London, Julia - The Perfect Stranger

by Radha

  His gentle, near reverent exploration of her was stoking a blaze that begged to be doused. Her hands swept the hard lines of his body. She slipped her hands inside his shirt, fingered his hardened nipples. Arthurs low moan reverberated against the skin of her neck, and he reached for the buttons of her gown, deftly freeing each one as his hands moved quickly down her spine.

  I have often thought of our night together, he murmured as he slipped the gray wool from her shoulders to her waist and gazed down to where her breasts spilled from the top of her corset. More times than I might count, he added softly, and sat back on his feet, pulling her to a sitting position. He kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose as he unfastened her corset. With a smile, he threw it aside. But the smile slowly faded as he carefully cupped her breasts, rubbing the peaks with the pad of his thumb through the thin cotton chemise she wore. I thought of you constantly.

  And I of you, she said, carefully brushing a thick curl of hair from his forehead. I dared not dream that you would come back.

  His gaze dropped to her lips. Many was the time I would look at you in Glenbaden and wonder at such natural beauty, wish that such beauty could be mine, that I could hold it in my arms. He nipped her bottom lip before drawing it fully between his. He pushed her back onto the narrow bed, breaking the kiss only to remove her skirt and his shirt. But then he came over her again with an urgency and heat that Kerry felt burning inside her.

  With his hands, he began a more anxious exploration of her body, pushing the chemise aside so that he could feel her skin. Kerrys body was jolted alive by his touch; his fingers seemed to scorch every place he touched her, detonating something inside hershe was suddenly raking her hands through his hair, kissing him fiercely, her body straining to meet his.

  Arthur seemed to share her desperate abandon; his hands worked with a fever of their own, stroking her everywhere, inflaming her flesh, striving to caress every inch of her and know every contour, every flaw. Her hands trailed down his chest, to the soft down that disappeared into his trousers.

  He caught a drag of air in his throat when she flicked her tongue across his nipple. The sound of his ardor turned her into a churning, molten mass, and she realized it was her hands that fumbled with his trousers, her hands that sought to free his rigid arousal straining against the fabric. When the last button sprang free, she reached for him, felt him swell hot in the palm of her hand.

  Arthur anxiously freed her breast from the confines of her chemise, smothered it with warm kisses. When he took it in his mouth, Kerry felt the draw of desire from the bottom of her belly, the ethereal weight of it rising rapidly to the surface, boiling there as he laved her with deliberate laziness, sucking her into his mouth and tongue.

  The ache for him was more than she could bear; her hand surrounded his rigid erection, squeezing gently, stroking him with the same deliberate laziness that he showed her, until Arthur could endure no more. His head suddenly came up; planting his hands on either side of her head, he moved over her.

  You seduce me as no other woman has, he said brusquely. You compel me to an insane desire, Kerry McKinnon. With that, he lowered himself to her, kissing her passionately as one hand moved lithely between her thighs. Kerry gasped against his mouth; the molten heat she had been feeling was spilling from her, she could feel it. Arthurs fingers moved expertly against her, swirling over and around, in and out, driving her to the brink of a well of desire, battering her senses for release. And just when she thought she would surely drown in it, he moved his hand, positioned himself between her legs, and slid inside her as smoothly as the tide washes ashore. She felt her body as she had never felt it beforeevery sense was inflamed, every fiber ablaze, the air around her filled with the scent and flesh of Arthur.

  With every stroke of his staff, every kiss of his lips, he was pushing her closer and closer to him. It was so fluid, so without beginning or end that she could scarcely tell where his body ended and hers began. He flowed into her like water, then rushed out again like the tide, only to come again, deeper still. Kerrys body rose to meet every stroke, but she felt herself fast losing control, spiraling headlong into a physical release so pure that the anticipation of it had already taken her breath away.

  Above her, Arthur pressed his cheek against hers and buried his hand in the wild tangle of her hair. With his other hand, he continued to stroke her in rhythm with his bodys thrusting until Kerry could endure the immaculate torture no more. It happened suddenlya sensation of sinking fast then floating on the swell as the tide rushed out again. The wondrous sensation caused her to cry out with the joy of it; her arms fell away, landing limply to either side of her.

  Arthurs strokes suddenly intensified; he shoved his hands beneath her hips, lifting her to him, thrusting fiercely and quickly until he shuddered against her with a strangled sob of his own. Kerry felt the powerful surge of his seed deep inside her and was immediately overcome with a sense of completion.

  They lay with their arms around one another, both of them panting lightly. After a few moments, Arthur somberly gathered Kerry to him and rolled to his side so that they lay facing each other. She felt him slip out of her and the warmth of his lifeblood spilling onto her thighs. Sighing, he brushed a damp strand of hair from her face. You have captured my poor heart, madam.

  Oh, but he had captured her heart weeks ago, plucked it like a ripe fruit. Suddenly overwhelmed, she buried her face in his neckit seemed to her that in this moment, out here on the open sea as they were, they were just man and woman, sharing the most extraordinary intimacy two people could share, and she loved him for sharing it so completely.

  They lay entwined in each others arms for what seemed hours, hardly speaking, simply enjoying the feel and scent and look of one another in the flickering light of the lantern. When they drifted to sleep Kerry would never know, but she would carry with her for the rest of her days the memory of their lovemaking that night, when they had become one upon the sea.

  The next morning, she was coaxed awake from the first deep sleep she had known in days by Arthurs hands and mouth. He made slow, deliberate love to her, taking his time to bring her to climax, taking even more to reach his own with a joyous smile on his face. He did not leave the cabin again until they docked in Hoek-van-Holland, except occasionally to find food and to give Kerry some privacy. Except for those rare occasions, they lay together on the tiny shelf of a bed, carefully but thoroughly exploring one anothers bodies, laughing softly at private little jests, and speaking low of their lives, their hopes, their dreams.

  Whispering tenderly of the love growing between them.

  It was as if the world did not exist for that space of time. By the time the ship sailed for England, the intimate surroundings and prolonged togetherness had brought them impossibly close. On the sea, there were no differences between them, no ugly realities to disturb them. It seemed to Kerry that she had known Arthur much longer than a handful of weeksthey had so much more in common than she would ever have thought possible. She actually felt himas inexplicable as it was, at times she had the intimate sensation that she was looking at herself.

  Even her debilitating guilt was beginning to melt away in the comfort and safety of Arthurs arms. What had happened seemed a lifetime ago, and in some moments, she dreamed that perhaps it hadnt happened at all. There was no Scotland, no Moncrieffe, nothing of Frasers legacy in that cabin. Nothing but her and Arthur and the love between them.

  But on the afternoon the ship docked at Kingston-upon-Hull, the first rays of ugly reality filtered into the little cabin. The sights and sounds of the busy little harbor brought the cold truth crashing into the world they had created and the stark reality of who she was and what she had done.

  Arthur left the cabin for a time, and Kerry moved woodenly about, donning the plain skirt and blouse from her satchel, fastening her hair into an austere knot at her neck. When the tears began to slip from her eyes, they were quick and silent, taking the magic of the last few days with them. What
they had shared in this cabin was over, forever gone, and Kerry was certain she would never know such peace again.

  When Arthur returned, she managed to keep her back to him so that he would not see the redness in her eyes. But in that uncanny way he had, Arthur seemed to sense her distress. He walked up behind her as she packed her few things and slipped a strong arm around her waist, drawing her into his chest.

  He brushed his lips against her bare neck, pressed his cheek against hers as he tightened his hold. It will be quite all right, he said softly. I will not allow any harm to come to you, on my life I wont.

  His solemn pledge warmed her, but she twisted in his embrace and kissed him hungrily, silencing any more vows he might make, because she couldnt bear to hear them.

  She couldnt bear to face the truthit wasnt her crime she feared, it was him.

  Oh, there was no doubt in her mind that he meant every word he said. He had shown her glorious love, completely and unselfishly, and readily vowed with his life to keep her safe. But it was his very life she feared. It was his name, his position in the British aristocracy, and everything else that separated him from her.

  A different world, she thought later as Arthur took her hand in his to walk among the fishmongers and sailors and various tradesman in the crowded streets of Kingston, not the realm of make-believe they had created in the last few days. And as she watched him haggle over a carriagea covered carriage, he insisted loudly to the man, as he would not expose the lady to the elementsshe pretended she was watching a man who would love her forever, would cherish her for all of eternity.

  And then swallowed down the bitter taste of reality that crept into her throat.

  Chapter Seventeen

  If he hadnt known better, Arthur would have sworn they were still in Scotland, for hiring a suitable traveling chaise in Kingston was just barely more tolerable than purchasing a horse in the Highlands. He sincerely hoped his brother Alex hadnt made some major investment of funds in the last several weeks, for he had certainly spent a bloody fortune since he had wandered off to see after Phillips holdings.

  And as if he hadnt had enough bloody vexations for one day, the driver was not terribly keen on the idea of driving to Longbridge. Roads are rather thick with mud, milord, he said, clutching his cap anxiously in his hands. Weve had an awful lot of rain of late. Would you not rather go south?

  Had the whole of England gone mad in his absence? Since when did a journeyman argue with him? I am quite certain, he said through clenched teeth. In fact, I am rather unyieldingly certain. Now, sir, if you will do me the great favor of getting on with it, I should be eternally grateful!

  The man frowned, shoved his hat on his head. Mud, I say, he muttered under his breath as he swung up onto the drivers seat, and followed that up with something Arthur did not quite catch, but which sounded terribly snide. I can hear you very clearly, sir! he snapped, and shoved through the opening of the chaise, slammed the little door behind him, and landed irritably on the bench across from Kerry.

  But with only one look at her, Arthur quickly forgot his annoyance. He smiled. It would seem our driver has a particular aversion to mud. Rather causes one to wonder why he should aspire to be a driver atall.

  Kerry merely smiled and looked out the dingy, gray window.

  Arthur frowned, straightening himself against the squabs. Two days ago, Kerry would have laughed. This quiet, contemplative demeanor of hers had come about the moment he told her they were sailing into the harbor at Kingston. Not that he was any sort of expert in the ever-changing dispositions of womennor did he have any aspiration to bebut he had noticed it then and had guessed that the change had to do with memories of Scotlandand Thomas. In the course of the last several days she had worried aloud more than once about her cousin. Privately, Arthur thought her worries a tragic waste of good humor; Thomas, that horses ass, would make his way in this world. Bloody hell, Arthur wouldnt be surprised to see the obstinate goat rise to great fame and fortune on some lark. That was always the way with men like McKinnon

  Your friend, the earl? He willna think we are imposing, truly?

  Kerrys small voice roused Arthur from his ruminations; he saw the worry on her face, and immediately leaned across the coach and put a comforting hand on her knee. Trust me, Albright shall be delighted to receive us.

  Kerry glanced down at her worn black skirt; a faint grimace creased her brow.

  Arthur suddenly understood. For perhaps the first time in his life, he wished for an entire kingdom at his disposal and the instant means to give Kerry her choice of gowns and jewels and shoes, right there in the bleak country of the north. He would do anything to please her, anything to raise her joyous smile once again.

  He had, of course, given trinkets to lovers or little gifts to appease ruffled feathers for one perceived slight or another. But he had never so much desired to give a woman something until now, never felt such burning need to make her happy. And never had he felt so hopelessly inept at doing so. In spite of his considerable influence and resources, in the rural north as they were, without any ready funds left to speak of, there was nothing he could dothey would be accepted at the door of Longbridge as they were. Or not Arthur was not quite certain what he would do if Lilliana objected to their unannounced and untoward arrival. Worse, he realized that uncertainty about every bloody thing was a feeling that was becoming quite familiar to him of late.

  Such was life with Kerry McKinnon about.

  By the time they reached the mile-long drive leading to the house and grounds of Longbridge, Arthur could not have possibly cared less how they might appear to Albright, or the whole bloody ton for that matter. They had been stuck twice, which naturally meant he had to push. A cold rain had started up again, chilling him through to his very marrow. He had never in his life been as tired or cold or ravenous as he was at that moment, and by God, Adrian Spence would receive him.

  The driver, naturally, flatly refused to attempt the drive to the house when the deluge of rain began anew. Arthur and Kerry had, therefore, stood under a very slim space of shelter built into the massive brick gate until the rain had abated. Somewhat abated. As it appeared to Arthur that the sun would never shine again, he had taken up their bags, forced a smile for Kerrys benefit, and had started down the muddied road to the house, pulling one foot after the other from the muck. It was a miserable trekbut not once did Kerry complain or suggest that she could not go on. Hers was a valiant soul, he would certainly give her that, more valiant than he, for he was on the verge of sitting on his arse next to the road and wailing like a baby.

  They walked until they were standing side by side on the huge round porch that surrounded the massive oak entry to Longbridge, staring at the gruesome face fashioned on the brass knocker. Neither of them spoke for a long moment. When Arthur finally glanced at Kerry from the corner of his eye, she turned and gazed at him with a look of such dismay that he could not, no matter how hard he tried, summon words of encouragement. He shifted his gaze to the ugly brass knocker, and might have studied the workmanship of the thing all bloody evening had the door not swung open so suddenly that he and Kerry were blinded by the bright light behind it. Arthur blinked until he could clearly focus on the marble tile and gilded fixtures that adorned the foyer.

  Oh my. Oh my!

  That voice Arthur instantly recognized as belonging to Max, Adrians fastidious butler. Max, he drawled, focusing his bleary gaze, I dont suppose Albright is about?

  A good six inches shorter than Arthur, Max gaped up at him, his round eyes clearly relaying his shock. My Lord Arthur! he squealed. What tragedy has befallen you?

  What tragedy? What tragedy? An adventure so bizarre as not to be believed had befallen him, but a tragedy? This was no tragedy; this was a blasted comedy! Arthur could not help himself; the situation suddenly struck him as full of hilarity, and he laughed hard. A thousand stars have befallen me if you must know, he said through his laughter, knowing full well he looked quite mad. A thousand stars, righ
t on top of my noggin, Max. Now if you would be so kind, let the old boy know that Ive come to call, will you?

  Max nicked his gaze down the length of Arthurs body, then looked at Kerry. He is indeed in residence, my lord. Please forgive me, he said, and stepped aside, gesturing weakly into the foyer. Still chuckling, Arthur put his hand on the small of Kerrys back to usher her inside. But she surprised him by pushing back against him and refusing to move forward. Its quite all right. Just step inside, he murmured.

  No, she muttered, and shoved back against him so hard in her attempt to back away from the door that she unbalanced him.

  Max looked mortified; Arthur plastered a smile to his face for the butlers benefit, and slowly leaned to one side so that his mouth was just above Kerrys ear. What would you do, stand out here all night? he whispered through his smile. Come on then, just step inside.

  No! she hissed, and elbowed him in the ribs. I will not go in there looking like this!

  Oh fine. Just bloody fine. He had dragged her all the way from Scotland and she would choose now for a tantrum? All right, all right, he could see why she might be a bit reluctantAlbright never did anything halfway, and the elaborate foyer with its painted ceiling moldings, gilded door and window fixtures, marble tile, and great sweeping staircase was merely a sample of what one would find in the rest of the mansion. Nevertheless, it was the only shelter within miles of where they stood, and wet to the bone as they were, Arthur was in no mood to argue the point. Step inside, he said, the tone of his voice brooking no debate. We can argue in warmth just as effectively as we can in the rain.

  No!