by Reid, Stacy
William faltered into remarkable stillness.
Sophia wetted her lips. “I visited the rectory…just needing to see it once more, and to collect mother’s journals and paintings which had thankfully not been thrown away. I visited Hawthorne Park, and the duchess informed me you had gone abroad.” Without saying goodbye.
“How long after you left did you come to the house?”
“Less than two months had passed,” she whispered.
He flinched, the rage in his eyes growing colder. “I did not leave England until about six months after my father died. And she told me of your passing weeks before my father succumbed to the weakness in his heart.”
Sophia gasped, pressing a hand over her mouth.
“I was still here…I must have been in town and my mother…my mother continued her awful deception when you showed up at Hawthorne Park. And we spent almost seven years apart,” he murmured, closing his eyes briefly.
“We spent seven years apart.”
They stared at each other, and in the tense silence the question lingered.
Now that the truth has been revealed, where do we go from here?
“Why are you here, William?” she did not ask how he came to know her whereabouts, for she had long suspected her aunt would defer to William if he had called upon them in Grosvenor Square.
A soft laugh answered her. A wicked glint appeared in his eyes and then he murmured, “I want you.”
Chapter 5
Sophia’s heart pounded a breathless rhythm.
I want you.
That was the last thing she expected him to say.
“I…I…what do you mean?” surely, he did not expect them to start back where they had left off—with passionate kisses, illicit touches, and a belief they would be married? “You are engaged, and I…I…what do you mean?”
He walked over to her in a slow, predatory prowl. “I am not engaged to Lady Miranda. In truth, she is married to my brother Simon.”
“Oh!” oh, why did such sweet relief fill her veins? My silly, wretched heart.
The hunger in his eyes stirred an almost painful, sweet ache deep inside her. It was very different from how he had looked at her at years ago. Then he’d been a young man of twenty-three on the cusp of experiencing all the vices and sin the world had to offer. His kisses had been passionate, yet sweet and so tender, the memory brought a piercing ache of desire into her heart. Now the man who stared at her appeared worldly…jaded…too experienced and untamed.
William stood there seeming so calm, dripping with traces of water-weed in his hair, his clothes ruined by his wild dive into the swollen river. He was still the same young man she had fallen head over heels in love with but he was older and much altered. His presence seemed too powerful and self-assured for her to feel as relaxed as she had used to be in his company. She felt exposed and vulnerable in the need she felt for this man. She had lost so much before; Sophia couldn’t bear the thought of letting him get close to her only to lose him again. She would once again be left behind to bear the burden of the agonizing aftermath of losing someone she loved with every breath in her body.
“I’m not the kind of lady you would wish for as a duchess,” she said softly. “I never was, despite our youthful foolish attachment, and I daresay I will never be considered suitable with the difference in our circumstances.”
His eyes darkened and guardedness settled on his handsome countenance. “I do not believe I mentioned marriage.”
The air whooshed from her lungs, and her cheeks burned in alarmed mortification. A mistress…a lover. He had changed. An odd pain arrowed through her, but also a relief. His pursuit would be one for carnal pleasures only. There would be no expectations she would give up the uninhibited way she lived her life, no fear of his family cutting her, no anxiety that she would never be able to match him in society’s eyes because of her lack of connections or wealth. Yet there was a deep pain which lingered, for in the eyes of the man before her she no longer saw love and tenderness. But a dark hunger and possessive need.
Expelling, a long silent breath, she said, “You wish me to be your mistress?”
His regard was slow and pointedly bold as he perused her body. “My lover…my friend and then we see what the future holds.”
The words were said with such carnal intent she trembled.
Fear of feeling too much and to be reduced to that pitiful person she had been for almost a year rushed through her. “You are outrageous,” she whispered, backing up a few steps. “What the future holds? I never wish to marry…ever.”
A bleakness entered his eyes before his expression cleared. “Then, in the future, we will not discuss marriage.”
Her heart jolted painfully at his assurance. “I’ll not love you again,” she said a bit fretfully.
“Why not?”
“Because when love is lost…the pain…the pain was unbearable. I’ll not endure it again. I refuse to!”
“Then I’ll not ask you to love me.”
A wild fluttering began in the pit of her stomach as she stared at him.
“Meet me halfway,” he demanded roughly. “Kiss me, then tell me you do not want me with a similar intensity…that you do not feel hunger to the know the man I am today, and to learn who I could be. Kiss me…and then tell me I am still only your past and I will walk away.”
Shock froze her, then a wave of heat seized her, making her tremble. Who was this man, commanding her with such arrogance who expected to be obeyed? And why was she so effortlessly captivated? It was as if her feet had a will of their own as they hurtled her body towards him so that she met him halfway. He gathered her in his arms, dipped his head, and kissed her with ravaging passion. The sensual assault was almost too much, but not enough. Sophia tipped onto her toes and twined her fingers through his hair and held him to her as she responded to his kiss with greedy sighs.
The harsh hunger of his groan settled low in her stomach, hot and urgent. His hands threaded into the length of her hair, and he anchored her to him firmly as he thoroughly explored the recesses of her mouth. For the first time in almost seven years, sensations other than grief or emptiness filled her chest. Yet they were so hard to define, and she could only drown under their intensity. A dark, hot lust slid through her veins, slow and heavy, and she trembled under its intensity. She felt like she wanted to crawl into his skin…his heart…share his pain and give him some of hers. It was as if every pent-up need and anguish that had been bottled up tight inside her for the endless lonely years exploded, and with a over-powering sob she arched into him, her tongue tangling wildly with his.
“How can we start a love affair as if seven years does not lie cruelly between us,” she rasped against his mouth, afraid of his answer yet desperately needing it.
His hands were shaking, she realized as he reached out to brush the hair back from her face. “We will take it one day at a time, one kiss at a time.”
His low drawl had her meeting his eyes, and she trembled beneath his sensual gaze.
“I am so very different from the girl you once knew.”
“So am I. We’ll relearn each other…”
“And if we do not like what we discover?”
“We’ll walk away,” he promised. “This will simply be an affair.”
Her heart picked up its rhythm as temptation and unsatisfied desires beat at her. An affair…a taste of passion, a way to ease the terrible loneliness which had encased her heart. And with the boy, she had loved and always admired so ardently. So many needs and wants tumbled inside, waging war with the resolve she’d formed to run away from him until she understood the feelings, he still roused in her.
He cupped her cheek with his other hand, peppering soft kisses over her lips, then down to her collar. “I missed you so damn much, Sophia,” he whispered.
“I missed you too,” she said softly. “Even when I hated you for leaving me alone in my despair. I missed you…ached for you.”
His lips took hers i
n a sweet, fiery kiss that seduced and ravished her completely, leaving her wanting so much more. Her knees weakened until she could hardly stand as his hand curved around to her bottom, holding her against him while his mouth devoured hers with smoldering sensuality.
Somehow, they made it onto the soft verdant grass, and as they tumbled down, their foreheads knocked together breaking their kiss. Sophia laughed against his lips, and when he smiled her heart trembled at the beauty of it.
“I haven’t heard such a lovely sound in years,” he murmured, nipping at her throat playfully.
She wore no corset beneath her dress, and she gasped when he deftly unbuttoned the back of her dress and a few tugs later he bared her to his gaze. Her breasts were swollen, rising and falling rapidly, and her nipples were hard. Bending his head, he seized her nipple between his teeth before laving the sensitive flesh with a tormenting tongue tip. The wet heat of his mouth enveloped the tight bud fully, and she cried out in wanton pleasure.
Everything felt out of control…yet so very right.
William eased from her and shed his jacket, shirt and waistcoat. He remained in only his sodden trousers and boots, but she could not remove her gaze from his marvel of his naked chest, still beaded with river water. “Oh William, you are so lovely,” she murmured, coasting her hand over his arms and down to his tensed stomach.
He groaned under her touch and closed his eyes as he savored every caress.
Lean muscles rippled and twisted, and his deeply tanned skin appeared as if he had spent a lot of time under the sun without his shirt on!
He rose above her, widened her thighs, and settled between them. His hands brushed against her stomach as he undid the flaps of his breeches. William kissed her lips with soft wicked bites, while he reached down and tugged her dress up high to her thighs. She trembled and whimpers of need escaped her as he bit into her throat…right above her fluttering pulse. He trailed his fingers up the length of her leg. Then he explored farther, letting his hand drift up the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. His diabolical fingers slipped between the juncture of her thighs, parted her drawers.
A wild cry tore from her as William slid one long finger slowly into her wet, aching sex, sending bolts of exquisite sensations through her. Hot, drowning pleasure gripped her as he started a slow glide and retreat. He pressed his leg between hers and shifted his foot widening her more to his intimate caress. Her cry was choked off as his fingers pressed deeper and harder, and she sensed he was preparing her for more.
He kissed her with an almost violent passion, slipped one of his arms under her, gripped her buttocks, caging her into the shelter of his arms with his body. She moaned, returning his kiss with wild abandon as he breached her soft opening with his rigid thickness.
He then thrust deeply parting her unused muscles, which clung too tightly, resisting his possession. Shock buffered Sophia’s senses as sensual pain licked at her. He held himself still, kissing her still, distracting her from the pain of his possession. William reached between them with one of his hands, and she whimpered when he found the nub of pleasure and glided his fingers over it in a rough caress.
She screamed into his mouth at the wicked sensation which arched her more into him, sliding his manhood impossibly deeper. So deep, she lost the ability to breathe. Yet now the throbbing pain had eased, and a sharp, unbridled pleasure remained. She shifted her legs, twining one around his hips and the other around his thigh.
He loved her with such fierce passion and Sophia writhed beneath him, lifting her hips to meet his thrusts. Her cries echoed around in the forest, heating the air with their mutual lust, as her arousal build inside to blistering heat.
She clutched his shoulders helplessly and buried her face in the curve of his neck as he thrust into her clenching core with almost mindless fervor.
“So responsive and sweet,” he groaned, snapping his hips even harder.
She clasped his sweat-slicked back and kissed his shoulder too consumed to speak his name, which sat at the tip of her tongue. The sensations rocking through her body were intense, soul-destroying, and then the excruciating pleasure peaked and broke cascading delight through her body.
With a muffled groan and few hard pumps, he emptied deep inside of her shivering body. She could feel the jerking rhythm of his heartbeats against her body. They stayed like that for several moments, until their breathing eased, and her shivering stopped. She watched, fascinated, as his tension slowly eased. William withdrew from her, and she stifled the moan at the sharp ache between her thighs. Sophia’s senses felt overwhelmed by his sensual assault. Her lips felt bruised, her breasts tender, and her heart ached. Their coupling had been fierce, and passionate, and over too soon.
What now?
She did not look down as he pressed what felt like a silken handkerchief between her thighs, or when he gently tugged her day dress down to her feet. There was more rustling, and then he lowered himself beside her, and she noted he had put on his shirt. He turned his head on the grass and they stared at each other, and inexplicably shyness gripped her in its embrace, and she blushed, then she smiled.
“Will you stay with me at Hawthorne Park for a while.”
A thrill coursed through her. “The duchess—”
“Hawthorne Park is my own,” he murmured, brushing a sweat damp lock of her hair from her cheek. “My mother is in Bath and I assure you, I will deal with her duplicity.”
She could not find it in her heart to think kindly of the duchess, but the ring of icy anger in his tone shot alarm through her. “Please, you must remember that she is your mother…and your Christian duty is to love and honor her. Life is so short and fragile that one day she may depart from the world and you will have to live on knowing you parted on bad terms,” she said, familiar grief clutching at her throat.
Knowledge gleamed in his eyes. “Have you forgiven her?”
She closed her eyes. “No.”
“Neither have I. But I will bear your kindness and warning in mind when I see her next. I will not chase her to Bath to demand an explanation when you are right here before me. I feel as if I do not want to miss a day without you.”
Something hot, yet tender, glowed from his dark blue eyes, and that warm sensation once more unfurled in her stomach, “I am still astonished you are here,” she said softly.
He tugged her to his side and curved her into it so that her head was pillowed by his shoulder. “Will you stay with me?”
“For how long?”
“How long does it take to conduct an affair?”
She shifted and tilted her head so she could see his expression, which was one of amused contemplation. “There is a rumor in town that Widow Griffins is Lord Peabody’s lover. Not his mistress for he does not provide her with an income or a house or a carriage. And the rumor says they have been lovers for over ten years!”
The eyes that peered down at her were guarded yet watchful. “And you would be contented with being my lover for years?”
Her breath hitched. “Could you see to it that I never fall with child?”
His flinch was subtle, but she caught it, and her heart started to pound. “William, I—”
“Say no more, Sophia. I understood all that you said before. I’ll not pressure you. And if we are to be friends and lovers for weeks only, or months or years, then we shall be.”
She stared at him astonished, her mind mulling over his sincerity. “Thank you, William. I feel wretched and selfish. I had been thinking about an affair…to ease my loneliness but retain my independence. You have now given me that but I can see in your eyes…feel it in your touch that you want more…a more I will never be able to give,” she confessed achingly.
A decidedly charged tension permeated the air. Would he now say no?
He dragged her up and kissed her with violent tenderness. “I’ll take this, Sophia. If it is only passion you must give…I’ll take it, because anything is better than not having you in my arms.”
Relief
hit her, and with it, a lifting of spirits. With a sob she curled her hands around his neck, kissing him back with reckless desire. Something elusive whispered through her heart and it felt frightfully like the love she’d clung to for him all these years. It lurked deep inside her chest, sweetness, fire, and fear.
And as William twisted with her so her back was pressed on the grass, Sophia admitted for the first time in years that she had never truly stopped loving him.
Dear God, what am I to do?
Chapter 6
Sophia rested her chin on her drawn-up knees and stared at the family’s headstone. Leaning in, she brushed a few twigs and leaves from her sister’s and arranged the flowers, so they did not hide her name. Imogen had reburied her family in the family plot so they could be nearby.
“How are you today, Hetty?” Sophia murmured.
A newfound sense of peace settled inside her as she stared at their graves. It had been slowly happening, and with each visit, the pain had grown less and less until an acceptance had settled in her heart. Now when she visited, Sophia allowed only the happiest of memories to cloud her thoughts, and she fancied her family resided in heaven, a place her father had ardently believed existed.
“William is back.” Then she proceeded to tell her family about the race with Tommy, the archery competition she had entered with some of his friends who had believed her to be a lad at the time…and finally, she confessed to making love with William.
A blush heated her cheeks as she recalled the passionate way they’d fallen onto the grass and what had come next. After kissing her passionately for several more minutes, he had shown enough restraint when they hadn’t made love again. So many emotions had filled Sophia’s chest she had asked him for space, and he hadn’t hesitated to grant it, only asking her when he should send his carriage for her.
