Staring solemnly at her reflection, Sammy reminded herself that her goal was monumental, nearly impossible to attain. With the exception of Boyd, she was certain Rem had never confided his pain or his fears in anyone. Conversely, she could never imagine wedding a man who refused to share himself with her. It was an insurmountable impasse.
She could hardly wait to surmount it and become Rem's wife.
Voices drifted up from outside her window, and Sammy peeked through the curtains curiously. She had to smile at what she saw.
In the drive, Boyd was assisting Cynthia into a waiting phaeton, evidently escorting her out for the evening. But what a different Cynthia it was! Laughing, her face aglow, garbed in a feminine blue day dress rather than her primly starched uniform ... Cynthia looked positively radiant. Beaming ear to ear, Boyd climbed in beside her and urged the horses into a trot.
A momentous day off for Cynthia, Sammy thought with a fond grin.
Her grin faded and her heart began to slam against her ribs as, in the phaeton's wake, Rem's closed carriage rounded the drive. A liveried footman scurried about to open the carriage door for the earl, and Rem emerged, all elegant sophistication and unmistakable sexuality.
Sammy wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. The moment of reckoning was upon her.
Steeling herself, Sammy smoothed the folds of her white muslin carriage dress once, twice, trying to still her raw nerves. At last she gave up, opening her bedchamber door in time to collide with a young serving girl.
"Forgive me, m'lady." The girl regained her balance and curtsied, a mortified blush staining her cheeks.
"The fault was mine," Sammy answered gently. "Did you come to tell me that the Earl of Gresham was here?"
"Yes, m'lady. I did."
"Then you've done your job ... and survived a collision with a clumsy and jittery dolt. Thank you."
The girl looked astounded. "Thank you, my lady." Eyes wide, she backed away, then turned and scooted off.
Sammy took a deep breath and started down the hall. Turning the corner, she nearly fell over a sprinting ball of fur that whizzed by her like a streak of white lightning.
"Rascal! For goodness sake!" Sammy clutched the wall for support.
Rascal slowed down only to bark triumphantly, then raced off with the coveted stocking he'd apparently pilfered from Cynthia's room.
Rolling her eyes, Sammy set off for the stairs again, determined to reach them without further mishap. Evidently it was not meant to be.
Rounding the second floor landing, she smacked into Aunt Gertrude, nearly catapulting the elderly woman down the entire flight.
"Oh, Aunt Gertie, I'm so sorry!" Sammy steadied her aunt, wondering if all these casualties heralding her way to Rem were a prelude to the obstacles she would soon face.
"No harm done," Gertrude assured her, blinking a bit. Then she gave Sammy a conspiratorial smile. "Besides, I know why you're in such a hurry! I just saw that handsome Earl of Gresham awaiting you in the sitting room."
"Yes, we're en route to Hyde Park." Guilt pricked at Sammy's conscience as she realized that she was on the verge, yet again, of going out without a proper chaperon. "Please join us, Aunt Gertie." The invitation nearly stuck in her throat. "I'm certain Remington would be delighted to have you as his guest."
"You're right. I do need a rest." Aunt Gertrude yawned. "Have a lovely time, dear." She patted Sammy's arm.
"But Cynthia is off today," Sammy felt compelled to add. "And I'm aware that—"
"A hat?" Gertrude paused, her eyes narrowed assessingly. "Yes, you should wear a hat; that dress cries out for one. Now, let me think. A hat... a hat. . ." She snapped her fingers. "I have just the thing. Wait here." She tottered off, excitement crackling about her. A moment or two later she returned, clutching a wide-brimmed straw hat boasting five rows of red satin ribbon, three huge lavender flowers in the front and a bevy of billowing yellow ostrich plumes around the rim.
Sammy didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"Here, dear." Gertrude pressed the monstrosity into Sammy's hands. "I insist that you wear it to impress that splendid escort of yours."
"But—"
"No buts. Be off with you!" Aunt Gertrude shooed Sammy toward the stairs.
Still dazed, Sammy complied. What more could she do? She'd tried, several times in fact, to do the proper thing. She had no intention of giving Fate another opportunity to change her mind. Hat in hand, Sammy descended the steps and entered the sitting room.
"Hello, Rem."
He turned instantly, that devastating smile curving his lips, revealing his dimple. "You look beautiful, imp." He absorbed her slowly, possessively, his gaze openly intimate and caressing. Suddenly, his brow furrowed. "What is that?"
Biting back laughter, Sammy tucked the hat beneath her arm. "I'll explain later. Can we go now?"
"Alone?" His question emanated heated longing.
Sammy nodded.
"Come." He asked no further questions.
The moment the carriage left the drive, Rem pulled the curtains closed and swung across to sit beside Sammy.
"How much time do we have?" she asked softly, staring at her clenched hands.
"I told my driver to keep circling the park until I tell him otherwise."
"Good. We have much to discuss."
"No, imp, we don't." He raised her chin with a gentle forefinger. "You're going to be my wife. That's all there is to discuss." His gaze fell to her mouth. "Frankly, I'd hoped to put these hours to better use."
"Rem, I'm not a plaything. I'm a woman."
"I know." He brushed his lips over hers.
"Oh, Rem," Sammy wasn't certain why, but she had a sudden, desperate need for him to hold her. She pressed closer, laying her head on his shoulder, seeking some level of comfort that only he could give.
Rem seemed to understand, perhaps better than she. His arms closed around her, enveloping her in his strength, his warmth. "Don't be afraid, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath ruffling her hair. "Everything is going to be all right."
"I am afraid. And I don't even know why."
"Last night nearly brought me to my knees." Rem's voice was a husky caress. "What happened between us was beyond anything I've ever encountered, even remotely, in the past. So, isn't it natural that you, who came to my bed a complete and total innocent, would be a bit shattered by its intensity? I know I was ... I still am."
"I want more." Sammy gripped the lapels of his coat.
"I know you do." Rem didn't pretend to misunderstand. "And I'll give you everything I have to give."
She raised her head. "I shall never ask for more than that."
He kissed her; a slow, melting exploration of her mouth. "Would it help if I told you I never even believed myself capable of this much?"
Sammy smiled against his lips. "I don't believe you, my lord. I imagine scores of women have told you how devastating your kisses are."
Rem chuckled. "I wasn't speaking of my kisses."
"I know." Sammy twined her arms about his neck, feeling his muscles tighten in response. She was strangely touched by the effect she had on him, moved by the knowledge that, despite the vast number of women who had preceded her, she alone had captured Rein's invincible heart ... whether or not he knew it. "I love you, Rem," she whispered.
He lifted her onto his lap, tugging the velvet ribbon from her hair and tangling his fingers in the cascading tresses that tumbled over her shoulders. "I want to drown in you," he muttered, dragging her mouth back to his.
Welcoming all the unspoken love in Rem's kiss, Sammy was utterly, entirely lost. Everything faded into obscurity; her plans, her thoughts, her very breath. All she knew was Rem. Rem and how much she loved him.
His mouth ravaged hers, taking, giving, drawing her tongue forward to mate with his. She gasped when his lips left hers, but her breath lodged in her throat as his mouth found the pulse point in her neck, the curve of her shoulder, the arch of her breast. Her bodice was down ... how,
when, she had no idea. All she knew was that his lips were surrounding her nipple, circling it, scraping it, drawing its aching peak into the heated cavern of his mouth. Sammy clutched Rem's shoulders, throwing her head back, all of last night's urgency crashing through her as if it had never gone, hot, violent need throbbing in her loins, pooling between her thighs.
"Rem ..." She sobbed his name, moving helplessly against him in a wild, undulating motion.
"Christ." It was a harsh growl, a reverent prayer, uttered from deep within Rem's soul. He couldn't think, didn't care about anything on earth but Samantha and losing himself in her melting warmth. He lifted her, unbuttoning his breeches and raising her skirts all at once.
"Rem?"
He met her gaze from beneath passion-heavy lids, wildly battling the pounding urge beating inside him, the heedless voice that commanded him to take her, all of her, now, and damn everything else to hell.
Seeing the confusion in her eyes, he paused. "Is this what you want?" he demanded, his voice rough with unquenched desire.
"Yes."
"Then tell me."
"I want you, Rem." Her voice was reckless with passion. "Just tell me how."
Her innocence was the most powerful aphrodisiac Rem had ever known. He groaned, feeling himself harden nearly beyond bearing. "Put your knees on either side of me," he managed through clenched teeth. "Do it now, Samantha, before I lose my mind."
She complied instantly, draping her skirts about them, encasing their bodies in an intoxicating, erotic cocoon.
Rem watched her eyes as he entered her, driven nearly crazy by the sexual awakening he saw there. "Deeper," he commanded, seizing her hips and pulling her down to envelop him. "So deep that we're one."
"Oh . . ." Sammy quivered as she caught the motion, rising up only to sink down again, taking him as far inside her as she could.
"Samantha . . ." Rem slid his hand around her nape, tugging her mouth down to his. "Kiss me." He arched up and into her. "Now move with me."
It was heaven and hell combined, a heightening of the senses that was beyond bearing. Their lips moved feverishly in conjunction with their bodies, each frenzied thrust taking them deeper inside each other, bringing them closer to the shattering brink. Sammy's thighs clenched convulsively around Rem's, her untutored body desperate, pulsing with its need for release.
"Please, Rem ... I can't bear it."
"I know. God ... I know."
The carriage hit a bump, driving Sammy forward, burying Rem still deeper inside her.
"Rem!" It was a sob, a plea, a celebration.
He worked his hand beneath her enveloping skirts, between their straining bodies, and found her. Ardently he stroked her swollen flesh, his opposite palm digging into the small of her back. He pulled her into him, hard, simultaneously raising up to bury himself to the hilt. His mouth ate at hers, his fingers burned into her aching depths, and Sammy catapulted over the edge, her blind cry of release silenced only by Rem's devouring mouth.
Rem followed her into the blistering pleasure, unable to stop himself even if he willed it. Samantha's inner muscles contracted around him, possessing him sweetly, totally, rendering him mindless, hurling him into his own excruciating release. He poured himself into her, burning explosions of sensation that hammered through him like gunfire, heaving his body into hers again and again, flooding her with the endless flow of his seed.
Sammy tore her mouth from his, unable to remain silent, sobbing his name with each exquisite spasm of her body. Instinctively she arched, taking all of Rem's scalding climax, watching his face as he gave it to her.
They floated, suspended as one, for a few magnificent moments. Then they drifted back to earth.
Sanity returned slowly.
Rem's head fell back against the seat cushion, his arms tightening reflexively around Samantha. She was shaking uncontrollably, her face buried in his shoulder, and he absorbed her hard shudders, dragging great gulps of air into his lungs.
The carriage rounded a curve, jostling its dazed occupants back into reality.
Sammy lifted her head.
A tender smile touched Rem's lips, his expression one of weary amazement. "You're unbelievable." He wrapped a wave of sable hair around his hand. "Utterly, astonishingly unbelievable."
"We're
unbelievable," she corrected breathlessly, tracing his lips with her fingertip. "Utterly, astonishingly unbelievable." She brushed his mouth in a kiss of infinitely poignant beauty. "When will you marry me?"
"Rem . . ." Indecision warred on her face.
"Don't even think of saying no," he warned, ominous clouds erupting in his eyes, darkening them to near-black. "Not after what just happened in this carriage. Not with my body still buried in yours. Not when my child could be growing inside you. I mean it, Samantha. 'No' is not an option."
"Rem, I love you so much," she said in a broken whisper.
The darkness dissipated as quickly as it had come. "Marry me, then." He tugged her head back to his chest, his hand shaking as he stroked her hair. "Let me talk to your brother tomorrow ... please."
Sammy could feel Rem's anguish as tangibly as if it were her own. It was deep and devastating, involving far more than his plea for her to become his wife, far more than the unwilling love he had yet to admit. And she knew what her answer must be; the only one that would permit her to grapple with his pain and help him heal.
The only answer for either of them.
"Yes, Rem. I'll marry you."
17
"Do you want a big church wedding?" Rem murmured, working the tangles from Sammy's hair with his fingers.
The window curtains remained drawn, but Sammy's gown was rearranged, Rem's breeches refastened as the carriage made its seventh trip around Hyde Park.
"Would you mind terribly?" She twisted around to see his face, simultaneously scooping Aunt Gertrude's hat off the carriage floor.
A corner of Rem's mouth lifted. "You never did explain that unusual headpiece."
"It's Aunt Gertie's. She generously offered to lend it to me."
"I see. Did you select this particular one?" Eyes twinkling, Rem stroked one of the garish plumes.
"Not exactly. Actually, I didn't request any hat at all. I merely asked Aunt Gertie if she wished to chaperon us on our carriage ride through Hyde Park, given that today is Cynthia's day off. She misunderstood."
"I see." Rem lifted Sammy's disheveled tresses and pressed his lips to her nape. "In that case I'm terribly grateful. I would have found a chaperon very inconvenient on this particular ride."
Sammy shivered. "Rem, I don't think we can risk another seven trips around Hyde Park. Besides, we were discussing our wedding."
"So we were." Reluctantly, Rem resumed his task, threading sable strands free of each other. "I asked if you wanted a grand church ceremony."
"And I said yes, unless, of course, you object."
Rem chuckled. "Would it matter?"
"Of course! If it makes you unhappy, we won't do it."
"How very biddable you are, imp ... just like the night we attended the opera when you ignored my instructions to go home and instead hid in my phaeton and rode with me to Shadwell."
Sammy went white. "How did you find out?"
"A better question is, when were you going to tell me?"
"I wasn't. I would never lie to you, Rem," Sammy added hastily, seeing his jaw tighten. "I just didn't want to upset you."
"Why would I be upset? Just because those ruffians might have killed you?"
"You're angry."
"I'm protective. I want you safe." He cupped her face between his palms. "Don't endanger yourself again."
"I won't." She gazed up at him and sighed. "You're going to be a terribly domineering husband, aren't you?"
"I think you'll manage to keep me in my place. Samantha . . ." Rem's tone turned sober. "You have a loving heart and a vibrant spirit. I never want to squelch either. But remember what I said about disenchantment being inevitable?"
"I remember."
"Not everyone in the world is a fine, decent human being. You'll meet very few worthwhile sorts in that particular section of Shadwell."
"I met Cynthia."
Rem groaned, rolling his eyes to the heavens. "I give up. I'll just have to follow my first impulse and keep you in bed throughout your waking hours."
"You'll get no argument from me there, my lord." Sammy's smile was beatific. "So you see? I really am quite biddable when your demands are sound." Her loving taunt triggered a thought in her own mind. "Speaking of which, I had a messenger take Stephen's necklace to him at Anders Shipping this afternoon. So that makes two of your demands I obeyed."
"Samantha." Rein's jaw went taut, his expression dark. "I don't want you anywhere near Viscount Anders, is that clear?"
"Rem," Sammy sighed, "I've told you I feel absolutely nothing for Stephen—"
"I don't trust the man. He's scum. Stay away from him."
Taken aback by Rem's lethal tone, Sammy nodded. "All right."
"I'm sorry, imp." Rem softened, tenderly tracing the smooth curve of her cheek with his knuckles. "I just want to take care of you, to keep you from getting hurt." He raised her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "I want you to promise me something."
"Anything."
"Promise me that no matter what events might occur, you'll tell me about them. Even if you don't want to alarm me." He swallowed. "Even if they're dangerous."
"Like when those ruffians followed me in Shadwell?"
"Precisely. Or any other situation that might cause you harm or pain. Promise me. It's the only way I can keep you safe."
"I promise." Sammy kept her gaze fixed on his. "But I want you to make the same vow."
"What?"
"I'm pledging myself to you, Rem, as your soon-to-be wife. Now I want the same pledge from you."
Rem's lips twitched. "Do you anticipate rescuing me from danger?"
"Perhaps."
"Very well." Seeing how serious she was, Rem sobered. "I offer you the same vow."
"You'll tell me of anything that threatens you with harm or pain?"
"I will."
"Good." Sammy readied herself for the battle that would momentarily ensue. "Tell me about your past."
Samantha Page 27
