His fingers spreading deliciously through her hair, he brought her face down to his and kissed her, his mouth brushing against hers in a tender, erotic caress. And when she responded eagerly, Rayne drew her down fully against him, pulling her into the hard strength of his body.
The warmth of his naked flesh beneath hers was another exquisite shock of sensation, as was the taste of his lips. Madeline shut her eyes, cherishing the feelings that were racing through her … at the same time acknowledging the danger. This mad rush of emotions Rayne was stirring in—all the heat and want and yearning—would only make him harder to resist.
Yet she didn’t have the will to fight it, not when he tenderly eased her onto her back and took complete control of her seduction.
He began by kissing the hollow of her throat, then nuzzling his face in the valley between her breasts. Next he suckled each of her nipples in turn, gently nipping and rasping.
His mouth was hot and sweet and demanding as he attended to the rest of her body. Eventually his stroking hands joined in her arousal, caressing her with the probing eroticism of an expert lover, lingering and taking his time, as if her pleasure was his only pleasure.
Her thighs were trembling when at last his thumb found the curls of her woman’s mound and glided downward to her slick, sensitive folds. And when he penetrated her throbbing sex with a slow finger, Madeline arched her back wildly.
“Easy, now,” Rayne murmured.
She couldn’t be easy, though. She ached with the way he touched her. His lovemaking felt excruciatingly right—a drawn-out seduction by a man determined to shatter every part of her.
Yet he wasn’t entirely satisfied by his progress, it seemed.
“Give me your mouth, love.”
His roughly sensual voice came to her through her daze, merging with the pleasure vibrating through her body in heated waves.
Wishing desperately that Rayne would take away the ache he’d created in her, Madeline obeyed, raising her face to his. His kiss was hot and bold and thrilling, a spellbinding connection of lips and tongues. When she whimpered with need, his mouth turned even more forceful, yet still remained tender beneath the urgency.
Madeline welcomed his ardor. For this wonderful moment, she was living her most secret fantasy—that Rayne wanted her, loved her.
The scent of him was all around her, and so was his enveloping tenderness as he eased his thighs between hers and covered her body. The heavy, strange-but-familiar weight warmed her … but then his hard flesh slowly, slowly sank inside her.
With his caressing mouth, he drank her gasp of surprise at the burgeoning pressure, soothing her open lips with featherlight kisses. But when he was seated fully in the cradle of her thighs, irrevocably joined to her, Rayne held himself still.
Her breath came in soft pants while her body grew accustomed to the alien hardness impaling her.
Long moments later he broke off his comforting kisses and lifted his head to scrutinize her face. “Are you all right?”
“Yes….” she answered truthfully, feeling the pressure ease as her feminine flesh began to soften and melt around him. “You didn’t hurt me.”
Something protective and fierce flashed deep in his eyes. “Good. It will only get better from now on, I promise.”
I believe you, she thought, gazing up into the dark beauty of his face.
The hushed quiet was broken by the crackle of the fire and the erratic thud of her own heartbeat as Rayne carefully began to move inside her. Holding her captive with the intensity of his blue gaze, he slowly withdrew, only to thrust again even more slowly … rising and sinking into her heated wetness with a mesmerizing rhythm, guiding her response with his hand on her hip.
Madeline felt a sob rise up in her throat as too many emotions welled inside her. She had never felt this treasured, this desired. She had never yearned this much. Rayne made her want him more than she wanted to breathe.
This sort of wanting shouldn’t be possible, this burning need to be one with him.
And then the firelight blurred as she trembled uncontrollably. She was only aware of Rayne, of his heat, of his masculine scent, of the way he filled her aching emptiness.
When the cresting wave of passion broke over her, her hips rocked violently in cadence with her cries of ecstasy.
Rayne felt the same violent explosion of pleasure moments later. His body clenched, then shuddered as he came, intense tremors of sensation flooding every part of him.
When finally he quieted, Madeline was still pulsating around him, her breasts rising and falling unevenly with her ragged breaths. Struggling harshly for air himself, Rayne lowered himself weakly to his elbows, sheltering her in a possessive embrace while burying his face in the fragrant silk of her hair.
It was several long moments more before he could find the energy to raise his head—and he suspected Madeline felt a similar blissful lethargy. When he pressed a tender kiss to her damp forehead, she slowly opened her eyes.
Her expression held warmth now, not wariness, and the soft, sated look in her luminous eyes was enchanting.
“I must say,” she whispered hoarsely, “that you kept your promise. No wonder you are so fond of lovemaking.”
Delight shivered through him, part laughter, part desire. “I was happy to oblige, love.”
Carefully withdrawing from the sweet haven of her body, Rayne eased onto his side, then rolled onto his back, drawing Madeline against him so that her head rested on his shoulder.
Her feminine curves aligned perfectly with his harder ones, he noted, breathing her in. When she gave a contented sigh, Rayne acknowledged his own momentary contentment. How right it felt to hold her like this.
Admittedly, he ought to be worried. He had never savored a lover’s pleasure so much before. And of all the women he’d bedded, none of them had moved him as much as Madeline had tonight.
A dangerous sentiment, Rayne thought, as his fingers absently stroked the slender stem of her neck beneath her hair.
It wasn’t surprising that he felt a fierce protectiveness for Madeline. Or that he’d wanted to banish her insecurities about her desirability. Or that he was keenly, painfully aroused by her potent sensuality. He had been right about her passionate nature. Her alluring, utterly feminine body was pure temptation, a man’s private fantasy. The desire to make love to her again was still stinging him.
Shifting his head slightly, Rayne gazed down at her face. By any conventional standards, Madeline was not beautiful or even particularly pretty. But the golden firelight made her so just now. In the rosy aftermath of passion, she looked well and thoroughly bedded … her skin flushed and soft, her smooth hair gleaming in the light cast by the dancing flames.
Something primal tugged again deep in the pit of his belly—and that was before her eyelids fluttered open and she met his gaze, her big, gray eyes drowsy and replete.
Indeed, she was glowing.
Rayne frowned at the realization, remembering Madeline’s stated desire to find love in marriage. If he wasn’t careful, she might grow too enamored of him. He didn’t want to raise her expectations or allow her to think he would ever feel anything deeper for her than friendly affection.
He had not given anyone access to his heart for a very long time, and he would never do so again.
At the shy, tender smile Madeline gave him, however, Rayne felt the rare clutch of his heart. His unconscious response should be a warning to him, he reminded himself. It was a mistake to encourage any more intimacy between them. Even now he might already have let it grow too strong.
He couldn’t deny, either, that during the enchanting moments when he’d claimed Madeline as his wife, long-dormant emotions and desires had swelled and surged to life within him. Joining with her tonight in their marriage bed was like filling a space in him that had been empty for too long.
Yet he intended to rely on his new professional challenges to fill the void in his life. He’d already begun calculating his first steps and written
to Will Stokes to gain his collaboration. In fact, he planned to meet with his former fellow spy early tomorrow morning. If anyone could help him infiltrate a ring bent on assassinating the Regent, it was Will, Rayne reflected.
He wouldn’t share the details of his plans with Madeline, though, other than to tell her he had business that needed his attention. Knowing her, she would ask to help him, and he didn’t want her interfering, or worse, coming to harm.
Rayne quelled a faint smile at the thought. No, Madeline was not the dutiful wife he had once sought. Moreover, he had a strong suspicion that she would prove much more than he’d bargained for.
Still, he was glad to have chosen her. As for the future of their marriage, he would promise her fidelity, certainly. Since meeting her, he hadn’t wanted any other woman and doubted he would anytime soon. But he intended for them to have separate bedchambers and separate beds. And except for conjugal visits, he meant to keep his hands off his new wife. He was determined to curb his lust for her, for he wanted no repeat of his disastrous love affair with Camille Juzet.
Madeline was a hidden treasure, with her innocence and wit and spirited warmth, but he needed to crush any excess tenderness he felt for her.
Just then she surprised him. Reaching for his hand, she placed her mouth against the heart of his palm, making his actual heart lurch again.
It was time to leave, Rayne decided. He had meant to stay until dawn, until he had satiated himself with her body and brought out all the hidden sensuality he knew was waiting to break free inside Madeline. There was also the matter of siring an heir. But there would be opportunities later to work on fulfilling his promise to his grandmother.
Easing his shoulder from beneath Madeline’s head, Rayne sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Rising, he went to the washstand and cleaned himself with a wet cloth, then returned to Madeline and did the same for her.
Her flush revealed her shyness, so for both their sakes, he kept his movements brief and un-loverlike.
Carrying the cloth back to the washstand, Rayne proceeded to pull on his breeches, remarking casually as he did so, “I have business in London first thing tomorrow morning, so I will take my leave of you now.”
Madeline had been watching him dress, but at his pronouncement, her head snapped up.
“You won’t stay with me tonight?” she asked, her voice hesitant and faintly bewildered.
“I don’t want to disturb your sleep when I must rise so early.”
Her eyes were huge and bright as she regarded him steadily. She looked almost … wounded.
Yet it couldn’t be helped, Rayne knew, hardening his resolve. It was best to begin as he meant to go on. There would be less pain for both of them this way.
“You shouldn’t worry if you don’t hear from me for several days,” he added. “Bramsley will keep a close eye on you and see to your protection. And you may apply to him for anything you need in my absence.”
His majordomo could be counted on to safeguard Madeline and to watch for Baron Ackerby, Rayne reflected. Yet she didn’t seem to appreciate his concern for her welfare.
When she remained mute, merely watching him with those enormous hurt eyes, he collected the remainder of his clothes and went to her bedside.
Bending, he captured her hot, sweet mouth with his one last time, offering silent reassurance in a brief kiss. Then drawing up the covers to conceal her lovely bare body before he was tempted to rejoin her there, Rayne turned and quietly left her bedchamber, aware of Madeline’s wounded gaze following him all the while.
Chapter Eleven
It is extremely disheartening, Maman, when I cannot even keep my husband in my nuptial bed on my wedding night.
When she awoke the next morning after a mostly sleepless night, Madeline lay there a moment taking stock. The strange bed. The unfamiliar delicacy of her body. The heightened sensitivity between her thighs and across her skin. The hurt in her heart.
The memory of Rayne’s wonderful lovemaking made her chest ache. Her wedding night was as perfect as nothing else in her life had ever been … until he had abruptly left her.
A renewed surge of misery struck Madeline as she clutched a pillow to her middle and squeezed her eyes shut. It was not uncommon for spouses of the noble class to have separate bedchambers, but it was rather mortifying that her new husband had retreated to his own rooms immediately after the consummation. Rayne’s abrupt departure for London directly after their wedding night, with scarcely a farewell, did not bode well for their marriage, either.
Yet she was to blame for her current misery, Madeline scolded herself, trying to drum up a trace of her former spirit. It was her own fault for building air castles. The impossible dreams she had woven in her mind of Rayne loving her, of Rayne wanting a real marriage with her, were just that—impossible.
She should never have set her hopes so high. She’d known how painful it would be when reality intruded.
You should have heeded Rayne when he warned you of his dispassion. It serves you right for acting so hastily and accepting his proposal.
Throwing off the covers, Madeline sprang from the bed so she could wash and dress. She was highly annoyed at herself for falling in love with Rayne. And she was determined to crush the painful combination of need and longing she’d felt in his arms last night.
Even so, as she found her undergarments that Rayne had removed so seductively last night, she had never been more conscious of a deep, abiding sense of loneliness. After his magical lovemaking, she found it even harder to deny her deep-rooted need not to be alone, to matter to someone.
“But that someone will not be Rayne,” Madeline reminded herself sternly. If she expected him to suddenly offer his heart in addition to his hand, she was doomed to disappointment.
She was winding her hair into its customary knot when she recalled Rayne’s suggestion that she wear it down to soften her plain features. Her sinking feeling of despair returned full-force, as did her misgivings about her appearance.
Yet there was no point in lamenting her lack of appeal, especially if she had no husband here to try and please. Besides, she was not one to wail about her fate.
She intended to put on a game face and to keep her day full, Madeline swore, setting her jaw. Immediately after breakfast she would write her brother again. The duel and her abrupt wedding had almost made her forget the danger Gerard was in, and she was supremely anxious to hear from him.
Afterward she would ask Bramsley, Riverwood’s majordomo, to show her around the house and make her known to the servant staff.
And she would put in an appearance at the academy this afternoon, Madeline decided, even though both Jane and Arabella didn’t expect her to teach any classes today because of her wedding.
She wanted to keep busy so she wouldn’t dwell on the disaster she had made of her life by marrying Rayne when she should have known better.
At the start, Madeline’s day went precisely as planned. She dined alone in the breakfast room, and afterward Bramsley introduced her to the many servants at Riverwood and took her on an extensive tour of her new home.
Madeline half expected Bramsley to resent her presence, but his demeanor was entirely respectful, if not eager to please. There was no pity in his eyes, either, because she’d been abandoned so shortly after the marriage ceremony. Instead, he acted as if the lord’s absence was a common occurrence.
What was not a common occurrence was hearing Bramsley address her as “my lady.” The first time he did so—greeting Madeline when she left her bedchamber and descended the grand staircase to the ground floor—she gave a start. Remembering that she was now Lady Haviland, however, she summoned a smile. “Good morning to you also, Bramsley.”
“I do beg your pardon, my lady,” he intoned solemnly. “I would have sent a maid to you had I known you would rise so early.”
Madeline heard no criticism in his tone because of her unexpected habits, merely chagrin that he had not anticipated her needs bet
ter.
“To be truthful, I never noticed the absence of a maid, since I am not in the habit of being waited upon. It will be one more thing that I must grow accustomed to.”
Looking relieved by her admission, Bramsley responded with alacrity when she asked to see the house after breakfast. “Certainly, my lady. Lord Haviland bade me ensure your every comfort, and I will be pleased to serve you in any way possible.”
Madeline would have been happier if Rayne himself were here to perform that particular service—but then she chided herself for the thought. How pathetic it would be if she were to become the possessive, clinging bride.
The tour actually took most of her morning. Riverwood was significantly larger than the estate where Madeline had spent the past five years of her life employed as a companion, and there were many, many rooms.
Her favorite, beyond a doubt, was on the second floor.
“This is the bathing chamber, my lady,” Bramsley informed her. “His lordship designed the arrangement and oversaw the construction himself. Hot water is piped here to the tub from the boiler room below, so a regular temperature can be maintained and there is no need to carry cans of water to and fro from the kitchens.”
“Very impressive,” Madeline replied, eyeing the enormous copper bathing tub with its plethora of pipes. What a delicious luxury to have all the hot bathwater one could want. “Did Lord Haviland design any more of the house?”
“Yes, my lady. The kitchens and fireplaces were modernized as well. But his lordship left furnishing the main rooms to me. He purchased the estate last year from an elderly gentleman who wished to reside with his son, and most rooms were in sore need of refurbishing.”
She supposed Rayne had bought Riverwood when he inherited his new title, but she wondered why he would need another country estate when he already had the Haviland family seat in Kent.
“You have excellent taste, Bramsley,” Madeline murmured.
“Thank you, my lady.”
The furnishings, she had noted, were much like Rayne’s town house in London, elegant but comfortable. Madeline thought she would have felt quite at home here if she truly were Rayne’s wife instead of one party in a matrimonial contract.
To Tame a Dangerous Lord Page 19
