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To Charm a Bluestocking

Page 17

by Renée Dahlia


  ‘So pain is good? That is crazy. And why does it hurt all over? I was expecting to see my whole face burnt to shreds.’ Nicholas was glad that he could discuss the wound to make sense of the whole thing. Talking about the details might help him work out how to come to terms with the destroyed ear and ugly red patches. As much as he joked about growing his hair long, he would end up with a nasty scar along his jaw and hairline that would push out halfway down his cheek. He reached his hand up to touch the ear. Josephine shoved it away.

  ‘Don’t. Don’t touch it,’ she blurted out, almost a shout. His hand tightened into a fist that hung in the air between them. Josephine’s lips parted as she took a few quick breaths. In that momentary silence, he forced his arm to relax and drop back down into his lap. He clasped it in the other hand and twisted them together.

  ‘It’s very important to leave it. Most burns patients die from infection and you have been lucky so far,’ she said.

  ‘So you are telling me, now, a week later, that I could be dead?’ he asked.

  ‘I really don’t want to think about that,’ Josephine replied. She let out a big sigh and stared at him with her hazel eyes wide. The green rims in her irises reminded him of the fields of grass at their Newmarket horse farm. The green was so bright and fresh. The colour enhanced as her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. He really could be dead if it wasn’t for his unusual team of female doctors. Josephine’s tears brought it home. So close to being an also-ran. An ear didn’t matter. He’d nearly missed this. With her.

  ‘Yes, most burns patients die,’ she said. Her voice had a little shake in it, which reinforced how close to death he’d been. Before he’d met Josephine, he would have brushed it off. Would have even had a rush of energy, a sense of being truly alive by being nearly dead. He’d craved that. Before. Not now. Now he had something real to live for. He wiped his sweaty palms on the sheet and a light-headed sensation rushed over him.

  ‘Even minor burns are difficult to treat because burns seem to get infected easier than other injuries,’ she said.

  And yet he had survived. His tongue dried and he licked his lips.

  ‘Why is that?’ he asked with a slight gravel to his voice.

  ‘That is one of those questions that medicine has yet to answer. The treatment of burns is still mostly an unknown because patients die before we can get any of these questions answered. We have used a new treatment on you, and you are lucky that we even knew about it. It was only because Marie’s father was reviewing a paper for publication that we heard about the treatment. It has kept the infection away, so basically the treatment has saved your life.’ Josephine’s words were matter-of-fact, but he heard the tremor in her voice that divulged a deeper feeling. He leant back against the pillows. He was lucky that he’d been treated here with access to Marie’s father’s papers. He flung his hands down and used them to push himself up straight. He’d probably be dead if he’d ended up in hospital. The experimental treatment had saved him. It was unlikely that a standard doctor would use an untried method.

  He was lucky. So goddamned lucky that he’d been treated by three women who were used to beating the system. His heart thumped and his breath came fast and shallow. It was their hard fought place here that gave them the courage to step outside a conservative treatment. They had saved him because of it.

  ‘You should write to the author of the paper and let him know,’ said Nicholas.

  ‘Do you think so?’ She tilted her head to the side and bit her bottom lip. He nodded his encouragement, fuelled by the vigour of his heart. His body filled with warmth as blood rushed all over. He wanted to leap up and hug her. She frowned and stepped backwards. She shook her head in a no. His whole body wanted to scream yes at her. He leant forward as he sat on the couch. His muscles rigid as she dismissed the idea.

  ‘It could be just luck. Not every burn gets infected, and not every infection results in death. We were also very careful to always use clean equipment around you.’

  ‘Emerson said that only shallow men believe in luck. Strong men believe in cause and effect. I believe that you and your friends are my cause and effect,’ said Nicholas. ‘Write the letter.’

  ‘I’ll redress the wound first. Best to keep it clean,’ Josephine replied, a slight blush on her cheeks. Her competent hands completed the dressing and he willed himself to relax under her ministrations. She was his saviour, and he would do everything in his power to keep her next to him forever. To take her ability and shout it to the world. He might never work again with this scar, but he could be her champion. She finished up and gave Betsy all the paraphernalia to tidy away. The pain in his head eased as the medicine soaked in. He leant back against the pillows and tension seeped out of his muscles.

  ‘I received a letter from Lord Walstone that you might find interesting,’ he said.

  ‘Oh? What does Father have to report?’ she said. He gestured to the chair next to him and she sat down. She tucked her skirts under her and leant towards him.

  ‘News of the Orange Riots made the papers in London. There was the typical reaction from the New Union Movement but no useful intelligence on the Van Percy brothers,’ he said.

  ‘Brothers?’ she asked. A frown darted across her brow and she squinted at him.

  ‘Brothers?’ she repeated and he heard the uncertain wobble in her voice. ‘What do you mean brothers? And anyway, where were you?’ She sat up in her chair, squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. Her voice changed as she threw out her accusation. It was obvious she was mad about something. He blinked; oblivious as to what. He shuffled against the pillows and scratched the back of his neck.

  ‘Three days,’ she said and pointed her finger at him. ‘You disappeared for three days with nothing. Not even a note.’ She sighed and her head dropped between her shoulders.

  Oh, that. She meant before. Before. When he had been arrogant and had done his job without any consideration to her feelings. He cleared his throat and reached out for her hand. She snatched it away and folded her arms.

  ‘Let me say this,’ he said as he started his explanation. She leapt out of her chair as if his words had scalded her, and rushed from the room.

  ‘Damnation.’ Nicholas staggered as he stood up and put weight on his sore foot. He ventured out in the hallway, only to see Josephine’s skirts billow out as she rounded the corner at the end. He heard a door slam as he hobbled after her.

  ‘Josephine, you can’t just leave,’ he yelled at the closed door.

  ‘Yes, I can. You. You sod.’ Or at least that’s what he thought she said in response. Her sobs made it hard to tell.

  ‘Damn it, let me in,’ he said, banging on the door.

  ‘No. I don’t want to hear your explanations. Leave. Like you did before.’

  ‘Look!’ he yelled in exasperation. ‘I love you, you stubborn woman. Let me in.’

  There was a pause. He leant on the door using his good ear to listen. Suddenly, the door opened. He fell into the room, headlong into Josephine who stood there with tears streaming down her face.

  They tumbled down. Nicholas reached around her to try and slow their descent towards the carpet.

  ‘Are you alright?’ he asked.

  ‘No, you fool,’ she replied, her eyes spitting in anger and confusion at him. He was reminded of their first meeting when he’d thought about how fabulous she would be in bed with all that natural passion. He grinned.

  ‘You can’t just barge in here and leap on me,’ she demanded.

  There was only one choice. He kissed her.

  All the emotion of the morning, the shock of his injury, led to this moment. Nicholas poured all that pent up energy into the kiss. It felt so right, like a homecoming. Lips and tongue tangled together, Josephine met his energy with her natural passion and he gloried in it. It felt as if every kiss he’d had before this one was simply training for this moment. Even their earlier kisses, before his injury, were just play compared to the raw, all-encompassing delight in this k
iss. It was better than before, he knew, because he loved her. Love made lust stronger.

  His arms were wrapped around and under her. He freed them and his hands swept up and through her hair. He held her head possessively as he relaxed back from the depths of their kiss. Lightly playing with her mouth, he caressed her lips with his. He nibbled along her jawline until his lips met her earlobe and he sucked, surprising a moan from Josephine. He grinned against her ear and whispered, ‘I love you, you know.’

  She turned to face him, moving her head away from his.

  ‘But you left.’

  ‘That was before. Before I really understood how much I cared,’ he said.

  ‘Really? Are you sure it’s not just gratitude?’ she questioned.

  ‘Does this feel like gratitude?’ he asked and gently thrust his erection against her. She shook her head, and he felt the shiver that raced through her.

  ‘Are you ever serious about anything?’

  ‘I’m seriously in love with you. Surely you know that it’s true,’ he said, as he licked her earlobe and nibbled at her neck.

  ‘I’m sorry I upset you by leaving. I was arrogant. Stuck in my job where secrecy was all that mattered. I know different now,’ he continued.

  She looked at him, tilting her head slightly in that motion he adored.

  ‘I shouldn’t have just left either. It was just that you used the same words that the professor used,’ she said.

  Nicholas raised his head away from her ear. He moved his hands away from her head and rolled over so she lay on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her and just held her as she sobbed. After a short while, the worst of it passed and she could stutter out her thoughts.

  ‘I shouldn’t have shown you the ear. It was too soon. You were so brave and stoic. It seemed like you were accepting it so well, and then you lashed out and I realised that I should’ve made you wait. It’s my fault,’ she said with her eyes squeezed tight shut.

  ‘It’s not your fault. Damn it, you are the hero here. The professor and his brother started a riot. Their mob burnt down the pub and killed Daan. They are at fault. Without you and your friends, I’d be in hell with him,’ he said.

  ‘Hell?’ she asked, sucking in a shuddery breath. Her face shone pink at his compliment and her body relaxed on top of him. He shook his head slightly and laughed.

  ‘I’m in hell here, holding you.’

  She frowned. And then her eyes widened as she figured it out.

  ‘You must know that I love you,’ she said and pressed a kiss to his lips.

  ‘Thank heavens for that.’

  The relief rushed through him filling his torso with warmth. He returned the kiss with a vengeance. Now that he was certain that she loved him just as he loved her, he poured himself into her with confidence. She responded in kind, her hands coming from where they rested at his sides, tugging at his shirt buttons. He fumbled as he tried to undress her, both rushing to get past the boundary of their clothing to get closer to each other. She rolled off him so she could access all his buttons, ripping at his tear-soaked shirt. He adored the desperation in her touch and his erection strained against his pants.

  Her hands pushed the cloth out of the way and her fingers spread across his chest muscle, tangling in the light dusting of hair. He sat up to give himself better leverage to undo her dress and corsets, finally pulling the whole dress down exposing her breasts to him. They sat together, their legs intertwined.

  ‘Heaven,’ he said and bent to worship her. Her nipples were hard in anticipation, reaching out for his mouth. He placed his mouth over one of them and sucked. Her scent, roses and lemons, surrounded him. She moaned. The only reward he needed. She nuzzled up against his neck, careful to stay away from his injury. Her consideration allowed him to concentrate on her pleasure.

  He pressed her back down to the floor and she responded boldly exploring his chest, pushing his shirt further apart with her hands. He sat across her and tugged his shirt off completely. She sighed and her eyes widened at the sight of his broad shoulders. He flexed his muscles for her. A rosy blush broke out on her face and she reached for him. She traced her fingers up his chest and across each shoulder. Along the collarbone, and down his arms, following the lines of the muscles down to his elbows. His breathing deepened as he waited to see what she would do next. Her hands arrived at his forearms and her fingers spread out in wonder at the definition. He flexed again for her and she gasped as the muscles rippled under her hands. He grinned as his skin warmed under her touch. Her gaze fell to his chest and her hands followed, back through his chest hair and down, down to his pants. Her fingers slid under the top of his bulging trousers.

  ‘Not yet,’ he growled as he traced the outline of her breasts. He lay down on her, shifting her hands away from him and pressing his head into the valley between her breasts. He tasted her soft skin and had to fight his own instincts to rush forward. Instead, he nuzzled against her.

  ‘Yes, now,’ she said. Her breath was hot and heavy against his hair. She tugged at his pants greedily. He skimmed his hands low and found his way under her skirts. She sagged back in pleasure as he traced his hands up her thighs until he reached her quim. Wet and ready for him. He moved to her side to create enough space for his hand. He lifted his head and kissed her deeply as his finger slid inside her. She moaned into his mouth and opened for him.

  ‘I want you,’ she said. Her hands fumbled against the waistband of his pants. He growled. He nearly spilled as her thumb accidentally stroked his erection through the material. He slipped another finger inside and gently thrust, his thumb finding her pearl and lightly rubbing it. Her hips bucked up towards him and her skin washed pink as her orgasm broke around his fingers. Her moans came fast into his mouth. Her hands grasped at his pants. He used his other hand to help her. Together they tugged down his pants, exposing his cock for her. She grabbed him greedily, sliding her hands up the hard length of it.

  ‘Oh God,’ he breathed into her mouth and pulled her hands off him. With a huge effort, he lifted his head.

  ‘Do you have a rubber?’ His voice croaked and his arms shook as he struggled for control. She shook her head, confusion written in her narrowed eyes. He sat up and turned away from her. Focused on the wallpaper. Her hand reached for him and he held it in his to keep her at bay.

  ‘A rubber. You know. To …’ he said.

  ‘I know what they do,’ she said. Her breath fluttered against his shoulder blades. He wanted her to have the choice, even in this moment of need. He opened his mouth to tell her but she spoke first into the pause.

  ‘I hand them out to women who have just survived the birth of a baby. So they can choose when to have the next one. To give their body time to recover,’ she said. He leant his head back until it rested against hers. Her sensible approach increased his agony and need.

  ‘You are shaking,’ she said. She pulled her hand from his and spread them against his shoulders. Her breasts pressed against his back and he struggled to maintain his ability to think. He heard himself groan. Her lips found his good ear and her breath warmed his already heated skin.

  ‘Relax. I have a few in my physician’s bag,’ she whispered. Her body dragged against his back as she stood up and walked across her bedroom. He went to follow. She shook her head.

  Chapter 19

  ‘Stay,’ she said. Astounded that her voice could command him. Her dress sagged open down the front. It hung awkwardly off her shoulders, restricting her movement as she crossed the room. She pulled it off. The fabric abraded her heated skin as the bodice and corset fell to the floor.

  Nicholas had stretched out on her rug. His naked chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. A hint to his anticipation for her. His pants were open, pushed down to the middle of his strong thighs. His erection stood tall among the dark hairs that surrounded it. She unbuttoned her skirts and let them fall to the floor in a big whoosh. His face, with eyes closed, didn’t change at the noise. But his hands gripped the rug and a tremo
r broke across his muscles. His body tensed at the sound of her dress falling. She grinned and turned away.

  Her physician’s bag lay under her desk in its usual spot. She picked it up and rummaged through until she found the little tin case that held three rubbers. She licked her lips and took a quick breath. Yes, she did want this. She took one step towards his naked, inviting body. Then stopped. The tin cold in her palm.

  She had to be certain. Was his explanation of those missing three days too fast? Perhaps too convenient. Had she forgiven too fast? She shook her head and several strands fell from her loosened coiffure. They tickled her shoulders. A flutter filled her stomach. She pressed her hands against her naked skin. The coldness of the tin jarred against the flush of arousal. It was the contrast that reminded her. He had called her his hero. She was certain about this.

  She took a deep breath and stepped out of her drawers. Completely nude, she walked the last few steps towards him. She stepped over him so she stood above him. Straddled. Naked. The sheer idea of taking control like this sent a blush across her whole body. She blew out her breath and slid her heels together so they touched his thighs. The hair on his legs rubbed her ankles, but she didn’t have time to register that as his eyes flew open. He growled deep in his throat. A sound of pure appreciation. Before she could think herself out of it, she sank down and sat on his thighs. His erection, long and hard, just in front of her curls. His arms shook and his hands strained as they gripped the rug. She leant forward and placed the tin on his chest. Her stomach grazed his erection as she bent forward. A damp needy ache grew between her legs. She paused. Just for a second. He wrapped his arms around her and dragged her down onto him. Her breasts squashed against the dusting of hair on his chest. The cool tin pressed into her skin.

  He lifted his head and kissed her. That last hint of uncertainty flew away. This was where she wanted to be. Spread naked on top of his hard, hot body with his erection pressed hard and warm against her stomach. She opened her mouth for him and pressed her tongue inside. He returned the favour and they grappled together. Ripples of pleasure spread across her body as their mouths played. He groaned into her mouth and his hips lifted. His erection pressed into her stomach and sent quivers pulsating into her core. The tin dug into her breasts and she winced against his lips. He reduced the pressure and shifted his kisses down her jawline.

 

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