They were open. They had captured his the moment he had seen her on the beach and they captured him now as he ploughed into her and twisted her nipple between his fingers and he came, pouring himself into her with rapid movement and he heard her cry out his name and he called out hers, and it was everything, and it was life and love, and he wanted to make love to her every day of his life.
Chapter 7
This was the worst pillow that Luke had ever slept on, and the starching was so poor that he even opened his eyes to stare at it in disgust – and discovered that his greatcoat had slipped out from under his cheek. He was lying directly on the sand.
And he was naked, covered by his large greatcoat. And he was not alone.
Without moving so as to not disturb the beautiful and equally naked woman beside him, Luke stared at the waves of red hair that covered her back, and all of his memories from the evening before came flooding back.
Adena. The beach – the island. The fire. The fish. Their passion.
A broad smile broke out on his face as he recalled the intensity of their lovemaking, and his eyes took in the gentle curve of her bottom and the way her flaming hair was peppered with sand.
He could never have believed it if he had woken up alone; would have considered her a fairy, or a mermaid perhaps, gone in the morning light after a night of passion.
And yet here she was. Completely nude, as was he, for they had fallen asleep within minutes of claiming that forbidden treasure from each other, and now it was morning, and –
Luke’s eyes widened. It was morning. The beach would be connected to the mainland now, and that meant that anyone could come here. Anyone could walk over the sandy shore and find two completely naked people, and it would not take much guesswork to comprehend what they had been up to.
He scanned the horizon, and his tense body relaxed slightly. The sun was only just coming up. The tide would still be moving, and none but the fishermen of Marshurst would be awake this early.
They had time. Not much, but enough.
“Good morning.”
Luke started, and twisted onto his side to stare into the most beautiful face he had ever seen – would he ever grow used to it?
“Good morning,” he murmured, smiling at Adena. “Did you sleep well?”
She returned his smile sleepily, her eyes slightly glazed as she rose back to conscious, and then that consciousness told her in no uncertain terms that she was completely naked.
Her mouth dropped open, and she tilted her body slightly so that it was hidden from his eyes.
“My – my clothes!” She spluttered.
Luke’s smile broadened, but he did not tease her. Who knew what sort of temper his future wife really possessed, with hair that colour?
“They are just over there,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to show her where. “And do not concern yourself, there is no one here but ourselves. We are still quite alone.”
The furrow of Adena’s brow disappeared, and a relaxed smile pinched her cheeks. “Well, that is a relief,” she said with a sigh. “I thought for a moment that we would be spotted, and forced to explain ourselves! That would have been an…interesting conversation.”
Luke returned her smile, but not as broadly. There was a sense of shame in her features, or embarrassment, he could not tell which. Perhaps she regretted what they had done – what they had felt, what they had experienced together?
But no, it was surely more simple than that. She had never been so exposed before, he had been able to tell the moment that they had kissed that she had never been with another man before. It was this vulnerability, this nakedness which disconcerted her, to be sure.
“Last night,” he began, but he was interrupted.
“Nevertheless, I should dress,” Adena said, and she rose by turning away from him, leaving him with just the sight of those long legs and her sweeping red hair. “Anyone could be along now, I suppose?”
Luke rolled onto his back, and shrugged. “I suppose so, but – ”
“And your clothes are here too, would you like them?”
He stared up at her, already halfway into her undergarments. “‘Tis a pity to hide that beauty so quickly.”
She blushed, but it was not the same as last night. This truly was embarrassment rather than pleasure at the compliment.
“Last night,” Luke persevered, “I just wanted to say – ”
“You do not need to say a word,” Adena said shortly, fumbling with her gown as she attempted to turn it the right way out and remove as much sand from it as possible. “I would think that the least said about it, the better. Do not you?”
Luke swallowed, and sat up, vaguely conscious now that he was still naked and she was almost dressed. “No,” he said simply.
Her head turned and she stared at him. “No?”
He shook his head, and rose. “Adena, I would like to see you again after we return to the mainland. Meet your family.”
There was a strange look in her eye, one that he could not decipher. She was evidently fascinated by his nude body, but felt unable to look at him. Her eyes kept glancing off it as though it was oil and she was water.
“And why,” she replied slowly, “would you want to do that?”
Luke laughed, and shook his head. “Well, is it not obvious? I wish to know you better.”
Adena caught his eye now, staring at him in an almost accusing manner. “Get to know me better?”
Luke swallowed. He wanted to marry her, he knew that, and she must do too – how could she not, after what they had shared? But he knew the rules of decorum, and it was evident that she did too. He would need to ask her father first, before he got down on one knee, and asked her the most important question of his life.
“Yes, get to know you better,” he said with a smile, and a look full of love and meaning so that she could understand him. “I would like to meet your father, and your mother. Be introduced to them, and make their acquaintance.”
She was looking at him as though he was mad, and being away from her was painful. All Luke wanted to do was sweep her into his arms and kiss her, kiss her like he had done last night. You never know, perhaps they could both enjoy a repeat performance before they returned to civilisation.
Adena must have read something of his thoughts in his expression, for she said hurriedly, “I do not think that is a good idea, my lord, and – ”
“My lord?” Luke took a step towards her – until Adena took a step back.
He stopped dead. “I am not going to hurt you.”
“I know that,” Adena replied hurriedly, seemingly unable – or unwilling – to look him in the eye. “It is just…I need to find my shawl. I think I left it further down the beach. I will return shortly.”
Without another word, she was striding down the beach, sand flowing from her steps in the light breeze, and hair billowing behind her.
Luke stared open mouthed. It was incomprehensible: to think that they had bared their souls to each other just hours before. He had revealed his tragic family history, she had told him about her arranged marriage, for want of a better word. They had made love, and she had enjoyed it, there was no possibility that he had misunderstood that.
So what had happened? Had sleep reversed the feelings that she had experienced that evening? Had the rules of society returned to her, and she had felt the impropriety of what they had shared?
Luke shook his head, and reached for his britches. Miss Adena Garland may be able to act with nonchalance after a night of lovemaking but it was not in his spirit to allow the woman he loved to simply wander off without him. She could not have made it more clear that she simply wanted to draw a line under the sand, and forget about it.
Well, if that is what she wanted, he was far too much of a gentleman to give her any concern. Perhaps she would go back to London, Luke thought savagely, and marry that man after all. She would need assurances, he supposed, to ensure that the news would never reach this man, or her family,
or society at large.
He would tell her. He would find her, and tell her that their secret would be safe with him.
But first, he really should get dressed.
* * *
Adena brushed aside the tears that were threatening to form in her eyes, and kept on walking. She would not look back. She would not give that marquis the satisfaction of knowing just how much he had hurt her.
How could he say those things to her? That he wanted to get to know her parents, without any sign, without any words of love or affection – or marriage? It was all very well to make their acquaintance, but plenty of gentleman had done so, and none but two had ever led to proposals of marriage. Her beauty had not been enough to conquer most of their disapproval at her father’s wealth from trade.
“Do not be ridiculous, Adena,” she told herself aloud, under her breath. “Marriage, what were you thinking?”
Memories from the previous night burned into her thoughts as her eyes looked around for the lost shawl. That was what she was thinking – and she could not stop thinking about it. To discover that there was such passion, such delight to be found in the body of another!
She had shared herself with him willingly, there was no doubt of that. Adena’s cheeks crimsoned to think of the wanton way that she had given herself to a man she had only just met, but was there not a meeting of minds? Had he not seemed to be the perfect man: strong yet thoughtful, practical and considerate, and oh, so handsome!
“You are a fool,” she muttered. “After all this time of attempting to hide from that stupid man, to avoid marriage, you really thought that after meeting a man for a few hours that marriage would be on the cards?”
But she had thought it. Fool she may have been, but it was a foolishness borne from romanticism, not idiocy. As her feet were kissed by the disappearing tide, Adena remembered with a smile the words that Luke had said to her.
“There is no one like you, Adena, no one – and I have wanted you, to kiss you, to pleasure you, to bring you to ecstasy, to know you intimately, because you are the most impossible and wonderful woman in the world.”
But it had not been enough. When she had awoken that morning, what words of love had he spoken? What proposal of marriage had he made? Nothing, none, no words at all.
“You could have said something yourself, but no,” Adena chastised herself, slowing her pace down now and twisting a lock of her hair around her fingers. “Far be it for you to presume on marriage.”
And yet…
Her imagination could not be tamed. She saw herself his wife, his bride, walking down the altar to meet him, welcoming friends into their home, ascending the stairs at night to return to their bed, and their passions, and their ecstasy…
“Ridiculous,” she said firmly, perhaps a little louder than she had been expecting. “If he had wanted to marry you, Adena, he would have asked you immediately. He would have known what honour had demanded, or he would have felt the desire to claim me, or…”
Or else, and these words were far too painful to say aloud, or else he simply did not wish to marry you. There you were, a woman on an island for the night, easy to seduce. You even told him that you were attracted to him, that you wanted him. You allowed him to kiss you, to undress you, to –
And here even her words gave out, and a deep blush moved across her cheeks. It had been wicked, but it had been wonderful.
Irritated with the lack of shawl and tired of striding along a beach with seemingly no end, Adena threw herself onto the sand and stared at the ocean.
Less than a day ago she was enjoying almost an identical walk along the beach. How much had changed since then!
“Adena?”
Startled, she jumped, and turned to see Luke emerging from behind a tree, holding her shawl.
“I found this under…under my greatcoat,” he said with an easy smile, and her insides squirmed to see him.
Why, she could not even be angry at him for not loving her. How could she? He was such an incredible man, and had suffered so much already. Perhaps it was easier for him never to love again, to never feel loss again.
And then a fiery spike of anger rose in her heart. Why was she making excuses for him? No one forced him to return her shawl, at any rate.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly. “I had wondered where it had got to.”
She did not beckon him closer, or invite him to sit down beside her, and yet he did both.
Smiling, he nudged her with his shoulder. “I hope you are not too hungry, but I am not sure whether any fish that I could catch or cook would be much help to you.”
Adena could not tell whether she was seething with anger, or boiling over with hurt. She nodded, and kept her eyes out to sea.
Luke seemed to be hesitating, but eventually he said in a low voice, “It should not be necessary for me to say this but…I wish to say it anyway. You do not even have to ask me to keep what happened between us last night…well, between us. No one else ever need know.”
Bitter tears sprung up in Adena’s eyes, but she blinked them away. So, he wanted to keep it an utter secret? It would certainly prevent him from needing to marry her. Why did she love this man if all he wanted to do was hurt her, leave her?
Not trusting her voice, she nodded.
“I did not know whether you needed…assurance,” he continued almost in a whisper, as though they were surrounded by others who may wish to listen in to their conversation. “So I wanted you to know that no word of this will ever escape my lips. It will…it will be as though nothing ever happened.”
Not for me, Adena wanted to cry. How do you think that I can ever go back to normal life again, knowing you as I do, knowing that you will be out there, somewhere in the world, charming the next woman whom you encounter? How can I return to my old life, without the innocence that you took from me? Knowing what pleasure we shared?
“That is very kind of you,” she replied stiffly, forcing down the flood of emotions and not taking her eyes away from the sea. “I imagine that if we ever meet in town, we can do so as indifferent acquaintances.”
For a moment, he did not say anything. Adena barely dared to breathe: was this it? Was this the moment that he declared himself?
“I will follow your lead of course, Miss Garland.” Luke spoke stiffly, and it drove a dagger into her heart. “If you wish to pretend that we have never even met, I shall oblige.”
Chapter 8
Adena swallowed. Everything that she had hoped would not come to pass was now a reality.
He did not love her. He did not even seem to like her, he seemed so willing, so happy to never see her again or claim their friendship.
It had all evidently been in her head. What she thought they had shared was just an illusion, a hope, a fantasy.
Now that she had come crashing down to earth, it was not a pleasant experience.
“The tide is almost out,” she said dully.
Her shawl was placed in her lap, and she looked down at it through misty eyes.
“So it is,” said Luke stiffly. “We should be able to get over to the mainland soon. We could wait here for a few more minutes, and then – ”
“No,” Adena said resolutely. “I would like to start now.”
The last thing that she wanted was to spend an extra minute with Luke, the Marquis of Dewsbury, if she did not have to. All this time with him was just painful; every time she looked at him, she remembered being in those arms, kissing that mouth.
“Now?” Luke replied blankly.
She did not reply, but instead rose and started to dust down the sand from her gown.
“Now,” he muttered quietly under his breath, though she caught it quite easily, and the sarcasm in his voice pulled at her heart. Could he not see the pain she was feeling?
For a moment, as Luke rose too, and brushed some dried seaweed from his linen shirt, Adena felt an overwhelming desire to tell him. Exactly what she would say, she was not quite sure. There had to be some way of telli
ng him that she had fallen painfully and irrevocably in love with him, without him feeling obliged to propose marriage to her.
Because she could not bear the thought of Luke proposing out of a misplaced sense of duty, or honour. She wanted him to want her – passionately, compulsively, as she did him.
But if she shared even a snippet of this, she knew what the outcome would be. He would propose out of respect to custom, and they would marry, and she would have to spend the rest of her life looking over at a husband who had not really wanted to marry her.
No. She would not be that selfish. She could not stand it. She would be silent, and let him return to society, free and unencumbered.
Though she would never be free of the thought of him again.
“‘Tis this way.”
Luke’s voice broke into her thoughts, and she coloured as though he could sense that he was on her mind. He was indicating the direction which she had taken to search for her shawl.
“Off we go then,” Adena tried to say without a care in the world, half knowing, half hoping that he would hear the quaver in her tones and enquire whether anything was the matter. All she needed was an opening, an excuse…
“I think you mentioned that you were staying with some friends nearby,” Luke asked her formally as they reached the wet sand near the shore and started to walk along it. “Will they be concerned about your welfare?”
Adena sighed. Back to small talk and polite conversation it was, then. It was hard to believe what they had been together for that sparkling night.
“I should think,” she replied cordially. “I imagine there may be a small search party looking for me, but I suppose that as it was just one night, they may assume that I took lodgings in Marshurst instead of returning home.”
They strode on for a few more minutes in silence as they came around a bend, and the mainland came into clearer view – as did a stretch of beach connecting them to it.
Marooned With a Marquis Page 6
