Deciding to shelve that particular worry for later, she returned her attention to the topic at hand. “It would hold a great many people, I suppose.”
“More than that, it will give us room to grow. Once we start our family and the nursery’s bursting at the seams with babies, I imagine you’ll be glad of the extra room.”
She lost her breath at the idea. “Bursting at the seams! Just how many children are you expecting us to have?”
His blue eyes twinkled. “As many as we can manage, and as soon as may be,” he said, lowering his voice so she was the only one able to hear. “I look forward to keeping you very busy making them.”
“Jack!” she hushed. “In case you’ve forgotten, we aren’t alone.”
And she was right. The estate agent was still in the room, loitering on the far side with his hands tucked in his pockets as he stared out a window, pretending not to eavesdrop.
“So, other than the house being too big, have you any objection to it?” Jack asked quietly.
“No. It’s one of the prettiest places I’ve ever seen.” And truly it was. In spite of her reservations, she loved the house and knew she would be happy living in it.
Something about the tenor of her thoughts must have shown, since moments later Jack turned toward the other man. “We’ll take it,” he declared.
A big smile appeared on the estate agent’s face. “Excellent, my lord. This is as fine a town house as I’ve ever seen. I knew from the start that it would please you and your bride-to-be.”
Jack nodded, a sudden impatience radiating from him. “Why don’t you go downstairs and draw up the necessary papers. Miss Danvers and I wish to look around a little bit more. We’ll find you when we’re ready.”
The agent raised a pair of brows at the request, but he was clearly too excited at the prospect of a sale to offer any sort of protest. “Of course, my lord. Take all the time you need.” With a bow, the little man hurried away.
As soon as he’d gone, Jack strode across the room and pulled the door closed. Turning back, he crossed to her and pulled her into his arms.
She gave a surprised laugh.
“Now, what was I saying?” he mused aloud. “Something about babies and the delightful ways they’re made.”
Her heart beat so hard that she felt it in her shoes. “Jack! I thought you said you wanted to look around some more.”
He shook his head. “All I want to look at is you. Now, give me a kiss.”
“Here?” she gasped.
“Yes, here. In case you hadn’t realized, it’s been thirty-three days, twelve hours and forty-one minutes since I last had you in my bed.”
“You know how many hours it’s been?” she said, awed by the knowledge that he’d been keeping count.
“Close enough to make a fair guess,” he admitted. “Now, let’s stop talking. We’re wasting precious time.” Capturing her mouth, he gave her a kiss that sent hot rivulets of need surging through her veins.
Fighting her own desire, she soon broke away. “W-we can’t. Not with the estate agent waiting downstairs. What if he comes to check on us?”
“He won’t.” His lips moved in a silky glide over her neck. “But should he be so foolish, he’ll no doubt get an eyeful.”
Her own eyes widened, enough to draw a laugh from him.
“Don’t worry. I’m only teasing,” he said. “He won’t see a thing. Not with the door locked.”
He’d locked the door? She didn’t remember seeing a key. But if Jack said he’d locked it, then he must have done exactly that.
Relaxing, she leaned farther into the circle of his arms. “Well, maybe we could stay in here for a couple of minutes. If he asks, we’ll tell him we were measuring for drapes.”
Jack’s eyes were the ones to widen this time. He barked out a laugh before sliding his hands down to cup her bottom. “Come closer, minx, and let me measure you.”
Then his lips were on hers again, stealing her breath and making her mind grow hazy with a rush of staggering delight.
Jack kissed her long and deep, with a driving need that radiated all the way to his bones. Pausing, he took an extra moment to breathe in the honeyed fragrance of her skin, to taste the sweet flavour of her tongue as it slid like hot, damp silk against his own.
He shuddered from the pleasure, relishing the sensations as though they were manna from heaven. After more than a month of sexual deprivation, his need was sharp—his recitation of precisely how many days had passed since their last coupling, and of his intense desire for her, no exaggeration.
Another man would likely have taken his ease elsewhere by now; there were certainly plenty of willing women to be had here in the city. But the act would have felt wrong, serving as yet another betrayal of Grace’s trust. Even more significant was his personal reluctance to avail himself of another woman. He didn’t want anyone else. He wanted Grace.
Unfortunately, with her residing in her father’s house, and with members of his own family in almost constant attendance, there weren’t many opportunities to be alone. Actually, until today, there’d been absolutely none, since the only time they’d been together unchaperoned was for carriage rides and walks in the park.
But she was in his arms now and he meant to make the most of it. He knew he couldn’t take matters to their ultimate conclusion, but he could certainly indulge himself. Indulge her, as well.
Sliding his hands more fully over the supple curves of her delicious derriere, he fit her closer, settling his erection against the V of her thighs as he claimed her mouth for an even deeper kiss. Her hands came up to clutch his shoulders, her breasts pressing in soft mounds against his chest.
Lifting his hand, he cupped one, savouring the shape and fullness of her feminine form. Even through the barrier of her shift and stays, he felt her body’s response, her nipple drawing into a hard bud that begged to be lavished with attention and praise.
He obliged as much as he could, given his limitations, strumming her flesh with firm strokes of his fingers. Little whimpers hummed in her throat, sounds he’d come to crave the way he did food or water. And yet there was something he wanted even more. Something he knew he had no right to covet or demand. Still, even as he tried to shunt aside the desire, it came upon him again.
Leaving her mouth, he traced a path across her cheek to her ear, catching the lobe between his teeth for a half-playful, half-savage nip. “Tell me, Grace,” he demanded, his voice husky and a bit raw.
“Tell you what?” she repeated, dreamy and low.
“Tell me how you feel. Do you love me?”
“Yes. You know I do,” she said without hesitation.
His lips glided over hers, making quick, plucking forays. “Then say it. Tell me what I want to hear.”
She met his gaze, eyelids heavy with passion, her mouth swollen and red from his kisses. “I love you,” she whispered.
He drank in the words, needing them for reasons he couldn’t fathom, yet requiring the warmth they left behind. “Again. Tell me again.”
“I love you.” Her arms wound around his neck. “I’ve never loved a man the way I love you, and I never will. Kiss me, Jack. There’s nothing better in the world.”
And he did, taking her mouth in a fervid joining that left them both shaking. Hunger roared inside him like a beast, tearing apart the restraints he’d placed upon himself.
Without really even knowing what he was doing, he danced her backward toward the wall. When they reached it, he pressed her gently against the smooth painted plaster, her hair a fiery slash of colour against the pale cream surface. She looked beautiful, her skin flushed, her eyes a pure, vibrant blue.
Reaching out, he began gathering the material of her skirt into his hands.
“Jack?”
“Shh,” he hushed, kissing her again with deep, drugging need.
She made another throaty hum—a sound that shot straight to his groin this time. Yielding to the persuasion of his kiss, she leaned her head against th
e wall, pliant as his hands curved around the bare skin of her thighs just above her ribboned garters. He touched her there for a few long moments before gliding higher.
Up he went, bunching the silk of her gown so that it collected around her waist and over his forearms. Coaxing open her thighs, he slid a pair of fingers inside her, the action drawing a convulsive shiver from her more than willing body. Moisture gathered against his hand, easing his way as he pleasured her further, her moans muffled against his open mouth.
Curving his other hand around her naked buttocks, he lifted her a couple inches higher so that she was balanced on the very tips of her toes. Clinging, she wrapped her arms tighter around his shoulders and held on as he worked his fingers in and out of her hot, moist folds.
He knew when she was on the edge, knew by the subtle tightening of her inner muscles against his hand that she was nearing her peak. Wanting her throbbing and desperate for his possession, he stopped just short of letting her claim her bliss.
Her eyes popped open at his withdrawal, her fingernails curling like talons into the material of his coat. “W-why are you stopping?”
“I’m not,” he assured her as he yanked open the buttons on his falls. “Just finding another method of satisfying you.”
“B-but surely you don’t mean to…to…”
“Take you here against the wall, even though the estate agent is waiting for us downstairs? I most certainly do.”
She stiffened at the reminder that they weren’t alone in the house. But he didn’t give her time for further consideration, as he spread her thighs wide and stepped between, lifting her as he did so that her toes were no longer touching the floor.
“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he ordered.
She complied, trembling against him in a clear combination of astonishment over their unusual position and her own raging need. He met her gaze, liking the fact that their faces were on the same level. Because of her height, he’d only had to raise her a few inches to find the proper angle. A perfect fit. Using their complementary heights to his advantage, he positioned himself again and thrust inside.
A moan puffed from her lips at his powerful penetration, her flesh clasping around his own like a hot, velvety glove. Since she was no longer a virgin, there was no pain this time. Still, her passage was narrow, her body taking a few long moments to accommodate his substantial size.
He swelled even more, lengthening, as his shaft set up a fierce, throbbing ache that demanded appeasement. Kissing her with rapacious hunger, he pumped inside, driving himself deep, then deeper still. Fast, then even faster.
Her eyes closed, and he felt her tighten her hold, clinging to him with complete trust as she gave him total control over her body. Adjusting her again for maximum pleasure, he thrust harder, finding exactly the right angle to bring her to peak.
She didn’t last long, quaking violently in his grasp as the crisis came upon her. He swallowed her cries in his mouth, her inner muscles squeezing him with a sleek, milking pressure that drove him wild.
Beyond control, he plunged inside her, thrusting several times with a force that made him want to shout. Instead, he bit his lip as he reached his own peak, quaking as he poured himself violently inside her.
Resting his face against her own, he kissed her. Slowly, he let her legs slide downward, holding her steady while she once again found her feet. Curving an arm against the wall above her head, he kept her nestled in the lee of his body.
“I can’t say I quite intended to do that, but neither am I sorry,” he murmured. “Are you all right?”
“F-fine. Wonderful, in fact.” She gave him a tremulous smile.
He smiled back, bending to kiss her again. “Good.”
Reaching out, he helped her straighten her dress. “You know something, Grace?”
“What?”
“I almost wish we hadn’t already settled on this house.”
“Why? Don’t you like it? Have you changed your mind?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just that I like house hunting with you. I’ll be sorry not to do it again.”
A becoming shade of pink spread into her cheeks.
He laughed. “Maybe we can come back again, though, to measure another room for drapes.”
A light frost coated the windows of the Danverses’ drawing room on St. Martin’s Lane. During the six weeks that had passed since Grace and Jack’s memorable house hunting expedition, fall had ceded dominion to winter and the advent of cold December days.
Cozy inside near the cheerfully burning fireplace, Grace reached for the Meissen shepherdess on the mantel. Taking particular care, she turned to wrap the delicate piece in tissue paper. Over the last several days, the servants had been busy packing her belongings for the move to Upper Brook Street, but there were a few special items she wanted to handle herself. This figurine was one of them, greatly cherished because it had once belonged to her mother.
She’d been surprised and deeply touched when Papa had suggested she take it with her, especially since she knew how much her mother’s remaining possessions meant to him.
“She’d want you to have it,” he’d told her in a hoarse tone. “To bring you peace and happiness in your new home. You’re to take her best silver service too. What use does an old widower like me have for such fancy bits and pieces?”
She smiled as she thought of his words, bending to lay the securely wrapped figurine into a small packing crate. Catching sight of a few books on a nearby shelf, she moved to retrieve them, knowing they would get far more use by her than by her father. She was placing them into the crate when a brief tap came at the door.
“Hallo, Grace,” said a voice she hadn’t heard in weeks.
Glancing up, she discovered Terrence Cooke standing in the doorway, a large folio in his hands. “I hope I’m not intruding,” he said, looking distinctly uncomfortable in a way she’d never seen him before. Then again, considering what had transpired between them the last time they’d been in the same room, his reticence was understandable.
His brows furrowed at her silence. “I can see you’re busy. I ought to have sent ’round a note. Forgive me.” Looking away, he began to turn.
“No. Oh, please don’t go,” she called out.
He stopped and met her gaze.
“I was only surprised to see you, that’s all.” She motioned toward a chair. “Come in and tell me how you’ve been and what you’ve been doing. Sit and I’ll have Martha bring us some tea and cream biscuits. You were always partial to Martha’s cream biscuits, as I recall.”
“Thank you, but no biscuits or tea,” he said, stopping her before she could cross to the bell pull. “I don’t intend to stay long. I only wanted to bring you these.”
Opening the folio, he drew out a thin leather sheath. “It’s your original watercolour drawings for the bird volume, or rather your bird volume, I should say. Production is underway and I wanted to return these to you now, so they don’t get lost.”
She clasped her hands at her waist, sadly aware of the tension that stood between them like a wall. “That is very kind of you to bring them yourself. Thank you.”
He nodded, directing his gaze off to one side. “I-I’ll just leave them here then, shall I?” Striding over to her writing desk, he placed the sheath on top. “Well, I…um…suppose I ought to go. Lots of work, you know.”
Was he really going to leave, just like that, with nothing more to be said between them?
“I intend to finish the flower folio,” she blurted. “Assuming you haven’t decided to cancel the contract and give the job to someone else.”
His sandy brows rose as he shook his head. “Of course I haven’t cancelled the contract.”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you had. I’ve been quite remiss about my painting lately. What with the wedding arrangements and the packing and the plans to go to Braebourne soon, there simply hasn’t been time. I ought to have written to let you know my intentions. My apologies, but I just wasn’t s
ure…”
“Wasn’t sure of what?”
“If you would want to hear from me again.”
Something shattered on his face. “But you’re the one who shouldn’t want to hear from me. After…well, after what happened in Bath I assumed I was the last person you would wish to see again. I’m sorry, Grace. Truly.”
“No, I’m the one who is sorry. I had no right to intrude on your privacy that day. I’ve felt dreadful ever since.”
One side of his mouth turned up in a rueful smile. “Believe me, I’ve felt worse. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought of coming here, of talking to you, or at least sending you a letter. I tried, but I always ended up tossing my attempts into the fire. I’ve missed you.”
She smiled. “I’ve missed you too. We were always such good friends.”
“We were,” he said with a nod. “I should like to be friends again. But I suppose that’s impossible now, what with your upcoming marriage.” His gaze dropped to his shoes. “Only think, you’ll be a lady soon. Lady John Byron. The papers are buzzing with news about your exclusive Society wedding to be held at the Duke of Clybourne’s principal estate.”
“You should come.”
He looked shocked. “To your wedding? No, I couldn’t come to your wedding.”
“Why not?” she countered, warming suddenly to the idea. “I haven’t seen Braebourne yet, but Jack tells me the house is nearly as large as a royal palace. There’s plenty of room, and you would be most welcome. I was told to invite anyone I like, so I shall advise the dowager duchess to add you to the guest list.”
“No, I couldn’t.”
“But—”
“I wouldn’t fit in, not in a room full of nobs.”
“You’d like them if you met them. They’re very nice nobs.”
He chuckled. “I’m sure they are. But it’s impossible, for too many reasons to count.” The smile fell from his face. “I thank you for the invitation, but I don’t want to sit and watch you get married. You may not believe it, but I do love you, even if it’s not in the conventional sense. I would have taken good care of you.”
Seduced By His Touch Page 15
