Kiss the Wallflower: Books 1-3

by Gill, Tamara

  He knew that better than anyone.

  “No you will not.”

  Her breasts rose with each of her labored breaths and he fought not to glance at her bodice. “You must sleep with me. The marriage must be consummated, otherwise I see very little point in continuing this charade. An annulment would be better than this.”

  His fingers slid about her arms, slipping down to her elbows. His body hardened at the idea of bedding her. If she was as passionate in bed as she was when arguing with him, bedding her was not a good idea. He could get used to heat between his sheets. But she did make a good point. He had to consummate the marriage if he were to keep her.

  He thought over her demand, knowing he had little option. She was his wife. He must at least sleep with her once. Nothing would come of it, he would make sure of that.

  “Very well. I’ll come to your room this evening.”

  Her mouth popped open on a small gasp and he tore himself away, striding from the room before he took her blasted delicious mouth and lay claim to her. There would be minimal kissing, no affectionate pets or words. He would keep her at a distance. Distance meant safety. She would not wheedle her way into his heart. She may have everything else that she desired—her siblings, clothing, food and jewels—but not him.

  Never him.

  Chapter 9

  Louise bathed and dressed in one of the new silk shifts that Mary had helped her pick out the other day while shopping. She sat at her dressing table, dabbing a small amount of jasmine scent on the underside of her jaw.

  She caught herself in the mirror, her eyes uncommonly large and startled almost. The thought that tonight she would sleep with Lord Graham was almost too unbelievable to believe. He was London’s most coveted rake. An unpardonable flirt. And he was her husband.

  However was she going to be enough for him?

  The idea that after tonight there would be no more nights was not acceptable. After her parents had passed away, leaving her to care for her siblings, she’d wanted to give them the family they craved. Now she could do that. Help them find their future paths, whatever that may be, become a mother herself and love unconditionally.

  She’d silently hoped that her move to York may prove to be the stepping stone to such a life. To be the mistress of her own home, beholden to no one. In a way she was that now, although where she’d hoped for love, and respect in her marriage, she’d received a hasty wedding to a man who could not be in the same room with her longer than ten minutes.

  Louise rose from her chair and went over to her bed, staring at the linen that had been pulled down for her in preparation for sleep. She climbed in, settling the blanket about her waist and stared at the door that led to the marquess’s room. Not one sound came from the chamber and she chewed her lip, wondering if he was preparing himself. Was as nervous as she was.

  Never in her life had she ever been so intimate with a man, and although Mary did tell her of some of the things that happened between a husband and wife, a lot of the time her friend had simply looked dreamy and declared that Louise would enjoy it. She would see.

  At a time like this, doubts plagued her. To enjoy such a thing seemed an odd thing to do, and yet, Mary had insisted all would be well.

  The door opened and the breath in her lungs seized. His skin was darker than she’d thought it would be, sun kissed and warm looking in the candlelit room. Her eyes devoured him, took their fill as he stood still and unmoving at the door.

  Corded muscles flexed as he stepped toward the bed, his breeches the only article on his person and she remembered to breathe lest she gasp.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, his tone business-like and cold. It wasn’t a tone she wanted to hear and Louise steeled herself to change his mind about them, about their marriage. Although she was unsure why he pushed her away—the idea of a family and life—she would find out the reasons and she would battle against his walls.

  This was their life now whether they wished it or not and she would do everything in her power to make it as best as could be. There may never be love between them, but there would be respect and affection.

  She would have nothing less.

  Luke bit back the curse upon seeing Louise lying in wait upon her bed. Her large eyes ran over him and he stilled, feeling her inspection of him as if her fingers had slid over his body. Touching every ounce of his flesh.

  He strode over to her with a determined stride that was by far the opposite of how he was feeling. Louise was a pretty little thing, and tempted him to take his time with her, to touch, and kiss, taste and explore more than he’d planned.

  But no. He would not. Such a path would only lead to pain and he’d suffered enough of that emotion to last him two lifetimes.

  The candle beside the bed flickered and he reached out, snuffing it with his thumb and forefinger. The fire bathed the room in golden light, and since this was Louise’s first time with a man, the shadows may help in relaxing her. Not to mention, the less he could see of her the better for him.

  He leaned down and, taking her face in his hands, kissed her. He wasn’t a brute after all, and he didn’t want her to suffer any more pain than was necessary. And yet, the moment his lips touched hers he’d known it for the mistake it was.

  Her mouth mimicked his and shot fire through his blood. Her hands, tentative at first, but then more bold slid up his chest to clasp his shoulders. Luke came over her, pinning her onto the bed and kissed her deeper still. Slid his tongue into her mouth and lost himself for a moment to the sweet taste that was his wife.

  He’d silently hoped she would’ve balked at his touch. Demand that she wasn’t ready and that he should leave. His head spun at her soft, needy gasp and returned kisses. She wanted this. She wanted him. More than he’d bargained for.

  The softness of her breasts brushed his naked chest, and frustration rode him. He needed to feel her skin. Taste and savor it for this one night. He clasped the hem of her nightdress, sliding it up her body. She sat up a little as he wrenched it over her head, breaking the kiss only a moment as he came back down onto her.

  This was not what was supposed to happen. She was not supposed to respond to him. He was not supposed to respond to her…

  Luke groaned, giving up his fight against his own desire for the woman beneath him. One night of mutual pleasure would satisfy his duty to her as her husband. After that, they could continue as husband and wife in name only.

  His response to her was the same as all his responses to women whom he lay with. A small voice mocked him on his thought.

  No it was not.

  Louise kissed her husband back with as much passion as she knew how. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, slipping around to clasp his nape, hold him against her as he continued to kiss her as if she were the only woman in the world he wanted.

  It was a sweet dream, and one she wasn’t silly enough to believe. Not yet at least. But she would change his mind about them. A marriage, even if the couple did not come together in the traditional way, still stood a chance of happiness.

  Surely he must see that.

  They were certainly getting along well enough in this area if she were to think so boldly. Louise gasped, pushing herself into his hands as his palm molded her breast, his finger sliding over her nipple and spiking liquid heat to pool at her core.

  Oh yes, she liked that very much.

  Never before had she thought being with a man in such a way could be this intoxicating. His clever touch made her shivery and achy in places she’d not known could shiver and ache and it only left her wanting more.

  Even her nakedness did not frighten her as she thought it would. His hand slid down her ribs, across her stomach and then lower still. With a wantonness borne out of years of yearning for what so many about her had—a husband, a lover—she parted her legs and let him touch her where she ached most.

  His fingers slid over her most private of places and she moaned, pushing and lifting herself against him. Her body shook, a kaleido
scope of feeling and over-sensitized nerves that longed for something just out of her grasp. He teased her toward it, led her near and then took it away and she wanted it back. Craved it like a bee craves nectar.

  “Luke,” she gasped as he slid a finger into her body. She should be shocked at her response to him, but how could she be when it felt so right? So delicious, warm and tempting.

  His kisses, hot and wet skimmed her cheek, her neck until he reached her shoulder. “You’re so tight, Louise,” he whispered against her neck, the warmth of his breath teasing her further until she wasn’t sure what to do with herself.

  “I want you,” she admitted. For years she’d watched the gentlemen of the ton from afar, longing to be the woman they asked to dance, to court and flirt with. Instead, she’d been the invisible lady’s companion, a wallflower never to be plucked.

  Not anymore.

  Of course to have fallen into marriage with him had not been ideal, his dislike of her was palpable at times, but now that she was married to him, she would seize the opportunity to make him see her finally.

  See past his lofty title to the woman he married. Make him see that although she was common, without any monetary value for his family, she was priceless, just as anyone was, no matter their background.

  The security marrying the marquess had given her and her family was a gift she’d not thought to ever have. And she would not squander it. She would nurture and protect it as much as she could. Try and regain their lives without living under the possibility of poverty if something disastrous happened. Give her siblings the stable future they’d always deserved.

  Luke moved and settled between her legs, lifting one to rest about his hip. He rocked against her, her core embarrassingly wet and throbbing. She mewled in protest when he removed his hand from there and replaced it with his body. The rigid mass of his penis pressing against her brought forth another new and delicious need to coil through her blood.

  Louise lifted her other leg, hooking them both about his back. He groaned and seized her mouth in a punishing kiss, his hands fumbling between them and ripping at his breeches.

  And then he was pushing into her. Breaching her body and conquering her as was his right. As was her wish. A stinging pain, quick and sharp, took place as he moved into her and then there was only pleasure. Delicious, wonderful pleasure.

  He rocked into her, filling her and pushing her toward more of what she craved. With each stroke he hit some special little nubbin inside of her that ached and longed for more. Louise ground herself against him, wanting more, quicker, deeper, faster.

  “Damn, Louise,” he growled against her lips. “So good,” he gasped.

  She clung to him, their movements frantic and hard. Her fingers scored down his back, helping him to take her, wanting him to finish whatever it was that he was doing to her.

  And then it happened. Her core convulsed into spasm after spasm of pleasure. Louise cried out, throwing her head back against the bedding and arched her back, allowing the marvelous feelings he evoked in her to overcome her senses, fill and enflame her.

  Luke stilled above her, her name spilling from his lips before he pulled out. He pumped his shaft upon her stomach and she watched, entranced, at his body’s reaction to her.

  Louise lay back onto the bed, spent and satisfied, her bones like liquid beneath her skin.

  He came to lay beside her, his face turned toward hers and she reached out, unable not to touch him. Would it always be like this between them? She never knew couples could find such pleasure, and now that she’d tasted what Luke could do to her, well, it left her wanting more.

  His hand came over hers, holding it against his cheek, before he frowned, removing it. He sat up and slid across the bed, quickly donning his breeches and walking back toward his room.

  “You’re leaving?” she asked, sitting up, heedless of her nakedness. After what he’d just done to her, how he’d made her feel, she would walk about naked every day so long as he did such a delicious thing again.

  Make love to her…

  “Goodnight,” he said, pausing at the door.

  She watched him, hoping he’d turn and look at her. Change his mind and come back and do more of the same. They were married after all. There was nothing wrong with a husband and wife taking pleasure from each other.

  Giving and receiving.

  He wrenched the door open and quickly stepping through to his room, slammed it shut, the sound of the key turning the bolt home loud in the quiet night.

  Louise sighed, a shiver of disappointment stealing over her skin. What they had done was a start, she reminded herself. The first step in moving forward as man and wife. Luke had not wished to marry, and it would take time and patience for her to win him over.

  But she would and she would not scuttle off to the country to hide and disappear from his side. No. Being in London would give her the opportunities to show him he could be happy with her. If only he’d allow himself to be.

  And he would be. One day.

  Chapter 10

  Over the next week Luke had gone out of his way to avoid Louise. His wife. The demure lady’s companion who had turned into a hellion the moment he touched her. He sat at his desk in his room, twisting the quill between his fingers and wondering how the hell he’d lost all control the night they’d consummated the marriage.

  The memory of her welcoming body, her bold kiss and reactions to his touch shot heat to his cock. It twitched, ached, and had damn well been quite the nuisance this last week. Whenever he’d smelled jasmine he’d looked to see if she was near.

  If he heard her laughter in the halls of his home, he’d wanted to seek her out and see what was so funny.

  He was damn well turning into a fool who was being led by a woman. Their nights out on the town had been pleasant, for her at least. He’d merely accompanied her and then done all he could to bury himself in the gentlemen’s card games and stay well away from her touch.

  The last thing he needed was to dance with her. If he touched her again, there was no chance that it would end with such a simple embrace. He’d be tempted to carry her from the room over his shoulder like a Viking and take her up against a wall somewhere in the house.

  The thought of doing just that had him adjusting his seat.

  He swore and stood, striding to the window. He clasped the wood surrounds and stared at the manicured grounds, the flowerbeds in full bloom and green, leafy trees. He willed his body to get a damn grip upon itself.

  A delectable figure in deep green came into view and his body stilled. Louise kicked off her slippers and walked the few steps off the terrace and onto the lawn. She strolled about the yard, leaning down to smell the lavender and rosemary. He watched her for a moment and jumped when a light knock sounded on his door.

  “Come in,” he said.

  The door opened and Stephen’s blond locks popped around the door. “My lord,” he said, an anxious tone to his words. “May I come in?”

  Luke gestured for him to enter. “Of course, come in, Stephen.” Luke sat back at the desk in his room and nodded for the young man to seat himself on the vacant chair across from him.

  Louise’s brother glanced about the room, taking in the furnishings before glancing back at him. He looked like his sister, more so than Sophie did. Luke smiled, taking pity on the lad who wrung his hands in his lap as if he were in some sort of trouble.

  “What can I help you with?” Luke asked.

  Stephen settled himself and turned his attention to Luke. “I was hoping, my lord, that you would teach me how to ride a horse. I’ve never learned before, you see. We did not have the means for such animals. Although Auntie did have a cat, but, well, you know what I mean.”

  Luke chuckled at his ramblings. “I understand.” He leaned back in his chair, contemplating the request. “Have you ever ridden any horses before?”

  The young lad shook his head. “No, never. I’ve been in a carriage and cart obviously, but I’ve never ridden a hors
e. With you married to Louise I don’t ever want to let her down or embarrass her, you see, and what brother to a marchioness does not know how to handle a mount?”

  “You love your sister?” The young man’s face filled with affection or adoration, Luke wasn’t sure which, possibly both. The image of his own sweet sister filled his mind and he knew that it was both emotions.

  “Sophie and I owe her everything. She was sent away from us when she was only eight years old. If it weren’t for her sending money back to Auntie we would’ve ended up in a poorhouse. She is the kindest, most hard-working woman I know.”

  Luke rubbed his jaw, thinking over Louise and her unshakable loyalty to those she loved. She certainly loved her siblings and the Duchess of Carlton. Even in a marriage that she did not care for, she was trying her best to please him. Make him happy when she knew he didn’t want the union any more than she did.

  “No more titles between us. You may call me Luke and I’d be honored to show you how to ride a horse.”

  The young man brightened and sat up straight. “Thank you, my lord. I mean,” he paused, “Luke. Thank you, Luke.”

  Luke stood, glad of the distraction of Stephen’s sister who strolled the gardens still. “Come then. No time like the present to learn. We’ll go down to Hyde Park and start today.”

  Stephen stood, following close on his heels. “Really? Oh, that would be wonderful. Thank you. I’m keen to become the gentleman that Louise always thought me to be.”

  Luke clapped him on the back, a sense of pride filling him at being able to help the young man. “You’re fifteen, is that correct?” he asked.

  “Yes, sixteen in a month or so,” he replied, eagerly.

  “Well then, we have plenty of time to get you up to speed and fully competent by the time you attend your first Season.”