Page 114 of Frankly, My Dear

Her heart did three more cartwheels and a backspring this time—flip, flip, flip, oomph! She stood and was about to come to him with open arms.

He put up a halting hand. “Not yet, Selene. I’m coiled tighter than a bayou snake. If you touch me now, my fire will be doused in the midst of the crème Brûlée,” he said with a laugh, pointing to the remaining desserts on the table.

She plopped back down to her chair in a rustle of shimmering silk, waiting.

“I have to find Rufus and assign additional guards to the garçonnière for my mother and Etienne. And there are other precautions that must be taken for security against Victor if I am going to be indisposed for the next twelve hours.”

“Twelve hours?” Selene squeaked out.

The air resonated with the intense physical awareness that held them in its thrall. Some tangible bond grew palpably between them—a slender thread spun by the silkworms of time, reinforced by a growing love.

He stood and walked slowly toward her. Putting both hands on her shoulders to prevent her rising, he pressed his warm lips to hers briefly in a tantalizing promise. A spark flashed between them, and delicious flames of erotic anticipation rippled over Selene’s already heightened senses. In truth, the man did know how to light a fire. He really did.

“At least twelve hours,” he said in a thick voice, brushing a forefinger over her parted lips.

Then he left her staring after him, heart beating a wild tomtom accompaniment to the humming in her brain. At the doorway he paused, turned back, and winked.

Rhett couldn’t have done it any better.

An hour later, Selene stood staring out the front parlor windows, watching the approaching dusk settle over the bayou like a sigh. The very chirping of the crickets—large enough to intimidate a New York cockroach—rang musically in her ears.

When had she come to appreciate the serenity of the wild swamplands?

Even the raucous croaking of mating frogs drew a smile to her face. I’ll bet there’s some Rhett-bullfrog sitting on a lily pad right now, winking at some unsuspecting Scarlett-frog.

Lifting a hand to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, she inhaled deeply as the smell of Blossom’s lavender soap rose to her nostrils. Selene had bathed in James’s absence, although she’d donned the same dress again, leaving her shoes and stockings upstairs.

A door slammed below and soft voices wafted up through the silent house. James’s deep, masculine voice mingled with Blossom’s rumbling laughter in the kitchen. Selene heard Blossom shuffling noisily to her room on the lower floor, then James locking doors and windows. He then went up the back stairs to the third and fourth floors and did the same.

At last she heard his step descending the front staircase to the second floor…and her.

Hesitating on the bottom step, he looked through the dusky light into the parlor. His hair had been slicked back wetly, and his white shirt lay open almost to the waist. He must have bathed somewhere outdoors, probably in the stream behind the mansion.

His eyes, smoky blue with passion, held hers for a moment, then swept over her body in appreciation. “Don’t move,” he ordered in a low, husky voice as he secured the doors and windows on this floor, too.

Selene turned back to the tall window, trembling with anticipation. Truly, this marked the first day of her life. Nothing that had happened before mattered. The fact that she came from another time melted into oblivion. She and this man were meant to be. The how and the why were irrelevant.

James came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She lolled her head back on his shoulder, exposing the curve of her neck for his soft kiss.

“Ah, chérie, I have been waiting for this moment for so long.”

“A lifetime,” she agreed, turning in his arms.

He put his hands on her hips and pulled her closer, letting her know just how hard the waiting had been on him.

“Why are you smiling, James?”

“You make me smile, darlin’.” And he smiled even wider.

If her heart did any more cartwheels, Selene thought she might just go into cardiac arrest. “Is that good? Making you smile?”

“Very, very good,” he assured her as he lowered his mouth toward hers, one tempting inch at a time. At first his misty eyes held hers captive. Then the sinfully long lashes fluttered shut in surrender to the overpowering sensuality enveloping them.

Selene moaned.

James smiled against her lips. “Have I lit your fire yet?” he teased, his breath a whispery caress against her parted lips.

“Well, I definitely feel the heat of your flame.”