by Blue, Andie
By the time the coach pulled up in front of the barn, Sam was standing outside waiting, hoping she looked like the capable young groom and not a woman masquerading as a boy. She hurried forward to assist the coachman, but he shook his head.
“I’ll handle the horses myself,” he said, opening the coach door. “Lady Morgan is very particular about her horses.”
As he spoke, a voluptuous, blue-eyed blonde alighted gracefully from the coach. “Thank you, George,” she told the coachman. “You know me well.” She turned to Sam, frowning. “You’re new here. Did you replace the other groom?”
“No, milady,” Sam said, staring at the ground so that Lady Morgan wouldn’t see the jealousy and hatred in her eyes. This woman was elegant and ladylike, everything Sam knew she could never be. “I’m John’s assistant, Sam. Lord Chattel acquired several new horses so John needed more help.”
“Really?” Lady Morgan asked with obvious interest. “I would very much like to see them. Do you mind showing me?”
“It would be my pleasure.” Sam was curious to know more about the woman, but had never thought she would have this opportunity. “After you, milady.” She indicated the direction of the barn.
They walked into the barn together, and Sam took Lady Morgan to the back stalls where four beautiful new horses resided.
“Oh, they’re lovely,” Lady Morgan exclaimed. She was obviously a horsewoman, truly interested in the animals instead of merely pretending to be.
“Yes,” Sam admitted, thawing somewhat. Anyone who loved horses so much couldn’t be all bad. “Lord Chattel managed to find a perfectly matched team. They’re all three-years-olds, and have excellent strength, speed and temperament.”
“They’re all so beautifully matched,” Lady Morgan murmured, rubbing the nearest one between the ears. “How do you get their coats to shimmer this way? I must know so I can tell my own groomsman.”
“I use seaweed,” Sam replied, happy to be able to share something the woman didn’t already know.
They talked for a while about the horses with Sam describing their virtues and the things they still had left to learn. Lady Morgan focused mostly on the beauty of the new horses.
“Lord Chattel has done a fine job choosing these horses,” Lady Morgan said with a level of pride that made Sam want to scream. The woman obviously already viewed Nico as another beautiful possession. A shiny black stallion to tame.
“Yes, Lord Chattel is very good at choosing beauties,” Sam said absently, lost in the fantasy of shoving Lady Morgan into the water trough.
“My, you are a fresh one,” Lady Morgan said, giving Sam a suggestive look. “Are you sure you’re big enough to take on this kind of job?”
Too late, Sam realized that the woman had taken her words as a personal compliment about herself. Lady Morgan was actually flirting with her! Sam didn’t know whether to be amused or angry on Nico’s behalf. How dare she flirt with a groom when she was supposed to be in a relationship with a man like Nico? No matter how distanced she might be from him at the moment, she could not stand the thought of this woman taking advantage or hurting him in any way.
“Oh, I’m big enough where it counts,” Sam said, with a cocky grin, deciding to see just how far the woman was willing to go.
Lady Morgan smiled and stepped closer, her gaze traveling down Sam’s slim body. Luckily, she wore a jacket and the light inside the barn was fairly dark.
“In my experience, grooms usually talk big but are short on delivery,” Lady Morgan purred and reached out to caress Sam’s arm. Sam wondered just how much experience with grooms the woman had.
“Would you like me to give you a sample of my delivery?” Sam asked, lowering her voice in an imitation of Nico’s husky growl.
“Mmmhmm,” Lady Morgan said, licking her lips and closing her eyes.
Samantha stared at the woman, torn between laughter and exasperation. This had to be the strangest predicament in the world. What did she do now? She had no idea how to kiss like a man. She decided to pretend she was John. Strong and sturdy.
She leaned in, and gave Lady Morgan a short but fairly rough kiss.
***
Nico had heard Anna’s coach arrive, so he’d gone outside, hoping to avoid a confrontation between Anna and Samantha. He certainly didn’t need those two women to meet. The last thing he’d expected was to enter the barn and find them…kissing?
Anger and reluctant arousal pulsed through him as he watched Samantha, in her ridiculous boy’s outfit, locked in a fairly passionate embrace with Anna Morgan. What the hell? He couldn’t fathom how such a thing had come to pass. Though he’d been seeing Anna for some time, she wasn’t the one who roused his jealousy. He didn’t like to see Samantha kissing anyone but him.
“Excuse me,” Nico said, his voice fairly dripping with sarcasm. “Am I interrupting something?”
The two women startled apart, but Anna composed herself quickly, too quickly, as though such a thing had happened to her a million times before. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with, dear. I have news.” She confidently strode over to him, leaving Sam behind without a glance.
“Let’s go get some of those wonderful cakes your cook makes and I will tell you all about it. You will soon be getting your time with the Countess of Warwick—one step away from Prince Edward—to discuss your science.” She breezily took his hand, dragging him out of the barn, while chatting on about the Countess.
Nico fought the urge to look back at Samantha, but decided he would take care of her later.
For the next hour, Nico struggled to contain his frustration and annoyance. He’d accepted a relationship with this woman for her political connections, not her company, but her personality made the association nearly unbearable this afternoon. She babbled on about the party they were invited to and the people who would be there, and he couldn’t help but compare her vapid conversation with the funny, interesting talks he’d had with Samantha.
He had the feeling she was babbling so much because she was trying to keep him too occupied to ask her about the kiss. Fortunately for her, he didn’t care about her end of what had happened. What he really wanted to hear was Samantha’s version of events.
Thankfully, her visit didn’t last long, since she’d merely stopped by during her rounds of afternoon calls.
The moment her carriage departed, Nico stormed out to the barn. He found Sam in the back, mucking out a stall at a furious speed. She had removed her hat, coat and vest and was only wearing a white shirt with the sleeves pushed up and those damned trousers. He paused outside the stall, taking in the sight of her, anger and arousal pulsing through him as he thought about her kissing Anna. She had no right to look so gorgeous and feminine, when she was sweaty and working so hard. She obviously was not wearing a corset today, which he supposed would be difficult to work in. The thin lawn of her shirt molded to her lovely round breasts, the point of her nipples clearly visible.
“We need to talk,” he said briskly.
“What about?” she asked in a defiant tone. She didn’t even look up at him, continuing to rake out the stall as though she were going for a record.
He tried to stifle his frustration. “About your behavior with Lady Morgan.”
“My behavior? Didn’t you notice her behavior?” she asked furiously, still raking.
“Put down that rake and come over here,” he ordered.
She ignored him, still not bothering to so much as grace him with a glance. How dare she ignore him? She should be apologizing or at least giving him an explanation for her actions.
Pushed beyond his limits, he picked up a bucket of water that sat on the ground near his feet and upended it over her head, drenching her from head to toe. She dropped the rake, and gazed up at him in shocked horror, looking like a drowned rat.
“What did you do that for?” she sputtered.
“Obviously you needed cooling off,” he told her grimly.
If anything, the water made her even more arousi
ng. The white shirt really clung to her breasts now, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Beautiful, pink nipples were pressed up against the wet fabric. Her wet hair dripped into her angry eyes as she glared at him.
She picked up the bucket, stomped over to the trough to refill it, and threw it at him, surprising him so much that he couldn’t help but laugh.
“You're the one who needed cooling off,” she said, fairly pulsing with anger. “Can't you handle it that your lover is attracted to me? Your kisses must pale in comparison to mine.”
“She’s not my lover.” In two quick strides, he closed the distance between them. He wrapped his arms firmly around her waist and pulled her to him. “You are so damn frustrating.”
He leaned down and kissed her passionately, letting his hands roam across the wet fabric, toying with her hard nipples.
After several long moments, she broke the kiss and stared up at him, desire and amusement dancing in her lovely green eyes. “Here, let me get that wet shirt off you, my lord.”
He helped her peel the wet fabric from his chest and stood there, shivering a bit as she ran her hands appreciatively across his skin.
“You don't really like women instead of men, do you?” he asked, still confused and needing answers.
She laughed. “If you only knew how much I am enjoying the sight of your bare chest, you would not ask me that.”
Smiling, he leaned down and kissed the slender column of her throat, reaching behind her to cup her delicious bottom through her trousers. He groaned, desperate to make love to her. It seemed as though he’d wanted her forever, but he’d been so good, so much a bloody gentleman it made him want to shout.
Sliding his hands from her bottom up to her chest, he unbuttoned her shirt and parted the two halves, gazing upon her beautiful breasts for a moment before lowering his head and kissing first one, and then the other. She sighed and threaded her hands through his hair, giving him complete access.
Enflamed, he continued to kiss and suckle her nipples while his hands slid down her sides, pushing the trousers down her slim hips until they pooled on the floor at her feet. He put his knee between her thighs, nudging them apart, then touched her cleft, moaning when he realized how wet she was for him.
She gasped and pressed against his hand, arching into his touch, pure fire in his hands. He continued to rub her and kiss her, plunging his tongue deeper into her mouth.
“Nico …” she sobbed, clutching his back as he kept on stroking and teasing her. Then suddenly she cried out, convulsing around him and saying his name.
At that moment, Nico heard another noise that sounded like an approaching horse outside.
Shaking, wanting her so badly he thought he might die, he forced himself to give her one last tender kiss, then stepped away. “We better get dressed,” he told her hoarsely. “I hear John returning, and I don’t want him to find us here like this.”
He left her standing there, looking delectable in her boy’s shirt and nothing else, wishing he had the right to take her to his bed and keep her there.
Samantha pulled on her clothes with trembling hands, unsure whether to cry or throw something. Again he’d given her more pleasure than she’d thought possible, and then just walked away. It was as if the entire thing hadn’t affected him at all. Didn’t he want her?
Somehow, she managed to get through the rest of her day, but her mind whirled with thoughts of him and what had passed between them that afternoon. He’d had so many chances now to make love to her, yet for some reason he always pulled away. Was there something wrong with him or did he still think he was protecting her? Did he see her as some innocent virgin who wasn’t to be trifled with?
First of all she wasn’t a virgin. She’d been married. And yes, if people were to find out everything that was going on here she would most likely be shunned. But none of those thoughts stopped her from wanting to be with him.
When she finally returned to her room, she’d thought about it enough to come to the conclusion that he did want her. She wasn’t sure why he kept holding back, but perhaps the time had come to take matters into her own hands. She slowly changed into her nightgown, lost in thought. She closed her eyes and pressed her face against the cold windowpane, remembering the “penalty” she’d had to pay when losing to him in Chattel.
There was no reason why she couldn’t turn the tables on him. What if she tied him up this time and had her own wicked way with him? A smile curved her lips and she stepped away from the window, searching the room for something that would work to restrain him.
She finally settled for the fabric ropes that held back the curtains. Before she could change her mind, she took a deep, calming breath, then opened her door and slipped out into the hall.
No one was about, thankfully, because she would have had a hard time explaining herself were anyone to question why she was sneaking around in the dead of night in her nightgown with two silken cords.
When she reached Nico’s room, she saw a light shining from under his door. He was still awake. She didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. She’d envisioned tying him up while he was sleeping and then waking him up so sensually that he wouldn’t question her.
When she let herself in, she found him reading in bed, bare-chested like before. Before he could say anything she put her finger to her lips to silence him and quietly closed the door.
He looked at the rope in her hands with a questioning glance as she approached the bed. “Have you come to strangle me, my dear?”
“Shhh. Give me your hand.”
He complied with a curious and challenging look in his eyes. She proceeded to tie his hand to the bedpost.
“Nice slip knot. Do you mind telling me what you are doing?”
“Other hand, please,” she said, smiling at his compliment. She was actually quite proud of her knot-making abilities and was glad he wasn’t protesting. He watched her with a speculative, passionate gleam in his eyes as she tied his other hand to the bedpost.
“Now what are you going to do to me?” he asked, lifting one dark brow in challenge.
“I’m sure you’re familiar with this procedure. I haven’t forgotten the treatment I received against your windows.”
He laughed softly. “Turnabout is fair play, I suppose.”
She grinned and slowly pulled back the blankets, revealing his naked body in all its glory. Although she had seen her Henry’s naked body, it had been soft and mushy, nothing compared to what laid before her.
Instinctively she knew that few men looked like this. Nico’s body was a work of art, with all that dark, beautiful skin. His chest was chiseled, his waist lean, and his thighs were heavy with muscle. Her gaze drifted over him, focusing on his manhood, which sprang from a bed of dark curls, huge and thick against his stomach.
“Like what you see?” he asked cockily.
She nodded mutely, and slowly pulled her nightgown over her head. Totally nude, she stood trembling before him for a moment, letting him look his fill before returning to the bed and sitting down on the edge of the bed beside him. His smile faded as she reached out and placed her hand over his heart. It pounded rapidly, letting her know he was not as relaxed about the matter as he’d have her think.
Holding his gaze, she ran her fingertips across his chest, learning the feel and shape of him. His skin warmed to her touch, and his breathing accelerated. Encouraged, she let her hand drift lower, teasing him by avoiding the area she wanted the most to touch. Instead, she smoothed her fingertips over his waist and thighs.
He stifled a moan and closed his eyes. Loving the thought of being able to make him lose that icy control, she finally closed her hand over his thick length, gasping a bit at the sheer heat and heft of him. He clenched his hands into fists, pulling a bit at his restraints, his big body straining beneath her as she explored his silken shaft.
“Samantha, you’re killing me,” he moaned at last.
“Tell me what you want,” she demanded
, thrilled that she’d finally pushed him past his limits.
“You know what I want,” he growled.
“I want you to say it.”
“I want to make love to you.”
“Oh really?” she murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to the very tip of him. “Well, you could have fooled me, all this time, with the way you always torture me and then walk away.”
“Please,” he groaned, thrusting his hips in an obvious attempt to deepen the contact.
She lifted her head and let her breasts trail across his chest. “You’ll have to make a promise to me first.”
“Anything.”
“No more Lady Morgan.” Until she said the words, she had not really realized how much the thought of him with someone else bothered her. She wanted to be the only woman in his life. She wanted that desperately.
“Yes, I promise,” he agreed readily. “No more Lady Morgan.”
She stared at him, surprised by his easy acceptance of her request, wondering if he truly meant it, or if he was just so lost in the throes of passion he’d promise her anything.
“Please, Samantha,” he implored. “I do want you. I always have.”
She stretched out at his side, lowering her mouth to his for a long, passionate kiss, while she stroked his rigid length, learning the tempo that pleased him most by the deep sounds he made as she varied her touch.
At last he broke away, gasping, his dark eyes burning with desire. “Climb on top of me,” he instructed.
Feeling a bit awkward, she did as he instructed, inhaling deeply as his hard, hot length pressed against her swollen core, nearly slipping into her dampened center. She leaned down to kiss his neck while rubbing against him.
“Put me inside of you. Please,” he murmured.
Half mad with arousal, Samantha thoughtlessly obeyed. She gasped as she took him inside of her, slowly at first, her wetness making it easier to go deeper than she would have ever thought she could. For a moment she remained still, adjusting to the thickness, the incredible fullness.
