Page 18

Chapter Eleven

K itty stood at the window in her grandfather’s study, staring out at the fierce storm. Someone had snuffed the candles and the only light in the room came from the moon, its glow eking through the thick clouds in fits and starts.

Lightning shattered the darkness, illuminating the wind ravaged yew trees outside—and the distorted reflection of Garrick’s face in the windowpane. Behind her. Almost upon her.

She spun around. Another flash of light, combined with an earsplitting crack of thunder, revealed she’d reacted too late.

She tried to run, but Garrick hooked the tip of his boot behind her ankle. She toppled helplessly to the ground, with Garrick landing atop her.

She wanted to fight, to kick and scratch her way out from beneath him, but she couldn’t move. Why couldn’t she move?

Even knowing the futility, well aware the two of them were alone in the house, she drew a breath and screamed with all her might.

As if she’d offended the gods, an answering clap of thunder sounded. Again and again.

No, not thunder. Banging. On her bedchamber door.

Her bedchamber? But she was in the study.

“Kitty, be still.”

Her eyes flew open at the harsh masculine whisper. A figure moved in the doorway.

She jerked upright in her bed and searched in the darkness for some route of escape. The window.

She flung the sheets aside, but her legs and nightdress were hopelessly entangled in the bedcovers. She wrestled and kicked against the restraining fabric, and succeeded only in cocooning herself further.

“Be still, I say.” The figure started toward her.

With no option remaining, she dove from the bed, hurdling toward the floor.

Strong arms caught her, dragging her upwards to place her unceremoniously amidst the heap of sheets on the mattress.

“Good God, woman, wake up before you hurt yourself.”

Zeke’s voice.

Her mattress dipped with his weight as he sat on the edge of her bed. His hands gripped her upper arms, and warmth from his palms seeped through the sleeves of her night shift.

“Kitty, it’s all right. You’re safe,” Zeke said in a low, soothing voice.

The nightmare’s tentacles receded, leaving her weak with relief. She nodded her understanding and drew a shuddering breath.

Zeke’s familiar scent—soap, spice, clean male skin—invaded her senses. In her unlit chamber, she could just make out the bold lines of his face. Moonlight glinted off his tousled hair.

Zeke had come and chased her nightmare away, chased Garrick away, just like he had this morning.

“Zeke,” she choked, flinging herself into his chest. Her arms locked around his neck and the tip of her nose nestled into the warm curve of his shoulder. She closed her eyes and greedily breathed him in.

His arms went around her, almost tentatively, as if he didn’t know where to place his hands.

She snuggled closer, trying to still the random tremors coursing through her.

After a moment, one of his big hands moved, smoothing her hair from the crown of her head to somewhere near her waist. Over and over again he touched her, all the while uttering soothing, nonsensical sounds.

She’d never imagined he could be so gentle.

After a while her breathing steadied, but her stubborn pulse refused to return to normal. Reality leaked in to her consciousness. Zeke was in her bedchamber. She was clinging to him for dear life. And she was fairly certain he wasn’t wearing clothes.

With her arms yet around his neck, she allowed her gaze to drift down over the hard plane of his naked chest, then lower. She gulped. He appeared to be wearing trousers.

Reluctantly she unlocked her hands from around his neck and drew back.

He did not restrain her. Neither did he release her, and her skin hummed where his palms grazed her low back. The fact only her thin nightshift separated her flesh from his touch consumed her thoughts.

“I suppose I woke you?” she asked, mostly just to break the silence.

“I heard you screaming, and I thought…I feared James was attempting to abduct you. It’s a wonder you didn’t raise the entire household.” He softened his gruff words reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

She shivered and barely resisted pressing her cheek into his palm.

“I’m sorry I disturbed your sleep. I suppose the storm stirred memories. I…” She swallowed. Clamped her lips together. What was she thinking, revealing so much? “It was only a dream.”

Zeke cupped her cheeks between warm, slightly calloused palms. “What memories? Or should I ask of whom? Is Garrick the monster in your nightmares?”

When she didn’t reply, his tone grew more urgent. “Did he"—He paused—“hurt you? Is that why you ran? Kitty, so help me, tell me.”

“He attacked me,” she whispered. “But I got away.” She bit her lower lip, unwilling to say one word more.

Zeke cursed softly and pulled her into his chest, trapping her arms between them. She meant to pull them free. Instead her fingers curled into his muscled flesh.

He sucked in a breath, and a shudder coursed through him.

She’d overstepped. Mortified, she drew back, clenching her fists to keep from reaching for him again. She searched his face. His expression was unreadable in the unlit chamber.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I didn’t mean to…” She had no idea how to finish her sentence.

He didn’t speak for a moment, then he whispered, “You didn’t mean to…?”

He would make her say it? “To wake you.”

He huffed out a breath, that sounded a lot like laughter. “I thought you were apologizing for touching me…here.” He grasped both her wrists and placed her palms flat on his chest.

Her breath went choppy and her insides went hot in a way she’d never known. “Zeke?”

He didn’t answer in words, but combed his fingers through her hair.

As if of their own accord, her fingers curled into his supple, warm skin. His heartbeat seemed to pound into her fingertips.

He swallowed audibly. “Do you always sleep with your hair loose like this?”

He grasped a handful of her hair and tugged her toward him. Then he relaxed his grip, and let her hair sift through his fingers as his free arm encircled her waist to pull her closer.

When her nipples grazed his chest through the thin lawn gown, they puckered and tightened. She nearly moaned at the inexplicable pleasure of the sensation.

But he’d asked her a question. Something to do with her hair.

“No,” she said in a husky voice she barely recognized as her own. “I left it down tonight because I’ve had it bound for months and I couldn’t bear to—” She broke off and closed her eyes.

He was combing his fingers through her hair again.

“Yes?” His voice sounded gruff.

“I….” What had she been saying? Her lashes fluttered open when she felt his warm breath on her cheek.

He’d ducked his head, bringing his face only inches from hers.

She licked her lips as anticipation burned through her. He was going to kiss her. At last .

As if he knew he was turning her insides to mush, a lazy smile curved his lips. His white teeth gleamed like a pirate’s in the moonlit room. “Perhaps now you see why it’s not a good idea for a man to enter a lady’s bedchamber in the middle of the night.”

Before she could ask what he meant, his mouth covered hers.

The kiss was…everything. Tender. Bone-melting. Intoxicating.

She should protest. Call a halt. Anything other than twining her fingers into his thick mane of hair, and luxuriating in the silken feel of it.

With a low groan, his arms banded around her, flattening her breasts against his chest. His body heat burned through her gown, warming her all the way to her curling toes.

He grabbed fistfuls of her hair like a lusty kitten, finally twisting a mass of it around his wrist. “You taste like honey,” he rasped.

She felt herself tumbling back into her pillows. Had she dragged Zeke down with her or had he initiated the fall? She didn’t care. She knew she loved the heavy weight of him on her, and absolutely knew she never wanted him to stop kissing her.

Her hands skimmed his shoulders, coursing over the rippling muscles of his back. She couldn’t seem to stop her greedy exploration. Couldn’t make herself want to. She wanted to touch him everywhere, to commit his beautiful form to memory.

Abruptly his mouth left hers. In one jerky movement, he grasped both her wrists and pulled her arms over her head. A shaft of moonlight stole through the seam of her closed shutters, illuminating Zeke’s features. He stared down at her with wild eyes.

She heard his breath, hissing through his gleaming white teeth, frozen in a half smile—or grimace.

Somehow she understood.

She, too, felt something between pleasure and pain, and a delicious hunger only Zeke could assuage. She tugged at his restraining hand, wanting to touch him.

“Christ,” he bit out, releasing her wrists as if he hadn’t even realized he held her.

She reached for him, but with lightning speed he was up on his feet. “I…this shouldn’t have happened. When I came in here I never intended…” He dragged a hand through his hair. “It’s past time I go.”

“But—”

“We’ll talk in the morning.” He sounded almost angry.

She vibrated with a need she’d never known, while he turned off his feelings as easily as one would blow out a match.

A moment later he was gone, shutting the door softly behind him.

She lay awake, a long, long time.

***

As Kitty feared, breakfast was an awkward affair—for her, at any rate. She slid a sidelong glance at Lady Lillian who chattered amiably.

If the lady noticed she carried the conversation for the three of them, Kitty couldn’t tell.

Zeke’s terse responses to his aunt’s chipper commentary could indicate nothing more than a disinclination to wake before noon.

Kitty was more inclined to believe him preoccupied with what happened last night in her bed chamber. Certainly it was all she could think about..

Lady Lillian dabbed the corners of her mouth. “Ezekiel, May I assume since the weather’s improved we’ll be setting out as soon as possible?”