Fever Dreams

by Nicole Jordan

  “A pity you’re merely a woman. The cavalry could use your skills.”

  She laughed again—a melodic, husky peal of amusement that went straight to Ryder’s heart.

  “I miss those wonderful days on Cyrene,” she admitted wistfully.

  “So do I,” Ryder agreed wholeheartedly.

  Of one accord, they turned their horses and began to descend the far side of the hill at a much slower pace. In the distance, Ryder could see the valley and the home farm below.

  When they’d visited the farms yesterday, Ryder had noticed how eagerly the estate tenants had welcomed Eve back. Everyone she passed had smiled brightly at her, curtsying or bowing and tugging a forelock. And she was full of warmth and concern for their well-being.

  Ryder had learned even more about Eve from her new steward, John Baggot, who praised her not only because of the improvements she had made in productivity on the farms but also because of her heartfelt generosity to the estate workers.

  Reportedly when her husband the earl was alive, Eve had quietly gone behind his lordship’s back to ensure their welfare. And since the earl’s passing last year, she had openly involved herself with the running of the estate, much to the relief of her people. To them, Lady Hayden was considered little short of a saint.

  Ryder couldn’t help reflecting about it as Eve rode beside him, her carriage graceful and elegant as always.

  She was in her element here at this grand estate. For the past three days, he’d watched her with her genteel company. She was the supreme hostess, gracious and charming, putting her guests at ease, taking care of their smallest complaints and anticipating their wishes before they even knew to express them. And then he’d seen her deal with her tenants. She was the perfect lady of the manor, bred to the nobility, born to rule.

  Yet he knew another side of her. The deeply passionate side she had shown no one else, not even her bastard of a husband.

  His gaze wandered over her, drinking in the vision. She possessed a golden beauty that was both ethereal and earthy all at once. At present she wore a small shako hat that left most of her chignon uncovered. The sight of her hair catching the dance and fire of the late-afternoon sun took his breath away. Worse, it sparked an intimate image of Eve naked, hot, needy, desperate, as she’d been during their one night together.

  Ryder felt his loins harden at the memory. No other woman could make him instantly, achingly hard without even a touch. And with a touch…. Her slightest caress could make the fire in him blaze up until it raged out of control.

  It was something of a relief to Ryder when they eventually came to the neat row of tenant cottages. Eve drew up before the last one and slid down from her horse before he could come to her aid.

  Without hesitation, she went to the front door and rapped quietly. A moment later, the door was opened by a hulking figure of a man. The weary lines on his face disappeared the moment he recognized Eve.

  “Milady!” he exclaimed in delighted but hushed tones, giving her a deep bow.

  “Hello, Zachery,” Eve said just as quietly. “I don’t want to disturb Peg, only to see how she is faring.”

  “You honor us, milady. Please, come in. Peg will be right glad to see you.”

  He stepped aside to allow her entrance. When Ryder followed, Eve introduced them. “Sir Alex, this is Mr. Zachery Dowell, the new father.”

  When the farmer tugged on his forelock, Ryder nodded amiably. “I understand congratulations are in order, Mr. Dowell. A boy, is it?”

  “Aye, a strapping boy,” Zachery replied, beaming. “We’ve named him Benjamin. M’lady, you can see him for yerself, if you’ll come this way.”

  When Zachery led her to a rear room, Ryder hung back in the doorway. The small bedchamber was already crowded with what appeared to be three other farmers’ wives, who greeted Eve with glad faces.

  The new mother was still abed, exhausted after her ordeal. The babe was sleeping in her arms, wrapped in a blanket, his puckered red face untroubled by his adoring audience. Ryder watched as Eve took the chair beside the bed and greeted Peg quietly.

  “What a beautiful son you have,” she said gazing down at the tiny infant.

  “Aye, he is at that,” the woman murmured proudly.

  “I brought little Benjamin a present.” Eve fished in the pocket of her riding jacket and withdrew a wooden rattle tied with a blue silk ribbon. “For when he is a bit older.”

  “Oh, my lady, ’tis so generous you are. You shouldn’t have troubled yourself so. But your gifts are much appreciated,” Peg hastened to add, as if fearing to appear ungrateful. “The roast chicken was heavenly”—she pointed across the room to the basket of delicacies Eve had sent from her cook—“and the blanket you gave him is so soft.” She stroked the lamb’s wool that wrapped the child, then shyly offered, “Will you hold him, my lady?”

  “I would dearly love to,” Eve answered softly.

  Bending forward, she carefully gathered up the small bundle and cradled him to her breast. When Benjamin mewled softly and screwed up his face, Eve slowly began rocking the tiny infant. Almost instantly he settled back into contented sleep.

  Eve smiled, a picture of elation that squeezed hard at Ryder’s heart.

  “I would have loved to have had a son like this of my own,” Eve murmured in barely a whisper.

  “Mayhap God will bless you with one someday,” said Peg.

  “I’m not certain it will ever happen, for that would mean I would have to marry again—” Eve broke off, as if suddenly realizing where she was. When she cast Ryder a swift glance, he saw that a faint blush had risen to her cheeks.

  “Well,” she whispered, leaning forward to return baby Benjamin to his mother’s arms. “I don’t want to keep you awake, Peg. You need your rest.”

  “Thank you for coming, my lady. Especially when you have all those lords and ladies to see to.”

  Eve dimpled. “If truth be told, I was glad to escape for a short while. And it was a joy to see Benjamin. I would not have missed it for the world.”

  When she had said her farewells to Zachery and the other women, Ryder accompanied Eve outside, where he gave her a leg up and then mounted his own horse.

  She was unusually quiet as they rode away from the cottage, he noted, suspecting that her thoughts were back in the small bedchamber with the tiny infant.

  After a long while, Ryder couldn’t stop himself from commenting. “You really don’t intend to wed again?” he prodded. “You could have children of your own if you remarry.”

  Her smile grew wistful, then sad. “I doubt it. I think I told you I am probably barren.” Almost instantly, Eve visibly shook herself and sent him a bright smile. “And even if I am not, the possibility of having children of my own is not worth the aggravation of enduring another husband.”

  At her blithe pronouncement, Ryder felt a sharp ache stab at his gut. She was using her possible barrenness as an excuse not to risk remarrying, he knew very well. “Was your marriage that terrible?” he asked grimly.

  Eve’s shoulder lifted in a light shrug. “No, not by any normal standards. I had a perfect, privileged life, much like a fairy-tale princess. And Richard was no ogre.” Her mouth crooked in a wry smile. “I felt guilty sometimes, wondering what was wrong with me. How dared I be so unhappy? Of course I would never have confessed how miserable I was to Richard. He had lived up to every detail of the bargain I and my parents made with him. He gave me everything money could buy.”

  Ryder felt his hands tighten on the reins. Eve had allowed him another glimpse into her heart, but that glimpse only chilled him. He wanted badly to exclaim that he was nothing like her late husband, that he wanted to give her a child if she would only consider marrying him.

  He wanted children with Eve. But if it never happened—if she did prove to be barren with him as she had with her husband—he could bear it as long as she was his wife.

  But she was speaking now, her words drowning out his dark thoughts. “I am quite content
now, Ryder. I am living a fulfilling life where my small contributions actually mean something.”

  “True,” he forced himself to say. “You are not a useless ornament any longer.”

  “Exactly. The only thing I have to wish for is that Claire makes a match that ensures her happiness and that Cecil finds some sort of gainful interest that will keep him out of trouble. Once they are settled, I shall be perfectly happy.”

  “Are you certain of that?”

  She gave him a curious glance. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Once your brother and sister have flown the nest, you will be alone except for the aunts. A life with only those ancient ladies for company sounds deadly dull.” Ryder slowed his horse to a halt, requiring Eve to do the same. “Are you sure you want to spend the rest of your days living a passionless existence?”

  Eve found herself staring at him, wondering how she could answer. Before last week, she would have said yes—emphatically yes—she wanted to live her life without passion.

  But that was before she had spent one glorious night in Ryder’s arms. Before he had taught her what real passion was.

  Without replying, Eve tore her gaze away and urged her mount forward. Yet Ryder’s question echoed in her mind for a long, long while. In fact they were approaching the dower house before Eve became aware of her surroundings again.

  This house was where she would live if the new earl ever took up residence at the Park. When her husband was alive, she had sometimes used it as her own private retreat so that she could have a few moments completely to herself, where she didn’t have to be the ideal wife Richard had demanded as her part of their marital bargain.

  When she reached the drive, without conscious volition, Eve halted her mount. Her heart started pounding at the daring, scandalous thought that had entered her head.

  She looked at Ryder, who was eyeing her curiously in return. “There are no servants at the dower house just now,” Eve said slowly, her breath uneven. “They only come here twice a week to dust and air the bed linens.”

  He waited politely, allowing her the chance to expound.

  “Would you care to stop here for a moment?” she finally ventured.

  Ryder’s gaze sharpened for an instant before his expression turned bland. “Is that a proposition, sweeting?”

  “Yes…I suppose it is,” she answered boldly.

  She felt her face warming at his scrutiny, but she wouldn’t look away. The flagrant truth was she wanted to experience Ryder’s incredible passion again. Wanted to surrender to her own wicked desires. Ryder made her want to throw caution to the winds. To rebel from her proper, staid, genteel existence.

  Admittedly it had been a torment to remain apart from him this past week, to pretend she didn’t want him when she did. For days now, she had tried to fight her powerful yearning for him, but she didn’t know how much longer she could hold out.

  It was almost a relief to realize that she needn’t try any longer. She had an opportunity to be alone with Ryder now. Undoubtedly he would think her a shameless wanton, but she couldn’t control her longing to experience a few moments of uninhibited bliss in his arms.

  Eve held herself still as she waited breathlessly for his answer. She wasn’t as poised as she appeared; indeed, she was trembling inside.

  Ryder had told her he found her desirable. But what if he no longer felt that way? What if he didn’t wish to make love to her?

  “Then I accept, my lady.”

  His lazy reply reassured her completely. He had the devil in his eyes, pure charm in his half smile. Eve felt all her nerves clench in anticipation.

  Without speaking, she led the way down the drive to the rear of the house and halted beside the gate of a stone wall.

  When she would have dismounted, however, Ryder shook his head. “Allow me, love.”

  He swung down from his horse and came around to her side. Reaching up to grasp her waist, he lifted her down effortlessly and held her against him for a moment, his hands lingering on her hips.

  The careless smile he gave her made her feel as if they were sharing an intimate secret, while those potent dark eyes sent desire pooling between her thighs.

  Eve felt herself shiver as she stared up at Ryder’s handsome features. He was danger, he was excitement. He was utterly irresistible.

  Before her knees gave way, she forced herself to step back and turn toward the gate.

  They left the horses to graze and entered the sunlit gardens, where roses and other fragrant flowers bloomed in charming profusion. Silently Eve followed the path beside the stretch of lawn to a rear entrance of the house. Her hands were shaking as she pushed open the door and Ryder followed her inside, into a small parlor.

  The interior was cool and dim with all the draperies drawn shut, but she felt flushed and fevered.

  When she heard Ryder close the door behind him, Eve turned to face him. He was not as poised as he appeared, either, she realized. His dark eyes seared her, setting her heart racing and making her keenly aware of the liquid ache of yearning gathering inside her.

  She couldn’t wait to touch him. She whispered his name and moved into his arms, pressing her body urgently against his.

  Suddenly they were both wild with lust and longing. His touch was not entirely gentle as he captured her face in his hands and covered her mouth with his.

  Their kiss was explosive, the want too fierce for much gentleness.

  Eve had never felt such raw, reckless hunger.

  She reached up to grip his sable hair, overwhelmed by the sheer, overpowering need to be one with him, the frantic heat. She was hot and only Ryder could cool her; only he could satisfy the burning need inside her, assuage the ache between her thighs, in her throbbing breasts.

  She could feel his hands covering the swells beneath her riding jacket and she moaned, arching into his possessive touch. His fingers made short work of the buttons and pushed back the lapels, only to find too many layers of fabric. While his fingers sought her taut nipples beneath her shirtwaist and corset and chemise, his searing mouth left hers to trail flaming kisses down the arch of her throat.

  Almost desperate now, Eve searched blindly for the front placket of his breeches, her fingers fumbling to unfasten the buttons she had to fight the reckless urge to rip apart.

  When she set his rigid phallus free, Ryder inhaled a harsh breath, but his lips continued to ply her throat as he pulled her skirts up to her waist, baring her feminine flesh. Her skin burned against his naked arousal as it probed her wet, silken folds.

  “I want you, Ryder,” Eve rasped in a pleading whimper.

  At her hoarse admission, he broke off his caresses, his gaze flashing to hers, hot and glittering. His eyes seemed to blaze with an inner fire, a dangerous fire, as he lifted her up and drew her legs around his hips, locking her to him. Spinning her around, he pinned her back against the door and swallowed her moan as he kissed her fiercely again.

  His mouth was wild, devouring, with a primal need that had flared out of control as he thrust inside her and slid home to the hilt.

  The sudden, explosive possession was too much. The thrill of his entry, the breathtaking shock of his bigness, made her cry out.

  Ryder froze. “God, Eve…” he breathed against her lips, obviously struggling for control.

  “No, don’t stop!” Eve exclaimed when he started to withdraw.

  She found his mouth again, desperately holding on to his back, needing to feel the plunge and slide of his thick shaft inside her.

  Willingly he surged into her, answering her demand. Eve arched to meet him, straining wantonly into his arms.

  The sensations heightened to a wild song in her veins. Their rhythm became frantic, his body moving fierce and strong against hers, her hips jerking eagerly up to meet his thrusts with a sharp, fevered wanting.

  His heart pounding, Ryder could barely contain his savage hunger, Eve was so wild around him. He strained to keep his explosive need in check, but there was no finesse
left in him.

  It was a primal mating, a soul-searing union between a man and his mate. He felt jagged and feverish, driven to satisfy this craving Eve had set burning deep inside him. A craving more powerful than the beat of his heart, than the need to breathe.

  In another moment, rapture, savage and blinding, ripped through his body at the same time Eve shuddered and spasmed in his arms, her tight sheath clenching around him as he spent himself in long bursts.

  Ecstasy left them clinging in an aftermath of fire. Gasping, Eve melted back into him, while Ryder locked his knees to keep from sagging to the floor, his harsh breaths loud in the quiet parlor.

  He could scarcely believe what had just happened. Eve had welcomed him into her body with an eagerness and abandonment that had stunned him. It was a moment of intimacy so intense, so pure, he knew he would never be the same again.

  “Are you all right?” he asked finally when he could speak.

  “Mmmm…marvelous.”

  Ryder exhaled a slow breath into the curve of her neck. Marvelous didn’t begin to describe the bliss he felt. He was still holding her up, her legs wrapped around his thighs, in a position that must be uncomfortable for her, but he didn’t want to move.

  He would like to have been strong and noble and keep a safe distance from Eve, but her invitation had been impossible to resist. He’d been frantic to get inside her.

  At his sudden realization, Ryder silently swore at himself. They hadn’t used the sponges. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. If he had gotten Eve with child, she would have no choice but to wed him.

  She didn’t seem to share the same concern, however. Her face was buried in his shoulder, and after a moment she gave a rueful laugh. “I’ll warrant you never expected me to throw myself at you like that.”

  Ryder strove to keep his tone light. “No, but I won’t take it personally. It stands to reason that you would want a moment of abandonment, since you’ve been repressed your entire life. I’m honored that you chose me to slake your passions.”

  She raised her face from his shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed from their lovemaking, but there was a shy smile on her lips as she looked steadily at him. “We could go upstairs, Ryder. There are five bedchambers on the second floor.”