“I do have one more story,” Laird admitted, and I shot him a glance. He put his hand up as if to tell me to relax and trust him. “But I can’t give it to you, Gabriel. I’m sorry.”
Bess came out of the kitchen then to see what all the fuss was about. I shook my head at Laird, who was staring me with an unreadable expression on his handsome face.
“You,” said Heath, pointing a long, skinny finger at Bess. “Make dinner. And you,” he pointed at me, “go get a pen and paper. I’m going to sit right here while Laird writes the story, come hell or high water.”
Laird sighed and glanced at me apologetically. My heart sank. He was going to write the story. I didn’t get him the pen and paper, instead ran up to my room and shut the door. I began to cry, tears dripping down my cheeks. I didn’t know how Laird could betray me this way. I thought he loved me, but he had just been using me to inspire his writing. I didn’t know how I could be so stupid; I had felt this way about another man before, though it had been less passionate, less real, and he had betrayed me as well. I heard Laird go up to his room to gather his things and listened to his footsteps as he made his way back down to Heath. I knew then that there was no turning back, that he was going to put to paper one of the most traumatic experiences of my life to publish. It would ruin me in Chappingham, make me the laughing stock of the town. An unwanted, undesirable woman. I buried my face in my pillow and cried myself to sleep.
In the morning, when I woke up, both Heath and Laird were gone. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat and pretend that nothing had happened, that I hadn’t just lost the person I loved most in the world. As I made my way downstairs, I noticed a package on the table. It was wrapped in plain brown paper and had my name on it in Laird’s neat handwriting. I thought about throwing it out, about giving up on him all together, but something made me open it.
Inside were my grandmother’s jewels, the ones I had told Bess to sell in town. I put my hand over my mouth, tears welling up in my eyes. He had bought them and saved them for me. There was something else in the box, too. A folded up manuscript, which I unrolled to see the first line, a title.
“Naomi’s Last Affair.”
I held my breath as I read through it. It wasn’t about my experience with my husband-to-be from the past. It was about Laird and I, about how we fell in love while I told him romantic stories about the other women in my world who had been lucky enough to find someone with whom they could happily spend eternity. It detailed how he’d loved me since the moment he kissed me, the feeling of my lips against his. He talked about moments I didn’t think he’d remember—the time he’d brushed leaves out of my hair and I’d blushed so red from his touch that he laughed, and all the times we’d stared into each other’s eyes, lost in one another’s gaze. My heart thundered in my chest as I put the pages down. He loved me and he was gone for good.
Or maybe not.
I quickly went upstairs to wake Bess by knocking hard against her door. She answered groggily, blinking away sleep.
“What is it?” she asked, and I quickly explained to her what had happened. She nodded, knowing exactly what we had to do. Both of us dressed hurriedly and took the carriage into town as fast as we could.
I didn’t see him at the train station and knew he had already boarded. I glanced frantically through the windows, trying to find him, and my heart leapt when I caught sight of him. I shouted his name loudly and he looked out at me. There were tears in my eyes, tears of hope and fear that I’d lose the man I loved forever. The train began to leave and I stood at the tracks, cupping my face in my hands and letting out a dry sob.
Then the train stopped. I saw Laird jump to the ground from the door and saw a disgruntled porter throw his bags into the dirt. Laird ignored him, ignored the bags, and rushed to me. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me softly on the lips.
“Thank you,” I said, kissing him back. “I love you. Thank you.”
“I love you too, Naomi,” he promised, stroking my cheek with his fingers. “I always will.”
Epilogue:
We were married a week later. It all went so fast, but I knew it was meant to be. There was no other man for me, nor was there a woman who would love him half as much as I did. It was a small wedding—only a pastor and Bess in attendance, but it was perfect for us. Neither of us could stop smiling. We couldn’t stop touching each other, either, whether our hands and fingers were locked or our bodies were pressed together. While we ate dinner, the only thing I could think about was his taking me upstairs to his room. I could tell he was thinking the same thing because his eyes were hot on mine, the grin on his lips promising me something special was to come. I shivered at the idea of it—I had no idea how he was planning to outdo himself, how it was possible that things could get any better. Still, I was excited. More than excited. I ate quickly, distracted, and it got to the point that even Bess stopped trying to engage either one of us, instead turning her attention to the pastor who’d been a friend of my father’s up until he’d died.
After dinner, he slung me over his shoulder, and I beat at his back in false protest as he carried me up the stairs. He laid me gently down on the bed and stood over me, removing his belt. I watched as he undressed, revealing to me his perfect, marvelous body. One that was all mine to pleasure and enjoy. I got wet just looking him over, seeing the hard ridge of his cock standing at attention. He climbed over me and peeled my clothes off, unlacing the simple white lace dress I had worn for our wedding and pulling it up over my head. He did it so slowly, so teasingly, planting hot kisses on my breasts and my belly once I was bare to him. Then he looped the belt around one of the bedposts.
“Hold that,” he said, and I gripped the belt tightly, my hands over my head. “Don’t let go. No matter what, you will not let go of that belt. Do you understand?”
I loved it when his tone became a command. I nodded and he took my chin in his palm, forcing me to look at him.
“I mean it, Naomi.”
“I won’t let go,” I promised, though I had no idea what was in store for me. The idea scared and thrilled me, but I trusted him more than anyone in the world. “I swear.”
“You say that now,” he said, his face breaking into a grin. “But we’ll see.”
I had no idea what he was up to. He slid down over my body and positioned himself so that his face was between my legs. A chill went through me when I felt his warm, tantalizing breath on my mound. I sighed when he parted my folds and ran the flat of his tongue from the bottom to the top of my slit, paying special attention to the bud at my core. I squeezed the belt tight in my hands, so tempted to put them on the back of his head, to stroke his soft hair while he devoured me. He licked and teased me with his tongue until I was so frustrated I nearly did let go of the belt, but a warning look from him told me I’d better not.
Finally, he made me come with his mouth on my bud and his fingers buried deep inside of my channel. He didn’t stop, though, but kept licking, making sure that the touch of his tongue was gentle and indirect enough for my nub to stop throbbing. I came again in a wash of lust, then again as he lapped up my juices. When he was finished using his mouth on me he crawled up my body and kissed me with sensual abandon, letting me taste myself on his tongue. Then he made love to me, slow and deep, giving me orgasm after orgasm until my hands were limp on the belt. I still didn’t let go—didn’t want to. I wanted to give myself over to him in every way, wanted to let him have control over my body. Each time I came, I found it excruciatingly hard not to touch him with my hands.
Finally, he let me drop the belt. Our lovemaking at that point was languid and lazy, easy and natural and perfect. I gripped his back to hold him close as his hips slid against mine, and when I came for the last time that night I panted his name, told him I loved him more than anything.
We fell asleep together after that, for the first time as a married couple. I smiled as I felt his breathing slow, knowing that I had finally found my eternity.
B
ride To The Heartless Veteran
~Bonus Story~
An Arranged Marriage Historical Romance
Adaline
Torn away from my mother at birth, abandoned by my father who died in the war, and left alone with my terrible uncle and timid aunt, lonely and uncertain of my future. That is, until I’m sent away to be the bride to a man I’ve never met. He is cold and harsh yet, there’s something inside him that I long for, I vow to melt his icy heart, either by my charm or by the heat between the sheets.
Connor
Women, can’t live with them or without them. After giving all my love to Felicity, she abandons me, leaves me for another man when I’m fighting and winning the war. So, who needs them? I’ll marry this girl for convenience and live my life in peace. She thinks she’s going to get to me, well it takes more than a gorgeous face and a stunning figure to get me to notice…
* * *
Chapter One
“I know it’s been a year but it doesn’t seem like it to me, uncle.” “You need to move past it, your wallowing isn’t helping anyone or anything, Adaline, especially me.” I looked down at my hands that were in my lap. I have long fingers, just like he did. “Adaline, are you listening?” my uncle said firmly. “Yes, uncle.” I replied, trying to hide my frustration with him. “You are too burdensome for me; I have no use for you here. You are continuously in the way, this house is far too small for you to be around all the time.” I swallowed my words and sucked in my breath while he rambled on about my uselessness. “You’re eighteen now, should be married and withchild, making a home for your husband, not using up my resources.” He stumbled around the kitchen, I was unsure what he was looking for. My uncle, my father’s brother, was always jealous of my father. Jealous that he had a successful business as blacksmith, that he married a woman who was the love of his life, my mother, who passed away when she gave birth to me. Jealous that his wife could even have children. One would think that would make him fond of me, but it just made him more bitter. “You’ll go out west, I found a man who for some reason is interested in you.” That stopped my thoughts. “When?” I asked. “In a fortnight”, he said, without any emotion at all. “An arranged marriage.” I whispered to myself. As I sat there and listened to my uncle rave about how he will have more space and peace and quiet without me around, I tasted blood. The copper taste that I recall from my childhood. Salt, iron, bitterness. I recalled my father picking me up and wrapping a bandage around my skinned knees as I played around his shop. I hadn’t realized I had been biting my lip the whole time. “Begin gathering your things, when it’s time to go, it’s time to go.” And he walked away, leaving me alone at the kitchen table, wondering if this man would be any better than my uncle.
Later that evening as I sat in my small bedroom, there was a knock at the door. It was my aunt, I was sure of it because my uncle would always bang on the door then swing it open. She was a timid woman and quiet, she went along with anything my uncle wanted. They to, had an arranged marriage and I wasn’t sure if she ever grew to love him, or that he loved her. “Come in.” I said. “Hello, dear.” She whispered and she closed the door behind her. My aunt Rebeccah was good to me, as good as she could be so my uncle wouldn’t accuse her of coddling me. She looked at me with such sadness in her eyes, I thought she could be thinking about her own marriage all those years ago. “I’m scared.” I told her. “There, there. It will be all right.” She said, sitting next to me on my bed. “Weren’t you nervous when you had to…?” I began. “Her mouth changed into a thin line, just like we used to hang our clothes outside. “I was nervous but I have been provided for and wont for nothing, Adaline and you won’t either.” She said it so matter-of-factly, I almost thought nothing of it but then the words escaped my lips, “What about love?” My aunt let out a small gasp of air. “Love, my child, love may come or it won’t. Marriages aren’t always about that. Now come, let me brush your hair.” I wasn’t satisfied with her short response but then again, I knew I was asking the wrong person. This was our ritual, her sneaking in some nights and brushing my hair for me. I believe she would be sad to see me go, never having children of her own, she would often do little things for me I could do myself. I sat in front of the mirror at a chair in the corner of my room. My aunt stood behind me and began to brush my hair. I watched her in the mirror. I had long, strawberry blonde hair, it was a bit wavy, something that always gave me trouble when pinning up my hair for Sunday church. I studied myself, wondering what this mystery man would think of me. I had fair skin, a light dusting of freckles across my nose and cheeks. I wasn’t short or tall, just right as my father used to say. I had my mother’s eyes, hazel green. My lips were rosy pink and full like my fathers and my body was long and lean like my mothers had been. Although I was a woman, I still felt like a child. I had always wanted to grow up but now it was coming sooner than I wanted. I decided to feel like a child as often as I could over these next few days. I sat there, in my nightdress, and took in the way it felt to have my hair brushed, the way my aunt’s fingers ran through it, gently and motherly. The scent of her, trying to memorize it all. Then, we heard the horses neigh outside; my uncle. “Well, we should all go to bed now.” And she stood up and set the brush on the table beside me. Then, she bent down and kissed the top of my head, so quickly I wasn’t sure it had even happened. “Goodnight, Adaline.” “Goodnight.” I replied. I crawled into bed, pulled the sheet over me and laid in the dark, uncertain about my future or even what tomorrow might bring.
Chapter Two –Current Time
After a very tiresome journey out west, I finally made it. It took five weeks to arrive and the travel was quite dull. My uncle was not bothered to take me, but paid a neighbor, who was kind but quiet, to take me. He used money my father had left for me which after that, was significantly less. I did have my horse, Percy, a gift from my father two years prior. It was comforting having him with me in a place where nothing was recognizable. I felt very alone and very scared for what was to come and the man I was going to meet. “Are we almost to his home?” I asked Claude as I noticed we were in the parish I would be now living. “Just a little further.” He mumbled. I could tell the trip had taken its toll on him. He was weathered and tired and had barely slept as far as I could tell. I took a deep breath, in and out. I took my rice powder out of its case and dusted some across my cheeks. I applied beeswax to my lips to make them shine and ran my brush through my hair. The carriage came to a stop and all my senses were heightened. The sound of the horse’s hooves on the dirt, one stomp, two stomps. The smell of the air after the rain. “We’re here, Miss.” Claude announced. He stepped down from his perch and began to unload my belongings. I had four cases to my name, my clothes, a few books, a few of my mother’s things, a necklace, a rare photo of my father. I was wearing my best dress today, knowing I would be meeting my husband, I longed to make a good impression. This dress was a gift from my father on my birthday, right before he died. I remember opening it from its box and being so delighted at the beauty of it. “You look just like your mother.” He beamed, a hint of sadness his eyes. It was a summer dress, an off the shoulder dress, cream with red flowers and lace around the edges. It showed off my milky white skin. I stepped out of the carriage, my legs aching from sitting. There it was, my new home. Sitting on a large plot of land, it was a modest but nice home. Much nicer than my uncles. A log cabin that looked sturdily built and had a stone foundation. I could see there was a chimney, something I missed from my father’s home. The property had many trees and shade and I could see a small lake in the distance. Next to the lake was a stable and I saw two more horses making their way around the fence. I looked around but there was no sign of anyone. “Let me see if he is home.” Claude said and began to slowly walk up the small hill to the door. “Stay here.” He instructed. I wondered though, where all my things might fit. I wanted to peek in the windows but thought better of it. “He’s not in.” Claude shouted as I sauntered down the hill. “What do we do?�
� I asked. “Wait, I imagine, miss.” I sighed. I longed to get this meeting over with. As I began to make my way back into the carriage, a man’s voice was heard in the distance. “Here, over here.” He was saying. I turned around and just to the right of this cabin, over a bit in the distance was a man waving his arms. Claude shrugged and nodded his head for me to get in. He loaded my things back into the carriage and we made our way up the small hill. As we got to the top, I saw a large home, with spires and a wrap-around porch. It looked like there were hundreds of windows and at least four chimneys. My mouth was agape and I realized that this could be my new home. I was so aghast that I didn’t register the man at first, Connor was his name I had been told. He was taller than me, well-dressed. He had a full head of deep chestnut hair and a strong jaw. His eyes were piercingly blue. The carriage turned and he was out of sight. My heartbeat quickened. I swallowed, hot tears came to my eyes but I blinked them away. It was all happening. I got out of the carriage and saw he was standing at the door, holding it open. I stepped down and realized he was much taller than I. He did not smile. “Adaline March, I am Connor McAvoy.” He was gruff. “Pleasure to meet you.” I replied though It wasn’t entirely true. Dread filled my mind at once, would he be as awful as my uncle? Connor took my cases up to the house and Claude followed behind. I watched as I noticed his muscles flexing and tightening under his jacket. I could tell he was fit and strong, a slight bit older than I but possibly not by much. I followed him and made my way into the grand home. Inside was just as beautiful as out, wooden floors and thick rugs made the vast home seem cozy. It was very plain; a woman’s touch was missing. “This way.” He said firmly and we made our way up the stairs to the bedroom. I waited in the hall while Connor took my bags inside the room, leaving me only able to peek inside and see a very large bed. I bit my lip again. “Thank you, Claude for bringing Adaline all this way. Would you care to stay the evening and rest?” Claude shook his head. “Some water and I will be on my way.” He said. I was almost dreading him leaving, he was about the last thing I had left of familiarity. “I do need to leave her with Percy, her steed.” Claude said. “Come, I’ll help you bring him to the stables. Adaline, wait here.” The men left and I stood at the top of the stairs taking in my new home. After I was sure they had gone, I peeked into the bedroom. There was a large canopy bed and a large rug. A fireplace made of stone was on, which I thought strange since it was summer but the room wasn’t too warm. I moved from room to room, most of them empty. I made my way downstairs and saw a large dining table made from wood with an empty basket on top. Piles of books were in the next room, large volumes and small. “So he likes to read.” I said aloud. “I do.” I whirled around, “Sorry, I was just exploring.” I stammered. “I see.” Was all he said. “I take breakfast at six, all you need is in the kitchen. That is your room upstairs, mine is at the other end of the hall.” He pulled the door of the library closed and locked it; locking me out and he turned and went upstairs in the direction of his room. With nothing to do, I went upstairs, shut the door behind me and began to cry. From one cold and unloving man to another-I will never be able to escape. I sobbed into my pillow until I cried myself to sleep.
Sold To The Dragon Princes: The Novel Page 73
