The Earl Plays With Fire Page 22
Waves crashed headlong into the jutting rocks on either side of the cove but between the two spurs of outlying granite, a crescent of white sand lay virginal and inviting. They ran down the last of the path, holding hands and laughing as they almost lost their footing on the downhill slope. The soft sand swallowed their footsteps and prompted them to kick off their shoes. He watched smilingly as she performed an impromptu pirouette, a homage to the heart-stopping beauty all around them: the green headland and the grey rocks, the indigo sea with its white frills of foam and the evening sky now streaked with pink and purples, a harbinger of good weather.
‘It looks as though we will have a beautiful day for our wedding,’ she said quietly, intensely aware of the solitary beach and his physical presence so close to her.
‘Almost as beautiful as this evening.’
His voice was rough with desire as he ran his hands up the white arms and arrived at her shapely breasts. He pulled the ribbon of her bodice undone and began slowly to roll the dress from her shoulders.
‘Richard! This is a public place!’
‘Do you see any public here? We are as alone as we possibly could be. You didn’t used to be so cautious, Christy.’
She blushed at the memory of their youthful indiscretion, but allowed him to continue undressing her, his gaze filling her with an aching need for his touch.
He had soon divested himself of his own clothes and it was her turn to drink her fill. He was beautifully made and she felt herself grow hot and trembling.
He took her hand then, breaking the spell, and they ran together to the sea’s edge. For a moment the water’s impact took their breath away, but then they plunged headlong into the surf. Richard struck out immediately, powering through the waves towards the darkening horizon and shouting to her to hurry and join him. The cold fingers of the sea crept insidiously over her body and it was a while before the water began to warm her bare skin and slowly bewitch her with its movement. Richard was already far out and she called to him not to go further. She needed to share her delight.
He turned back instantly and was soon treading water at her side. Both of them were laughing with the sheer joy of the moment. The flaming red tresses of her hair encircled him with their ring of fire, challenging the watery environment and setting him alight. His legs slowly entwined around hers and he held her close to him, supporting her body against his, kissing her face, her arms, her breasts in rapid succession. Then his mouth found hers, his tongue tenderly teasing her lips open. She clung to him, exchanging one rapturous kiss after another, but when he felt her shiver, he released his hold and smiled tenderly down at her.
‘We should get out of the water before you catch a bad chill—I’ll race you back to the beach!’
‘You do realise,’ she giggled as they tumbled up the sands to reach their pile of clothes, ‘that we haven’t a towel between us.’
‘Why do you need a towel, when you have me?’ The look in his eyes was disturbing and she felt her breath catch.
Before she had time to protest, he had spread his jacket on the sand and pulled her down to join him.
‘This should keep you warm,’ he said softly and rolled her over to lie beneath him, his body covering hers. His voice was barely audible above the sound of the breaking surf, but its passion was unmistakable.
Slowly and inexorably their bodies melted one into another, and a dull ache of pleasure began to permeate her being. Soon her entire body was infused by a heat which spread in ever fiercer waves. It was dark now but for a handful of stars tossed into the night sky and the light of the moon edging the scene with its silver: the empty beach, the constant surf and two lovers, their bodies entwined, lost to the world.
‘Think of all the evenings we have to come,’ he whispered.
A river of desire was flowing through her and she sighed with the intensity of its pleasure, arching her body to meet his. His touch intensified and she gave up all pretence of restraint, shamelessly abandoning herself to his lovemaking, her body softening to accommodate the hardness of his form. She wanted nothing more than to give herself without thought or words to this ecstasy. His mouth covered her burning skin with kisses, piling desire upon desire, until she was crying out, swept away by an almost unbearable pleasure.
They lay together, breathless and shaking, Richard’s severely crumpled jacket swaddling them in its folds. For long minutes they lay curled in the tightest of embraces while above the black of the distant night sky offered its benign cover. Then he raised himself on one elbow and began to stroke her hair, allowing her tangled curls to flitter lazily through his fingers.
‘I can’t believe that I’ve been so lucky, after the mess I’ve made of my life—and yours,’ he murmured.
‘We’ve both been adept at making a mess of life.’ She looked up at him tenderly and brushed a lock of hair from his face. ‘Do you remember a night like this all those years ago? We came here then to escape mayhem in the house.’
He gave a twisted smile. ‘How could I ever forget? It’s burned into my memory. If I’d been less of a prig that night, the whole course of our lives would have been different.’
‘You were shy,’ she excused, ‘we both were. We didn’t know what to do with such unfamiliar feelings.’
‘Not quite so unfamiliar now,’ he teased and bent his lips to her breasts to kiss them awake once more.
She sighed her pleasure and scattered butterfly kisses over his body. ‘I can’t imagine how I ever thought our betrothal meant nothing more to you than a way of bringing our families together.’
He groaned. ‘And I can’t imagine how I could have been so stupid as to allow you to believe that!’
He tightened his grip, holding her close to his heart. ‘What an age it’s taken us, Christy, but we’ve come through.’
Her face was alight with feeling, her eyes an emerald radiance, their lustre warming the moonlit world.
‘It was worth the wait.’
‘And the pain?’ he asked, his voice rough with remorse.
‘Love is even sweeter for being so hard-won.’
With one finger she delicately traced the outline of his face, pale and glimmering against the dark of the night, and when she spoke again her voice was not quite steady. ‘And it will endure, Richard. For every moment of for ever. Nothing will separate us.’
‘Nothing,’ he breathed huskily, and took her up into his arms again, covering her face with kisses and meeting her eager lips with his.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0587-1
THE EARL PLAYS WITH FIRE
Copyright (c) 2011 by Isabelle Goddard
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