“I have been so looking forward to meeting you, Jessica. I’ve never had a sister.” Mia reached toward his sister as if to embrace her, but stopped when the other woman flinched back.
Mia had not even a speck of English reserve. She liked nothing better than to be in physical contact with other people. Adam’s family rarely touched. He supposed that would all change now.
“I’m pleased to meet you,” Jessica murmured, her natural shyness making her appear haughty, almost unfriendly. She had the same dark hair and pale skin as Adam but had inherited their father’ gray eyes, along with his almost crippling reserve.
Mia’s exuberant manner shifted subtly and became gentler. Adam realized it was the same way she’d handled him those first few days of his marriage, before he’d crumbled like a biscuit dipped in hot tea.
“Come,” he said, his emotions making him brisk. “It’s chilly out here and we’ve been on the road for hours. Is there a fire in the book room?”
“Yes, of course, and Bailey has prepared tea. I thought you might be hungry.”
“I’m dying for tea,” Mia said, companionably taking Jessica’s arm and walking with her. “I’m afraid our late arrival must be putting you out. Do you keep early hours in the country?”
“Yes, we do. I suppose you will find things rather quiet after London . . .” Jessica trailed off, clearly unsure of what to do with his new wife. She turned and looked at Adam, who followed them. “The girls are in bed, of course. I am sure they are not sleeping. I cannot seem to get Eva to stop reading under her blankets, no matter how dangerous I tell her it is.”
Adam suspected his headstrong daughter was becoming more than a match for her quiet, retiring aunt.
Mia stripped off her gloves and gave Adam a saucy wink. “I’m afraid I was the same when I was a girl, Jessica. My mother quite despaired of me. Of course, Adam won’t let me read under the covers now,” she confided, drawing a startled gasp from his sister.
Adam tried to frown but couldn’t.
Mia gave one of her wide-eyed looks—an expression he imagined her using frequently to get her way with the sultan.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Jessica. Was that shocking? Adam despairs of my ever being fit for decent company.”
Jessica tittered nervously at such playful conversation.
Mia waited until Jessica had turned away and poked out her tongue at Adam.
He mouthed the word wicked and became instantly hard at his wife’s sultry smile. He should be ashamed of behaving like a schoolboy but he’d given up trying to resist Mia and her high spirits. Besides, what was the point?
The book room was Adam’s favorite room in the castle. It took up the base of one of the four turrets. The ceiling was rather low, giving the room a cozy feeling, and the circular walls were lined with books from floor to ceiling.
The fireplace could roast an entire ox but now it held only fire. It blazed like a furnace, the oddly curved back throwing heat better than any other fireplace in the castle. It might be summer but the castle was always cold.
“It’s lovely,” Mia said, absently handing her reticule and gloves to Adam, who smiled wryly at his sister’s face—shocked to see her brother acting as his wife’s footman and enjoying it.
The tea tray arrived and Jessica moved toward it and then hesitated.
“Oh please, will you pour?” Mia asked, giving Jessica a pleading smile. “I know I should, but I’m so frightfully clumsy about such things,” said his wife, one of the most sinuously graceful women Adam had ever met.
“Certainly.” The gentle flush that spread across Jessica’s cheeks was the only sign Mia’s invitation had pleased her. Adam’s heart, which he’d forgotten existed until a few weeks ago, swelled. Mia was unfailingly thoughtful and kind, and it pleased him more than he could believe that she was making such an effort to reassure Jessica that her place was secure.
“I am surprised to find the weather so clear here,” Adam said. “It rained almost the entire way.” He shook his head at Jessica’s offer of tea and poured himself a brandy instead.
“It must be moving north, we were covered for some days with a gray blanket of clouds. The rain was so heavy Eva and Melissa were teasing poor Miss Banks almost mad. Neither had been riding for almost a week. You know how they can become.”
Adam’s heart stuttered and then sped up. “She is able to keep them in hand, I trust?” he asked in a voice that was sharper than he wished.
“Oh yes, Adam.” Tea sloshed over the rim of the cup she was pouring. She shot a quick glance at Mia, who was standing in front of the fireplace, gaping up at the mantel, which arched a good foot above her head.
Small tendrils of alarm grew in his stomach and spread through his body, just as they always did when he came home. He watched Mia as she moved around the room, inspecting the many items of interest. Just looking at her made him . . . happy?
“And Catherine, how is she?” Adam asked, the maelstrom of emotions leaving him rather breathless and dazed.
“She is well. Very well, in fact,” Jessica assured him, seeming eager to dispel the cloud that had already formed. “Tea, my lady?” Jessica glanced toward where Mia was standing.
“Oh, yes. Thank you! But please, won’t you call me Mia?”
“Yes, of course . . . Mia. And you must call me Jessica.” Jessica’s smile was somewhat tremulous.
Adam had never noticed before just how fragile his sister appeared. A spasm of guilt joined his other emotions as he realized how little assistance she’d received from him since their mother had died.
Mia settled in the corner of a large sofa and looked expectantly at Adam. He couldn’t resist the smile that curved her lips as he sat next to her and she fitted herself to his side. She was the most physical person he had ever known. Even Danforth’s sisters, who constantly ruffled and smacked and embraced those close to them, were not as tactile as Mia.
With him, in particular, she was not only tactile but unconsciously sensual. When they were alone she was never far from him, preferring to sit on a cushion next to his chair if he was working at his desk, rather than on a chair farther away. He had become accustomed to her unusual habits in a remarkably short time, finding her casual and comfortable manners a welcome relief to his more formal ones.
“Townshend will be along tomorrow, I expect,” he said, taking a sip of brandy and reaching for one of the small sandwiches. He handed it to Mia, who consumed it in two bites. He looked up to find his sister viewing their interaction with slack-jawed amazement and his face tightened into the mask that had been his defense for almost a decade.
“This is perfect, Jessica. Thank you,” Mia said, finishing another small sandwich and smiling at his sister over the rim of her tea, unaware of the currents of shock eddying through the room.
Jessica nodded, dazed.
Adam suddenly realized he didn’t care if he appeared to be the fatuously happy idiot he was. He smiled at Jessica, shocking her even more.
“Have you set up the Olive Rooms, Jess?”
“Yes, I think you will like them much better than your old room. Both fireplaces burn without smoking, which is more than I can say for that appalling stack in your old chambers.” She sounded more normal as she warmed to her favorite topic: the castle.
Adam had not moved to the master suite after his father’s death, but the big group of interconnected rooms was the only one that would suit a married couple. The chambers were attached to an unusually large bathing chamber, which Adam hazarded was one of his ancestor’s attempts to mimic the old Roman baths occasionally found in the area. He believed Mia would enjoy it very much.
They spoke of castle matters while Mia consumed a shocking amount of food and several cups of tea, finally suppressing a giant yawn, her eyes sleepy.
“I take it you are ready to retire?”
“Yes, I’m afraid I’m dead on my feet,” Mia said, giving Jessica an apologetic smile.
Jessica stood. “Let me show you to your rooms.”
Adam, of course, knew the way, but he didn’t stop her. He knew how much she enjoyed showing the castle to people for the first time. Mia, especially, was an enthusiastic audience, cooing and remarking in all the right ways.
When Adam opened the door to his father’s old rooms he was stunned.
“Do you like it?” Jessica asked nervously.
“Very much. You must have worked quickly to have effected such a grand change in such a short time.” He smiled at her. “You have truly outdone yourself, Jess—it is quite magnificent.”
Jessica flushed with pleasure.
“But I’m not sure we can call it the Olive Rooms any longer. Where in the world did you find it all?” The room’s harsh stone walls were relieved by four enormous mullioned windows, a later addition to the castle. Tapestries and heavy drapes in gray and rose velvet softened the rather heavy room. Enormous furniture, built to fit the scale of the room, had been re-covered in plush velvets, the chairs and sofas overstuffed and softened to make up for their massive size.
“It’s lovely,” Mia said, reaching out to stroke the velvet arm of a sofa. Jessica couldn’t have chosen any better for his wife. The large cushions and ottomans scattered about were the kind of thing she loved. He wondered how his sister had guessed with such accuracy. He hadn’t given her much time, barely a month. The transformation was quite impressive.
Bedchambers sat off to either side of the giant sitting room, each with massive armoires as there were no traditional dressing rooms. Sayer and LaValle were already busy in their respective domains, hanging and organizing and fussing with the first round of their baggage.
After making sure they had everything they needed, Jessica bid them good night and left them together in the joint sitting area.
“It’s absolutely magnificent, Adam.” Mia leaned against him and wrapped her arm around his waist as she surveyed the room.
Adam took her chin and tipped her small face upward. “Yes,” he said, “it is.”
She laughed and buried her face in his coat. “Oh don’t, I must look a fright. I was burrowed into you like a forest creature in the carriage.”
“Yes, you do look a fright.” She hit him and buried her face deeper. “Luckily, I have just the thing. Come with me.” He took her hand and led her through his room, where he nodded his dismissal to Sayer, who left the remaining luggage and quietly took himself off to his usual room.
Adam opened the heavy arched door that led off his bedchamber, which Jessica had not shown during her brief tour.
“Close your eyes.” Mia complied and he led her inside. “You may open them.”
She gasped, her eyes wide as she looked about the room. She walked toward the square sunken tub that occupied one entire corner of the room. “Oh, Adam.” She looked up at him before leaning down to dip her finger in the water. “It’s hot! But how is that?” She stared at him as if he were a magician.
“It is no work of mine. An ancestor built it, using water that is heated naturally deep underground. He took his cue from the Romans, who had this kind of bath wherever such geology existed. I thought you might like it.”
She laid her hands against his chest, looking up at him in a way that did disconcerting things to his stomach. “Will you bathe with me, my lord?”
He released into his gaze all the hunger and lust he had been controlling since their truncated lovemaking earlier in the day. Her face flushed and her lids lowered as he pushed against her, forcing her to take a step back, and then another as he relentlessly advanced on her, not stopping until he’d pinned her against the hard stone wall of the bathing chamber.
“Unbutton me,” he told her, his voice harsh with need. Her deft hands worked fast to free him.
He pulled up the skirt of her traveling costume, his hand moving to what he knew would be waiting for him. She wore no drawers. He shook with desire as he delved into her curls and found the part of her that transformed her into something that was his alone.
Adam was not the only one who’d found the long carriage ride protracted foreplay. She was wet and ready and he was far too impatient to employ his usual teasing methods. While she was still shuddering with pleasure he grasped her bottom, lifted her against the wall, and slid into her, holding very still once he was seated. He braced himself, his feet spread shoulder-width apart, gaining control of himself. She moved restlessly above him, her hips grinding, wanting more.
He pulled back to look at her. Her eyes were hooded, her mouth slack and willful.
“So greedy.” He snuggled her tighter to his body as he worked himself deeper. “You’ve hardly finished one orgasm and you already want another. You’ll not come again until you’ve earned it,” he whispered, punctuating his words with a quick thrust of his hips.
She gasped.
“Did you enjoy teasing me today, my lady? I think you did,” he mused, again thrusting hard and quick, wanting her to know he was in complete control of her pleasure. “It amused you to think of me sitting behind you, hard with need for you. You enjoyed making me suffer.”
Thrust.
She whimpered, her lips parting as her breathing grew rougher.
Thrust.
“What was that, my dear? I couldn’t hear you?” He was almost mad with the effort of holding back.
Thrust.
Another whimper.
Thrust.
“You’ll have to speak up, my lady,”
Thrust.
“Please.”
“I beg your pardon, darling?”
Thrust.
“Please, Adam, more.” Her voice was barely a sigh.
Thrust.
“More? More what, my little tormenting devil? I should like to hear you beg.”
Thrust.
“Please, Adam, please make me come.” The last word was almost a sob and it was like a match to a powder keg.
When his climax came it stunned him. Wave after wave of pleasure pounded him. He was a piece of helpless flotsam, battered and carried along on the relentless flow until he was wrecked and spent, cast up on passion’s shore.
His legs shook and he wrapped one arm under Mia’s bottom, yanked up his fallen breeches with the other, and brought her to the long wooden bench where he gently lowered her before dropping down beside her.
Mia nuzzled beside him, lifting his arm and draping it over her shoulders as she burrowed into his side.
“Thank you, Adam. That was quite nice,” she purred, a smile in her voice as she stifled a giant yawn.
He barely had enough energy left for a weak laugh. “You will be the death of me.”
* * *
Adam was to remember those words many times during the coming weeks.
Not even when he’d been five and twenty and married to Veronica—who’d been more sexually voracious than most men—had he engaged in so frequent, enjoyable, or exhausting amours. But whereas Veronica had been bent on seeking pleasure, Mia was bent on giving it. Adam could not get enough of his new wife and the feeling was mutual.
He smiled to himself as he left the gun room and mounted the stairs up to the main level of the house, thinking about their lovemaking that morning—which had made him late for his meeting with Kearns, his steward.
It had pained him to leave her in bed. Her tangled hair and swollen lips erotic proof he’d used her hard, but the invitation in her eyes telling him she was ready for more.
Adam had never had a lover so eager or generous—or so openly joyous. She had no qualms about approaching him anytime or anywhere. He thought back to their last game of chess, which had ended—once again—with her supremely trouncing him. He had been forced to retaliate by bending her over the large desk in the library.
He could no longer see a chessboard without getting an erection.
She was so skilled at arousing him, he should have been embarrassed. Like a trained dog, he knew that whenever the words my lord came out of her wicked mouth she was either imagining their last coupling or planning the next. He paused
in the hallway to adjust himself, meeting the startled eyes of one of his footmen as he did so.
None of the servants could be unaware of what was taking place in their master’s chamber every night and morning. And in several other parts of the castle and grounds any other time of day. Adam didn’t care.
He entered the smaller of the castle’s two sitting rooms, pausing for a moment to take in the scene before him: three dark heads, one sandy blond, and a flame-red one bent over something on the table. Jessica, Catherine, Eva, Melissa, and Mia were so enraptured by whatever they were looking at, they didn’t notice his entrance.
Adam cleared his throat.
Five pairs of eyes swept up toward him.
“Papa, look what Mia brought.” His eldest daughter gestured to the item of interest.
Adam walked to the table and tilted his head. It was a fashion magazine, apparently in French.
“Hmm.” He looked at his wife with raised brows. “Do you have connections that run the Channel for you, my lady?”
Mia smiled but didn’t answer.
“Mia says we may have new frocks, Papa,” Eva said.
Adam eyed the dress she was currently wearing, a disaster, and felt a pained expression forming as he studied his middle child. Eva was, as always, an utter mess. She flushed under his critical examination, the mulish expression he knew so well forming on her face.
Mia caught his eye and gave a minute shake of her head.
Adam sighed and clamped his mouth shut. Mia didn’t need to speak; he could see the plea in her face and he’d heard all her arguments before. As recently as two days ago, in fact, when she’d come to his study to plead Eva’s case after a particularly unhappy clash between Adam and his daughter that morning in the stables.
Adam had been thrilled by her sudden appearance in his study and the interruption of his bill paying—until he’d learned the topic she had come to pursue yet again.
“You must not chide Eva so, Adam. She is a little careless of her apparel and she is perhaps sometimes a bit of a hoyden . . .”
Adam had cast down his quill and pushed aside his ledger, looking up at his wife as she stood before him, pleading his daughter’s case so passionately.
Dangerous Page 19
