“Oh yes. Daphne and Basil’s.” She sighed reluctantly. “I suppose we cannot avoid it.”
Nathaniel smiled slightly. “We could actually, since Basil has already asked me not to attend.”
The matchless cheek of it, excluding Nathaniel when it was his house! Willa’s eyes narrowed. “Then we will definitely be there.”
Nathaniel shook his head admiringly. “Poor Basil.”
The house was quiet around them; Nathaniel was being warm and relaxed with her—the question that had been burning in Willa ever since her meeting with the Bishop this morning burst from her.
“Why have you never denied being labeled a traitor?”
Nathaniel pulled back. “Ah. I thought something was preoccupying you today. Your chat with the Bishop was not a complete waste of his time, was it?”
“It was his strongest argument,” she said reluctantly. “And you are avoiding the point.”
“There is no point, Willa,” he said stiffly. “It is late and we are both weary.”
“Yet again, no direct answer,” she mused as if to herself.
God, she was tenacious. Perhaps too much so. If he let her pursue this question, she was intelligent and obstinate enough to uncover some things that truly needed to remain buried. He tipped her chin up with one finger to look intently into her eyes.
“Willa, I have never denied the rumors because I cannot deny the rumors.”
She gazed at him as if she was trying to see within him. “Cannot, or will not?”
He shook his head sadly, seriously. “Truly cannot.”
It was only the truth. To deny the rumors now, with Foster on the loose, might prompt the man to reveal the secret that the Royal Four feared to become public. No one could ever know how young Prince George, caught up in youthful rebellion against his moralistic father’s disapproval, had joined a group of young radicals who called themselves the Knights of the Lily. George had ever been light-minded, despite his innate intelligence, and had not realized until nearly too late that his cohorts were serious indeed.
All had been confessed and duly swept under the rug. The young insurgents had been mercifully dispersed, and all had remained quiet for thirty years.
Until Nathaniel had been recruited by the leader of the old Knights of the Lily and told of their plan to paint the Prince Regent as a patricidal maniac, hoping to prompt the people of England to depose him in the midst of war. That sort of chaos in the government was just what Napoleon needed to gain the upper hand again—and just what the Royal Four could not allow.
No matter what the cost.
Just as it was Nathaniel’s mission to find the last conspirator—no matter what the cost.
None of which he could explain to Willa. Ever.
For if the Royal Four feared the revelation about the Prince Regent, they dreaded the revelation of their own secrets more. Princes and kings came and went, good ones, bad ones, mad ones. Through it all, through the chaos of all the centuries, it had been the Four who had kept England steering straight through the rocks that had ruined other larger, stronger nations. The Four were the reason that one tiny island had become a world power and had remained one for so long.
Their lack of existence was their strength—and their greatest weakness. Like the heel of Achilles, discovery was the only thing that could bring them down, leaving England without its secret armature of honor and loyalty without care for personal gain.
Willa was watching him with her blue eyes nearly swimming. Her disappointment cut him to the core.
“I’m sorry, wildflower. I know you were hoping I could deny it. I’m sorry to disillusion you.” He felt the inevitability of it. He felt his brief contentment dissolving and his fiery little touchstone leaving him cold and alone.
Instead, she peered up at him as if she couldn’t decide what species he was. “Are all men so stupid?”
Nathaniel blinked, then frowned. “You’ve been spending too much time with Myrtle.”
She threw both hands in the air and turned away from him. “And you’ve been spending too much time running from a lie!”
Lie? The hallway seemed to shift around him for a moment. She couldn’t mean what he thought she meant. Could she?
“What—what lie?”
She stopped her frustrated pacing and looked at him, head tilted, hands on her hips. “The lie about you being a traitor.”
Not daring to place too much weight on what she was saying, Nathaniel moved to stand before her. He took her hands from her hips and linked his fingers in hers.
His hands weren’t cold, but hers were warmer. God, even her fingers fed him warmth.
Leading her gently, he opened her chamber door and backed her up to sit her on the bed. He sat beside her, keeping her hands in his.
Abruptly she gave up her mad and leaned into him, rolling her head on his shoulder. Closing his eyes, Nathaniel tilted his head for a deep breath of warm, alive, jasmine-scented Willa.
The room was definitely shifting around him. The world was shifting, sliding ever so slightly from wrong into right.
Willa believed in him. She’d heard the whole grisly story, seen him refuse to deny it, and still she did not turn away.
He wanted to wrap his arms around her, to roll her back onto the coverlet and take down her hair. He ached to kiss her until she couldn’t breathe and bury himself in her until she couldn’t speak.
But first, he had to hear it from her very lips. Nathaniel couldn’t bear the tension for another moment. “Willa, you still have faith in me?”
She smiled tenderly at him. “Oh, darling Nathaniel. Of course I have faith in you. I love you, you silly lout.”
She believed. The weight upon his heart vanished like smoke, and he felt as though he very well could turn blue and fly. At this moment, he felt as if he could do anything imaginable, with Willa at his side.
Wait a moment.
“You love me?”
She tilted her head, her smile softening. “Yes, Nathaniel Stonewell. I love you.”
Then he was pulling her into his arms before she could take another breath.
Willa gasped at Nathaniel’s urgency, then relaxed into the strength of his arms. She had been waiting for him for so long that she gave herself up to the moment immediately, turning to instant heat at his touch.
She loved the feel of his arms wrapped tightly about her, almost lifting her from the bed. Slipping her hands around his neck for support, she let her head fall back.
Nathaniel instantly took advantage of the motion and buried his face in her neck. She felt tongue and teeth. It sent shivers down to her toes.
“Are you going to cop—” No. Wait. “Are you going to make love to me now?”
He pulled his head up to gaze down at her. “Yes, wildflower. I’m going to make love to you now. Twice. At least.”
He pulled her higher and kissed the tops of her breasts above the neckline of her gown.
She shivered, anticipation making her press her thighs together. “Twice. Oh my. Is that possible?”
Pulling his head up once more, he growled, “Willa, wildflower, shut up. Please.”
And then he kissed her.
He kissed her until she couldn’t breathe, until her heart pounded and her knees weakened and she melted inside like warm wax.
Nathaniel couldn’t get enough of the taste of his extraordinary country minx. She was everything that her one untutored kiss on the road had promised him. Sweet, hot, giving, and such a very quick learner.
Willa stroked her hands from his neck up into his hair, tangling the long silky strands in her fists as she threw everything she knew into the kiss.
The heat of his mouth, the spicy taste of him, the slick feel of his teeth and rough hot pleasure of his tongue. It was even better than the first time.
His hands began to rove over her, down her back and over her bosom. The tiny cap sleeves slipped off her shoulders, tangling her arms too tightly, so she let go of him for a moment to shrug th
em off.
He stepped back to look down at her, his hands sliding up her until they cradled her face. “Let me see you, wildflower. Let me see all of you.”
Not sure what he wanted, she stood, reaching behind her for the top buttons of her gown until she heard his encouraging groan. The gown gaped forward, exposing more and more of her bosom. She undid the last buttons at her waist slowly, one by one, watching him watch her.
It was unbearably exciting, seeing the lust on his face, feeling the power she had over his response.
Then the button slipped from its hole and the bodice of her gown slipped down the front, hanging open but still clinging to her moist skin. He reached to pull it down the rest of the way.
Willa pulled back, suddenly too shy. She couldn’t do it, not after being turned away so often.
Nathaniel looked into her eyes. “Is it my turn?”
His voice was gentle, but the look in his eyes was urgent and hungry. She shivered, and his gaze flew back to where her areolas peeked from behind blue silk. She wore almost nothing underneath, for she’d had little that would suit.
“Please?” Her voice caught on the knot of fear and heady longing in her throat. Perhaps if he were naked as well…
Nathaniel pulled off his open frock coat and tossed it to the chair behind her. Then he quickly undid his waistcoat and sent it flying after his coat. His stock he untied slowly, then whipped away to flutter across the room like a flag of abandon. Then, one by one, he slowly pulled the studs from his shirt, parting it teasingly so that it hung open but not off.
“That seems fair. Now you.”
Willa licked her lips. His gaze riveted itself on her mouth, so she did it again. He swallowed harshly, and the hungry look in his eyes became almost tortured.
Heady stuff, this lovemaking. She felt her feminine might growing by the moment. There was only one problem. If she removed her gown, she would be naked but for her shift, while he would only be shirtless.
In the interest of fairness, then, Willa kicked off one slipper and raised her foot to the seat of the chair. Pulling up the hem of her gown, she exposed the lacy garter upon which hung her stocking.
Nathaniel thought he was going to burst on the spot at the first glimpse of creamy thigh. Oh, she was a wicked country miss. He watched as she leisurely untied the garter, letting it slide off her thigh with a satin hiss.
She tossed it onto the chair on top of his waistcoat and gave him a look of challenge.
He knew what she was doing and found it unbearably sweet that she was turning her fear and nervousness into a ribald little game for him.
Still, in the interest of moving things along, he bent and removed not one boot but two, tossing them past her to land beside the chair.
Her eyes widened, but he wasn’t going to let her off easily. He smiled at her, cocking his head expectantly.
Willa swallowed. Then, bending, she rolled her stocking down with excruciating slowness, until she had to point her toe and kick it off onto the floor.
Nathaniel was going to die. The fact that she had no idea that bending over made the bodice of her gown drop open and expose her luscious breasts completely only made it more exciting. Losing that divine view when she straightened made him give a tiny groan of mourning.
Quickly he stripped off both socks and pulled his shirt over his head.
Willa froze at the sight of his bared chest. How could she have forgotten how beautiful he was? Why was she delaying the one thing she wanted in all the world?
With a sudden flurry of motion, Willa planted her other foot on the chair, stripped off the garter and stocking and tossed them aside, then stood to face Nathaniel.
He knew what she wanted, she could see it on his face, and the trace of arrogance there was not to be borne. Deciding to exert a little of her newfound power, she turned her back on him, then slipped the gown over and off and tossed it aside. Then, remaining with her back to him, as much for courage as for teasing potential, she untied the drawstring of her shift and let it slip down to hang very low at her hips.
He made a low tortured sound, and she looked over her shoulder to see his hands clenched by his sides and all arrogance gone from his face.
Good.
Then she turned to run for the bed so she could hide under the covers.
“Not so fast, wildflower!”
Nathaniel caught her in one arm and swung her around to face him, then stepped forward to kiss her—
And tripped over his own boots on the floor. With a violent twist of his body so that he would not land on Willa, he fell hard on the marble hearth.
“Oh, darling! Oh, Nathaniel, are you all right?”
He managed to pull in a deep breath but almost lost it again when he realized that Willa’s heavy, soft breasts were pressed to his bare chest. He could feel her hardened nipples moving against his skin as she ran her hands over his skull looking for injuries.
Heaven. Being knocked unconscious by a nearly naked Willa was just this side of heaven.
But Nathaniel wanted to be on the other side of heaven. Better yet, the inside of heaven.
Reaching for her, he wrapped both arms about her and rolled them both to one side, away from the cold marble and onto the deep, soft rug.
“Oh, you are all right. I was so afraid the jinx—”
There was no choice at all. He had to kiss those words right out of her mouth.
Once the jolt of fear for him had passed, Willa forgot to think at all. There was nothing in the world but the taste and smell and feel of Nathaniel above her.
He kissed her deeply, braced above her on one arm while the other pulled her shift down to her ankles. Quickly she pedaled it off, then gasped into his mouth as he moved his body between her knees.
“Shh,” he said into her lips. “Not yet.”
She relaxed, allowing her legs to fall open fully as he lay down upon her, pressing his body into the parting of hers with his trousers still covering him. As long as he kept them on, she had nothing to worry about.
Then his hands began to travel her body with knowledge and thoroughness, and she forgot to worry at all.
21
Nathaniel couldn’t believe the woman who moved and sighed and shivered beneath him. Never had someone responded to his every touch, seemingly his every thought.
He’d assumed that he had made love before, but never had it been like this. Never this generous, this achingly tender yet fantastically wild.
She was on fire beneath him, sighing and writhing, stimulating him almost beyond bearing. And taking him further by the moment were the words that kept falling from her lips.
“I love you, Nathaniel, I love you so.”
He couldn’t wait any longer. She hadn’t come to orgasm yet, but she was swollen and wet to the touch and shuddered with every flick of his fingers. He should take her all the way, but he needed her so badly …
“Wildflower, I need to—” He fumbled at his trouser buttons, then gasped as her hands slid down his belly to help him. His own were shaking so badly that he took them away and let her take over.
Willa’s fear was gone. All she could feel now was the blinding ache within, plus a burning need to see Nathaniel naked. Now.
She slipped the buttons quickly through their holes, taking care, at every opportunity, to stroke her knuckles against the rigid length hidden behind the fine tight wool. He quivered every time. Delicious.
Then he was free. His erection sprang into her waiting hands, but she gained not a moment to explore it. Nathaniel pulled away, frantically tore his breeches off, and rolled back between her thighs.
“I need you so, wildflower. I should make sure—”
She wrapped her arms about his neck, pulling him down for a hot, wet tender-rough kiss. Then she pulled back and gave him a deadly serious look.
“If you don’t take me now, Nathaniel, I will hit you.”
His reply was to thrust the head of his erection into her.
She threw he
r head back, gasping. “Yesss.”
He withdrew, making her whimper with loss. Then he pressed in again. Every stroke rubbed against that place, the sensitive place that Willa herself had only touched in the bath.
It felt wicked and outrageous and very good. And it didn’t hurt at all.
He did it again and again, faster and faster, until her head tossed against his forearms and she whimpered out loud.
Then he did something, lowered his body and tightened his arms about her—and thrust deep inside her.
The stretching, bursting pain was shocking. She cried out in distress, her hold on his shoulders becoming panicked, and she shook her head wildly when he bent to breathe reassurance into her ear.
“Shh,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. It will pass. Shh.”
He held her tightly, not moving within her any longer. She gulped once, still panting from the shock, then let her trust in him and the heat of him relax her. The searing eased as she expanded and warmed around him.
“Better?” His voice was tender.
She pulled back her head and smiled up at him, nodding, even as she drew a last shuddering breath.
Then she punched him hard on the bicep.
“Why didn’t you warn me you were going to do that?”
“If I had, you would have tensed, and it would have been much worse.”
“Oh.” She considered that for a moment. Then she punched him again.
“Wildflower, we are really going to have to talk about your propensity for violence.”
“Fine, after we talk about how you know so much about deflowering virgins.”
He laughed weakly at that, and the movement of him within her made them both gasp.
“Willa,” he said tightly, “if I swear to you that you are my first and only virgin, may we please continue to copulate our brains out?”
Her eyes went wide. “There’s more?” The idea made her shudder beneath him, and she felt him pulse within her.
He groaned. “Oh, wildflower, there is so much more.”
And he began to show her. With slow, long strokes he introduced her to her own depth and sensitivity. The pain was gone, leaving a pleasantly throbbing ache that was eased only by his deepest thrusts.
Celeste Bradley - [Royal Four 01] Page 21
