Elizabeth’s tension eased. The worst was over. She had told him the truth and he no longer looked at her as though she was tainted.
“Has my wife spoken to you?”
“She is sad and I feel her guilt.”
“Sad? Sad?” He took a quick breath. “There are no words to describe the black gaping hole she left in my life” His hand balled into a fist. “And let her stew in her guilt! I regret making her acquaintance.” His voice stern, no vestige of sympathy could be heard in its hardness.
Elizabeth chewed her lip. “You do not love her?”
“Nay.” He shook his head and Elizabeth felt a moment of hope surge through her heart.
A muscle quivered at his jaw. “Yes.” His gaze dropped, then lifted. “Once.”
“What came to pass betwixt the two of you?”
He cursorily studied the grass at his feet. “This gift of sight, does it foretell only the future or the past as well?”
For a long moment, she starred at the sky beyond his shoulder. “Bits and pieces. Broken fragments of events to be, or that have passed.” She glanced back at him. “Tell me, what happened?”
“You claim to see into others lives, tell me.” His blue eyes narrowed.
She flinched.
He placed his hand on her arm. “I beg forgiveness. I did not mean to raise my voice in anger.” His hand dropped to his side and he stared blankly, pensive, silent. “She betrayed me with another.”
The words so softly spoken, she wasn’t sure she had heard correctly. But when she looked into his eyes, she saw his pain.
“Please pardon my inquisitiveness. I did not know.” Embarrassment warmed her cheeks.
“I loved her, ‘tis true…” He raked his hair with both hands, “but I now realize there was so much discontent--”
“True love is not a worrisome of the heart, ‘tis a completion of soul…” Had she not read that somewhere? “A place of comfort your heart can reside in,” Elizabeth added. Would his heart have room for her?
“Let us not talk of Rebecca.”
“Of Katherine then?” The words broke forth before her mind had time think on their consequence.
“Katherine?” He stared, dumbfounded. “How do you come by her name? A vision?”
Elizabeth smiled. At least he was starting to believe her. “She paid me a visit yesterday.” Just thinking about that woman, increased the tempo of her heart, struck her emotional turmoil like a hammered harpsichord key. “If you detest liars so much, why is it you failed to mention your betrothed?”
“Katherine? Betrothed? Never.”
“She said--”
“More lies.” He smiled and crossed his arms at his chest. “Why you are jealous.” Amusement lit his face.
“Nay!” She shook her head. Her cheeks warmed.
He caught her chin between his fingers. “‘Tis you who interests me.”
Caught off guard by his words and the sudden closeness of his body, her breath lodged in her throat.
Desire shone in his intense eyes. “Never Katherine,” he whispered.
Her pulse quickened. He radiated a vitality that drew her to him like a string to a bow. His steady gaze bore into her, in silent expectation. Fighting the overwhelming need to wrap her arms around him, she stepped back. “There is something I must tell--”
“No more talk.” He moved closer.
She had to tell him about her guardian, or Katherine would. “But--”
He placed his finger over her mouth. “Shss.”His gaze roved over her seductively. Her heart turned over in response.
“Please…I must…” she murmured beneath his touch.
He stepped closer still, his thigh against her thigh, his breath mingling with hers. “As a gentleman I ask you grant me this kiss.” His warm lips brushed against hers as he spoke. “Please. Mistress Elizabeth, beautiful Elizabeth, let me kiss you.”
The straightforward question made her flush, sway closer to him. A part of her wanted, begged him to continue, the other, pleaded he stop; they needed to talk.
She studied the ground as her mind dimly realized this was what she longed for— to feel him close to her beating heart—to hear his whispered words of love— to know the feel of a man’s touch.
He reached out and hooked a finger beneath her chin, demanding she look at him.
This time… this time his kisses will lead to more than just kisses…
“Beautiful Elizabeth…” He sighed. “You know there is no need--”
“Perhaps we should-”
“I will not hurt you. Not like he did.”
Surprise siphoned the blood from her cheeks. Philip’s words roared in her ears. He knew. Dear Lord.
She pulled away. “I don’t under--”
“Mary.”
Embarrassed, tears welled in her eyes.
“Do not cry. Please--” his dark husky voice cracked with anguish, “do not. It brings me no peace to see such pain in your heart.” His handsome face crumbled with anxiety. “She thought it best I knew.”
He ran his finger across her jaw, igniting the growing fire, centering in her belly, anxiety, desire, she wasn’t sure which.
“She was concerned I woo you with great care. Not all men are bastards.” He drew her close to his chest.
His breath fanned her face sensually warm.
“Let me show you how a man’s touch can be gentle, wondrous…”
It wasn’t proper, this desire to wrap her arms around him, doing so would only encourage him.
His lips brushed hers, as light as a feather, a delicious tingling sensation that broke her resistance.
“Let me bring you to a place of beauty,” he whispered near her ear.”Let me bestow upon you the freedom from your past.”
Their lips met—fire against ice—breath against breathless—desire against trepidation. He drew her close, nuzzled her neck, buried his face in her hair and she could feel his body pressed up against her, hard, urgent, needing hers. Blood pounded in her brain. Though her body responded with a heated gush, her knees trembled with unease and she shuddered.
He drew back. His gaze caressed her and she knew he sensed her trepidation. Then slow, thoughtful, the tip of his tongue urged her to open to him. The moist fullness of his kiss, exploring the recesses of her mouth, sang through her brain and clouded her thoughts. Her heart raced and her lips quivered at the sweet tenderness of his touch.
“Elizabeth…”
The sound of her name murmured through his breathless lips pushed her senses further; spun her thoughts, swept any apprehensions on a swift current of surging blood. Nothing had prepared her for this intense, urgent unabashed yearning so strong, so overwhelmingly different from her response to his kisses in the past.
She was vaguely aware that his hand slid up and down her back and his heartbeat matched the fast rhythm of hers. She knew, if she dare look, his arousal would strain through his breeches and the thought, to her surprise, flared a quaking gush between her thighs.
Succumbing to the savage harmony coursing through her veins, Elizabeth pushed all concerns aside and returned Philip’s kiss passionately, wholeheartedly.
***
Whatever fears of men, of him, Elizabeth harbored, ‘twas not evident in her kisses and her eager response sent Philip’s already torrid body ablaze.
The need to crush her to his chest and feel her heart beat against his, skin to skin, flesh against flesh, fogged his brain, obliterating all thoughts of reason. But he forced himself to slow down.
Breathless, their lips parted. Their eyes locked. A rush of pink stained her cheeks as he studied her closely and seeing only desire shining in the depths of her eyes, he swooped her up into his arms and held her snugly.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and toyed with the downy hairs on the nape of his neck, sending a tightening in his gut.
In a secluded spot, beneath the shade of a large oak, he knelt and gently laid her on the ground, cradling her head with his hand.
Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek. Her uneven breath fanned his face.
“I have lost all coherent thoughts, save one —you,” he whispered.
As their lips met, his heart raced, thundering in his ears. He kissed her hungrily. Wanting to taste her sweetness deep within him, he brought her closer, gently crushing her to his chest. But the urgency in his kiss reminded him of her fragile state of mind.
He broke away and inhaled the clean scent of hair, reveled in its silken texture as he wrapped his fingers between the silver strands.
The longing he saw shining in her golden green-flecked eyes sent a surge of blood that tightened his loins and reminded him to be cautious.
Slowly he nibbled on her neck and to his delight he heard her groan. Gently he eased her back to the ground and lay beside her.
Mary’s words ran through his brain. “‘Twas no gentlemanly act bestowed upon her person.” He remembered them well. “Heathen swine.”
He had to make Elizabeth want him.
He reached over and ran a finger over the creamy swell of her breasts. Her eyes closed, other than the quick rise and fall of her bosom she didn’t move.
“Elizabeth look at me,” he ordered softly. “I won’t hurt you.”
Pleased when she obeyed his command, he smiled down at her.
“Compromised her, he did, poor lass. Ye best keep that in mind,” Mary had said.
That she was no virgin mattered not. Today he would be her first. He would make her forget.
God’s bones, he was nervous. That she might bolt from his touch at any given time—with any wrong move…
Again, he searched her face.
Encouraged by the eager longing he saw, he ran his finger slowly over where he knew the bud of her breast lay hidden beneath yards of fabric. When she didn’t flinch, he unlaced the bodice of her gown, while watching her reaction. A flicker of apprehension flashed across her eyes.
“When I first beheld you lying in the woods…”
Perhaps his words would calm her.
The front of her dress fell open.
She reached out.
He caught her hand.
“… I thought you the most enchanting of creatures.”
“Hardly so. My dress torn and covered in--”
He brought her fingers to his lips, and ran his tongue over one, catching the tip between his teeth.
He heard her quick intake of breath.
“Mud.” She swallowed the word with a gasp of delight.
“Even covered in mud you still shone as bright as any star.” He smiled. Though he detected a slight tremble to her fingers, an ethereal, calmness unveiled upon her face.
Ever so slowly, he moved his hand up to the top of her bodice to the material’s edge then he stopped.
Her breasts rose and fell rapidly.
Through her chemise, he rubbed the tip of her breast till the sweet rosy tip grew hard and poked against the fabric.
Her eyes widened. Her chest heaved. But she didn’t push him away.
His breath, uneven, he swallowed with anticipation, then eased his fingers beneath her gown.
She tensed.
He hesitated. “I will bring you pleasure, if you but let me.”
The truth of his words quelled his own physical need, as a deeper desire began to take hold; one of protectiveness and safekeeping.
As her magical herbs had healed his arm, so he would be the medicine to heal her spirit. Though he knew naught the name of the man responsible for her nightmares, the anger he felt over her attack bridled his pleasure.
She chewed her lower lip and he wondered what she thought.
When she reached up, and encircled her arms around his neck, he almost forgot to breathe.
He positioned himself over her, straddling her hips, careful not to crush her beneath his weight.
Slow. Slow and easy, he reminded himself as his hand lingered between the swell of her bosom.
That her innocence had been robbed ate at his gut.
Patience.
Slowly he eased his fingers from her cleavage and gently pushed her breast free of the fabric that blocked his vision. Before she could react to the cool air, he brought his mouth to her rosy bud and sucked.
She gasped and struggled to rise.
Immediately he stopped and looked down at her. “Say the word and I shall yield to your wishes.” He stared deeply into her eyes, willing her not to turn him away; seeing only desire.
She arched upward and kissed him.
As he aroused her passion, his grew stronger. A hunger welled in him—a deep hunger that drew from too many years of living like a recluse.
His torrid loins screamed for release, but he focused his attention on her; Elizabeth, the enchantment of his desires. The deep-rooted ache he felt ‘twas more than lustful wanting, his soul for the first time, in a very long time, felt as though it found a safe haven.
Remembering her words that love was a place of comfort your heart can reside in, he suddenly felt ill at ease. Had he put the past behind him? Could he ever love again? The memory of his wife’s deceit still burned in his mind. She had found solace in another man’s arms.
A clammy, moisture dotted his brow.
Could he really make this scarred woman forget the horror she had endured, when he could not put his demons to rest?
His love had not been strong enough to help Rebecca.
He swallowed dryly.
Was this love?
Chapter Eighteen
She should tell him to stop. Just stop. But the word wouldn’t form in her throat.
It took her dazed mind a few moments to realize he had indeed stopped his ravenous trek across her body and she stared up at him, wondering why?
His eyes had a glazed almost agonizing glare to them as he stared into the far distance.
Apprehension churned in her chest. What did he think of her? Did he think her a loose woman? Did thoughts of her brazen wanton actions shock him to the point that he could not look at her?
In the blue depths of his eyes, compassion and unease shone. But before she could question him, he captured her mouth with his. His tongue darted in and out… round and round blending with hers; exploring the recesses of her mouth with a hungry ardor that flooded her entire being with warmth.
Her heart danced. Her fingers dug into the coarse grass.
He slipped her other breast free. The cool air hardened one nipple. His tongue hardened the other. He broke away.
Their gazes met and the passion she saw in the depths of his clear blue eyes wrapped her in a blanket of warmth.
Never in her wildest dreams could she have known this pleasure. Never in her wildest dreams had she foreseen this day.
She studied his lean dark sun kissed face, his straight nose and strong jaw, noticed how the sunlight played upon his raven hair. A few tresses fell across his brow. She reached up and ran her fingers across his forehead.
Leaning back on his haunches, his gaze sealed on hers, he reached for her waist. With nimble fingers, he untied the knot that held her skirt in place.
Stop him, her mind shouted.
With shaking fingers, she pulled on the string.
His eyes lit as he slipped the skirt down her hips, her legs, then ever so slowly down her ankles. With one final tug, she was free of her gown. She closed her eyes.
Leaning over her, his groin pressed into her hip. She could feel his hardness against her. A pang of anxiety stabbed her chest.
As though sensing her fear, he angled his body away from her, kissed her neck, ran his fingers through her hair and nibbled on her ear.
He broke away and rubbed her ankles. The circular motion sent a tingle up her spine.
Beneath her chemise, his fingers crept toward the top of her stockings. Her under-petticoat inched higher.
A breath of cool breeze caressed her bare skin.
Her eyes snapped open; her
breath, stood still as a throbbing need built within her.
At the junction of her thighs, he hesitated, staring at her. The pulse in his neck throbbed with fast anticipation —as did hers.
His fingers touched her bare flesh.
She gasped. Her lids dropped; her body tingled.
On the outer rim of her womanhood, his deft fingers skillfully played. Teasing fingers—round and round.
A flush of heat surged up her legs and crept up toward her neck. A moan broke from her lips. She writhed beneath him. Building warmth spread its gripping fingers, igniting her body, igniting her mind, raising her higher and higher. Again, she groaned.
Easing her legs open, he positioned himself at the crux of her thighs, then brought his mouth to her womanhood. As his tongue probed in and out, waves of ecstasy throbbed through her. Her toes curled.
After a long moment, he maneuvered himself up, till his chest pressed into hers and his manhood pressed deeply through the fabric of her chemise. She tasted the scent of her essence on her tongue when he kissed her-an erotic sense that unfurled her desires to a higher pitch. Blood pounded in her brain, spinning her mind like a child’s toy top. His heart raced against hers.
Hungrily he kissed her mouth. Their tongues blended and explored. Breathless they drew apart.
She reached out and laid her hand against his heart feeling the fast tempo beneath her palm. Desire, a strong deep wanting to feel his flesh against her flesh prompted her to drop her hand, raise her other and bring it to top of his breeches. She gave his shirt a tug. The fabric slipped from his pants.
His eyes widened with surprise; darkened with passion. Quickly he raised himself off her. Hooking his knees around her hips, he sat. His movements hurried, excited, he drew his shirt over his head and threw it to the ground. Before she could take another breath, he was upon her. The coarse black hairs of his chest rubbed against her breasts as she withered beneath him.
He wrapped his fingers through her hair, kissed the top of her brow, the top of her lids, her nose.
Wild—out of control, her lips sought his, her fingers raked his back.
The fluttering in her stomach raced at an overtime beat just to keep up with the fast rhythm of her heart.
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