Charlotte had no idea.
"We appear to be at a strange impasse, Charlotte. Unable to move forward until we settle our past."
She did not pretend to misunderstand. Though she had privately and publicly forgiven him for the incident all those years ago, part of it remained unresolved. "It hurt when you rejected me," Charlotte admitted a bit unsteadily. "I am not an individual who is used to being denied."
"It did not escape my notice that you seemed to somehow always get what you wanted."
Charlotte narrowed her gaze. "Are you calling me spoiled?"
"I am agreeing with your observation."
Though initially feeling insulted, his smile was so sincere and disarming, it was impossible for her to take offense.
"Well, it therefore stands to reason that the desire for something denied would grow stronger with the passing of time, becoming more and more irresistible," she said calmly. "Hence my continued fascination with you."
His smile widened with amusement. "Ahh, so now I am irresistible?"
Exasperated, Charlotte raised her eyes to the ceiling. "I am trying to be reasonable, logical, in understanding this strange attraction I seem to have for you."
"It is very much a mutual attraction."
Her heart quickened at the tender expression in his eyes. "'Tis not easy for me to acknowledge my emotions," she admitted. "I resented you for a very long time."
"And now?" he asked in a coaxing tone.
Charlotte drew in a deep breath. "I confess to feeling a certain fondness for you that I cannot explain."
"A certain fondness," he repeated dryly. "Words to warm a man's heart."
Charlotte sobered. He exhibited a vulnerability she would never have associated with such a selfassured man.
"What are your feelings toward me?" she asked, fearing the answer, yet unable to resist the opportunity.
He shrugged. "They are all tangled up in the past and the present. But they do exist and though I have tried, I find it difficult to ignore them."
She managed an uneven smile. "Do you wish to ignore them?"
"It would be the most sensible, logical course. I am well aware of my behavior six years ago. I am certain it sounds odd, but I did not reject you, I rejected marriage. I refused to take an heiress as a bride to solve my financial problems, but more importantly I needed to be unencumbered so I could focus all my attention on my business. I know now that I caused you pain and I regret that more than I can say. Above all else, I do not wish to hurt you again." His voice was low, intense. "I am looking to you for guidance."
She sighed. "I have no answers, Edward."
"What do you want, Charlotte?"
"Peace," she admitted.
He stepped forward, reached out and took her hand. "We are not at war."
His words brought a tightness to her chest. For so long she had believed she hated him, and now she knew it was far more complicated. Knowing he had regrets, remorse about how his actions had affected her, soothed her pride, eased any lingering hurt.
His gaze shifted down to her feet, then back up in a slow, deliberate manner, a sensual visual caress, ending with him staring into her eyes.
She could not blink, for it was impossible to tear her eyes away, caught in his stare as though he held her in a spell. Just his nearness made her senses more acute. Charlotte could hear the wind howling outside the window, could feel the warmth from the fire in the grate, could smell the pleasant tang of his cologne.
He looked as uncertain as she felt, as if he too were warring with his conscience and desire. But his eyes were dark with need and filled with something more than uncontained passion.
She raised her hand and rested her splayed fingers on the hard plane of his chest. "What do you want, Edward?" she asked in a husky tone.
"You." His voice sounded strong and confident, yet his eyes betrayed the uncertainty of his emotions.
He leaned forward as he spoke, his face very near, his lips nearly touching her. She remembered the feel of them, the searing heat of his kiss in the woods. Charlotte shivered with indecision. If he kissed her now, she doubted she would resist.
In the hushed silence of the room she could practically hear the beat of her own heart as she struggled for the resolve to do the right thing. Suddenly a noise, sounding like a ball tumbling across the floor, echoed outside in the corridor.
"What was that?" Charlotte asked in alarm, pulling her gaze away.
It was as if a spell had been broken. The earl moved forward and blew out the candle, plunging the room into near darkness. It took a few moments for Charlotte's eyes to adjust.
"Why in the world did you do that?" she hissed. "I can barely see my hand in front of my face. If I take but a few steps I will no doubt trip over something and injure myself."
"Then don't move."
"We can hardly stand here all night."
"Why not? The noise in the hall must have been the servants. We can avoid being discovered if we keep the room in darkness." He smirked with satisfaction.
At least she thought he smirked. It was so dark, it was difficult to fully see the expression on his face. Trapped alone in the dark together and his main thought was that they were avoiding a scandal. How lowering!
"I believe you are possibly the most unromantic man I have ever met," she declared in a huff of annoyance.
"True, I am pragmatic, but that does not mean I do not have other sides to my nature." His hands reached out and grasped her shoulders. "Shall I prove how truly romantic and passionate I can be, Charlotte?" he whispered in her ear.
His hands began moving over her, stroking, teasing, enticing, and her mind was not entirely on the conversation. Fleetingly, she tried to think, tried to decide if she should stop him. The air around them shimmered with sexual awareness. Charlotte watched him, unable to move, wondering if he would let her leave if she turned away from him.
But, oh, how he tempted her to stay! His lips moved lightly across her throat, then he slipped his hand behind her neck and drew her close. Their lips met, melding together in a sensuous, ravenous kiss, echoing the hunger so long denied between them.
Charlotte's knees literally buckled, yet she was in no danger of falling, for Edward held her tightly to him. The scalding pressure of his kiss softened and her body jolted with the erotic touch of his tongue against hers.
She felt bound to him, body to body, heart to heart. A turmoil of emotions and feelings ran through her mind, but she now admitted that her connection to him was more than the irresistible taste of passion he had given her, more than the raging fever he aroused in her so easily.
The vulnerability she felt around him was no longer frightening; it was liberating. She was facing a crucial decision, an irrevocable step, and for the first time in her life, the answer was clear and simple.
"Lock the door, Edward," Charlotte whispered.
He froze, then closed his eyes and bent his head to her forehead. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, very sure." She turned her head and brushed her lips along the line of his jaw. "And do please, hurry."
CHAPTER 12,
There was a part of Edward that knew he should walk away. The staid, somber, considering part of his nature told him to act as an honorable, gallant peer of the realm, to exercise his famous self-restraint and leave. He knew full well if he locked the door he was treading on dangerous ground, he was making an unspoken commitment to be what Charlotte desired in a husband.
She wanted friendship, companionship, but most of all she wanted love-of that she had been very clear.
Was he the man to give it to her?
The lock clicked into place effortlessly. The sound was oddly comforting, strangely reassuring. Edward turned to Charlotte. He, who had always weighed each decision in his life most carefully, and concluded this was the right moment to let his emotions and passion control his destiny.
The gloom of the room disheartened him. The fire, burning very low, offered little light, the candle Charlo
tte had brought with her was long extinguished. This would not do.
He wanted to see every inch of her, wanted her to see every inch of him. Reaching for a brace of candlesticks, he lit both, then quickly lit a second and third brace. He placed them in different areas of the library and the room soon glowed with a soft, romantic light.
Pleased with the effect, Edward turned again to Charlotte. Her eyes were wide with curiosity and an edge of excitement. He could see no fear or doubt, but that did not mean she was not feeling those emotions.
Edward gentled his expression and approached her, setting a hand on her arm. "It's not too late to change your mind."
"Oh, yes it is, Edward." She stood very still, staring up at him as if he had lost his powers of reasoning.
Her sweet scent rose to encircle his senses, her tempting lips beckoned, her womanly curves teased. She let out a breathy gasp when he traced his thumb slowly over her lower lip. He could feel his blood heating, could feel his control starting to slip.
Stepping closer, Edward gathered Charlotte close, buried his face in her glorious hair, breathed in the scent of her sweetness and was lost. He cradled her face between his hands and kissed her slow and deep, kissed her with all the emotion he had so carefully kept in control.
The next kiss had her leaning against him, softly whispering his name before her tongue began dancing with his. He ran his hands down along her spine, feeling the warmth of her skin through the silk of her dressing gown, passing his hands slowly over the flare of her hips, lingering on the enticing curve of her posterior.
Edward caressed, then cupped her bottom, drawing her fully against his erection, shifting so that she could feel the full, hard length of his desire for her. An urgent shudder racked her spine and sent a wave of heat racing through his body that stiffened his already turgid penis.
His hands found her breasts. He hastily pushed aside her dressing gown, popped open the two top buttons of her nightgown and slid his fingers inside. With his hand still clutching its glorious prize, Edward lowered his head, nuzzling the column of her throat, tasting and nipping at the exposed sections of bare flesh, sliding lower, lower until he was able to drag his tongue across her nipple.
Charlotte's head fell back, giving him wordless encouragement. With a groan of excitement Edward eagerly wrapped his lips around her nipple and suckled her, taking the delicious flesh far inside his mouth. Her breasts were more magnificent than he had imagined, enticingly round and soft, the rose-tipped nipples large and pebble-hard. They strained against his tongue and he felt the ripple of need shudder through her body.
Little mewing sounds came from Charlotte's throat as his tongue flicked to first one and then the other breast. Her honest response spurred Edward's desire, emboldened him to reach down between her legs and caress her womanhood.
Deftly, his fingers parted the swollen lips, gently rubbing until he felt the sweet moisture of her desire. He fondled her with delicate strokes, his long fingers gliding through the silky curls, his fingertip brushing repeatedly over the erect little bud where all her pleasure centered.
"Edward?" she said shakily, her entire body tightening. "Oh, Edward."
His hand stroked her one more time, then stilled.
"Charlotte, are you frightened?"
"No, I am confused. I feel hot, yet I shiver. I feel restless, edgy, yet languid with pleasure when you stroke my body."
"If you want me to stop, you must tell me now," he said hoarsely, knowing he was barely beyond the point where common sense would prevail. "Do you understand?"
She stared at him for a long moment. Then she slowly lifted her hand and stroked his cheek. "I cannot possibly stop," she whispered in a voice so soft he could barely hear the words. "I want this very much." Her breath caught. "I want it to be you, Edward."
A surge of profound emotion shot through him. "I am deeply honored," he whispered.
Edward barely recalled removing his clothing, yet somehow he was naked. His fingers felt too large, too clumsy as he tried to open the remaining tiny buttons on the front of her silk-and-lace nightgown.
"Rip it," she begged, and with a growl Edward hooked his fingers into the neckline and tore the fabric down to her waist. The savage sound sent his blood pounding even harder through his veins.
Heat and possessive ownership surged through Edward as he pressed a nude Charlotte down into the softness of the carpet. Her breasts were gloriously full and ivory soft in the glow of the candlelight. He placed his hand on the delicate curve of her shoulder and dipped his head, capturing a rosy nipple in his mouth.
Charlotte cried out, her body rising to meet his. Her head thrashed against the floor. He used his teeth and tongue with tormenting gentleness, increasing her excitement. Edward lifted his head, keeping his eyes on her face as he cupped her breasts and feathered kisses over the tips. She cried out again and the primitive expression of desire drove Edward's passion higher.
She was beautiful. So undeniably beautiful.
Her skin was the color of rich cream; it glowed irresistibly in the light of the fire. She was perfectly formed, with delicate shoulders, a small waist and curvaceous hips.
Pangs of excited apprehension went through him as he tried to recall all that he knew about bedding a virgin. Almost nothing, actually, since he had never bedded one before. Yet somehow it seemed most fitting that they would both be embarking on a new experience.
He debated how to proceed. He reasoned her knowledge of the act would be limited, since her mother had died when she was so young. Yet discussing the particulars of what they were about to do would certainly destroy the mood. It would be best to simply allow passion to take its natural course, to ensure that her body was teased and pleasured and ready for his possession.
That would be a most enjoyable task.
He kissed her belly, her navel, then slid his hands beneath her buttocks and lifted her to him. The smell of her skin was intoxicating.
"Edward?" Her voice trembled.
"I want to taste you, Charlotte, to worship you with my mouth."
"Do men and women really do such things?"
"Yes, when they trust each other. It brings them both great pleasure." He sensed she might be afraid of what he could make her feel, but he also sensed curiosity mingled with her desire. "Do you trust me, Charlotte?"
"I do, but. . ." She scrutinized him and he could almost see the indecision raging inside her.
"Every part of you is beautiful, Charlotte."
She cried out when he put his mouth on her, shuddered as he stroked the delicate flesh within. He gripped her hips in his hands, not allowing her to hide anything from him as his tongue glided over the swollen bud of her sex in curling strokes.
Her soft eager whimpers turned to sobs as his tongue plunged rhythmically into her, her breath grew rapid and harsh, her hands desperately clutched at his hair. She arched upward, offering more of herself, and he increased the tempo of his strokes until she began to shudder uncontrollably. A second later she cried out in release, her hips jerking hard against his lips and tongue.
He was entranced, feeling her shiver under his onslaught, knowing he was bringing her pleasure. His breath coming fast and urgent, Edward rose up on his knees. It took everything he had to stay in control.
"Touch me, Charlotte," he groaned. "Feel how much I want you." Almost roughly, he took her hand and guided it toward his erection.
She ran her fingers over it. He jerked at her touch, then pushed against her palm. He taught her the movement that pleased him, then allowed her hand to explore and stroke.
"Tighter," he whispered, moaning at the exquisite sensations her fingers produced. "Harder." -- - - - - - -- - -- - -- -
Her hand tightened on his penis and it throbbed in her palm. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful. Edward rolled himself on top of her, parted her legs and settled himself between them. Still not penetrating her, he slid his throbbing cock back and forth between her upper thighs. With every move
ment she moaned loudly and rocked against him. She was ready, more than ready, and he knew he had better complete the act or else he would disgrace himself.
Edward shifted himself above her, pushed her legs wider apart with his knee, then carefully guided himself inside the wet heat of her body. She was relaxed from her earlier orgasm, but he soon reached the barrier of her virginity. He had known it was there, of course, but the tightness sent a scorching heat through his blood.
He pushed gently and she moaned softly with pleasure. Encouraged by her response, he thrust a little deeper, bringing himself again against the firm barrier. He knew he had to slow down, had to make this good for her, but it was difficult to think rationally with his emotions and passions riding at such a fevered pitch.
Gripping her hips, Edward held her in place, hoping to allay the initial pain by inching in slowly. Charlotte lifted her head and began showering kisses on his upper arms and his control snapped. Her flesh resisted, but he pushed upward, stretching the soft tissue until it broke, burrowing deeper until he was fully inside.
For a long moment he did not move, reveling instead in the powerful joy of their being one, joined together in the most basic, primal act of man and woman. She looked up at him, dazed. His gaze locked with hers. Her eyes were dark with wonder and passion and an emotion so keen he dared not imagine what it meant.
"Charlotte." He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. "You are the most perfect woman I have ever known."
"You are the only man I have ever known," she murmured softly. "And that makes me enormously happy."
"Ah, but there is so much more to experience," he replied with a wicked chuckle.
Edward surged forward, propelling himself all the way inside her, then withdrawing to the tip. He repeated the motion over and over until she was panting and straining against him, grabbing his shoulders for leverage, tilting her hips eagerly upward, driving her pelvis hard against his.
Fascinated, he watched her face as he thrust back and forth, driving himself into her heat, marveling not only at the physical sensations of pleasure, but the emotional joy that brought an unexpected and profound dimension to the moment.
The Christmas Heiress Page 16
