by CJ Archer
***
Orlando's naked body felt cool against Susanna's back, and his hair damp as it brushed her shoulder. She'd kept her eyes closed as he returned to her bedchamber and her bed, but feigning sleep was the coward's way so she opened them. She liked to think she was no longer that fearful young girl who'd gone into her first marriage with eyes just as tightly shut. Figuratively anyway.
"Where did you go?" she asked, rolling over, ensuring a few inches of distance remained between them. Orlando closed the gap quickly, squishing her breasts against his chest. The urge to wrap her arms and legs around him to warm him was strong, but she resisted. Let him stay cold. Unless he had a good explanation for his wanderings...
No, even then she would not curl up to him. Dawn had arrived and that heralded a return to their previous arrangement of mistress and servant. The role of lovers would have to wait until nightfall.
"I thought you were asleep," Orlando said, his smoky eyes watching her. His fingers circled her breast lazily.
Perhaps they could be lovers for a few minutes more. Dawn was slowly spreading its glow through the room but Bessie wouldn't come upstairs for some time.
"I awoke when you left," she said, nuzzling closer despite a small voice in her head warning her to stay away.
"And here I thought I'd been quiet."
He had been extremely quiet. It wasn't that she'd heard him leave, or felt the absence of his body next to her, it was more a sensation that had washed over her in her dreams. She'd felt the loss of him keenly in her sleep, only to find it was because he'd left her in the waking world.
"You haven't answered my question," she said, determined to get an answer no matter what he did with his fingers and lips. "Where did you go?"
Those lips nibbled her ear, her throat, and a little sigh escaped her. Oh, he was good. He was very, very good. He knew just the right spot to draw a gasp from her and set her body tingling. She put her hands to the sides of his face...
...and pushed him away.
"A fair attempt to distract me, Mr. Holt, but it won't work."
He gave her a wounded look. "What happened to calling me Orlando?"
"It's time to return to being Lady Lynden and Mr. Holt again."
"I'll call you whatever you want, and you can call me anything you like, but don't banish me yet. Please. It's still early and I want to linger in your arms awhile longer." He sidled closer and she could feel just how much he wanted to linger. His member prodded her thigh, thick and hard.
"It's a very bad idea. Bessie—" All words and thoughts about how much of a bad idea it was, ended when his hand cupped her sex. He gently rubbed, and she sucked in air through her teeth.
Oh!
Yesssss. There. There.
His quick, long fingers brought her close to climax, but he stopped too soon. Cruel man! She gave a small sound of protest, but he smothered it with his mouth. His hungry kiss devoured her, made everything else fade from her mind except their bodies and the pool of desire welling up inside her. He flipped her onto her back and rose above her, not breaking the kiss. His chest rubbed against her nipples, teasing them to tender, aching points. He kissed one and entered her.
She cried out as he slid all the way in. She was dimly aware that she should keep quiet and not alert the household, but the servants were so far away and Orlando was not. He was inside her, setting a methodic, deep rhythm that had her body singing.
"More." She dug her fingers into his shoulders and held on as he brought her higher, closer to the edge.
His thrusts became faster, his breathing rapid and ragged. "I have to...now..."
She felt him pull away so she pressed her feet to his buttocks and held him inside her. "Stay," she whispered between gasps.
He groaned, the low, keening sound vibrating through her body, tipping her over the edge and launching her into free-falling nothingness.
He exploded into her. The muscles in his body trembled and his eyes screwed shut. The look on his face, of sheer pleasure and fulfillment, made her climax linger.
They lay together, both breathing hard, legs and arms entwined so that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. She could feel every aftershock rocking him, feel every twitch of his muscles as if they were her own.
He kissed her throat near her ear. "I like being inside you to the very end," he murmured.
She liked it too. Very much. But not enough to take away the pain behind the reason why it was safe to spill his seed inside her—she was barren. It was such a familiar pain now, but different. It wasn't as sharp as it once was, but its aching heaviness pressed down on her heart still.
It hadn't always been so. She'd not fallen pregnant to John, her first husband, but with Phillip she'd lost a babe soon after they wed. She'd only told Phillip, her father, and Bessie who'd come to be her maidservant at Sutton Hall. She'd not even called for the wise woman. Bessie assured her that losing a babe so early happened to many women, and that she shouldn't worry.
Yet Susanna had grieved for that unborn child. It had been her first.
Her second, however, was much worse. Again, few knew she was in that state as it was very early. Phillip, however, knew. That's why his actions had been particularly shocking. He'd slapped her during their argument over her refusal to relinquish her friendships in the village. Although it hadn't been hard enough to leave a permanent mark on her cheek, she'd lost her balance and tripped over a small coffer near her feat. She'd fallen heavily to the floor. Phillip had simply walked out.
She'd gone to bed that night with a pain in her womb. The next morning, she'd woken up covered in blood. This time the wise woman had been called, but she only told Susanna what she already knew. The baby was lost. She cried for weeks and refused to see anyone, most of all Phillip. He'd only asked to visit her once, but she'd sent him away with vicious words of anger and accusation.
It was three months before he tried again. He begged forgiveness, promised not to touch her except in loving embrace. She'd allowed him into her bed because she wanted a child so much, but there had been no pleasure in the act. He'd torn her heart to shreds, and it was too late to gather up the pieces and mend it.
Despite their attempts, she remained childless until his death. Losing her second babe must have damaged her womb irreparably.
"Thank you for warming me up." Orlando's voice startled her.
She shook off her melancholy and touched his cheek. He smiled at her, a sweet, uncomplicated smile that buoyed her spirits but got her thinking again. "Thank you for reminding me," she said. "You've been avoiding my question. Where did you go?"
"Not avoiding, my suspicious little baroness." He kissed the end of her nose and rolled out of bed. He picked up the shirt he'd dropped on the rushes and pulled it over his head. "I was hungry. I went down to the kitchen."
"In your boots?" She propped herself up on an elbow and watched him.
"I didn't want my feet to get cold."
"How did they get damp?"
He picked up a boot and studied it. "I suppose they haven't dried from my afternoon walk yet." He set the boot down but instead of getting dressed, cocked his head to the side and regarded her with a curious expression. "Why the questions?"
Her gaze faltered and she pulled the coverlet up to her chin. "I...I don't know. I suppose with the intruder the other night, and now all these strangers appearing in Sutton Grange, I'm on edge."
"Susanna." He sat on the bed, causing the shirt to ride up and reveal his powerful thigh. She stared at it because it was better than staring at his eyes. Orlando's eyes had a way of pulling her into their depths and making her forget her convictions. "I had nothing to do with the person at your window the other night. I know you're frightened, but we'll find him." He smoothed the hair off her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. Her heart lurched in her chest. His touch was so gentle, his crooked smile so honest. "Don't be afraid."
She reached out and clasped his hand in her own. "I'm
not. Thank you, Orlando."
He kissed her forehead and stood. "Now, I'd better go before Bessie arrives and boxes my ears."
Susanna grinned and watched as he dressed, enjoying the performance immensely although the one where he removed his clothes was better. Once his boots were on, he picked up his cloak and draped it over his arm.
"Until later, fair maiden." He bowed elaborately and backed out of her bedchamber into the parlor beyond.
Susanna lay very still, staring at the closed door between them. Her heart had stopped in her chest and her fingers curled into the coverlet, holding on.
He had a different cloak.
The liar.
