Quincy came awake with a start. “Who? What?” He squinted through the darkness. “M’lord!”
“Yes, Quince, ’tis me. Move now so I can open the door.”
“Aye, m’lord, but she’s barred it.”
“Barred it?”
“With her trunk, I think.”
Christian sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. “She’s a damned stubborn wench.”
“Aye and ’tis rainin’,” Quincy added.
Christian grunted in answer, irritated beyond measure.
“She’ll catch the devil of a chill,” Quincy added plaintively. “Thought I’d climb to the rooftop meself and fix it where she wouldn’t catch the rain, but these rickety old bones wouldn’t allow it, m’lord.”
“I understand, Quince. Don’t worry, she’ll be fine once I get her out of that blasted wing. Now, get yourself back to bed afore you catch the ague yourself.”
Stiffly Quincy rose from the floor, groaning his discomfort.
“Oh... and Quince,” Christian called out, “my thanks to you for watching over her.”
“It was nothin’, m’lord. Slept better out here on the bare floor than I would’ve up there with those two bickering auld fools.”
Christian chuckled. “That bad, eh?”
Quincy’s voice now sounded from the stairway, his tone forlorn. “Aye, m’lord, that bad, it is.” His footsteps stopped abruptly. “Are ye certain ye won’t be needin’ me help, m’lord? I did tell ye the door was barred?”
“You did,” Christian assured him. “G’night, Quince.”
“Night, m’lord.”
Jessie’s shoulders trembled from the cold as the rain drummed its icy fingers upon the back of her head and body. Straining, she listened to the faint mumbling beyond the door and felt only a strange sense of relief at hearing Christian’s voice there.
When the doorknob had jiggled softly only moments before, she’d been wholly terrified. Assuming it was Christian, she’d called out his name, but when he’d not replied, she’d become alarmed. Hearing his voice now, she decided he was not only a knave but he was rude as well!
The voices finally quieted and he again jiggled the knob. She didn’t bother to rise as the door burst open and her trunk went skidding across the floor. Protecting her face from the rain, she huddled into a protective ball, turning away from the door. His footsteps thundered across the wet wood and halted beside her.
Towering over her, Christian told her, his words slightly slurred, “You’re quite resourceful, my love, but ‘tis asinine to make yourself ill merely to spite me.”
Jessie remained silent, but the simple truth made her eyes sting. He knelt beside her, turning her gently toward him, and she closed her eyes. Against her will, tears spilled shamelessly onto her cold cheeks, scalding hot in comparison to the frigid rain that was now striking her full in the face.
Closing his eyes only for the briefest moment, Christian ignored the stirring of his heart. She seemed so very fragile lying there before him, her pale green eyes now open and bright with her tears. Moonlight spilled through the rafters, illuminating the sopping midnight strands of her hair. Damn, but she was soaked to the bone.
He felt entrapped by her gaze, unable to look away. Nor could he find his voice to speak just then. It was her eyes, he acknowledged. They seemed a beacon in the dim light of the room, drawing his gaze even as a moth was lured to the flame. The light of it was irresistible, and he felt suspiciously ablaze this moment. It was not at all an unpleasant sensation, nor was it unfamiliar to him, and he determined that this night might not end so unpleasantly, after all. Droplets of rain glistened upon her flesh, and he had the sudden urge to kiss every last one of them away. He was not about to argue with her, nor would he remain here and make himself ill simply because she lacked the bloody sense to come out of the rain.
Without a word, he swept his hands down to lift her into his arms. She didn’t protest, nor did he bother to explain his intentions. He carried her silently from the room, somehow managing to draw the door closed behind them before sliding the bolt loudly into place.
Cradling her chilled body close to his thundering heart, he bore her through the entrance hall, his breathing labored as he swept her up the stairs to his chamber—though not from the burden of her weight, for she was light as the breath of spring... and her scent more intoxicating than any liquor.
He set her upon her feet on the floor before his bed, uncertain whether to stay or go. Curse her, for even now, after all that had transpired between them, he found himself wanting to play the noble for her.
However... he was anything but an honorable soul, and they both knew that fact well enough, so there was no reason for him to pretend any longer. He was what he was... and she was no longer a virgin besides.
The damage was done.
Lighting a candle to better see her, he placed it upon the nightstand. She was shivering. The pristine white gown she wore dripped with rain, bonded with her flesh, revealing dark nipples to his greedy eyes. “You’re sopping wet,” he whispered.
Jessie nodded, and her tears began anew.
Christian moved a finger to sweep her tears gently away, and Jessie couldn’t find the words to protest as his hand reached for the tiny bow at her throat, then slipped down to the next one, and the next. She felt suffocated by uncertainty. She didn’t loathe him, but how to keep herself from loving him?
Or was it far, far too late for that?
Boldly he slipped her gown from her shoulder, and all she could do was gape at him stupidly, her heart pounding madly. Christian wore no shirt at all, and the light curling hair upon his chest streaked lightly downward to vanish within his breeches. Her gaze slid up to meet his penetrating blue eyes once more. And neither of them moved.
Neither of them so much as blinked.
“You’ve been drinking,” she said, as a flash of white light lit the room and flickered over his swarthy flesh. Her breath caught at the beauty of him, and a burst of anticipation snaked down her spine, shocking her.
“Aye,” he murmured thickly, “what of it?”
Thunder struck somewhere near, resounding throughout the room.
Her voice catching, she whispered, “If you were a gentleman... you would leave... this moment..”
Christian’s hand reached out to grasp her bare arm, in order to draw her toward him, and Jessie felt dazed by that mind-jarring contact. She whimpered, and her lips parted unconsciously for his kiss.
“I think we both know very well that I’m no gentleman,” he said low. His hand then slid to her shoulder and he drew her slowly to him, groaning as the shock of her wet gown touched his bare chest.
Jessie’s heart slammed against her breast. Christian seemed to revel in the feel of her, pressing her immediately closer and clasping her more firmly against him. His hand slipped down to boldly cup her bottom, urging her closer, kneading her flesh feverishly, making her tremble with longing. She felt utterly helpless, dizzy with desire, breathless with anticipation.
And dear God, so very, very much afraid.
Christian was afire, and the sopping wet material of Jessie’s gown was soaking through his breeches. He longed to strip her naked and press her down into his soft bed, fall greedily upon her, ride her like the ruthless ruffian he was claimed to be. But he would not. He placed a hand to her waist, tugging gently at her rain-sodden gown. It slipped down just far enough to expose the creamy flesh of her breasts. He stood as though transfixed by the sight of her for the longest instant, and then his lips descended to her mouth.
His kiss was gentle, coaxing, just a tiny teasing peck, and then another, and another, until her face was finally upturned, her lips trembling, waiting eagerly for more, beseeching him, even. He needed no further urging, he kissed her thoroughly, exploring the depths of her mouth with his tongue.
Jessie’s legs would have given way, but Christian held her steady as his lips trailed searing kisses along her throat... to her breasts. He suckled
them each in turn, lavishing the soft but firm flesh with tender care.
Dropping to his knees, Christian kissed her thighs through her wet gown. His hands clutching at her cool, wet bottom, he drew the V of her body close to quench his burning lips against the rain-soaked gown.
“Nay...” Her protest was a breathless gasp. She tried in vain to pull away, for he held her fast.
Jessie was lost to him once again, but she didn’t care, couldn’t think to care. She quivered with pleasure as his lips worshiped her in places she’d never dreamed a man would want to taste.
He groaned against the wet gown. “You are so blessed sweet…” He buried his cheek against her, and murmured again, “So sweet...” He slid up her body then, rising, stroking her provocatively as he went. He urged her to the bed and lowered her gently down upon it, and then merely stood there, towering over her, gazing down upon her with those fathomless blue eyes, and Jessie felt paralyzed. She swallowed convulsively, but was unable to contain her startle as his hands then slid upward, across the bulge in his breeches, to the top button of his trousers, popping it quickly, impatiently. Then, as she watched, he simply shrugged out of them, never taking his eyes from her as he did.
Her breath caught at the sight of him.
Grinning, he brought one knee down beside her, and the bed sank beneath his weight; then came the other until he was sitting gently astride her, careful not to crush her beneath him. And she continued to stare, both frightened and incredulous, at that peculiar male appendage that confronted her once again, for she vividly recalled the pain he had given her the first time.
Jessie swallowed again as her gaze lifted to his in silent appeal. The candle positioned beside them left one side of his face deep in shadow and bathed the other in golden light, making him appear almost sinister. Lightning flickered for the briefest instant, illuminating his features fully.
One last bow held Jessie’s gown together, and Christian reached for it, his blue eyes dancing with hypnotic fire. Very slowly, he peeled the rain-sodden garment from her body, then tossed it away. It landed with a wet thump upon the bare wood floor.
The fierce determination in his blue eyes sent a shiver down her spine. His lips curving with sensual promise, he lowered them to her body, and again his mouth covered her breast, suckling first one nipple, then the other, and all the while he peered up at her seductively, silently pledging to her things that, strangely, her body seemed to comprehend—and even more, seemed to revel in.
Moving with slow, easy finesse across her flesh, his hands affected her in ways she’d not thought possible. His fingers caressed her as though he would commit every inch of her to his memory, then slid beneath her, to rest between her shoulder blades, lifting her bodily to better taste of her. She quivered as his tongue swept across one nipple, then traced deliberate circles around it, before searching out the other.
She moaned deep in her throat, and Christian drew her closer still, nibbling at her throat languidly. Some tortured sound escaped him then, a hiss that sent gooseflesh racing across Jessie’s skin.
Tears stung her eyes. How could she want this so desperately if she loathed him so much? “Oh, God... I—I d-don’t understand what you d-do to me!”
Between bold, fiery kisses and shocking caresses, he whispered, “’Tis not... so difficult... to comprehend... my love…
Her heart cried out at his endearment. But I am not your love. “You... you don’t love me,” she whispered brokenly. “Nor do I you,” she lied.
Her honesty wrenched his gut.
“Nay, but I want you,” he said, “and at the moment, wanting is quite enough, I assure you.” But was it the truth? he wondered, even as his hands sought the sweet, tantalizing wetness between her thighs. He thrust a finger within her body, preparing her.
“Christian,” she sobbed.
“Don’t talk anymore, Jessamine! Don’t say another bloody word!”
Lord help her, though his words pierced her heart as surely as a blade, she was powerless to resist him. She wanted this. She wanted this so much...
Taking his hand, she guided it boldly to her breast, and then reached out to tangle eager fingers into the crisp hair upon his chest.
Slipping one warm knee between her trembling thighs, he nudged them apart, and then fell upon her, pressing himself slowly into the very depths of her. She was at once swept into a maelstrom of feeling and emotion.
The heated place where their bodies had fused was now the only place she was fully aware of... there and her temple, where his whiskered jaw pressed against her face. His breath was ragged, and dear God, the explosive joining of their bodies made her mad with wanting.
Meeting his powerful thrusts with her own eager ones, she allowed instinct to guide her now. Their bodies met, the rhythm almost as violent as the thunder and lightning ringing in her ears.
Groaning with pleasure, Christian stroked her body with his own, giving her ecstasy in return. And when Jessie’s culmination came suddenly, shattering in its intensity, and she cried out her release, he was shocked to his core by her words.
“Oh, God—I love you!” she sobbed, and her whispered declaration was followed with a tormented moan of pleasure. Then again, as though she could not quite help herself, she murmured obliviously, “I love you...”
Christian’s entire body convulsed violently at her words, but he froze above her, the jolt to his heart painful. She tilted her hips and pressed against him, her body seeming to cry out for more, and again his heart leapt against his ribs.
“Who am I?” He withdrew slightly, and then thrust forward, unable to keep himself from it. The arms that supported his weight trembled and threatened to give. Sweat erupted upon his brow. His voice was strained. “Speak my name—who is it you love?” Her eyes were closed against him.
“You,” she cried out, still undulating softly beneath him. Tears slipped through her sooty lashes.
Thunder cracked, drowning out her voice, but he held her crushed to him as she sobbed, losing his control, even his reason. Still, he needed to hear his name upon her lips, and he dared not stir, not wanting to miss her declaration. Amazingly, despite that he had stilled himself within her, he watched as she came to another soul-consuming completion. The incredible look of bewildered passion upon her face was his undoing.
His hands swept down, seizing her buttocks, and he withdrew almost entirely, thrusting again, almost savagely, burying himself completely into her warmth. His body beset with spasms, he again held fast, needing her sweet words far more than his own release, afraid that she would give them and that he would miss them in the throes of his own white-hot climax.
“Who?” he demanded, losing what was left of his control. He withdrew slowly, torturously. “Say it, Jessie! Say it!”
Lightning erupted, its light brilliant white, but it was his oppressive need that blinded him to his surroundings. In the ensuing darkness, his ears strained to hear her words.
“Christian,” she whispered, and his heart leapt with the booming sound of thunder. Reveling in his victory, he surged forth with such ferocity, such fervor, such glee, that he cried out almost as though in pain. And in that soul-consuming instant, he poured more than his seed into her, he dared to give her everything—God, everything—including his soul.
Chapter Twenty Six
When the storm abated finally, Christian lay, reverently stroking her cheek with the back of his knuckles. He brushed the hair from her face. Through the balcony doors, he could see the sky brighten in the distance, but the sound of thunder never carried to his ears. He thought perhaps it was because his mind was still ringing with her confession. He listened closely, but could hear only her soft breath. She exhaled and it blew gently across the hairs of his arm, sending a delicious chill across his flesh, making him stir yet again. He ignored the insatiable hunger of his body for the yearnings of his heart.
Had he imagined her sweet profession of love?
Ah, Christ—he swallowed, battling the
great sweep of emotion that threatened to crush his chest—he hoped not.
He wanted nothing more than to wake her now and ask her, but he knew she was exhausted and he had no wish for her to sicken from the rain. And then again, he wished she’d never waken, that they could stay thus forever. Because once the morning came, he would have to tell her everything.
Everything.
He wanted nothing more between them—not lies, not half-truths, nothing. Yet, for the first time in his life, he feared the truth. His heart rebelled at the thought of telling her his most damning secret, for it might very well destroy the love between them forever...
Even before it had begun.
He closed his eyes and fell asleep some time later, holding Jessie close... as though to be certain she’d not leave him whilst he slept.
God help him, he couldn’t bear to be without her.
Morning light streamed through the balcony doors, falling short of the massive bed.
Jessie stirred, stretching lazily, smiling, and then, as she seemed to remember, heat stained her cheeks. She opened her eyes to find Christian gazing down into her face, his eyes searching.
“No need to feel ashamed,” he assured her, noting the color that bloomed upon her cheeks. He brushed a dark strand of hair from her face, gently, tenderly, wanting nothing more than to ask her now, but he was, by his own admission, afeared of her answer. Perhaps her love words were nothing more than nonsense uttered during the heat of passion?
And then there was the lie between them.
He couldn’t bring himself to speak the incriminating truth.
“You asked me once,” he said, “why I chose to make Shadow Moss my home instead of Rose Park. I’d like to show you today, if you wish?”
For a moment she said nothing, and then, “I’d like that very much.” Her eyes shone suspiciously.
“First,” he whispered, giving her his most engaging grin, “there is something else I would show you.” If she would despise him... he wanted this one last time... this one last memory to carry him through.
Kissed; Christian Page 22
