He looked down to where her hand touched him. “Perhaps I understand better than you think, pet,” Michael nearly whispered. “But that is enough of this talk for now. Especially when we can be doing far more pleasurable things together.”
“It is?” She looked up at him, once more surprised to see that his eyes had changed yet again. This time, however, there was no darkness. Instead, there was a raw hunger in them. Hunger for her, unless she missed her guess. Oh, Lord! Let it be so!
“Yes. It is.” He pulled her closer, so close that she could feel the delicious heat of him once more. “But I think you know that. For all of your rash behavior at times, you are no addle-brained nitwit, pet.”
“Nor am I an experienced woman, just so we are clear on that point,” Aria added tartly, deciding it was time to act. Something was happening between them now. It would be wise not to waste the opportunity to begin her seduction, no matter how afraid she was. “But I could be. With the right man to teach me.”
Michael’s breath caught, as if he finally understood that they were, indeed, both speaking of the same thing. “Is that what you want? Truly?”
This was her chance. Aria suspected that if she asked Michael to ravish her, he would. Of course, there was also a possibility that he wouldn’t. He was, after all, extremely honorable. Either way, she would not know unless she asked.
“I would like to be kissed,” Aria finally confessed. “A real kiss and not a short peck on the cheek.” She blew out a breath. “I want to be kissed as a man would kiss a woman he desired. For now, that is beginning enough.”
A slow, almost languid smile spread across Michael’s face just then. “Then that, pet, is something that I can provide. In fact, it would be my pleasure.”
Whether those words meant that he truly desired her or not, Aria did not know. And a part of her did not care. For when Michael pulled her into his lap and buried his hands in her hair, she ceased to think about anything other than the way he was making her feel.
Sensations unlike any she had known before shot through her body, spiraling outward from her core to make her arms and legs tingle as if they were on fire. Her fingers itched as he looked at her with what surely had to be desire, his gaze heated as his fingertips stroked her scalp gently.
“So beautiful, pet. Far more than you could possibly know or understand.” Michael’s voice was low and deep, and it made Aria tingle inside, down low at her most secret of places. She wanted to whimper but she was afraid that if she did, he would pull away. She didn’t want that. She wanted more. She wanted whatever he was willing to give.
She had planned to seduce him but just then, it seemed as if he was seducing her. Best to press on then, was it not?
“You have seen me, Michael,” she whispered, placing her hand on his chest, feeling the strong and steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. She could not see the darkness that lurked within him just then. However, did not a form of that same darkness lurk in her as well? It did, she supposed. But it didn’t matter. He lived. So did she. For the moment, that was all that mattered. “All of me. You know that I am not beautiful. I am little more than skin and bones.”
He moved his hands to cup her face, his thumbs tracing lazy circles over her cheekbones. “I have seen and, God willing, I will see again. All of you, if the fates allow. If you allow. You are still beautiful, Aria, and will only become more so again as you recover. It is little wonder that your wretch of a cousin wants you for himself. How any man could see you and not desire you is well and truly beyond my comprehension. And I am far from a stupid man.”
Michael’s words crashed into Aria’s mind, the true meaning behind what he said becoming a jumbled mess in her brain. She tried to process his words as quickly as she could, but her thoughts were lost the moment he lowered his lips to hers and pulled her close for her first ever true kiss.
And what a kiss it was.
In fact, kissing Michael was something of a revelation, for Aria had no idea that the press of lips on a body could feel so absolutely divine.
At first, it was merely a brush of Michael’s lips against hers, light at first but then harder. As if he was barely containing his hunger for her. Another brush that was harder still as he pulled her more firmly against him, so firmly that she could feel her nipples begin to pebble with need. Then his lips were on hers, nipping and caressing, begging for something that she did not know how to give but wanted so very desperately to take from him instead.
Michael placed light, whisper soft kisses at the corners of her mouth, his lips flitting over hers in a sensual dance that she was only just learning. He kissed the tip of her nose and then her chin before seizing her mouth roughly in another hungry kiss, his lips warm and firm and so much stronger and demanding that she could have ever imagined. He was asking for her surrender and she had no choice but to give it.
Aria moaned. She could not have prevented the sound from escaping her if her life depended upon it. She felt his tongue then, hot and questing, tangling and mating with hers in imitation of the dance her body hungered for eagerly. Tentatively, she traced the outline of his lips with her tongue and was rewarded when Michael shifted her in his lap so that she straddled his hips, their bodies moving in time to the hunger of their mouths. Her hips pressed hard against his so that she could feel the proof of his desire for her.
This kiss was all-consuming, and Aria lost track of everything but the glorious sensation of Michael’s mouth on hers, the pure desire she felt in his touch and the way her body arched against his, seeking to be closer. Her mind was filled with thoughts of nothing but this man. Nothing else existed, just the heat of him, the smell of bay rum and sandalwood that teased her nose, the way his warm skin felt soft and yet somehow just a little rough beneath her hands.
Then he shifted her again, his mouth hungry and demanding and Aria lost herself completely. He rained kisses down on her jaw and her cheeks, he sucked and bit at the tender flesh of her neck, tracing the veins there with the tip of his tongue before he moved back to her mouth, eager for more. She gave all that he asked of her, would have willingly given him everything had he asked.
And she was not afraid. For the first time in her life, Aria thought about the sensual and the sexual and what it would truly mean to give her body to a man. But only this man. For he would not hurt her. She trusted him with not just her life but with her very soul. She could not explain the how and the why, nor did it matter. His touch conveyed everything she needed to know. Here, finally, was a safe place to rest for as long as he would have her.
Given the way he was kissing her, she hoped and prayed that was a long time indeed.
Chapter Eleven
He had kissed her. He had kissed her as if he wanted to fuck her. Which he did. As soon as possible.
As Michael watched Aria scurry about Thornfield Grange directing his staff in the hanging of greenery, he kept coming back to the inevitable conclusion that he needed to bed Lady Arabella Whitmore as soon as possible. And because of that, he must be as mad as her cousin claimed Aria was. For bedding her would be akin to playing with fire – at least if that kiss was even a tiny indication of the passion that sparked between them.
He hadn’t expected that Aria would be so passionate in her response to his kiss, but Michael supposed he should have been. He had seen her watching him with those seductive eyes of hers. She might have been an innocent, but she was far from ignorant. She might not have given much thought to bed sport in the past, but she knew what went on between a man and a woman. And she wanted that intimacy – with him.
Whether it was out of gratitude or true desire that she wanted him, Michael could not say, but it also did not matter. He wanted Aria just as much. If not more. So he would have her. When the time was right. At this point, he had at least until Christmastide and possibly longer to decide when to bed her. Though if his overly randy cock had any say in the matter, he would take her sooner rather than later. Not that he had any objection to such a thing.
He doubted Aria did either.
She had pulled back from his kiss in the conservatory with wide eyes and heaving breasts, obviously just as aroused as he was. Had Aria been another sort of woman, Michael had no doubt that she would have led him straight to his bedchamber and allowed him to have his way with her. But she was not that sort of woman. She was also still recovering her health and it was evident that while her passions had been stirred, her body was still a bit weak.
Michael was no fool. He knew they had sat back down on the conservatory bench because Aria’s legs would not support her. She had only been out of bed for a few days and she was still rather weak. Her leg injury was healing but she was hardly ready to undertake a full day’s worth of activities. Then again, had they not returned to the bench, he might not have kissed her and that would have been a true pity – for he had wanted to kiss her from the first and was thankful he had finally been given the opportunity.
He also knew that Aria believed she was seducing him. Oh, she hadn’t said that, certainly, for she was too much of a lady. However, he could tell by her choice of words, the things she had said and the way she had moved that she wanted to seduce him. Again, whether she hoped to gain his continued protection by offering him her body or because she truly desired him, he couldn’t be sure. If given the choice? Well, Michael wanted Aria to desire him for himself and not for the shelter her provided her.
If she were a sane woman, she wouldn’t want him, especially if she ever found out about the nightmares that had plagued him ever since the war. However, he doubted that whatever lay between them would ever come to that. Oh, he would wed her if necessary, though he doubted that the situation would ever call for such drastic measures. However even if he did take Aria as his bride, it was unlikely that they would share a bed for longer than the time it took to fuck. Michael had never passed an entire night with a woman in his bed and he had no desire to start now. Not even with one as perfectly delectable as Aria.
“Just a little more draping up there!” the woman in question called out to Markham who was trailing around after her like a lost puppy. Indeed, the man was thoroughly enraptured by Aria, though Michael could hardly blame the man. Michael himself was little better when it came to the charming minx.
After their kiss in the conservatory, Michael was thankful that he and Aria had both taken the time to set themselves to rights before venturing outside of the secluded hideaway. For the moment they had emerged into the hallway, they were pounced upon by both Mrs. Lambert and Markham who were only too eager to inform them that the greens were ready for hanging.
In a way, Michael supposed he should be grateful to his staff for their appearance. Had they not been standing in the hallway, there was a very good chance that Michael would have damned the consequences and hauled Aria off to his bedchamber and been done with things. After all, there were worse ways to spend a chilly December afternoon than in between the creamy thighs of a willing woman. And Aria had made it clear that, despite her lack of experience, she was willing. More than willing.
However, Michael’s staff had been standing there and looking as if they knew precisely what he and Aria had been about in the conservatory. And because of that, both Michael and Aria had trudged into the main hall where the greens had been laid out, ready to be hung.
Michael also suspected that Aria might also feel the tiniest bit guilty over the kiss, for she had thrown herself into the decorating with almost unbridled enthusiasm and now had his entire household staff busy hanging, decorating and creating all manner of things to help celebrate the Christmastide season. Even Mrs. Atkins, the elderly widow of Michael’s former field commander was happily assembling a kissing ball or bough or some such thing and laughing with one of the upstairs maids. He couldn’t remember the woman ever laughing, though he was certain she must have in the time before her husband died on the battlefields of Spain.
However, she was laughing now, not to mention obviously enjoying herself. As was the rest of the staff. Most of them were humming different tunes, a few of them familiar holiday carols, as they hurried to carry out Aria’s instructions. Even Mr. Pike, the notoriously cranky stable master, was teaching the scullery maids how to make bows out of red velvet ribbon that had likely been unearthed from somewhere in the attics. His attics really could use a good cleaning, Michael supposed, since just about anything anyone could wish for was to be had up there somewhere.
And in the middle of the controlled chaos was Aria, a smile on her well-kissed lips and a twinkle in her eye that told Michael she was still aroused from his attentions earlier. She was handing out cups of hot, spiced cider that someone had brought up from the kitchens, heedless of the fact that she was a lady and the others the servants.
Michael supposed this was likely how she had been when she lived on the sugar plantation. Though he knew only a little of what life was like there, he knew enough to understand that the lines between servant and master were sometimes blurred. Aria had commanded the plantation by herself for nearly a year and he had no doubt that she had behaved exactly this way, doing whatever was necessary to see a task accomplished, regardless of her position.
It was little wonder her cousin Felton wanted her for his own. What man in his right mind would not want to keep such a bright spirit for themselves? However, Michael knew that the man meant to break Aria, force her to become his servant in the bedchamber. If Felton Bowels ever got his hands on Aria, he would destroy her. Therefore, Michael could never allow that to happen.
“You’re smiling, Dr. Michael. The expression looks good on you.” Michael had been so intent upon observing Aria that he hadn’t noticed Mrs. Lambert – who had finished threading a greenery rope through the grand staircase banister – come up beside him. “And I suspect we all have your Lady Aria to thank.”
“She is not my Lady Aria,” Michael responded without thought.
“But you want her to be,” the housekeeper replied knowingly. “She could be. All you need to do is ask.”
Michael shook his head, not wanting to discuss this just now. “I would never tie her to someone like me. Someone damaged.”
Mrs. Lambert snorted in obvious disgust. “We are all damaged in some way, Doctor. Make no mistake. She is as well, though not on the outside.”
“Aria will recover her health quickly. She is young yet. Perhaps too young.” Michael knew he was being deliberately dense.
“I’m not talking about her health or her age, and you know it,” the older woman retorted. “Life damaged her in some fashion, just as it damaged all of us. Anyone who has lived more than a half-decade is damaged in some way. It is simply the way of things.” She paused. “And she is the perfect age for…certain activities men of your age and of your wealth should be considering.”
Ignoring his housekeeper’s somewhat inappropriate hints about begetting heirs, Michael reached up to trace the line of his scar that ran near his eye. “She would not want me if she knew about the nightmares. No woman would.”
Mrs. Lambert tisked in disapproval. “You don’t give her enough credit. Any woman strong enough to sneak out of her home and try to walk across England to the safety of her aunt’s rather than become some man’s mistress or a Bedlamite is strong enough to handle the likes of you. You are not nearly so scary as you imagine.”
Was his housekeeper right about that? Could Aria handle the darkness that still lived within him? Michael wanted to believe the other woman, but he could not be certain.
“Perhaps,” he finally admitted a bit grudgingly. Still, a part of Michael urged him to do the right and proper thing. He needed to end this insanity before it went any farther. Before it was too late – if it wasn’t too late already.
“No perhaps about it,” the housekeeper snapped. “Be careful not to lose her, Michael. I have a feeling the likes of her will never come around these parts again, and she is what you need, whether you know it or not.” Then she shook the clumps of mistletoe she still held in her hands. “Now if you will
excuse me, I have a manor house to decorate. For the first time in years, and I do not lie when I say that I find this rather enjoyable.” Then the older woman was gone in a swish of skirts.
Aria must have noticed the housekeeper’s departure for she quickly came to Michael’s side. “Is something amiss?” she asked worriedly. “Am I giving too many directions? I know they are your servants, and I merely a guest, but I thought…”
Michael hushed her with a wave of his hand. “No, it’s not that.” Looking around, he was satisfied that his staff was otherwise occupied before taking her hand. “Come with me, pet. There is something we need to discuss. Now.”
He was thankful when Aria didn’t ask questions but instead followed him as he made his way through the manor until he reached his study. Here was the one place in the house where he felt as if he could speak freely without anyone listening in.
After ushering Aria inside and locking the door behind him, Michael turned to her ready to tell her that whatever was happening between them needed to end before his staff got any more ideas in their heads and before his cock became any stiffer. Except that the words died on his lips the moment he saw her standing before the roaring fire in the hearth.
She simply looked so…right. And so tempting that he wanted to lay her down on the floor right there and have his way with her.
Backlit by the fire, Aria’s golden skin glowed with a robust health it likely hadn’t possessed in some time. Her hair was burnished copper by the firelight and she looked as if she was an angel surrounded by a heavenly glow. Her body’s curves were accentuated by the glow and he could see the outline of her breasts through the thin fabric of her gown.
She looked like every fevered dream he had ever had come to life, a flesh and blood woman tailor-made for him to slake his desires.
At that, all of his good intentions flew from his head and Michael knew he had to possess her – and soon.
Christmas With a Scoundrel Page 12
