found herself flinching under Raven’s menacing stare. Until that very moment, she had always thought the darkness of his coloring lent him a wonderfully appealing air of mystery. Now she wished his eyes were not as black as coal when it made his thoughts impossible to read. “No, not at all,” she insisted when she had recovered her poise. “It’s merely that both our families are involved in what appears to be the season’s most delicious scandal and I thought we could comfort each other.”

  “I’m not in need of comfort,” Raven declared firmly, or at least not the type of comfort that she could provide he did not add.

  Stephanie fussed with her kid gloves, tugging on them as though their fit were not superb. “I have missed you,” she whispered, silently praying he would reply with something sweet even though he had never used even the slightest endearment with her. When Raven appeared to be too astonished by that confession to say anything at all, she quickly moved to his side and threw her arms around his neck.