Only With Your Love (Vallerands #2)(71)

His expression changed. “Celia—”

“If you want to die so badly, I hope they get you and…give you what you deserve! I hope you never come back. You don’t care about anyone, you’re greedy and selfish, and I hate you! I hate you!”

She saw him moving toward her, his stride broken but swift, his face harsh. Thinking he was going to hurt her, she cowered away. He seized her shoulders in his powerful hands, holding her as if she were a rag doll. “No,” she whimpered as he bent and kissed her, his mouth hard and punishing. She sobbed angrily as his arms clamped around her back and hips, pulling her tight against him.

“You’re going to drive me mad,” he muttered, staring down at her white face. “You already have! After that night at the lake I thought I was rid of you, but thoughts of you tormented me day and night. I made plans to come back for you. I thought if I took you one more time I’d discover you were no different from other women. And then I’d be free.” His arms tightened cruelly as Celia fought his embrace. “But then I was wounded and you were there. Every touch of yours was heaven and hell. I thought about putting my hands around your neck and throttling the life out of you—anything to stop you from becoming necessary to me. But it’s too late now. You’re mine, and you have only yourself to blame. You made yourself mine.”

“Don’t,” she wept. “It’s not true—I won’t listen—”

He crushed her mouth in a greedy kiss. Treacherous excitement engulfed her, and she shuddered violently. This was what she wanted, what she needed, his strength wrapped around her, his mouth on hers. Her lips parted to admit his thrusting tongue, and her arms clutched his broad shoulders.

Suddenly Justin’s kiss turned gentle, his lips twisting over hers, his tongue teasing lightly, then sliding deep into her mouth. Celia had never forgotten the taste of him. She moaned and strained her body against him as his hand slid between her thighs, exploring through the folds of her gown. The bulging hardness of his loins pressed against her belly, and she quivered in pleasure. His dark head lowered as he bit the tip of her chin, and then his mouth glided over her white throat. She tilted her head back, her eyes closed, her mind reeling at the love-words he murmured. He was shaking just as much as she was with a hunger that had no end. Both of them were possessed by a sweet madness. She had thought she would never feel it again.

Impatiently Justin searched through her thin muslin gown, cupping her full breast in his hand, his thumb coaxing the soft nipple into a hard peak. “I’ll never get enough of you. Never.” He covered her mouth with his, drinking in her sweetness, and she responded feverishly. Her hands slipped down to his bu**ocks, her fingers digging into the flexed muscles. It was all he could do not to lift up her skirts and sink himself into her soft body.

Raising his mouth with a curse, he dragged her head to his chest and held her shivering form against his. His palm was hot against her cheek, his heartbeat like thunder beneath her ear. Celia clenched handfuls of his shirt in her fists and gasped weakly. It was a long time before the frantic desire faded, leaving an ache in the pit of her stomach. She felt his hand on the side of her face, forcing her to look up at him. His eyes were as blue-black as the sky, and she felt herself drowning in their darkness. “Celia,” he said hoarsely, and touched his lips to hers with incredible gentleness. She wrapped her arms around his neck and burrowed her head against his chest. He nuzzled her hair, his lips playing through the soft wisps at her temple. A cool breeze whisked across her skin, causing her to shiver. His arms tightened before he pulled away from her without a word.

Dazed, she watched him pick up his cane and make his way toward the bayou. Never had her arms felt so empty. Her lips trembled, but she did not call after him. She was possessed by a fear greater than any she had ever known. They had not yet begun to know each other, and already he was a part of her. She was terrified that she could not survive losing him.

“How long did he say he would be gone?” Max asked, utterly controlled, his face like granite.

“Two or three days,” Celia said unsteadily, sitting next to Lysette. Although Celia had been careful not to reveal any of the details of her encounter with Justin, she thought that Lysette had an inkling of how she felt. Lysette was an intuitive woman, but most people were usually too dazzled by her beauty to pay heed to the sharp intelligence behind her pretty face. At the moment Lysette was looking at her with an odd mixture of sympathy and speculation. She squeezed Celia’s hand in a comforting gesture. Celia kept her gaze on Max, wondering if an explosion of anger was forthcoming. “He is in terrible danger, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he’s in danger,” Max said curtly. “The plantation is the only place he is safe. It is known around the Gulf that Legare has offered a fortune to anyone who will bring him Justin’s head in a sack. And my son’s fate will not be much different if he’s caught by the authorities. At the moment I’ve been pressing Governor Villeré to expend some of his political capital on granting a full pardon to him—a damn difficult thing to do when I can’t exactly admit that ‘Philippe’ is Justin! It does not help that Justin has decided to go gallivanting around as Captain Griffin right in the middle of this ungodly mess!”

“Vraiment, do you really think the governor would consider pardoning him?” Celia asked in astonishment.

“I don’t know,” Max muttered. “It’s impossible to predict. If only Claiborne were still in office.”