Passion's Furies, page 5
“Ah, what a vision,” Jason drawled, watching his daughter wolfing down the food. “I take this to mean your meeting did not offer rations last evening?”
Jacinta swallowed before placing her fork on the bread plate. Keeping her gaze downcast, she dabbed the corner of her mouth with a white linen napkin. “I respect you, Poppa, but I have to say that your teasing manner toward something so important is completely unfair.”
“From what I understand there’s been nothing more than talk about this for years now.”
Silence followed Solomon’s comment. Jacinta leaned back against her chair and regarded him with a stony gaze. She watched as he filled his plate at the buffet, her eyes scanning the breadth of his wide shoulders and back. The expensive cut of his deep beige suit coat and trousers flattered both his physique and complexion. “From what you…understand?” she inquired when he took a seat directly across from her. “And you’ve been in Charleston all of one day, is that correct, sir?”
“Jacinta!”
“She is correct, sir,” Solomon confirmed slowly, raising his hand towards Jason. “However, Miss McIver, I do believe that proves my point. There has been an abundance of talk,” he reiterated, his dark gaze never wavering from her brown one.
Jason burst into laughter upon seeing Jacinta open her mouth for a retort and then close it as though she could think of nothing to say. “’Tis a rare occasion to see my Jaci speechless!” he bellowed.
Jacinta was speechless more from outrage than embarrassment. Her hands clenched within the folds of her tanned dress with its ruffled white neckline. “May I be excused?” she whispered, already pushing his chair away from the table.
“You may,” Jason granted amidst his chuckles. “But Jaci,” he called, tapping his fingers against the lavender tablecloth, “you are to remain inside the house today. Is that clear?”
Jacinta’s chest heaved and her maple gaze grew stormy at once.
“The lash is primed and ready,” Jason warned when her lips parted to argue.
Refusing to allow her father’s intriguing guest to see her riled yet again, Jacinta forced a sweet smile to her lips. “Actually, Poppa, I had already planned to spend the day inside. It looks very rainy and I would assume very chilly outdoors,” she explained, before nodding once. “Good day, Poppa…Mr. Dikembe,” she called as though it were an afterthought.
Jason slapped his hand to the table when Jacinta departed. The delicate dishes and silverware jumped at the gesture. “Headstrong, eh?” he asked Solomon, hearty laughter coloring the question. “And you are certain there’s nothing more you’d care to add to my daughter’s list of…attributes?” he teased.
Solomon’s bottomless ebony stare remained focused on the maple wood door, still swinging in the wake of Jacinta’s exit. “She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
Expecting some witty reply or a round of boisterous laughter, Jason was stunned. His comical expression faded as he appeared intrigued, then thoughtful. The intensity of his light brown gaze didn’t go unnoticed by Solomon, who smiled and set his napkin onto the dining table.
“I apologize if the comment seemed ill-mannered,” Solomon spoke after a few silent moments.
Jason shook his head slowly, still taken aback by Solomon’s candor. “Not at all, son. You have just paid a very high compliment to my daughter. I don’t find such a thing ill-mannered in the least.”
Solomon nodded once, then turned his attention towards the delectable breakfast before him.
Meanwhile, Jason was still in a state of concentration. For years, he had prayed for a time such as this. His daughter would be nineteen soon—far beyond the age when most young women were married with families of their own. Jason was determined to see his daughter living that life. Of course, it had been no great hardship attracting interested candidates. Jacinta was indeed a ravishing beauty, and he’d had offers from both black and white suitors.
While the later only lusted after her beauty and physical endowments, the former saw a smart, beautiful woman capable of producing and raising smart, strong handsome sons. Jason would never entertain the thought of linking his only daughter to a white man. Still, he could not see himself linking her to one of his own kind, either. At least, not one who resided in Charleston-or any place where slavery reigned supreme. Jason wanted his daughter far away in a world where she could live like the queen he’d always treated her. He wanted her to see more of the world than the tears, bloodshed and death that met her eyes the moment she left the protective walls of the estate. He looked back at Solomon. Yes, this was the young man, he thought. He would spend his life making her happy and he would give his life to protect her.
Solomon was in the process of slicing into another portion of the flavorful sausage when he took note of Jason’s quiet. “Are you all right, sir?” he asked, his sleek black brows drawn close in concern.
Jason shook off his musings and favored Solomon with a cool grin. “Just recalling some unfinished business I should handle. We’ll meet for lunch in the sitting room. Have one of the maids show you where it is.”
“If it’s all the same, Sir, I’d more enjoy finding it on my own. It’ll give me the chance to study the artwork I noticed when I arrived.”
“Perfectly all right, Son,” Jason said as he stood from the table. “Enjoy the rest of your meal and we’ll talk during lunch.” He patted Solomon’s shoulder on his way out of the room.
* * *
No one, save Jason McIver and the field men, ventured outside McIver Estate on that day. It rained incessantly and the temperature had dropped well past “chilly” to downright cold.
After breakfast, Solomon finished a few correspondences and then took a leisurely walk around the breathtaking mansion. He realized it would take some time to completely tour the home. Still, Solomon was impressed by all he had seen. He decided to make a point of learning how Jason McIver had acquired and maintained such a dwelling in the midst of such intolerance for black success.
He had never seen such exquisite artistry in one place. From the tapestries of the Charleston Harbor and sunsets off the coast of the sea islands, to the masks and statues with their obvious Gullah overtones, Jason McIver was a man proud of his homeland and his heritage.
Solomon’s walk led him through several rooms, each one decorated by breathtaking artwork and impressive furniture. The paintings along the corridor leading to the library and music room held his attention for countless minutes. Clearly, the vibrant creations had been inspired by a person of African descent. The artist’s love for the subjects within the bronzed frames was quite evident. It took Solomon close to two hours to travel that corridor. He became lost in the abundance of beauty as his soulful black eyes devoured every detail of the work. He was just entering the sitting room as the lunch hour approached.
The room’s tall windows were left devoid of draperies to allow sunlight to filter the area. Due to the dreariness of the day, the room was lit by firelight from its multitude of oil lamps and the snapping flames from the stone hearth. Solomon took a moment to study the wet landscape, which appeared gray and lifeless beneath the dark storm clouds. Barely two minutes had passed before he realized he was not alone.
Jacinta had obviously ventured to the room to do some writing; her pads and other utensils were strewn on one of the round, three-legged cherry wood tables. She had fallen asleep in one of the large, hunter green armchairs. Solomon’s handsome features were set in an intent manner as he watched her slumber. His deep, piercing stare memorized her sweet, chocolate face relaxed in sleep. The soft downward pout of her slightly parted lips seemed to beckon his kiss.
Solomon grunted and turned away to massage the bridge of his nose. He squeezed his eyes shut, tight, to ward off the ache of his loins tightening in response to the voluptuous vision in his presence. Choosing to direct his attention elsewhere, he focused on a small journal nestled between Jacinta’s prone form and the arm of the chair. Gently, he extracted the book from its position.
He began to read. The smile tugging the curve of his mouth indicated his expectation to view some lighthearted piece of fluff. That easy smile, however, faded as his eyes traveled further down the page. The passages, written in Jacinta’s elegant script, were, at times, humorous, comforting and unsettling. Solomon’s fist clenched more than once as he read through the journal. Jacinta had managed to capture the spirit and the burden of the life of slavery and all its consequences.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Solomon continued to read, massaging his hair-roughened jaw as he paced the heavy black rug beneath his feet. Upon completing the passage, he turned towards her. Jacinta was awake and watching him with her property.
“I’m reading your work,” he replied, slapping the book against the palm of his hand. “This is quite good.”
Jacinta steeled herself against the feeling of pride washing over her. “I don’t recall seeking your opinion, sir,” she whispered.
Solomon shrugged. “Neither do I.”
“Well?” She set her fists against her slender hips when he only watched her expectantly. “Will you please return that?” she hissed.
Instead, Solomon turned away once more with the book in his hand. “This is very good. You have a vivid imagination,” he said, intentionally goading her.
Slowly, Jacinta stood from the deep armchair. “You horse’s ass. Every word in that book is true. They are the thoughts of real people—slaves.”
Solomon knew as much and was even more impressed by her interest in such a topic. “An interesting fascination for a young woman such as yourself.”
“Fascination?” Jacinta repeated the word as though it were foul. “You think hearing stories of unimaginable cruelty fascinating? I can’t count the nights I’ve cried while writing those very words you find so amusing.”
“I never said I found them amusing,” Solomon clarified, regretting that he had teased her so. “Still, I find it very odd that you would take such an interest in this.”
Jacinta’s luminous gaze narrowed sharply and Solomon held his breath. If possible, her reaction made her appear even more beautiful.
“Why would you find it odd?” she inquired, unaware of how she was affecting Solomon.
He simply thumbed through the book and strolled the spacious room. “Most young women raised as you’ve been, sheltered, pampered—”
“How dare—”
“Educated, but still spoiled, I’d think you’d be interested in something more tame, perhaps. The theatre, creating the nicest garden, how to be a gracious hostess…”
“Bastard!” Jacinta spat, closing the distance between them. “You know nothing about me, yet you’ve done nothing but try to belittle me since you’ve been here.”
Solomon chuckled, sparking the lone dimple to splice his cheek. His gorgeous gaze narrowed almost to the point of closing and he appeared completely charming and roguish at once. “It has not been my intention to do so, Miss McIver.”
“Yet you’ve done it quite well,” she retorted, while extending her hand. “I’ll take my property now.”
“For a kiss,” Solomon bartered without hesitation.
Jacinta closed her eyes for a second or two, then shook her head. “Beg pardon?”
Solomon behaved as though his request were nothing out of the ordinary. “Your property returned for a kiss.”
“You can’t be serious?”
Solomon perched on the corner of a windowsill. “I’m always serious when enjoyment is at stake.”
Jacinta backed away, allowing more distance between them as the shivers along her spine grew more persistent. “My father is conducting business with you because he believes you are decent and forthright.”
“But you know better?”
“I do.”
“Well then?”
Jacinta lost her temper then. Forgetting the fact that this man unsettled her as no other, she charged for him. Prepared to do battle for her property and her pride, she was determined to slap the confident smirk from his handsome face.
Jacinta’s fit of rage was met by Solomon’s soft laughter. He held her at bay easily, his large hands encircling her wrists while he held her arms away from her body. His mesmerizing gaze caressed her face with a lover’s gentleness before it lowered to appreciate the sight of her heaving bosom.
“Such unnecessary exertion,” he commented, looking on as her rapid breathing threatened to force her breasts past the confines of the lacy, scooped neckline of the gown that had teased him all during breakfast. “A simple kiss won’t take nearly as much out of you,” he concluded.
Jacinta strained against his hold about her wrists. “Surely you don’t make a practice of resorting to such tactics to obtain kisses from helpless women?” she shuddered.
“I don’t,” he conceded, tightening his hold on her wrists to draw her closer. “But, love, I don’t usually encounter such beauties as yourself, and you are certainly no helpless lady.”
Jacinta’s lashes fluttered in rapid succession as her chocolate stare searched his dark one for some clue about his true intentions. “How do I know I can trust you?” she asked in a tiny voice. The wolfish grin she received in response was answer enough.
“You don’t know that.”
Jacinta expelled a sigh of desperation and defeat. “Just get it over with,” she commanded, praying for some interruption.
Of course she’d expected something brutal and nauseating. Her lashes fluttered closed over her eyes in a resigned fashion. Solomon’s smile was sweetness and wonder personified as his midnight stare trailed the curving loveliness of her doll face. He took both her wrists in one hand and removed what little distance remained between them.
Jacinta sensed his face close to hers and squeezed her eyes shut tight in expectation. The kiss, however, was not what she’d anticipated. It was unhurried and deliberate. Solomon simply traced the supple curve of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. Then, his lips placed whisper soft kisses to each corner of her mouth before his tongue once again outlined its shape. Jacinta thought she felt a moan rising deep within her throat, but that was impossible. After all, this man she barely knew couldn’t possibly wield such power over her, could he?
When Solomon applied a bit more pressure with his tongue, Jacinta’s lips parted. He didn’t invade her mouth greedily, as he wanted to. Moreover, he teased the dark, fragrant cavern with brief, darting strokes. Unconsciously, Jacinta responded, growing eager for the kiss and praying he would cease his teasing. Her prayers were answered when the final teasing stroke was followed by a leisurely thrust that forced the moan past her lips. Jacinta had no time to be preoccupied by the sound, though. She was far too enthralled by the possessiveness of his kiss. The slow thrusts of his tongue filled her mouth with a myriad of sensations. Solomon’s kiss caressed and explored as it left her aroused and gasping her pleasure.
“Your property is on the sill,” he spoke against her ear, pressing a kiss to the lobe before releasing her wrists and pulling back. He found that her eyes were still closed, her head still tilted back in anticipation of more.
Jacinta opened her eyes to find Solomon strolling towards the double doors of the sitting room. She pressed five shaking fingers against her mouth and could feel her lips throbbing from the kisses. Once again, her lengthy lashes fluttered in response to the sensations he had stirred someplace deep and unthinkable.
CHAPTER 5
“And you’re this certain after knowing the man one day?”
Jason chuckled over his friend’s concern. Scurvy Logan had been both friend and advisor to him since the days when they’d been young men hoping to change the world. Then, the heaviest topic on Jason’s mind was how to court Pauletta Lichens, his future wife. Scurvy, of course, had been there offering his advice even then.
“I’m pleased by the way he handles her. She’s so quick, but when he speaks he catches her off guard, and I know it has her intrigued.”
“But intrigued enough to marry?” Scurvy inquired, leaning forward to pin Jason with a doubtful stare.
Jason acknowledged that improbability with a shrug. “Perhaps. I like him, and I think they’ll make a fine match,” he decided.
“Mmm…but will she?”
“Bah!” Jason scoffed with a quick wave. “She doesn’t have to love him right away, but I wager that she will in time. Besides, the girl needs someone to take charge of her—to keep her from bringing harm to herself.”
Scurvy was still unconvinced. “He must be quite a young man.”
“You’ll meet him at dinner this evening.”
“And what of Jacinta?” Scurvy inquired, standing to fill a large white China cup with coffee. “Has she said or done anything to give you cause to believe she has any feelings for this boy?”
“Nothing’s happened yet, but I know this is the man who will take my daughter out of Charleston. He is the one she should begin her adult life with.”
Now Scurvy was more than doubtful, he was suspicious. “I sense an urgency in you, friend,” he whispered, his long, dark face appearing more stern as he regarded Jason. “Are you sure there is nothing more going on here?”
Jason passed his cup to Scurvy and watched him refill it with the fragrant coffee. “Nothing more?”
“You’re not being threatened, are you?” Scurvy knew the jealousy and hatred that was directed toward Jason and his success.
“No, no nothing like that,” Jason was quick to correct.
Scurvy’s round, brown stare still harbored concern. “You know if things are…unsettled we can always contact Mr. McIver.”
“I’m well aware of that, but I’ll not seek that sort of help until it is absolutely necessary. I assure you, my friend, that I’m not being threatened just now,” Jason said to Scurvy, a smug smile warming his kind face.
Scurvy seemed convinced. “If you say so, my friend.”
