The music swirled inside Jeannie's head as she gave herself over to the rhythm and surrendered completely to Sam, trusting him without hesitation. In his arms she took flight, experiencing once again the freedom she would never know without his support.
When Manton stopped playing and quiet descended, Sam led Jeannie back to the table. She retrieved her cane before they left the veranda for a moonlight stroll on the beach behind the cottage.
The new moon glimmered in the black sky, almost translucent in its pale beauty. A scattering of distant stars winked at them. The ocean waves spread their moon-kissed white foam across the beach, then, recalling the tide, washed away their tracks in the sand. Sam supported Jeannie with his arm around her waist as they stood on the beach, the water licking at their legs.
When Jeannie tired, her slow gait hampered by the sand, Sam lifted her in his arms and carried her to the top of the knoll that overlooked the beach where she'd found his nearly lifeless body six years ago. Placing her on the ground, he sat beside her and pulled her close. She laid her head on his shoulder.
Words were unnecessary. Each knew what the other thought and felt. Sam could not deny how he felt about Jeannie, how desperately he wanted her, how much a part of him she had become.
They sat on the knoll, their damp legs entwined, holding hands and listening to the ocean's gentle rumble as they looked at the night sky.
Then Sam turned to her, cupped her face with both hands and whispered her name aloud. She sighed. A lone teardrop fell from her eye onto his hand.
"It's all right, angel," he said. "This will be a totally new experience for both of us. I have no idea what will happen. The first time for most women is—"
She covered his lips with her index finger. "I'm not like most women. And you, Sam Dundee, are most definitely not like most men."
"I don't want to hurt you." He kissed her tenderly.
"The pain of wanting you without having you is far worse than any pain I'll feel. It will be a pain I'll soon forget in the pleasure that will follow." Curling her arms around his neck, she returned his kiss as their combined emotions began flowing inside her. "Sam?"
He rubbed his hand up and down the side of her thigh, bunching the cotton material of her full skirt, lifting it higher and higher with each upward motion. They fell back onto the ground. Lowering his head, Sam kissed the tops of her swollen breasts rounding above the strapless bodice of her sundress. He palmed her feminine mound through the silk of her panties. She arched up to meet his touch.
Sam leaned over her, his mouth and hands exploring the woman who lay beneath him. Jeannie. Sweet, beautiful, innocent Jeannie.
She moaned into his mouth when he kissed her again. Clinging to him, whimpering her need, stroking her body against his, she incited him to deepen the kiss. He ripped away the material covering her breasts, then slid his hand inside her panties and delved into her moist, welcoming heat.
Overwhelming desire claimed her. Desire so all-consuming she thought she would die from its intensity. Her desire. And Sam's desire.
Releasing her mouth, he breathed deeply. "Not here. Not on the hard ground, exposed like this. Not our first time."
"Then take me home, Sam. Take me home and make me yours."
With his heartbeat wild, his desire at fever pitch, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the house. He opened the French doors leading from the veranda into her bedroom, walked into the moonlit sanctuary and laid her down on the pure white bed.
Chapter 12
« ^ »
Moonlight suffused the room, coating the walls with pale luminance, casting a yellow-white glow over the floor and furniture, surrounding Jeannie like a body halo of purity. The summer breeze swept inside through the open windows and French doors, encompassing them in a warm cocoon. The ocean's undulatory melody drifted in on the night air.
Jeannie sat up in the middle of the bed and removed her sundress. Wearing only a pair of pink silk panties, her breasts thrusting forward as she braced the palms of her hands on each side of her hips, she smiled and called his name.
"Sam…"
She was a siren now, an enticing vixen with a woman's needs. And yet she was still an angel, so pure and innocent and compassionate.
Jeannie lay back on the bed, her heartbeat drumming in her ears, as she reached up, inviting Sam into her arms. She burned with a need she had never known before Sam Dundee entered her secure world. He had changed everything. After she saved his life, nothing had ever been the same again. And now that he had returned, possessed with a need to protect her, to care for her, their fate was sealed.
Since the night she had suffered agony for him, they had been partially united, their souls connected by a thin, invisible cord. With each passing day they were together, they became closer, their feelings for each other growing stronger. Tonight they would become one. There could be no going back, only forward, straight ahead into the bonding of their souls.
Sam could remember nothing in his life he'd ever wanted more than he wanted Jeannie. His Jeannie. His sweet, beautiful angel.
With arms uplifted, her face kissed with moonlight, she waited for him. He wanted to rip off his clothes and thrust into her with wild abandon. But Jeannie was no ordinary woman. What was happening between them was special, unique. Something to be experienced fully, savored lovingly. He could not rush their lovemaking. For her, this would be the first time. And it would be a first for him, too. Making love to a woman who could feel his every emotion, who could experience his desire and his pleasure. The very thought of what lay ahead scared him as much as it excited him.
Sam unbuttoned his short-sleeved cotton shirt, slid it off his shoulders and tossed it onto the floor at the foot of Jeannie's bed. The way she looked at him—her eyes caressing him, her lips tasting him, her hands tormenting him without once touching him—stirred his blood and hardened his body.
Thick, cascading strands of her silky brown hair covered one bare breast, leaving the other an uncovered temptation. Her breasts rose and fell as she breathed. Her lips parted on an indrawn sigh.
He sensed her longing, her need a viable force, strong enough to sweep them both over the edge of conscious action. He had to remain in control for just a while longer, until he was certain he wouldn't hurt her, wouldn't destroy her with the power of his desire.
Unzipping his navy blue shorts, Sam didn't take his eyes off Jeannie. He trembled, wanting her, needing her. Lured by her femininity, lost to her seductive charms, he surrendered to the desire he could no longer control.
Sliding his shorts down to his ankles, he kicked them aside. He stood before her, all power and masculine muscle, in a pair of navy blue briefs, his sex straining against the silk fabric. Perspiration moistened his hands and forehead; dots of sweat broke out across his upper lip. A white-hot need seared him to the bone.
Jeannie wanted to touch him, to run her hands over every inch of his body, caress every bulging muscle, kiss his tiny, pebble-hard nipples, thread her fingers through the thatch of thick brown hair on his chest. If only he would come to her, allow her to touch him.
Her magnificently beautiful, elegant savage.
Sam eased down on the bed, placing his knees on either side of her feet. Crawling slowly up her body, bracing himself with his hands so that the contact was whisper light, he covered her body with his. She touched him hesitantly at first, sweeping her hands across his shoulders. He shuddered; she trembled.
And then exactly what she had been waiting for happened. The connection. The blending. Gradually, with just faint glimmers of awareness, Jeannie felt Sam's hunger and knew that it more than equaled hers. He was a virile man, experienced in the ways of the world, and yet he was uncertain. He was afraid his desire would be too much for her to handle, that it would be too powerful for her fragile innocence.