Both of his hands cupped her face. “I’ve poured out my very soul simply to say that while your brother offered me my first glimpse of freedom, you’ve been my Mount Olympus, the place I’ve tried to get.” His voice lowered. “My dream come true. My haven.”
“Ashwick,” Lorena sighed.
“I want you naked,” he growled.
Every hair on her body stood at attention.
“Ashwick!”
“I want you, Lorena,” he groaned. “Need you.”
She shivered.
Their eyes locked.
“Kiss me.”
She obeyed.
The moment their mouths touched, her body felt as though it had found its own haven. In him.
“God, yes,” he whispered in her mouth. “It has been too long.”
She agreed.
His hand slipped under her bottom, gathered up her skirts, and he picked her up.
Her arms and legs went around him to keep upright. Then she felt him move and her back hit a wall. His powerful body settled into hers.
“Lorena,” he groaned as his lips trailed from her mouth and down her cheek and neck. “I feel like I’ll die if I don’t have you.” He sounded in pain.
She felt pain, too. Between her legs. She ached so badly she wanted to cry. His hips moved closer, rocked up, and she threw her head back and cried.
His head came up and he stared into her eyes. His eyes had darkened to a metallic gray. “I need you, my love.”
He rocked again and Lorena’s whole body trembled. The pain started to ease and a sweet heat took over.
“Ashwick,” she whispered, begging, urging him to never stop. “What…” She didn’t even know what to say. She didn’t know how to form the words. Everything felt so good. Her body seemed to vibrate from the pleasure.
His grip on her tightened, and his hips continued their rhythm. “You like that?”
“Yes.” The word was almost forced from her lungs. She didn’t want to talk. She needed her lungs to breathe. She simply wanted to feel.
His rhythm grew faster.
Lorena’s hands went to the back of his neck and she held on. Her body tightened and she started to move against him, as if racing to something. She had no clue where she was going but her body seemed to want it all the same. “Ashwick,” she choked.
His voice was her undoing. “Come for me, my love.”
Lorena squeezed her eyes tighter and all her senses heightened before she felt what could only be called a release. She cried Ashwick’s name.
When she’d finally finished sometime later, she collapsed on him and let Ashwick hold all her weight. She was too tired to hold on. Her head fell to his shoulder and her arms at her sides. She’d never been so exhausted in her life.
“Lorena,” he whispered.
She knew she made a noise but had no idea what it could have been.
He chuckled and slowly lowered her to her feet. Then, still holding her, he rubbed his nose against her and said, “You’re mine.”
Her previously sedated body woke again and she lifted her eyes to his.
He was smiling, light seeming to come from his eyes, and he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You’re leaving?” she asked quickly. Her hands returned to his jacket. She didn’t want him to leave.
He touched her nose with his finger and said, “I must. I’m in need of new breeches.”
She started to glance down, but his finger moved under her chin, and she was forced to meet his eyes again.
“We’ll go for a ride in the park tomorrow,” he guessed.
Actually, to Lorena’s ears, it sounded very much like a demand.
But she wanted to go nonetheless.
“All right,” she whispered, smiling.
He touched her nose again and headed for the hedges that divided her townhouse from her brother’s.
“Where are you going?” she asked him.
He paused at a break that had started to grow in the wilting plants and pushed his way through.
Lorena was so surprised she didn’t speak until he was completely gone. “What are you doing?” she asked him again. “That’s my brother’s house.”
“I know,” he shouted in return. “I’m staying here.” Then he added, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She could hear the smile on his lips.
Then she smiled again and rushed back into the house.
* * *
Lorena allowed her aunt to talk her and Genie into dinner at the home of one of her friends, but Aunt Matilda held out on the detail of the acquaintance’s name until they were at the door. Lorena had been in a daze since the moment that Ashwick…
She sighed.
She couldn’t even get through a thought without the most intimate parts of her body starting to hum. When he’d left, Lorena hadn’t cared what anyone had said. She’d wanted to be left alone to her thoughts and to simply bask in the memory of what it felt like to be in his arms. She was pretty sure that whatever they’d done was improper and even thought it was a good idea to ask her aunt if she could be with child. She had no idea what had transpired between her and Ashwick, but she knew that whatever it was, it was something that should not take place in dying gardens, much less while the sun was still in the sky.
What she did with Ashwick made her feel… feminine and slightly impish. Or rather… very impish.
She couldn’t stop thinking about him. She didn’t want to. What she wanted was to find him and have him do whatever he’d done to her again and again. It had been the most amazing experience of her life. She wondered if it had been just as amazing for him. Did he want to do it again? He’d run away pretty quickly. He’d spoken of changing his pants, which she’d thought not a very good reason.
She thought about being upset, but then remembered all the sweet and wonderful things he’d said to her before he’d made her convulse against him. He’d called her his haven. His Mount Olympus. Men didn’t usually leave the women they expressed such tender sentiments to, did they?
She did recall the maid at her family’s estate.
“Lorena,” Aunt Matilda called from the other side of the table. “You’re being very rude.”
Lorena moved her head and met the eyes of their host.
The friend Aunt Tilda had been speaking of was none other than the infamous Mr. Taylor from Tailor and Taylor.
His house was grand and beautiful but seemed to be mildly decorated in a sheer effort to make sure everyone took notice of what mattered.
Him.
And he was beautiful.
Dangerously so.
He had green eyes, black hair that was graying on the sides, and wore a suit almost as well as Ashwick. Perhaps even better than Ashwick, though she feared thinking such a thing was a betrayal to the man she loved.
And yes, she was very much in love with him.
But what Lorena was truly trying to distract herself from was Miss Sophia Taylor, an even more infamous woman at the moment, since she’d been the one to write about Lorena in the paper that morning. A story that Lorena had not given the woman permission to use.
Sophia was just as beautiful as her father was handsome and had the same devious glint in her green eyes.
From what Lorena knew of him, Mr. Taylor was the second son to the Viscount of Dovehaven, but spent an equal amount of time in the circles of the demi monde as he did the ton. Sophia, however, had been called a mystery. Most of the time, one didn’t know she was there.
And while part of Lorena was upset that the woman had overheard her conversation to Genie, she didn’t mind that the truth had gotten out. She had no plans to marry.
Unless, of course, Ashwick asked and…
“Lorena!” her aunt cried.
Lorena’s cheeks pinked and she said, “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She reached for her wine and took a deep sip. She needed to concentrate on something besides her body, though it was hard to ignore the ache in her inner thighs. Was this usual?
“
My word,” Aunt Tilda said.
Lorena looked at her and then at Mr. Taylor.
He was laughing and then leaned forward at the table and said in a smooth voice, “Tilda, love. Calm yourself.” His green, devilish eyes stayed on Lorena. “The girl’s thoughts are obviously somewhere else tonight.” Then he was speaking to her. “Tell me, my dear. Is it a man who occupies your thoughts?”
Sophia’s eyes widened and she leaned forward. “Oh, do tell.”
Lorena felt her blush spread to her neck. Sophia was the last woman she wished to know anything.
Mr. Taylor chuckled again and said, “God, that shade of pink… It’s inspiring.” His eyes narrowed as he watched her.
Lorena’s cheeks stung even more.
“I’d like to undress you,” Mr. Taylor told her boldly.
“Taylor,” her aunt cried.
“Father,” Sophia cried in mock dismay.
Lorena stopped breathing.
“And then redress you,” he added with a grin.
Sophia laughed and winked at Lorena.
“Oh,” Aunt Tilda said with a smile, reaching for her own cup of wine. “I was hoping you would.”
Lorena’s gaze moved to her aunt. “Is that why we’re here?” Lorena did not have money for new clothes.
Her aunt said plainly, “You’ve not had a new gown since your parents’ death, and gray does not become you, dear.”
Lorena stared down at her dress, then looked at her aunt. “My parents died almost exactly a year ago.” Her voice trembled. “I…” She could say no more without bursting into tears. They were already building in her eyes. It happened every time she spoke of it.
She closed her eyes and cursed in her mind. Today had been the first day she’d only cried once. She didn’t want to end the day in tears. Ashwick had made it beautiful. She focused on Ashwick.
“Lorena,” her aunt called.
Lorena opened her eyes and looked at Aunt Tilda, seeing pain in her aunt’s eyes.
“Constance would hate to see you in gray.”
This was true. Her mother had been radiant and had wanted everything around her to be just as beautiful.
Lorena looked at Sophia and noted a hint of sadness there, but she said nothing.
Aunt Tilda turned to Mr. Taylor. “She went to her very first event last night. It was a party at Lord Ashwick’s home and my niece decided to wear gray.” She stressed the ‘my’ as though Lorena’s gray was an offense to the woman herself. “Today, he could barely keep his eyes from her, openly staring at my niece as though she were the last fish in the pond and he’d die if he didn’t catch her. However, if she’d been in another color, I’m sure she’d have received a proposal.”
“That’s not true,” Lorena said. Then, to Sophia, she said desperately, “Please, do not put that in the papers.”
Sophia only grinned.
“What isn’t true?” Genie was staring between them all with fascination.
“Lord Ashwick was not staring at me,” she said. In fact, she clearly remembered moments when he’d not been looking at her at all. Her aunt was being dramatic. And a proposal. Ashwick’s only proposal had been for her to warm his bed.
She felt a touch of shame creep into her, knowing it would most likely be all he offered, and her willingness to allow it. She had no dowry. No man wanted a penniless bride. Or a bride who burned his townhouse to the ground. And threw tea on him. And stabbed him with a toga pin.
It was hopeless.
“Carmine,” Taylor declared.
Aunt Tilda blinked at him. “Who?”
“It’s a shade of red,” he said, now staring at Lorena. “It’s a deep red. It would look lovely on her.”
“She can’t wear deep red,” Tilda said. “She can’t wear any deep colors. She’s not married.”
“I wear red,” Sophia said, as though it explained everything.
“I read the paper,” Mr. Taylor said with a smile that touched his green eyes as he leaned forward. “She’s declared herself a spinster. She no longer needs to wear lily white colors.” He frowned at the thought. “I would usually hate to dress a virgin, but you?” He grinned again before leaning back in his chair. “In my hands, you’d be the most sought-after spinster of the ton. Think of all the men you could have at your feet?”
Aunt Tilda gasped.
Genie made a happy sound.
Maura smiled but kept her head lowered in an effort to hide it.
Sophia only grinned as though she’d heard her father’s rambling before.
Mr. Taylor sucked his teeth and said, “If only there were more women like you. So bold. Such a shame.”
“Indeed,” Sophia agreed. “Then I might have more friends.”
“I’ll be a spinster,” Genie declared, brightly. “If Francis doesn’t marry me, I’ll never marry.”
Lorena looked at her friend and said, “Don’t say such a thing.”
“Why not?” Genie asked, turning to her. She was no longer smiling. “It’s true,” she declared. “I’ll never marry if Francis won’t have me, because I’ll never love anyone as much as I love him.”
Lorena reached over and took Genie’s hand. “He’ll marry you.”
Genie seemed to be barely holding herself together, but then in a blink, she was smiling again and she said, “Then he'd better do it soon, because I won’t wait forever.”
“My, oh, my,” Taylor said, beckoning their attention back to him. “Such spirit.” He was staring at Genie now. “Who is this Francis?”
“His Grace, the Duke of Valdeston,” Aunt Tilda offered.
Sophia gasped and stared at Genie. “Does Valdeston know?”
Genie nodded. “He’s known for at least the last nine years.”
Sophia’s eyes softened.
“He’d be a fool not to marry you,” Mr. Taylor said.
“Where is your wife, Mr. Taylor?” Lorena decided to ask Mr. Taylor.
“I’m not married, dear,” Mr. Taylor said, sliding his eyes over to her. “If I married a woman, I would wish to be faithful to her. At the moment, I only wish to be faithful to myself and Sophia, of course.” Lorena grew warm again.
Sophia smiled and Lorena wondered how the woman had come to be. Her father had never married, yet the resemblance between them could not be missed. Mr. Taylor looked close to forty, which meant he’d been very young when he’d given life to Sophia. Sophia looked to be close to Lorena’s age. She wondered why Sophia had decided against marrying, as her earlier statement had implied.
He grinned at her and turned his eyes on Maura. “And you, my dear? Do you plan to marry?”
Maura’s pale lips parted and her blue eyes showed just how stunned she was by the question. “Me?”
“Yes,” Mr. Taylor said, leaning toward her. “Any hopes of a man waiting for you at the other end of a chapel?”
Maura shook her head. “I’m insane,” she said so quietly that everyone had to strain in order to hear.
Aunt Tilda placed a hand on top of her daughter’s and seemed confused about what to say.
Mr. Taylor lifted a brow and smiled wider than he had all night. Then he laughed and said, “Maura, my inspiration. I think I’m bloody well in love.”
“Father, she’s half your age,” Sophia reminded him, though she didn’t seem too outraged by her father’s claim. Dinner with the Taylors was the oddest event of Lorena’s life… and she’d burned down the house of the earl.
Maura’s eyes got wider and she said, “You can’t love me.”
“Oh, but I do,” he cried. Then he pointed at her. “You! I shall dress you as well.” Then he looked at every lady at the table and said, “I’ll dress you all. You’ll be my muses. I’m getting a revelation.”
Aunt Tilda brightened at that. “It’s always good when he gets a revelation.”
“I have the feeling I’ll need paper for this,” Sophia declared.
“You’ll be…” Mr. Taylor paused and grinned, “a society of provocative spinst
ers.” Then he cut his eyes to Tilda and said, “Of course not you, love. You’re married.”
Aunt Tilda smiled, proving that she was not offended. She’d come to clothe Lorena but had also clothed Maura in the process.
Lorena cleared her throat and said, “How much will your revelation cost?” She knew money was not something to be discussed in public, but as Aunt Tilda had pointed out, the ton had not given one shilling toward her livelihood.
“Cost?” Mr. Taylor asked. His smile vanished. “Revelation has no fare, love. You simply get on and let it take you wherever it may go.”
Lorena blinked, not understanding anything of what he said. While growing up, she’d learned that everything had a price. She, however, had never met an artist. Such things, unless the artist happened to be a part of the peerage, could be seen as very… risqué. Lorena was quite sure if word got out that she’d had dinner with Mr. Taylor himself, there would be a scandal. The man was every bit of scandalous as she’d been warned. It was no wonder her aunt hadn’t told her just whose home they would be visiting.
“The Seductive Spinster’s Society,” Taylor declared.
“Oh,” Aunt Tilda said. And this was all she said.
Sophia pulled in a breath and said, “I want to join.” She looked wide-eyed at Lorena.
Lorena’s eyes widened. “No.” She shook her head at Mr. Taylor. “No, to all of it.”
“I love it,” Genie said.
Maura only grinned, proving that she had more of her mother in her than she let on.
“I’ll need measurements,” Mr. Taylor said. “You’ll be my walking displays.”
Sophia clapped and grinned.
Lorena shook her head. “No.”
Genie said, “If we’re a Society, we’ll need to create rules.” Her eyes were on Sophia, completely ignoring her.
Sophia nodded. “Oh, yes. Let us meet tomorrow and discuss.”
“Yes. Let’s,” Genie cried.
“No,” Lorena said again.
“At Lorena’s house,” Genie went on.
Mr. Taylor turned to Tilda and said, “I’ll need to come by tomorrow as well. This could take the entire day. I’ll have to cancel all my other clients for this.”
Had anyone heard a word Lorena spoke?
Apparently not. The entire table began to speak around her, completely ignoring her.
Lady Lorena’s Spinster’s Society ( The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 9
