Page 56 of Frankly, My Dear

For a long time he lay atop her, breathing raggedly, his heart pounding loudly. He raised himself on straightened arms, gazing down at Selene, who still looked at him with absolute amazement.

Suddenly, without warning, Blossom stormed in, crying, “What happened? We heard the screamin’ all the way down to the kitchen, and…oh, Lordy!” Quickly, with her brown eyes practically bulging from their sockets, she took in the scene, then shooed Iris and Reba out the door, along with a number of slaves, not to mention Etienne with Iris’s little twin boys, Cain and Abel.

“The mistress fell, and the master is jist tryin’ to help her up,” Blossom quickly explained.

James thought he heard snickers. Then his son remarked crudely, “My papa is prob’ly pokin’ his pizzle in the skinny wench.”

A loud whacking sound followed.

“Ouch! Wha’dja swat me fer, Blossom? I wuz jist tellin’ Cain and Abel—”

“You be doin’ any more tellin’ and you gonna have blisters on your backside,” Blossom scolded. Soon their voices faded away as they descended the stairs.

“Oh, I’m so embarrassed,” Selene said. “How will I ever be able to face anyone?”

James could just imagine the reaction of Fergus and his workers when he finally returned to the fields, but he decided Selene didn’t need to know that.

“Once you make yourself presentable, I’m sure no one will remember what they saw,” he comforted her. But he didn’t believe his own words. Mon Dieu, the woman’s bruised and swollen lips alone proclaimed their recent activity. And the brushburns on her face and neck from his morning stubble probably wouldn’t fade for days.

He tried to push the wild hair off her face with both hands but it kept springing right back up, and out, with a will of its own…like its owner. Finally he gave up.

“Well, perhaps you are going to be the talk of the South but more for your hazelnut eyes and buckwheat hair,” he teased. “I wonder what other foods you have hidden on your person.”

“I’m serious, James.”

“So am I. Let’s see what other edible body parts you have.” He examined her thoughtfully, then grinned mischievously. “Berries?” he offered, looking at the hardened peaks on her chest. “Or honey, perhaps?” he asked, casting his eyes lower.

“Oh, you!” She shoved him playfully, and he rolled off her. Moving out of his arms, she stood and almost fell as her knees threatened to fold with weakness from their recent activity.

He was inordinately pleased.

She walked toward the mirror, and her mouth dropped open in shock. “Oh, my goodness!” Wet circles of fabric clearly displayed her breasts and the vee of her drawers.

He chuckled, folding his arms behind his head, and watched her with smoldering eyes. Suddenly shy, she grabbed a long wrapper and held it in front of her exposed body.

“It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think, chérie?”

She blushed becomingly. “If you’re getting such amusement out of my condition, perhaps you should examine yourself.” She looked pointedly at the joining of his thighs.

He glanced down and grinned, seeing the wide, damp stain on his trousers.

“Aren’t you even embarrassed?”

He should have been. But he wasn’t. “Selene, sweetheart, I haven’t gained such enjoyment from spilling my seed since I was twelve years old.”

Selene put both hands on her hips and glared down at James—the arrogant, infuriating, wonderful man. His pale eyes glittered with the afterglow of passion, caressing her admiringly. She noticed then that her posture called attention to her half-clad body. With a tsk of disgust, she went over to the armoire where she selected a light poplin day dress and pulled it over her head. She turned, about to ask James to help her fasten the back of the gown when she noticed that he no longer lay on the floor watching her. Nor was he smiling.

He had straightened his shirt and trousers, and the usual somber expression had returned to his face. He was staring past her shoulder, almost with horror.

She jumped out of the way quickly, fearing that one of the many bayou pests had crept into her room, maybe even a snake. “Oh, Lord! What? What is it?”

James brushed past her without speaking and opened the double doors of the armoire wider. Lifting her white ballgown out, he held it toward her accusingly. His blue eyes pierced the distance between them, and she shivered with apprehension.

“I forgot. May all the saints curse me for a fool, but I forgot.” He regarded the precious gown with such disdain that Selene feared he might rip it to shreds.

“You forgot?”

“Oui.”