Page 17 of Enkindling

Thirdly, there were those very principles of mine. I was far from a saint, but I knew what the Good Book said, and I did have a rather healthy conscience to contend with, thanks to my upbringing. My parents were pious people, much like the Andersons. Besides, it wasn’t as if I had some fundamentaldisagreement with the idea of chastity. I hated the thought of casual sexual encounters. My dream had always been marriage. To Will, to be sure, but marriage nonetheless even in the absence of him. I had even been engaged once, back in France.

Regardless, the last several moments had happened, and they had been glorious. I hoped God wouldn’t hold me in utter contempt for thinking that. But dark considerations like those were very discomfiting, and I was keen not to dwell on them. I had done it – I had had sex with Will. I hadn’t been able to stop myself. I hadn’t wanted to.

It was the past all over again. My parents hadn’t known about us either. It hadn’t been hard to hide. By the time we finally became intimate, Will was almost never around, and I was as focused on my studies as ever. So far as I could tell, my parents were happy to see that I wasn’t traipsing around with any of the village boys. One could wonder why I didn’t seem interested in any of the marriage possibilities I had, but I was sure my father didn’t worry about it much, seeing he disapproved of almost all the young men. Some of the girls had managed to go and get themselves pregnant – by many of the very same young men, and without being married – while I locked myself away in the house with my books, staying far away from male kind.

What a pity they had no idea that that was only because my heart had already been claimed by one far out of reach, and I wasalways waiting for him. When Will finally showed up and officially asked for my hand when I was nineteen, my parents were surprised but actually in favor.

Those were the days, I thought ruefully. Suddenly everything was looking exceedingly bright. My parents still never knew how intimate Will and I were, but the time for secrecy was about to end without me ever needing to face judgment for it. And that was the very moment fate had chosen to deal its cruel blow. I smiled wistfully to myself and thought maybe God had passed judgment after all. For months I languished at home in ruin, my poor parents unsure how to pull me from the doldrums. Then the opportunity to go to France had appeared, and I was gone, eager to get far away from the environs of my humiliation.

I did hope the future had a bright end in store for us, though,whatever else happened. I settled into giddy but cautious thoughts of being married to Will at last, starting a family. We could make this work somehow. There had to be a way. Fate wouldn’t bring us back to this point only to dash us against the rocks of despair at last, would it? I, for one, would go down fighting if it came to it. I prayed it wouldn’t.

If Will was a secret agent, he must be under all kinds of scrutiny, both from his superiors and his enemies. I had heard all sorts of whispered rumors about a “deep state” and its supposed workings, though I tended to brush such tales off as a rule. Now I shuddered. Secret agents working in the shadows to extinguish threats the public was never to see? Special forces walking the razor’s edge between order and chaos in a precarious attempt to balance the scales of justice? I could not pretend to understand, and he had not given me any details, but Will was treading dangerous waters, to be sure. And that meant so was I.

One question arose in my mind: Did I trust Will Carter? I decided I did. I would give him time. And I would go with him.What in heaven’s name have you gotten yourself into, Kathleen?I prayed I was prepared.

I did want this, whatever it meant. I wanted Will to come home to me every night, to hold me in his warm embrace and take my breath away. I flushed now as I remembered what we had just done. He was exquisite, I thought and marveled at the memory of it. His hands, his eyes, his voice, his power… I had melted for him and exulted in his fiery passion as he turned and spun me like silk, branded me as if I were his canvas, and I was. He had ravished me, both body and heart. I was his, now as then. I surrendered to an irrepressible smile, satisfaction flooding me along with just a hint of stirring hunger. Just like that, ten years of anguish had receded into the abyss, and a bursting light had taken its place. I was happier than I could remember being in ages.

I was nearly done when I heard his footsteps coming up behind me. Smiling, I dropped my knife in anticipation and leaned back into him when he wrapped his arms around me and placed a soft kiss on my neck.

“Good afternoon, my lord,” I said ceremoniously. Then I moaned with pleasure when his hands moved to cup my breasts.

“Something smells delicious,” he remarked, though he made no show of noticing anything else in the room. “Almost makes me forgive you for abandoning me like that. Imagine my shock when I reached out and fondled thin air.”

I giggled and squirmed beneath his caresses. “Did you sleep well?” I managed.

“Best sleep I’ve had in years, I tell you,” he replied, his busy hands and lips relentless. “I think there’s something about your bed. I daresay I should talk you into letting me use it more often.”

“I’d sooner have you behave, Will Carter,” I said breathlessly. “Come on, it’s time to eat.”

“I have what I want right here,” he retorted and nibbled my neck while he zoomed in on the apex of my thighs.

I slapped his hands away playfully and pushed back againsthim. “Will,stop!” It was a plea, though I had meant it as a command. “I’m serious,” I added desperately when he changed his method of attack. I turned into him, capitulated enough to give him the kiss he silently demanded, and then shoved him away.

I barely moved him, but he finally backed off. “Fine,” he said, though his eyes spoke nothing of surrender.

I swallowed. He was standing there shirtless, and I was reminded again just how arresting he was. Will was powerful and chiseled, and I found his body endlessly fascinating. He carried himself with a poise that made him enchanting because it flowed into every move he made – confidence, control, dexterity. It had certainly translated into his every move earlier. But he also sported several scars, a stark reminder that there was real darkness behind everything he was. There was even a thin scar on his neck. He told me he had almost lost his head that day. I shuddered and took a breath, ushering such thoughts away.

“Please sit down,” I begged. “I’m about to finish. I’ll bring it to you in a bit.”

He regarded me in silence before obliging.

Within minutes we were at the table having our meal.

“You’re even better than I remember,” he commented.

“You think so?” My heart swelled. “I’m happy to hear it.” Cooking for Will like this made me very happy, and the fact that he enjoyed it added exponentially to my joy.

“Well, it’s to be expected,” he said between bites. “You were an expert at all of this from the day I met you.”

“I had lots of practice.”

“That you did,” he agreed. “There’s another type of practice I’m thinking about now, though.” Mischief danced in his eyes. “It’ll require your specific cooperation. What say we pick it up after this?”

I laughed. “I’d love to. Not here, though. Your place next. I still don’t have a clue where you’re staying. I want to see.”

“The other side of town,” he said. “I can certainly take you there, but we’re already here.”

“Will,” I said softly. “The Andersons.”

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