Chapter Thirty-One

Samantha entered her chambers, posed at her reflection in the mirror, brushed a curl into place, and dabbed perfume in the cleft between her breasts. The book wrapped in satin ribbon lay on her vanity. She clutched it with her right hand before she descended the steps in silence. Afraid to trip on her gown, her other hand clung to the rock wall, and she became aware of the panic that threatened to engulf her in anticipation of what the evening would bring. In truth, she was petrified, but seduction beckoned and overcame the fear. Would he be there?

When she reached the bottom, alarm overtook her. Her breathing raced, and her hands shook, now convinced she dared too much. About to turn around and go back, the sound of Raven’s soft whisper calmed her like a warm breeze after a storm.

“I’m here, Samantha. Allow me to assist you.” He reached to steady her with his assured touch.

The nearness of him soothed her, any fear now forgotten.

His fingers on her lips caressed lovingly in a signal to be silent. The touch of his arm encircling her waist relieved her anxiety. Samantha allowed him to lead her down the path toward the lake and the boathouse in the semi-dark night with a full moon to illuminate the way.

Did he sense her trepidation?

Further from the main house, he spoke in low dulcet tones. “I’m pleased you didn’t change your mind. The boathouse is my favorite place. I’d like it to become yours, too.”

A shadow of a man appeared. She startled, stopped, and looked up to Raven wide-eyed.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s one of my men.” He nodded and the man withdrew into the darkness. “Now, at least for a short time, I can relax and be a man who is bewitched by you.”

Raven stepped aside and she entered through an open door. He followed her and secured the lock. A few discreet candles lit the room, but the full moon and bright star-studded midnight sky provided the romantic atmosphere.

Samantha broke the silence of the moment. “I have this book for you, Raven. It’s the first edition of poems by John Keats. There is a note for you inside.” She held the book in her hand for him to take.

She gazed upward, drawn to his steel dark gray eyes tinged with silver, his softer side, she thought. His male stature, animal magnetism, and deep, strong presence made her aware of how much she wanted this man to hold her close, touch her with those long manicured fingers, and make her a true woman. Somehow she knew he would fulfill all her naïve expectations. Everything about him was majestic. Magical, too?

Something happened to her. Her control vanished like an unrequited wish. His nearness became undeniable. If she lost her courage now, she might never know the tenderness of his touch and the joy of his closeness. If he didn’t kiss her now, she’d perish.

Conscious of how he looked at her, she wanted to melt into his arms and throw herself at him. She’d be patient for he would have to make the first gesture. And when he did, what would she do? His full chiseled lips made her pray he would seek hers. She begged his touch in unspoken words, a supreme act for her.

It might have been courage or foolishness or some other emotion that propelled her when she walked to him, gazed with deep and hopeful eyes, and gathered every ounce of courage she possessed. “I also wish to give you another present.”

“I believe I told you once that I did like presents, but I don’t see anything else,” Raven assessed her empty hands.

This astute, articulate man could be obtuse. She would have to play the part of the anxious widow. Her eyes glanced demurely before she lowered her gaze, and said in a soft sensual tone. “Your present stands in front of you, should you wish to accept. It is me.”

His smile stilled in the moonlight. Samantha liked the way firelight danced off his eyes in response.

“I see the shock on your face. I’m not presumptuous. There is something between us that we should not deny. Please believe me when I say this. I’m at a loss here, and I have a great need of you to show me things I have never experienced before.” The supplication became a sultry invitation.

There, she said it.

“Never?” Raven asked with significant interest in his voice.

Samantha decided it would be best not to answer, and ignored his question. What should she do now? Would he reject her? In a display of bravery, she waited for his response and steeled herself for anything and everything, but she hoped secretly he would oblige.

Then she faced him. “In our last conversation, you did offer your services. Have you changed your mind?” Good gracious, where did the hussy uttered words come from? Her lips? Her heart? Her insanity?

“No,” he answered. “I am yours to command.”

She moved toward him.

Raven thought it more than a walk…she swayed—a slow waltz where her hips were pronounced. It attracted his attention, true. Not promiscuous, or flamboyant, or sexual, yet it spiraled to more than that. All three combined with the addition of grace and allure. In other words, she exuded femininity like the goddess she was.

Samantha stood in front of him, “I command you to make love to me.” She tilted her chin to him.

“A command I’m happy to obey,” In his imagination, Raven likened her to a statue of Venus, all luscious curves, oval chiseled face and long hair that begged to be touched—by him and his hands. Her eyes were luminous verdant pools. Her gown accented her shoulders, breasts, and hips. To him, she was the essence of feminine charm. A sensual aura surrounded her like a halo. The vision in his mind heightened his desire again. Everything within him ached for her soft touch—here, there and everywhere.

Raven took her to him and held her in his arms. “Your skin smells of sensuality, and your fragrance permeates the closeness between us while my body responds to yours with pleasant sensations.” The words he uttered were foolish when all he wanted to do was to strip her naked and make love as she commanded him. What were promises or proposals when the heat within him soared like a raging forest fire inflamed by a woman with seemingly unworldly eyes. Damnation.

“Samantha, do you have any idea what you do to me?” The bulge in his trousers sought to escape when he pressed into her. His body tightened, and his major muscle stood at attention. A strong emotion overwhelmed him, and he became awestruck and somewhat disbelieved when he asked, “Do you know what you’ve offered, Samantha? If I refuse, I would indeed be a scoundrel. If I accept, I compromise you. I promised your aunt…”

“If so, why did you invite me here? For secret kisses and nothing else. We can do that anywhere on the estate.”

The moment she moved her hands to his chest, his reaction was volcanic.

“Could it be that you don’t want me? Am I mistaken? Or is there another reason?” she asked.

Raven tried to summon his noble intentions, but there was no response. He encircled her with his arms, one hand splayed in the small of her back. Explosive currents raced through him. “I must know what your intent is. Do you realize how much you offer me?”

Samantha blushed. “Yes, I do. I don’t seem to be able to live without a thought of you that dominates me. Your masculinity consumes me. You personify manliness and I yearn for you to fulfill me.”

“I don’t know if I can offer a commitment in return.” Raven’s warm breath whispered into her ear.

“I don’t recall I’ve asked for any.”

The moment reeled him. He knew full well decisions based on emotions were not always wise ones. Could this be too good to be true? Was there an ulterior motive? This beautiful widow offered herself to him without condition? Was it entrapment she had in mind? Or was she true?

He’d waited for this night with her. Should he not enjoy it and all she offered? Damnation.

“Raven, there is an insatiable desire within me. My body loses control, and I find myself in need to reach out to you with the purity of a sensation so strong it makes me hungry for you in a physical way. I don’t know if I make sense to you, but it’s as if we are one soul, a single essence.”

“The use of the word purity does not signify coming from a widow,” he said, brow furrowed.

She ignored his pointed response. The softness in her voice was melodious. “This is a night for truths between us. Gaze at me, dear Raven.”

“Yes, Samantha?” He looked deep into her eyes, his mind and needs in conflict with each other. After all, she appeared to be a most agreeable woman, and his wants became greater than his control. She stood tall, extended her arms. “What more can I do? Let me breathe the air that you do. Please take the gift I offer.”

Samantha pleaded, “I need fulfillment and you are the only man for me. You might say I came to a scientific discovery in a logical manner. Now, I believe passion has entered into the equation.”

He looked into her eyes and saw forever. Her hands alongside his face demanded. The touch of her hand to his jaw seared. He kissed her lips, then plundered.

He stopped and withdrew his mouth, but her words fell on anxious ears.

“I have chosen you for all that you are. Will you now choose me? We can forego tomorrow, but for tonight, we have each other. Let fate decide our destiny.” She reached for his hand and placed it on her swelling breast. “Raven?”

“Yes, Samantha?”

“Do you feel the magic in the air?”