His grin was a slash of white in the darkness. “The night I returned from San Jose and found you wearing those earrings, nothing could have kept me out of your bed. But after that I told myself that I had done enough short-cutting. It was time I gave you a proper courtship.”
She heard the pride at his own self-denial in his voice and chuckled. “A whole week of it,” she murmured with blatantly false admiration.
“Stop making fun of me! You’ll never know what it cost to try and do things right for a change!”
“Yes, Court,” she said sweetly.
“But that’s all behind us now,” he continued with vast complacency. “Now we can lapse into the quiet, humdrum routine of the average married couple.”
“You sound as if that has great appeal.”
“It does. It seems to me I’ve been running around without much rest since the first day I learned your name!”
“Such exertion! But it hasn’t been exactly easy on me, either!”
“We’ll both appreciate the peace and quiet from now on.”
His hands moved along the back of her jacket, settling on the curve of her hips and forcing her into gentle contact with his hard thighs.
“Come with me, my dearly beloved wife, and let’s get dinner and some peace and quiet.”
He threw an arm tightly around her shoulders, curving her against his side, and they started back toward the lights of the inn.
“Court?”
“What, honey?”
“Really love me?”
“With all my heart. Do you really love me?”
“With all my heart,” she echoed blissfully.
Dinner came and went in a haze of candlelight and music, sparkling silver, and linen, but Leya couldn’t remember later what she’d eaten. She remembered only the pleasure of being able to look across the table and let herself sink into the depths of a pair of gold-flecked eyes that watched her with a yearning hunger.
“The next step, following tradition,” Court observed in a husky voice as he led her away from the table, “is to take you into that glass-walled room facing the ocean, find that little private alcove, and let you seduce me. There’s just one problem.”
“What’s that?” She smiled invitingly. “You don’t think I can handle it?”
“I think that we might not make it back up the stairs this time. You are filling my head and my senses like brandy this evening, sweet wife.”
“It can’t be much different from the effect you’re having on me,” she told him softly, aware of the fine tremor that went through him as he took her arm and headed toward the stairs.
At the door of their room, Leya suddenly smiled.
“What are you laughing at?” he asked indulgently, letting them inside the elegantly rustic bedroom.
“The fact that you got out of carrying me up that flight of stairs. Aren’t you grateful? On the other hand, it would have kept you in practice…”
He shut the door and turned her into his arms, eyes all golden and warm.
“I would have carried you up a mountain if it had been necessary!”
“Greater love hath no man…”
“I’m glad you appreciate it. There was a time when I despaired of making you believe in my basically good intentions!”
“Did you ever really doubt me?” she teased.
“You had me quite terrified there for a while! Oh, Leya, I adore you!” His mouth covered hers in a kiss of curiously gentle passion. “I thought you were going to drive me crazy!” His hands undressed her lovingly.
“A woman likes to be sure,” she murmured seductively, finding herself naked in his hands. Her words were a deliberate reminder of one of their first discussions.
“I was sure from the beginning. I don’t know what took you so long!” He smiled, lifting her into his arms and settling her gently between the sheets. And then he was sliding in beside her, warm, with a shocking power that immediately inundated her already awash senses.
“Oh, Court,” she moaned, going into his arms with an eagerness that seemed to please him enormously. “Love me, please love me!”
His fingers traced the line of her spine in a sensuous movement that made her arch like a cat. She shifted her legs unconsciously and then felt her ankle tucked beneath his foot as if he would hold her still. The small chaining sent a marvelously erotic shot of electricity out to her fingertips.
She felt him draw her close, so that the softness of her breasts was gently crushed against the rough maleness of his chest and the passion between them flowed back and forth, making first one and then the other the aggressor. Leya experienced the joy of being lovingly seduced by her husband and then the equally pleasurable thrill of seducing him. The constant trade-off carried an increasing emotional charge that intensified with each turn.
When Court’s hands stroked the length of her inner thigh, Leya trembled, and he pulled her sprawling across his chest, her dark hair swirling against his skin. She held his face, showering tiny, desperate little kisses on his gold-and-brown hair, his eyelids, and the tips of his ears.
“You’re a temptress,” he growled, his hands fingering her waist and finding the line of her ribs.
“It’s your fault for tempting me first,” she husked, her lips on his strong throat.
“Always arguing,” he groaned hoarsely. “Even in bed!”
She felt the humor combined with the desire in him and knew that it would always be thus with them, a unique and loving blend that neither would ever want to lose.
“But a man has to exert himself on occasion,” he continued on a note of seductive menace, pushing her flat on the bed and lowering himself gently, completely into her welcoming embrace. “And I want you so much, sweet Leya.”
His desire could be no greater than her own, she thought dizzily, and was on the verge of telling him so, when his body claimed hers with a thorough mastery that made it impossible to speak. She told him with her response, giving all of herself and receiving everything of him in return.
The pattern of their lovemaking soared, making them one with the night storm that was rolling in off the ocean. The pounding of the rain against the window was in tune with the pounding of their blood, and the force of the gale set the primitive rhythm of their bodies.
And then, with a fierce cry that was muffled by the silky skin of her breast, Court reached down to clasp her hips, drawing her emphatically closer, losing himself in her softness as the end of their inner storm approached.
Leya’s fingers clutched at the hard, muscled power of his back, and with a sobbing cry she surrendered to the impact of the tempest. She felt him being pulled into the vortex with her, and together they clung, riding out the winds.
Some time later, Court palmed the pink tip of Leya’s gently curving breast and smiled down into her contented, gleaming eyes. He was propped on his elbow, his legs tangled with hers.
“Happy, Mrs. Tremayne?”
“Deliriously so, Mr. Tremayne.”
“You’re such an untamed little thing in bed,” he laughed delightedly. “Do you realize that?”
“You don’t mind the exercise?”
“Now what do you think?” He grinned.
“I think,” Leya said laughingly, “that we’re both much more energetic than we gave ourselves credit for!”
“You could be right. Personally,” he drawled deeply, “I’m not too concerned about it now that I know the chain is in place!”
“What happened to all that humility down on the beach?” she demanded, running her fingers through his ruffled hair and smiling up at him with teasing green eyes. “You’re starting to talk about golden chains again. Is the old Court resurfacing?”
“I know now that you love me and I love you. That does give me a certain amount of confidence,” he said blandly.
“Egotist!”
“But look at the bright side,” he urged helpfully. “You’ve got the same set of facts in your possession. And I always did think you were a
reasonably bright girl.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning you were the one who once told me chains work both ways. Whoever holds the links is as much a captive as the one on the other end.”
“I won’t ask you which of us is on which end,” Leya said diplomatically. “Just promise me you won’t let go of your end and I’ll promise to hang onto mine!”
“It’s a deal.”
He bent his head and sealed the bargain with a kiss.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4908-4
STORMY CHALLENGE
Copyright © 1982 by Jayne Ann Krentz
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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Jayne Ann Krentz, Stormy Challenge
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