A Season Beyond a Kiss Read online

  Caught up in the headiness of their passion, Raelynn slid a trembling hand over her husband’s firmly muscled chest, moving it past his waist and along the thin line of hair that traced downward over his taut belly. Beneath her wandering inspection, Jeff held his breath as he awaited that moment wherein she would touch him. Her fingers traced the manly flesh timidly, seeming almost fearful of hurting him, until he covered her hand and began to instruct her. Hardly a moment passed before he felt his restraint begin to crumble.

  “Oh, love, love . . . there’s no turning back now,” he breathed. His eyes melded with hers as he rose above her and searched her face for any evidence of fear or reluctance. Caught up in the growing hunger of her own desires, Raelynn lifted her hips to his in an unmistakable invitation.

  Jeff’s breath wafted from him in a sigh of overwhelming relief and awe before he lowered his mouth upon hers and kissed her with tender ardor. Suddenly a burning pain pierced Raelynn’s loins, wrenching a gasp from her as the steely shaft drove home. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed against the throbbing discomfort of the rent flesh and pressed her face against the base of her husband’s neck as she dug her fingers into his shoulders. His lips sought hers again and played provocatively until she began to answer his devouring mouth and cavorting tongue.

  In a moment all thoughts of pain were swept behind her and banished to the far reaches of her mind. Raelynn never knew the precise moment when he began to caress her loins with his. The slow, smooth, rhythmic thrusts seemed so effortless on his part; a long, leisured stroking that massaged the hurt away; a burgeoning excitement; exhilarating, scintillating pleasure washing through their merged bodies; senses skimming over billowing currents; quickening movements that drew her up with breathless gasps to meet his thudding hardness; waves of pulsing rapture sweeping over and through their entwined bodies; a swelling tide that lifted them up upon foaming crests; crashing breakers that seemed blindingly brilliant; and then shimmering, thrilling, unending ecstasy.

  Washed up on the white beach of tousled sheets, they lay in the rosy aftermath of their passion, her head upon his shoulder, a brown hand encompassing her hip, a slender arm flung across his chest, and a sleek limb resting across his thighs. Though neither of them complained, the threat of dissolving seemed imminent.

  Smiling dreamily, Raelynn traced a fingertip through the mat of hair covering her husband’s chest and sketched a male nipple as she marveled at what she had just experienced. “I think I could sleep for a whole week now,” she sighed softly. “But only if you’d consent to stay with me.”

  “We’ll have to move your clothes back in here again,” Jeff breathed, pressing a kiss upon her brow. “We could even share a bath.”

  Raelynn rose up upon his chest and smiled down into his shining eyes. “But I thought you already had a bath this morning.”

  A slow grin stretched across his handsome lips, displaying the taut depressions in his cheeks as his hand swept down her naked back. “Aye, but I find the idea of playing with you in my bathtub quite intriguing, madam. Would you be willing to indulge me?”

  Her smile was warm and inviting. “Most eagerly, sir, if you, in return, would be amenable to allowing me a few privileges.”

  “As many as you want, my dear, as long as you stay within the confines of my arms.”

  2

  ELEGANT LITTLE SHOPS ABOUNDED IN CHARLESTON, proclaiming its wealth as one of the most important ports along the eastern seaboard. It was a gracious city, well maintained by its residents, and rightly known for its charming atmosphere. Its streets bustled with activity, its docks the same.

  Jeff’s shipping company was located near the wharf. It, too, was a busy place with ships either being loaded or unloaded nearby and six-in-hands in the process of returning or pulling large wagons brimming with cargo to other vessels docked in different areas of the port. It was in the shipping yard where the Birmingham carriage made its first stop, allowing Jeff to drop off the recently reviewed ledgers to his bookkeeper.

  “I won’t be but a moment, my sweet,” he assured his wife, squeezing her hand affectionately before stepping down from the black landau and striding toward the three-story brick building.

  Raelynn watched from the window of the conveyance as her tall, nattily garbed husband made his way past workmen who called out a cheery greeting or waved to him from afar. His affable responses and ready repartees to humorous comments or teasing banter, which met him along the way, affirmed that Jeffrey Birmingham was well-liked among his employees. He even paused to speak with a man of middling years from whom he parted a moment later with a handshake and a mutual chortle as well as an enthusiastic pat on the back bestowed upon him by the brawny fellow.

  Smiling in secret pleasure, Raelynn settled back against the landau’s cushioned seat to await his return, hardly begrudging the time she had been given to relish the memories they had made together earlier that morning. In the hours that had since elapsed, one truth had become strikingly clear; she was immensely satisfied, even delighted with the choice she had finally made in yielding herself to Jeffrey’s husbandly initiation into marital intimacy. What had followed their union had further solidified her belief that she had chosen wisely. Even the simple acts of bathing and dressing had proven infinitely more pleasurable with a bold, handsome participant, who was not above indulging in some frisky horseplay. Indeed, until this day in history she had remained ignorant of the attention-getting results of a linen towel being popped against a naked backside, but when she had returned the favor, she had suffered some surprise, learning very quickly that Jeff’s attack had been much more gentle and playful, for in slapping him she had left a red welt upon his buttock that had, in the making, drawn a genuine “Ouch!” from him. Her worried apologies and soothing strokes had soon led them into more kissing and fondling, which they had later deemed well worth the initial pain. In every respect Raelynn was feeling as happy and content as any young bride who was thoroughly entranced with her amorous husband.

  Jeffrey Birmingham’s manly appeal was like a strong magnet, to which heretofore she had found herself being drawn closer with each passing day. In the last few hours, however, that progression had advanced by mind-staggering degrees until she was led to think that she was even more susceptible to his physical appeal and winning ways than Nell or any of the other hopefuls who had once yearned to have Jeffrey Birmingham for a husband. She had never deluded herself into believing she was the only female in Charleston or the surrounding area who had become thoroughly infatuated with the man. He was too handsome for any woman to entertain such a notion. The only difference between all the other maidens and herself was Jeff’s own preference in choosing her, and she was infinitely glad he had.

  A shadow passing alongside the landau made Raelynn glance around in time to see a roughly garbed man strolling past the last window. She barely caught a glimpse of the back of his hat-covered head before he moved beyond the opening, but she had no real reason to lend the fellow further heed. Considering the fact that she was a complete stranger to most of the city’s populace, she felt no curiosity as to his identity or appearance. In the next moment she wished she had been more inquisitive. At least, if she had, she might have had time to flee the carriage and find her husband. As it was, she was without benefit of Jeffrey’s comforting presence when Olney Hyde stepped back to the window and tilted his head aslant to peer in.

  “Why, if’n it ain’t Mrs. Birmin’am, all decked out like some gent’s birthday present,” the curly-haired scamp drawled, displaying a poorly contrived surprise as he dragged off his cap. No less cocky than he had been in Gustav’s presence, he swept his gaze from her pert bonnet down to the pale peach floral muslin gown covering her soft bosom, where it lingered overlong.

  Raelynn was grateful her square, lace-edged neckline was demure or she might have found herself blushing even more than she was. Whereas Jeff’s perusals evoked a sensuality within her that was hard to ignore, she was highly insulted by the braz
enness of this rascal’s scrutiny. Though probably as much as five years her senior, Olney seemed much younger, especially in comparison to her husband, but she hardly considered that fact a compliment. To her, he seemed the epitome of a naughty young tough, whom she really didn’t care to confront on any terms, let alone now when she had no one but an aged driver to serve as her protector. Still, she managed to gather a fair measure of bravado and gave snide retort to the scamp. “Well, Olney, I’m rather surprised to see you walking about so blatantly on the streets of Charleston. I thought you’d be skulking around in some dark, dank alleyway somewhere. Sheriff Townsend will certainly be interested in hearing that you’re still in the city. As you probably know, he has been searching high and low for you. I’ll be sure to tell him I saw you just as soon as I can.”

  “Aye, ye do that, Mrs. Birmin’am, an’ whilst ye’re doin’ it, I’ll be tellin’ Mr. Fridrich how fetchin’ ye’re lookin’ nowadays, a damned sight fancier than when he last saw ye. Ye know, he really regrets my not makin’ ye a widow that night I accidenta’ly shot yer husband. He ain’t ne’er had nothin’ taken from him afore, leastwise a wench. O’ course, most o’ the ones what he’s had o’er the years ain’t been nearly as high-falutin’ or, for that matter, half as enticin’. Ye might say that losin’ ye has set his temper awry, ‘specially since he gots only one arm what’s o’ any use now.”

  Raelynn scoffed at the rogue’s claim. “Accidentally, ha! From what I’ve heard from Kingston, you took deliberate aim, fully intending to kill my husband, no doubt for the purpose of appeasing your employer.”

  Olney shrugged his brawny shoulders indolently. “Well, now, a bloke’s got ta peer down the sights o’ his pistol real careful-like when he only means ta crease a fella’s scalp. I’m a fair shot, that I be, but ‘ere are some things what just takes time an’ attention. I bet yer Mr. Birmin’am couldna’ve done any better if’n he’da’ve taken aim. He might’ve missed Mr. Fridrich completely if’n he’da’ve really meant ta shoot him.”

  “My husband would never consider doing such a thing unless forced to defend his home or his family! He doesn’t go around shooting people simply because he takes a notion, as you seem capable of doing at the slightest provocation, Olney. As to that, I remember quite distinctly when you held a pistol to my head and threatened to do away with me if I didn’t conform to Gustav’s dictates.”

  “That was only ta make ye awares o’ who was boss. Mr. Fridrich was in some kind o’ awful misery wit’ his arm an’ all, an’ ‘ere was Doc Clarence needin’ yer assistance. But no! Ye were a-jeerin’ at Mr. Fridrich like the cold-hearted bitch ye are.” He shook his head in exaggerated bemusement. “I swear, I don’t know what Mr. Fridrich sees in ye. I’ll grant ye, ye’re a winsome li’l thing wit’ a shape ta match, but as for meself, I likes women wit’ some heart . . .” his pale gray eyes danced with prurient amusement as he dropped his gaze to her soft bosom again and held his cupped hands out away from his own male breasts, “an’ melons as big an’ ripe as . . .”

  “Don’t be vulgar, Olney,” Raelynn snapped, highly miffed. “It shows your lack of breeding.”

  His lips twisted in a derisive smirk. “Oh, I suppose a fancy liedy like yerself would be more interested in a bloke’s breedin’ instead o’ what’s in his breeches.”

  Raelynn’s eyes flashed indignantly. His lewd talk was getting to be a bit more than she could handle. It was one thing to converse with Jeff about body parts, but quite another thing entirely to endure obscene references to those same areas when they came from a wily rapscallion. “You’d better be on your way, Olney, before my husband returns and finds you here. Or you’re going to wish you had.”

  “I ain’t worried none ’bout that ‘ere rich gent ye married. Why, I could best an ol’ buck like him any day o’ the week. ‘Sides, I knows how ta keeps meself safe an’ out o’ the reach o’ his sort. Me folks packed up ta sail here after leavin’ ‘ose filthy tenements o’ Southwark. Indentured themselves ta do it, they did. Now that I thinks o’ it, maybe we didn’t live so far away from that highfalutin London mansion where Cooper Frye said ye were born. M’liedy High An’ Haughty, that’s what ye be. But I’ve been in this here area since I was knee-high ta a duck an’ can tromp through Carolina swamps wit’ as much ease as some folk stroll along Church Street. Thoughs ta tell ye the truth, I ain’t afraid ta prance meself along any boardwalk in Charl’ton an’ thumb me nose at yer Mr. Fancy Breeches or that ‘ere ploddin’ sheriff friend o’ his.”

  Raelynn caught a glimpse of a familiar figure emerging from the upper office of the warehouse and turned a confident smile upon her antagonist. “You’ll have a chance to do just that in another moment, Olney. That old buck, as you call him, is coming back this very moment.”

  In spite of his boastful claims, Olney took his leave with undue haste, but in fleeing the landau, he captured the attention of the one who was presently descending the back stairs of the warehouse. Jeff had no trouble recognizing the curly-headed blond and immediately gave chase, wrenching a frightened gasp from Raelynn, who scrambled down on trembling limbs from the conveyance.

  “Jeffrey, come back!” she cried in spiraling apprehension. Her husband made no effort to comply, but with coattails flying out behind him, raced after the stockier, shorter-legged man, by swift degrees closing the distance between them. Raelynn clasped a hand to her swiftly beating heart and tried once more to persuade him to give up the chase. “He may have a pistol, Jeffrey! Please! Come back!”

  A briskly approaching six-in-hand of stout drays hauling a heavily weighted wagon brought Jeff up short in the middle of the street. By the time he skirted around it, he faced a hired livery passing in the opposite direction. As for Olney, he was nowhere in sight.

  Determined to find the young tough, Jeff ran along the thoroughfare for several blocks, hurriedly glancing down alleyways and into open doorways of shops. He found no evidence of the young miscreant. What was worse, he had no idea in which direction Olney had gone. Frustrated and angry with himself for having let the brigand escape, Jeff gave up his pursuit and strode back toward the carriage, pausing briefly at the entrance of his shipping yard where he picked up his top hat from the dust. Brushing it off, he approached the landau and gave his wife a rakish grin as he settled the topper jauntily upon his head.

  “Good as new.”

  “That may be all well and good for your hat, Jeffrey Birmingham, but I’ve aged considerably in the last few moments,” Raelynn quipped in exasperation. “I wish you wouldn’t scare me like that. Olney has already proven himself capable of shooting you for his own gain. You have a crease in your scalp to confirm that fact. Running after the rascal is an open invitation for him to make another attempt on your life. And just think how delighted Gustav would be if Olney managed to kill you.”

  Jeff was keenly aware of the German’s desire to claim his wife in any manner he could, which did much to nettle his temper whenever he thought about it. “I can imagine the height of that oaf’s elation should such a fate befall me, my pet, but I have no intention of letting Olney kill me, at least not while I’m facing him.” His eyebrows shrugged upward briefly. “My back is a different matter entirely.” Slipping a hand beneath Raelynn’s arm, he assisted her into his carriage as he muttered, “I just can’t abide the idea of that toad roaming free after he nearly killed me and threatened to do the same to you while you were in his clutches.”

  Pausing to glance toward the driver’s seat, Jeff gave directions to the smartly liveried black man sitting there. “If you please, Thaddeus, kindly take us around to Ives’s Couture.”

  “Yassuh, Mistah Jeffrey. Ah’ll be doin’ that very thin’ just as soon as yo’ get lit, suh.”

  The conveyance swayed slightly as Jeff climbed in and settled into the seat beside his young wife, who eagerly scooted closer. Grinning down at her, he threaded lean fingers through hers and diminished the space between them until their hips were nigh joined and his shoulder overlapped hers.
“Now tell me, my sweet, what did that rapscallion say to you?”

  Raelynn complied, sparing none of the details of Olney’s callousness, though by the time she had finished informing Jeffrey, her cheeks were hotly flushed. “In spite of that oaf’s pompous boasts, the sight of you completely shattered his bravado. He lit out like a singed rabbit in his haste to get away. Perhaps next time he’ll think twice before calling you an old buck. ‘Tis evident you can easily outdistance him.”

  “ ‘Twould seem that Olney isn’t the bashful sort in spite of Rhys’s attempts to find him. I imagine the scamp has been enlisted to carry out his employer’s mischief, at least until Gustav fully recovers from his shoulder wound. There’s no predicting where Olney may be in weeks to come, but I’d like to be prepared the next time we meet up with him. I should’ve been more wary this time and not left you alone in the carriage. I shan’t be so foolish again, madam.”

  Raelynn stroked the arm that rested casually against her breast. “I wasn’t alone, Jeffrey. Thaddeus was here.”

  Jeff gently scoffed. “My dear, Thaddeus is nearly twice as old as I am, which makes that scamp a mere pup to him. Olney could have carried you off and left the old man scrambling vainly in his wake.”

  A pensive sigh escaped Raelynn. “I’d certainly feel a lot safer if Sheriff Townsend could lock Gustav and Olney behind bars for the next ten years.” Her fingers traced the tendons and veins etching the lean hand that clasped her own in her lap as she remembered the grief that had nearly overwhelmed her when she had thought that Olney had killed Jeff. Lifting her eyes to admire her husband’s handsome profile, she murmured softly, “I lost both my parents within the past seven months, Jeffrey, and not too many weeks ago, I thought I had lost you, too. I couldn’t bear it if you were slain. I beg you, please, please spare me such anguish. Leave the arrest of Olney to your sheriff friend.”