Free Loving Byrne by Donna Dalton Page B

agreed, love. To wait until we were wed.”
    Deft fingers made swift work of the buttons on her blouse. “That’s fourteen, long, lonesome days from now.” He pushed open the unfettered folds. “Are you sure you want to wait?”
    Cool air marched over her bared flesh. A delightful shudder coursed through her, and feckless knees threatened to give way. Only her hands, clamped on his broad shoulders, kept her from collapsing. “Two weeks is not that lon—”
    Lips latching onto an exposed nipple stripped away her words. Fire surged in her veins. Her bones turned to aged butter. She swayed and fought to remain upright.
    Stephen’s hands went around her waist and guided her backwards until her backside greeted the table. Then, before she could resist, he began burrowing beneath her skirts and undergarments. A finger found and fondled the sensitive flesh between her thighs. Her insides ignited into an inferno. She gasped his name.
    “You still want to wait, darling?”
    “I...we...shouldn’t.”
    He stroked the small curls covering her fleshy folds, tugging and teasing. Ripples of desire raked through her. She shuddered again. Such marvelous sensations. She wanted more, much more.
    She flexed her hips and rocked against his hand. Chastity be damned. “Stephen...”
    “Yes, sweetheart?” he whispered, his breaths coming like hers, in quick, shallow-heated pants.
    “You play...unfairly.”
    “You want me to stop?”
    “No. No stopping. I want you. Now.”
    His mouth rounded into a devilish smile, and he reached for his belt buckle. “As you wish, my—”
    A loud thud echoed in the hallway.
    Then, a deep voice rang out, and then another.
    Stephen stilled, brow furrowing. He closed his eyes as if gathering himself and pushed out a frustrated growl. “I should go. Check on Hammond.”
    She tamped down her own groan of disappointment. Duty before pleasure. Such would be her life as the wife of an Army officer. Yet, she wouldn’t have it any other way. “Go. But hurry back.” She treated him to a coy look. “Before your supper goes stale.”
    He winked as he headed for the door. “Don’t worry, my darling. I’ll be back before you can draw your next breath.”
    She smiled and reclined back on her elbows. Her insides throbbed with a pleasing ache. She wanted him. Tonight and every night from now until eternity. Stephen Byrne was everything she could ever want in a husband—kind, caring, dedicated to making her happy. A man just like her wonderful brother-in-law.
    Ten years ago, she and her sister Annabelle had met Howard Taylor while accompanying their father to deliver produce to Howard’s mercantile. It was love at first sight. Annabelle and Howard were wed a month later. When their father died from a lung illness, Howard took her in and made her part of his and Annabelle’s family. Only nine years old at the time, motherless from birth and then fatherless, Victoria had latched onto the older male, looking for love and guidance. And Howard had been a true king among men. He treated her as a beloved sister, providing food, shelter, and a fine education. She couldn’t be more blessed to have found a husband just as devoted.
    Boot heels rapped in the hall, and then Stephen filled the doorway, his face white as the starched linens stacked on the shelves.
    Victoria pushed upright, her heart skipping. “You look upset, Stephen. What’s wrong?”
    “He’s gone. Hammond is gone.”
    ****
    Eyes blue as the ocean and just as wide washed over him. “Gone? What do you mean he’s gone?”
    As Victoria bolted off the table, her exposed breasts jounced like fresh stirred cream. Heat rifled through him. Hot, primal heat that took his breath. Stephen stiffened against a rush of desire. As much as he wanted to take her right there on the maid’s table, he couldn’t afford to indulge the pleasure. Later, perhaps. If he wasn’t swinging from the gallows.
    He snatched her cloak from the table where he’d tossed it.