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His honeyed irises glowed in the firelight, his black hair disheveled and wild around his temples from the fervor of our lovemaking. He looked like a god, ferocious and celestial, and he was pledging to bleed for me with grave sincerity.
His expression softened.
“Come.” He pulled the surprisingly intact straps of my chemise over my shoulders, the tattered front of the article barely offering modesty. He fixed himself, then gathered my clothes off the floor. I slid from the desk, wobbly and already deliciously sore. As he shrugged on his shirt, heedless of the red stains he would leave, I attempted to dress. The skirt was loose on my hips with the button missing but would stay. My blouse, however, was destroyed. With a playful quirk of his mouth, Callum took it from me, tossed it into the paper basket, no consideration of who might find it, then grabbed his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. I wondered how I would dare make it to my room in such a state. When I was sorted, he took me by the hand and led me to the library door, pausing to glance cautiously down the hall, making sure no one was nearby.
“Where are we going?” I asked, still feeling tipsy.
“After all that, I certainly don’t plan on excusing you for the day.”
Clandestine lovers, we trekked down hallways still kissed with afternoon sunlight, watching for anyone who might intercept us, and soon arrived at a familiar room. His. He ushered me in and locked the door behind us.
Chapter 17
The sunset found us lying in the professor’s bed, wrapped in the sheets, my head against his chest. He stroked my hair, running his fingers along the short ends with reverence. My body was as satiated as it could be and sore in several areas I wouldn’t confess. Callum’s passions were voracious, and I’d been unwilling to deny him anything. Repeating in my head were echoes of the things he’d whispered: obscene instructions, sensual encouragements, and words of love.
Before him, I hadn’t been untouched, my virginity lost at eighteen to a graduate student I’d met at a Christmas party. I’d hardly known him, but I’d wanted to get it over with, to remove a life mystery that loomed over the heads of all of my friends. It had been quick, uncomfortable, and passionless. Of course, my mother had never talked to me about sex, not even to shame me, and I’d often wondered if it was simply because it wasn’t anything special. My first experience corroborated my theory.
Callum had shattered that conception.
As we lay together, the dark growing longer, he pulled me close and slipped his fingers into mine.
“Tell me your secrets, Miss Foxboro,” he whispered into my ear.
My secrets. For some short blissful hours I’d forgotten I’d had any, but here they were to haunt me again in my happiest moment.
Shaking my head slowly and trying to battle the fresh guilt plaguing me, I replied, “Tell me yours.”
He was quiet.
“You asked me about opening the house again,” he said at last. “I’ve decided to. However, when the cold comes again, I’m going away.”
“Away?”
“I need separation from Willowfield. The winters here are too harsh. If the work still isn’t done, I’ll bring it, and if you would oblige, I’d like for you to come as well.”
I shifted, propping myself up to properly see his face. My addled brain wasn’t following his logic.
“As your assistant?”
Stunned, he stared at me for two agonizing beats, then began to laugh. It was the first time I’d heard the sound so unreserved, resonating, shaking his body, and he became beautiful in a new way.
“No, you little fool,” he managed when he’d finally caught his breath, eyes bright with mirth. He drew me back to him, and I tucked my head beneath his chin and listened to the thrum of his heartbeat in his throat, sheltered momentarily from my dark thoughts.
“I think it’s unsuitable, with the things I’ve done to you,” he said, running his fingers along my naked side, “for you to continue to refer to yourself as my assistant.”
“It’s true none of this was in the job description.”
“Do you have complaints?”
“None at the moment.”
“Hard to please,” he murmured. “I like it.”
I indulged in the daydream. “Where will we go?”
“Wherever we’ve any inclination to. Somewhere away from this place until it’s alive again.”
I silently observed the fire from over the swell of our tangled legs, enjoying the sweet speculation of a future with Callum while I was able.
