Enticed by Ecstasy (Wicked Treasures) Page 3

  He turned on his heel and walked to his room. Another tub, this one larger, sat by the opened window. He quickly shed his clothes and climbed into the tub, trying his best to ignore his hard cock.

  Next to the tub was a small table where a bottle of port awaited him. He poured himself some of the dark liquid and took a swallow, letting the liquor fill his stomach with warmth.

  It was just what he needed so he could face the night. He drained the glass and poured a second before he turned his gaze out the open window. A half moon hung suspended in the inky sky, casting its light on a few clouds that dared to come near.

  The night was alive with animals hidden by the shadows. Many nights he had sat by the windows and simply listened to the sounds of Africa at night. Of course, there wasn’t a part of the land he didn’t love.

  Channing let the tension ease out of his shoulders. Africa had helped to heal his wounds, both physically and mentally after he left England. Tom Rye had been the one who found him and nursed him through the roughest months of his life. After he had survived, Channing had taken one look at the untamed land and knew he had found his home.

  That had been almost six years ago. Time had a way of moving differently in Africa where few things changed other than the climate.

  For so long he had lived and breathed his plan for revenge. It seemed Destiny had favored him when Abigail Huntington had practically landed in his lap, giving him all he wanted for his retribution.

  But bringing Miss Huntington to his home would change more than his future, of that he was certain.

  * * * *

  Abby wiped her mouth and leaned back in the chair. The meal had been delicious, but then again she had been starving. She wasn’t sure what she ate, and she wasn’t about to ask. It had looked good and smelled good, and it had tasted divine. That was enough for her.

  With her body clean and her stomach full, she found her thoughts turned to her situation. She wasn’t sure what kind of man Channing St. John was. He hadn’t hurt her, though he could have easily let her die many times over.

  He had a deep hatred for her family, that much was clear. But was it her family...or her father? If she had wronged him, he would have said so. She also doubted it was her mother, so that only left her father. Her father wouldn’t stop to help a fallen child to its feet, so the idea of him somehow ruining another person’s life wasn’t so farfetched.

  And in truth, she knew for a fact he had done it once already.

  She found herself more than curious as to how Channing had been hurt. Since she always thought better when she walked, Abby rose and walked from her room. No one stopped her as she opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.

  Her lips parted as she stared at the beauty before her. Through the noises of the animals, she could just make out the sound of a waterfall. Her footsteps were loud on the porch and would most likely draw Channing’s attention, and she wanted to be alone. She walked down the steps from the porch and slowly made her way around the house.

  She made sure to keep between the fires and the house just in case something decided to attack. She couldn’t see the men who had ran out earlier, but she assumed they were near. This was Africa after all.

  Abby leaned back against the house and closed her eyes as the gentle breeze swept over her. It was so calm, so quiet that she could almost hear her heart beating. She had known Africa would be an adventure, she just hadn’t expected to find it so breathtakingly beautiful.

  A shift in the air, a primal feeling that told her she was being stalked caused her eyes to snap open. Just a moment ago she had felt safe, but now there was no denying something was out there watching her, waiting to attack.

  She began to tremble. She knew she needed to flee, but a glance at the front of house told her she’d never make it. It was too far. But she couldn’t stay.

  Abby decided she would move as slowly as she could. She didn’t know if it would work, but running would only make whatever was out there attack that much sooner.

  She only got three steps away when the growl stopped her. Abby slowly turned to find bright yellow eyes glaring menacingly at her. The head of the hyena came out of the darkness and into the faint light of the torch to bare its teeth as it slowly approached her, crouched and ready to spring.

  With her blood now ice in her veins, Abby could only stand frozen in terror. There was no way she was getting away. She wasn’t fooled by thinking there was just one hyena, because they always traveled in packs.

  How many more were out there hunting her? And did she really want to know?

  Abby parted her lips to call out to Channing or anyone who might be listening. The hyena before her growled again. She took a hasty step back, which prompted the animal to take several steps toward her.

  “Don’t move.”

  She drew in a shaky breath at the sound of Channing’s calm voice. The odds had turned in her favor. Or so she thought until three more hyenas moved out of the darkness.

  Abby shifted her back against the house so that none of the animals could attack her from behind, and that’s when she saw Channing out of the corner of her eye. He stood at the edge of the porch, water dripping from his hair to fall on his bare chest.

  She waited for him to tell her what to do or where to run, but he simply stared at them, as if daring the hyenas to approach his home. Abby just wanted inside where there was a wall between her and the predators.

  Of all the foolish things she had done, this was the worst. Walking alone, at night…in Africa.

  As one the four hyenas crouched lower. A scream formed in her throat, and in the next heartbeat, all four animals sprung toward her.

  She raised her arms to cover her face, her body tensed for the impact. But nothing happened. She lowered her arms to find Channing had thrown himself between her and the animals that were now attacking him.

  There was no way his men could reach Channing in time. Abby tried not to panic as she looked for some kind of weapon, anything to get the beasts off him.

  She had never seen someone move as quick or lethally as Channing. It wasn’t until a hyena screamed that she realized he wasn’t without a weapon. She spotted the wicked-looking knife in his hand as the torch light glinted off the steel.

  Despite how well he was doing, Abby wasn’t going to just stand there. And then she saw it through the open window, Channing’s rifle. She scrambled up the steps, tripping along the hem of her gown as she did, and ran through the double doors to his bed where the rifle leaned.

  She had never fired one before and didn’t want to chance hitting Channing. There was a loud thump against the house, and as she ran to the window, Channing was no longer on his feet. She aimed the rifle up in the air before she pulled the trigger. The butt of the weapon slammed into her shoulder with enough force to knock her backwards a few feet and leave her shoulder numb from the impact.

  For a moment, everything stilled and then the hyenas ran off into the night.

  Abby dropped the weapon and lifted her skirts as she rushed out of the house and to Channing. Her heart leaped into her throat when she saw him slumped against the side of the house, blood coating his arms and chest.

  “Channing,” she whispered as she hesitantly touched his face.

  His eyes were closed and his head lolled to the side. “Bloody hell,” she whispered. “Nothing ever prepared me for this.”

  Before she had a chance to call for help, men ran around the house, their rifles raised and shouting. Some had torches as they ran into the night to search out the hyenas while others came toward Channing.

  “What happened?” one of the men asked.

  “He was fighting them,” Abby answered, noting Channing still held the knife in his right hand. “He jumped between me and the hyenas.”

  The man nodded and turned to two others. “Get Master Channing into his room. We need to set up a perimeter.”

  She hastily got out of the way when the men bent and lifted Channing. She followed them into
his room, unsure of what she should do, but unable to stay away. The man saved her life. Again. She couldn’t just leave him, not when he had wounds that needed to be tended.

  Channing’s men left through the double doors, leaving her alone with him. She glanced at the door, but no one came to see to his injuries.

  Abby wiped her hands on her skirts and tucked her still damp hair behind her ears as she sat on the side of the bed. He had a few bite marks, but it was difficult to know with all the blood.

  She spotted a pitcher of water and a bowl on the table by his bed and quickly made use of it. Using a small cloth, she began to wipe away the blood from Channing’s chest and arms.

  Once his wounds were cleaned, she found only a few bite marks that, luckily, didn’t go very deep. Then she got her first good look at his naked chest.

  Her mouth went dry as she gazed at the specimen before her. The light from the candles shed a warm golden glow over his sun-bronzed skin, accentuating each hard line of muscle.

  The urge to touch him, to feel his skin against hers, consumed her. Hesitantly, she reached out and skimmed her fingers along the hard planes and valleys of his chiseled abdomen.

  His skin was warm, inviting. The more she touched, the more she needed to feel him. Her hand glided across his chest and over thick sinew. Every muscle was honed to perfection, giving him a dangerous grace and stunning power.

  The way her body reacted to him astonished her. He could barely stand to look at her, yet she found herself needing him to want her.

  She wasn’t sure what was wrong with her, but there was no denying her attraction. Abby bit her lip as she struggled to get her growing desire under control.

  Carefully, she rose up and checked his head. There was a small bump over his left ear. Somehow he must have hit the corner of the house at just the right angle and it knocked him out.

  His chest rose and fell regularly, so Abby didn’t think the injury was serious. Her gaze moved down his body. What would it feel like to have his hands on her body, cupping her breasts, kissing her skin? A spike of desire shot through her just thinking of his hands on her.

  But she couldn’t have him. He’d made that more than clear by his looks and tone when he spoke to her. She wasn’t happy he was injured, but she was enjoying looking at him freely without feeling his hard, cold eyes on her.

  Abby looked to his face to find a lock of his black hair had fallen over his forehead. She reached up and smoothed it back. And when she lowered her hand, his eyes were open and staring at her.

  She blinked and swallowed nervously. “I’ve cleaned the wounds. They were minimal.”

  When he didn’t speak, Abby became nervous. It was her fault, after all, that he was injured since she had gone walking outside like a ninny.

  “I should’ve stayed in the house. I’m sorry.”

  His coffee-colored eyes, normally so uninviting, caught and held hers. She knew she should leave, but her body refused to listen.

  She sucked in a breath when his gaze lowered to her mouth. Her heart began to pound a low, erratic beat.

  He said not a word as his hands lifted to her arms. To her surprise, he began to slowly pull her down atop him. Abby flattened her hands on his chest in an effort to hold herself up. She wasn’t entirely sure what Channing was about, but the way his eyes sizzled with an undercurrent of emotion, she wanted to find out.

  Abby’s breathing quickened when his hand moved up to cup her neck and his mouth was just inches away.

  “Abigail,” he whispered seductively.

  Chapter Five

  The overwhelming hunger and uncontrollable desire pumping through Channing refused to be ignored. The intensity of his need surprised him. No one since his beloved Rebecca had caused his body to stir so.

  For years he’d forgone any entanglements with women, instead seeking to pay when his body demanded release.

  But now...now everything was different. Because of Abigail.

  When he had seen her walk past his window, sheer terror had propelled him out of his bath. He had forgotten to tell her to stay inside the house because he’d been blinded by lust when she had dared to disrobe in front of him.

  By the time he reached the porch, the hyenas had made themselves known, leaving him little time to get Abigail to safety.

  For an instant, he thought he might not be able to save her. When they had attacked, the animals had been a blur. He hadn’t been thinking when he leapt between them and Abigail, but at least it had saved her life. A few minor cuts and bruises were part of his daily life anyway.

  But finding her sitting next to him, her hot gaze looking her fill while her hands touched him, had been his breaking point. He could deny his need for her no more than he could send her away.

  Her wavy blonde hair hung loose, daring him to feel its silkiness. Channing didn’t hesitate in threading his fingers through the thick gold locks.

  His gaze focused on her tempting lips as he lowered her head to his. He leaned up and brushed his mouth against hers. The small contact left him breathless and aching – desperately – for more.

  Both of his hands held her head as he sat up and kissed her again, letting his tongue glide over her lips. She moaned softly, sending a bolt of desire straight to his cock, now fully aroused.

  He needed to taste more of her, know more of her. When she didn’t immediately part her lips for his tongue, Channing gently tugged on her chin. As soon as her mouth opened, his tongue swept inside, tangling with hers.

  She gave a sound similar to a purr and wrapped her arms around his neck. The taste of her only spurred his desire, urging him to take more of her.

  And Channing was weak to resist the call of his body.

  He wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her hard against him, molding her soft, sweet curves to his chest. Still it wasn’t enough. His body demanded more.

  Channing turned and pushed her onto the bed, never breaking the kiss. Now that she was lying on her back, his hands were free to roam over her enticing body.

  His hand caressed down her side through her thin nightgown to her waist, and then the curve of her hip, before stopping at her thigh. He waited for her to tell him to stop, to jump from the bed and slap him.

  Instead, she returned his kisses with as much abandon as he had given. Perhaps more.

  He was pleasantly stunned by the passion raging just beneath the surface of Abigail Huntington. And he wanted to see more of it.

  Could she feel the connection between them, the attraction that even hatred and revenge couldn’t overcome? Channing refused to think of the past or of his vengeance while Abigail was in his arms.

  He broke the kiss and looked down at her swollen lips and powder-blue eyes darkened with desire. She had tempted him earlier at her bath. Now, he would seduce her with pleasure that would leave her moaning his name.

  Her chest rose and fell rapidly, drawing his gaze to her full breasts. But they were hidden, giving him just a tease of a hardened nipple.

  He rolled from the bed and pulled her to stand beside him. Then he raised her arms above her head before giving her a quick, hard kiss. Only then did he bend down and begin to gather her nightgown in his hands. He then slowly, deliberately eased the material to her hips.

  And paused.

  The pulse at her throat was erratic. She leaned toward him, her face lifted for a kiss. Channing’s body burned for her, the daughter of his sworn enemy. The irony of it all didn’t go unnoticed by him.

  Yet, it didn’t seem to matter with the hunger for Abigail that scorched through his body. There was nothing and no one except Abigail.

  His hands began to shake as need swelled. He couldn’t tease her anymore. With one jerk, he had the nightgown over her head and tossed it aside.

  His breath lodged in his throat as he gazed at the woman before him. She stood as still as a statue, her gaze pinned to him. Her lips were parted, patiently waiting.

  But he feared he’d never get enough of looking his fill o
f her. She was exquisite. Her alabaster skin was flawless except for a small mole on her right shoulder. She had small, pert breasts, a narrow waist and long, lean legs he couldn’t wait to have wrapped around him. Her sex was hidden by a patch of golden curls that beckoned him.

  His cock stirred at the thought of touching her, tasting her. It was as if he had finally come alive after centuries of sleeping.

  He pulled her into his arms to kiss her once again. Her lips eagerly accepted his kiss as her nipples, already pebbled, brushed against his chest.

  To his surprise, her hands went to the waist of his trousers. A smile pulled at his lips at her eagerness. He easily unfastened his pants and let them fall to the floor.

  He didn’t stop her when she stepped back to look at him. No one since Rebecca had wanted to see his body. Until now.

  As her gaze centered on his cock, he nearly went up in flames at the small smile that played about her lips. Desire pumped viciously through him, and at the state he was in, he wouldn’t last long at all.

  With the last of his patience evaporating, Channing jerked her against him before claiming her mouth in a brutal kiss meant to frighten her into leaving. He didn’t like how she made him feel, what she made him long for.

  He was supposed to use her, and instead he wanted to fill her body with him, to see her face when she peaked. Channing wanted to spend hours learning her body and kissing every inch of her.

  But she didn’t leave. A groan ripped from him when her hands plunged into his hair and she accepted his kiss as if she’d waited a lifetime for it.

  Abby felt herself being lowered onto the bed, but all she cared about was Channing touching her. His kiss had scorched her, inflaming her already growing desire until she could think of nothing but him.

  His mouth traveled across her cheek to her ear where he teased her lobe with his tongue. Abby gasped when his hands cupped her breasts and gently rolled them. She bit her lip when her breasts swelled and heard herself moan as he thumbed her nipples.