Beverly Barton - Guarding Jeannie

"He can't hear what he plays. He can't—"

"It defies explanation. Yes, I know. But so does my empathic ability." She looked into Sam's eyes and told him what she wanted. "There is magic on Le Bijou Bleu. It drew Manton here first, and then me. And now…" She did not allow herself to even think about what she knew in her heart, what Sam was not yet ready to accept.

He sensed her need to be in his arms, to move to Manton's mystical music—a twilight solo so utterly beautiful that Sam knew, without question, that the composition had been created for Jeannie.

Julian Howell's Jeannie. Manton's Jeannie. But, above all else, Sam Dundee's Jeannie. For she belonged to him now, and in ways she could never belong to another. This night would seal her fate. She would become his completely.

But not forever. Their affair here on Le Bijou Bleu would be days and nights out of time. He had no right to want or expect more. Jeannie was an ethereal creature, truly pure of heart, never meant to belong to a man whose hands were stained with blood. But he could not deny himself the chance to become her lover, to capture, if for only a brief while, the magic and wonder of possessing an angel.

Sam stood, rounded the table, pulled out Jeannie's chair and lifted her. Shivering with desire and anticipation, she kicked off her white sandals and allowed Sam to lift the soles of her small, delicate feet atop his big feet.

She wanted to dance the way they had the night on the riverboat. But here on the veranda of her home there would be no interruptions, nothing to intrude on the enchantment. They would be free to follow their hearts, to seek the fulfillment their bodies desired. Tonight was theirs.

Sam waltzed her around the veranda. Her skirt flowed in the breeze. They didn't speak aloud, but they communicated their feelings, exchanged their thoughts and shared their mutual desire.

Sam had opened his mind to her, no longer blocking her entrance into his privacy. Jeannie wondered if he had any idea that he had taken the first step in the healing process that could lead to his salvation. Only if he could trust her enough to share his guilt and pain could she help him face his demons and learn to forgive himself.

Did she have the strength and courage to be the woman Sam needed? Could she ever reach that golden core of goodness inside Sam and help him become the man he was meant to be?

The music swirled inside Jeannie's head as she gave herself over to the rhythm and surrendered completely to Sam, trusting him without hesitation. In his arms she took flight, experiencing once again the freedom she would never know without his support.

When Manton stopped playing and quiet descended, Sam led Jeannie back to the table. She retrieved her cane before they left the veranda for a moonlight stroll on the beach behind the cottage.

The new moon glimmered in the black sky, almost translucent in its pale beauty. A scattering of distant stars winked at them. The ocean waves spread their moon-kissed white foam across the beach, then, recalling the tide, washed away their tracks in the sand. Sam supported Jeannie with his arm around her waist as they stood on the beach, the water licking at their legs.

When Jeannie tired, her slow gait hampered by the sand, Sam lifted her in his arms and carried her to the top of the knoll that overlooked the beach where she'd found his nearly lifeless body six years ago. Placing her on the ground, he sat beside her and pulled her close. She laid her head on his shoulder.

Words were unnecessary. Each knew what the other thought and felt. Sam could not deny how he felt about Jeannie, how desperately he wanted her, how much a part of him she had become.

They sat on the knoll, their damp legs entwined, holding hands and listening to the ocean's gentle rumble as they looked at the night sky.

Then Sam turned to her, cupped her face with both hands and whispered her name aloud. She sighed. A lone teardrop fell from her eye onto his hand.

"It's all right, angel," he said. "This will be a totally new experience for both of us. I have no idea what will happen. The first time for most women is—"

She covered his lips with her index finger. "I'm not like most women. And you, Sam Dundee, are most definitely not like most men."

"I don't want to hurt you." He kissed her tenderly.

"The pain of wanting you without having you is far worse than any pain I'll feel. It will be a pain I'll soon forget in the pleasure that will follow." Curling her arms around his neck, she returned his kiss as their combined emotions began flowing inside her. "Sam?"

He rubbed his hand up and down the side of her thigh, bunching the cotton material of her full skirt, lifting it higher and higher with each upward motion. They fell back onto the ground. Lowering his head, Sam kissed the tops of her swollen breasts rounding above the strapless bodice of her sundress. He palmed her feminine mound through the silk of her panties. She arched up to meet his touch.

Sam leaned over her, his mouth and hands exploring the woman who lay beneath him. Jeannie. Sweet, beautiful, innocent Jeannie.

She moaned into his mouth when he kissed her again. Clinging to him, whimpering her need, stroking her body against his, she incited him to deepen the kiss. He ripped away the material covering her breasts, then slid his hand inside her panties and delved into her moist, welcoming heat.

Overwhelming desire claimed her. Desire so all-consuming she thought she would die from its intensity. Her desire. And Sam's desire.

Releasing her mouth, he breathed deeply. "Not here. Not on the hard ground, exposed like this. Not our first time."

"Then take me home, Sam. Take me home and make me yours."

With his heartbeat wild, his desire at fever pitch, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the house. He opened the French doors leading from the veranda into her bedroom, walked into the moonlit sanctuary and laid her down on the pure white bed.

Chapter 12

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Moonlight suffused the room, coating the walls with pale luminance, casting a yellow-white glow over the floor and furniture, surrounding Jeannie like a body halo of purity. The summer breeze swept inside through the open windows and French doors, encompassing them in a warm cocoon. The ocean's undulatory melody drifted in on the night air.

Jeannie sat up in the middle of the bed and removed her sundress. Wearing only a pair of pink silk panties, her breasts thrusting forward as she braced the palms of her hands on each side of her hips, she smiled and called his name.

"Sam…"

She was a siren now, an enticing vixen with a woman's needs. And yet she was still an angel, so pure and innocent and compassionate.

Jeannie lay back on the bed, her heartbeat drumming in her ears, as she reached up, inviting Sam into her arms. She burned with a need she had never known before Sam Dundee entered her secure world. He had changed everything. After she saved his life, nothing had ever been the same again. And now that he had returned, possessed with a need to protect her, to care for her, their fate was sealed.

Since the night she had suffered agony for him, they had been partially united, their souls connected by a thin, invisible cord. With each passing day they were together, they became closer, their feelings for each other growing stronger. Tonight they would become one. There could be no going back, only forward, straight ahead into the bonding of their souls.

Sam could remember nothing in his life he'd ever wanted more than he wanted Jeannie. His Jeannie. His sweet, beautiful angel.

With arms uplifted, her face kissed with moonlight, she waited for him. He wanted to rip off his clothes and thrust into her with wild abandon. But Jeannie was no ordinary woman. What was happening between them was special, unique. Something to be experienced fully, savored lovingly. He could not rush their lovemaking. For her, this would be the first time. And it would be a first for him, too. Making love to a woman who could feel his every emotion, who could experience his desire and his pleasure. The very thought of what lay ahead scared him as much as it excited him.