“This is about your survival, not charity. Why is it so difficult for you to set aside your pride?”
“Pride is all I have left.” She rose to her feet and went to stand beside him. The warm firelight illuminated her hair, the honeyed strands gleaming. Worry creased her face, and she avoided his gaze. “I can’t repay you.”
Money wasn’t a concern of his, and the cost of providing her with food and supplies for a few months wouldn’t be a noticeable expense. “You don’t have to.”
With her standing so close, he could smell the fragrance of vanilla emanating from her skin. She held herself motionless, as though uncertain about what to do. A soft tendril of blond hair curled against her breast, and she kept her eyes averted.
“Are you expecting me to become your mistress in exchange for the supplies?”
Her bluntness caught him unawares. The thought hadn’t entered his mind, and it irritated him that she would think that. “I’m not that mercenary. You need my help, and I intend to grant it. Nothing more.”
That wasn’t the sort of man he was. After all the years they’d known each other, surely she had to know this.
“Then why did you kiss me before?” Emily looked at him, her brown eyes searching. She drew his coat tighter around her shoulders, her expression vulnerable.
He didn’t answer. How could he answer the question when he didn’t know the answer himself? She should have been a stranger to him, a woman he hardly knew. And yet, he found the past merging with the present, blurring lines he should not have crossed.
“I apologize.” He gave a slight bow. “You should be warm enough for the night. I’ll find another place to sleep.”
She offered him his coat back, and he took it, abandoning the meager plate of food. Behind him, the door swung closed, and he left her alone.
What had come over him? There was no reason to touch Emily again, no matter what had happened between them years ago. She had her own future apart from his. Though he wanted to alleviate her hardship, he knew better than to trespass upon the boundary of their friendship.
His imagination flared with thoughts of her smooth skin, the dip of her stomach and the curve of her breasts. When he’d kissed her earlier, there had been a madness, an instinctive craving. A night such as this made it easy to fall prey to desire. Being trapped in a house, alone with a beautiful woman…it was like walking upon shifting sands.
He put as much distance as possible between Emily’s room and himself. The house was cold and dark, forcing him to don the coat once more. Hardly any furnishings remained, and over the next hour, he discovered that none of the bedrooms had a single mattress.
When at last he gave up, deciding to sleep upon a sofa he’d located earlier, a gust of cold air swept into the drawing room from the hall. Stephen buttoned his coat to ward off the freezing chill, wondering if there was a window that needed to be sealed off.
He followed the source of the cold until he saw Emily standing at the back door. It was open slightly, and snowflakes were drifting into the hall.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, striding forward to close the door. But she placed herself in the door frame, blocking him.
“Come here,” she ordered. She held a lantern in her hand, and the amber glow revealed swirls of white snow. Dizzying fat flakes fell so fast he could hardly see beyond the garden. The wind slashed at his coat, but Emily didn’t seem to notice the cold. Her face was shining with a wide smile, her lips wet from the cold. “Look.”
“It’s freezing, and you’re going to make yourself ill if you remain out in this weather.”
She lifted her hood as a compromise, and dashed forward. Leaning down, she reached into the wet drift and formed a snowball.
“Don’t even think of it, Emily. We’re not children anymore.”
But she took aim and fired it at his shoulder. “What good is snow if you can’t play in it?”
With the snow falling against her hood, a few flakes landed upon her lashes. Her brown eyes were dark and mischievous, like the eyes of the girl he’d known. In that moment, he no longer cared that it was the middle of the night, and they were caught in a snowstorm. It didn’t matter that he was an Earl with a respectable reputation to uphold.
He strode forward with a snowball in his own hands. “Do you really want to play, Emily?”
Before he could throw it, his foot caught on a patch of ice and he stumbled forward. He grabbed Emily’s hands, trying to regain his balance, but he tipped over, dragging her with him.
She laughed, smashing snow into his collar. He didn’t find it amusing at all, but with her body straddled atop him, unexpected desire roared into full force. His hands moved into her hair, dragging her mouth down to his. Though her lips were cold, he didn’t care. The spiraling attraction made it impossible to think clearly, the kiss tempting him beyond reason.
He kept waiting for her to strike out at him, but she didn’t. Instead, she cupped her hand to his face, seeking comfort. She nipped at his upper lip, and when her silken tongue touched his, it took everything he had to break free from the spell she’d cast upon him.
“Emily, stop.”
His hardened erection pressed against her thin drawers, and right now he wanted to unfasten his breeches, burying himself inside her warmth. He wanted her naked skin against his, her body at his beckoning. “This isn’t a game anymore.”
It was becoming physically painful to have her body so intimately pressed against his. Gingerly, he lifted her off him and stood. “Let’s go inside.” Or better yet, she could go inside, and he could go stand in a snowdrift to cool his ardor.
“Wait. I want to watch the snow for a moment.” A wistful smile curved at her lips. “I used to love seeing it fall against my window during the wintertime. I’ve always thought it was enchanted.”
To indulge her, Stephen stood while the snow swirled around them. Emily didn’t look at him, but her fingers brushed against his in silent invitation. He took her cold hand in his, trying to warm it.
The wild flakes blew wherever they wanted to, gracing tree branches and bushes with a rich icing of white. There was no pattern to it, nothing predictable. Only freedom in its purest form. And in that moment, he understood why she loved it so.
Though her teeth were chattering, he waited until Emily was ready to return. Her hair was dotted with white, for her hood had slipped off.
“That was foolish of me, I know,” she said, when they entered the house once more. “My clothes are soaked.”
He walked her to the stairs. “I’ll put some hot water onto the stove for you. You can bathe and warm yourself.”
“But the wood—I need to make it last.”
“We’re going to use it all up tonight, Emily,” he informed her. “I’ll be sending you coal in the morning.”
She sobered, then gave a nod. “I suppose.” Even so, she appeared uneasy, almost afraid of him. It was his own fault for touching her.
“I’m not going to ask anything of you tonight,” he swore. “You’ll get warm and sleep in your own bed. I won’t come near you.”
Her brown eyes gazed into his, and with trembling hands, she reached out to him. He saw the same aching desire that he was feeling, mingled with her fears.
“What if I want you to?”
Emily waited for nearly an hour before Stephen brought up the last of the hot water. He’d added it to the small hip bath, mixing it with snow to bring it to the right temperature. Heaven help her, she’d been fascinated by his muscles straining as he lifted the heavy pots, pouring the water into her bath.
He didn’t have to work this hard, nor had she expected him to assume the role of a servant. When the last of the water had been added, he turned to leave.
“Stay,” she whispered. She pushed away all thoughts of how wrong her invitation was. The chances of her marrying anyone were slim, and she didn’t doubt that Whitmore would leave her again. This might be the last moment she would ever be alone with him.
&n
bsp; The old feelings of unrequited love threatened to bury her. In her girlish dreams, she’d hoped that one day they might marry. And though he’d never spoken a word of his own feelings, she’d known they had friendship.
They still did. For tonight, it was enough.
He crossed the room to stand before her. A thin sheen of sweat lined his skin, and he’d loosened his cravat. His steel-gray eyes bore into hers. “I can’t stay with you, and you know it.”
“I’ve been alone for so long,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to go.”
Emily didn’t speak of the feelings she’d locked away, deep inside. If she did, she might break apart. Right now, she was offering herself to him, hoping he wouldn’t abandon her. There would be no other man for her, not at her age. She would never know what it was to lose herself in a man’s touch, to yield beneath his body and unlock the mysteries of taking a lover.
But honor shielded him. He wouldn’t touch her, so long as he believed he was taking something away from her. Didn’t he know he was granting her a gift?
She took his hands and brought them to the front of her gown. She’d had to alter this dress, sewing the buttons down the front since she had no ladies’ maid to help her. Stephen’s gaze was unrelenting, his eyes burning into hers. “You owe me nothing, Emily.”
“Show me what it would have been like,” she whispered, “if your father hadn’t taken you away from me.” Though it went against everything she’d been taught, she wanted a memory that would last for always.
His mouth drifted against hers, in a kiss that was hardly there. She unbuttoned her own gown, placing his hands upon her chemise. His hands curved over the damp fabric, and when he encountered no barrier, he demanded, “Why aren’t you wearing a corset?”
“I’ve no one to help me dress. It was impossible to put on by myself.” Her cheeks grew warm with the confession, but his palm reached out to cup her breast. His thumb stroked the erect tip through the fabric, caressing her as he had that night in the barn. A flood of rich pleasure welled up inside her, and she found herself reaching for his shirt, lifting away the cambric.
His chest was broad and muscled, his firm shoulders ridged with a quiet strength. She laid her palms over his heartbeat, wishing she could make him feel the same longing she was feeling.
He removed the rest of her clothing until she stood naked before him. It was cold in the room, and her nipples were taut in the frigid air. Emily removed the remaining pins in her hair until it spilled over her shoulders, down to cover her breasts.
Stephen’s eyes were raw with need, and he pushed the hair aside to look at her. “Don’t cover yourself in front of me. You’ve nothing to hide.”
He lifted her into his arms, setting her down into the hip bath. The water warmed her skin, tingling all the way to her toes. He scooped up a handful and let it spill over her throat, down her breasts and stomach.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?”
She shook her head, and his hands moved through the water to rest upon her skin. “You’re driving me to madness.” He reached for the soap, his voice turning wicked. “And now, I’m going to make you feel the same way.”
He rubbed the cake of foaming soap, bringing his hands to the curve of her breast. He rubbed circles over her skin, the slippery motion arousing her sensitive flesh. When his palms cupped her nipples, she felt an answering warmth between her thighs. He leaned in to kiss her while his hands soaped her breasts, rubbing the nipples over and over in a slow rhythm.
More warm water rinsed her skin, and his hands were replaced by his mouth. He kissed her shoulder, trailing down to the side of her breast. His tongue slid under the curve, and then his mouth fastened upon her nipple.
He sucked gently, and Emily moaned at the contact. Beneath the water, his hands roamed lower. Past her stomach, to the juncture of her thighs.
“I’m going to touch you there,” he promised, moving his hand against her delicate flesh. His fingers stroked her, and he brought her other hand to her own breast. “I want you to touch your breasts while I do.”
Emily’s face turned scarlet, but she obeyed. It was strange, to touch her own body. She felt shy about it, but he coaxed her to rub the nipples, to pinch them gently. Aching heat rose through her as she caressed the tips, and he supported her hips, using his other hand to explore her womanhood.
“Do you know how much I wanted you that night in the stable?” he murmured, kissing her rib cage. “It’s even worse now. I want to kiss you, fill you up inside.” He slid a finger into her warmth as he spoke, and she shuddered against his hand. His thumb flicked the nub above her entrance, and as she continued to caress her nipples, a dark warmth began to descend. She felt herself straining against him, none of the cold air bothering her now. Her body was unbearably hot, reacting to his touch until she shivered. But she couldn’t seem to understand what it was she needed so badly.
He inserted another finger, mimicking lovemaking. Her body stretched against the unfamiliar invasion, and yet the torment went on. Over and over, he caressed her, while she touched her breasts. Something strange began to happen to her, a wild blossoming heat in her center. Stephen increased the pressure, and her hands suddenly gripped the edges of the tub, while shimmering tremors racked her body, flooding it with a release so hard, she nearly wept from the intensity.
She was boneless, melting against the edges of the tub as he lifted her up and dried her off with a linen towel. Naked and shivering, he laid her down upon the bed, covering her body with the sheets. His expression was dark, almost pained. But he made no further move toward her.
He was going to stop now, she realized. He wasn’t going to become her lover tonight. He’d given her unspeakable pleasure, while he’d taken nothing for himself.
She didn’t like it. It wasn’t fair, and she wanted him to experience the same wildness. Was it the same for a man, as a woman?
He was starting to reach for his shirt, but she stopped him. “Where are you going?”
“To my own bed. Probably after I go and stand outside in the snow for an hour.” He sat up tentatively, but she reached out to touch his shoulder.
Embarrassment colored her skin, but she didn’t want him to go. Not yet. The thought of him spending the night in a cold room, away from her, was unbearable.
“I’ve done something wrong, haven’t I?” Her voice caught in her throat, and he rolled over to face her.
“No, Emily. I’m the one who’s done something wrong.” He closed his eyes, still lying beside her.
Though tears stung her eyes, she forged ahead. He wanted her still, she could see it. But likely he feared he’d have to marry her now. She understood that it couldn’t happen. They were as far apart as a prince from a serving maid. Even so, she didn’t care.
Her cheeks burned with fear and embarrassment, and she realized that he wasn’t going to touch her again. But could she…touch him?
Without asking permission, she ran her hands over his warm skin, across his shoulders and down to his stomach. His face tightened, but he made no move to stop her.
When her hands moved to the button of his trousers, he caught them. “What are you doing?”
She froze, wishing she could hide her head beneath the covers and die. Had she misread him? But beneath her hands, she felt his rigid manhood. It swelled, straining against the fabric of his trousers.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just didn’t want you to stop.”
She moved her hands away, but he took them and brought them around his neck. Her bare breasts rested against his warm chest, and as soon as their skin touched, her arousal heightened. “I’ve never asked you for anything, Whitmore,” she breathed against his throat. “Not in all the years we’ve known each other. I would never make demands that you couldn’t give.” She hoped he would understand that this night was not a means of trapping him.
His hand moved down her spine, tracing a silken trail to her hips. His eyes were hooded, like a man on the brin
k of losing control. “You deserve better than this.”
“No, I don’t.”
She leaned forward to kiss him, and he raised her leg over his hip. His hand palmed her bottom, torment etched upon his face. Once more, she reached for the buttons of his trousers, but this time, he removed the rest of his clothing. Skin to skin, he embraced her. The heat of their bodies evoked needs she didn’t know she had.
The iron ridge of his manhood glided against her intimately, and a breathless moan escaped her. Her body welcomed him, the slick moisture making her desire more.
“I want you, Emily,” he said roughly. “Even more now than I did ten years ago. But I don’t want you to have any regrets.”
“The only regret I’ll have is if you leave me tonight,” she murmured. “Please don’t.”
He lowered his mouth to her collarbone, pressing soft kisses upon her skin. She sighed with thankfulness, welcoming him. His mouth moved over the curve of her breast, his tongue swirling over her nipple. Teeth nipped the edge, before he suckled the tip. Her hands dug into his hair as he feasted upon her body, his warm mouth and tongue making her forget the devastating loneliness.
Between her thighs, she felt the thickness of his shaft, the head probing into her wetness. The foreign sensation startled her, and as he lifted her knee, he ran his mouth over the sensitive skin. Her hips spasmed at the shock, and he cupped her bottom, kneading the skin as he eased himself inside.
He was larger than she’d expected, and it was difficult for her to take him into her body. Emily fought to relax, but instead of thrusting inside, he began to move gently. Only an inch within, he used his manhood to caress her warmth. And when his mouth came down on hers, his tongue slid inside in the same manner. Slowly. Gentle and deep, he continued to move.
“Are you all right?” he whispered, and she nodded. There was nothing at all invasive about his lovemaking, only the deepest caress. His face was strained, as though he were fighting against himself.
A little farther inside, and she felt her body trembling harder. He pressed his hand against her center, while sliding his shaft within. Emily gripped his neck, raising her knees to bring him closer. When he breached her virginity at last, she was so ready for him, the full contact made her shudder.
An Accidental Seduction Page 3
