An Unsinkable Love

chapter 30


When Eldon shoved her, Bree stepped back toward the fire. The hem of her dress landed in the coals and smoldered only an instant before igniting. The underskirts burst into flame and the entire back was alight almost immediately.

Malcolm swerved from his direct path toward Eldon. He caught her arm, pushing Bree to the floor, and rolled her across the carpet while trying to strip off his jacket with one hand. As soon as the jacket came free, he wrapped it around her lower body and smothered the flames. Eldon fled the room. In an effort to make sure the gown no longer smoldered, Malcolm tore at the shredded fabric of her skirt and slips and in a moment, she was naked from the waist down. Bree gasped in pain and plucked at her calves. He realized her silk stockings were melted onto her skin.

The sound of running feet caused Malcolm to drape his jacket over Bree's exposed limbs and he moved around to shield her from the doorway. Hannah, the maid, stopped as she saw Malcolm kneeling over a prostrate Bree.

"I thought I heard a scream, sir." The maid's forehead crinkled and her mouth widened into an "O" as she looked back and forth between Malcolm and Bree. He knew how it must appear, with Bree flat on her back, clothing scattered around the room, and him hovering over her.

"Fetch my mother. Miss Bridget's been burned. And get her a wrapper."

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The maid's eyes widened. "Yes, sir." She turned on her heel and fled.

Elizabeth, wrapped in a robe, her hair covered with a frilly satin cap, rushed in a few moments later. She examined Bree's legs closely then sent Hannah for fresh butter when the maid returned with Bree's robe.

"I don't think it burned too deeply. The butter will soften the skin and help get the stockings off." She looked into Bree's tear-filled eyes. "It will be painful for a while, but I don't think there will be any scarring."

Bree bit her lip and squirmed as the stockings were peeled off, but as Elizabeth said, the burns were mostly superficial.

Malcolm left for several moments and returned with a small crock of ointment, which he rubbed over the reddened areas.

"This is a special concoction old Murray makes. It's a recipe his family has handed down for generations. I don't know what's in it, but it will heal almost anything. It seems to help a great deal with pain as well. He's used it on all of us at one time or another, and on most of the animals around here too." He grinned at the expression of distaste on her face. "I think he keeps the stuff for the animals in a different jar," he said, trying to tease away her fear.

Bree smiled then yawned.

Elizabeth stood and pointed at the stairs. "To bed with you both. Tomorrow is a busy day, and I want Bree to get plenty of rest. She may not feel like dancing tomorrow, but I think she'll still enjoy the party." She helped the maid gather the scorched fabric scraps then headed upstairs.

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Malcolm helped Bree to her feet. "I'd carry you, but I'm afraid I'd hurt your legs more than if you walk."

"I'm fine. It doesn't hurt at all now. That salve is amazing."

The tie on her robe slipped loose and the soft fabric gaped open, drawing Malcolm's attention to the exposed silken thighs, the tiny area of auburn fluff standing out against her pale skin. He swallowed a hard lump that suddenly stuck in his throat and forced his eyes back to her face.

Bree gasped, jerking the robe close and hurriedly retying the belt. She stared at him, a deep rose suffusing her face.

Her eyes widened at his expression.

Malcolm knew he probably resembled a wolf contemplating a rabbit. The instinct to pull her to him, raining kisses over her body as his hands sought out the now-hidden treasure, was strong. Only the trusting look in her beautiful green eyes stayed him.

He gave her a lopsided grin. "The benefits of marriage are becoming more and more obvious," he quipped, unrepentant.



* * * *

Bree couldn't quite suppress a grin as his risqué comment.

She took his offered hand and allowed him to lead her up to her room. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and kicked it closed behind as he enfolded her within his arms, continuing inexorably toward the bed. As they bumped against the bedrail, she glanced up at him, hesitant.

Malcolm gazed down at her, searching her face. She couldn't draw away from his hypnotic eyes as they seemed to take over her will. His head swooped down and captured her 202

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lips. He crushed her soft breasts against his rock-hard chest.

The suddenness of his embrace shocked her, its intensity urging her arms up to slip around his neck. Passion burned from her very core. Except for their one memorable encounter on the train, his kisses had always been somewhat chaste, leaving her hungry for more, ashamed of her wantonness. His hands rubbed her back, lower and lower until they grasped her buttocks and drew her close. She felt his hardness throbbing against her belly. Bree was torn between knowing she should pull away before it was too late, and the intense desire to see what would happen next.

In a fluid movement, Malcolm turned and they fell together on the bed. Bree gasped in surprise as he rolled, pulling her full length on top of him.

His mouth hovered beneath her pleasantly bruised lips.

"Bree, my love. Waiting is killing me. Let me take you. Let me show you how I love you," he whispered hoarsely.

She nestled closer in answer, wriggling her knee between his thighs as she bent down and returned his kiss twofold. He moaned against her lips as his hands slid to her shoulders and pushed the robe away. It caught, and he slipped his hands between their bodies, fumbling with the tie. She held herself up with outstretched arms, hands on either side of his head.

The remnants of her gown were tossed away. She felt cool air on her backside, but her body was afire with a compelling, unknown need. He bent a knee and his thigh pressed against her exposed, sensitive mound, rubbing lightly.

Dusky moonlight illuminated the room. As his gleaming gaze roved over the planes and curves and shadowy nooks of 203

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her body, heat rushed to her face. Even hotter was the juncture of her legs where his muscular thigh caused ripples of something she'd never felt before. His mouth closed over a breast, and she shivered as he gently suckled. His long, strong fingers gently squeezed and played with its mate.

Sighing, she arched her back in ecstasy. His other hand busily roamed down the deep indent of her spine, over her rounded buttocks and deeper.

He touched her core, first tentatively, gently, then stroking the lips of her femininity harder, teasing her with flicks of his fingers against the moist folds. Her head snapped forward and she gasped.

"Don't fear me, love. I will never hurt you. Let me," he whispered, his breath hot on the sensitive skin of her breast.

His tongue licked and played at the tight nipple and she felt she might swoon. Bree gripped his shoulders as a long, strong finger began to explore the depths of her womanhood, teasing and tantalizing, deeper. His tongue skated away from the hard tip of her breast, as he lapped kisses across her collarbone and up her neck. His mouth came to rest on hers, where the velvet softness of his tongue slipped past the seam of her mouth and set off a whole new wave of sensations. So many feelings surged through her body. Bree struggled to focus, but his hand was doing things, wonderful things, and his tongue continued to seek out the recesses of her mouth.

She could taste him, smell him, feel him, inside and all around her.

Unable to control her desire, Bree struggled to free the buttons of his shirt. As they pulled loose, she impatiently 204

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brushed the fabric aside. Her fingers caressed the firm expanse of his chest, her nail grazing his nipple and sending a shiver through him. Down over the washboard hardness of his stomach her restless, curious hands trailed, following the line of fine hair to the waist of his trousers.

With another quick roll, she found herself on her back as Malcolm loomed over her. "Finish it," he begged. She undid the fastenings of his trousers and shoving them down as he wriggled to help. Then suddenly he was there, hot and hard.

She felt his manhood pulsing against her hip. His hands were relentless on her body, touching, caressing, tempting. Oh, God! This is exquisite torture.

"I want you now, my sweet. But I won't force you. Will you have me?" Malcolm murmured.

"Yes." The word would have been a scream, if he hadn't smothered it with a kiss. Her nails raked his shoulders; her hands straining to pull him close as her body commanded more. More.

His hand slipped under her and shifted her hips. His knee, already sending her into paroxysms as it continued to rub along the sensitive mound, pushed her thighs apart. He drew back a fraction and stared deep into her eyes. She nodded encouragement. She felt him probe, the velvety softness pushing, entering. She bucked against him at the fleeting moment of pain. Then the sting was only a vague memory.

Excitement—no, something much, much more—grew as he slowly thrust deeper. He filled her and a sense of greedy anticipation grew. She couldn't stop now, wouldn't let him stop. She had to know where he was taking her. Needed to 205

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know what she would find there. Malcolm moved inside her slowly. An overwhelming sense of wanting more—more of him, more of the intoxicating feelings he stirred, enveloped her. She clutched at him, lunging to meet his thrusts. Words of love and surrender tumbled from Bree's lips as she buried her face in his neck.

His pace increased. Malcolm's breath came harsh and quick. She pulled back, watching him. His eyes were closed and an expression of exultation lit his features. Bree felt a new spark deep within her. It burst into flames and scorched her soul with a sudden fiery explosion, threatening to consume her. "Malcolm!" The sudden sensation brought tears to her eyes. A sob rose, as she tried to comprehend the incredible feeling that emerged from where he joined with her. The sensation washed over her, leaving her sensitive to each inch of his skin touching hers. She wondered if they had somehow melted together, like the silk of her stockings to her legs. With a final thrust, he groaned and collapsed on top of her, his mouth finding her neck and giving her nibbling kisses as his arms clasped her tightly. Malcolm rolled to his side and pulled her with him.

Sated, they lay together for a long time. Her fingertips lightly brushed across his back and arms and her lips skimmed his chest. He nuzzled her temple, while one hand played with the mass of curls wrapped around his arm.

"I want to stay here forever," he murmured.

Bree smiled. She knew she should be ashamed, but this felt so right. "I'm afraid it might cause a bit of excitement in the morning when Hannah comes in to stoke the fire."

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"You wouldn't need a fire if I were with you."

Bree laughed softly. It was true; she basked in his warm, radiant heat.

The moon had passed behind the trees when, with a loud sigh, he raised himself from her side. "I'm going, but not for long. You and Mother better get this wedding thing settled quickly, or Hannah will have to learn to live with finding me in your bed, or you in mine." Malcolm bent down and gave her another deep kiss. As she slipped her arms around his neck and drew him down, he shook his head. "Stop that, you little wanton. I've given you a taste of what you can expect as my wife. That's going to have to be enough for now. I don't have the willpower to leave if we get started again." He slapped her lightly on the derriere and bent to gather his clothing.

Bree stretched like a cat. His scent lingered on her skin—

the mix of spice and soap and man. She rolled onto her stomach and kicked her feet playfully as she watched him pull on his trousers.

"My God. You look like you're ten years old right now, but a few minutes ago you were all woman." Malcolm stared at her a moment before shaking his head.

He bent and kissed her on the forehead, then turned and hurried out the room, closing the door gently.

"Good night," she called. Once she donned a long flannel nightgown, she snuggled into the downy mattress. She hugged herself, closing her eyes as she conjured memories of the last hour.

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207

An Unsinkable Love

by Terri Benson