Grabbing her hands in his, Rupert took them to his lips for a light kiss. “I don’t want to push too far.”
Too far … Pent-up yearning had rendered her insane for the last three weeks.
“I want it to be right. I’ve been waiting for this my whole life.” Rupert kept his eyes down.
She wanted to scream: I’m the virgin here. At freaking twenty-two.
Staring at Rupert, his arms dangling at his sides, Madison understood tonight wasn’t about her and her need for fulfillment. Tonight was about sharing and giving, not taking by force—like that night on the bayou when Tarquin had attacked her.
Madison was ready. She yielded, voluntary and out of love.
She snuggled her way back into his arms, where she belonged. “I’ve waited a long time too, and I’m glad I did. I want it to be you.”
Chapter 40
SHE SWITCHED ON THE antique bedside lamp, and a halo of light appeared on the ceiling of her bedroom. Behind her, Madison heard rustling as Rupert removed his jacket and his waistcoat. A warm glow expanded throughout her body.
His fingers brushed her shoulders, which the strapless dress had left uncovered. Never before had she wanted to be touched and held with this intensity. She wanted to be his.
This was why she had waited so long for the right moment. For him. For tonight.
When she faced him, his mouth pulled in a sharp breath. Then she reached out, unbuttoned his crisp shirt, and spread her palms across the taut skin of his chest. His heart beat like a drum. She bent and let her lips moisten the pulsating spot. Rupert shivered. Her teeth gave a light bite on his nipple and he let out a faint moan.
“It was meant to be,” she reassured him.
He gave her a short nod. “Funny, how the roles are reversed. The virgin reassuring the rake.”
But his hands were steady and strong when they wrapped around her waist, then caressed their way up to the zipper pull between her shoulder blades. The zipper opened. Her dress fell to the floor, and her nipples hardened, not due to cold, but to the closeness of his skin.
Rupert grabbed her hips and pulled her toward him. He was hard, and the knowledge made her feel like a queen.
With a smooth movement he made her sit on the silk cover of the bed and knelt at her feet.
He parted her legs and leaned to kiss her down there through the lace. She shuddered. The thin material of her lingerie sharpened the effect of his tongue on hers. His fingers slipped underneath the edges of the lace and teased her lips. His thumb replaced the tip of his tongue, skimmed her soft spot. The heat spread from her core to her belly, to her breasts. Frustrated pleasure piled up inside her, heightening her need for release.
“Touch yourself,” his eyes had flicked back to her face, “I want to see your hands on your breasts while I make you come.”
His voice was hoarse and demanding. She obeyed him. The sight of Rupert kneeling between her spread legs, her feet still encased in her stilettos, her hands kneading her breasts, and his fingers thrusting under her lacy number was… decadent. Her head jerked backwards and she leaned on her elbows to ease the waves of pleasure through her, savor them, surrender to them.
The orgasm climbed through her, burnt through her and wrapped around her body and soul. She collapsed against the bed, her arms thrown over her head.
“I had no idea, no idea it could be that good.” she confessed in a gasp.
Rupert stopped paying attention to the lower part of her anatomy while he got rid of the rest of his clothes. His erection sprang free, glorious, delicious, all hers. She shivered.
Unclasping the shoe straps around her ankles, he placed aside the stilettos. For the first time since they’d entered the room, the force of emotion made Madison feel exposed. Her arms covered her breasts.
He laid his hands on each of her forearms and slowly unclasped them. “You’re so perfect.” His eyes burnt with desire and obsession. He brushed her hard nipples with his knuckles, caressed his way down to the top of her thighs, then up again. He ignored the lace of her panties and circled her waist in a possessive grip. There was no hesitation in him. He was her man. She was his woman.
“I don’t deserve you, Maddie, but I’ll do my damned hardest so that you cherish the memory of this night… us… for the rest of your life.”
Slowly, he pulled her panties down, shifting her bottom so that the material could slide underneath, then along the length of her legs. He straddled her, settling, hard and pulsing, against her crotch.
His hands cupped her face and his gaze drilled into her. “Tonight will stay with me forever… I want to remember this until the day I die.”
His index finger trailed its way down from her face, to the tip of her breasts, along her ribcage, between her folds. Deliberate kisses touched her closed eyes, her forehead, her nose, her mouth, her chin. While his mouth worshiped her, his finger pumped her. The contrast sharpened the turmoil of emotions inside her.
“You’re so wet and tight. You’ll make me get off so easy,” he groaned, his breath caressing her swollen lips.
While his thumb returned to the spot inside her folds, he entered another finger inside her, stretching her a bit more.
“I’m going to enter you without a condom first… It might hurt less.” He was searching for her approval. “I got tested. I’m clean.”
She was so far beyond thinking. So she nodded. Rupert would never put her in danger.
The head of his erection eased into her. His hips circled around her entrance sending ripples of pleasure deep inside her.
“Ahhh…”
Alarm flashed in his eyes. “Am I hurting you, baby?”
“No, it’s amazing. Don’t freaking stop.” She hadn’t meant to beg, but, heck, she just had.
He chuckled, dropped a kiss on her lips, and pushed deeper.
It did hurt, like a burn, then the pain vanished. Rupert had stopped pressing further. His face was buried in the crack of her neck, and with each one of his breaths against her skin, she let him expand inside her and stretch her further.
When Rupert lifted his face over hers, his eyes glistened and his forehead came and lay on hers, their lips brushing against each other. The words—those three marvelous words—hammered in her head.
“I love you,” she said. There was no tremble in her voice. She wanted him to know, to share herself with him. She didn’t need to hear the words back.
There was a shadow over Rupert’s face. “I’m not sure I believe in God, Maddie,” he shut his eyes, “but the day I met you, He was looking after me. I’ll be forever grateful.”
Rupert grabbed a squared foil from somewhere hidden in the pleats of the sheet, untangled himself from her, and fixed the condom over himself. His return inside her was a relief because she hadn’t breathed the whole time he had been outside her.
His hand lifted her knee and spread her wider to open her to him. The thrusting was a delicious pain, a tantalizing tease. Rupert was silent, the clench of his jaw and the fire of his eyes, the only betrayal of his emotions.
“I’m going to come.” his voice trailed off, and his gaze went blurry.
Their eyes locked.
They could see into each other’s souls. This was why she had been born.
HER TOES SANK into the deep carpet of the room. Her eyes opened. Madison was neither awake, nor asleep.
Grabbing the shirt Rupert had worn earlier that night, she slid into it and buttoned it up. He remained immobile, lost in his sleep.
Around her, objects started moving by themselves. The doorknob turned and the door opened.
Unfamiliar voices whispered words into her ear, their volume increasing and decreasing, until soon the voices morphed into howls. Her feet took the direction of the mezzanine, driven by an intimate knowledge of a place she had never seen.
The temperature dropped and the hairs on her arms rose. Ahead of her, shadows moved against moonlit walls. Were they the outlines of people? Were the people alive, or dead?
<
br /> The smell of melted candle wax flamed into her nostrils, reminiscent of the night at the ball not so long ago.
She had reached the mezzanine. From a hidden corner, her Cavalier— his image at least—shouted a mute warning.
Fear coated her tongue. Danger dried her mouth.
Madison—or was she Sarah?—followed the curve of the banister to stand at the top of the grand staircase, the central point of the manor’s entrance hall.
Peter stood by her side. He took hold of her hand with a steel-like grip.
“You cannot belong to him. It will all be over soon, my love.”
His presence should have terrified her. The void that gaped below her should have made her step back. But she didn’t. Her soul was so tired, she couldn’t fight the battle. The Puritan had taken over her consciousness, numbed her senses. He had won, because she had lowered her defenses.
Longing for the final lethal freedom, Madison spread wide her arms.
“Like an eagle,” he whispered without voice.
Her body weight shifted forward and she began the long descent.
Powerful arms grabbed her waist and dragged her backward to crash with a thud on the wooden floor. The shock stole her breath.
“Madison, Madison. Wake up.”
Rupert’s hands held her head, his thumbs putting pressure on her temples. She had to open her eyes.
“My God, you’re nuts. You scared the shit out of me.”
Judging by the fear on his face, he was telling the truth. Reality returned. She had tried to kill herself.
The mechanism of insanity had clicked in, as she had always feared. Her DNA was claiming her and, soon, she would follow in the footsteps of her ancestors.
Chapter 41
HER BRAIN FUZZY after a morning spent writing her paper, Madison treated herself to a hot chocolate and a slice of pecan pie. The Queen’s Lane Coffee House was cozy, warm and nestled among Oxford colleges.
Bringing the mug to her lips, she shut her eyes, and let the warmth cascade down her throat. She drowned her sorrows in the pillowy texture of the foam-covered liquid. The hum of the frothing machine meshed with her inner thoughts.
So much joy. So much fear.
Her first time with Rupert, her first time, period, had shaken her to the core. But the episode afterward had dampened the magic.
The acrid scent of espresso tickled her nostrils, forcing her to reopen her eyes. She absorbed the crowd around her: their laptops, their books, and the shopping bags hanging from their chairs.
Her heart gave a tiny squeeze at the memory of the roses Rupert had sent her earlier that morning. Red roses, like those he hadn’t managed to give her for her birthday at Freud’s. Grabbing her cell from her front pocket, she keyed a thank-you message:
IF THIS IS MY REWARD FOR SLEEPWALKING I’ll DO IT MORE OFTEN. I LOOOOVE RED ROSES.
That had been her lame excuse for almost pancaking onto the bottom of Magway’s staircase. She couldn’t tell Rupert the whole truth: her obsession with the characters in the painting, swirling fireballs at one, falling in love with another, and her own official stalker.
“Morning.”
In her corner seat, Madison blinked and glanced up to see Pippa standing in front of her, a clasp holding her curly mane in place. Dressed in a bright Grecian maxi dress, she sported an L.A. look that clashed with the near zero temperature outside. That girl had a weird inner thermometer.
“Hi, what’s up?” Madison asked.
“I am soooo hungover, it’s not funny.” Pippa took the seat next to Madison. “But Ollie and I had the best time last night.”
Thanks for the invite.
Pippa scoffed when she saw what was on Madison’s plate. “It’s so unfair. You eat pecan pie, drink full-fat chocolate and stay thin. “
The fat and sugar mixture had upset her stomach anyway, so Madison pushed the plate toward her friend. Pippa didn’t need any further encouragement and started scoffing down what was left.
“Oh dear, you look as if you had a rough morning.”
Pippa’s concern touched Madison. Maybe their friendship could still be salvaged. She shuffled on her cushioned seat, cherry-picking the right words.
“Pippa, we haven’t talked much lately.”
Pippa’s gaze settled on Madison, then flicked away. “Well, it’s been pretty crazy. I’ve had to concentrate on my studies.” She turned toward the chalkboard with the specials. “What else do they have on offer today?” She didn’t want to talk about their relationship, or recent lack of one.
Bullshit.
“I realize that, but we used to be together all the time when I arrived here. I miss you.” Madison wasn’t ready to let it go. “Please, this is important to me. You’re important to me.” She reached for her friend’s hand over the table. “I don’t want men to come between us.”
“Men?” Pippa snapped, the lilt in her voice vanished. She freed her hand and fiddled with her necklace. “Don’t work yourself up. I know this is all kind of new for you, but get over it.”
Pippa couldn’t know about her lost virginity, but Madison blushed anyway. Her hands were now playing with her chocolate cup, as she stared at Pippa. In Madison’s book there was a fine line between honesty and rudeness, and Pippa was close to crossing the line.
“The way I behave with you hasn’t changed since I’ve been with Rupert.”
“Oh, now you’re ‘with Rupert.’” Pippa used her fingers to emphasize the last two words.
“Please get to the point.” Madison’s voice could have restarted a shortcircuited freezer.
Pippa raised her hands in an I-give-up gesture and sighed. “I’m trying to protect you here, sweetie. Ollie keeps saying I shouldn’t get involved, but …”
“Glad to hear you’re debating my love life.” Anger gripped Madison by the throat.
“I’m looking out for you, that’s all. Everyone, not only me, but also Jackson and Ollie, we can all see Rupert is leading you on. You’re already dreaming of bridal couture, while the guy is targeting his next steady girlfriend. He might even get back with that ice cube, Harriet.”
Pippa was punching below the belt. “Anyway, I thought I should say it. I’m sorry if it hurts.” This time, she was the one taking hold of Madison’s hand. “I’m here for you if you need to talk. I like you very much, too.”
Madison looked straight into her friend’s eyes, their sparks familiar once again. Madison didn’t need her friends to approve of Rupert. She was grown up enough to decide for herself. As an act of goodwill, she went to the counter and ordered two more chocolates.
When she was back to their table a few minutes later, Pippa thanked her and asked, “So tell me about the wedding of the Earl of Huxbury.”
Madison was about to deliver a PG-rated version of her night at Magway when her cell vibrated on the table. Rupert.
SORRY, BABY. DIDN’T SEND YOU THE FLOWERS. MUST BE ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR ADMIRERS.
Disappointment filled her heart. He didn’t think to commemorate their first time. Maybe Pippa was right.
Jackson had to be the one who sent the flowers. Madison was close to only three men here in Oxford. If it wasn’t Ollie … he had been with her when she had received the bouquet. And if it wasn’t Rupert, then it had to be Jackson. The only other option, Peter’s accomplice playing a little game, was too scary to contemplate.
Chapter 42
THE RESEARCH HAS been fruitless. We’ll never be able to find Sarah Perkins, based on such info. Female, died 1651 aged seventeen, somewhere in England.” Jackson took a long sip from his coffee mug. “We’ll have to narrow it down to a specific location. We need to know where to start, just as your Archie Black had Norwich to find Anne Alspeth.”
He swiveled on his kitchen barstool, oblivious of Madison’s lack of response and eye contact. She didn’t know how to tell a guy he had no chance, a guy you liked very much, someone you trusted, without sounding bigheaded.
Around her, the room was as spotl
ess as an operating theater: no spilled sugar on the granite countertop, no teabags left in the sink. Jackson’s kitchen was freakishly hygienic.
Madison huddled on her seat and stared through the misted windows. Her tongue wet her lips. The slosh and clank of the dishwasher filled the silence. She swallowed, cleared her throat, “You shouldn’t have sent me those flowers.”
The question stopped his cup midway to his mouth. He tilted his head, eyebrows pulled together. “I didn’t send you anything. What makes you think I did?”
Oops. Where is the shovel for me to dig a big, deep hole?
“It wasn’t Rupert, so I assumed it was you.”
“I see.” He delivered his comment in a flat voice, but Madison picked on an underlying edge. Disappointment? Anger?
His chair scraped the floor and Jackson started pacing about the room. To keep her hands busy, she grabbed her glass of tap water. Its bleachy taste made her grimace.
He planted himself in front of the kitchen stool she was perched on. With his compact size, their eyes were level. She tensed.
“It wasn’t me. But you’re right, it could have been. Hiding my feelings has never been one of my strengths, even my feelings for a student, which is inappropriate.” Emotion—love, pain—broke his voice.
How could she have missed it?
Madison’s cheeks burned and she kept her eyes downcast for a moment. “It’s fine. I don’t want to embarrass you, or myself. We won’t talk about it again. I’m with Rupert, and …”
Jackson waved a hand in dismissal. His body leaned forward, invading her comfort zone. “Vance is dangerous. He’s going to hurt you.” His fingers rummaged through his hair, betraying a deep agitation. “A girl as smart as you should see through him.”
Everybody was making Rupert look like the big, bad wolf.
And she wasn’t Little Red Freakin’ Riding Hood. “My relationship with Rupert is my own business. I don’t want to discuss it.”
Jackson talked over her. “Have you told him about your heritage? Your gift?”
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