The Wartime Bride

by Joanne Wadsworth

“You adore danger.”

  “I actually do.” She couldn’t dispute that fact, not when she had followed her father into Portugal, into the midst of a warzone and would follow him into any battlefield he entered. Life didn’t get interesting unless there was a little danger involved, and this man was dangerous.

  Chapter 3

  The lady in Harry’s arms pursed her lips in thought as the golden-red light from the fire flickered in her brown eyes. He wanted her to say yes, to accepting his kiss. Surely a single kiss couldn’t harm either of them. “Julia, I wish you could feel what you do to me.”

  “Since your hips are pressed directly against my hips, and I doubt that’s a stick in the pocket of your breeches, then I believe I already know what I do to you.”

  “A stick?” He wanted to throttle her, only he got swamped in her sweet vanilla and cream scent which had heat flaring through his body at an alarming rate and hardening that stick even further. Gah, not a stick. She was so infuriating, and his damned regimental breeches had now tightened to the point of pain. “Mr. Jones is not a stick,” he muttered.

  “Mr. Jones?” Her eyes twinkled with merriment. “Why do you call your manhood Mr. Jones?”

  “It was either that, or Mr. Smith. I’m not rather inventive.” He caught her hand and keeping his gaze locked with hers, pressed her palm against his hardened shaft. The moment he did, her brown eyes widened, then narrowed and darkened with a challenging glint.

  “It’s a delight to meet you, Mr. Jones.” She squeezed his member, which made his cock weep with need. “Harry, my answer is yes. To the kiss, that is. Let’s be dangerous together for a moment in time.”

  “Thank the merciful heavens for your agreement.” He caressed her bottom and scooped her closer.

  “Oh my. We are getting rather close.” She hooked her arms around his neck, pressed her lips to his throat and licked his flesh, actually licked him. “Mmm, you taste as good as you smell.”

  “I’m a hellish rake for entering your bedchamber without your permission, and an ass for touching you as I currently am.” He stuck his nose in her hair again, kissed her ear and traced his tongue along the soft indent of her lobe. “Tell me to stop.”

  “Please, don’t stop.” She clutched ahold of him tighter, her knees buckling. “Harry?”

  “I’ve got you.” He caught her up in his arms, his shaft jabbing into her as he walked her backward. He pressed her against the paneled wall and with her braced in place, he gave into his raging desire and kissed her. He swept his tongue between her lips and licked across her tongue then when she gasped and opened her mouth, he sucked her bottom lip between his lips and nipped her soft flesh. “I want to devour you, Julia.”

  “Oh, I, ah, have an admission,” she whispered breathlessly against his lips.

  “Tell me.”

  “I’ve actually dreamed of kissing you.”

  “Perfect. Let’s kiss again then, shall we?” He wrapped one hand around her neck, her skin so smooth under his fingertips and gently, he stroked down the long column of her throat. Raging with a heated desire he couldn’t tamp down, he captured her mouth with his and gave himself over to the passion flaring through him. He ravished her mouth, kissing her deeply, then softly, then deeply again until her lips were delectably swollen and his heart thumped like a mad man’s. When he finally found the strength to pull back an inch he muttered, “Tell me to leave.”

  “You need to leave.” Panting, she glided her fingers up and down his shaft, the head of his cock close to escaping the waistband of his breeches. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have introduced me to Mr. Jones.”

  “Never have I wanted to bed a woman as much as I currently want to bed you.”

  “I’m terribly inexperienced, I’m afraid.” Cupping his cheeks in her hands, she touched her mouth to his mouth, then softly traced the tip of her tongue along his lower lip, to the corner then up and over his upper lip, her breath catching as she learnt the full shape of his lips.

  Blood rushed through his body, and he buried his hands in her silky golden locks, every inch of her hot and curvy length swaying against his length as he claimed her mouth in the way of lovers. “I need you, quite desperately.”

  “The feeling is mutual.” She clung to him, one leg lifting and curling around the backs of his legs. “We are being outrageously outrageous.”

  “More like scandalously scandalous.” He caught her leg, kept it in position then rucked up her burgundy skirts and circled his thumb along her outer thigh. “You’re making me forget my good intentions. I should release you.”

  “I like this rough and wild side of you. It matches the irritating and maddening side quite nicely.” She tugged his shirttails from his breeches and glided one hand underneath. She pressed her palm against his abs and circled her fingers over the indents. “You’re right though. You should release me.”

  “Yes, I must.” He forced himself to let go of her leg and as she settled her foot back on the ground, her skirts swished to the floorboards. He fisted his hands so he wouldn’t grab her again and instead pressed his knuckles into the wall either side of her head. Something dislodged and the wooden panels moved. A door swung open and he barely caught Julia around the waist before she stumbled into the adjacent room—his room.

  She gasped as she eyed his chamber. “Oh goodness, we have an interconnecting door between our rooms. A secret interconnecting door.”

  Shocked, he snatched a candle from her bedside, lit it from the flames in her hearth and walked into the darkened depths of his chamber. Carefully, he set the candle in the holder on the oak mantelpiece above his fireplace.

  “All these months—oh, I had no idea.” She wandered about, stepping past his canopied bed with its thick gold and blue striped bedcurtains edged in golden-tasseled ties. Two plump white pillows were propped against the headboard, the blue covers upon the bed straightened each day by the maid who serviced this wing. She strolled across to his oak side table and traced a finger along the embroidered hussar saddlecloth which he’d left out.

  “I should put that away.” He collected the shabraque, rolled it and placed it on a shelf in his wardrobe.

  “This is a beautiful engraving.” While he’d had his head in his wardrobe, she’d ambled over to his trunk propped against one wall, her gaze caught on the wild horses engraved into the lid. Onto her knees, she lowered and with the gentlest touch, stroked the pattern etched into the rich red wood. “Stunning. Who carved this piece?”

  “My papa. He enjoyed whittling away at wood, a hobby he used to say, but he was incredibly good at it.” A hobby he enjoyed himself, the little wooden statues of animals inside the trunk carved by his own hand. “He passed away five years ago, two years after I joined the 18th Royal Hussars.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She ducked her head and sniffed, then lifted her gaze back to his, tears shimmering in her eyes.

  “Don’t cry.” He lowered to a crouch beside her. “Please, don’t cry.”

  “It always saddens me when I hear of someone’s father passing away. I treasure my own father so much and would simply die if he ever died. He’s all I have in this world.”

  “You have Jamie too.” Had she forgotten about her younger brother?

  “Yes, of course I do.” She blinked a few times and forced her unshed tears away. “My brother isn’t always around though. He flitters all about the fort and I can hardly ever keep track of him. Una is family too. I would have her if I ever lost my father. I know that for certain.”

  “How did Una come to be such a close friend of your family’s?” A question he’d often wanted to ask, but never dared to ask since it was of such a personal nature.

  “I don’t talk about how that came about.”

  He should let the question go. It wasn’t his business anyway, although he desperately wished to know more about her, to know her better. Huffing, he stood and removed the letter Bourbon had handed him in the war room from his brother and slotted it under the leather case bulgi
ng with all his letters from home, right on his nightstand next to his bed, where he could read it before closing his eyes for the night.

  “Is that another letter from home?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

  “Yes.” He caught her hands, aided her from her knees back to her feet.

  “I must admit that I’m slightly jealous of the number of letters you receive.”

  “You surely get them too?”

  “No, I have no other family. No grandparents, cousins, or relatives to speak of.” She searched his gaze. “It must be wonderful to have such treasured items to keep, this trunk and your letters. Tell me more about your papa. What was he like?”

  “Firm yet loving. Strong of mind and character, yet he had a huge heart. He loved his family, was devoted to us. He also led by example, always fighting for what was right in our world. Your father actually reminds me of him a great deal.”

  “My father has a heart of pure gold.” She beamed, happiness bubbling in her eyes. “There is no one I look up to more.”

  “He is a fine example of a man, one to be imitated for certain.”

  “Thank you for saying so.”

  “I’m only speaking the truth.” Since he’d now returned to his chamber, he crossed to his door and bolted it for the night. Although what should he do about the lady still within his room? Leaning back against the heavy wooden door, he couldn’t help but smile. “Well, at least no one saw me leaving your chamber and returning to mine.”

  “True, very true.” Smiling in return, she swished to his narrow window and opened the wooden shutters. His chamber overlooked the training yard and the arched entrance gate leading into the fort. She breathed in the fresh night air, and a light wind blew her hair about her face, her white blouse lit gold by the moonlight.

  Needing to be closer to her, he couldn’t help but silently close the distance between them and at her back, he swept her tresses over one shoulder and breathed in her sweet vanilla and cream fragrance. So damned tempting. Her aroma swirled seductively around him, or perhaps that was the woman herself. She beguiled him, entranced him, her ripe curves calling to him. Before he could stop himself, or think better, he skimmed his hand over her hip and rested his fingers on the flatness of her belly. A surge of need burned through him, utter madness taking him. He nipped her ear and whispered her name just to hear it on his own lips. “Julia?”

  “Yes?” Leaning back against him, she lifted and curled one arm around his neck, her torso stretching as she offered herself up for his touch.

  “I want to do wicked things to you.”

  “As in kissing me again?”

  “That would be just the beginning of the wickedness I have in mind.”

  “I’ve never allowed myself to step beyond the boundaries expected of me. This is all rather new and exciting, a physical pleasure I’ve never experienced before. Please tell me more about these wicked things you wish to do.”

  Torturously, he tried to refrain from touching more of her, but it was a losing battle. His hand drifted down of its own accord, his heartbeat pounding as he cupped her sex through her skirts. He was going mad, utterly and completely mad.

  “Harry?” She gasped his name. “This is dangerous territory we enter.”

  “Very dangerous.”

  “It’s also rather thrilling.” She turned in his arms, gazed into his eyes.

  “How old are you, Julia?”

  “Seven and twenty, a rather decrepit age.”

  “That’s not decrepit. You’re only two years younger than I am.”

  “Ladies my age are considered spinsters.” A teasing smile lifted her lips. “Do you have a lady at home awaiting your return?”

  “I’m currently unattached, although there is a lady my sisters have decreed would be a good match for me, or so they say in their letters. I’ve yet to meet this lady though.”

  “What is her name?”

  “Lady Amelia Evergreen. She has recently come of age, is the niece of a dowager duchess.”

  “Every man has the desire to wed, doesn’t he?” she asked him. “To have children, to continue living even though this war rages on. Do you?”

  “Of course.” He stroked her nape and she arched her back, her breasts pushing into his chest, the enticing fullness making Mr. Jones rather happy. He was bobbing about merrily and wishing for his release from his breeches.

  “I like it when you touch me.” She caressed his arms, her touch soothing him deep within. “When you decide to wed, will you sell your commission and retire from the hussars, or will you continue pursuing an advancement through the ranks?”

  “I’d prefer to sell my commission, settle down and purchase property, perhaps a residence in the country with wide open fields and a workshop.” A dream he intended to ensure came to full fruition one day.

  “My father and I live in the English countryside, about a day’s ride from the Scottish Borders where Una has her cottage.” She licked her lower lip and he wanted to lick it himself, then suck on it. “What dreams do you wish to pursue on this property you intend to purchase?”

  “My dream would be to explore a few engineering projects that I have in mind, in particular, steam-driven engines. One day travel by iron rail could become our nation’s preferred choice of travel, and I wish to be at the forefront of such a revolutionary new move.” Gently he smoothed his knuckles across her soft cheeks. “What of you? What are your dreams?”

  “All I can think about right now is propositioning you.” She touched a finger to his lower lip. “It feels as if I’m standing on the edge of a cliff and about to plunge over it. It is both scary and invigorating, but if I don’t take that plunge then I might regret doing so for the rest of my life.”

  “What kind of regret do you mean?”

  “There is an emptiness inside of me, a hunger for a liaison, no matter how short it might be. Would you ever consider such a liaison, even with someone so far removed from your own social standing? I’m talking about with me?”

  “You’re asking me to be your lover?” Her request was bold, but he was damn glad she’d made that request.

  “I’m ready to embrace my spinsterhood, but I wouldn’t mind one night where I don’t have to think about who I truly am, or where I’ve come from.”

  “Where have you come from?”

  “That’s a secret.” She smiled and tipped her head to the side. “Answer the question.”

  “What if I want more than one night?” He pressed his point by nudging her legs wider with one of his legs and stepping into the cradle of her thighs. “One night would never be enough with you.”

  “How long would be agreeable?”

  “A month.”

  She frowned. “That is a long time considering how close the French are. They are bearing down on us with swift speed. I would like to counter your offer.”

  “Go right ahead.”

  “One week.”

  “Two.” He scooped her up and dropped her onto his bed. She bounced with a giggle, so he slid in over top of her and took her mouth in a heady kiss. He twined their tongues and devoured her, until they both had to break for some much-needed air.

  “Oh my.” She fluttered a hand over her heart. “How about we agree to an affair that lasts for however long we have until you’re called into battle?”

  “That is a very sensible and realistic offer.” He shouldn’t be accepting her offer, but he also couldn’t walk away from her. She’d captivated him the first day he’d arrived here six months ago, and the only way to ease that captivation was to agree to her request. Nodding, he said, “You have yourself a lover, until I’m called into battle. When do you wish for our liaison to begin?”

  “Tomorrow night. Just in case you wish to change your mind.”

  “I’m not changing it. What about you?” He tucked her against his side and closed his eyes as he waited for her answer.

  “I’m not changing my mind either, and what are you doing?” she whispered in his ear.
/>
  “Sleeping, or I shall be soon.” He opened one eye, keeping his head on his pillow. “If we’re to be lovers, then we lie with each other each night, although as you’ve requested it’ll be tomorrow night before I introduce you properly to Mr. Jones.”

  “Well, I’m looking blissfully forward to that moment.” She giggled and closed her own eyes. “Good night, Harry. Good night Mr. Jones.”

  Laughing, he settled down for the night, the most perfect night in seven long years.

  Bliss—holding her was pure bliss.

  Chapter 4

  Julia rubbed her knuckles into her gritty eyes filled with sleep. She stretched and—oh, she flung her eyes open. She was in Harry’s chamber, his leg draped across her lower body, his arm slung over her skirted waist and his nose in her hair. Their conversation of last night came crashing back, and goodness, goodness, he’d agreed to an affair until he rode into battle. Her Adonis with his beautiful sculpted face and muscled body had promised to offer her a few nights of passion. How had she gotten so lucky? Particularly when he was from a level of society far above her own. She was a “no one” in the grand scheme of things. No one even knew the professor had adopted her as a baby, other than for Una and Anteros.

  Heat flushed through her and slowly, so as not to awaken him, she pushed up onto her elbows and drank in the sight of him. A beam of sunlight streamed through his narrow window and played over his blond hair and high cheeks. Stubble hazed his jaw, his chin sharply defined with a deep cleft in the center. The rugged appeal of him had her leaning in and giving up on her pledge of allowing him to continue with his rest.

  She kissed the delectable indent then nibbled along his bottom lip. His breathing halted, then started again, but other than that he showed no further outward signs of having awoken, even though he clearly had. She teased a finger along his brow and down his straight nose. “Do you intend to sleep the day away, my hussar?”

  “I’m not moving from this bed while there is a luscious woman still in it.” Leisurely he opened his eyes, his amber gaze blazing a whisky-golden hue as he ran it headily down her body and back up again. “Hmm, a fully dressed woman at that. I am clearly losing my touch. Why have I not removed your clothing as yet?”