by Laura Landon
“I will hear the music for you.”
Jessica clamped her teeth on her lower lip and turned her head away from him. Didn’t he know? Didn’t he realize she could never be normal? Didn’t he see that no matter how much he forced her to do what was easy for everyone else, he couldn’t change the facts?
His wife could not hear.
Her heart slammed in her breast when she felt his finger beneath her chin, raising her gaze until it locked with his. The determined look in his eyes bound her to him. “Trust me, Jesse. Follow where I lead you.” He moved. Slowly to the right. Then back to the left. Again to the right. Then back to the left.
Jessica tightened her grip and shifted her startled gaze to her feet. His finger raised her chin.
“Look at my face, Jesse. Move with me. Follow my lead.”
Jessica moved her right foot, then her left. Every muscle in her body trembled. She couldn’t do this. But she was. And heaven help her, what an amazing feeling.
To be held securely in his arms. To move with him as if they were one. Her gaze drifted back to her feet, but Simon’s fingers tightened on her hand in warning and she quickly looked up.
“Relax. I will lead and you must follow. To dance, you must rely on your partner to show you where to go.”
He pulled her closer and executed another series of simple steps—first to the right, then to the left.
His hand wrapped around her waist like a tightened vise. Each movement caused her to brush against his muscled chest until her breasts ached. A consuming heat swirled deep within her stomach and moved lower.
Jessica breathed a fluttering breath and tried to let her shoulders drop. How could she relax with his arms around her? How could she relax with a whirlpool of turbulence spiraling to her stomach? How could she relax when she couldn’t even think?
Right. Left. Right. Turn, left. She closed her eyes and let her body do whatever he led it to do. Right. Left. Turn, right.
Who would have thought moving around the room in a man’s arms would be such a wondrous experience? Surely it was not at all proper to feel this way.
His fingers tightened around her hand again, and she looked up. His lips parted. A gentle smile lit his face. “You are a fast learner, wife.”
Jessica swallowed and then took a deep breath. For some reason her breathing was much more labored than usual. “It’s only because you’re holding me. You leave me little choice but to move as if my body is one with yours. I doubt if Lord Milebanke will hold me so.”
“He won’t live to see dawn if he does.”
Jessica frowned at him. She must have misunderstood what he said.
Simon cleared his throat. She could feel his chest rumble beneath her hand.
“To waltz, you will execute a series of similar steps. Start with your right foot, and the pattern is slow-quick-quick, slow-quick-quick. Like this.” Simon demonstrated the steps and then pulled her into his arms and moved across the room.
Jessica stumbled on the first two quick steps, and he stopped and began again.
His patience gave her confidence. The second time was better, and by the time they’d done the series a few more times, she was moving in his arms as if she’d danced forever.
A slight pressure to her hand brought her gaze upward. He greeted her gaze with a brilliant smile. “Don’t look down. Keep your eyes open and a smile on your face.”
Around and around the room they twirled, her one arm resting on the bulging muscles across his shoulder, the other outstretched with her fingers nestled securely in the palm of his hand.
Jessica held on to him as they moved across the floor, unable to take her gaze from his face. Her husband had such a beautiful face. He could make her feel things she did not want to feel. Ache for things she did not understand. Suddenly, an explosion of shivers raced through her body.
She let her hand roam over his shoulder. His thin lawn shirt hid very little. The open lacing down the front revealed much. Never before had she experienced such power. Such overwhelming strength. The breath caught in her throat.
She brought her gaze back to his mouth. The same mouth that had kissed her until she could barely breathe. A kiss that still lingered in her memory. That still caused her to shudder.
“I’m dancing, aren’t I?”
“Yes, Jesse, and you are dancing beautifully.”
He held her tight and circled with her around the room again.
This wasn’t dancing. This was heaven. On a real dance floor, being held in someone else’s arms, it would not be like this. She would make a fool of herself, and the whole world would know she couldn’t hear.
She closed her eyes and pressed her body hard against him. A blast of heat raced over every inch of her skin. The chilly night air no longer seemed cool but hot, as if it were the middle of summer. And they were barely moving.
Jessica opened her eyes. “Simon?” She struggled to find the strength to speak.
“Yes?”
“Do all waltzes move this slowly?”
“The one I’m listening to does.”
“But there’s no music.”
“I told you, we don’t need music.”
They barely moved. Only swayed back and forth. Back and forth. They stood in one spot and moved back and forth while his hand…Oh, God. His hand. Jessica bit her lower lip.
His hand moved over her back, blazing a path wherever his fingers touched her. Up to her shoulders. Cupping her head. Threading his fingers through the loose waves. Then moving down again to the small of her back. And lower.
She wanted to look away from him, but she could not. The penetrating gaze in his eyes bound her to him while his hands worked a strange magic on her flesh. She couldn’t breathe. Every inch of her body tingled in response to his touch.
In a single movement, he pushed the robe from her shoulders.
It fell to the floor at her feet. Only her thin muslin gown separated them. It seemed far too revealing—yet far too Confining. A violent churning swirled deep in her stomach, and she could not make it stop.
What was happening to her? She wanted nothing, except his hands to touch her. His lips to kiss her.
He rested his hands on her hips and moved upward ever so slowly. He touched the side of her breasts and moved inward.
She should make him stop. She’d die if he did.
The room suddenly darkened and she blinked. “One of the candles went out.”
“We do not need light, Jesse.”
“I will not be able to see what you’re saying in the dark.”
“It doesn’t matter, wife. I will not be talking.”
Simon blew out another candle, then pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his own.
She was drowning. This kiss was nothing like the first kiss. Before, only his mouth had turned her weak-kneed and helpless. Now she could not even begin to describe the chaos his hands caused.
She wanted him closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on as if she were in danger of falling. Heaven help her, she was. Simon had taken her to the precipice of a tall mountain and leaped with her in his arms. He had flown with her high into the sky as if they both had wings, then soared back to earth. Only they had yet to land. Their feet were nowhere near the ground.
He kissed her again. Deep. Hard. Completely. His mouth opened atop hers, and Jessica followed his lead. She knew what he wanted, and she welcomed him. The moment his tongue touched hers a thousand tiny fireballs exploded inside her.
She’d been lonely for so long, ached for something so long and never understood what it was. Now she knew, but wasn’t sure she could live with the knowing.
It was Simon. She ached to have his arms around her, his lips against hers, his hands touching her.
She couldn’t understand what was happening to her. She couldn’t stand on her own. The sensations he caused with his touch, with his kiss, were a thousand times greater than anything she had ever imagined.
She dug her fingers int
o the corded muscles of his shoulders and held on.
His mouth lifted from hers, and he framed her face with his hands. A glazed look stared down at her. “This was not supposed to happen yet, Jesse. I promised myself it would not.”
He brought his mouth down on hers again, his kiss even more intense than before. More demanding. When he blazed a trail of kisses down her throat, Jessica tilted her head, amazed at the raging fire spreading through her limbs.
He touched his lips to the hollow spot at the base of her throat, then kissed a path over the rise of her breasts while his fingers worked at the ribbons of her gown. The material parted, and he pushed it off her shoulders until she stood naked before him.
She shuddered a sigh. Oh, the feel of his mouth against her skin. Jessica squeezed her eyes shut tight and held him close as he moved his kisses lower on her breast. The sensation was tantalizing. She was powerless to do anything but anchor her hands on his shoulders and hold him to her.
She had never experienced anything so wonderful. So agonizing. She was positive she could stand no more. She wrapped her arms around Simon’s neck and nestled her head against his chest as he carried her across the room. He laid her down in the center of the bed, and she opened her arms to welcome him.
Chapter 12
Simon lifted a handful of Jessica’s satiny-brown hair from her shoulder and let it sift through his fingers. He’d been awake for hours, watching as muted shades of purple and pink and blue gave way to the sun’s vibrant rays. He was waiting for his wife to open her eyes and berating himself because he knew when she did, he would want to kiss her again.
For hours he’d watched her sleep in his arms, her head resting on his chest, a look of contentment on her face. That look tested every ounce of willpower he possessed.
He did not want to feel a softness toward her. He’d learned his lesson long ago. Rosalind had been an excellent teacher.
A disturbing heaviness pressed against his chest when he remembered the way Jessica had opened her arms to take him to her. The way she’d given herself to him, even though she didn’t understand what was happening to her.
Simon brushed a wisp of hair from her cheek and pulled the covers closer around her shoulders. In her sleep, she lifted her hand and rubbed the side of her face where he touched her, then breathed a deep sigh and settled back again with her arm draped across his body.
He filled his lungs with air and closed his eyes. He was not displeased with her. Not at all. Even though he would never allow himself to care for her more than necessary, on the whole, he considered himself lucky. She was more than pleasing to look at. Even beautiful, if he’d take the time to notice, which he would not. And her quick wit and intelligence did not cease to amaze him.
But it was her courage that impressed him most. An inner fortitude that gave her the strength to protect herself and her secret. A strength that would not allow her to admit defeat, no matter how many impossible situations he put in her path.
In less than twenty-four hours she had—for the first time ever—gone for a ride during the daylight where people could see her, conversed with members of the ton without making one blunder or giving away the fact that she could not hear what they were saying, accepted two invitations to mingle with society, learned to waltz, and had given her body to him.
Although she’d tried not to show it, Simon knew each experience had terrified her. Watching her stand up to him and question his every demand made his guilt that much more consuming.
He wasn’t proud of the way he’d used her, but she was a means to an end. He needed her wealth to make possible his dream of saving his inheritance. He’d married her to impose the vengeance he’d waited three years to exact. He would take every pound Tanhill thought to steal from Jessica and destroy him with it. He would see Tanhill beg for his life like he’d made Sarai beg for hers.
Simon looked at what was left of his grandmother’s mediocre painting. His courageous wife was also a bit of a spitfire with a better than passable temper.
He leaned his head back against the headboard and chuckled. He liked that about her, too.
“What is so funny?”
Her voice startled him, and he looked down. He didn’t realize she’d woken, and wondered how long she’d been watching him. “Did I wake you?” he asked, sitting up so she could see his lips.
“No.”
She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. He wasn’t ready to give up the feel of her body next to his. He touched her cheek and then let his fingers trace a line across her determined jaw. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”
Her face turned the most alluring shade of crimson, and she lowered her gaze. “No,” she answered, shaking her head. “I’m fine.”
She relaxed when he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and held her close. He’d seen the confusion on her face last night just before he’d taken her. He knew how much it required for her to trust him.
He also saw the passion that blazed in her eyes, but he was more startled by his own reaction.
He’d always been a master at controlling every physical situation. Until last night. Until her.
And he’d seen the astonishment in her gaze when she’d soared over the edge. Her explosive release mirrored his own.
Her fingers touched his skin lightly, then moved to the scar on his chest. “I didn’t know what it would be like between a man and a woman. No one told me.” She leaned up on her elbows to see him.
He breathed a deep sigh. “I know.” He brushed his fingers over her cheek and then cupped her chin to tilt her face upward. “It’s early yet. Go back to sleep.”
“I’m not tired. I’m ready to rise.”
“No. Stay here.” She didn’t move for a moment and then placed her hand back on the scar that angled across his chest. His muscles rippled beneath her fingers.
“How did you get this?” she asked, running a finger along the length of the jagged scar.
He saw concern in her gaze and tried to ignore it. “It’s not important. It happened a long time ago.”
“In India?”
“Yes.”
“It was a very deep wound. You could have died.”
“Does that bother you?”
A frown deepened across her forehead. “Death always bothers me. It would bother anyone.”
“It did not bother the man who did it. He watched the life flow from my body with a smile on his face.”
“He must have hated you very much.”
Even though he tried not to relive the horrors of that day, there were times when his mind refused to obey. How could he tell Jessica that her stepbrother did not need a reason to kill? He enjoyed causing pain.
“Simon?”
“Yes.”
“Will you have an heir now?”
The breath caught in Simon’s throat. “I don’t know.”
“Isn’t that why you came to me last night?”
Simon hesitated. “Yes. But it’s still too early to tell. It often takes time.” He looked at the pretty pink blush coloring her cheeks, and his body hardened in response.
“Melinda said it’s important that you have an heir.”
He told himself he would not take her again. That he was strong enough to fight his desire for her.
He locked his gaze with hers and knew he was losing his battle. Even though he’d had her twice already last night, it hadn’t been enough. His body reacted as if it had been years since he’d last had a woman. As if he were starving for something only the woman beside him could give.
He lowered his head and kissed her, moving from her lips to the sensitive spot behind her ear, then trailing a path down her throat. She was beautiful.
He kissed her mouth once more and held her cheeks in the palms of his hands. “Look at me, Jesse. Open your eyes and look at me.”
She stared at him, the dark look in her eyes glazed with passion, the feel of her hands on him desperate. With a need that totally consumed him, he made lov
e to her again.
Their journey was magnificent, their release violent and earth-shattering.
Simon collapsed against her and buried his face against her neck while he gasped for air. Loving her was incredible. Like never before.
He lifted himself up and looked into her eyes. Hopeful anticipation stared back at him, and he knew she was waiting for some sort of declaration from him of…what? Love? Hardly.
“Go to sleep, Jesse.”
Simon pulled away from her and rolled to the other side of the bed. With his arm beneath his head, he stared at the panels in the ceiling and cursed the way his body had betrayed him. He didn’t want it to be this way. Never thought it would be.
He kept his gaze from finding hers again. He knew if he looked, he’d see her hurt and confusion. He let the old barriers surround his heart and told himself he didn’t care. He would not let himself care. No woman would have that power over him ever again.
When he was sure she was asleep, he crawled out of bed and tiptoed across the room, careful not to disturb her. He stopped in midstride. What did it matter how much noise he made? She would never know.
Why did he keep forgetting she couldn’t hear?
Simon opened the door to the last wardrobe. Empty. He looked back to his sleeping wife on the bed and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his breeches. He’d been up and dressed for nearly an hour, but evidently his wife needed more rest. He didn’t bother to hide his smile of satisfaction while he resumed the search of his wife’s wardrobe.
He found three very worn day dresses with frayed collars and cuffs, and three more better dresses in dark, lifeless colors. He recognized the dark dress he’d seen her in the first time she came to him. And the striped dress she’d worn yesterday to the park. And the pretty, yet plain, dress in which she’d been married.
Where were the rest of her clothes? The party gowns? The fancy clothes she would wear when they went out?
Simon left the wardrobe doors ajar and walked out to the hall.
“Beatrice,” he said to the maid coming up the stairs. “Where does your mistress keep her ball gowns?”
