A Kiss in the Morning Mist Page 18

  Eamon shook his head, his eyes glowing with curiosity. “No, please continue.”

  She studied his face and gave a slight nod. “She was the head housekeeper at Turning Leaf.” Theo mimicked Granny’s voice and mannerisms. “Lavinia Stark—call me Granny. She took me under her wing and became the mother I didn’t have. She taught me . . . so many things and . . . ” She paused and leaned back against the railing. “That’s where I met Henry, too. He was the youngest of the Danforth boys, and I . . . I fell in love with him the first time he came home from school. Never even had to think about it twice.”

  “Papa died shortly after we arrived. After all the years he worked with horses, he fell taking a jump he shouldn’t have taken and broke his neck. He left me with nothing except my little traveling home, but I was lucky. The Danforths let me stay on and work. Even Ely Danforth could see that I inherited a little of the magic Papa had with horses. He didn’t really like me, but he couldn’t deny how I could get his racers to run like they had wings instead of hooves. Turning Leaf’s horses won nearly every race for the next two years.”

  “You don’t only make them run, you heal them, too,” he said slowly as he took her hand, his thumb gently caressing her knuckles. “I’ve seen what you’ve done with Maizie. She’s happy and healthy now. I can barely see her scars. And look at Happy and the rest of your menagerie . . . despite their deformities, despite what was done to them, they’re happy and healthy as well, and that’s all from you. They know love.”

  “You give me too much credit.” Though she denied his compliment, she was touched nonetheless. He had noticed. Did he notice other things as well? Like the fact that she wanted him more than she wanted water to drink and food to eat?

  He shook his head, brought her hand to his mouth, and kissed each knuckle, his mustache tickling her as it touched her flesh. “No, I give credit when credit is due. You’ve done amazing things, Theo.” Despite the hat between them, he leaned toward her and hope sprung in her heart. He was going to kiss her again and make her feel things she hadn’t felt in a long time.

  A sudden attack of nerves made her blurt out, “I know nothing about you, Eamon MacDermott.”

  Out of all the things she could have said, she chose the wrong thing because he stiffened and stood quickly, forgetting all about the kiss that might have been. Face pale and unreadable, he stammered, “I . . . I . . . tomorrow promises to be a busy day so I . . . I should get some sleep. Good night, Theo.” He grabbed his hat and left the stable at a quick pace.

  Theo sat on the bale of hay and watched him disappear into the dark night. He didn’t go to his room beside the barn, but cut through one of the paddocks, heading, she was certain, to the swimming hole not too far away. She stood as well, determination no longer whispering through her, but shouting, and smiled. “Good night, indeed, Eamon MacDermott.”

  • • •

  An hour later, Theo stood at the door to Eamon’s room beside the barn. Indecision stilled her hand, though she’d come this far. Earlier, he’d held her hand and listened while she poured out memories. And he’d wanted to kiss her. If only she hadn’t opened her stupid mouth! She still wanted him though, wanted him more than ever.

  A slight breeze molded her silk and lace negligee against her skin, intensifying her sense of longing as the smooth fabric touched her.

  She turned and glanced at the house behind her. No one noticed she’d snuck out, not even the cats or the duck that slept together in the box on the back porch. Happy had only raised his head, gave a muffled woof, and then went back to sleep, his muzzle resting on his paws. No lights glowed from any of the windows, except for the candle on the kitchen table, which she could see clearly. The windows on the third floor were dark as well—her guests would not be home until sometime tomorrow.

  She raised her hand, ready to knock on his door, then lowered it again. What am I doing? I shouldn’t be here. I’m a respectable widow.

  But she couldn’t turn away. Nor could she deny herself any longer. She wanted this. Wanted him. She closed her eyes and drew in her breath, searching for the courage that had brought her this far.

  The door swung open without her knock. Eamon stood on the threshold in just his trousers, his feet bare, pipe in hand as if he were about to step outside for a smoke. Moonlight struck his bare chest, highlighting the light matting of dark hair over the ripple of muscles borne of hard work and the patch of flesh above his heart where no hair grew, the skin puckered around a smooth indentation. Theo sucked in her breath and raised her gaze to his. If he was surprised, he hid it well, although concern wrinkled his brow.

  “Is something wrong? Has something happened to one of the children?”

  She shook her head. “No, nothing is wrong.”

  His eyes bored into hers, and she looked away, warmth rising up to her face.

  “Why are you here?” he asked, his voice gentle and soothing and almost her undoing.

  Her courage faltered. How could she possibly say that she needed to be held and feel his hands caress her skin? Wanted to feel the weight of him on top of her, in her, stroking the fires of desire until she couldn’t hold a coherent thought in her head.

  “I need . . . I want . . . ” she stammered and tears stung her eyes. Why couldn’t she just say the words and tell him she wanted him? “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”

  “Theo,” he whispered, and the sound of her name eased some of the doubts. He took her hand and slowly brought her inside his room, closing the door behind them. A lantern glowed on the table, casting soft light upon the book open on the chair, where he’d just left it. His bed hadn’t been slept in, but the blanket had been turned down.

  He didn’t say a word, just put down his pipe and gently drew her into his arms. Her head rested on his chest, the soft, dark hair tickling her cheek as she clung to him, his heartbeat strong in her ear.

  “I feel so much, but I don’t know what to do.”

  “We don’t have to do anything.” His voice rumbled in his chest as his arms tightened around her. “We can just hold each other.”

  “I’m afraid.”

  “I know.” He gently caressed her hair, his touch light and comforting. “So am I.”

  “You?”

  “Yes. Does that surprise you?”

  She pulled back to study his face. He hadn’t lied. Anxiety danced in his smoky-gray eyes, but the corner of his mouth quirked upward. Somehow, she felt much better that he shared the same fears. Encouraged by his admission and the truth of it in his eyes, Theo rose up on her toes, entwined her fingers in his soft, thick, still damp hair and pulled his head down toward hers. Trembling with both fear and excitement, she touched her lips to his.

  That first taste of him sparked through her veins like the electricity that lit up the lightbulbs in Denver. Restraint flew to the wayside—and propriety with it—as she deepened the kiss, her lips sliding over his. He pulled her closer, pressing her body into his, fitting her softness to his hardness from chest to thigh and everywhere in between. She quivered within his embrace, overwhelmed with the need building inside her.

  He threaded his fingers through her hair. Then his hand smoothed along her back, causing a familiar ache to flare between her thighs. Her sex swelled and became wet.

  She broke the kiss and took a deep breath, forcing air into lungs that desperately needed it, then gazed into his eyes.

  “Theo?” His voice was a little deeper now, and sent a thrill straight to her core.

  She didn’t speak, afraid that if she did, she’d say something stupid again. Instead, she caressed the side of his face, memorizing every detail—the subtle crinkles extending from the corners of his eyes, the smile lines around his mouth shadowed by the thickness of his mustache. Joy filled her . . . his eyes were the darkest she’d ever seen them and glinted with undisguised longing. Did he see the same in hers? Could he feel how much she wanted him?

  She didn’t need to voice her questions. They were answered in the next moment
as he brought his mouth to hers and kissed her so tenderly, tears stung her eyes. Her heart raced. No, not raced. Thundered. So loud, surely he could hear it.

  And perhaps he did, if the expression on his face when he broke the kiss was any indication. He dipped his head again and took possession of her mouth, his arms holding her so close she could feel every delicious, muscled inch of him. Her knees turned to the consistency of pudding.

  His tongue slipped between her lips to caress her teeth and tongue, and a groan escaped him, as if he’d been waiting to touch her, taste her again. He backed her toward his bed until the backs of her calves touched the thick mattress, and then, as if she would break, he stopped kissing her long enough to lay her down. He stood above her and slowly removed his belt, letting the leather strap fall to the floor as his gaze roamed her satin clad body, touching her here and there, igniting the hunger within her even more. Desire settled in her belly, burning brightly, sending sparks radiating outward. “Make love to me, Eamon.”

  The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he joined her, the rock hardness of his body half covering her, leaving his hand free to settle on her fabric covered belly, the heat of his palm nearly scorching her. She sucked in her breath. Waiting. Anticipating what he would do next, wanting to take his hand and place it where she needed it most.

  “Are you certain, Theo?” His question, whispered in her ear as his hand moved across her ribs and upward to lightly caress her breast through the silk of her negligee, made her shiver. Gooseflesh rose on her skin. Her nipple hardened. His hand didn’t linger on her breast but continued upward to caress her throat, then cupped her chin before kissing the corners of her mouth.

  “Yes.” She was certain. More than she’d ever been. She drew his head closer and kissed him back, her lips parting beneath the insistent pressure of his. Her hunger for him climbed as his tongue swirled into her mouth, caressing hers, and his body pressed against hers so tightly, she felt his steely arousal against her hip.

  Yes. This was what she wanted. Who she wanted. And she wanted him now, but he had other intentions as he rose up on his elbow and gazed in her eyes, determined to go slower than she would like. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

  “I am?”

  He smoothed his fingertips along her cheek, then followed the curve of her jawline. “Has no one ever told you? Your eyes are the color of the new grass growing in the pasture, and when you look at me like you’re doing now, I am lost.” He touched his lips to the tip of her nose, then her eyelids and cheeks before consuming her mouth once more in a kiss that stole her breath as well as her thoughts. He gathered a curl of her whiskey-colored hair and rubbed it between his fingers, then flashed a smile. “Soft. So soft. Like silk.” He smoothed her hair back into place, then lowered his mouth to hers, but he didn’t kiss her. “Shall I tell you about your mouth? And what your smile does to me? And how it makes me see your goodness and your heart? Or should I tell you how much I want you?”

  “You want me?”

  He chuckled and it pleased her. More than that, it touched her heart that he could laugh with her. “Yes, Theo. I want you.” He chuckled again, his breath against her ear sending a cascade of gooseflesh down her arms and legs. He took her hand and pressed it against his heart so she could feel it beating. “Do you have any doubt?”

  His heart raced, thundering in his chest like hers. “No.”

  He lowered his head and took possession of her mouth, making her ache for more. Much more. Whatever doubts she had had, whatever shyness that had stopped her before was completely gone, replaced by a certainty that this was right.

  She slid her hand over his behind and squeezed gently, finally getting to touch the perfect backside she’d been admiring for so long. Firmer than she had suspected, she allowed herself a few moments to caress him before she tugged at the waistband of his trousers, surprised by her own wantonness. She pushed him away, breaking the kiss. “These are in the way.”

  He laughed then, from the belly, the sound reverberating through his chest and against her body. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you?”

  “Not greedy. I . . . just want to feel all of you against me.”

  “As you wish, but only if I can feel all of you as well.” He tugged on the pale pink ribbon below her breasts that held her robe closed. The bow slipped free, and he pushed the edges of silk away to reveal the nightgown beneath, then nuzzled his face against her lace covered breasts. Theo squirmed beneath his ministrations, her eyes closed. The heat of his breath, the wetness of his mouth and tongue as he nibbled and grazed first her right nipple, then the left through the open weave fabric had her clenching the blankets with one hand and his backside with the other. And then he stopped.

  Startled, her eyes flew open to see him staring at her, the corner of his mouth quirked upward as he climbed from the bed and stood beside her, his hand extended. Theo took it, and he helped her stand. He slid the robe from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a soft whoosh. The lacy nightgown came next, skimming down her body to land in a pale pink puddle around her ankles. She resisted the urge to cover herself. She hadn’t been naked with a man since Henry died, but the admiration glowing in Eamon’s eyes told her all she needed to see. He might say she was beautiful—anyone could say the words—but his gaze let her know he truly meant it.

  “I’ve waited a long time to touch you like this.” His hands came up just underneath her breasts, his thumbs caressing her already pebbled nipples, before his mouth descended on hers.

  “And this,” he whispered as he pulled away, and his lips moved lower to replace one of his thumbs and draw her hard nipple into his mouth, his tongue teasing the tight crest.

  Theo threw her head back with a moan even as she grabbed his head and pulled him closer, the exquisite combination of his soft mustache and hot mouth on her sending sparks straight to her core. As he licked and scraped his teeth lightly across one straining bud, then the other, her body tensed with anticipation. It had been so long since she’d been touched like this, she’d forgotten the power of such an intimate caress, and her knees buckled. If it hadn’t been for his arm around her waist, supporting her, she would have fallen.

  And would that be so bad? The bed was behind her. She could fall onto the soft mattress and bring him down with her.

  “Your trousers are still on.” How she held that coherent thought in her head, she didn’t know, but she wanted them off, needed to feel his bare skin beneath her hands. She didn’t wait for him to respond or to stop what he was doing—oh, please, don’t stop!—and reached between them, but she couldn’t find the buttons, not with his body pressed so close and her fingers so clumsy.

  “Patience.” He murmured against her breast, then gave another chuckle that tickled her, and sent a ripple of lusty need through her, straight to her already swollen, wet sex. She couldn’t help herself. She moaned and squeezed her thighs together, pressing her body as close to him as possible. He slowly lowered her to the bed, his knee nudging her legs apart, the fabric of his trousers rough on her already sensitized skin.

  She felt the loss of his heat as he stood, but desire smoldered in his eyes as he slowly unbuttoned his trousers, then pushed them down his hips and long muscular legs.

  Her eyes widened as she looked her fill. Sweet merciful heavens! She didn’t have time to study him, nor touch him, but in the brief moment before he joined her on the bed, she liked what she saw.

  And then she couldn’t think anymore as his lips found hers once again and his fingers slid through the curls surrounding her swollen sex and caressed her ever so gently. She reached for him, wrapped her fingers around his hard, hot shaft and squeezed. Just a little. He groaned into her mouth, and the sensation was heady indeed. Her hips rose off the bed of their own accord in a bid to deepen the pressure of his hand, and he complied without a word, his entire palm covering her. Exerting just the right amount of heaviness, he moved his hand in a tight, circular motion, alternating the speed from sl
ow to fast, then back again.

  She whimpered with need, the sensations he evoked too incredible not to, then closed her eyes, and gave herself over entirely to just living in that moment: the sound of his breathing, the taste of his kiss, the smell of him, the heat and heaviness of his body so close to hers, familiar yet different. Her body tensed and tightened. She was close, so close to the ecstasy she knew she could attain, but she wanted him inside her, wanted to feel him filling her.

  “Now, Eamon! I want you now!”

  He moved between her thighs, his hard shaft poised at her entrance. Then slowly, so slowly she thought she would die, he pushed into her, filling her completely, and she gasped, unable to help herself.

  Eamon stilled. “Theo? Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” she whispered as she dug her fingernails into his backside, pulling him in deeper. “I had forgotten how good this feels.”

  He let out a deep sigh. “So did I.” He nuzzled her neck at that sweet spot where her throat met her collarbone, then started to move in her, slowly at first, then faster, all his weight either on his elbows or nestled between her thighs. She wrapped her legs around his hips, holding him close. He shifted then, moving upward, pressing harder, deeper into her.

  “Oh!” She shouted as her body convulsed around him, joy shattering her senses. The breathless pleasure rippled through her, wave after cresting wave. “Oh, Eamon! Yes!”

  He kept his steady rhythm as her hips met his, stroke for stroke, thrust for thrust. Her body tensed again, preparing for what was to come. She tightened her legs around his hips, pulling him deeper. He changed his pace, going fast, then slowing to almost not moving at all except for his body pressing into hers. The muscles in his arms bulged, and sweat beaded on his head before he stiffened and groaned. Heat exploded from him, filling her completely as she cried out in satisfaction once more.

  Breathless, he pulled from her body, leaving her feeling suddenly bereft yet so fulfilled she could barely breathe.

  He rolled onto his back and gathered her close. “Are you all right?” His voice rumbled in his chest as he twirled a lock of her hair around his finger.