Satisfied that she’d put everything back into its proper perspective, she was about to bend down to retrieve the jewelry box when a quiet knock sounded at her door. Slipping the ring into her pocket, she said, “Come in,” wondering if Mary had forgotten something when she’d delivered her breakfast.
The door opened, and Andrew stepped over the threshold. Andrew, looking clean and freshly shaved, his hair neatly combed, his fawn breeches and dark blue jacket accentuating his dark good looks, cravat perfectly knotted, boots polished to a high sheen. He looked tall and broad, masculine and delicious, and, with his eyes intent upon hers, just a bit predatory and dangerous. Her heart jumped, and every nerve ending tingled with awareness.
His gaze traveled down her length, making Catherine very much aware that she wore nothing beneath the cream satin robe knotted loosely at her waist. Her skin shivered with anticipation under his leisurely regard. When their eyes finally met once again, he reached behind him and locked the door. The quiet click reverberated through her mind, and she desperately tried to recall the Guide’s sage advice on how to greet one’s lover after a night spent naked in his arms. Her common sense screamed that he shouldn’t be here, that she didn’t want him here. Her bedchamber was her sanctuary. Her haven. Hers. Unfortunately, the pounding of her heart drowned out her common sense.
He walked slowly toward her, looking very much like a sleek jungle cat stalking its prey, and her heart rate doubled at the ravenous gleam in his eyes. As she seemed suddenly incapable of movement or speech, she waited for him to stop, to smile, to say good morning, but he did none of those things. Instead, he walked right up to her, wordlessly pulled into his arms, and lowered his mouth to hers.
Oh, my. It was her last coherent thought as she simply gave herself over to his demanding kiss. His clean scent surrounded her, as did the heat of his body. The strength of his arms. The urgent press of his thighs against hers.
She parted her lips and was rewarded with the sensual sweep of his tongue against hers. And his hands, those glorious, large, callused hands that could only be described as magical, seemed to be everywhere. Combing through her hair. Skimming down her back. Cupping her buttocks. Palming her breasts. All while his mouth devoured hers with a fierce hunger that left her breathless and starving for more. Had it only been a few hours since she’d been in his arms? Somehow it felt like years.
His arms tightened around her, and she reveled in his strength, lifting up on her toes, straining closer to him. Then he suddenly changed the pace of their frantic kiss, gentling it to a slow, deep melding of mouths and tongues that dissolved her knees. When he finally lifted his head, she wasn’t certain she could recall her name.
“Good morning, Catherine,” he whispered against her lips.
Catherine. Yes, of course. That is my name.
She supposed she murmured good morning, but she wasn’t quite certain. He leaned forward and nuzzled his lips against the sensitive juncture where her neck met her shoulder. “You smell incredible.” His warm breath sluiced over her skin, eliciting a barrage of heated shivers. “Like a flower garden.”
Summoning her strength, she pointed toward the brass tub set in the corner of the room. “I just finished bathing.”
He turned his head, looked toward the tub, then groaned. “Do you mean to say that if I’d arrived only minutes earlier, I’d have caught you in the bath?”
“I’m afraid so.”
His teeth lightly tugged on her earlobe. “I shall have to see about correcting my lamentable timing. Although, I don’t know that my heart could have withstood the sight of you in the bath. Do you have any idea how the sight of you, simply standing there in your robe, affected me?”
She leaned backed in the circle of his arms. Surely she meant to be demure. Coy. Instead, the simple truth rushed from her lips. “Yes. Because seeing you enter my bedchamber, with desire in your eyes, affected me the same way.” Warmth rushed into her cheeks at the admission. “Why are you here?”
“I needed to speak with you.” He hesitated, then said, “I’m afraid I must return to London. Today. As soon as possible.”
Dismay and disappointment filled her. “I see. Is something amiss?”
“A break-in and some vandalism at the museum. There was nothing there to steal, but apparently the building sustained considerable damage. I need to see how extensive the repairs will be, so I can report to Philip. I’ll also need to talk to the investors, allay any fears they may have. The last thing Philip and I need is nervous investors.”
She rested her palm against his cheek in a gesture of commiseration and sympathy. He looked so very grim. “How awful. I’m so sorry this has happened.”
“As am I. Not only for the obvious reasons regarding the museum, but also because I have no wish to leave here. I was very much looking forward to spending the day with you and Spencer.” His eyes darkened. “And the night with you.”
Desire fluttered through her veins, and she swallowed before asking, “Are you... planning to return to Little Longstone?”
“Yes.”
A breath she hadn’t realized she held pushed past her lips. “When?”
“I’m hoping tomorrow.”
“Please consider my stable at your disposal.”
“Thank you. The journey will be quicker if I travel on horseback rather than coach. I’ll do my best to arrive here by early evening, but I may be later.”
“I see. Will you... meet me tomorrow night?”
“When and where?”
She considered for a moment. “Midnight. At the springs. I want...”
He cradled her face in his hands, his eyes searching hers. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to make love to me in the warm waters.”
Something that looked like fear, but surely wasn’t flickered in his eyes, but it vanished so quickly she decided she must have been mistaken. He brushed a soft kiss against her mouth. “It will be my very great pleasure to grant your wish, Catherine.”
His words caressed her lips, shooting want to her core. “Tomorrow might, the springs, at midnight,” she murmured in a breathless whisper. Passion, desire, lust, all so new, all so long denied, swamped her. “Andrew... I don’t want to wait until tomorrow night.”
He lifted his head, and the inferno burning in his gaze singed her. “Be careful what you wish for Catherine, because you are only seconds away from—”
“Being led astray?” Stepping back from his embrace, she unknotted the sash to her robe, then shrugged the satin from her shoulders, where it fell to a soft heap at her feet.
He watched her robe slither down her body, leaving her naked. His entire body tensed, filling her with a heady sense of feminine power and satisfaction.
“Led astray?” he repeated softly, taking a step closer to her. “Hmmm. Yes, that is definitely a possibility.”
“Only a possibility?” She made a tsking sound, then backed up another step, then another, until she leaned against the wall. “How... disappointing.”
He erased the distance between them in one stride, then braced his hands on the wall on either side of her, bracketing her in. His heated gaze raked over her, a muscle ticking in his jaw, and her breath hitched.
“Is that what you want, Catherine? To be led astray?”
“I’m not certain precisely what that entails, but it sounds... tantalizing.”
“I’d be delighted to show you.”
She splayed her hands against his chest, further emboldened by the rapid pounding of his heart against her palms. Her entire body quickened in anticipation of his touch. “Excellent. I’m looking forward to a proper good-bye.”
“My darling Catherine, there is nothing the least bit proper about the good-bye you’re about to receive.”
His mouth covered hers in a searing, devouring kiss. She slid her hands inside his jacket to stroke his back, feeling a desperate, overwhelming need to touch, to be touched everywhere at once. With a ragged groan, he deepened their kiss,
his tongue plunging and stroking while he filled his hands with her aching breasts, his fingers teasing her sensitive nipples, which begged for more. His lips left her mouth, and he pressed hot, fervent kisses across her jaw, down her neck, then skimmed over her chest. His tongue laved drugging swirls around her aroused nipples before drawing each aroused bud into the velvety heat of his mouth. Catherine arched her back in a silent plea to taste more of her, and he obliged, while she tangled her fingers in his thick, silky hair She squirmed against him, and in response he sank to his knees, trailing openmouthed kisses along her stomach. Her muscles quivered when he tasted the indentation of her navel. She sucked in a breath, filling her head with an erotic scent she recognized as her own feminine musk, combined with Andrew’s sandalwood.
“Spread your legs for me, Catherine,” he demanded in a raw rasp, the words vibrating against her stomach.
Feeling as if she were burning from the inside out, she obeyed, and he rewarded her by stroking the swollen, wet folds between her thighs. A gasp, followed by a long purr of pleasure rippled in her throat, and she gripped his shoulders.
He pressed his lips to the sensitive skin just below her navel, then his lips glided lower, lower, until his tongue caressed her as his fingers just had.
Amazing, shocking sensations ripped through her. She closed her eyes and pressed her head against the wall, inflamed beyond reason as he cupped her bottom in his palms and made love to her with his mouth, worshiping, tormenting her with his lips and tongue until she thought she’d go mad from the pleasure. Her climax roared through her, flashes of all-consuming fire, dragging a harsh cry from her lips.
Her spasms had no sooner subsided than he stood and swiftly carried her to the bed, where he laid her upon the counterpane. With exquisite tremors still rippling through her, she held out her arms, silently beseeching him to come to her, desperate to feel his delicious weight, the thrust of his arousal inside her. The five seconds it required him to free his erection from his breeches seemed to her like an eternity. He loomed over her, settling himself between her splayed thighs, and entered her in one long, smooth, heart-stopping stroke.
Their gazes locked, and with every nuance of his intense expression visible in the soft sunlight filtering through the curtains, he moved slowly within her, penetrating deep, then almost withdrawing from her body, only to sink deep once again. Her hands strayed restlessly over his back, then gripped his shoulders. He quickened his strokes, and she moaned, meeting, accepting, savoring his every thrust. She arched her back, and her pleasure overtook once more. A masculine moan, sounding as if scraped from his throat, echoed in the room. He buried his head in the V of her shoulder and shuddered his release, murmuring her name over and over, like a prayer.
Breathing hard, Andrew rolled onto his side, bringing her with him, then closed his eyes and fought to regain control. Bloody hell, this woman, their lovemaking, rendered him vanquished. Vulnerable. More raw and exposed man he’d ever felt in his entire life. How would he bear it if she did not return his feelings? Didn’t want him to be part of her life permanently? She cared, he could tell she did. But did she care enough?
When the world righted itself again, he leaned back and brushed her tousled hair from her flushed face. She dragged her eyes open with obvious effort, and he swallowed a groan of longing at the slumberous, languorous smolder in her golden brown depths. Surely there was something he should say to her. God knows his heart was close to bursting with all he felt for her. But he feared saying too much. Worried that if he spoke, he wouldn’t stop until he told her she owned his heart. Had owned it for much longer than she knew. Would always own it. Yet he knew he wouldn’t be able to contain the words much longer. Soon, she would know. And he prayed to God that telling her wouldn’t cost him what they now shared. Because as miraculous as it was, having her body simply wasn’t enough.
For several seconds she said nothing, just looked at him with an expression that seemed troubled. And confused. Then her expression cleared and a tiny smile lifted one corner of her lips, coaxing him to touch his lips to the spot. “Oh, my.” She sighed. “I just added to my list of firsts. That was my first time being led astray. I hope it isn’t my last.”
“I’d be delighted to oblige you at any time, my lady. You’ve only to ask.”
“I very much enjoyed my proper good-bye, Andrew.”
He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. “That’s because it was your improper good-bye. And if you enjoyed that, I’m certain you’ll like tomorrow night’s proper, or rather improper, hello even more.”
“Oh, my. What does that mean?”
“I cannot tell you. It is a surprise.” When she appeared about to argue, he said, “Do I need to fetch the dictionary?”
“No.”She tilted her chin, feigning sticking her nose in the air. “However, I am therefore not going to tell you about the surprise I have planned.”
“A surprise? For me?”
“Perhaps,”she said airily.
“What is it?”
“Ha! Who requires the dictionary now?”
“How about a hint? Just a tiny one?” he asked, holding his thumb and forefinger close together.
A delightful sound that could only be described as a giggle bubbled from between her lips. “Absolutely not.”
Leaning forward, he brushed his tongue over the delicate shell of her ear. “Please?”
“Ooh. Well, perhaps... no. Definitely not.”
“Ah, a woman of strong will,” he murmured, skimming his fingers lightly down the center of her spine.
“As Today’s Modern Woman should be.”
“However, Today’s Modern Woman also knows that it is wise to make an indelible impression in her gentleman’s mind so he cannot ever completely dismiss her from his thoughts. Giving me a miniscule hint regarding the nature of your surprise would surely whet my appetite and guarantee that you’d remain uppermost in my mind while I’m away.”
She went perfectly still—except for her eyes, which narrowed. “What did you say?”
“That by giving me a hint—”
“Before that.”
Andrew frowned and thought for several seconds. “I believe I said, ‘Today’s Modern Woman also knows that it is wise to make an indelible impression in her gentleman’s mind so he cannot ever completely dismiss her from his thoughts.' Is that what you’re referring to?”
“Yes.”Her eyes narrowed further. “Where did you learn such a dung?”
“Why, from A Ladies‘ Guide, of course.”
Andrew had to clench his jaw to keep a straight face at her dumbfounded expression. “How on earth would you know what was written in A Ladies Guide?”
“Brace yourself, my dear, but one often does learn something when one reads.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve read the Guide.”
“Very well, I won’t tell you that, but why you’d want me to lie to you is a mystery.”
“You read the Guide?”
“Every word. Cover to cover.”
“When? Where? How?”
“Such an inquisitive nature. Let me see. As to when, the night before last—before we met at the springs. As for where, in my bedchamber. And to answer how, I purchased a copy the morning we departed London. Our conversation at your father’s party intrigued me, and I decided to read the tome to see what all the fuss was about. And I must confess, I was somewhat contrarily driven by the fact that you seemed so positive I would not read such drivel.”
“That was your description, not mine.”
“Was it? Well, I stand corrected.”
“Meaning what precisely?”
“That I found the Guide very... informative. And well written.”
There was no missing the smug satisfaction that fired in her eyes. “I believe I mentioned as much.”
“You did. Indeed, you defended the book and the author with the sort of fierce loyalty a mother tiger normally bestows upon her cubs.”
Crimson suffused her cheeks,
and she averted her gaze. He brushed the pad of his thumb over the wash of brilliant color. “Surely you can understand why the book is causing such a scandal.”
Her blush deepened. “Yes, but I believe the information it provides women far outweighs any trodden-upon sensibilities. Charles Brightmore should be praised for what he’s done.”
“Again you fiercely defend him. Almost as if you... knew him.”
She pressed her lips together, then shifted out of his embrace. He let her go, watching her slide off the bed, then retrieve her robe, slipping her arms into the silk sleeves. After she’d tightened the sash around her waist, she turned to face him, her eyes intense with suppressed emotion.
“I defend him because God knows I wish I’d had access to the information provided by the Guide before I’d wed. Or at any time during the early days of my marriage. I went to my marriage bed knowing nothing about what to do or what to expect. I did not know women could experience pleasure during lovemaking. I had no idea lovemaking involved anything more than a few minutes in a darkened room with my nightgown rucked up to my waist. I didn’t know that the warmth that began during those few minutes could, if properly tended, ignite into a blazing inferno that scorched everything in its path. I did not know I was capable of the sort of lust and hunger that I’d always associated with men. Charles Brightmore taught me all those things and more. He taught me, encouraged me, to allow myself to feel those things. And to act upon them.”
“I see. You know, I’ve heard rumors that suggest Brightmore may in fact be a woman,” he remarked casually, watching her.
“Indeed? Where did you hear that?”
He rose, and adjusted his clothing while he spoke. “Most recently at your father’s birthday party. Personally, I think it’s intriguing, and entirely possible. Brightmore writes with an understanding of women that I’ve never before encountered in a man, no matter how sophisticated or worldly.” He smiled. “In case you aren’t aware, women are notoriously difficult to understand, yet Brightmore clearly does not suffer from the same confusions as the rest of us poor males.”
LOVE AND THE SINGLE HEIRESS Page 22
