Chapter 15
“Catherine?”
The library was in almost total darkness with the only light coming from the embers of a dying fire. Rian strained to hear a response to his inquiry, but none came.
Although he believed it to be a waste of time, he nevertheless called out again, a little louder this time while he tried to imagine where else she might be.
“Catherine?”
Silence. And then, as he turned to go, there came a soft whump from across the room. Being careful not to bump into any furniture, Rian followed the noise and discovered Catherine lying peacefully on the carpet next to one of the overstuffed chairs. Noticing the empty decanter on the floor next to her, he wasn’t sure if what he’d heard was the empty carafe falling from her hand, or her body as she slipped from the chair to her now recumbent position. It was a lucky thing the glass decanter had not broken, but then it hadn’t had far to fall.
He bent on one knee and leaned over the horizontal body, brushing an errant curl from Catherine’s forehead as he gazed down at her. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted. Rian wondered just how much of the decanter’s contents she’d consumed.
“Catherine, wake up.” He put a hand on her shoulder and gave a gentle shake.
His efforts were met with an irritated mutter as she tried to dislodge his hand. Undeterred, Rian continued shaking, an amused grin on his face, until finally Catherine opened her eyes. It took some effort, and was accompanied by a lot of blinking, but eventually she focused on him. The semi-glazed expression told Rian Catherine had gone beyond tipsy, and was, in fact, quite inebriated. Picking up the empty decanter from the floor, he sniffed the neck cautiously. The aroma of sweet brandy tickled his nose.
“How much of this did you drink?” he asked, trying to sound stern as he helped her to a sitting position.
She peered at the decanter as if she’d never seen it before. The crease between her brows deepened, and then recognition made her open her eyes wide. “All of it,” she answered, punctuating her remark with the most spectacular belch. “’Scuse me!” She put a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle the sudden fit of giggles that quickly followed her impressive burp. Rian picked up the empty decanter and put it on the table as the giggles gave way to hiccups. “It was very good—hic!—but s’all gone—hic!” Her voice matched her expression. Both were wistful until the solution to the problem presented itself. “Let’s get—hic!—s’more!”
Assuming she had found an ally, Catherine tried to get to her feet, but in doing so lost her balance and fell back into the chair. Her giggles became peals of laughter, interspersed with hiccups.
“I can’t—hic!—get up!” she blurted.
“Allow me to assist you,” Rian said, taking hold of her arms and helping her to her feet. She swayed unsteadily against him.
“You drunk I’m think, don’t you?”
“No,” Rian told her, doing his best to be serious, “I know you’re drunk.” Holding her firmly, he relished the feel of her in his arms, drunk or sober. “Did you enjoy yourself at the party?” he asked.
“Yes, very much.” Swaying alarmingly, she began looking around as if she had lost something. Rian tightened his hold about her waist. “It was nice—hic!—until she came.”
“Who?”
“Her!” She poked him hard in the chest with a finger, and Rian knew all too well whom Catherine was referring to. “Your lover!” she stated in an exaggerated whisper as she held up the same finger and now stared at it, as if trying to recall what she’d been using it for only moments before. The effort made her slightly cross-eyed.
“Isabel is not my lover.”
“Liar,” she contradicted, good-naturedly.
All interest in her finger now lost, Catherine leaned forward and rested her head against Rian’s chest as her hiccups finally ended. He moved his hand gently across her back, his palm making wide circles. He had dreamed of a moment like this, only in his fantasy he didn’t remember Mrs. Hatch’s excellent brandy playing such a pivotal role. He sighed softly. Catherine’s head was going to hurt like hell in the morning.
“I wish I was your lover,” she mumbled.
The blood rushed through him, pounding in his ears and making him think he had misheard, even though he knew he had not. She was drunk and it was doubtful she would remember much of anything in the morning, including this conversation between them, but alcohol did have a way of relaxing a person’s inhibitions, allowing them to reveal things they never would when sober. Rian swallowed a couple of times. He knew, given her current state of intoxication, it was unfair of him, but he asked the question anyway.
“Are you certain that is what you want?”
Catherine raised her head from his breastbone and gazed at him. Her expression was a mix of unfulfilled lust and naive wantonness. Saying nothing, she carefully took the same finger she had poked him with, and placed it over his mouth, tracing the curve of his lips with her finger. She narrowed her eyes in concentration.
He opened his mouth slightly and she pulled gently on his lower lip, letting her wayward finger trace the soft warmth inside. He couldn’t stop the groan that escaped him as she then put the same finger on her own bottom lip, sliding it back and forth. She had no idea what she was doing to him, but the sudden swelling in his breeches threatened to show her if he didn’t regain some measure of restraint. Taking her finger from her mouth, Catherine looked up at Rian and smiled. It was a sultry smile filled with the promise of sex, yet still managing to stay deceptively innocent.
“You haven’t kissed me.” Now she sounded more petulant than drunk.
“I didn’t know you wanted me to.”
“You said I would know…that I would ask you.”
He nodded “I remember.”
“Well, I’m asking.”
She tipped her head back and he could see the pulse throbbing at the base of her throat. Dear God, did she have any idea what she was doing? The brandy had done its job well, perhaps a little too well, and Catherine’s inhibitions had gone far beyond relaxed. They had been totally stripped away, giving Rian a glimpse of the woman that lay beneath. Someone he had seen once before when she had been delirious. All she needed was his touch to awaken her.
Rian could feel his own blood racing, pounding in his temples as he repositioned his hold around her waist while his other hand moved from her back to stroke the smooth column of her neck. He was rewarded with a throaty sound that reminded him of a purr, but not the kind the barn cats made. This belonged to a much larger cousin.
Catherine suddenly snapped her head up, loosening some curls from what had started out as a most becoming coiffure. The escaping ringlets danced enticingly across her cheek and forehead, teasing him. Rian found her disheveled appearance utterly alluring. She placed her hands on his upper arms to steady herself.
“You came to me…to my bedroom,” she whispered, huskily.
“Catherine, I—”
His explanation was lost as without warning she threw herself at him. Standing on tiptoe she flung her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his as she sought to fulfill her own desire. It was a repeat of the shared moment in the snow, only this time Rian was not so certain he was going to let her go without educating her a little.
Although he was sure she must have received her fair share of kisses in her past, it was obvious she had never been kissed by anyone possessing a modicum of skill. And certainly never by a grown man. Gently he unlocked her hands from around his neck and moved her away from him. Disappointment covered her face like a veil.
“Oh.” She paused, swaying gently from side to side. “I knew you didn’t want to kiss me.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong,” Rian said. “I’m going to kiss you, but I’m going to do it properly.”
She looked up at him with fire dancing in her eyes as he sat down in the chair she had recently vacated and pulled her onto his lap.
Her nervousness broke through the alcohol-tinged euphoria as she asked, “What should I do?”
“Enjoy it.”
Any conscious thought Catherine may have had was lost as Rian covered her mouth with his. She had forgotten how soft his lips were, and she gave an involuntary gasp as she felt his tongue trace the corners of her mouth. It was all the invitation he needed, and he seized the opportunity to explore her mouth. Catherine moved her hands so she could grip the front of his jacket and Rian held her fast, cupping the back of her head so she could not pull away. His tongue began a slow slide in and out of her mouth, tasting and teasing and, like a man dying of thirst, he drank his fill of her.
With his need temporarily satisfied, Rian lifted his mouth from hers. He kept his face only inches away as he watched for her reaction. Catherine kept her eyes closed. Her breath had an uneven hitch to it as she tried to absorb the sensations released in her. The flame that had been ignited exploded and it ran, course unchecked, through her body. Slowly she opened her eyes and looked at him. Lust had darkened the normal cornflower blue to a rich shade of indigo, and the glazed look Catherine now wore owed nothing to the housekeeper’s excellent wine.
“You were right,” she told him, her voice quavering with need. “It does get better.”
Rian groaned. Leaning forward he tipped his head and traced the hollow at the base of her throat with his tongue. She threw her head back as he continued to burn her skin with his mouth, while his fingers stroked the flesh above her bodice. Feeling his hair sweep silkily over her cleavage, Catherine took his face in her hands.
“Do you want me?” she asked, staring at him with wide eyes.
He stared back, wondering how much of her question was her own desire, and how much was the brandy. “What do you mean?”
She made a tutting sound. “I am not so naïve that I don’t know what happens between a man and a woman when they are lovers.”
“And this is what you want? To have me as your lover?” It was a dangerous question to ask in the dark, and Rian knew it. But it did not stop him from delivering it in a seductive whisper.
Catherine said nothing, but her eyes were large and luminous as she offered herself to him. His fingers continued to stroke her flesh, dipping far enough inside her bodice to make her shudder as a thrill of sexual anticipation ran through her.
“Do you want me?” she repeated, her voice trembling as her hunger began to rise. Dear God in heaven, he wanted nothing more! But… “Not like this,” Rian said, firmly.
It was not the answer she had been expecting. “I don’t understand.”
Taking her hands in his, Rian spoke. “Well, for one thing I would prefer you to be sober. That way I will know that it is truly me you want in your bed.”
“Why would you think I want anyone else?”
The question, Rian thought, was more for Catherine to answer than himself. Uncertainty made her catch her lower lip between her teeth, and he felt the heat in his groin flare.
“I’m trusting that you will,” he said, speaking slowly, “but I need to be sure your decision will bring no regrets.”
She turned her head away and he sensed the change in her immediately. This was more than disappointment. Rian had failed in some way, and now he could sense the wall Catherine was erecting with frightening speed. It was a wall that threatened to keep him out. And then it hit him, and he silently cursed himself for the fool he was. He had been thinking of her as any other young woman on the verge of realizing her own sexuality. But Catherine wasn’t just another virgin waiting to cross the threshold into womanhood. The violence and brutality forced upon her had tainted the pleasure she ought to have derived from such an act, and he had been so consumed with his own need to possess her, he had forgotten that fact. She had not. She could not.
She had offered herself to him out of need, but the wrong kind of need. Catherine was misguidedly trying to prove something to herself. Hoping that Rian would take what she was so willing to give in the mistaken belief it would make her whole again. Help her feel no different from any other beautiful woman. But his rejection told her she was tainted and undesirable, and before he could say anything she scrambled awkwardly off his lap.
“I’m sorry.” In her haste to put distance between them, she stumbled. “Too much wine has made me forward. I beg of you to forgive my vulgar behavior.”
“What are you sorry for?” Rian demanded in a low voice as he jumped up from the chair and caught hold of her arm. “Kissing me or wanting to give yourself to me?” He took her nod as an affirmative to both parts of his question. “Well, I’m not,” he growled more at himself than her, pulling her into his arms.
This time the kiss was not soft or gentle, but filled with the raw hunger she had awakened in him. As he plundered her mouth, Rian pulled her against him so she could feel his hardness. He was rewarded when she snaked her arms about his neck, burying her fingers in his hair, and answering him with her own fierce yearning.
When they finally broke apart Catherine pushed herself out of his arms, keeping her hands stretched out before her as if warding him off. He smiled. He would yield to her request for now, but they both knew it would take more than that to keep him from her. She struggled to catch her breath, and the scent of restless longing filled the empty space between them. Rian took a step forward but the look on her face stopped him.
“No…don’t…” Her breaths were nothing but ragged gasps, and he worried she might faint from the effort it was taking to draw in air. He should have thought to loosen the laces on her gown.
“Catherine.” For the first time in his life he was unsure of what to say. He raked his fingers through his hair, already missing the feel of her hands.
God, you have no idea what you are doing to me, how much I want you, how much I need you!
Her expression told him the words had not remained in his head, but had been spoken aloud. She stared at him, and any doubt she had vanished. An innate awareness stole over her, one that all women possess the moment they realize they hold the heart of a man in the palm of their hand. The dark tint of her eyes mesmerized him, and Rian wondered how long it would be before she invited him to drown in their depths.
She came toward him and put her hand against his face. The new growth of beard scraped her palm, making her smile as she stroked his jaw. Reaching up she pressed her lips against his rough cheek. “Then make it soon,” she told him thickly, and with a soft whisper of her skirts, she was gone before he could stop her.