Although he pushed her chemise higher, he kept his eyes firmly locked on her face. “Are you sure? Stop me now before it’s too late.”
She smiled and awarded him with a long, slow blink. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life, Nick.” His laugh rumbling lowly in his chest, he tugged her chemise over her head and cast it the ground.
He sucked in his breath, and for a moment she was afraid she displeased him. Her body wasn’t perfect. She was still too skinny to be fashionable, even after nearly six weeks of living in Nicholas’s household, her hips perhaps a shade too wide. Her cheeks flaming, she moved to cover her breasts with her hands, but Nicholas caught them in his and brought them to his chest.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, and lust gleamed in his eyes. Tracing the curve of her breast with his finger, he said, “I imagined you this way, naked and wanting me, but I never imagined such beauty.”
Pulling her body flush against his, he kissed her hard. Through his trousers, she felt the hardness of him, and yet he seemed to hold himself back. “Lexie...” he began.
Heart pounding, she ran her hands along his chest, and he closed his eyes and groaned. His expression, shrouded with lust, was all the encouragement she needed. “You don’t need to say anything, Nick,” she whispered. “I know what I’m doing.”
He said nothing in response, and he didn’t need to. Instead, he captured her mouth for the most passionately breathless kiss they had ever shared, his tongue plunging into her mouth, gliding deep, robbing her of her breath. Lexie’s last coherent thought was that no kiss would ever compare to this one she shared with Nicholas.
His lips never leaving hers, he pressed her against the bed, laying her on the rich brown, down-filled coverlet. Soft down against her back, hard man against her chest, she was surrounded by luxury. This was the most romantic, decadent moment of her life.
He separated her legs with one of his and settled into the vee of her thighs. She expected it to go quickly, but instead, he rested his body against hers, his warmth against her core, bent his head, and captured the taut bud of her nipple in his mouth.
A sharp cry escaped her at the torment of his touch, of his mouth against her sensitive skin. He knew just what to do to make her burn, how to touch her to rob her of her mind. Threading her fingers through his golden hair, she held his head in place while he kissed and licked and suckled her tender breasts.
“You like that, Lex?” he asked, blowing across her tender nipples.
Lust uncoiled in her stomach and something hot and hungry inside her clenched deliciously. She struggled for her breath and her words. When she finally spoke, she whispered, “Oh, Nicholas, what you do to me.”
He moved his head down to the sensitive skin of her belly and laughed, and the vibrations caused by his voice made her blood catch fire beneath her skin. “What I do to you? Woman, what you do to me.” He pressed feather-light kisses against her stomach, and butterflies fluttered in her belly. He lowered his head and placed a kiss in the triangle of curls at the juncture of her thighs.
With a gasp of surprise, she clamped her legs together the best she could with Nicholas between them. “Nicholas—”
He lifted his head and rested his chin on her belly. His fingers feathered across her hips, a touch that made the muscles in her belly clench with delight. “Do you trust me, Lexie?”
She’d never been asked such a question before, and it took her by surprise. “Nicholas, I don’t—”
“Shh,” he murmured against her belly, sending a fresh wave of desire up her spine, temporarily robbing her of her protest. “I have dreamt of this for weeks now, and I have every intention of tasting every inch of you tonight.”
“But—”
“You have to trust me, Lex. I won’t do anything you don’t want, but trust me.” With those words, he dipped his tongue into the cleft between her legs, and a wave of pleasure hit her so intense she was rendered speechless.
For five years, she only had herself to rely on. Now Nicholas, a man who had won her in a poker game, insisted she trust him.
And all the while she intended to lie to him.
She meant to stop him, she really did.
But Nicholas rubbed his tongue against the very core of her, the very part of her that ached with need for him, and her protests fragmented like shattered glass as the first climax of her life overtook her.
Before her shudders subsided, he slid up her body and kissed her hard. He leaned over and took a small packet from a box on his nightstand. “Condoms,” he explained. “To prevent pregnancy.”
He’d thought of everything. Even now, he protected her honor. It hadn’t even occurred to her to worry about pregnancy. Instead, she’d focused all of her energy on worrying about whether she’d walk down the aisle a virgin.
Her heart swelled with gratitude and ached at the same time.
He didn’t want to give her his babies.
Nicholas leaned down and kissed her again, his tongue coupling with hers and driving all thoughts of hurt feelings—however irrational—out of her head. He caressed her breast, rolling the taut bud of her nipple between his forefinger and his thumb, the pressure just enough, a touch so intoxicating her head began to spin.
He settled himself between her thighs, kissing her senseless. Sliding a hand between their bodies, he stroked her soft folds, sliding a long finger inside her.
She ached for more of him.
“Oh, Nick, please,” she whispered, arching up against his hand.
He gave her a smile of pure male satisfaction. “Please?”
She tried to catch her breath when he withdrew his finger. Slid it inside her again and withdrew. She needed so much more. “Please,” she breathed.
He needed no further encouragement. Shifting his position, bracing himself on his forearms, his chest against hers, he plunged into the haven of her body.
Lexie cried out.
He stilled inside her. His mouth against hers, he murmured, “Shh. The pain will pass.”
Before he had the chance to finish his sentence, she realized he was right. Already the pain had dissipated to the point where she became aware of him, throbbing inside her, and of the nip of pleasure lingering beneath the bite of pain. She shifted against him, and the nip of pleasure became more intense.
Through gritted teeth, he growled, “Don’t move. Give it time.”
Hissing a breath, she shifted again, and the pleasure intensified. She wanted him like this, inside her body, wanting her in return. She wanted him to move again and fulfill the promise he made with his kisses. She wanted more of this sweet torment. Beneath him, she insistently moved her hips, rocking against him.
“Lex—”
“Nicholas,” she whispered, and something in her voice caused him to raise his head and look at her.
Their gazes met. His eyes locked on hers, he began to move inside her again. Slowly at first, achingly slow, he thrust into her with such deliberate care she wanted to weep. But as her hips rose to greet him, his movements became more hurried, more insistent. His muscles in his strong shoulders bunched as he thrust into her, and just as she approached the peak again, he slid his hand between their joined bodies and buried his body inside hers.
Lexie’s entire world exploded into tiny prisms of lust. Her body rippled around his as the climax overtook her, and she became nothing but shuddering sensation from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Just as her tremors subsided, Nicholas withdrew from her body, and without him inside her, she was strangely empty, somehow less complete.
He rolled to his side and she with him. After the wonder they had just shared, she wanted to be close to him, to revel in the warmth of his skin next to hers.
She wanted to know he cared.
It wasn’t fair. She understood that. She wanted to know that her first time had been with someone who cared for and appreciated her. She wanted something from him she’d never be able to return.
She cared
for him. Maybe she loved him, after only one night. And even if she did, she would never tell him. One day, in the not-so-distant future, she would leave him and marry another. Yet she still wanted far more from Nicholas than she would ever be able to give. It didn’t matter how illogical it was, or how unfair.
She clamped her mouth shut around the words threatening her. She would never tell him what he meant to her. Not tonight, not tomorrow. Not ever.
She rested her head upon his chest and toyed with the wiry hair. “That...that was amazing,” she said with a sigh. “Is it always like that?”
Nicholas kissed the top of her head. “No. Not usually.”
She leaned up and perched her chin on his chest so she could gauge his reaction, and his bright eyes met hers. “No?” She couldn’t help but be a little bit disappointed by the knowledge. What had happened between them had been nothing short of miraculous, and so intense she already ached to have it happen again.
“No.”
She drummed her fingers on his chest and waited for him to continue. As if he knew exactly what she wanted, he gave her a roguish smile that sent her heart racing. Capturing her hand in his, he pulled her toward him so they were face to face. A flicker of emotion passed behind his eyes, but was suppressed so quickly she wondered if she had imagined it. “It’s not usually quite so ‘amazing,’ as you put it.”
She kissed him. Hard. Despite her soreness, she wanted him all over again. Swinging a leg over him, she rested on his chest and studied him. She cocked her eyebrow in a way she hoped he would see as suggestive. “Hm. Perhaps we should see if we can...um...”
“Recreate it?” he asked with a roguish grin.
“Mm,” she purred.
His chuckle vibrated in his chest, and the smile of real joy he gave her sent a new rush of desire coursing through her. Would she ever be able to get enough of this man?
“It’s too soon for you, I think.”
She pouted. “Are you turning me down?”
He rolled her to her back, pinning her beneath him with his body. His gaze intense, he said, “If I live to be a thousand, I would never.”
So they did it again.
Turned out, it was just as amazing the second time. And the third.
Chapter 13
He’d never been with anyone quite like her.
Once he took her into his bed, she responded with a passion that left him breathless. For a woman with so little experience, she was adventurous in the bedroom, willing and ready to do anything. She reveled in her exploration of his body, of what she could do to him with her hands or her body or her delightful little mouth, as if desperate to pack a lifetime of pleasure into every moment they spent together.
The weight of his guilt didn’t bear down on him when he had her in his room, when he lost himself in Lexie. His brother’s ghost didn’t haunt him when he held Lexie in his arms. For the first time in a year, the specter of his brother didn’t shadow his every waking moment.
She loved him late into the night, but in the morning, he always woke alone. Night, which had been the time he tended to dwell on the mistakes he’d made, became his salvation.
Mornings became his nightmare. This house, this city, this time of year all reminded him of his failure as a human being, as a brother.
Soon, he thought of little else but having her stay with him in the master suite, of having her acknowledge this thing between them. As the weeks passed, and the reality of his brother’s death hit him harder and harder, he became obsessed with the idea of having her stay with him. He wanted to fall asleep with her beside him and wake beside her every morning. He wanted her body against his. He wanted to spend every moment with her.
He wanted Lexie to tell him she loved him.
Of course she’d say the words to him first. He’d been her first, and he knew how quickly women developed feelings when engaged in such intimacy. Once she told him, he would tell her he loved her in return, release her from her contract, and build a life with her.
He knew she held something back, that she had a secret she wasn’t telling him. He saw it in her face when she thought he wasn’t looking, sensed it when she lay in his arms after a night spent making love. Just as she must know he had his own secret shame. He’d caught her regarding him with cautious eyes, but she never asked, and he never told.
They’d become quite good at not talking about the emotions swimming in the space between them. She showed him she loved him in the way she touched him, in the way she made love to him, but she never said the words. He wondered if she ever would.
Lord, how he longed to hear her say those three little words. They wouldn’t take away the horror of his brother’s death, but if she loved him, it would be a sign his life was worth something, and his brother’s death hadn’t been wasted. Yet even as he found happiness in the passion he shared with Lexie, as the day marking the anniversary of his brother’s death approached, Nicholas sank deeper and deeper into a despair nothing truly assuaged.
He heard soft footsteps approaching him, but he didn’t look up. From the sound of the footfalls it had to be Lexie, the one bright spot in his life. He thought of those last good days before he found out about his brother’s death. Afterwards, he had become nothing but an empty shell of a man, searching out the next rush to temporarily lighten the shadow hanging over him. He reveled in his bad reputation. No decent woman would love a man like him, and he liked it that way, because then he wasn’t obligated to love his women in return.
Everything had changed the morning he went to claim his marker. His life had been forever altered the moment he met her standing in the doorway of her father’s ramshackle house, proud and beautiful in her faded red dress. In the days that followed, as he began his pursuit of Lexie, the shadow hanging over him had bright light spilling through it. He didn’t deserve her, didn’t deserve to find such happiness after what he had done, but he was too selfish to let her go.
Nicholas shook his head and threw back a shot of whiskey, not caring that it was nine-thirty in the morning. Lexie stopped in front of his desk, but he kept his eyes locked on the desk so he wouldn’t be forced to meet her gaze.
“What’s wrong, Nick?”
He glanced up, and the concern he heard in her voice was mirrored in her face. Should he tell her of his greatest shame, share the secret that had been his burden to bear alone for these long months? If she turned from him as his father had, if he saw the same loathing and disdain on Lexie’s beautiful features he had seen on the face of his father, he wouldn’t be able to bear it. He would shrivel up and disintegrate, become nothing but dust.
He wasn’t strong enough to let her go, but she deserved to know the truth about the man she had taken up with. Their relationship had quickly become more than a mere dalliance—and probably had been from the moment he’d met her.
He released a sigh. If she judged him, he would simply find a way to win her back. If he had one singular skill, it was wooing a woman. “My brother died a year ago today.”
Sorrow and pity he didn’t deserve wreathed her features. She sat down on the edge of his desk, taking his face into her small, calloused hand. Her hands should be soft like lilies, not rough like the hands of a servant. The thought brought another round of self-loathing. She was here with him because she was supposed to be his servant. Ashamed, he couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You must have loved him very much.”
“I did. He was the best man I’ve ever known.”
“Like his brother, then.”
Nicholas gave a snort of wry laughter. “Hardly. I am but a pale imitation of my brother and, even on my best day, not worthy of such a comparison. I am the frivolous younger brother. Rob, though, he...” Nicholas trailed off, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. Even then, his voice broke when he said, “He was the responsible one, the one who took care of everybody. He went to law school, did everything right. I’ve never met anyone who worked harder
.”
Lexie gestured around her. “Look around you, Nick. You’ve worked hard, too.”
He closed his eyes against her argument. That she argued his merits with him brought another round of self-loathing. He didn’t deserve her esteem. “Not that hard. None of this is actually mine.”
“Your home in Sacramento is lovely. All that’s yours.”
He shook his head. “None of that matters, anyway. All I own is the result of my friendship with James Campbell. I met the man by chance, and he offered me the opportunity to invest in his shipping company, and the rest, as they say, is history. I was fortunate to have been born into a wealthy family, and Mother always favored me. So when I asked her for the money to invest, she gave it to me. I guess she thought if I made good investments, she’d make an honorable man out of me.”
Lexie smiled. “Maybe she did.”
“Hardly,” he replied, bitterness rising up like bile in the back of his throat and threatening to overtake him. “I’m reckless and frivolous and faithless. Rob was the good one, the one who always believed I’d turn myself around eventually. He lived an exemplary life, and wanted to give such a life to his wife and son.”
“I think you’re a good man,” she said, stroking his face. Despite his grief, lust bit at him hard, and it shamed him all the more.
He pulled her hands away from his face and placed a kiss in her palm. He didn’t deserve her. Maybe that was why, no matter what he did, a part of her remained closed off from him, as if separated by long miles of sea he couldn’t cross. Maybe he would never be able to bridge the distance between them, because someone like him wasn’t worthy of someone like her.
He wanted to be. More than anything, he wanted Lexie to trust him enough to give him her heart without reservation. He wanted to be the one man who got under Lexie’s skin and stayed there.
“You’re wrong, Lex, if you think I’m a good man. I’m not. I never have been, and I don’t make any attempt to hide who I am. You knew what I was when I brought you here. You weren’t mistaken in your assessment of me.”
The Marker Page 16
