by Alexia Praks
She nodded, her eyes glistening with fresh tears. He turned her body around, and they started off.
Christine suddenly felt very tired and very safe. She leaned her head and aching body against his chest and closed her eyes. She dozed off with a content smile playing around her lips. Merrick wrapped his arms around her.
An hour later they were home, and Merrick walked Starlight toward the stables. He shifted his position and woke Christine. She opened her eyes and looked around wildly. Then she felt Merrick’s presence, felt his power radiating around her. She felt safe. Merrick jumped down from the stallion and stood looking at her.
“Welcome home,” he whispered.
Christine wanted to cry again. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her down from the saddle. When she was on the ground, she still had her arms around his neck. She offered her face to him. She wanted to kiss him.
Merrick removed her arms and stood back, watching her.
That darn man. He had rejected her again. All she had wanted to do was to thank him. With pain in her heart, she turned and marched out of the stables, away from the unfeeling beast.
Though her legs were very tired, she forced herself to walk. Then halfway across the courtyard, one leg buckled. She fell to her knees. She grunted in pain. She stared down at the dirt, feeling the ache in her knees intensifying. Then she felt her body lifted upward. She found herself in Merrick’s arms.
“I think you have walked enough for one day,” he said.
So many feelings consumed her then. Tears streamed down her face.
“Now, don’t cry. You are home now.” He mocked her, half laughing.
She shook her head, meaning that she didn’t really want to cry, but the tears just came out by themselves. He smiled his beautiful, heart-stopping smile at her and carried her into the Hall.
TWELVE
Merrick heard the door open. He knew who it was without looking around. In his mind and heart, he wanted to turn and take the person into his arms. But of course, he couldn’t do that. He stood there, his manner easy and his stance at ease, entirely the opposite of the turbulence of his feelings, which were erupting inside him, eating him alive.
Christine came in, as she had been summoned by Mrs. Ross to attend Merrick because Paris had taken a day off, and the woman went on to inform her that Merrick had specifically asked for her. She knew Merrick was going to take his guests to the Robinson’s lunch party this afternoon. That was why she had refused to go with them, knowing that he would probably leave her to her loneliness and spend most of his time with those women. She certainly didn’t want to witness him acting stupid because of them.
She came toward him, staring up at the big man gazing out of the window. He was very quiet, she realized. In fact, since that day she had run away, he had become utterly reserved around her. If she had tried to get close to him, he would retreat. The meaning of his expression was clear to her. He didn’t want to be near her.
“Merrick?” she began.
He turned then, his eyes gazing at her.
“So you are here,” he said and walked around her, keeping as much distance between them as possible, as if she had something contagious. He avoided her deliberately.
“Merrick?” she managed again.
“Get the black one, Chris. That will do,” he told her, staring down at her from the far side of the room. There were sparks of starvation in his eyes that Christine did not recognize. Those eyes feasted upon her, hungered after her, wanting to make wild, passionate love to her.
She went to the wardrobe and gathered all his clothing for him to change. She placed it on the bed, and then she advanced toward him.
He hesitated, stiffened, prepared to run if necessary.
Christine frowned at this and wondered why he was acting the way he was. She came to stand right in front of him and started to unbutton his shirt.
Merrick shut his eyes and breathed deeply, trying very hard to control his feelings. All he wanted to do at that moment was to take her into his arms. But of course, he couldn’t do that. He needed to discipline himself.
Slowly, Christine undid the buttons on his shirt. When she was finished, she opened it wider, revealing his smooth, muscular chest. She wanted to touch it. Her hands itched, and her stomach felt hollow.
She opened the shirt wider and then tried to slip it off his shoulders. But she was small, and trying to take his shirt off his shoulders and back was impossible. He wasn’t very helpful either for he just stood there as stiff as a rock. She bit her lips as her frustration mounted. She was frustrated because he wasn’t helping her. Her skin felt tingly, and she had goose bumps all over. She felt hot and cold at the same time.
She glanced up at him. His face was a mask. She stamped her foot and jumped up to jerk the shirt from around his shoulders. She got one side down, and it was going well. Then she hovered around him, trying to pull the other side down. She tiptoed, and with one hand she reached for his neck and with the other up to his shoulder. She was very close to him now, her face only inches from his. Her bound breasts rubbed slightly against his bare chest as she slid the shirt off his other shoulder.
Merrick sucked in his breath. He closed his eyes and prayed for control.
Christine jumped back. She then ran to the bed and retrieved the clean shirt for him. She prepared to put it on for him when he stopped her.
“Chris, I think it’s better for you to go,” he said, snatching the shirt from her.
“But, Merrick—” She halted when she saw that his eyes were flashing fire at her.
“For God’s sake, Chris, I told you to go,” he scolded.
She marched out of the room.
Merrick stared after her little form with longing.
Luncheon at the Robinson’s seemed rather dry and tasteless to Merrick, though the guests seemed to enjoy themselves. His mind kept straying back to Christine. The violet eyes kept haunting him. He had tried, God, how he had tried so hard to shut out the image, but it didn’t seem to work in the least. He was bloody glad when luncheon was finally over and they could leave.
Back at Huntingdon Hall, the guests went to their rooms to rest, and Merrick went straight to the stables and saddled Starlight himself. He then rode out fast across the wide meadow and into the woods. Once there, he climbed down and tethered the horse to one of the trees. He walked farther alone to seek his hiding place.
He seated himself comfortably, staring out into the calm lake. Aye, this was the place where he could think. The afternoon sun was very hot, and the heat burned into his neck.
Splash!
Merrick scanned the lake. He saw nothing. The water was motionless and quiet. He did not want to be accidentally shot at by a poacher again. He wanted to ensure that if anybody was poaching in his woods, this time he would be able to see the hunter’s face. He took another scan of his surrounding. As he narrowed his eyes against the shimmering light, he saw a head emerging from the water. The person was facing the waterfall, away from him. He thought he had seen the person somewhere before, but he couldn’t be sure when and where. He heard the person giggle a nice, girlish sound. The echo was pure from the heart.
A moment later he saw a young woman’s slender shoulders, which were glistening with wet droplets of water. He could feel his manly member responding. Damnation, how could a person that far away affect him so strongly? Besides that, he could not even see the woman’s face.
With the water still up to her chin, she glided toward the falling water. Once there, she took one slender hand and cupped the dropping liquid. She gave another giggle. Damn, but that sound affected his senses.
The girl went under the showering water and turned around. She delicately raised her head up, closing her eyes, and opened her pouting lips to allow the water into her mouth.
Good Lord! Merrick felt his stomach lurch. He could feel his temper rise. He clenched and unclenched his hands, hard. His whole body tensed. He gritted his teeth. God, damnation, was he h
allucinating?
Merrick stared hard. His eyes intent on the small form playing in that lake like a child. She was having the happiest time of her damn life. And why didn’t he see it long ago? See that Chris was a girl!
She had done a good job though, hiding under the boys’ clothing.
Hell! When he got his hands on that girl he’d—damn, but what could he do? Aye, he knew what he would do. He’d teach her a lesson she’d never forget.
* * *
Christine was having the happiest time of her life. The falling water felt good on her skin. It showered down on her from above and kissed her sensitive skin until it was red.
She started to feel her undergarment, not to mention her binding, sticking uncomfortably tight onto her skin. Hastily, she undid the buttons of her undergarment and yanked it off her body. She placed it between her small teeth so that it wouldn’t float away. She then proceeded to undo her binding. Once released, her breasts spilled out, expanding from the limited space. She felt a lot better. She took her shirt from her mouth and swam toward the rock. Midway, she halted and threw the things onto the rock with her other pile of clothing. When she hit the spot, she laughed aloud. She then swam the rest of way to the rock and pushed herself on top of it. She smiled while she stroked the short strands of hair with her fingers.
Sweet Jesus! Merrick saw her breasts. They were very beautiful. It would be honey sweet to put his mouth onto those beautiful breasts. He wanted to jump out of his hiding place and make love to her. He wanted to put his tongue into her mouth and explore it. He wanted to kiss her creamy skin all over.
Christine felt a butterfly sensation in her stomach. She felt an odd excitement in her very being and a bizarre ache down below her stomach. This warm and nice sensation ran down the whole length of her body. She felt her skin tingle. Suddenly, she felt as though someone was watching her. She turned to look around. Fear sank in. She hurriedly put on her breeches and shirt and boots, but she forgot about her binding. Once she was dressed, she ran as fast as she could from the clearing into the woods and out into meadow and back to the safety of Huntingdon Hall. It would be safe there for her, she thought.
* * *
Merrick was lying on his bed when he heard the door open. He sat up, knowing he—nay, she was back from her bathing, back from having a marvelous time when all the while she was betraying him and lying to him. God, she had even lied to him when she said she had never bathed naked before, and then there she was, all naked, and her goddesslike breasts—
He became aroused.
He got up and stormed to her bedroom. He jerked the door open, slammed it shut again, and just stood there. His arms were folded across his massive chest, which was heaving with anger that was ready to unleash on his victim.
“Huh!” Christine jumped. She saw him standing in front of the door, glaring at her. The color of his eyes was as dark as the storms in those formidable Scottish seas, and they were very intense. She suddenly felt very frightened. It was like he wanted to do something to her—something nasty and very bad.
Merrick stood as still and as silent as a lion—watching, waiting for its prey to make a move. He stared at the young woman who had paraded herself as a boy right in front of his very fine, aristocratic nose. Not to mention his stupid eyes and everybody else in this damn household as well.
He could sense her fear. He could sense her trembling. He smiled inwardly. He didn’t move, just stood there with his feet apart and hands clasped behind him. He was very much a master in command.
“Merrick,” she said. Then she took a big breath as though the very word might kill her. She had never felt like this with him before. She looked up into his face. Oh God! She shouldn’t have done that for he looked ever so forbidding. She swallowed hard and tried again.
“Merrick, you are not with the others?”
He didn’t answer her. Instead, he slowly moved toward her. His action was like that of a predator advancing toward its prey that had nowhere to run to.
“Merrick, are you angry that I didn’t go to the lunch party?” she whispered and looked down at her boots when he came to a stop in front of her. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. Her heart was beating like mad, and she could feel her body on fire. She could feel him staring down at her, commanding her to look up at him. But she couldn’t. Looking up into those eyes would kill her for sure.
Merrick grabbed her small chin. Her skin felt soft beneath his palm. He caressed it. He could feel her shivering beneath his touch. He smiled. Abruptly, he tilted her face to his. There he stared into a brilliant pair of eyes he had never seen before. They were misted with tears, shining like precious jewels.
“I’m not angry, Chris. I’ve got a headache,” he said, and he squeezed her chin to control himself. He slowly moved his hand up to caress her cheek. He then stroked down to her nape, and lower still, down to her shoulder, while they stared at each other like fire consuming, enhancing the flame of his feelings.
“You’re not feeling well? Then you must lie down.” She took hold of his hand and led him to the bed.
“Wait here. I’ll go and find Mrs. Ross,” she told him and was ready to run off when Merrick caught her arm.
“You don’t have to go, Chris. My headache usually goes away by itself, but there is one thing that you can do to make it better faster.” He smiled mischievously.
“What, Merrick? What can I do?” she asked eagerly.
“You can massage my forehead. It’ll make me feel better,” he told her.
Christine shivered involuntarily, and she felt a burning sensation beneath the pit of her stomach. “Really? Would it make you feel better?” she whispered as though struggling to form the words.
“Really,” he encouraged her and lay down on her bed.
Christine moved closer to him and tentatively began to massage his forehead. Merrick liked that feeling very much. Her fingers were soft and gentle. If only he could make love to her. He wondered how she would react if he unmasked her and revealed her deception.
“Are you feeling better now?” Christine asked some moments later, leaning down to look at him.
“Nay, Chris. Keep going and don’t talk. No wait, massage over here.” He gently touched her hands and moved them to his temples.
She did his bidding.
“Hmm, that feels good. Keep going, Chris. Don’t stop. No, move down, yes, to the back of my neck. Aye, there’s a good lad,” he said and looked up at her. He saw that she was blushing and her eyes were bright.
“Move down here, to my shoulder,” he commanded.
She obeyed his order. His muscles were so hard and smooth and felt warm under her touch. She could sense him watching her every move. She tried not to look at him and instead concentrated on her massaging hands.
Merrick placed his fingers on her hand, and slowly he caressed her.
“Merrick!” she said breathlessly.
“What’s the matter, Chris? Is something bothering you?” he asked as he gently and lightly stroked her forearm.
“Merrick,” she said again, blinking several times.
“Hmm? You want to ask me something?” He raised his brows. His hand was on her shoulder blade now, gently caressing.
“Merrick, are you feeling better now?” she asked, wishing that he’d move his hand away and stop bothering with her senses.
“No, Chris, not better yet. Keep going. You wish me to be sick?” he asked.
“Nay, I wouldn’t wish you to be sick, sir, not at all.” She assured him and resumed her job with a forced smile.
“That’s good to hear. You are very loyal, are you not, Chris?” he asked.
“Aye, I am very loyal,” she said and shifted slightly so that his hand dropped from her shoulder. He would have none of her discouragement and resumed caressing her.
“You would not lie to me about whatever secrets you have?” he asked again.
“Nay,” she replied. Merrick continued to stroke the length of her slender arm and then swif
tly slipped his hand into the opened collar of her shirt. His hand met her bare skin, and he gave her a little squeeze.
“Merrick!” she screamed and jumped, trying in vain to get up from the bed.
Merrick wouldn’t let her go. Instead, he drew her toward him until there was hardly any space between them.
“Merrick? Plea—please let me go… you are well now,” she whispered as she tried to escape his imprisonment.
Merrick ignored her plea and began to stroke her bare skin.
“Your skin feels very soft, Chris. What kind of soap do you use?” he said as his eyes burnt with blue fire.
God, please do something, I beg you, anything to make him stop.
She couldn’t think what might happen if his hand moved lower and touched her breast.
Merrick slowly removed his fingers from her arm and steadily trailed them toward the back of her neck. Then he pulled her head down toward his. Christine tried to push herself up away from him, but it was no use. He was too strong. She couldn’t fight him. Their faces were coming closer, and he was smiling, looking at her in that bizarre way of his.
“Merrick, what are you going to do to me?” she asked nervously. He laughed and opened his mouth to reply when he was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“What the hell?” He loosened his grip on her neck. She took the chance to push him away and flew off the bed. He realized what had happened and frowned at her, telling her with his expression that one day she’d find out what he really wanted to do to her.
“I’ll get the door,” she said and rushed off. Merrick pushed himself up.
Christine opened the door only to see no one there. She stepped out and saw Lord Queensbury knocking on Merrick’s door. She turned to look at Merrick and said, “’Tis Lord Queensbury. He is at your door.”
“Well, hello, Chris,” Lord Queensbury said to Christine.
“Good afternoon to you, my lord,” Christine replied.
“Lord Queensbury,” Merrick said from behind her.
