Emeline’s eyes shut of their own accord as his warm breath hovered just over her lips, melting her fears away. It was erotic to have him whispering to her, kissing her, tempting her like this. Hell’s bells! This was pure seduction, no doubt about it!
Don’t forget, watch your language! Eve suddenly intoned in Emeline’s head. There are rules to follow and any form of swearing is one of them. Give this new life a try for a week. I promise you, you won’t regret it. Nor will you regret taking him for your husband. Go try that hunk of a delicious man on for size and see how he fits, Eve cackled.
“Yes,” she answered in a soft moan against his lips that made her feel embarrassed, but only momentarily. The idea of taking him to bed and having more than just a few kisses caused a rush of wanton desire in her. She felt his lips take hers in a slow, drawn out, leisurely kiss that seemed to indicate that he relished the taste of her as much as she enjoyed him.
He wasn’t embracing her, just holding her hand. His other hand was cupping her face tenderly as he kissed her. It was a full of promise. What started out as intense, finished leaving her wanting more from him beyond any imagining she had. When he broke the kiss, he lingered as if he didn’t want to stop. William gave her bottom lip a small, affectionate nip that made Emeline’s knees want to collapse.
The man could star in a porn flick and make millions, she thought idly as she stood with her eyes closed, savoring the taste of his lips for a moment. She found herself clutching his arm to keep herself upright. Eve’s laugh of approval made her grin shyly and bite her lip again.
You are going to have to give me some privacy if this man is to be my husband.
I’m glad you accept, Eve said with a knowing laugh.
I didn’t say that… yet.
I will give you a week, Titmouse. Enjoy him!
Emeline opened her eyes slowly and stared at his warm, pleased expression. He looked content at the outcome of their kiss, but not overly macho about it. He looked satisfied and wanting more. Good, no one liked a know it all, she thought.
“I’d like to show you the rest of the house, if you are up to it?” he asked huskily.
“Are you wanting to go to bed?” she asked bluntly, surprising herself and him. His warm eyes danced with mirth as he looked at her, stroking her cheek. Why did I ask that? You are jumping from the frying pan into the fire, aren’t you, Emmie?
“That single kiss promises bliss, but not a commitment. Are you wanting to be married now? Once you are mine and the marriage is consummated there is no turning back. You shall be my wife,” he said easily with a smile as he leaned down towards her again to capture her lips. This time, he lingered, savoring every moment, causing the protective walls around her to collapse.
She moaned and found herself leaning towards him as his tongue met hers. What would it be like to be able to touch him and have him touch her? If this was just a kiss, what would it be like making love? He pulled back, giving her space. It was like the tide coming in. An ebb and flow that broke down her defenses and made her want more.
“I really liked your kiss,” she admitted softly, staring at his warm expression and smiling eyes. There was something about him that called to her. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but being here felt right. It felt like the sun on her face, a chocolate sundae after a good cry, or a fresh towel out of the dryer on a cold day. Something in his presence felt deliciously good deep down in her soul and the kiss was a sampling of what was to come.
“I’m glad of that. But that isn’t a ‘yes’,” he prompted softly. “I believe in forever. So, I need to be certain this is what you desire, Emeline. I would have your words, your commitment if we are to exchange our vows.”
“Yes.”
“Yes,” he repeated firmly with a warm, tender smile. William took her other hand in his. He held both her hands to his chest, just above where his heart was she noted. “Emeline, I promise to be faithful, true and honest with you so long as I live and willingly become your husband.”
This, is it? she thought unimpressed. No church, no fancy dress?
Hola! Eve popping in! Fair warning! Emeline grinned at the sudden announcement in her head. Think 1770. Don’t be ungrateful, Titmouse. There’s no caterer or wedding planners yet! There wasn’t a big whopping demand for elaborate church ceremonies. The blacksmith officiated or you simply exchanged vows. Go with it! Notice that he didn’t say obey either… plus one for our colonial!
“I, Emeline Hastings Spencer,” she said with enunciation on the last name, making his smile widen with pride. She liked that. This handsome stranger, the person chosen by the mystical Eve for her, seemed so proud for her to have his name. With each word she spoke, it felt more right. That being here was where she was supposed to be all along. “I promise to be faithful, true and honest with you so long as I live and willingly become your wife.”
He pulled her hand up to his, kissing her knuckles happily, making his golden eyes twinkle. “Come wife, let me show you our room.”
Oh, dear Lord, she thought faintly.
Language! Eve reminded her.
Privacy, Woman! she quipped, only to hear Eve laugh aloud knowingly.
Chapter 5
Emeline allowed herself to be led over towards the far side of the house where the narrow stairs lay. It was daunting to see how steep a rise they had. It was like marching almost in order to climb up them, but his long legs seemed to have no problems. As if he read her mind, she saw him look over his shoulder down towards where she was with a smile.
“I can build a better staircase. I simply needed to get this done quickly and used what I had at the time,” he explained, looking sheepish. “I normally put a lot of thought into my work. But when I got behind still building the house, it was a matter of completing it quickly.”
“Oh, I am fine,” she said quickly, protesting and trying to keep from staring at his rear end as he went up the stairs ahead of her. Honestly, the darned stairs were a hazard for anyone under six feet tall and she didn’t know why they were so darned steep! Maybe that would be something they would tackle in the future, if she had one here.
Give it a week Eve said, she remembered, feeling suddenly guilty. If she was here for only a week, could she just throw in the towel? Living as man and wife for a week? What if she got some sort of disease or ended up pregnant? You never knew!
Expecting Eve to pop into her head, she was a bit scared by the lack of response and the silence. Was she really trapped here in 1770? Not trapped, relocated! she reminded herself, using Eve’s term trying to keep from becoming hysterical. Once she reached the top of the narrow stairs, she was dismayed to see that it opened directly into a large room.
William offered his hand out towards her to help her up the final step. She felt his palm take hers, so warm and so very strong. It had comforted her momentarily until she saw the bed. Apparently, the home tour was ending in his bedroom. The handfasting between them was getting surreal, fast! Breaking their contact between them, she stepped backwards placing her hand over her heart in an effort to calm it down.
“Well this is really, uh… personal. I can see exactly why you wanted to wait to bring me up here,” she admitted quickly, seeing the carved bed in the corner. Cause I’d freakin’ run! “You really like carving and decorating, don’t you?”
“You don’t like it?”
“No, it’s a gorgeous, big ol’ sexy bed,” she whispered nervously, taking a step back. “And it’s apparent you have an eye for details, too.” Lame. That was a lame attempt to get away from the pink elephant in the room. That bed was made for sex and you know it, she thought wildly. Her breath hitching as she pictured all sorts of intimacies in her mind.
“Yes,” he said gently, laying his hand on her cheek. “And you look terrified.”
“I’m a little nervous,” she admitted, jumping at his sudden bark of laughter. “A lot nervous, actually.”
“Little bride,” he whispered with a soft smile. He caressed her cheek tend
erly in a way that made her catch her breath. His golden eyes were mesmerizing and enthralling. “You are safe with me. We’ll not share a marriage bed until you are ready and want me,” he offered.
“Where will you sleep?” she asked nervously. The way he looked at her was incredibly intimate, like he could see right into her mind and the outrageous things that were popping into it. Do they have chocolate sauce here cause, mmmm yeah! I could seriously lick it right off his body! she laughed to herself, gulping hard and breaking eye contact. What is wrong with me?
“With you,” he responded, his voice husky. Don’t look at him! You are getting sucked right in! It’s like he is emitting some sort of voodoo sex pheromones! Eve? Is that what this is? You are a voodoo queen and he is drugging me with some manly mojo?
“But… eh-hem,” she stammered blankly, thinking of how decadent that voice would be if he was a talker in bed. That sexy voice and his laughter made her weak at the knees. She had never been so completely fascinated by a guy like she was with him. Maybe it was in the ale? “Was there something in the ale we had? I’m a feeling a bit, ah, overheated?”
It’s the drink! Maybe alcohol brewed here was really strong. She felt really tipsy. The Coronas on the beach and the ale might not have mixed. “Liquor is quicker” was the old saying and maybe that was wrong! Perhaps it was a residue in the cups. Long-time exposure to pewter messes with people’s heads. Maybe there is something here that is an aphrodisiac that was slipped in her drink.
“There is one bed. We may sleep together without sharing our bodies, that is. Unless you can’t keep yourself from me?” he teased lightly. His voice flowed over her like melted butter. His hand reached out to touch her shoulder and she practically leaped backwards away from him, almost tripping on her own feet.
“I think it will be vice versa,” Emeline retorted and then blushed as she realized that she was all but inviting him to touch her. There was no way she was instigating anything yet between them. She was nervous as hell! The idea of some stranger, even if he looked dreamy, taking her to bed for the first time made her antsy. This wasn’t like her! She didn’t think of licking pecs every five seconds! Drugs, girl! It’s gotta be drugs!
“We shall see,” he countered with a knowing smile that made her knees buckle under her.
Looking around the room, Emeline avoided looking at the large bed that screamed sex in her mind. She imagined being tied to all four posts and wondered if it would shock him. The idea of being touched for hours on end by his warm hands was practically making her want to pant.
“Seriously, is it hot in here?” she stammered, fanning herself. She felt the need to open the windows to let in the cold night air. Look away! Anywhere but at him!
Doing so, she instead she saw the small dressing table with a pitcher and basin on it. A bible lay on the corner, as well as a comb. There was a small chair underneath the table and as a large rocker in the corner of room. A long blanket chest was underneath a paned window that ran along the far wall. The fireplace downstairs apparently carried its way up through the room, causing it to be tidy and overly warm. A small fire was burning in the bedroom giving off a soft glow. She noticed that she could see the moon in the night sky. It felt like it could be peaceful here, if it wasn’t such a strange situation, location and time.
“Your things are in the dressing table and chest. Would you like a drink before bed?” he asked politely.
A dirty martini or any other hard liquors? Xanax? Anything? “No, but I would like a moment of privacy,” she replied, mortified at the realization that all modern conveniences were gone. Every. single. one! Going to the bathroom meant using that awful bedpan peeking out from under the bed. Cause I’m guessing the plumber is a little late, by oh, two hundred and twenty years, to put in the new toilet for me!
“Of course,” he responded with a nod of his head. Turning, he headed back down the narrow stairs easily like they were nothing. She stood silently for a moment, listening till he made it down to the bottom. She smiled wistfully as she heard him humming a soft tune as the notes carried up the stairs. Shaking her head, she realized she was standing there acting like a lovesick idiot while time was whittling away. Distracted by the sudden, unexpected reveal that William must like to hum while he kept busy threw her for a loop. Happy people did that, and she liked the fact that he seemed very pleased. That’s kinda sweet that he hums to himself, she thought.
Emeline yanked the bedpan out from under the bed with force before she realized it could have been used before she put her hands on it. She thanked her lucky stars it was clean. Looking around to ensure she was still alone, she realized there was nowhere to empty it other than the window.
“Yeesh!” she muttered aloud. Using the bedpan quickly before William returned, she opened the window flinging the contents outside. I’m gonna have to remember that when I walk around town. If I get someone’s mess dumped on me, I’d freak! Emeline could only imagine how history books would portray her: Young Boston woman has excrement fall upon her and promptly ransacks house only to throw person from upper window. She slid the bedpan back under the bed and stood. Yeah, that wouldn’t go over so well at all. Pouring water from the pitcher into the washbasin on the dresser, she washed herself and winced as reality was hitting her hard.
No baths, no potties, no toiletries! This was going to be a serious change but it was the only one open to her at the time. Going back meant becoming a water-logged corpse and that held no appeal whatsoever! The crushing pain as her lungs struggled against the saltwater would scar her for life! Shivering at the memory, she rubbed her arms as goosebumps appeared. Yeah, drowning sucks. She doubted she would ever voluntarily enter deep waters ever again. Ocean, lake, whatevs… not happening!
Maybe I could pretend I’m asleep just until I get this all figured out? She needed to think and come up with options or a secondary plan. Being abruptly married, uh, handfasted already felt so weird to her.
Emeline was in the process of trying to remove her gown so she could fake slumber when she heard William call up to her. The laces were completely out of reach and frustrated the hell out of her. She was trying to get changed in order to be under the quilt to hide before he reappeared. Stretching her right arm over her shoulder, she could feel the tie. Unfortunately, her body would not contort any farther allowing her to grasp it. Come on, Eve! Throw me a bone, here. Yanking desperately, she found it would not budge.
“May I return?” he asked from nearby.
“Yes,” No! But I can’t get out of the dress alone so whatever, she thought. At least he was nice enough to wait and ask permission first. She had, at first, thought to keep the gown on as a line of defense between them. However, catching her breath seemed to be extremely difficult when he was around and she attuned it to the tight bodice.
“Did you want to change?” he asked politely, as he walked into the room.
“I thought I would get comfortable but it’s cold, so I will just sleep in my dress,” Emeline announced with a false cheerfulness. The idea of him undressing her was unnerving and made her body thrum with desire. She was positive that her panties would be wet, if she had any on! Stupid fashion trend made her feel completely shameful!
“Let me help you,” he offered.
“No, seriously. It’s okay,” she protested faintly. She was picturing all sorts of dirty deeds in her mind that involved slowly unlacing her. Yikes!
“Emeline, you cannot sleep in your stays,” he countered gently. “You won’t rest. Sleep in your shift if you are concerned about your modesty. I can blow out the candles, as well.”
“Well, I can’t get in or out of this yet by myself.” And I don’t know if I should let you do this. I might attack your deliciousness because I am obviously out of my damned mind! Do colonials like to have some fun in bed or are you a missionary position kinda of guy? Why do I care? she wondered in amazement, practically panting at the idea. Oh my gosh, I am wicked attracted to him!
“I will help you
and be your ladies’ maid,” William teased softly, placing his hands on her waist and turning her around. “Most willingly.”
She grabbed the post of the bed as he pulled the ties on the back of her dress, reminding her yet again of things that weren’t invented yet. Zippers, buttons, Velcro, blue jeans, the mental list went on and on as she waited patiently, staring at her hands gripping the carved bedpost. Every tug or pull of the lace was sensual and she had to restrain herself from groaning aloud. Coming out of this corset must be what a butterfly feels like coming out of a cocoon. Once free, she hesitated, feeling extremely exposed.
“Could you turn around please, William?” she asked quietly, looking over her shoulder. Seeing the naked heat in his eyes, she thought for a moment he wouldn’t move. But then, he turned away from her as she asked. Her relief was instant. If she could trust him in this, perhaps, she could rely on him as he said. Pulling herself from her dress, she carefully hung it on one of the pegs beside the bed. She heard rustling behind her and turned, curious at the sound.
William was removing his own clothing with his back to her. He pulled the shirt off over his head, exposing his strong back. Those muscles had been developed over the years from hard work and repeated movements.
Sweet mercy! she thought. Emeline stared, transfixed, as she saw him remove his breeches and swallowed hard as his naked body suddenly made the large room feel oh so small. Glancing up, she saw his reflection in a small, cloudy mirror on the armoire. Neither said a word, simply staring at each other.
“Emeline,” he said thickly. “If I am not to touch you, you are going to have to stop looking at me like that.”
“I am sorry, I didn’t realize you were changing,” she stammered in a voice she didn’t recognize. His body was gorgeous and would be burned in her memory. She was certain that she would be dreaming of him or picturing him over and over again.
Handfasted to You Page 6
