Chapter 17
“There’s snow in your hair, poor thing,” Kate said as he slipped from the icy damp of the alley into the warm box of her kitchen. She reached for him to brush the snow away, and Aidan closed his eyes at the pleasure of being touched.
“I made some tea. I know how the cold affects you.”
Aidan growled at her coy smile. “Will you view me as weak forever? That day was ridiculously cold, and you were the only person mad enough to want to be outside.”
“So sensitive, Mr. York. Have I injured your pride?”
“Perhaps. I plan to take it out of your hide at a later date.”
Kate’s husky laugh sang through him. “You may try your best.”
“I will.”
Her hair gleamed dark in the lamplight, her skin glowed pale. She looked ethereal, ghostly. The thought sent a slow curl of discomfort turning in his gut. She was a ghost, but she’d somehow been sent back to him, nearly whole. He would not forget that.
When he trailed a finger along the edge of her jaw, she closed her eyes and smiled, as if she savored soft touch as much as he did. As he turned to hang his coat on a peg, Kate poured tea and added sugar. Silence grew between them, but it was nothing like the silence that always fell over him with other women. He had, after all, always chosen his lovers with the opposite of friendship in mind. Women who were as cold as they were hot. Women who cared nothing for his thoughts. But with Kate, it was as if he were a man at home. As if they’d told all their stories to each other and now needed nothing but silence.
There was no logic in that. They’d been strangers for ten years and lovers for only one night. But this ease between them was as real as it had ever been.
And yet she was another man’s wife.
He sipped the tea she handed him, trying to dislodge the terrible jealousy from his throat.
Kate set her hand to his chest. “I wanted to touch you tonight,” she whispered. “But I couldn’t.”
The heat of his jealousy was fanned by her admission, and Aidan lost any sense of ease. He set down the cup and framed her face in his hands so that he could kiss her. She opened for him as soon as his mouth touched hers, thank God. He was desperate for the taste of her, the sure knowledge that she was his. At this moment, she was his and no one else’s.
He deepened the kiss and her hands fisted into his waistcoat, as if she’d pull him tighter still. He understood. It did not matter how close they got, it wasn’t enough. It never had been.
“Come upstairs,” she urged, the words warm against his mouth. “Come to my bed.”
He need hear no more than that. Pulling away, he set his palm to her back and urged her toward the stairway, but she soon outpaced him and he found himself rushing to catch up.
He was not used to this new Kate yet, and Aidan was shocked when she simply reached for the fastenings of her dress as soon as she reached her bedroom. Fierce lust gripped him as he slipped off his jacket and loosened his cravat. She felt it too, this horrible, unending need to get closer, as if that could erase the distance of the past years.
He reached for the clasps at the back of her dress and as soon as it loosened she tugged it down. “My corset,” she urged, but he’d never planned to hesitate at all. His hands were already at the knots, tugging them free. Kate gasped as it finally opened, her ribs expanding against the chemise that stayed pressed to her body.
Her movements slowed as if the corset’s grip had made her panic, and now she was free to move with languid grace. She turned to him, meeting his eyes as she let down her hair. It tumbled around her shoulders, and his heart shook with the force of his pulse.
When her hands reached up to slide the straps of the shift from her shoulders, he sat down hard, thanking God that he actually hit the bed. She moved with such slow grace, inching the straps down and down till they finally caught at the crooks of her elbows, the shift barely clinging to her breasts.
Crossing her arms in a demure movement that tugged at his heart, she worked the shift farther. It dropped suddenly to catch at the curve of her hip.
Aidan sucked in a hard breath at the sight before him. Painful pleasure twisted inside his body, curling through his shaft until he was heavy and hard for her. She was a perfect picture, seductive and shy, her palms pressed to her breasts and her stomach smooth and white. He was almost thankful for her modesty. If she hadn’t covered her breasts, he definitely wouldn’t have noticed the curve of her waist that begged for the grip of his hands. He wouldn’t have even seen the adorable dip of her navel or the way her belly curved out just under it.
She shifted under his scrutiny and the thin fabric lost its hold, slithering to the floor. Aidan closed his eyes to savor the image that floated behind his lids. He just wanted a minute, one minute, to chisel it into his mind before it was gone forever. Those generous hips, soft and all his, the alabaster thighs, and that dark, dark triangle of curls, drawing his gaze and his soul.
He eased open his eyes to find her watching him through her lashes as if she were a student of coy seduction, but it was only shyness, he knew—she was still hiding behind her hands. That morning she hadn’t had time to anticipate, and neither had he.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, reaching for her elbows, drawing her to stand between his thighs. Reverently, unwilling to rush her, he kissed each of her knuckles, gently seducing her until her hands began to relax and fall away from her body.
“I know you’ve already seen me,” she whispered with a soft, nervous laugh. “And I guess I shouldn’t worry how I’ve changed. I hardly think you got so much as a peek when I was seventeen.”
“No,” he answered as he kissed a small circle around one areola. “Those times were a bit too hurried for this sort of . . . exploration. But I can assure you”—she whimpered as he traced his tongue around that circle—“that there’s never been another woman as beautiful as you.”
“That’s silly.” Her words were faint, shaky.
“No, it’s true.”
The last words she uttered before he sucked her nipple into his mouth were nearly inaudible, but he thought she said, “Thank you.” But words were superfluous now. By the time he laid her on the bed, all she offered were sighs and gasps.
Aidan discarded the rest of his clothing and joined her on the narrow mattress. It was too small for sleeping comfortably, but in that moment he was thrilled to be forced close. He lay on his side to face her, meeting her eyes as he touched her body. Her gaze grew solemn as he shaped her waist and hips, and before he could touch more of her, Kate twined her leg around his and pressed her hips to his.
Pleasure and need radiated outward from that spot, making his eyelids flutter as she dragged herself up. “Kate . . .” he murmured, but she slid higher until his cock notched itself to her opening.
“Please, Aidan,” she said. “Please just . . .”
What could he do but please her? He understood. It felt like years since he’d entered her this morning. Like the ghost of the years they’d spent apart.
So when he felt her leg tighten around his, Aidan pushed inside her. Just an inch. Just enough to feel her flesh squeeze him and her sigh whisper over his cheek.
“We don’t have to go so fast, love.”
“Yes, we do,” she insisted, so he pushed higher.
“Ah!” she cried. “Yes.”
Yes. Of course, yes. She was right. There was no point in waiting. All they wanted was this. She tilted her hips on his next thrust, and then he was deep within her.
Aidan spread his fingers over her jaw, and she turned her head to catch his thumb between her teeth.
Her body was so hot around him, against him, her tongue like fire on his skin. It was so much pleasure that it hurt, and as he took her in slow, careful thrusts, Aidan realized he’d never done this. He’d never faced a woman like this as they made love. Never watched every flutter of her lashes. Never watched her mouth form each sigh against his skin.
And so here was another first
with Kate. He hadn’t meant for them to lose their innocence that day. He hadn’t planned it. But their kisses had turned to touching, and she’d sighed so sweetly when he stroked her thigh. And then he’d touched the core of her body, and my God . . . The hot slickness of her. The slippery feel. There, he’d thought madly. That is where my body goes. Into that impossible heat and pleasure.
He’d heard talk, of course, but who could’ve imagined the utter perfection of it? Not him. Not in a million years.
But here was this perfect place again, inside Kate. He thrust harder, and watched her lips part on a moan.
Curving his body farther away from hers, he dragged his hand down her neck to her chest, lingering over her breasts to caress them until she moaned again. It was too much: watching and feeling and hearing and tasting. He would not last. He’d leave her wanting. That he couldn’t bear, so Aidan gritted his teeth and dragged his hand lower, until he could just press his thumb to that pearl of nerves at the top of her sex.
Her sex tightened, and they both hissed with pleasure. He wanted to feel her climax around his cock. Wanted her to spasm and shake as he had her.
“Aidan,” she whimpered, her fingers reaching for his shoulder to put her nails to his flesh. He needed to close his eyes if he was going to last, but he couldn’t look away from her. The skin around her eyes tightened, she bit her lip. Aidan rolled his hips and she keened.
Now, he prayed silently. Now. Please now, for me.
He flicked his thumb faster, and she finally broke. Her tight face softened into wonder, she drew in an impossibly long breath, and then she sobbed. Her sex rippled around his shaft, and Aidan wanted to sob himself, but he was busy gritting his teeth and holding on. Just another moment, just one more second to watch pleasure soften her face to the innocence of that girl she’d been.
Then he finally slid his body free of her, and his own climax jerked through him with bittersweet pleasure. Bittersweet, because he wanted back inside her.
Kate slipped her arms around his ribs and squeezed him closer. He felt the slide of his seed against her skin.
“Aidan.” Her voice was thick with tears. “That is all I ever wanted.”
But his throat was too tight to tell her the same.
She’d risen to wash her body and Aidan’s as well. Then she’d damped the fire in the stove and dimmed the lamp until the light barely skimmed their bodies. Now she was back in Aidan’s arms, pressed tight against him in her small bed. It should’ve felt strange, tucked in so close to another person, but instead it felt lovely and right.
“I leave tomorrow,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’ve postponed as long as I can.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m so happy right now.”
Aidan’s smile turned time back ten years; he looked so sweet and young. Kate smiled back.
“Will you come with me?” he asked.
“You know I can’t.”
He settled his head deeper into the pillow. “I received a letter from my brother today.”
“Oh?”
“My sister is returning from her wedding trip, and my cousin’s ready to announce his betrothal. There will be a grand party, of course.”
“Of course,” she laughed.
“After London, I’ll have to return home or my mother will never forgive me.”
Kate slipped her fingers into his hair, remembering again how soft it was. “There’s no question you must go. Don’t say it as if you must apologize.”
“I want you to come to the party.”
“Aidan! Don’t be mad. That’s impossible.”
“Why?”
Kate shook her head and rolled to her back, feeling the edge of the mattress and the space that loomed beyond it. “Why even ask such a thing? My husband, my shop, my family . . .”
“Then what about London? Would you come to London? Just for a few days. I’ll leave the knocker off the door. No one will even know we’re there.”
“I can’t! Not right now. I’m still cultivating this business. I’m supporting myself.”
“I know,” he sighed, pulling her back to rest against him. “But I wish . . .”
She stroked his hair again, but at his next words, her hand froze.
“Perhaps . . . perhaps we could look into divorce.”
“Pardon?” she rasped, her heart shuddering beneath her breast.
“Your husband could be accused of desertion. He is never coming.”
She knew that better than he, but she couldn’t allow Aidan to even consider the insane idea of divorce. If he even mentioned it to someone, everything would become exposed. Her name. David’s death. This false life she’d built for herself. And whatever disaster Gerard had created. So she swallowed hard and dug deeper into her lie. “We no longer live as man and wife, but that hardly means he deserves to be shamed. He’s still worthy of respect and honor.”
“Ah.” His whole body changed in that moment. His warm flesh cooled and hardened into stone. “Unlike me?”
“Aidan.”
“You’d take me as your lover, but—”
“Yes, as my lover. And everything that means.”
“Well, what does it mean?” he snapped.
“Aidan, I’ve no experience with this. But I’m given to understand that in London . . . in London . . .”
She saw his head turn slowly toward her, his eyes glinting in the faint light. “What have you heard?”
His voice had gone so hard that she lost her nerve and could only shake her head. “Never mind.”
Aidan sat up and swung from the bed to pace to the other side of the room. “What have you heard about London?”
“I only heard that married women there take lovers as a matter of course. Is that not true?”
Aidan stared silently at her, his shadow a blank space in the room.
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
He’d frightened her with his reaction, and now her fear turned to anger. “Why are you stomping about the room as if I’ve insulted you? You cast it as dishonor to be asked to my bed? Is that what you think I’ve done? Dishonored myself?”
“I . . . No. No, of course not.”
“As if it’s an insult that I want you!”
“No. I’m sorry, Kate. It’s only jealousy. Of him and his name and his hold over you. That he would come between us . . .”
Kate slumped back into the bed, all her nervous outrage stolen away. She understood, because David did still sit between them, though in ways that Aidan couldn’t comprehend.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“I want this thing for us, Aidan. Not for the ceremony or title of it. I don’t need your name. Do I?”
He moved closer and sat wearily on the mattress. “No. You’re right. This is enough. It’s everything. But what if there’s a babe? Surely that is more than enough motive to consider divorce now, before it becomes necessary?”
“I have been married a long while, and there has never been a child.” That was true enough, though David had come to her bed rarely, and never after the first few years. And every month she had said a small prayer of thanks.
His hand splayed against her belly.
“We cannot simply go back to where we ended,” she said quietly. “There’s no going back for us.”
“I know,” he said, and she could tell by the terrible weight of his words that he did.
“But we can have this, can’t we? Does it have to be a disappointment?”
She waited, feeling the lovely heat of his hand against her stomach. She wanted desperately for it to be enough for him, because what if it wasn’t? She couldn’t give him more. She couldn’t be more. And if Aidan left now, she’d spend her lifetime remembering what she might have had.
Aidan sighed. “Of course it is not a disappointment, Kate. Never think that. It’s more than I dreamed possible.”
“Then come back to bed.”
He hesitated for only one heartbeat before sliding back beneath the bedclothes.
“I’ll leave before dawn,” he promised, but it felt so far away that Kate didn’t care. This was enough for her, because it must be.
Chapter 18
He was gone the next day, and Kate’s world returned to normal. She swept and filled orders and brewed samples. She interacted with her neighbors as if nothing had changed, answering the occasional question about India and her husband. No one looked at her strangely. No one commented on her transformation from wraith to woman. It was as if he’d never been there.
Yet there were the places on her body that felt different. The raw places where his roughened jaw had scraped her. The space between her legs that his cock had stretched. Her mouth felt full and sensitive. Her hands weak from clutching him to her. And her heart . . . that was altogether changed, her blood replaced by something brighter and quicker.
But no one noticed, and the secret only made it all the more delicious.
She had a lover, and it felt even sweeter than it had when she was a girl. That sweetness buoyed her courage, and she was restless to face what she’d once run from.
She hadn’t meant to hurt Gerard. Not that night, nor any time before. But she’d known from the start that his feelings for her had been nothing like what a son should feel for his father’s wife. She could understand that. They’d lived in the jungle, isolated from the world, and Kate and Gerard had been nearly the same age. “You should’ve been my wife,” he’d once whispered. He’d still been young then, and Kate had only stammered and blushed until he’d left her room. But he’d grown more persistent after David’s decline in health.
Still, she’d never expected his jealousy to drive him to such madness.
When midday arrived and the shop grew quiet, Kate locked the door and walked out into the bright day. The sun was high, but all its warmth was lost somewhere in the heavens. As she hurried through the busy streets toward the dockmaster’s house, the air stuck to her skin like ice. By the time she knocked on Lucy’s front door, she was shivering. She’d finally left the heat of Ceylon behind.
A maid let her in, but only a half second passed before she heard her name called. “Kate!” Lucy trilled, skipping down the stairs. “I was just coming to see you!”
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