She didn’t struggle this time but was rather annoyed with herself for responding to the feel of his hard, naked body beneath her. If he wanted to hurt her he already would have.
“I came to see what you are going to do about Patrick. He is supposedly arriving tomorrow or at the latest the next day. What am I supposed to do?”
She marveled that he was not embarrassed at his nakedness or her close proximity. In fact she rather thought he liked her lying upon him, since his hand began stroking her back.
“I won’t let him hurt you or your sister.”
She looked into his eyes and saw the truth of that statement. “But what are we going to do? It would seem he’s trying to kill you.”
“I was thinking of telling him to have patience, as I am not going to marry. The estate and title will come to him or his son. However, it would appear patience is not one of his virtues.”
“He doesn’t have any virtues,” she added dryly. She pushed off his chest to look down at him. “Why would you not marry? I suspect finding a bride would not be difficult for a man like you. Lady Margaret is a lovely girl, and she’s smitten.”
“I refuse to marry someone without her knowing all my secrets. What woman would want to marry an idiot who cannot read?”
Abigail sat up and laughed. “Goodness, you might not be able to read but anyone who spends time with you knows you are not an idiot. While we are on that topic, what secret are you hiding from Patrick that is so bad he could use it against you? My mind is imagining all sorts of unflattering things.”
This time he sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “My inability to read of course.”
She frowned at him. “I can’t understand the problem if he learns the truth of that. You are worldly, intelligent, and capable. A war hero, for goodness sake.”
His mouth gaped open and he shook his head. “He could make a claim that I’m unfit to run the estate and try to get made trustee. Once he has his hands on the estate I doubt it will stay healthy for long, as it will be difficult for me to ascertain what he is doing.”
“Would he win? Could he take the estate?”
“I have to trust someone to tell me what I am signing. The courts could well decide that person should be a relative rather than a stranger.”
“Like Kit. That is what Kit does for you.”
He nodded.
She bit her bottom lip. “Worse, he’ll try doubly hard to kill you before you wed. Then he gets the title too. I suspect Reginald’s death gave him the idea. Trying to kill both of you would look suspicious—but one…”
“Absolutely. He’s on a time limit now.”
“Because he knows your mother will be pushing for you to marry soon and he can’t risk a son being born. He’s a right bastard.”
Guy raised an eyebrow. “Exactly.”
She swiveled round to lean back against the bed frame, the floor an odd place to have this conversation, odder still with Guy naked. But it felt comfortable. It felt like they had known each other for years. He moved to sit beside her, his legs bent, hiding the family jewels from her sight, but she’d had an eyeful for the past several minutes and it would seem he was impressive everywhere. “We need to catch him in the act of trying to kill you, with plenty of witnesses.”
“He won’t be stupid enough to do that himself.”
She sat thinking. Guy was right. Patrick was a devious devil. “Then we must make him. Push him too far, create an opportunity so easy he has to take it.”
“Good idea. What would make him take the risk, and in what situation could I be vulnerable?”
Sitting here with a handsome, naked man, the idea immediately came to mind. He was so tempting…She ran a finger over his shoulder and down his arm. “I can think of one situation where Patrick might believe you are very vulnerable. A secret liaison with a fallen woman.”
Guy flashed a seductive smile. “I like the way you think, Miss Pinehurst. Do you have a woman in mind?”
She shivered at the blatant sensuality in his tone. She wanted him. She didn’t care that he was an earl who could offer her nothing—not true, he could offer her pleasure.
She moved to straddle his naked body and ran a finger down his muscled chest. “Mr. Patrick Neville suggested I get close to you, seduce you to find out what you were hiding. Why don’t I give him exactly what he wants? I shall tell him the truth and let slip that I am meeting you for another liaison. He won’t be able to ignore it.”
Guy began to undo the hooks at the back of her gown. “It would not be a lie. I cannot resist you,” he whispered in her ear, sending shivers over her body. “I told you I’d love to see you spread naked over my bed.”
They stared into each other’s eyes and his hands faltered as he realized what she had offered. “You would put yourself in danger—for me?”
Something primal registered in his eyes as he asked his question. She cupped his cheek. “I wouldn’t be in danger with you and Mr. Hunter and your men to protect me. We would be prepared.” Abigail shivered, her body heating in answer to the searing awareness between them.
* * *
—
He wasn’t even trying to resist what she was offering. The passion and desire between them was too strong. He could feel the heat rolling off her still-clothed body and his groin roared to life. He loved how she sat talking to him while he was naked as if they had done so a hundred times before.
Since their liaison in the field his hunger to taste her had grown. Sore ribs or not, he would have her in his bed tonight and his body thrummed with suppressed need. She felt the same. He saw it in her eyes, and felt it in his blood. He bent his head slowly and pressed his lips to the curve of her neck.
She squirmed on his lap, pressing her core closer to his erection. “Oh, God, please, Guy. I want you so much.” She gripped his shoulders and pressed closer. “This one night is ours, if you want me.”
If he wanted her? Christ, his body wept for her. He found her lips like a slave in her thrall. She curled her hand around his nape and pulled him to kiss him in fevered desperation. He let her lead with total willingness. Capturing his mouth with a furious hunger that burned up his senses and melted his wits.
But he wanted her naked. Wanted to see, touch, and taste every inch of her bare skin.
He continued to undress her as she consumed his tongue with scorching intensity, clearly wanting, needing this as badly as he did. No woman had excited or aroused him as she did.
Passion took over. Want poured through him and consumed every inch until he didn’t know where she began and he ended.
The only cloud hovering was the realization that she could never be his. Not in any honorable way, and for a split second he wished there could be more. He shook off the despair of knowing she would be perfect for him to take to wife. Given her station in life she would overlook his inability to be able to read. Could society look past the fact she was a commoner—being poor was not a crime. The idea he might be able to offer more lent an edge of crazed urgency to every touch.
Finally he drew back and took his first look at her naked body. Her breasts were full and her nipples, a dusty pink, were large and stiff—eager for him to suckle.
His mouth watered. He wanted to see more, but his sore ribs meant he didn’t have the strength to scoop her off the floor. “I’d be more comfortable on the bed.”
She looked down at him and smiled. “But I have more control here.”
“Won’t you take pity on a wounded man? I want to see all of you spread over my bed. It is a memory I will cherish forever.”
His words found their target, for she rose and helped him stand. They stood facing each other, neither uncomfortable in their nakedness. But soon his need of her overtook his desire to look his fill.
He maneuvered until he could push her gently back on the bed. His member throbbed like it would burst as he pressed her down and she sunk into his bed. His bed! She was in his bed and it felt right.
Sinking onto his
knees before her, he was stunned by the unexpected depth of his feelings for her. She’d slipped under his skin in such a short time. He’d never had such a connection with any woman before. Maybe because he’d always kept a piece of himself back, knowing he had this secret affliction. But Abigail knew and didn’t care.
He trembled, almost scared to touch her, yet her soft moan drove his desire higher.
“You are so beautiful. Every inch of you is exactly how I pictured but more glorious.” He ran a finger over the tip of her breast and down her stomach, stopping to trace the faint lines that were marking her stomach.
She lay propped on her hands, watching him as he kissed her stomach all over before nuzzling her plump, lovely breasts until he reached her turgid nipple. His mouth latched on and suckled deep and she began a soft pant. All the while his hands roamed her long legs and rounded hips.
He moved to her other nipple and she tipped her head back, reveling in his attentions. Her porcelain skin flushed under his ministrations, her lips swollen and luscious pink from his earlier attentions.
He loved the little sounds she made as his lips began their journey lower. A light, breathless laugh escaped her as he skimmed them over her hip bone. He felt her limbs tense with anticipation the closer he got to her heated core.
His fingers found her dewy center and he watched her face as he reverently parted the delicate curls that veiled her womanhood and stroked. She held her breath as his head lowered to join his finger. He drank in her scent, the musky fragrance, the perfume of her readiness for him, saw him almost lose his self-control. He wanted this to last. He wanted to make love to her all night long so that she would never forget him, or perhaps so he would never forget her.
His hands slipped under her bottom. Spreading her thighs wide he finally tasted her. Her gasp filled his bedchamber and he thought it the most beautiful sound in the world. He wanted to hear it all day and night if he could.
She was smooth and sweet and pebbled hard as he ran his tongue over and around her fiery center. Drinking her in, he caressed her silky body as her hips began to move under his intimate touch. Her sighs and every increasing soft moan told him how much she was enjoying his lovemaking and it spurred him on. As he traced her hardened jewel over and over, he slipped her slender thigh over his shoulder, opening her more deeply for his thrusting tongue.
She was such a responsive lover. She flowed wet and warm for him like a rich deep burgundy wine, intoxicating all his senses. He drank deeply, her cries demonstrating that he was driving her ever higher, ever nearer to her release. He wanted to hear and watch her come so badly…
Her hands sunk into his hair. “Oh, Guy!” Her trembling told him how close she was and he wanted to feel her body pulse around him. He rose up over her and her eyes flew open. She was about to protest when he slid deep within her and her eyes rolled back in her head.
The first time making love to her would not take long. With her tight sheath holding him, the taste of her on his lips and her soft pleas to move, he was struggling not to come before her. He wanted to come with her.
He moved slowly at first until her legs wrapped around his back, urging him on. Soon he was lost. Lost in the heat of her, and he was thrusting harder and faster. Her nails scored his shoulders as she threw back her head and screamed his name. At that instant his mind flew to heaven as her orgasm sent him spiraling into his own release. He fell on top of her, both of them breathing heavily. He could stay like this forever.
“That was unbelievable.”
He rolled to the side, ignoring his protesting ribs, preening like a peacock. “We still have the rest of the night, my sweet.”
Drowsy laughter tumbled from her lips as she languished in the aftermath of pleasure. “Promises, my lord. Don’t look so smug, as I shall hold you to them.”
He swept his hand over her silky skin. “Just give me a few moments. I will make you scream my name over and over next time.” He meant every word. Even though he’d come with a force he’d not experienced before, lust was still ragging in his blood.
“I’d forgotten how wonderful the release from pleasure is,” she said softly.
Abigail was right. But what struck a chord was that underlying the pleasure were feelings. He really liked her, perhaps more than he should. She was the first woman he’d made love to who knew he could not read, and she had not cared. She didn’t think him an imbecile. She actually thought him intelligent.
“Thank you,” he whispered as he pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder.
She turned to look at him. “It was my pleasure.”
“No. Thank you for not caring.”
She rose up on her elbows, a frown on her face. “I do care for you. Probably more than I should. I’m likely to get my heart stomped on.”
“You are the first woman I’ve made love to that knew my secret. I mean thank you for not thinking I’m an oddity, or an imbecile for not being able to read or write. Thank you for accepting me the way I am.”
“Oh, Guy.” With a melting look she rolled onto her side to face him and ran her fingers through his fringe. “All of us hide secrets, things we are ashamed of, and yet we rise above them to live wonderful lives. Look at all you have achieved in your life. You’ve survived an abusive childhood, you had a successful military career, and now you are proudly running this estate. Dora, through Kit, told me about the Merino sheep you brought back from Spain. No one else had the forethought to do that. Kit says you will revolutionize wool production in England. I admire you more because you have achieved all of this without the ability to read.”
Oh, my, God. I’m in love with her. The realization shocked him as it flashed in his mind. What was also so very clear was that the differences in their stations didn’t matter to him. He was not perfect, he was damaged. He was not so proud that he did not recognize that just because she was a commoner who had made something of her life he could not take her for his wife. What did he care what society thought. He was sick to his stomach of having to worry about his secret coming out. If he had a woman who loved him by his side, and his true friends such as Kit, and his family, he didn’t need anyone else.
He would be more than content to marry Abigail and settle here in the country for the rest of his life. His heart surged to dizzying heights.
“Will you marry me?” He hadn’t meant to blurt it out but his heart was so full he couldn’t help it.
Chapter 13
Abigail sunk back onto the soft bed. “What did you just say?” She must have not heard correctly? She hoped she had not heard correctly.
“Marry me. Become my countess.”
She closed her eyes against the pain his words caused. A dream. This was a dream and at any moment she would wake.
“I’ve never met a woman like you. A woman who makes my heart sing. We could live here and have a wonderful life.”
“By hiding from the world.” That is what he meant. He meant it didn’t matter if he married her because he hid himself from the world, ashamed of his secret affliction.
He rolled over onto his back and looked at the ceiling. “Not hiding exactly. I have seen much of this world and it’s not a nice place. I feel content here. I want to make something of my life with my tenants and family.”
The idea of marriage to Guy held great appeal, especially if Dora was to wed Kit. But it was ludicrous. The alarming truth was, the only thing that stopped her from screaming yes was that he did not know all of her past. She was too ashamed to tell him.
She had seen the commitment in his eyes. He cared for her. Oh, she was sure part of the attraction was she knew his truth and didn’t care. He probably thought she would be flattered enough that an earl had offered for her, and unlike a lady of means, she’d overlook his inability to read and write. And she was, and did. But if he discovered her true background…Abigail knew she might lose his affection and she did not wish to be married to a man whose only use for her was children, and that she knew his secret and didn’t care.
At the same time, Patrick Neville was arriving and he was a real threat. What would that evil man do if he learned she was marrying Guy?
Everything felt so precarious and unreal. She rolled away from him and made to rise. He reached out a hand to stop her, his face a mask of hurt.
“I think we should have this conversation once we have dealt with Patrick. He can’t learn you wish to marry me. It would make me, or Dora, a target as well as you and we can’t cover all of us safely.”
He squeezed her arm. “But you will think on it. If it’s Mother you are worried about, don’t be. She likes you and will see the sense in the match.”
He didn’t mean his words to hurt her but the barb hit hard in her chest. “Sense in the match” because he was damaged. That was the only reason he would ever have deemed to offer her marriage, and the only reason his mother would accept her. Was that enough?
Silly girl. God help her, she wanted him to love her. She was sure he cared for her, but at the moment his offer was merely because he was scared no one else would accept him, not because he loved her with all his heart and could not live without her.
She chose to ignore his comment but she did lie back down. The woman in her didn’t want to leave. She wanted to recapture the passion they shared and block out the future that saw her leaving alone.
She sighed. “When Patrick arrives you will have to behave as is befitting the station between us. He will get suspicious if you are too attentive.”
He nodded.
She rolled to face him. “I think we should let him accidently see us stealing a few kisses once or twice so that when I say you have fallen under my spell he believes me. I shall tell him that you are meeting me at some cottage, and that I hope to learn your secret then. Do you think that will be enough to make him come for you?”
“A tryst? I would certainly be vulnerable naked in your bed. I hate to say it, but he would probably kill you too, maybe even make it look like you did it—broken heart perhaps. You could hardly reveal his threat of spying on me if you were dead. Yes, I do believe he will not be able to resist that opportunity.”
Attracted to the Earl Page 12
