Wedded for His Secret Child

by Helen Dickson

  ‘I think we should get rid of this.’

  Quickly he unfastened the ties of her robe, tossing it into a chair. All the while he stared into her eyes. Melissa stood still, keenly recalling the desperate longing that had haunted her since the night she had met him. All she could think about were the things he would do to her and the pleasure she would feel. Even now his eyes were burning into her.

  Without a word he removed his own robe. His strong, muscular body, eternally masculine, proud, savage and determined, gleamed in the soft light of the lamps. Seeing him thus, a tremor of admiration seared through Melissa.

  Unable to resist taking her in his arms once more, Laurence kissed her again. His body was beginning to take over his mind and he took a moment to divest her of her concealing nightdress, exposing her body to his gaze. The firelight and shadows added a glow to her flesh. Her hair fell loose down her spine and he revelled in sifting his fingers through the thick tresses before drawing her down on to the bed, his eyes drinking in in her beauty. He stretched out alongside her, his hand and mouth caressing her breasts. They were full and high, like ripe, firm fruit, thrusting themselves into his palm, the nipples hard. He was staggered by the wave of possessive lust and desire that rioted through his veins. Ridiculously potent, it stunned him with its intensity.

  ‘Explain to me why we waited and didn’t do this last night?’

  ‘That’s easy,’ Melissa said, sighing happily as she closed her eyes and relaxed against him, loving the heat of his mouth on her body. ‘You preferred to spend our wedding night in the company of your friend—or it could be because I am worth waiting for.’

  ‘I’m not going to disagree with that,’ he breathed, kissing her again, teasing her lips with his own as he ran a warm hand along the pathway of her firm stomach, pulling her body closer to meet his.

  There was a haste in him now to know and to touch every part of her, to reacquaint himself with her body, to claim her as his own. Melissa felt devoured and it took an effort of her will to remain pliant beneath his probing eyes. He tasted everything which was being freely offered to him. He took one of her nipples between his lips, his hands caressing where they touched. When he kissed a tortuous path between her throat and breasts, she stretched, inviting him to touch, to linger, to delight in curves and hollows. His long-starved passions flared high and his blood spilled through his veins like molten lava as his lips wandered at will over her flesh, the sculpted hipbones that defined her sides and the inside of her leg.

  For them both it was a time of reconciliation and revelation, that they could enjoy such intimacy, respond with such freedom. Melissa’s thoughts fled as his fingers found the most tender part of her. A whisper of a sigh escaped her as, with an eagerness born of the pleasures that were creeping into her body, she raised her head to kiss his eager lips. Laurence’s sanity finally deserted him. Rising above her, he lowered his hips between her thighs, his maleness piercing her body in an act of simple, unrestrained passion. He filled her fully, thrusting deeply, possessively, touching all of her. It was incredible and, as she began to move as he moved, beauty and something wonderful began to happen to them both.

  With a physical effort Melissa forced her eyes open and looked at him. His face was hard and dark with passion. It was the same in his eyes, yet there was as much tenderness in them as there was desire. Her fervent hope was that he could feel all the exquisite things he was making her feel.

  Any apprehensions Melissa had previously had vanished beneath the scorching heat of their mutual desires, as they were merged into one being, husband and wife, wrapped in the absolute bliss of their union. They were two beings fused together in a spiralling eddy of passion. And then ecstasy as they came closer still and Melissa felt his seed erupt, spilling into her, their lives merging.

  Holding her close with his lips against hers, Laurence waited until the flame that had ignited them both subsided and they relaxed. Sated, a fine film of perspiration glistening on his body, his hair damp, his breathing deep, he moved his weight from her and pulled her into his arms as he came down from the unparalleled heights of passion she had just sent him to. He felt the final shattering of a door he had kept locked and bolted in his mind for a long time—at least since their coming together in the Spring Gardens. His wife was innocence and wantonness, passionate and sweet.

  Melissa sighed and melted into her husband’s embrace, unable to believe that she could feel such joyous elation quivering inside. And yet, with honesty, she recognised that she had held something of herself back from the heat of sensation that had begun deep inside her, when, with his gentle touch, he discovered and tormented the secret delights of which she been taken unawares. But she dared not allow it to overpower her, so at the end she had turned her mind from what was happening to her, from the treacherous demands of her body, from complete dependence on him.

  Laurence leaned over her, gently smoothing her tumbled locks from her face, tracing his finger down the soft curve of her cheek, surprised to see her eyes awash with tears. Yet he had sensed her withdrawal from him, from succumbing to her ultimate pleasure. It had left him strangely disappointed, even though his own satisfaction had been overwhelming.

  ‘No matter how unconventional our beginning, or what the future might hold, we will always have this. How do you feel?’ he asked, his voice gentle, his gaze so tender that Melissa’s heart contracted.

  ‘Like your wife,’ she murmured, placing her lips gently on his chest.

  ‘Then why are there tears in your eyes?’

  ‘It’s happiness that makes me weep,’ she reassured him.

  ‘It only seems like yesterday when we met in the Spring Gardens. Why did you allow me to seduce you?’

  ‘At that time I had no experience of the world away from High Meadows. Believe me when I say I did not set out to trap you. Nothing could have been further from my mind. But—seeing you, I was dazzled. I was drawn to you sincerely and with all my naive young heart. I didn’t know what I wanted from you—only that I wanted it quite badly.’

  ‘And I took it.’ He was encouraged by her willingness to respond to his passion, but he realised she would have to learn to trust him. ‘You learn fast, Melissa, but I still sense within you a reticence. One day I will break through that reticence and make you tremble in my arms. When the strangeness of the past two weeks are over, you will learn to trust me and you will give me more. It was unpardonable of me to make love to you on our first encounter, but you were quite irresistible as I recall. I know that is no excuse for what I did.’

  ‘Irresistible? Dear me—was I?’

  ‘Yes, my love...’ He was sorry at once that he had used that endearment, which had automatically slipped out.

  ‘But I am not your love, am I, Laurence?’ Melissa said quietly. ‘I am not Alice.’

  Laurence stiffened and then moved away from her. She had obviously touched a raw nerve.

  ‘No, you are not Alice. You are nothing like Alice. I told you I have no wish to discuss her, especially not here, in our bed.’

  The words wrenched Melissa’s very soul. How she wished she had never mentioned his first wife, but after what had just happened between them she refused to be downgraded and was prepared to argue. As she tilted her chin her look was one of pure defiance. ‘I am your wife now, Laurence.’

  ‘So you are and you would do well to remember it.’

  ‘I’m not likely to forget.’ He turned and looked at her, his expression giving her no reassurance. His eyes were slits of explosive anger in his grim face and she could almost feel the effort he was exerting to keep it under control. ‘You’re angry, Laurence, but you have no reason to be. My intention was not to give offence, but if your reaction to any mention of your first wife is to fly into a rage, then I will not speak of her at all.’

  ‘That would be the sensible thing. I think it’s time I went back to my own bed. Eliza will be her
e shortly after breakfast. You have a busy day ahead of you.’

  ‘Really?’ Her voice was ragged with emotion as she fought to control her anger, feeling the fragile unity they had shared moments earlier beginning to slide down the slippery slope of clashed wills. She propped herself up on her elbow when he got out of bed. ‘It didn’t seem to matter to you when you took me to bed.’

  ‘Melissa!’ He looked down at her face, flushed from their lovemaking, and the wild tangle of her hair falling about her naked shoulders. His gaze took in her slender body, the firm rose-tipped swell of her breasts and narrow waist. She looked so very young, even though she was nearly twenty. Then his heart was strangely moved, for that’s all she was, despite the birth of Violet, a young woman who had been hurt by what she saw as his rejection of her. ‘Try to get some sleep.’

  He crossed the room to the connecting door, turning to look back at her. He didn’t want to hurt her any more than he had, but the truth was that if he didn’t leave her, he would be tempted to remain all night. She had the smell of a woman aroused. He could still taste the sweetness of her, still feel the softness of her breasts as he had caressed them. Before they had made love he had wondered if it would be as good as he’d remembered. He had not been disappointed. Why was it that he remembered it so clearly? he wondered perplexedly.

  ‘Do you not care for me at all, Laurence?’ she asked quietly. She had not asked him if he loved her—she was wise enough to realise that he didn’t.

  ‘Melissa, of course I care for you. How could I not? You are a beautiful woman.’ He was looking for an excuse, not wanting to tell her the truth, not wanting to hurt her with it, that when he had met her that first time he’d been doing nothing more than amusing himself with her and he was ashamed. And now, after what they had done, how could he shatter her woman’s pride and self-respect, her belief in herself and her own remarkable quality that was quite unique? What had just happened between them was the only time they had met on common ground. It wasn’t a meeting of the heart and mind, but a meeting only of the flesh. How could he tell her he did not love her—could never love her—that he was incapable of feeling that way about a woman ever again?

  Melissa did it for him. When two people loved each other to the exclusion of all else and entered into a commitment of marriage as a fulfilment of that love, then it could not help but succeed. That was not how it was between her and Laurence. Getting out of bed, not even bothering to cover her nakedness, picking up his robe from the bed she marched to the connecting door and opened it, standing aside and thrusting his robe into his arms.

  ‘Here—take it. You don’t want to catch a chill,’ she remarked in a frozen tone.

  ‘What’s this?’ he said quietly. ‘Has my wife gone cold on me so soon?’

  ‘It’s complicated. I said I felt like your wife—I’m no longer sure that I do. I’m sorry if my remark about your first wife upset you. You have my word that I will not mention her again. I feel that already you are regretting your decision to marry me. You did so to be a father to Violet and for no other reason, I know that, and I am sure you see me as a responsibility you could do without—that I am nothing more than a pitiful nuisance.’

  ‘Those are your words, not mine,’ he replied harshly.

  ‘Nevertheless,’ she seethed, her eyes blazing while her voice was like splintered ice as she wondered how they could have come to this in such a short time, when just moments before she had been languishing in his arms, ‘that is how you think of me—how you feel—and if that is so then I feel I should remove myself from your house forthwith.’

  ‘Like hell you will.’

  Laurence spoke quietly, but Melissa could hear the anger in his voice, a slow vibration. They stood glaring at each other. Laurence was very close to her, but he didn’t touch her. She could have walked away, but neither of them seemed capable of moving right then. The moment was too intense.

  ‘I will give you a warning, Melissa, and heed me well,’ Laurence said in a low, terrible voice. ‘Do not even consider leaving this house with the intention of leaving it for good. You are my wife and you will not leave without my permission—and you will certainly not take Violet from me.’

  ‘You, you, you!’ she retorted angrily, in an outburst that astonished him, not only because she dared to speak to him in such a way, but also because it was the first display of real emotion he had witnessed from her. ‘This is not all about you, Laurence. You may be my husband and Violet’s father, but I am still her mother and know better than you as to what is good for her. You are quite the most arrogant man I have ever known and clearly care nothing for my feelings.’

  ‘As a matter of fact I do care and, like you, I feel Violet is the most important thing in my life. Which is why you will remain here with me until such time as we go to Winchcombe. Do not dare disobey me.’

  Fury was quick to flare in Melissa’s eyes. ‘How dare you say that to me? I will not submit to any man. I do not need your permission to do anything and if I wanted advice, I would not ask you. I will not be unquestioningly subjected to your whims, however charismatic you may be. In the eyes of the law you might own me, but you do not own my spirit.’

  His eyes narrowed and a murderous glint shone out at her. Only one woman had dared to speak to him so defiantly and look at him with sparks shooting from her eyes. There was a deep and dreadful silence, a silence so menacing, filling with an unwavering determination of both of them to hurt, to destroy one another, that the tension was palpable.

  ‘Do not goad me, Melissa, and do not defy me. Do you forget so soon that you vowed to obey your husband?’

  Melissa’s voice held nothing but contempt. ‘I do not forget. I am not your chattel and I will not be treated or spoken to as such.’ The expression on her husband’s face was difficult to read, but some new darkness seemed to move at the back of his eyes. ‘Of late everything has happened so quickly I’ve hardly had time to draw breath. We need a while to get to know each other better, so I think we should take each day as it comes.’ She met his gaze levelly. ‘For the time being I wish to be left alone—to go to bed alone. I think you know what I mean.’

  ‘You are my wife and I have a legal right to touch you—to share your bed any time I choose. But worry not. I’ll control my lustful urges and not allow my base instincts free range.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear that.’

  They looked at each other in silence, a silence so deep Melissa thought they would never climb out of it, then, with a simple dignity which moved Laurence in its restraint, she walked back to her bed and got in, turning away from him. She did not stir when he went into his own bedchamber and closed the door quietly behind him.

  * * *

  Alone in the huge bed that a moment before had been the place of so much loving, Melissa pulled the covers over her head and drew her legs up to her chest. She knew Laurence didn’t love her and it was unreasonable of her to expect him to. Tears welled in her eyes. He had done his duty towards her by making her his wife. He was telling her without saying the words to be satisfied with that. In the deeply wounded depths of her soul and known to no one but herself, she could never be, but it was something she must endure and count herself lucky.

  What had Alice been like—the woman, his first wife, who had woven her web about him with such intricate care and skill and entrapped him among her silken threads? He still mourned her, that was obvious, still held her as a bright and shining light in his heart, loving and cherishing her memory with his every breath. Her vision remained blurred with tears as an overwhelming sense of despair sank its merciless talons into her.

  She had never thought of herself as a jealous woman, nor had occasion to be, but the terrible pangs she now endured were more searing than she could have imagined. She had not foreseen this wrenching anguish of loss and suffering of the heart brought about by her husband’s love for his first wife. Tears spilled from her eyes
, soaking the pillow. She was glad that he had gone, glad that he could not see first-hand how his words had hurt her. Just when she had begun to look forward to a shared future, she could only envy the woman who still occupied a place in his heart where she would so desperately like to be.

  Being the youngest of three siblings, for the most part ignored by her parents in favour of her older brothers, all her life Melissa had felt the need to be needed, valued and appreciated. Violet had filled the void in her life. And now, just when she hoped everything would work out right for her, she’d discovered that Laurence’s first wife continued to have a hold over him. After telling herself she would be the perfect wife, to look after his home and family to the best of her ability, she was left with a man lovesick for a dead woman. She called herself a fool for her unrealistic illusions. Most of all she grieved for the painful destruction of the hope in her heart that the knowledge of her feelings for Laurence had shattered.

  She could not ask him about Alice. Her pride forbade it. She knew now that he would never return her love and therefore she would not risk her heart any further. But, she asked herself, what did the future hold for her now? As she wiped the tears from her eyes, strength, renewed and resolute, grew. Leaving Laurence was not an option and she could not return to High Meadows. She had married Laurence and was determined to hold her course. But, she thought, he would never make her weep again.

  Unfortunately, she could not control her feelings, but she could control how she acted upon them. Alice cast a dark shadow between them and she vowed that while his first wife held sway over his heart, she, Melissa, would not share his bed—yet, she thought, annoyed by the sudden weakness that crept over her, he was her husband. How could she deny him? How could she resist him?