She looked lovely in the moonlight, and her hand was full of warmth and life. He wanted to bring it to his lips, but Matt’s lecturing had left him feeling guilty as hell. If he couldn’t find the courage to make her his wife, then he didn’t deserve to make love to her. So he sat with her on the riverbank, holding hands and listening to the soothing murmur of the river.
“Sometimes I miss the sounds of my childhood,” he told her, unthinking. “The sounds of cicadas and night birds. It’s so quiet here. Almost too quiet.”
“Cicadas and night birds?” Sarah raised an inquiring brow. “Where did you grow up?”
“Virginia,” Luke answered, cursing himself for leading the conversation to the past.
“I thought I heard the hint of a drawl in your voice,” she told him playfully. “That means you’re a Rebel, just like me.”
He frowned and stared at the moonlight dancing on the rippling water. “I didn’t believe in slavery, Sarah. That’s one of the reasons I came out here. In the West, it’s possible to make a living from the land without the blood and sweat of a hundred men who work for you only because you’ll whip them if they don’t.”
“Did your family own slaves?” She leaned a little closer, peering up at him in the darkness. “You speak so passionately about the subject.”
“When I was a kid, my best friend was a boy named Joe. He was my age. My father gave him to me for my tenth birthday, and we did everything together. Played, fought, rode, and took our lessons.” He smiled bitterly. “Joe was much brighter than I was. But instead of going on to the University with me, my father sent him back out to the fields.”
“That must have been hard on you both.”
Sarah’s soft comment surprised him, and he stared down at her, a flicker of hope blossoming in his chest. Perhaps if she could understand how much he’d loved his friend, she could understand why he’d turned his back on his home and gone to war wearing blue instead of gray.
“I told myself I didn’t care. I tried to convince myself everything was just as it should be. But then Joe got caught trying to escape, and my father had him shot.”
“Is that when you left Virginia?”
“That was part of it,” Luke conceded, regretting his loose tongue. This wasn’t the time to bare his soul.
She seemed to understand that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, because for a while she was quiet again. His tension ebbed away.
“I missed you today,” she said at last.
“Did you?” He raised one brow in disbelief. “I can’t imagine why.”
“There are times when you’re actually quite nice.” She smiled. “You should let that side of you show more often.”
“I’ve forgotten how to be nice,” he admitted. “It’s much easier being alone.”
“I’m sorry I’ve made things so difficult for you,” she whispered. “But if it makes you feel any better, this isn’t easy for me, either.”
He sighed and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry I’ve been pushing you away. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but I have my reasons for not inviting you to sleep in my room.”
“Just tell me you want me here, Luke. Tell me you’re not planning to send me away when you grow tired of me.”
“I could never grow tired of you, Sarah.Never.” He lifted his free hand and brushed his fingertips across the satiny curve of her cheek. Her eyelids drifted shut, and he could feel the rapid rhythm of her heart when he let his hand trail down the slender column of her throat.
Just a kiss, he thought desperately, his pain fading as his passion rose. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips against hers with infinite restraint.
She shuddered and tangled her free hand in his hair, pulling him closer, returning the kiss with sweet abandon. Luke groaned at the fire of her response, desire exploding within him, leaving a million nerve endings quivering in its wake. Despite his earlier promises to himself, he wanted to feel her body, naked and warm, against his. He wanted to possess her and regain the confidence in himself that he’d lost.
The kiss deepened, and Sarah matched him step for step, participating equally in the passionate embrace. He cupped her face with his hands and then let them drift lower, down her throat and across the upper swell of her breasts.
Sarah shivered when Luke’s fingertips brushed her nipples through the fabric of her dress, sending sparks of desire pooling low in the pit of her stomach. He bent over her, his mouth leaving hers to follow in the wake of his hands. She closed her eyes and cupped his beautiful dark head, lost in the magic of his touch.
“Sarah,” he whispered, his hands expertly working the buttons on her bodice. “Let me look at you.”
Within seconds, he had her bare to the waist. He drew back, staring down at her as though she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “I walked in on you that night when you fell asleep in the bath,” he admitted, his voice low and rough. “Your breasts were wet, and I wanted to touch them so much I thought I was going to die.”
She gasped, flushing under his perusal and the weight of his words. He chuckled. Then he sobered and grazed her nipple with his forefinger. “You’re so beautiful, Sarah. I could look at you for the rest of my life.”
His elegant hands played over her body with all the skill he’d lavished on the piano, wringing a soft, breathy gasp from her lips. His touch was sheer heaven, and she didn’t want this night to ever end.
