Stands a Calder Man (Calder Saga 2)

She tipped her head back to look at him and see what was in his eyes. There was a quiet expectancy in her expression, a waiting for something else he hadn’t said. “Yes,” she admitted without any hesitance. She wasn’t satisfied with what she saw in his face and pulled slowly out of his arms. Webb frowned when she turned away from him. “Where do we go from here?” she asked.

The pride of her carriage and the steadiness of her voice began to make an impression on him. Slowly Webb began to understand the cause for her proud reticence. She didn’t know what role he was asking her to fill—that of a lover, a mistress, or his wife. She was concerned that he thought less of her because she had lain with him and let her feelings be known to him while she was married to another man. She didn’t want to be regarded as less worthy of his respect.

Webb came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them in a caressing way and feeling the tremor of need that ran through her. She swayed backward a little, surrendering to his touch.

“I’d like to take you straight to my bed.” The clean smell of her dark copper hair stirred him. “But I think we’d better see the minister first.”

She swung around, her gaze sweeping his face to be certain he meant it. The rigidity went out of her body as he gathered her into his arms. The deep hunger in her kiss raced through him like fire, shaking him. It was a power she had over him that lifted him to some far height and let him glimpse the glory a man and a woman could know.

When they drew apart, neither of them was satisfied, but it was a simple matter that kisses alone wouldn’t satisfy their needs and there was a moment of assurance required on both parts before another step was taken. Her long lips were swollen from his possessive kisses and the short stubble on his face had reddened her skin. The light in her blue eyes was especially for him. She ran a finger above his upper lip.

“You’re sweating,” she murmured, then took his hand and laid it above her breast. “Can you feel my heart pounding?”

“Yes.” His own was racing like a steam engine, and his breath was coming just as rapidly. He slid his hand down to cover her breast, so taut and full against his palm. “Lilli.” There were a thousand nights of wanting her wrapped up in the groaning whisper of her name.

She came against him, resting her head on his shoulder and possessively curving her arms around him. An exciting contentment was on her, pleased with him and pleased with herself. She studie

d the throbbing pulse in his throat and the tanned column of his neck.

“Why didn’t you come to see me during all that time?” she asked.

Surprise and bewilderment darkened his expression as he tipped his head down, trying to see her face. “You made it clear you were a married woman and didn’t want to see me again,” he reminded her.

“I know,” Lilli murmured.

“Was I supposed to disregard that?” His mouth quirked dryly.

“Sometimes I hoped you would, even though I was relieved that you didn’t.” She was aware of the contradiction in her answer and smiled at it, because it didn’t make it any less true.

“Is that an example of female thinking?” Webb taunted gently. “You ask me to stay away, but you want me to come. You tell me to forget you and find someone else, then hope I don’t.”

She tilted her head back to look at him, smiling, all gay and confident. “Yes, that’s precisely what I meant.”

“That kind of logic is not easily followed.” He kissed at her lips, feeling them cling to his.

Then her fingertips were there, exploring the firm line of his mouth and tracing the crease that ran beside it. “I’ve only been widowed for three weeks. People will talk if we get married so soon.”

That struck a raw nerve. “I don’t care if propriety dictates a year’s mourning period. You’ve fulfilled whatever obligation you felt you owed Stefan. You’ll be my wife—Mrs. Webb Calder—and no one will dare say anything against you. So let them talk. Nothing they might do or say can touch us,” he insisted roughly.

She listened to his words, weighing them against her own feelings. There was a part of her that would have preferred not to rush into marriage, not to allow it to be a solution of convenience to settle where she would go, and to take time to be lovers before they settled into a routine of man and wife.

Her hesitation was obvious, and Webb realized her hint to delay their visit to the minister was a way of obtaining something else. It wasn’t hard to understand, given the meanness of her past life and given the blandness of her practical marriage to Stefan.

“You’d like it if I would woo you and observe all the niceties of courtship, wouldn’t you?” he guessed and observed her surprise at his accuracy. “You want me to win your love all over again.”

“Is that so wrong?” There was something half-teasing and half-serious in her look.

“It isn’t wrong,” he assured her with a faint grin. “It’s impossible. One week. That’s all you’re going to have before the wedding, and I’m taking you home with me today. I have no intention of letting you change your mind.”

“You like being masterful, don’t you?” Lilli mocked, showing him the bold side of her nature again, rushing in where even fools trod softly. “You like the idea of telling me what to do. Well, it just so happens, Mr. Webb Calder, that it’s what I want, too.”

It was all that needed to be said. The long, drugging kiss affirmed everything else. The thrusting contours of his body were hard against her straining flesh, arousing a desire that had lain dormant for so long. Her emotions no longer had to be repressed; no longer were they withering inside her, but instead were flourishing and blossoming in a way that was basic and timeless. She shuddered at the stimulating nibbles his mouth made on her ear, on the pulsing vein in her neck.

With an effort, he lifted his head and combed his fingers into her hair. “I want you to pack your things.” It would have been easy to continue this embrace through to the conclusion they both wanted. But when she finally lay in his arms, Webb wanted it to be under his roof—not here where she had lived with Stefan. “Only bring your clothes and the personal belongings you want to keep. The rest you can sell or give away. I’ll be back a little later to get you.”

Her hands curved around his neck, bringing his head down for a last kiss. “I’ll be waiting.”

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