With a small cry, Virginia bolted upright in bed, her head still swimming from the dream she had just awoken from. Her heart was pounding and she shivered from the thin sheen of sweat covering her trembling body. Shimmering visions of her dream floated through her mind, Drake passionately making love to her, teasing her senses, stretching her nerves taut with lust and desire.
Her thighs were clenching and shaking and with a sudden loud gasp, she reached the climax she had been searching for in her dream. With a groan of frustration she fell back against the sheets. Her desire for him had been bad enough when he had been away but with him constantly around, tempting and teasing her, it was quickly becoming unbearable. She knew there was only one way to ease her torment, but it was unthinkable. Inviting him back into her bed would only satisfy her momentarily and cause more misery than the temporary relief was worth.
Twenty minutes later, as she sat on Liberty staring at the darkened windows of the out-building, she repeated those words to herself, but found that she still didn't turn her horse back to the house. I must be out of my mind to even be out here, she thought to herself. I should just go back to bed. Unbidden, images from her dream again flooded her mind, causing her breath to catch.
Drake stood inside peering at her from behind a small part in the curtains. He had been sitting in the main room of his small house, unable to sleep. In the dim light of the moon shining in through the window he had been staring at the calling card given to him by the pretty blond from the ball. He was getting nowhere with Virginia, and his attempt to ruin Thomas' interest in her had failed and he was beginning to think that maybe he should just try and forget her. The pretty blond was a young widow from France who had boldly told him that she would be more than willing to satisfy him in any manner he wished. Gazing at the card, he had wondered if a dalliance with her while his ship was being repaired would be enough to distract his mind from Virginia. When his ship was ready he would then sail away, never to return, forgetting all about Virginia, Williamsburg and the pretty blond.
With a groan of frustration, he had dragged his fingers through his loose hair, knowing that there was nothing on this earth that would erase Virginia from his mind. He had been about to throw the card into the glowing embers in the grate when he'd heard a horse approaching. Wearing only a pair of breeches, he dropped the card to a side table and slipped his arms into a shirt before going to investigate.
What was she doing out here and why was she just sitting there, staring at the cabin, he wondered. He watched as she tipped her head back, staring up at the stars and sigh heavily, her breath coming out in puffs in the cold night air.
She hung her head, confused emotions swirling in her heart. Unable to forget how she had reacted to his embrace on the balcony during her Christmas Ball made her wonder how she truly felt about him. Was it only lust, is that what she was doing out here? Trying to finish what had started that night? Or was it more?
"Are you going to sit out here all night?" The soft, deep voice startled her and her head jerked up. Drake was standing on his small veranda staring at her, his open shirt lifting slightly in the light breeze.
Watching her, he saw her eyes roam over the muscled planes of his exposed chest and abdomen taking in the intoxicating view of his bare flesh. He could see the hunger blazing in her eyes and confirmed his suspicions of why she had come. He also knew why she wasn't coming any closer. Stepping to the edge of the small porch, he extended his hand. "Come inside V. It's cold out here."
Indecision stormed in her eyes. "Come on. It's warm inside," he gently urged.
With intending to, she slipped from the saddle and knew that she was lost. She would not be leaving the small house any time soon. On unsteady legs she ascended the steps to his front door and went inside.
It was indeed warm inside, but it did little to alleviate her trembling. With shaking fingers she unbuttoned her coat, as he stood behind her, pulling it from her shoulders, when her eyes fell on the calling card laying on the table. Picking it up, she read the name, Marie Aubert. "What is this?" she asked, holding up the card.
"It's from a woman at your party," he responded casually. Perhaps jealousy was a way to make her realize her feelings for him. "She invited me to call on her, and I'm considering it," he said, restarting the fire in the grate.
"Oh?" she asked warily, unsure how to feel about this. She had been glad that he had danced with so many women at the ball, but she didn't think he would seriously consider calling upon any of them. Striving to keep her voice light, she questioned, "Which one was she? Doris created the guest list, I didn't know most of the people there."
"A pretty blond. A couple of years older than you, a young widow. Her husband died on the crossing from France. These cards are quite popular there." He plucked the card from her hand and slid it into his pocket. "She was quite earnest and frank in inviting me to her home," he said with a wicked smile. "Since you're so insistent that I stop bothering you, maybe I'll begin to bother her."
Virginia swallowed nervously, surprised to feel jealousy surging through her. She didn't want him 'bothering' anyone else. Especially not a pretty, young widow.
"Unless you would rather I didn't," he teased.
Frantically she tried to come up with a reason for not wanting him to call upon her. When she couldn't think of anything that wouldn't reveal herself to him or sound hypocritical, she could only say, "Who you see is of no matter to me. I hope you find her to your liking."
"She said she's willing to satisfy me in any way I wish, so that already makes her to my liking. I haven't had another woman since you, my dear, and your confused and volatile emotions are beginning to wear me down. I'm afraid I've lost the desire to fight for you any longer." He pulled the card from his pocket and gazed down at it. "Yes, perhaps an attractive, willing woman is just what I need until my ship is repaired." Slipping the card back into his pocket, he glanced up at her. "But enough about my frustrated desires. What brings you out here in the middle of the night?" His eyes were dancing with amusement, knowing that it was her own frustrated desires had driven her to him.
"I...um...I..." Her brain churned furiously, desperate to think of a reasonable explanation for her midnight visit.
Approaching her, he gently pulled her to him. "I know why you've come. You can't stay away from me anymore than I can stay away from you, can you?" he asked, his voice low.
"No, that's not-" he quickly pressed his lips to hers, cutting off her protests, pulling her tightly against him. Refusing to admit that she wanted him so badly, especially when his interest in her was waning, she pushed at his shoulders, wrenching her mouth from his.
"How dare you assume that I came out here for that! You really do think highly of yourself, don't you? Assuming that every woman around wants you. Well not me. You can have your little, French, blond widow," she sneered, trying to pull out of his embrace.
Without releasing her, he walked her backwards, until her back was pressed against the wall. "I don't want any little, French blonds. I only want you, my fiery, English red head. Only you," he whispered, before his lips again descended to hers.
Twisting her head away, she gasped, "I don't care what or who you want. Let me go!"
"Not until you tell me why you're here," he replied, keeping her pinned to the wall.
"It doesn't matter any more why I'm here. All I want now is to go," she all but shouted at him.
