Expectations fulfilled. Precisely twenty-one minutes later they set out, a covered basket and towels in the small bed of the gig. Emma hadn’t even considered protesting. Ren might ask politely, but she was certain he’d have come looking for her if she’d not shown up. In truth, she hadn’t wanted to protest. After the surprises of the morning, she wanted to get out of the house, away from the dark memories.
‘I want to see the island,’ he’d said and he turned over their direction to her care. She decided their first destination would be the limestone caves between Sugarland and the beaches. Along the way, she pointed out the natural flora, saying things like, ‘That tree with the pink flowers is frangipani. Those long red-orange leaves belong to the croton plant.’ They passed a cluster of yellow-and-purple flowers. ‘That’s allamanda. It has no smell.’ It was an easy conversation to make. There was no risk to it. Flowers were harmless and the small talk helped her relax.
‘You’re amazing. You know everything,’ Ren complimented. He steered the gig beneath a tree and got down to picket the horse in the shade. ‘I’m duly impressed with your botanical knowledge.’ He bent down and plucked a flower from a nearby bush. ‘Allamanda, right?’
‘Yes, but be careful!’ Emma jumped down from the gig. ‘It’s a milk flower. Its nectar can blister you if you’re not cautious.’ She grabbed the flower from him.
Ren laughed and held up his hands. ‘I am at your mercy, my dear.’ He glanced around, taking in the lush green surroundings. ‘Where is this cave of yours?’
‘We’ll have to hike the rest of the way. It’s not far.’ She led the way, the path winding through tall grasses and over stones. The hike was only about a quarter of a mile. She found the entrance and stepped inside. The cave was cool and it was far larger than it appeared. Emma reached for the old lantern that was left on a hook near the entrance and struck a match, illuminating the area.
She moved to the side, wanting to catch a glimpse of Ren’s reaction. She had been here several times since coming to live on the island, but it never ceased to dazzle her.
‘Oh my.’ Ren’s words came out in a gasp of delight. ‘It’s beautiful.’ Long stalactites hung from the ceiling, stalagmites rose up from the ground in ponds of milky-turquoise water.
Emma led the way, holding the lantern out. ‘There’s more to see.’ She led him past pools and along a trickling river, their voices echoing off the cavern walls. The underground river gathered and grew until they came to a ledge. ‘Look down there.’ The water cascaded in a fall, dropping into a pool twenty feet below.
Ren put his hand in the water. ‘It’s warm.’ He sounded surprised. He looked at her and back at the water. ‘Can we get down there?’
‘I don’t know,’ Emma said honestly. ‘I’ve never gone any further than this.’ She’d always been with Merry or with her father. They’d always stopped here.
Ren took the lantern from her and swung its arc of light around. ‘Look, over there. It’s some sort of natural staircase.’
Crude but wide stone steps were cut into the wall. ‘I’ve never noticed them.’ Emma advanced towards them, eager to see them, but Ren put out an arm to stop her.
‘Let me go first. Take my hand.’ It was Ren who led them to the bottom of the stairs, her hand in his firm grip, warm and reassuring on the ancient steps whenever she stumbled. The trip down the stairs was worth it. The waterfall pool steamed in the lamplight, looking magical.
‘It’s like a fairy grove,’ Emma exclaimed in quiet, awed tones.
‘An underground hot spring.’ Ren slanted her a naughty look. ‘It would be a shame to have come this far and not try it out.’ He was already tugging at his boots. ‘Are you game, Emma? How about a swim?’
It was all the invitation Emma needed. She hadn’t swum for some time. She’d used to love it. ‘You’ll have to help me with my dress.’ She was envious of the speed which with Ren was able to undress. His shirt was gone, his boots off before he came to work the fastenings at the back of her gown. She shivered a little at the warmth of his hands, competent and sure as they worked the buttons. How many women had he undressed? His prowess last night suggested he was more than gifted at bed sport.
She shrugged out of her dress and set it aside with her shoes. Ren stood at the water’s edge, pushing down his trousers, revealing taut, muscled buttocks and long legs. It wasn’t polite to stare, but she couldn’t stop herself. There’d been nothing to see last night, only feel. She couldn’t help but wonder what the source of all that pleasure looked like. She wished the lantern light was stronger. If he would just turn around... Darn it, Ren stepped into the water, not turning towards her until he was up to his waist in water.
‘It’s warm!’ he called back to the shore. ‘Let me swim out and see how deep it is.’ In a few powerful strokes, he reached the waterfall and waved. The water reached mid-chest. ‘I’m standing just fine. It’s maybe five feet.’
But Emma hadn’t waited. She’d stripped out of her chemise and undergarments and was feeling self-conscious standing on the shore naked, never mind the light didn’t show much. It would be better to be naked in the water. She executed a shallow dive and swam out to him, revelling in the warm water. ‘This is heaven. We have a giant bathtub all to ourselves.’
They swam, they raced, they dived beneath the surface. They floated lazily on their backs when they tired of their games. They were having fun, Emma realised. There was nothing in their way today: no politics, no Gridley, no plantation. She hadn’t had this much fun with a man, ever. Men were creatures to be guarded against, to be used perhaps, but never enjoyed. One always had to be wary of the strings attached to any pleasure they offered. She’d learned that lesson first with Thompson Hunt and her dealings with Arthur Gridley had reinforced it. In the end, she didn’t expect Ren Dryden to be any different, but for today he was. Today there was a truce.
Ren swam up under her and grabbed her leg. She let out a scream before she realised it wasn’t a sea monster. He popped out of the water, hair streaming while he laughed. ‘I got you!’
‘You scared me!’
He hauled her to him, wrapping her in his arms. ‘I didn’t think anything scared the great Emma Ward.’ He kissed her then, more slowly, more intently than last night or the night he’d claimed his forfeit. Oh, this, too, was a kind of heaven, to be held in his arms, to have her mouth ravished with his kisses, the water lapping against her body.
He lifted her in those arms and carried her to the shore, finding a soft, sandy patch. He laid her down, his hair dripping on her skin as he rose over her. ‘They’re like stalactites.’ She laughed, reaching a hand up to squeeze the water out of the strands. His eyes burned into hers, hot coals of desire as skin met skin, wet and slick. Her tone turned husky. ‘But I don’t mind.’
Ren’s mouth sealed itself over hers. He raised her arms above her head, shackling her wrists in one hand. Their bodies had no choice now but to meet and to meld. Her breasts thrust upwards against his chest, her legs parted to cradle him. He felt right, as if he belonged with her. Maybe it was the magic of the falls, the sense of being part of an ancient world here in the cave. She wanted, she hungered. Her body throbbed for him.
He was nuzzled against her entrance, but he wasn’t done playing, wasn’t done stoking her fires. His mouth sought her breast, his tongue working her rosy peak, sucking and tugging ever so lightly until her hips arched up into his in protest. No more waiting, only claiming. Her body was eager to see if the magic would happen again. She’d shattered for him not once, but twice last night. Would it always be like that?
Ren chuckled at her impatience, his lips pressing kisses to the column of her neck, but she sensed his own desire was pushing him. She spread her legs wider, an invitation he could not refuse. He slid into her and she sighed, luxuriating in the feel of him filling her, of her body shaping itself around him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him, securing him. He thrust once, twice, and she picked up the rhythm, raising her hips to meet him, to join him. This—lying naked in a primeval cave, joined with a man in the oldest pleasure on earth—was decadence defined, sin at its very best.
Their rhythm increased, moving them towards the edge of ecstasy. She bucked hard beneath him, wanting her hands, wanting to bury her nails into his shoulders as an anchor against what was to come, something to hold on to while she broke. But he held her fast, forcing her to free-fall into the pleasure. And she did, one cogent thought in her mind—it was indeed possible.