“So beautiful.” He said it so reverently she felt as though it were true. He lifted her to cradle her in his arms, his strength filling her with weakness. Effortlessly, he knelt on the bed and set her down then lay beside her.
Again, he kissed her then eased lower, leaving a trail of heat as he nibbled. He ran a hand along the curve of her calf, then up to her thigh, sending desire spearing through her.
“Soft, warm, so passionate.” He took her nipple in his mouth as his hand touched her very center, stroking her moist heat.
“Michael.” Her breath came quickly as her body quivered with need. Her hips shifted, moving to a rhythm of their own accord. His lips suckled as his hand caressed her.
“Yes,” he murmured between licks. “Let it happen, Emma. I’ve got you.”
“No.” He immediately stopped to look at her, his brow creased. “Not without you. I want to feel you inside me. To be one with you.”
He closed his eyes, whether in relief or desire, she wasn’t sure. “Are you certain?”
“Yes.” She reached for the fastening of his trousers and felt his belly tremble as her fingers brushed against him.
“Wait.” He took her hands in his, closed his eyes and drew a deep breath before opening them again. “I want you so much.”
The heat in his eyes sent awareness sliding over her skin. “Then I am yours.”
He moved off the bed, unfastening and shedding his pants to toss them carelessly aside. She smiled to realize she had the power to make him forget to be tidy. As he turned, she saw him in full, his naked body rippling in the candlelight, his strength even more evident by the shadows cast in the dim light.
His manhood was significantly larger than she expected. Curious, she reached out to trail a finger along the shaft.
“Emma. Christ. You’ll have me done before we start.”
“It’s so soft. But so hard.” Unable to resist, she touched him once more.
He groaned in response, his breath heaving. His reaction fascinated her as much as his body. To think her touch made him tremble so.
“You are a siren,” he muttered as his body jerked at her hand. “Sent to test my limits.”
“I think your limits are quite high, my lord.”
He smiled even as he groaned again. “No more.” He moved onto the bed beside her, the heat of his body enveloping her. His lips took hers as his hands claimed her body. His caresses were everywhere, leaving no part of her untouched. At last his fingers found her moist center. “Yes, Emma, yes. So hot. So wet.”
Her only response was to moan as her hips thrust toward his hand. She reached for him, her fingers traveling downward until she reached his shaft. Her hand curled around it, amazed as his hips moved back and forth, sending the hot length of him through her fingers.
He shifted, his lips capturing her breast as his fingers continued their sweet torment. But he moved out of her reach. She needed to hold him, to caress him, so found the hard pebble of his nipple to squeeze. He groaned, muttering her name.
“Michael?” She could bear no more. She needed something...anything to end this, to release the ache deep inside her.
“Yes.” He shifted to rise over her and positioned himself between her legs.
The tip of his manhood touched her and all she could think was yes. This. Now. Her hips tilted to capture him. As his body eased forward, the tightness shocked her. She felt as though she was stretching, adjusting to fit him. “Oh.” The unfamiliar sensation felt so odd, yet so right.
“Hold on to me,” Michael urged as he eased slowly forward. “Give me a moment.”
But she didn’t want to wait. She wanted more. She grasped his hips and pulled him into her. The feeling of being one stole her breath. She held him there, unable to move, only able to feel. “Oh, my.”
With a groan, Michael pulled back and thrust forward, the friction leaving her gasping. Already her body seemed to have adjusted to him, the tightness easing, leaving a glorious heat in its wake.
More. That was all she could think. Whatever this was, she wanted more.
“You feel so good, my sweet. So damned good.” He seemed to be trying to control their speed and was shaking with his efforts. He shifted, lowering onto his elbow as he reached between them to touch her intimately.
Desire spiraled through her, arching her off the bed. Each thrust, each touch, brought her closer to the edge. Then her body took flight as her emotions collided, sending light in every direction as she convulsed. “Yes!”
Michael moved back and forth one last time before pushing into her and staying there as though he never wanted to leave. The expression on his face was part agony, part ecstasy.
Oddly enough, she knew exactly how that felt. She slowly floated back to earth, the weight of Michael on top of her a wonderful sensation. Tears filled her eyes and she couldn’t help but hold him tight, never wanting this moment to end.
“Emma?” His concern brought him up onto his elbow to look down into her face. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, no,” she quickly reassured him. “Quite the opposite.” She swallowed hard in an attempt to stem her emotions. “You are everything I hoped for and more.”
But more tears came as she realized there was something missing. Something stood between them, keeping them apart despite what they’d just shared, like a thin veil that allowed them to touch, but not to do so in full. A part of her feared this interlude was only temporary, that she did not deserve Michael, that she did not belong here, so he could never truly be hers in full.
“You are so special.” He kissed the tears from her cheeks, his tenderness swamping her. “Please don’t cry.” He shifted to move off her, but she held him tight as she battled her composure.
“Michael? If we only have this moment, I would still be the happiest woman on earth.”
He kissed her again. “I intend for us to have many more times exactly like this, though perhaps not in my grandmother’s house.”
The mention of his grandmother worried her even more. Would his grandmother approve or be appalled by their relationship? She pushed her concern aside, determined to enjoy this moment.
“I can see the wheels turning in your mind even now. All will be well, my sweet. You shall see.” He kissed her as though to seal his words.
Why oh why didn’t her heart believe it to be true?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Michael sat in the chair before Ashbury’s desk and tried to suppress his smile. To distract himself, he picked up the miniature electromagnetic device Ashbury had fashioned. He couldn’t remember being quite this happy since...well, ever actually.
His time with Emma had made him realize how precious life was. How truly amazing it could be. Already he looked forward to when they could be together. Images of her soft curves, her sweet lips, heated him as his thoughts returned to the previous night.
He realized Ashbury was staring at him. “What?”
“Just trying to determine what has you so bloody pleased with yourself.”
Michael grinned. He couldn’t help it.
“Come on, man. Out with it. What happened last evening?” Ashbury leaned forward, his elbows on his desk, his green eyes lit with interest. “I heard Vandimer found his daughter and Lord Thompson in an inappropriate embrace. Tongues are wagging. Of course, rumor has it that she had already called off her engagement to you. Is all that the reason for your happiness?”
Michael chuckled. “Aren’t you a fountain of information this morning? I had no idea you were so interested in gossip these days.”
Ashbury narrowed his eyes. “Abigail was kind enough to update me on the events at the ball last evening as much of it slipped my notice. However, I can see that as interesting as those facts are, none of them are responsible for your current mood.”
“True.”
“Well? Out with it.”
Michael sighed.
“Oh,” Ashbury said with exaggeration.
“Oh what?” He stared at his
friend, trying to understand his rather odd intonation.
“It has to do with a woman. I would guess her name is Emma Grisby.”
Michael could only smile. “Let’s just say I’m pleased with the way things are progressing on many fronts.” He chose to ignore the small sliver of guilt over his inability to declare his love to Emma. Yet how could he? What if by saying the words aloud, he evoked the curse his father and mother had endured? Surely by holding back a part of himself, he could protect them both. He saw no other option.
“There is one area that is not progressing,” Michael said, hoping Ashbury would permit the change of subject. He didn’t care to discuss his relationship with Emma any further. Not yet. It was too new. Too delicate.
Ashbury sat back in his chair, a scowl on his face. “Our mystery has yet to be resolved.”
“Have you received any word on who was after Patrick?”
“His name is Mikey. Bad fellow. Bit of a brute. If Mikey was chasing him that must mean word has spread about him witnessing the murder.”
“If the professor or whoever is now helping him truly murdered Lord Berkmond and Patrick witnessed it then Patrick and his family are in grave danger.” Michael ran his hand through his hair. The stakes had increased even higher than he’d realized.
“Indeed. If Mikey knows this so does the professor and his new henchman. Mikey has a bunch of thugs at his disposal, which makes inquiries rather difficult. If we ask the wrong person, the penalty is steep.”
“One step forward, two steps back.”
“Quite. Frustrating as hell.” Ashbury shook his head.
“You do realize that Emma is truly innocent in all this.” Michael didn’t bother to phrase it as a question.
“I came to that conclusion some time ago as well. How did she take the news that her uncle lives?”
“About as well as could be expected.” Michael sighed, remembering all too well the pain on her face. He had to find a way to bring out the professor and put all this to an end. “I have another idea that might rattle the situation. Why don’t I take a turn with the meteorite?”
Ashbury raised a brow. “What do you intend to do?”
“I’m not sure, but somehow, we need to stir things up a bit, don’t you think? Perhaps this Mikey is somehow connected to the whole bloody mess. A word in his ear about the meteorite could shift his attention away from Patrick.”
“That could be very dangerous. Won’t holding yourself out as having the meteorite potentially lead the professor to Emma and Patrick?”
“Perhaps that’s what we should hope for. Then the professor will finally show himself.” Michael rose and drew back the curtain to stare out into the fog. “We can’t allow this to continue any longer. Not with Emma’s family in danger.”
“Now you know how I felt when Abigail was in danger.”
“I notice you didn’t mention that she was often the one placing herself in danger.”
Ashbury shuddered. “Don’t remind me. In truth, I could see Emma doing something along those lines as well.”
“I will not allow it.” Even the thought of her in danger sent his pulse racing.
“I wish you luck. Women are not so easily controlled as one might think.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Ashbury opened a drawer in his desk, lifted the lining and withdrew a key. He unlocked another drawer, removed the false back and at last pulled out the meteorite and tossed it to Michael. “It’s all yours.”
Michael hefted the stone in his hand. “Allow us to see if this Mikey can connect us with the professor. Rumors spread so well in the ton, I’m anxious to see if it works the same way amidst the working class.”
“I’m not certain Miss Grisby will appreciate your plan.”
“I don’t know that I’ll tell her. I wouldn’t want to worry her anymore than she already is.”
“Do be careful,” Ashbury warned. “I hope you’re not asking for more than you bargained.”
“Of course. I suddenly find myself with more reasons to want to live a long life than ever before.”
~*~
Emma realized she’d been staring at the same page of her notes for several minutes now. She was supposed to be jotting down ideas for her book, but she couldn’t seem to focus. Granted, the research material she’d chosen was rather dry. Seeing what other instruction manuals for governesses existed had seemed like a good idea, but this one was written in such a boring manner that it couldn’t possibly hold anyone’s interest. Or it could be that she simply couldn’t concentrate today.
Happiness was a warm glow in her heart. She wanted to hold onto it tight to be certain it didn’t escape.
Two days had passed since she’d shared the night with Michael. Those days had been wonderful. Her family was settling in quite nicely at the viscountess’s.
Even now, her mother sat in a tufted chair, plying her skills to an intricately patterned needlework, a basket of thread at her side. The relaxed, satisfied expression on her face had Emma smiling. She seemed to be enjoying herself whether she was visiting with the viscountess or spending time with their entire family. Emma had still not told her about Uncle Grisby. Somehow, she needed to see him with her own eyes to truly believe it was possible. A part of her still felt there had to be some sort of mistake.
Emma’s gaze fell on her mother’s drab gown. She wished she could find different gowns for both her and Tessa to wear, but Emma’s were too long for her mother and too loose for Tessa. Her mother dismissed her suggestion, saying they would look for some fabric once they returned home. The thought of returning to the tiny, dingy rooms at the lodging house made her ill. If Michael...
She stopped herself. Michael had offered nothing. She didn’t know where their relationship would lead. But she knew Michael was an honorable man. He’d asked her to wait for him, and that was enough for her. For now, that had to be enough.
With a sigh, she closed her eyes. How she wished she could share recent events with her mother. Well, not all events, but just the knowledge that she and Michael had feelings for each other. He’d held her with such tenderness, had been so giving. His body could serve as a model for a marble statue—broad shoulders, narrow hips—so powerful, yet so gentle. She grew heated just thinking about him. To know that he was no longer engaged and that he cared for her was amazing and filled her with hope.
Perhaps their future would be bright after all.
Tessa had come down for breakfast but was now resting in her room. She’d mentioned sitting in the garden this afternoon, which gave Emma a little thrill. Patrick was with the tutor Michael had sent over that morning. Though her brother had protested having to take lessons, Emma thought he was secretly pleased Michael thought enough of him to hire a tutor.
Viscountess Weston paused in the doorway of the drawing room. “Jane? The dressmaker is here to take your measurements. Let us see what she has brought for us to look at.”
“Dressmaker?” Emma’s mother frowned. “There must be some mistake. We didn’t order any gowns.”
“No, but I ordered them for you.” The twinkle in the viscountess’s eyes make Emma chuckle. “Come along, Jane. The fabric she has is marvelous. I can’t wait for you to see it.”
Her mother’s brows rose. “I couldn’t possibly—”
“Of course you could,” the viscountess interrupted. “Or at least, I could.” She moved forward and held out her hand to Emma’s mother. “Please say yes. It will be great fun. Come and see. I have something in mind for Tessa as well. Emma, will you join us?”
“The two of you enjoy it. I’m going to continue working on my notes.”
“Very well then. We shall keep you apprised of our decisions.” The viscountess departed, clearly expecting Emma’s mother to follow.
Emma’s mother looked at Emma, brow raised. “Truly, no purpose is served in arguing with her, Mother. She always manages to have her way.”
Her mother shook her head but followed the viscount
ess with a spring in her step.
Emma grinned as she picked up her pen. Life was so very sweet.
~*~
Michael nodded at the footman who opened the door at his grandmother’s home.
“Good day to you, my lord,” the brawny footman said.
“I trust all is well, Wilson?” Michael asked. Wilson had transferred from Michael’s home to his grandmother’s temporarily with orders to be on watch for anything unusual and to keep a close eye on Patrick to make certain the boy didn’t venture out on his own.
“Indeed, my lord. Nothing of which to advise you. All the ladies are resting in their rooms and Mr. Patrick is with the tutor.”
Hiding his disappointment that everyone was otherwise engaged, Michael waved off the footman. “I will leave a note for my grandmother then.”
He walked into the drawing room to the corner where his grandmother’s writing desk stood and withdrew a sheet of paper as the footman’s steps faded down the hall. Indecision filled him. What he really wanted was to see Emma. He listened as the quietness of the house settled around him. An idea took hold that he couldn’t deny, especially since it had worked so well once before.
Leaving the paper on the desk, he walked back into the hall to find it deserted. As quickly and quietly as possible, he ran up the stairs and in short order, arrived at Emma’s door. He tapped softly.
“Yes?”
Taking her response as an invitation, he opened the door and quickly closed it behind him, not wanting to be discovered in the hall. The sight before him caught his breath.
A tub sat in the middle of the room with the object of his desire submerged in it. Water lapped at the curve of her breasts, her expression one of stunned disbelief as she stared at him with those large brown eyes. Her hair was swept up into a casual knot on her head with a few loose tendrils framing her face. She’d never looked more beautiful. “Michael?”
“Emma.” Passion speared through him, sharp and sweet. He reached behind him and locked the door, so grateful he’d given in to his impulse.
Passionate Secrets (The Secrets Trilogy Book 2) Page 25
