‘Sir Hugo isn’t the only one with things to do.’ She smiled, a tight movement of her lips that did not reach her eyes. ‘I must continue my work. The more time I spend at the dig, the sooner I will be finished, or…’ she paused as she realised what she intended to do ‘…the sooner I will be able to turn it over to someone else to finish excavating.’
‘Never say you are thinking of leaving?’ Juliet said, genuine dismay in her light voice.
‘I must some time, but not today and very likely not this week.’ She rose. ‘If you will excuse me?’
Both nodded, but it was obvious neither one cared. They were more involved in watching each other and discovering just how far they were to go.
Annabell walked from the room, envying them with all her heart.
Chapter Thirteen
Dinner that evening was uncomfortable in the extreme. Annabell nearly went so far as to excuse herself during the dessert course. Hugo watched her the entire time with a look of brooding awareness that made her stomach do cartwheels and her palms moisten. His attention was so marked that several times Annabell caught Timothy looking from Hugo to her and back again. She did her best to ignore everything, but could not stop her awareness of her host.
Finally Juliet rose and she and Susan followed suit. They escaped to the salon.
‘Please excuse me, Juliet, Susan,’ Annabell said before the other two had barely sat down. ‘I don’t feel well. Too much sun today, no doubt since I forgot my bonnet. I think I will retire early.’
Both women were glowing with pleasure at the knowledge that the men they were interested in returned their regard, but Juliet looked disappointed at Annabell’s request. Still, always gracious, she said, ‘Of course, Annabell. I will explain to the gentlemen.’
‘Thank you.’ Annabell smiled at Susan. ‘I will see you in the morning.’
Susan nodded. ‘Have you found something?’
‘A pot, nothing fancy, but I think we should record it. I don’t think it is native to this part of the world. Possibly from Greece.’
‘Oh, how exciting.’ Susan clapped her hands. ‘I shall be prompt.’
Annabell’s smile softened. ‘I know you will.’
But she did not want to linger. She did not know how long the men would spend with their port. She doubted it would be long since two of the three would be anxious to join the ladies. Before Susan could continue on or Juliet say anything else, Annabell left.
She fled, wondering if she was making a mistake by not moving to the inn. She reached her room and closed the door securely. Perhaps she would leave when Lady Mainwaring arrived. She did not think she could stand to watch Hugo with his future wife, no matter that Hugo did not love the woman. He was still marrying her. Lady Mainwaring still carried his child, begotten in passion.
The picture was too painful.
Annabell managed to undo the top buttons of her dinner gown so she could twist it around to the front and undo the rest. She slipped out of the thin muslin, shivering in the chill air, and left it wrinkled on the floor while she went for her robe. She looked back at the dress and decided to hang it in the wardrobe.
She had her head stuck in the recesses of the mahogany-and-sandalwood inlaid wardrobe when someone knocked. It was probably Susan come to talk about tomorrow.
‘Come in,’ she called, making room for the dress.
She heard the door open and shut, and expected to hear Susan. Instead cinnamon reached her. A frisson ran the length of her spine down to her toes. She pulled her head and torso out of the wardrobe.
‘Hugo,’ she murmured, turning around to see him standing too close for comfort. ‘What are you doing here? Someone will see you.’
‘No one saw me.’
He was magnificent. His too-long hair tumbled over his forehead and curled around the modest collar of his shirt. His black evening coat was unbuttoned and his black satin breeches were snug to his thighs and hips. His clothing left nothing to her all too active imagination. He was a man in all his glory.
She swallowed and looked at his face, only to see he was studying her as she had done him.
He gazed at her, taking in her dishabille. Self-consciously, she brushed the loose hair from her face. His attention lowered and she belatedly remembered she wore nothing but her chemise.
Hunger sharpened the angles of his face. ‘I brought you something.’
She reached behind her and grabbed the first garment her fingers touched. It was a cape. She dragged it around her shoulders, embarrassed by her near nudity as she had not been before with him.
She spoke harshly. ‘I don’t want anything from you. Please go before someone finds you here. The last thing I need is to be linked with a man who’s about to marry another woman.’
Even as she said the words, she realised their illogicality. The last thing she needed was to have any man in her bedchamber. The fact that it was Hugo only made it slightly worse.
His eyes narrowed. ‘I want you to have these.’
He held out a square black velvet box. She knew it must be jewellery. The hard knot of pain in her chest slowly turned to steam.
‘I am not your mistress, Hugo. I don’t want jewellery from you, even if it is only a token of your appreciation for past favours. I know when men give gifts such as that to women. My brothers have done it enough. I don’t want it from you.’
He opened the box to show the parure of aquamarines and diamonds. The stones sparked with fire even from the distance separating her from them. It was a stunning set of necklace, drop earrings and bracelets.
‘I bought them to complement your beauty.’
‘You bought them to pay me off.’ She took a deep, steadying breath and met him squarely. ‘Get out.’
His face darkened and there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes. He set the velvet box down carefully. Too carefully.
She edged back.
He closed in on her.
She stepped back until the wardrobe stopped her. She put her hands up to ward him off. It was no use.
He pressed her to the hard wood, a hand on either side of her head. His face was too close.
‘Don’t send me away, Bell. I want you too badly to leave.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I won’t leave, not while you look at me with desire as you just did.’
She closed her eyes to the ardour he radiated. ‘You are mistaken. I don’t desire you, Hugo. I am mad at you for your effrontery in offering me the same gift you would give a discarded mistress.’
‘They are a gift, Bell. Nothing more. They belong on you.’
‘I don’t want them,’ she repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. ‘Take them and get out.’
‘I have tried to be gentle with you, Bell, to woo you the way women want. Talking of emotions, finding out your likes and dislikes. Now I am going to seduce you with no regard for anything but your body and mine.’
She gasped, her eyes flying open. ‘How dare you!’
He laughed, hard and sharp. ‘I am desperate. I dare a great deal.’
His hand left the wardrobe and gripped her face. He held her for his kiss, his body pressed to hers. His lips met hers, hard and demanding, unlike any kiss he had ever given her. His tongue forced her mouth open and plunged in. His fingers undid her braid and caught thick strands of hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck.
The pulse beat just where her collarbone showed. He moved his lips there and sucked. Shivers broke out on her skin.
Still holding her head back with one hand so her neck arched to give him access, he used the other hand to sweep off the cape she had so hastily donned. It fell from her shoulders to puddle in a brown heap on the floor. He pushed the chemise off one of her shoulders and down until her breast jutted exposed above her corset.
He lifted his head long enough to gaze at her exposed flesh, then he bent down and took her nipple into his mouth and sucked. She gasped and her back arched against her will so he had better access to her flesh.
Her
hands, which had so recently pushed him, gripped the lapels of his coat and she hung on as though a storm raged through her body, pummelling her with its intensity. She could no longer resist him.
Sensing her surrender, he freed her hair and used the other hand to push the chemise off her other shoulder so that both her breasts glowed in the light from the fire. He raised his face and looked at her. She met his eyes, unable to turn away.
He took a deep shuddering breath. ‘Tell me to leave now, and I will go.’
She gazed at him, seeing his need even as her own devoured any words of refusal she might manage to utter. ‘I thought you intended to seduce me without regard for my wishes.’
His voice was deep and resonated with his arousal. ‘I did, Bell. I did.’ Pain twisted his mouth. ‘But I cannot do that to you. You value your independence too much for me to take it from you simply to satisfy my appetites.’
She groaned, knowing his words had slipped between the widening cracks of her emotional barrier. ‘You have won,’ she whispered.
‘We both have.’
She closed her eyes, wanting what he was about to do to her, wanting him so badly she hurt with the need. When one of his arms went around her shoulders and the other behind her legs and he swung her up, she didn’t protest. Let him take her where he willed, let him do to her what they both wanted.
He laid her on the bed and stepped back. ‘Look at me, Bell.’
She didn’t want to see him. She wanted only to feel him. Looking at him would be more than she could stand, for then she would have to admit to herself that she loved him. Had loved him from the first moment he kissed her. Her mouth twisted in bittersweet memory.
‘Just kiss me and be one with it, Hugo,’ she said, her voice hoarse with desire and denial and a loss that penetrated to her soul.
She heard him moving and the sound of cloth and knew he was undressing. The part of her that always revelled in his masculinity made her open her eyes. He stood naked.
The fire was behind him so the orange glow lined him, but she could still see him well enough. Dark hairs, crisp yet silky, covered his chest, circling his nipples. They formed a trail down the hard planes of his stomach past his stomach and lower. He was ready. She looked at his face and saw the tight line of his mouth and the blade edge of his jaw.
She lifted her arms to him.
He lowered himself to her so they lay side by side. His hands skimmed her bosom and stomach, his fingers touched her softly. She sighed as his mouth met hers. His kisses tantalised her, light then hard, shallow then deep. His fingers moved in unison. Her hips matched his ministrations.
She gripped his shoulders, shivering with need as he moved. She felt his muscles tense and knew he was holding himself back.
She tore her mouth from his. ‘Now, Hugo. Enter me now.’
He licked his lips. His pupils were so dilated that she could see her face in their black depths. She met his gaze without flinching even as her body pulsed from his attentions. He smiled, a look of power and barely suppressed passion.
And still he would not take her.
Her breathing increased. Her eyes closed and her back arched. She dug her nails into his muscles and rode the release he gave her.
When she could finally speak, she asked, her voice hoarse and weak, ‘Will you take your pleasure now?’
He gave her an inscrutable look and, instead of moving between her legs, slid from the bed. Her eyes widened as she watched him go to his knees so that his face was level with the top of the mattress. The look he gave her was wicked and sensual. His lips parted and his tongue appeared.
He gripped her hips and positioned her for his deep kisses. She gasped with pleasure even as she tried to push him away.
‘Stop, Bell. Let me give you this gift.’
She barely heard him over the rushing of blood in her ears. She had never experienced anything like this before. It was strange and embarrassing and—she gasped when he hit a sensitive spot—arousing her beyond her wildest imagination. He licked and sucked and used his mouth and tongue as he had his fingers and hand.
She writhed in exquisite torture. Just as she thought her body would explode, he withdrew only to return before she had completely calmed. He played her like a musician plays his instrument. He wrung from her every sensation her body was capable of giving.
Her soft moans and small gasps of pleasure filled the darkness in the room. She felt transported to a place where anything was possible. His mouth finally left her and she whimpered with frustrated need.
‘Shh,’ he murmured. ‘I won’t leave you like this. I promise, Bell.’
On one level she heard his reassurance, on a deeper level her body burned with desire not realised. Her nails clawed the sheet beneath her throbbing body.
‘Look at me,’ he ordered.
She opened her passion-heavy eyes to see him standing between her thighs, his masculinity firm and ready. He had already put on his protection. She reached for him and he caught her hands with one of his. With the other hand and his hips, he opened her wide. She finally realised what he meant to do.
He released her hand to grip her hips and hold her still. Then he thrust deep inside her. One strong, intense penetration and she exploded. She screamed with released tension as her body pulsated, and his hips pushed deeper and deeper. He seemed to touch something deep inside her that was both pleasure and pain. It was like nothing she had ever experienced.
Her mind numb, her body tingling, she hung on as he pounded into her. Suddenly, it was as though he had not already brought her twice to climax for she shattered again and again.
She gasped and sucked in deep gulps of air, her hips continuing to move with his. She was in a daze of satiation, yet still saturated with desire for this man who continued to move inside her as though he had just begun.
Suddenly, she felt him stiffen. He groaned, then spasmed.
Long minutes later, he still lay half on her, his feet on the bare floor, his chest covering hers. He kissed the side of her neck and smoothed the damp hair from her forehead. She turned to catch his lips with hers.
‘I love you,’ she whispered, not realizing she meant to say the words until they were out.
He looked sombrely at her. ‘I know, Bell. I know.’
Annabell woke, wondering why she felt cold and bereft. Then remembered. Hugo had made love to her, such as he had never done before. In hindsight, it seemed he had taken her with desperation as much as passion.
She turned from side to side and swept her arms over the covers, hoping he was still with her and knowing he was not. He had been saying goodbye with his body.
Her mouth twisted. He had been showing her what she could never have. A lover who cared enough about his partner’s pleasure that he would take himself to the limit in order to turn her inside out. But he was more than that to her.
He was the man she had fallen in love with despite her better judgement. In spite of everything she had ever told herself, her heart was his. She had not given it to him, he had taken it. And now he had returned it because he did not want it.
She curled into a tight ball as though she could shut out the pain. It was a futile action and she knew it, but there was nothing else she could do. He was gone and she loved him.
Hugo sat in the chair he had moved closer to the fire in his bedchamber and stared at the flames, seeing Annabell’s face in each leaping glimmer. In another, he saw the curve of her breast. In another, the light in her eyes when he sheathed himself inside her body.
He would never touch her again. She wouldn’t let him.
He emptied the last of the brandy into his glass. Instead of drinking the liquor, he threw it on the flames so they danced and reared to the top of the fireplace.
When she woke, she would find the aquamarines. He should have taken them because she would despise him for leaving them, but they were for her. He had bought them for her, hoping she would remember him every time she looked at them. Hoping she would re
member his touch every time she wore them. If she wore them.
He rose naked from the chair, his body exhausted but far from satiated. He could have made love to her all night. Even the thought of it aroused him. But he had not.
Tomorrow Elizabeth Mainwaring arrived.
The next morning, Annabell looked up from the piece of mosaic she was carefully uncovering. A post-chaise rumbled down the dirt road that skirted her dig on its way to Rosemont. She caught a glimpse of a crest. Lady Elizabeth Mainwaring was arriving.
Annabell slumped to the ground, careful even in her misery not to sit on something important. She pulled her knees up and hugged her arms around her calves, eyes staring at nothing. She had known this was coming. No one had made a secret of the fact that Hugo’s future wife was arriving today. She should have moved to the inn, but that would have meant taking Susan from Mr Tatterly. A single woman, widow or not, did not stay in a public inn alone. And what if Mr Tatterly had stopped seeing Susan because of the relocation? She couldn’t chance that just because she was not happy.
Nor could she leave the area completely and return to her brother’s town house. That would mean leaving the dig before she was ready. She had decided long ago to devote herself to uncovering the past and exploring different lands and cultures. Not even the pain caused by her ended liaison with Hugo was going to change that. If anything, her heart-ache was going to make her vocation even more important.
But not this instant.
For a few moments and a few moments only, she was going to wallow in her misery. Elizabeth Mainwaring was going to get the only man Annabell had ever loved or ever would love. It didn’t seem fair, but then she had learned long ago that life rarely was fair.
Her vision blurred. Eternity passed and was gone.
Annabell pulled herself together. Enough self-pity. She had work to do. The sooner she finished here, the sooner she could leave. The sooner she left, the sooner she would not have to see Hugo every day and know he would never be hers.
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