Page 21 of A Tempest of Desire
Except Langdon merely quirked up one corner of his mouth. “I usually relish the solitude, but last night I found myself wishing for companionship... and the sea delivered.”
Strange how his words caused warmth and a measure of joy to wash over her. “Even though there were no stars upon which to wish?”
“I don’t have to see the stars to know that they are there, and I’ve studied them thoroughly enough to know where they are at any given moment.”
“I suppose I should be a bit miffed if it was yourwish that brought an end to my journey in the sky, but I do think theyhaveto be visible to be wished upon. Hence I very much doubt you are responsible for my calamity.”
“I shall hope not.” He stood. “I won’t be long.” With that, he departed.
She pulled up her legs, nearly to her chest, grateful the warmth from his body hadn’t dissipated completely. She wondered how he might react if she confessed that she’d be content to remain in bed with him as long as the rain fell. Longer still. It had been ages since she’d found herself so drawn to a man. Especially one who gave the impression he couldn’t wait to be rid of her.
Perhaps that was his appeal. Like a good many people, she wanted what she couldn’t have and being denied made the object all the more alluring.
Adding some butter to the eggs he was stirring in the pot, Langdon’s thoughts shifted to earlier and how badly he hadn’t wanted to get out of the damned bed. Certainly, he’d been in more intimate positions with any number of ladies, but with Marlowe’s leg nestled between his thighs, her hand on his chest, and the narrow space separating the rest of their bodies, he’d been unable to recall when he’d ever been more aroused. Fortunately, the distance between her hips and his was wide enough so that, with his trousers keeping his cock confined, she’d been unaware of how much he wanted her.
And it waswant. Not animalistic, savage need for mating that had possessed man from the dawn of time. No, something more had been driving thisneed within him to possess her. Something more personal, more directly related to her—as if she would provide the completion of his soul.
He’d thought he might go mad, simply lying there, eyes closed, absorbing her nearness. He’d been acutely aware of her studying him, as though her hands—rather than her gaze—were roaming over him, alighting upon him. How could he be so cognizant of her? And yet something about her called to the most primitive aspect of him: to protect, to cherish, to nurture.
In spite of all the bruising, swelling, and cuts marring her face that had greeted him when he did finally open his eyes, the warm appreciation in her light blue ones nearly undid him, as though she was enamored of him, curious about him. As though she wanted him as well—in spite of all the aches and pains that had to be plaguing her.
He hated the notion that she was suffering. Because of a tumble from the sky. Christ, he could hardly believe that she’d flown in a hot-air balloon. She was an adventuress, and perhaps that, more than anything, had him anxious to determine what sort of sexual escapades the two of them could experience. Surely a woman prone to not keeping her feet on the ground could welcome and provide less-than-routine sensual delights.
That evening at the Dragons, if the time they would have had together had come about in a manner that was clearly her choice, that didn’t diminish her and treat her as an object... would she have been content with only the few hours allotted them or might she have wanted more? And whatthen? Was he to have called Hollingsworth out at dawn or convinced him to let his mistress go?
Sometime later, with two plates in hand, he strode into the main chamber and disappointment slammed into him because she’d managed to turn one of the more faded blankets into a makeshift skirt that reached the middle of her calves. She still wore his shirt, and he wondered if it would forever smell of her.
She turned from where she was standing at the window. “I was hoping to see the end of it, some clear skies in the distance.”
He set the plates on the table before the sofa, one at each end. “Could rain for days or hours. Coffee or tea?”
She began sauntering toward him, and he decided the sensual walk was done out of habit, not in any attempt to seduce him. “Tea would be lovely. I’m in need of some comfort.”
By the time he returned, she was sitting in one corner of the sofa, her legs stretched out, her feet flexing before the fire. The plate was on her lap, but she’d not touched anything.
“I have no milk.” The storm had prevented him from returning to the family estate for weekly provisions. He lifted the cups just a bit. “One has no sugar, one has an abundance. Which do you prefer?”
“Surprise me. I’m not particular.”
He wondered if the same could be said of the men in her life. He handed her a cup before settling onto the other end of the sofa, plate in hand. He set his cup on the table. “I’m sadly lacking in furniture, I’m afraid.”
“And culinary skills. The offerings very much resemble those from last night.”
“Eggs and fish are about the only things I’ve mastered when it comes to cooking.”
“If I had the correct ingredients, I could make you a right proper meal.”
“You don’t strike me as someone who cooks.”
“Like tea, I find baking comforting.” Her tone carried the tiniest bit of defensiveness.
He’d meant no insult, but he supposed neither could forget exactly what she was, and that the path she’d chosen was always an undercurrent in conversations or actions, no matter how innocent.
They ate in silence for several long minutes, his gaze wandering to their feet seeking the warmth of the fire, hers so small compared to his. Such tiny toes. He wondered if a single physical aspect of her wasn’t perfect.
Taking a sip of his sugarless tea, he mulled over how pleasant it was to be sitting here not alone, with the rain still falling, the thunder occasionally booming, the lightning flashing, and the dark clouds preventing the sunlight from getting all the way through. When he was younger, he and his brother would camp out on the island. Even if they stayed in the dwelling, at the time, it was hardly inhabitable. They explored, had adventures. He had the unsettling notion that the hours she was here would overshadow the memories from his youth. No matter how short her stay. He set his empty plate on the table. “I haven’t forgotten that you owe me an answer.”
Her voice was soft, warm. “I didn’t think youhad, but it’s such a lovely day and the answer isn’t all that pleasant for me to reveal.”
