by Evie North
Or at least she missed the man she’d imagined him to be.
Such thoughts were confusing enough, but then one morning she rose early, yawning and stretching, and went to the window. It was a beautiful day, the sun gleaming like sparkling diamonds on the loch, the birds singing. She felt her spirits lift and threw open the casement, leaning out to enjoy her sudden surge of happiness.
Down below in the water, her eye was caught by a splash and when she focussed more closely she could see a man swimming in the loch. His arms drove through the water, his powerful legs kicking up a foamy wake behind him, and she saw a gleaming naked shoulder and the curve of a firm buttock.
A tremor ran through her, warming her body inside just as the sun was warming her skin on the outside. She had an overpowering urge to see if the reality of him was the same as her memories. Katherine hesitated, knowing she should not, but the urge was too strong to resist. And besides, he wouldn’t know. I’ll keep myself hidden, she thought with a smile.
Not stopping to dress, she quickly wrapped her robe about her naked body and ran from the room and down the stairs.
The beach was not far from the gardens that circled the castle, with some worn stone steps leading down to the loch. She ran past the dovecote, hearing the birds coo inside, and then down the stairs into the garden, crouching low as the swimmer turned and made his way back toward the shore. Frustrated, she realised she wasn’t close enough to see him properly, and she wanted to. Katherine crept through the perennial border until she had a good view, and then she hid behind a clump of plants and waited.
As he turned his head Gervais spotted a flash of colour in the garden. He blinked the water from his eyes and saw a woman running, her fair hair flying out behind her, the sunlight silhouetting her body through the thin cloth of her robe. He’d chosen that robe himself, felt the silk between his fingers, imagined her lovely body clothed in such finery.
Katherine.
What was she doing out here at this time of day? Perhaps she was going to swim as well? But somehow Gervais didn’t think swimming was one of Katherine’s fortes, and usually when she spotted him she turned and went the other way. She’d been avoiding him and he’d been content to let her, uncertain as he was how to reconcile their differences.
At night he’d found himself tossing and turning. Their time in Newgate was suddenly so vivid; the feel and sight and taste of her filled his head to bursting. He imagined getting up and going to her room. Would she welcome him? Take him into her bed? He tried to convince himself she’d be the ardent woman he remembered, but it was more likely she would slam the door in his face.
He told himself there was time, plenty of time. That she would come around. A woman with Katherine’s passions must eventually give up her solitary existence. Although, to keep her, he would have to be honest with her, and she might not be altogether pleased when he revealed to her that he and Edward had been partners in crime. But Gervais was confident that even then he could win her over.
Now the flash of colour came again and he could see her, crouched low among the flowers. That was when Gervais realised she was watching him. The little minx was spying on him. The idea pleased him and gave him a new spurt of confidence. Perhaps reconciliation was closer than he’d thought?
With a grin he swam closer to the shore. He’d show her what she was missing! His feet touched the sandy bottom of the loch and he began to wade ashore.
Irritably Katherine swiped a plant stalk out of her eyes. She was concentrating on the man striding from the loch. The water was still up to his waist, and his dark hair was plastered to his head with rivulets running down over his broad chest. Her mouth felt dry and there was a trembling in her belly that made her want to squirm, but she lay rigid, afraid almost to breathe, as she watched more and more of him being revealed.
Then he paused, with the water lapping low on his belly, standing like a bronze statue in the shallow waters of the loch. Intent on seeing more, Katherine edged forward on her elbows, indifferent to the state of her robe. Ah, now he was moving again, ploughing through the water to the beach.
His cock was flaccid. For a moment she felt disappointment, until she realised she was silly to think he would be aroused after being in the cold loch water. His long, muscular legs followed and then, finally, he was standing on the beach naked. He shook his hair, water spraying everywhere, and stretched his arms upward to the blue sky, the movement delineating his muscles and sinews, showing Katherine exactly how a healthy male animal looked.
Heat trickled through her. She felt her nipples peaking, and the tingle between her legs where she was becoming moist and warm. Almost, she thought crossly, as if her body was preparing to take him no matter what her heart or mind might feel or think.
But it had been so long since that passionate night in Newgate, and Katherine was young and healthy. She knew it was impossible to go to his bed, but there was another way to satisfy herself and it was Gervais himself who had shown her how to do it.
With a little sigh she reached down, her fingers slipping into the apex of her thighs, pressing on the hard nub where her pleasure centred—gently at first, then with more force as her excitement grew. Her breath quickened as she watched him. He was drying himself with a cloth now and her eyes widened as he reached down to his cock and began to slip his hand up and down the length. Pleasuring himself.
His cock began to grow before her eyes, rearing up, thickening. What fantasy was he indulging in? Was he thinking about the night in Newgate? Katherine refused to allow herself to be distracted.
Her own fingers quickened, sliding in and out, pressing hard against her pearl. She could hear her own panting breath, the blood pumping through her veins, the rush of pleasure so very close.
And then, just as she was at the tipping point, just as she was teetering on a most wonderful orgasm, he stopped what he was doing and looked toward her. No, not toward her. Directly at her.
Shock caught her unawares.
With a cry, Katherine wriggled back through the plants, struggling to pull her robe about herself. She felt the silk catch on one of the plants.
“Why, Katherine,” Gervais called. His voice was low and deep and amused. “What are you doing there?”
He was striding toward her!
She tried to stand, but her robe was caught fast, and now it came half off. Her pale body gleamed in the sunlight and his eyes began to feast on her breasts and thighs. He growled deep in his throat. He was close enough now to reach out to her and he did, wasting no time. His hands closed over her breasts, fingers brushing the rigid buds of her nipples. His touch made her heart jolt. She tried to catch her breath. His hands were still damp but warm, the skin a little rough and calloused, causing wonderful friction.
Katherine groaned deep in her throat and her body arched toward him, despite her brain commanding her to run.
“Beautiful,” he said. His dark eyes blazed just as she remembered them during that long night at Newgate. She pressed into his hands, the intensity growing, and the tingling between her legs began to climb again. He clasped her about the waist and drew her soft body in against his. The coarse hairs on his chest rubbed against her breasts and his body was warm despite his swim. She felt protected by his enclosing arms and his strong masculine form. She felt safe, and it occurred to her that it was something she had not felt for a long time.
Her body, so close to climax a moment ago, began to urge her on to more reckless behaviour. Gervais’s warm mouth closed on hers, and their kisses grew heavy with passion, making them both feel drugged. All about them the flowers bobbed and stirred. Katherine stood up on her tiptoes, opening her thighs wide enough so that his cock could slip between them and rest against the slick core of her body. She began to move back and forth, rubbing against him.
But it wasn’t enough. Her hand reached for him, fingers closing about his member. She felt a shudder of pleasure run through him as she began to stroke him as she had seen him stroke himself, her
hand sliding up and down his rigid length.
He kissed her throat and shoulders, his mouth hot and open against her skin. One moment she was upright on her feet, and then she was on her back among the flowers and he was lying over her, a dark shadow against the blue sky.
His muscular thigh pushed between hers, and she felt him against her entrance, promising so much pleasure.
Stop, stop, the warning voice in her head was shrill, but Katherine refused to hear it above the pounding of her heart.
Then he thrust deep inside her and she was beyond caring about anything but this moment. She had been so close to climaxing already that it only took a couple of heavy thrusts for her body to clench around him. Katherine arched her back, crying out, and he responded with his own shout.
They lay a moment, chests heaving, trying to catch their breath. Slowly Katherine became aware of his weight, the feel of him upon her, so strange and yet so familiar.
Oh no! This was not what was supposed to happen.
Gervais didn’t want her. He’d abandoned her, and she did not want him to think he could just have her whenever the fancy took him. What had she been thinking? What about all the promises she had made to herself? Where was her self-respect?
But Katherine had the uncomfortable feeling her self-respect had put up a very poor fight. Her desire for him had been overwhelming. Like a wild creature locked in a cage, once the door was opened it had burst free.
“This is all wrong!” she wailed.
With a shove she rolled him off her and scrambled to her feet. Then, still half-naked, she fled.
Gervais lay a moment, watching her go, his body still racked with the aftermath of pleasure. No reconciliation then, he thought wryly. He’d been hoping that she’d fling herself into his arms and beg for more, not run off without a backward glance.
For a hot-blooded man who’d had no woman since that night in Newgate, Gervais felt as if he had barely brushed the surface of his need.
He climbed to his feet and headed back to the loch to swim off his frustration.
13
Katherine sat demurely in the yellow parlour. She had decided to make the small and feminine room her own and so far no one had come to find her. No one seemed to need her help, nor had they bothered to tell her what her duties were. When Anthony was sleeping or Susan was caring for him she seemed to have very little to do, and Katherine was tired of sitting back and letting the world pass her by.
In desperation she had asked the housekeeper what she might do to occupy herself. Mrs MacNee was a severe-faced woman who habitually wore black, but Katherine had seen her smile at Anthony and she knew beneath the stern exterior was a kind heart.
“The master has decreed you are to do as you will, Miss Katherine.”
The master has decreed.
It sounded almost as if she were here as his prisoner, despite her freedom, and Katherine had never intended that. Should she seek him out? But look what had happened the last time she had. She didn’t trust herself close to him; her body betrayed her whenever he was near. Knowing that she should not make love with him for the sake of her heart made no difference to how she physically felt. She wanted him so very much. Ever since the morning on the beach she had felt that aching need building within her again, urging her to make careless decisions.
Katherine had bound her heart up securely and now the wrappings were loosening, some had even unravelled entirely. All her emotion, all her longing for love, was becoming plain for her to see. And yet she could not afford to love him again. That way lay pain and unhappiness and she must not let it happen.
Again she looked around her at the parlour and sighed. The trouble was she had nothing to do, nothing to occupy her thoughts. Surely there was something...? Her gaze sharpened. What this room needed was flowers! She’d always enjoyed arranging flowers at the inn. It was one of her appointed tasks there, something she took pride in. One of the few responsibilities she had control of in her former life. Surely Gervais would not begrudge her a few flowers from the plenty growing in his gardens?
Gervais trotted his mount down the long driveway. He should be tired out. He’d ridden for miles, but his body had turned treacherous. One glimpse of Katherine standing in the gardens was enough to have his blood pumping and his cock twitching and thickening.
Why did I agree to her coming here?
But he knew why. For the sake of his son he would have done anything. Although, if he was honest, his offer to Katherine had not been entirely to do with Anthony. Gervais had never been able to forget her and when she had appeared at his door in London he’d not thought twice about taking her with him into the Scottish wilds.
It hadn’t quite worked out as he’d planned. She didn’t trust him; her hurt was too deep. The episode on the beach hadn’t changed her, but it had awoken something in him that he’d been trying to keep under control. Gervais knew he had to win back her trust but he’d planned to do it slowly, with caution. Ever since the beach he’d felt like a lusting boy, his every waking thought—and every sleeping one too—full of Katherine. He groaned softly as he rode up beside her.
“What are you doing?”
His words came out gruffer than he’d meant and she started, turning to stare up at him. She held in her arms a trug full of flowers. “I am picking flowers. For the castle,” she said warily.
He frowned, and then realised that from his vantage point astride the horse he could see the swell of her naked breasts beneath the neckline of her dress. He edged his mount closer.
“Mrs MacNee can do that. There’s no need for you—”
Katherine’s eyes narrowed. “I have nothing to do,” she said.
Gervais raised an eyebrow. “You have my son.”
For a moment the words seem to form a wall between them. My son. But then Katherine tossed her head. Her hair was longer and more lush than it had been before, and her curves were fuller. Bearing his child had done that to her, and his mouth watered at the thought of kissing and licking those lush parts of her.
“Our son,” she corrected him. “And Susan cares for him most of the day, and he sleeps. I need something to do, Gerv... Jerome.”
“You are my guest,” he replied, “and guests do not need to work for their keep.” He meant to please her, to flatter her, but from the expression on her face he’d done the opposite.
“A guest,” she repeated. “Guests can leave whenever they wish, can’t they? Do you wish me to leave, Jerome?”
He opened his mouth to cry No, but stopped himself. What if Katherine wanted to go? Should he prevent her for his own selfish reasons? What if she’d decided to take the money and leave Anthony after all?
“Do you want to leave?” he asked her. His gaze watched for the slightest change in her expression, for any clue as to what she was thinking.
She looked down at the flowers, fiddling with the stems. There were shadows under her eyes as if she wasn’t sleeping. Just like he wasn’t sleeping.
“No, I don’t want to leave,” she said softly.
The silence between them grew. Gervais’s horse became restless and he tightened his hold on the reins.
“What then?” he said at last in frustration. “Katherine, tell me what you want from me!”
Just for a moment he thought she would. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She looked up at him, and he could see the tension in her beautiful face. “I want something to do.”
And suddenly a crazy idea stirred in his sleep- deprived mind. It was his turn to hesitate, to bite back his words. He didn’t want to speak of it yet; he wanted to consider the matter.
Turning his horse toward the stables, Gervais called over his shoulder, “Come to me in an hour. In the library.”
Katherine watched him ride away. Her skin was tingling and she had the oddest feeling, as if just now they had been on the brink of settling their differences.
Could they find happiness out of the mess they were in? That is, if Gervais still wanted h
er. That day on the beach...he’d let her run away without a word. She told herself he could have stopped her if he’d wanted to, one word would have done the trick, but he’d said and done nothing. Was that the action of a man who was interested in rekindling the passion they shared together in Newgate? No, more likely he’d felt a momentary lust, something he might feel for any woman, but it wasn’t enough.
Still, when she went to her room, she brushed her hair till it shone and pinched her cheeks to a healthy- looking pink. She dabbed some jasmine scent behind her ears and then, just in case, between her breasts. Glancing in the mirror she lifted her skirt a little defiantly, and dabbed some of the floral perfume on the tops of her legs as well.
She’d shocked herself. Was she such a wanton that she would try to attract a man who had no emotional interest in her? Indeed who would break her heart all over again?
But she missed his touch, she missed the feel of his body against hers, and the moments on the beach had reawakened that longing with a vengeance. Did it matter if he didn’t love her and she did not trust him?
Of course it mattered. The satisfaction of their bodies was all very well but without love, without trust... Katherine had already lived with a man she’d learned to despise and she didn’t want that again. She knew she had changed, she had a new strength of character, and she wasn’t going to sit quiet as a mouse while others made decisions for her.
He’d said he didn’t want her to leave. What did he want then?
Somewhere in her heart she still believed the two of them could live happily here in the wilderness, however impractical that might seem.
In trepidation, but with a new determination in her step, Katherine went to her appointment in the library.
He was sitting by the window, looking out over the garden, and he turned as she entered. The library wasn’t a room she had been in before—it was Gervais’s territory—but now she couldn’t help but notice it was in a sad state. Neglected, the books shelved higgledy- piggledy, some even damaged by damp and dust. Katherine knew that books had souls, so how could anyone allow them to get into such a condition?
