Beyond Love

by Glenda Diana

  “I wasn't finished.”

  “Later, much later ... maybe when I'm too exhausted.”

  “Maybe,” Thorton breathed, spreading her legs, cradling him closer. She could feel the hot tip of his shaft seeking entrance to her core. She moved against him, silently demanding he come to her.

  Blake embedded himself deep inside her with one powerful thrust. He looked down to make sure he hadn't hurt her in his rush to be joined. “Thor?”

  “Not now, Blake,” she whispered, wrapping her legs around his hips. “Finish what you've started, before you drive me crazy.”

  “Yes, Madame Wife.”

  Thorton closed her eyes as emotions spiraled through her body. The tightening came from deep within her, causing her woman muscles to clench, squeeze, pulling him deeper into her.

  She sighed when Blake finally collapsed on top of her. Tenderly she traced her fingertips over his sweaty back. How she loved the moments afterward when she could hold him close, feel his heartbeat.

  Her fingertips traced the scars on each cheek. “You're such a handsome man.”

  Blake didn't respond; he never did. Rolling over, he propped himself up on his elbow so he could study her face. He placed his hand on her stomach. His son or daughter lay deep within her. A child who would have both Bradley and Lynwood blood. That realization almost made him laugh. All that mattered was this was their child, one they had created together.

  “If you keep looking at me like that, Baron, I'll think you weren't satisfied and want to have another try.”

  He raised his eyes at the sound of her teasing. “I'm most satisfied.”

  Thorton ran her tongue against the scar on his left cheek. A smile came to her face when Blake shivered. “I'm so pleased you're satisfied. But does that mean you don't want to try again?”

  “What a wanton woman.” He then nuzzled his face into her fragrant hair. “Give me a moment.”

  “You just lay there and catch your breath. I'll be right back.”

  Blake started to tell her she wasn't going anywhere. Hell, why would the woman want to leave such a comfortable, enjoyable bed? Then all thoughts came to a stumbling halt as Thorton's mouth moved down his chest, to his stomach, to his ... Damn, the woman could go there anytime, was the last coherent thing he could remember for a while.

  Thorton slowly moved up his body. Straddling his hips, she guided his hard length into her waiting heat. She shuddered in answer to his powerful thrust.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Is that it?” Dora asked.

  “Girl, if you ask me that one more time I'm going to box your ears!”

  Cook's brown eyes watched as the girl fidgeted. Dora was only eighteen. Oh, she knew all about the act of loving and how men liked a pretty face and young body. But experience did not make one knowledgeable. Dora was still naive, too trusting, and too damn pretty for her own good.

  Men were fewer in the country, but they had the same taste and desires. Dora was a tiny thing-Cook had always feared she would never grow-but Dora grew in all the right places. The men liked her soft brown hair and big blue eyes, the way her cheeks dimpled when they whispered sweet words to her. They all waited for just one smile from her, a smile that seemed to call up the morning sun.

  “You got some young man waiting on you?”

  Dora blushed and nodded.

  “Well, he won't spoil,” Cook stated. A large grin brightened up her round face. “I've known a few men in my time who have, though.”

  Dora laughed. “You're a tease. I ain't never heard of a man spoiling ‘afore.”

  “I don't tease,” Cook muttered. Her large frame shook with a gust of laughter, giggling like some young miss. For a fleeting second she scolded herself for the pleasure it brought. But a person only had one life.

  “Ol’ Ben sure would like for you to go on a late-night stroll,” Dora whispered. “He can't take his eyes off you.”

  It was Cook's turn to blush. “I don't want no man who has to pull himself out of his empty cup every morn. Pay close attention to them men who hang about you, girl. Ones who treats themselves badly will likely treat their women the same. You don't want no man who might abuse you.”

  Dora looked at the woman who had raised her. Cook's real name was Mag, but from the time she took over cooking at Stonecrest, some ten years ago, everyone just called her Cook. Dora figured her about forty years and she was almost as round as she was tall, but no matter what her size she was a handsome woman. She always wore her black hair pulled back in a tight bun, making her round face look stern, and her brown eyes larger than ever. But Dora had seen the side of Cook not many others saw, the mother and the friend.

  “I thought you said if a man thinks too highly of himself he would treat his woman bad?” Dora asked impishly.

  “Don't sass me. I know what I told you. The thing is, you have to find a man who falls in between those two types.”

  “Is there such man?”

  “Course there is,” the older woman said in exasperation. “Men like that don't fall from trees, I'll have you know. You've got to search them out, weed out the bad.”

  “Was Aggie's father that way?”

  Cook glared at the girl before turning away. Dora knew the topic of Aggie's father was off limits. “Yes.”

  “I'm sorry, Cook,” Dora said, walking up behind the woman. She placed her arm around Cook's shoulder. “My curiosity got the best of me.”

  “Ain't you ever heard what curiosity done to the cat?”

  “You told me that.” Dora laughed. “But what about your curiosity?”

  Cook raised a brow. “Was that supposed to have meaning?’

  “For the last week, since the Mistress did her screaming in the dining hall, you've been nervous. Do you think she'll do a lot of screaming?”

  “Women are strange when they carry. The babe has a way of making a mother dense. But our Mistress isn't one of those flighty dames. She did just what she set out to do. Got everyone to stop babbling around her.”

  “She's nice. No matter what I'm doing, she stops and talks to me.”

  “Don't be bothering her with silly talk,” Cook scolded lightly. “We're done here, so get. Don't stay out too late. We've laundry to do tomorrow.”

  Dora placed a kiss on Cook's cheek and laughed when the older woman flushed. “You're one snippy boss, but I know you too well. You're all bark.”

  “Go on with you before I show you my bite. That man of yours is probably spoiled by now.”

  Dora grabbed her shawl and hurried out the door. She was late, but she hoped Willie had waited. Willie was one of the new men the Baron had hired during their trip to London. He worked mostly in the stable, but for the past few days he had been helping the men build the houses.

  He was a charmer, a true blue one at that. Every time his mouth opened the sweetest words Dora had ever heard came flowing out. He wasn't nearly as good at loving as Thomas had been, but he didn't wander off from maid to maid either. Willie swore she was the only one for him. He even asked, in a roundabout way, if she would marry him. Dora was to give him her answer tonight.

  She knew she was being rash; she hadn't known Willie long, but she was going to say yes. She wanted a family, a few little ones like Aggie, but most of all she wanted to be loved. That was the one thing Willie had promised her. He said he would love her and only her for all time.

  Dora slowed her footsteps as she neared the place they were to meet. She ducked inside the stable, but Willie was nowhere to be found. Surely he knew she would come when her chores were through. She mumbled a few sour words as she looked over the empty stable.

  Then she remembered how much Willie enjoyed his late-night swims. Dora giggled; she would catch him unaware. She just even might decide to join him. He might not be as good as Thomas, but he did have a wonderful imagination.

  Night shadows played across the uneven ground. Dora took each step carefully, hoping not to alert Willie to her grand surprise. The sound of water splashin
g almost made her quicken her steps. She truly did like to see the man bare, with rivulets of water running down his muscular chest and powerful legs. He was a beauty, if men could be considered so, and to Dora, Willie definitely could.

  The deep growl brought a chill to her arms, a quiver to her heart. It was Willie; she knew his growl like she knew her own name. Water splashed again. Quietly, she took another step forward and parted low-hanging branches. She could see Willie clearly in the moonlight as he frolicked about in the water like a little boy.

  Dora edged her way closer, ready to call out to him.

  “Come on, Wee Willie.”

  Dora's hand flew to her mouth, covering her sudden gasp.

  “Who you calling ‘Wee'? I've showed you a hundred times just how wrong you are, wench.”

  The woman laughed. “A hundred times?”

  “At least. Do I need to remind you again?” Willie laughed as he made his way up the embankment. “You are the hungriest wench I've ever met. Why, it ain't been no more than thirty minutes.”

  “Show me again, Willie.”

  Dora watched in stunned silence as her beau came out of the water and gathered the woman to him. Pain welled up inside her, threatening to explode. How could he do this to her? She wanted to pull the woman from him, but she knew who the woman was.

  Anger drowned out the pain. Dora stood as if hypnotized. Willie pushed the woman to the ground and mounted her almost savagely. The woman encouraged him with soft whimpers and heated words of praise. To Dora, it did not appear as if they were making love, but rutting like animals. In the weeks that she'd been seeing him, he had never made love to her so fiercely.

  Willie tensed and the growl that came from him was like nothing Dora had ever heard. Shivers ran down her spine. The woman pushed him to the side and leaned over him as she gently ran her hand over his cheek.

  “You're a handsome man, Willie.”

  He lifted his head and gave her a quick kiss. “What are you going to do about the babe?”

  The woman laughed. “Get rid of it. Easy, seeing as how there never was one.”

  “What do you mean?” Willie asked, leaning up on his elbow.

  “Certain herbs can give the symptoms of pregnancy, just as there are certain ones that can rid a woman of the seed.”

  Willie cupped one of her large breasts in his hand. “You don't know how pleased I am to hear that, love.”

  “You don't know how pleased I am to have you ... so close,” she moaned. “I can't say I like the name Willie much, but you are brilliant.”

  “I like to think so.”

  “Brilliant and arrogant. Not a good combination.”

  “An interesting combination. Shall I show you again?”

  “You say I'm insatiable? If you're up to it, so am I. Come, Sir Knight.”

  Dora touched her wet face. She hadn't been aware she was crying. How could she-a woman Dora had liked-have done this to her? She turned away. Tears fell heedlessly as she made her way through the heavy foliage. She had to carefully think this over. Who would believe the charges of a kitchen maid?

  * * * *

  The woman placed a hand over Willie's mouth and listened. “I heard something.”

  “I didn't.”

  “Take a look around while I get dressed.”

  “Probably just a rabbit.”

  “My time is up anyhow. I've been gone too long.”

  Willie got to his feet but couldn't take his eyes off her. God, she was lovely, and most enjoyable.

  “Don't just stand there. Look around.”

  “I like it when you're bossy ... sometimes.”

  She gave Willie another kiss. “You know what to do if it isn't a rabbit.”

  “I know,” Willie sighed, pulling on his trousers.

  “We're too close in reaching our goal. We can't have loose ends.”

  Willie grasped her long hair, pulling back her head. His eyes bore into hers. “Just take care of your loose ends, love. I know how to handle mine.”

  The smile she gave him was radiant. “Go, then. I'll see you later.”

  “You can bet on that,” Willie said before his mouth claimed hers in a hot, demanding kiss.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Viscount of Ravenwood, Milord.”

  Blake and Gordon both looked up at Griggs’ announcement. The first question that entered Blake's mind was what the hell did Wellsbrough want? He didn't like the answer that came first to mind.

  It was the worst possible time for unexpected visitors. Blake and Gordon had been going over every clue they could find and still they had no answer as to who was causing the trouble. But it wasn't the simple notes they found, or the fires, or the cattle theft; these acts apparently were not vicious enough.

  Now the game plan had changed. Now he had another more serious crime to add to the list. Cook had been worried when Dora had come up missing. The worry had turned to heartache when they found Dora the next day, beaten so severely she was still unconscious. A needless, brutal act. It made Blake sick to think someone could be cold-blooded enough to hurt such a sweet child. Not taking any chances, Blake had Dora sent where she would be safe until he found the bastard who had hurt her, or until she healed enough to tell them.

  “Show Wellsbrough in. We'll finish this later, Gordon,” Blake sighed as he stood and stretched his aching muscles.

  Gordon stacked the papers they had been studying and quickly left.

  “Bradley,” Lance said upon entering.

  “Wellsbrough. What brings you here?”

  “I was on my way to Ravenwood. I thought a brief visit would be...” His words halted. The formidable Blake Bradley was standing before him, hands on hips, eyes glaring. “Never mind.”

  “Why is it you never bothered to visit on your other journeys home? It makes a man wonder, sort of leaves an impression ... and not a good one.” Blake poured a glass of brandy.

  Lance returned Blake's glare. He stood next to his rude host, picking up the glass that had just been poured. He drank the contents in one gulp, then slammed down the empty glass. “Why don't you tell me, Bradley? I imagine your mind has come up with several distasteful possibilities.”

  “Thorton.”

  Lance raised his brow, as if not expecting the reply. “Marriage has turned your mind to mush if you honestly think I came to see your wife.”

  “My marriage is none of your concern.”

  “By God, you have a low opinion of me.”

  “You gave it to me.” Blake took a menacing step forward, bringing them practically nose to nose.

  “I see you've already made our guest welcome.”

  Both men looked at Thorton in the doorway. Ignoring Blake briefly, Thorton's gold eyes stayed on their guest.

  “I thought I gave you a fair warning, Mr. Wellsbrough!” she shouted.

  Lance grinned. “I thought the warning only applied in London.”

  Thorton stepped forward and smiled. She was adorable, glaring at Wellsbrough so heatedly Blake was surprised Lance didn't go up in flames.

  “Thorton!” He almost laughed when she turned her hot, molten eyes on him.

  “There's no need to shout at me. I hear perfectly fine. Besides, it's rude.”

  “You shouted first. Was there something you wanted?”

  “I'm going riding.”

  “You are not.”

  She answered with a shrug of indifference.

  Blake reached her in three strides. “I mean it.”

  She ran her palms up his chest. “I need fresh air. I promise I'll be careful.”

  “Wait until tomorrow and I'll ride with you.”

  Thorton wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him forward until their noses touched. “I'll hold you to that promise, but I'm still going today. The exercise is just what I need.”

  “We've been having too much trouble for you to be riding around the countryside.”

  “You know I can take care of myself.”

  Blake sig
hed in defeat. “Take one of the guards with you and don't stay out too long. We will discuss your behavior later.”

  “I do so love it when you instruct me,” Thorton breathed against his mouth.

  “Get out before I make love to you in front of our guest.” Blake gave her a quick kiss and took a step backward.

  Thorton gave Blake a disgruntled look. Her face flamed brightly when she looked at Mr. Wellsbrough. “You will remember my warning?” she asked and lifted her chin.

  Stepping forward, Lance took her hand. He smiled when she tried to pull loose, as if enjoying her anger. “Your warning is burned into my memory.”

  Thorton again tried to free her hand. The man tightened his hold, and unless she wanted to make another scene, she would have to be patient.

  “Let go of my wife, Wellsbrough.”

  That did the trick, Thorton thought, as she stumbled back and righted herself.

  “Thorton, go have your ride.”

  Blake was dismissing her like a disobedient child, or a nitwit. She had probably embarrassed him in front of this man he had once called friend. Well, what was done was done. Life was full of lessons one had to learn, she thought.

  She walked to Blake. With both hands she grabbed handfuls of his shirt and tried to pull him so that he would bend forward, but he wouldn't budge.

  “Lean down and kiss me before I kick you,” she gritted out.

  Lance's laughter filled the room. She was beginning not to like this man even if he had once been Blake's friend. She could certainly understand why he wasn't any longer. She released Blake's shirt and stomped from the room, turning toward the stairs instead of the front door.

  “Where are you going?!” he bellowed.

  Thorton didn't turn around. “To get my sword!”

  Blake's booming laughter did the trick. Thorton stopped and glared at him. He had the nerve to throw back his head and laugh harder. Now, who was the nitwit?