Although he knew he was far from inexperienced, he understood clearly there was a marked difference between seducing a woman, winning her into his arms and into his bed, and a half-drunk but willing tumble between himself and a tavern wench or being serviced by a well-practiced professional.
He had to confess to being nervous. He knew only too well there was something delicate and precious before him and that one clumsy misstep would see it shatter. They would both be poorer for it.
Right now, the object of his musings looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to take the lead. The smell of darkly-brewed tea reached him and he breathed it in.
“I saw an easel in the dining room,” he said, picking up his cup of black tea. He watched her carefully, her moue of surprise at a conversation that had little to do with the subject they had both been thinking about.
She stirred and stirred her tea until there was a draw of current that reminded him of a whirlpool he once saw at the bottom of a waterfall.
“The Denton family has come to the end of its line and Kenstec is being sold. I thought I’d write a history. The new owner might be interested. I decided to sketch some of the features.”
“May I see?”
Her eyebrows rose.
“Really?”
Adam drained his cup, rose and held out his hand.
“Really.”
Olivia’s cooling tea was abandoned as they strolled back to the dining room. He liked the fact that she took his hand readily.
“I’ve always found this fireplace beautiful,” she said. “I’d only ever been in the room a dozen times when the squire was alive, but now…” She pointed to the mantel header. “Look at the figuring in the marble. You’d think it was burr walnut.”
Adam drew closer. He leaned forward to brush his fingers across the cool, smooth marble. His chest pressed against her back.
“From Italy, do you think?” he whispered into her ear. He was aroused at the sound of her sigh.
“Yes. I was told the pieces arrived six months after the squire and Mistress Caroline returned from their honeymoon.”
Adam placed a soft kiss on the column of her neck. He loved the slight pink flush to her cheeks. The temptation to seize her in his arms and march up to her bedroom was strong, but he fought it.
“Show me where else you’ve sketched.”
“There’s the study. Most of the pieces of furniture in that room are remaining with the house. Mistress Caroline didn’t want them.”
“Let’s compare the room with your sketches.”
He took the sketchbook from the easel and carried it under his arm. His other arm went around Olivia’s waist. As they walked down the hall toward the study, his fingers traced the curve of her hip, the line of her waist to the edge of her ribs, and back down.
Olivia’s left hand spread across his back and, after a moment, began an exploration of its own, rubbing the planes of his back, then lower, mimicking the actions of his own hand. He imagined making love to her in every room in the manor, bed or not, furniture or not, claiming for themselves this place which held so many bittersweet memories.
The battle became a war. His body pleaded for mercy. The still rational part of his mind refused to give in.
A slow and steady seduction, remember?
It would either kill him or cure him.
At some point between an inspection of the study and the examination of the carvings on the main staircase, the balance of power shifted.
No longer was it him alone trying to seduce. Olivia became bolder in her caresses in response to his. She was beginning to know his body – and there was still so much more for her to learn.
They paused on the first floor landing. Her room was only a few yards away. Adam looked up to the top floor.
“Have you returned to the roof? The view would make a spectacular subject.”
“Not yet,” she said, turning in his arms so she faced him. “I’m afraid to go up there by myself, especially in the afternoon when the wind rises.”
Adam abandoned the sketchbook in a wall niche, standing it on the narrow ledge, so he could hold her in both arms. Olivia reached up, circled his neck and pressed herself closer. His mind declared defeat. He claimed her mouth savagely, with all the pent up arousal of the past half-hour.
She responded with equal fervor, giving license to his hands to roam how and where they wished.
*
Adam’s seduction was driving her slowly mad. His light touches and gentle caresses inflamed her, but kept her wanting and he was doing it deliberately. She knew she wanted so much more and had joined him in the tease, only touching him to the equal measure of his touch, hoping he would discern what her body craved.
And now, with his mouth plundering hers, Olivia knew she was closer to what she sought. She matched him where she could, carried away by the tide of passion. Her body ruled her mind, searching for satisfaction in the difference between her body and his.
Eventually, Adam broke away from their kiss. His eyes were wild. That mouth of his, that seemed to know her outside and in, was now firmly closed, his expression dangerous. A rush of heat settled between her legs.
The tender teasing was over and he very nearly dragged her down the hall to her room. Adam shoved open the door and swept her into his arms before the door rebounded off the wall.
Before she could catch her breath, Olivia felt the bed at her back and Adam’s weight beside her. She knew he watched her closely as she did him, and they found their way without words. She told him all she needed by reaching for him, a subtle pressure to the back of his head brought his lips down to her once again.
He had settled himself alongside her, his hip to hers. A hand cupped her breast through her gown while they kissed, his thumb stroking against her nipples making them sensitive. The sensation was exquisite.
“How far do you want to take this, Olivia?”
She blinked rapidly, not understanding the question at first. A second later, the meaning dawned on her. Her entire body flushed but still the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she answered by reaching down to stroke the erection visible within his breeches. Adam let out a shuddering breath.
“You realize you’ve just sealed your fate?” he asked.
“Possibly,” she answered, intoxicated with this newfound influence to bring a man larger and more powerful than herself to his knees.
“Probably…” he growled, “Certainly.”
She giggled, a genuine wellspring of delight.
*
With the litheness of a cat, Adam stood up from the bed, pulling her up with him.
“Then let’s do this properly.”
He made short work of removing most of his own clothing. Uncomfortable though it was, he kept his trousers on while he unbuttoned the back of Olivia’s day dress and untied the bow that helped give shape to the bustline.
He kissed her bare neck and shoulders, then slid his hands down her waist and further still until he gathered the hems of her dress and shift beneath it. As he rose he felt the heat of her body. He drew his knuckles over her soft skin. Olivia’s hands covered his. They removed the garments together. His breathing was harsh as he battled for control. And yet, over that, he heard Olivia’s shuddering breath.
She looked back at him uncertainly. He smiled to reassure her and she turned to face him. He looked everywhere. She was beautiful; she was everything. But it was the trust he saw in her brown eyes that nearly brought him undone. He rained kisses on her face, savoring the feel of her naked breasts against his skin and the light strokes of her fingers across his back sent waves of gooseflesh across it.
He released the buttons of his trousers until he stood as naked as she did, before escorting her to the bed, peeling back the blankets to expose the sheets beneath. When they were settled comfortably, he drew the top sheet over their hips. Light streamed through the upper floor window, a cooling breeze whispered through the half-opened window.
He could not reca
ll the last time he had been so tentative with a woman – perhaps the last time had been that summer twenty years ago when he was just an adolescent. He started with a soft kiss to Olivia’s lips, forcing himself to slow when all he wanted was to settle himself between her legs and find the sweetness there.
“Touch me,” he whispered, trying not to make it sound like a command. “Touch me freely.”
Tentative fingers stroked his biceps, then slid up his shoulders to pull him down and deepen the kiss.
At that moment, he was lost. Adam knew with a certainty that come hell or high water, he would not be letting Olivia go.
*
At his invitation to touch, Olivia did so, pulling him down further for a deeper kiss until they both broke apart for air. She brushed her fingers against the hair on his chest, which was darker and more wiry than the hair on his head, and savored the feel of it moments before feeling it brush on her breasts, tickling her increasingly sensitive nipples.
She drew her hands down his arms with his body over hers. Hard, yet soft…in fact, that could be said of the man Adam Hardacre himself.
She wanted to explore him as he did her. But the wondrous feelings he aroused in her stole all her focus. She wondered at it – everything felt new. The soft sheets that covered half of her from view caressed her skin, arousing her almost as much as the man beside her.
She welcomed his touch everywhere – in her hair, holding her head still for yet another kiss; tracing fingers across her breasts, her belly and lower still until they reached the junction of her legs where fingers parted her folds and a thumb gently caressed that sensitive part of her bringing a craving to the surface.
Any measure of control she thought she had vanished once Adam’s lips surrounded one nipple and he licked it. She clung on to him, drowning in sensation, storm-tossed, electricity crackling everywhere around her. Olivia gasped as though coming up to the surface of a raging ocean and falling into the rhythm he set with his thumb. She moved her hips restlessly along with it, aware of her building arousal, wanting more until she reached the peak of it. Sparks of electricity shot through every nerve, powerfully and fully, until she could no longer prevent a cry from leaving her lips.
Adam shifted. Olivia spread her legs to accommodate him between her legs. His tip brushed against newly sensitive flesh and she was breathless once more. Adam’s face was above hers, his eyes closed in concentration, his breathing harsh.
He entered her.
She threw her head back as she felt her body accommodate him and cried out once again. He paused, resting on his forearms until they shook with the strain. The look he gave her revealed the cost of holding back.
She caressed his cheek.
“My love,” she whispered.
“My a’th kar, hwegoll,” he whispered.
Olivia knew enough of the traditional Cornish to translate – I love you, my sweet.
He moved within her, his whole body taking up the rhythm his hands had struck earlier. Her own hands roamed his chest, caressed his arms, her own body feeling the rising sensation where they joined.
Then he withdrew, finishing himself off on her belly.
Adam let out a shuddering breath and collapsed beside her, his face flat against the pillow. She could see one eye and the sheen of sweat darkening the hair at his brow.
“What you do to me, my sweet…I almost forgot myself.”
I know there are ways to pleasure each other without risk of a pregnancy.
Olivia blushed; she had forgotten all about that, and of Constance’s misfortune. She started to turn her head away when she felt Adam’s fingers on her chin.
“No, none of that,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her lips softly. “No shyness now.”
She returned his kisses. They were tender, soothing, not intended to arouse, and she settled into his embrace, now able to savor the feel of his body next to hers, the way his fingers trailed up and down her arm. She closed her eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “It was everything I had hoped for and more.”
“It was what you asked for, but…” he replied. The words chilled her as much as her own cooling body.
“But in the end, it’s not what you want?” she asked, sensing his thought.
“‘One time,’ you said. ‘Make love to me just one time.’” He rolled onto his back. “I’ve failed at my end of the bargain.”
Adam was making no sense. She raised herself up onto an elbow and pulled the sheet over her waist but kept her eyes on his face.
“How so? Do you regret what we’ve done?”
“Only if you tell me to leave, your curiosity satisfied. Because I’ll tell you now – it’s not enough for me. I could make love to you for a thousand and one nights and it wouldn’t be enough.”
She squeezed her eyes shut a moment. Her heart ached with his declaration; her whole body acknowledged the same desire.
“I feel the same way.”
“Then break your contract with Fitzgerald.”
“I cannot.”
At his long drawn out sigh of frustration, her eyes fell away from his. For a few minutes, she allowed herself the indulgence of looking at his body, tanned from years at sea, muscles made strong by physical labor, before laying back on the bed and reflected on how they found themselves.
Adam was right.
Her own desire for him was nowhere near sated, but what could she do? Hope for some miracle to come between now and the end of summer? Without marriage or work, she was lost, but never would she press him into making a marriage proposal that he was not willing to make.
If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride…
Instead, Olivia shook her head.
“Then we will not talk of it. After all, you are in no position to wed, and I am in no position at all,” she whispered.
She waited for him to say something in reply. After a moment Olivia turned. Adam’s eyes were closed, the rise and fall of his chest regular and steady, his mouth slightly open.
He had fallen asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
You are in no position to wed and I am in no position at all…
Adam heard the words in a half-sleep state but he was too far from the surface to answer her.
Now, he had no idea how long he slept, but he was alone, the sheets beside him cold. He might have thought making love to Olivia was a dream but for the faint smell of honeysuckle from the pillow, and the fact he was still naked.
Olivia was right; he was in no position to wed. Worse, he was in no position to even tell her why he couldn’t. If there had been any doubt about that in his mind, Ridgeway had provided reasons enough.
“Play this carefully,” the older man had instructed. “It’s clear they don’t trust you, but you’ve offered enough bait for them to risk it. I’ve seeded sufficient information back to the Admiralty that rumors of a secret warship will sound credible to any traitor they may have high up in London.”
“Be careful they don’t slit your throat the minute they get their hands on these,” said Bassett, holding up a scrolled document.
Adam had thanked him for his concern.
“Concern? Sorry, Hardacre, but that’s some of my best work there, especially forging His Majesty’s seal; I don’t want it ruined with blood. I might want to frame it when this business is over.”
Ridgeway had shaken his head indulgently before continuing to address Adam.
“Demanding to see the mastermind has got you this far, but it’s not going to get you all the way. You will have to convince them you’re with them one hundred percent – but also with an eye on self-preservation.
“So watch carefully. Observe everyone. The Collector, as he calls himself, will likely say little. In fact, he may be the most unobtrusive person in the room, so watch the others. They will defer to him in some way at some point – by way of a glance or nod.
“And they’ll expect you to be armed, so bring something for them to take from you –
a knife will do, but not one you’d be sorry to lose. And if things go bad and you have to fight, use your wits.”
Bassett smirked. “Well, he’s done for then, isn’t he?”
Adam had reached out quickly, his hand gripping the little forger’s throat but only lightly in the spirit of the jest. Ridgeway cleared his throat and Adam let go of Bassett with a smile.
“We’ll have people watching you,” Ridgeway continued, “so don’t worry about that. Just focus on your mission. Keep your head clear. No distractions. None.”
Adam had given Ridgeway his full attention then. The man’s piercing blue eyes pinned him to the chair.
“Meaning?”
“You know full well what I mean. Olivia Collins is off limits.”
The light that spilled through the window was orange; soon twilight would be upon them. Midnight. He had to be gone just after midnight, and he’d need his wits about him. Adam’s stomach grumbled. He also needed a good feeding.
He dressed and went down the servant’s stairs to the kitchen. Olivia was there, her back to him. Her light brown hair tumbled in soft waves down her back. He wanted to run his fingers through it. His body started to stir.
She turned slightly. Adam saw her examine something in her hand. The bloom in his chest turned to stone.
Olivia held an envelope. On the kitchen table, his satchel was open. Beside it, a scroll tied in dark blue ribbon, its wax seal broken.
The plans for the fake battleship.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
Olivia nearly leapt. The hand holding the envelope went to her breast and he saw it was the message that had waited for him at the post office.
“That’s the second time today you’ve snuck up on me!” she scolded, breathless.
The lively surprise on her face then dimmed to match his dark mood.
“I…I’m sorry. I accidentally pushed your satchel over when I put my things on the table. Everything went on the floor. I was just picking it up.”
Adam looked at the table again. Yes, he could see where the leg of her folded easel might have easily nudged his bag. On top of the easel was Olivia’s own satchel and sketchbook. It was an innocent mistake; he didn’t need to be so severe.
Barons, Brides, and Spies: Regency Series Starter Collection Volume Two Page 86
