Christopher waved his brother off and returned to stare at the pages before him. He had let his fear of rejection rule him for days, preventing him from seeing the woman he loved. It was possible Emma, regardless if she loved him or not, would let her worries about leaving her family prevent her from agreeing to accompany him.
He would miss the birth of Landon and Bronwyn’s firstborn. Drumming his fingers upon his desk, he waited for more depressing thoughts to come. Instead, images of Emma, pregnant and smiling, filled his mind. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and fingered the posy ring that had remained close to his heart. The ring should be settled upon Emma’s finger. He’d rectify that tonight.
Reordering the files on his desk into alphabetical order, the question of what had kept Emma preoccupied for days kept poking at his mind. Rather than hypothesizing, he needed to go to her. The last folder remaining was the one that contained the carefully crafted list of Network members that he and Landon had selected to relocate to the New World. Christopher opened the file and examined the list once more. The decision upon which members to send to America had taken an extraordinary amount of time and a fair amount of consideration. Families would be disbanded, and several critical positions within PORF households would have to be filled. The long days and nights working alongside Landon were poignant reminders of how things used to be before Landon inherited the earldom. It also reinforced how much Christopher would miss his older brother’s sound guidance.
The flicker of the candle reminded Christopher to check his pocket watch. Half-past eight—later than he had planned to leave, but Emma should still be awake. Raising his arms above his head, he stretched out his tired, sore back and then lowered his arms to roll his aching shoulders. The thought of seeing Emma refueled his lagging body. He grabbed the list of Network members, folded it precisely into quarters, and placed it alongside Emma’s posy ring. Christopher’s stomach growled. He would head home and have Cook prepare a picnic basket. Emma had a tendency to skip meals too. He smiled at the idea of sharing a repast with her again. He’d made it two blocks from the offices before a footman emerged from the shadows and began to follow him unusually close.
Swiveling to confront the guard, Christopher asked, “What is the matter?”
Simon replied, “Nuffin, sir. Miss Lennox asked that we made sure ye made it safe back to her shop, is all.”
“Very well. We will make a quick detour to my townhouse to pick up some food, and then we can be on our way.”
Grinning like a fool, Simon revealed a picnic basket from behind his back. “Already done, sir.”
Damnation, he’d had the notion mere moments ago; the Network could not have known his wishes. No, but they had anticipated them—meddling fools. But Christopher had to admit, in this instance, it was a good thing. Sometimes good intentions do result in favorable outcomes. It didn’t make him sympathetic to their interfering ways, but he did appreciate their concern.
Striding across town, Christopher’s nerves finally settled enough that he no longer felt nausea at the idea of asking Emma to leave her shop, family, and friends behind in return for an undefined future with him. Christopher mounted the steps to Emma’s front door, resolved to obtain her answer. He took the food from Simon, who was still grinning, and pushed forward into Emma’s shop. The bell tinkled overhead as the door swooshed open. Christopher scanned the shop. “Emma?”
“I’ll be rit with ye.” Emma's steady voice came from above.
“Has your dad arrived for the eve?”
Emma appeared on the steps in a lovely, light-blue day dress. “He’s come and gone. Lock me door and turn the sign.”
He did as he was instructed and heard Emma sigh. Taking slow, methodical steps, he joined her on the stairs. “What is the matter?”
Hands on her hips, Emma asked, “Do ye always comply without hesitation?”
“Not always. I might object if there were a good reason to.”
Emma frowned and turned to mount the steps. Following close behind, he noted the sagging of her normally taut straight shoulders. He froze as he reached the landing. Pillows had been arranged around a blanket on the floor.
Emma gracefully sank down on the far corner and curled her feet under her skirts. “Are ye goin’ to join me or stand there starin’?”
Of course she knew of his plans. Nothing was kept secret amongst the Network. He placed the basket in the center of the blanket and sat with both legs stretched out in front, crossed at the ankles. “Simon tells me you’ve been extremely busy.”
She raised her gaze to meet his. “Aye. All because of ye and yer bloomin’ plans.”
“My plans?”
“I’m not likin’ the idea of ye marryin’ me and then ye leavin’.”
Christopher’s heart burst with hope.
The angry slope of her brows told him she was deadly serious when she said, “It’s not the union I’d imagined when I agreed to wed ye.”
Trying to control the mixture of fear and hope rioting through his veins, Christopher swallowed and then said, “Enlighten me. What type of union did you envision for us?”
Busy pulling out the food from the basket, Emma began mumbling, more to herself than answering his question. “It’s not like I wanted a fancy life or anythin’. I was content.” Emma paused, hand in midair with a shiny red apple. “Aye, I would have been happy if me life continued to go on the same but with a husband.” Emma snorted—Liar. Catching herself, she handed him the apple and repeated, “I jus’ didn’t imagine being married and then separated from me husband.”
“I had not pictured to be an ocean apart from my wife when I proposed. But I’ll not force you to do anything against your will. I had assumed as part of the Network, you understood our lives would never be the same once we received the mark.” He took the apple and bit deeply to prevent himself from speaking more.
“I do understand, and that’s the reason why I’ve been bloomin’ workin’ day and night to prepare.” Emma reached back into the basket and pulled out a roasted chicken leg.
Swallowing, Christopher asked hopefully, “Prepare to leave?”
Emma sat there, staring at him as she chewed the dark meat that she’d bitten off. It felt like a century before she finally patted her mouth with a napkin and said, “Aye.”
He lurched forward. A great wave of energy forged through him. His forehead touched hers, and he kissed her smiling lips. “What made you decide to leave?”
“Hmm…let me see, it might have been yer dastardly kisses.” Emma giggled as he kissed her again. Pulling back, his wife-to-be cupped his face and stared into his eyes. “I’m sorry, me noggin wasn’t workin’ right when ye first explained. I was confused and scared.”
Christopher lowered his head again. This time he lingered, taking his time to kiss Emma until she relaxed against him. He wanted to reassure her, banish her worries. When she looped her arms about his neck, he relaxed into the kiss and savored the sweet taste of her mixed with the remaining tart juices of the apple.
His elbow hit the basket, and he remembered where they were. “Emma, I must tell you something.”
She tilted her chin up. He couldn’t resist. He bent and indulged in sultry open-mouth kisses until she was left breathless.
He ran his thumb over her furrowed brow. Emma said, “Now ye have me worried again.”
“Emma Lennox, I’ve fallen in love with you.”
“But ye hardly know me.”
“That is the madness of it.” He searched her eyes for understanding and then added, “I’ve never believed a person can fall in love with another upon sight. Yet, since the day I met you, I’ve not been able to think upon anyone else. At first, I thought it was merely physical attraction, but that doesn’t explain why it is your voice in my head challenging me to do better or why I want to seek out your opinion on everything.”
She placed a hand over his heart, and the parchment crinkled. He sat up, pulling her with him. Christopher reached in
to his pocket and withdrew the list with the names of the Network contingent they were to escort. “And I’d dearly love your advice on the list of people Landon and I have devised.”
Emma peered down as he unfolded the paper. Head bent, she asked, “Wot’s it say?”
He pulled her closer and then pointed to the first column. “Their names,”—he shifted his finger to hover over the next column—“and these are the advantages and disadvantages we considered if they were to leave their present position.”
Emma pointed to the top of the list. “’Tis me name. Why did ye fink I should go with ye?”
“Those reasons were developed by Landon, not I.”
She tilted her head to look up at him. He couldn’t resist kissing the frown from her brow. “I couldn’t be objective. I desperately wanted you to come with me. I couldn’t bear the thought of not waking up next to you every morn, but I didn’t want to force you into something you would hate me for later.”
"I love ye for giving me the time to figure it out on me own.” Emma rested her head against his shoulder and released a sigh. “I’m looking forward to marrying ye, Christopher Neale, but I’m afraid once we wed, ye’ll not be able to get rid of me. I’ve been told I’m rather stubborn, and I’ll not be separated from me husband.”
Reaching into his coat pocket once more, he extracted Emma’s ring. Twirling the gold band until Emma could see the engraving, he said, “It says, me kisses are fer ye.”
Emma stared at the posy ring and then raised her hand out for him. As he slid the ring on her finger, Emma pressed her mouth to his. She shifted. Her knees on either side of his hips, she straddled him and pushed her chest to his. She was so close he could feel her heart beating as wildly as his own. Christopher wrapped his arms around her waist. He was never letting go of this woman.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Firmly seated upon her betrothed’s lap, entangled in his arms, Emma’s entire world narrowed and centered upon one man—Christopher. Warm. Safe. Secure. Her worries about the future slipped from her mind. Undoubtedly, they would return later, but for now, she wanted to languish in the moment. Emma boldly pushed Christopher to lie on his back.
“Ow.” His head had hit the floor.
Rolling forward, Emma placed her hands on either side of Christopher’s head. She giggled and removed the half-eaten chicken leg that he had landed upon. “Sorry.”
Taking the bone out of her hand, Christopher threw it back into the picnic basket. Face-to-face, Emma raised her hand and smoothed the worry lines creasing his forehead. Dark shadows sat beneath his playful brown eyes. “I can see ye have been working long hours.” She cupped his face and ran her thumb over his cheekbone. He needed rest. He needed a wife to take care of him.
He turned and kissed her palm. “Requesting a member to give up the only life he or she has ever known is not something one does without significant consideration.”
At the tender gesture, she lowered to capture the lips that had just branded her hand. Emma meant to lightly brush her lips over his, but when his fingers curled behind her head, she crushed herself to him until he was the one left breathless.
Shifting down his hard body, she rested her cheek on his shoulder and peered up at him. “Is that wot ye and Lord Hadfield have been discussin’ behind closed doors for past few nights—the bloomin’ list?”
His chest rumbled in her ear. “Landon will be your brother soon. He won’t tolerate you referring to him as Lord Hadfield.” His hand came to rest atop her head and then trailed down her neck and along her spine.
Emma snuggled closer. She’d always kept her distance from others, but she was drawn to Christopher and his caresses. It made her feel treasured. Emma drummed her fingers over his chest instead of working on sliding the three buttons of his jacket loose. “Ye didn’t answer me question, luv.”
Christopher’s hand paused mid-stroke down her back. “I like it when you call me love.”
“Then I shall continue—if ye answer me questions.”
He chuckled and said, “Yes. I was gathering the names of the members to be selected for the assignment of supporting Lord Burke. I wanted Landon’s insight, but in fact, for once in our lives, he proved as unfamiliar with the topic as I. So you see, my dear, it is your assistance I need.”
His request wreaked all sorts of havoc on Emma. He wanted her opinion, which meant he valued her judgment. Emma flattened a hand upon his chest and pushed herself up to sit astride once again. She searched her soon to be husband’s handsome features. Honest. Sincere. Christopher was not the complacent second son she had assumed him to be. “Ye need me?”
“Aye. There is no one else I trust.”
A lump formed in her throat. Emma’s finger traced the outline of one of his buttons. She let the wave of pleasure of being desired roll through her. Emma raised her gaze to his and said, “I’ve faith in ye too.” She kissed him once more. The rub of his coat against her chest and the intensity of his gaze brought about both a physical and a more profound need within her. She wanted to reassure him he’d not misplaced his trust in her. Staring into his eyes, she shifted her hips lower. She wanted more than kisses. The craving to prove she was his and would be forever had her hips rotating until she felt his cock bulging against her core. Her dress slipped off her shoulders. Christopher had managed to release the ribbons of both her dress and stays and was skillfully divesting her of her clothing. Smiling at his talent, she rose slightly to pull her hands through the gaping sleeves, but in order to be free of the material, she had to pull back further from his warm body to shimmy out of her dress. The gleam of desire shone brightly in Christopher’s eyes. Emboldened, Emma ran her fingers along the seam of his coat until they reached the top button.
Christopher inhaled sharply. “You, my dear, are eliciting every ungentlemanly thought I possess.”
She eased the top button through its hole. “And ye are makin’ me blood boil.” She began to work on the second button.
Christopher emitted a low growl from the back of his throat.
She paused and lifted her gaze back to his eyes. “Is somethin’ the matter, luv?”
His lips thinned into a straight line. Christopher slowly rolled his head from side to side. Emma freed the last button and spread his coat wide before running her hands up his sides and over his chest. The friction of the fine material against her palms sent shivers through her. “I fink it only fair I see ye naked before we wed.”
She tugged on his waistcoat, urging him to sit up. Christopher complied, rolling to a sitting position, which shifted her hips, causing her center to graze against his manhood. The ache between her legs intensified, stalling her hand on his cravat.
“What will you do once you have me naked?” Christopher’s voice deepened.
Emma grinned at his teasing remark. “Hmmm. Perhaps I’ll lull ye to sleep, as ye did to me last time.” Her bare skin pebbled at the memory of his hands kneading her muscles.
Emma slid the material from his neck as he removed his waistcoat, and together, they tugged his lawn shirt over his head. Emma didn’t wait to run her hands over his shoulders and down his naked chest.
Christopher trailed light kisses along her neck and shoulder. “The thought of your hands roaming all over me isn’t likely to induce my body to sleep.”
Chest to chest, Emma delighted in the intimacy of being held close with no barriers between them. “Ye’re still wearing yer breeches, and I want them off.”
Effortlessly he lifted her by the waist and maneuvered her to sit next to him. While he did as she bid, she moved the heavy basket out of the way. Emma began to adjust the brightly colored pillows, but she froze. Christopher’s smooth, creamy skin simply begged for her attention.
Intrigued, she skimmed her hand up over his torso that was adorned with a sprinkling of dark hair. He inhaled deeply and held his breath as she lowered her trembling hand back down to rest at his waist.
His gaze bored into her.
Sh
e ran her unsteady hand over his taut stomach. “Yer skin is hot.”
“And I see you are cold.” He trailed the back of his fingers along her arm. “Come, let me warm you.”
Emma snuggled into his arms—he was her new haven. Christopher lowered them to lie upon the floor on their sides. She rested her head on his arm and closed her eyes. The brush of Christopher’s warm breath upon her face set her cheeks aflame. She lay bare, ready to give herself over to the man she was to wed. His warm lips gently urged her mouth apart. She enjoyed his slow, tantalizing kisses. She wrapped her arm around his waist, palm flat against his back. Emma released his mouth merely long enough to whisper, “I love ye,” before her tongue peeked out to tangle with Christopher’s.
She raked her fingertips down his back, and every muscle of her future husband tensed. “I’m sorry—did I hurt ye?”
“Nothing to be sorry about…I’m a tad ticklish.”
A giggle escaped her. “Ye’re not serious, are ye?”
“Deadly.”
“Are ye ticklish everywhere?” She lowered her hand to stroke his manhood that poked against her stomach.
A flicker of alarm flared in his gaze. “Not everywhere.” A deep rumble escaped Christopher as she rubbed the tip of him with her thumb. He growled, “And that, my dear, will certainly not cause me to fall asleep.”
She rolled slightly forward to kiss him once more. Her grip tightened about his cock as his warm hand circled her bottom.
Easing her onto her back, Christopher loomed over her. “Are you sure you want to marry me?”
Hoping to lighten the mood, she blew the wayward strands from her forehead and answered, “Aye, ye’ll do.”
He chuckled. “Perhaps I’ll have to show you just how well I’ll do.”
Instead of kissing her again, he slowly ran a fingertip over her collar bone and then down the center of her body until he slipped a finger between her nether lips. He stroked until her eyes rolled back and a desire-filled moan escaped her. Christopher lingered, suckling on her breast and occasionally releasing her to flick his tongue over her nipple. Little bursts of light appeared behind her eyelids. Fingers continued to circle the sensitive nub at her core. Christopher shifted to place kisses down her middle. Emma's eyes popped open. He spread her legs wider to accommodate his shoulders. Poised over her, Christopher bent and gave her the most intimate kiss possible. His tongue slid along her nether lips.
Tempting a Gentleman Page 16
