by Bold, Diana
Even Allison, whom Fiona had thought to be quite obnoxious the last time they’d met, gave her a little smile and went out of her way to be kind.
The rest of the evening passed in a haze of laughter and camaraderie. Fiona couldn’t remember when she’d enjoyed a night more. They made her feel as though she belonged, and she’d been longing for that her entire life. The thought of becoming part of this family was extremely tempting. She could almost believe it would be worth the possibility of social ridicule to be a part of this forever.
THOUGH FIONA HAD INSISTED upon arriving alone, she agreed to allow Morgan to accompany her home. Relieved by the way the entire evening had gone, Morgan held her tightly against him in the closed coach all the way back to Brookhaven, enjoying the closeness and simply breathing her in. They didn’t talk much, but the silence felt comfortable.
A lot had changed between them over the course of the evening, and he was still somewhat surprised that she’d agreed to allow him to court her. He hadn’t been at all certain that she would.
When they finally pulled up in front of Brookhaven, he took her hand, staring into her lovely eyes, his heart beating hard in his chest. “I’m not ready for the night to end just yet. Do you mind if I come inside for a while?”
She swallowed, and his gaze was drawn to the slim column of her throat, remembering how it had felt to run his lips across that smooth skin.
“Yes,” she said at last. “I’m not ready to let it end either.”
Elated, he helped her down from the coach, the air between them crackling with the weight of their attraction for each other. He’d never felt anything so powerful, and he wanted to explore it.
How long had it been since he’d last had sex? It shamed him to admit that he couldn’t remember the last time between him and Anne. Their lovemaking had never been memorable, truth to tell.
He wondered now, how much of that had been his fault. It certainly hadn’t been Anne’s. She’d been raised to believe that sex was only for the purpose of procreation, lying there stiff as a board until he’d finished. He hadn’t known how to help her relax, how to make her believe it didn’t have to be a chore, something distasteful to be endured.
However, the encounters he’d had so far with Fiona made him think she would be pure fire if they ever made love.
Unfortunately, his mind latched on to what Fiona had said earlier about not being able to have children. Although it didn’t bother him to not have more children, he suddenly wondered what sort of accident would leave her injured in such a way.
A pall fell over his mood suddenly, and he wished that Adrian had told him more about Fiona’s past. What sort of horrors had she been through before she and Adrian had met?
For that matter, how had she and Adrian met? He still greatly feared that she’d been one of Prometheus’s rescues.
Despite his intense attraction to her, he realized there was very much about Fiona that he did not yet know.
Several dark thoughts intruded on his former euphoria, but he shook them away. It didn’t matter. How could he hold anything in Fiona’s past against her, when he himself had done murder?
With a groan, he forced away the ancient guilt and fear. He could not be upset with Fiona for keeping her secrets when he had such a big one of his own.
Soon they were in Brookhaven’s sitting room, comfortably ensconced on the couch before the fire where they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms a few weeks ago. She’d poured them both a glass of a passable red wine, and they sipped their drinks quietly, staring into the flames. She sat a bit apart from him, and as much as he wanted to pull her tighter against him, he knew it was best to let her be. He’d already shattered a lot of her walls tonight.
At last, she turned to look at him, her eyes troubled. “I’m not a virgin, Morgan.”
His heart plummeted, not because of what she’d said but because he very much feared that whoever had taken her innocence had done so cruelly. “Neither am I,” he finally said, in a poor attempt at levity. “I don’t care,” he added, more seriously. “Nothing that happened before we met has any bearing on my feelings for you.”
Her eyes welled with tears. “You don’t understand—”
He pressed his finger to her lips, stopping her. “You can tell me if you want. But you don’t have to. It doesn’t matter now.”
She bit her lip, and the relief in her eyes made him know he’d done the right thing. He hoped that someday she’d be ready to reveal her secrets but perhaps it was too soon.
He held out his arm, and she scooted close to him, laying her head upon his shoulder. He hugged her tight to his side, wishing he could somehow fix all the wrongs that had been done to her. As she slowly began to relax against him, he started to rub her neck again, and soon she was making those soft little sounds of pleasure he’d grown to love so much.
“Do you know how safe you make me feel?” she asked at last. “How cared for and cherished?” A helpless little laugh escaped her. “I know that doesn’t sound like much, but to me, it is everything. I never thought I could trust someone the way I trust you.”
His heart swelled with a strange sort of pride, because he knew that in her mind, she’d just paid him the highest compliment she could ever give. “I am going to try my best to earn that, Fiona.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, feeling a sense of connection he’d never had with anyone. Though their lives had been very different thus far, they somehow understood each other, and feeling understood was a powerful thing.
She shivered and pulled slightly away, staring up into his eyes with haunting vulnerability. “Will you come up to my room with me, Morgan? Will you make love to me?”
He caught his breath, all the desire he’d been trying to hold back surfacing in a heated rush. “I would love to,” he whispered. “More than anything. But I don’t think you’re ready.”
With a trembling hand, she cupped his cheek. “I don’t know if I’ll ever truly be ready. But I need to know if I can ever give you this part of me, because it wouldn’t be fair to you to continue on down this path if I can’t.”
That seemed a tremendous amount of pressure to put on something that should be spontaneous and passionate, but he was determined to give her whatever she needed to feel comfortable with him. The last thing he wanted was for his relationship with her to devolve into what he’d had with Anne. She was right. They needed to make sure that the physical side was possible before they moved forward.
He put his hand over hers and leaned into her touch. “We will only go as far as you want. We can stop at any point. You can trust me, Fiona. I promise.”
A tremulous smile tilted her lush lips. “I know. I wouldn’t be suggesting this if I didn’t believe in you.”
“I believe in you, too,” he told her softly. “You are strong and brave and beautiful. I know you can overcome anything, and I want to be the one to help you try.”
Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against his with sweet intensity. He let himself get lost in the taste and feel of her, trying to forget how much was on the line, how much he stood to lose if he couldn’t make this perfect for her.
At last, she pulled away and got unsteadily to her feet, holding out her hand.
He was none too steady on his own feet as he took it and let her pull him through the dark house and up to the attic.
Chapter Thirteen
As Fiona led Morgan into the small room in the attic that she called her own, she still couldn’t believe she was doing this. She’d never expected that she would find someone who sparked love within her, let alone passion. Morgan made her feel both things, and she couldn’t let her fear ruin this. She somehow had to find the courage that he saw in her and prove that she truly did trust him.
She fumbled to find the candle that she used for light, since the attic hadn’t been wired for electricity, but the moment the small space brightened with its flame, she saw it through the eyes of someone who’d been brought up the way he had. She suddenly
wished she’d taken him somewhere else.
“My God, Fiona. How can you live like this?” he asked quietly, surveying the tiny room with its sloped ceiling, one small window, and complete lack of insulation. A small bed, hardly big enough to hold both of them, stood near the window, and her meager wardrobe hung on pegs on the wall.
The room was sweltering in the summer and freezing in the winter, but it was a paradise after the way she’d grown up, and it was one of the few places in the house that wasn’t constantly teeming with children. She’d always liked the privacy her attic room gave her, and she slept so little, she’d never really cared where.
She crossed her arms defensively. “There’s nothing wrong with it. I’ve lived in worse places.”
He frowned and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I just know that this is not what Adrian would want for you. The others who work here don’t live up here, do they? Aren’t there other rooms below where you’d be more comfortable?”
“I don’t need anything more than this,” she said with a sigh. “Perhaps this was a mistake. It just proves how far beneath you I—”
Before she could finish, he grabbed her and kissed her fiercely, silencing all further protests and making her forget all about her room. As they kissed, he shuffled back toward the bed, ducking so that he didn’t bang his head on the rafters, until he tumbled them both onto the hard mattress. She lay sprawled half on top of him, staring down into his serious face.
“Forgive me for being such an ass,” he told her. “I don’t want to do anything to ruin tonight. I won’t say another word about it. But I want better than this for you, darling. I want to give you all the things I now see I’ve taken for granted.”
“I don’t need things,” she told him, just as seriously. “Give me passion, friendship, safety. A family.”
“All of that and more,” he promised and kissed her again.
This time, she let herself get lost in it, kissing him until she was dizzy, until everything else fell away. In all the world, there was only her and this incredibly kind and beautiful man. He tasted of brandy and sunshine, of sweetness and passion, and none of the fear or hesitation she’d expected rose up to haunt her.
In her heart, she knew this would be nothing like the times when she’d been younger. He’d shown her nothing but care and kindness, and she had no reason to believe he’d become any different when they were making love. She believed good men existed. She had ever since Adrian had saved her.
He finally broke the kiss and stared up at her, spreading his arms wide and making himself completely vulnerable to her. “I would like to touch you,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’d like to explore every inch of you and let you explore me as well. Do you feel ready for that?”
The picture his words painted made her toes curl once again with that unexpected desire, and she could only nod jerkily. He’ll stop if I tell him to. I believe him. I have to believe him.
She eased away from him and stood beside the bed, nervously stripping out of her beautiful gown and laying it across the lone chair in the corner of the room. He watched her hungrily, and as she disrobed, he did as well, sitting up and shrugging out of his fine linen shirt and trousers and tossing them on the chair beside her dress.
In a matter of moments, they were both down to their undergarments. She started to remove those as well, but he shook his head and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward him, until she stood between his knees. “May I?” he murmured, tugging at the hem of her chemise.
She nodded wordlessly, and he pulled it over her head, leaving her bare except for the silk stockings she’d bought especially for tonight.
He drew back just a bit, studying her, and heat crept through her entire body. She’d always thought herself too pale, too freckly, too curvy. She wanted to cover herself with her hands, but she knew this was an exercise in trust as well.
After a moment, he made a soft, sweet sound of approval. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you, Fiona. You take my breath away.”
Mustering her courage, she lifted her hands to his bare chest, loving the feel of his smooth, warm skin. “You’re beautiful, too, Morgan. Inside and out.”
He laughed softly and drew her against him, letting her breasts press against his chest, hugging her tightly. “Thank you for trusting me,” he breathed. “Thank you for being so brave.”
Then he tugged her down on the bed beside him, lying next to her on his side, propped up on one elbow. Holding her gaze, he cupped her cheek, then trailed his hand lightly down the column of her throat, skating over her collarbone, then lightly encircling her breast.
She closed her eyes, unable to bear the intensity in his, trying to let go of all her thoughts and simply feel. He expertly caressed her breasts, learning every inch of them before letting his hands trail even lower, and then starting all over again with his lips. She found herself sighing and moaning, making noises that embarrassed her but also expressed her pleasure more than words ever could.
He seemed to understand her wordless entreaties, gently worshipping her belly, then nudging her thighs apart. “I’m going to touch you where you need it most,” he whispered, his voice shredded and raw. “Tell me if I do anything you don’t like, darling. I swear I’ll stop.”
And then his finger was exploring her folds, which were embarrassingly wet. He slid a fingertip effortlessly inside her, making her cry out with surprise and pleasure. He caught her cry with his mouth, kissing her deeply, thrusting into her mouth with his tongue while he mimicked the action with his finger.
Then he found a spot that she’d never known existed and flicked his thumb over it gently while adding a second finger to the one inside her. She gasped and bucked beneath him, unsure what was happening but wanting... needing... something.
Then she was suddenly soaring, flying, exploding... The intensity of this new and wondrous sensation stunned her, made her clutch his back as her body bucked and thrashed beneath him. She broke the kiss with a strangled cry of ecstasy.
She slowly came back to herself, stunned by what had just happened. She’d never understood why a woman would ever want to be with a man in this way. She’d never even imagined it could be like this. And now, she understood suddenly, that what had been done to her in the past did not even resemble what lovemaking could be between two people who cared for each other.
“Thank you,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. “I never knew it could be so beautiful.”
He pressed his forehead to hers, then gently kissed her, showing her without words the deep emotion she sensed was also roiling within him. Then she realized that he had not yet taken his own pleasure, and some of her euphoria evaporated. She knew she needed to allow him to do so but wasn’t sure exactly what he expected of her.
Before she could voice the question, he began touching her and kissing her again, building her passion once more to a fever pitch. However, this time, he positioned himself above her, staring down at her with those piercing blue eyes as he took himself in his hand and rubbed his hard shaft against her, making her squirm with need.
“Tell me that you want me,” he whispered hoarsely. “I need to know you want this. If you don’t, it’s all right. Just tell me.”
She gazed up at him, her heart in her throat, stunned that he was willing to stop even now. “Yes,” she breathed. “I want you, Morgan. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
He made a soft sound of pleasure and then thrust forward, sheathing himself deep within her. She gasped and hugged him tightly to her, amazed by how good it felt. He seemed a part of her, in a way that she’d never felt before.
“Perfect,” he gasped. “Absolutely perfect.”
For several long moments, they just stared into each other’s eyes, and a thousand wordless things passed between them. She’d never felt more alive, more present, and the intimacy of it all both thrilled and terrified her.
At l
ast, he began to move, angling himself so that his body rubbed against that sensitive spot he’d touched before. That intense pleasure began to build again, even stronger this time, until she reached the pinnacle and crossed over, crying out with ecstasy.
He shuddered and gasped, clasping her to him tight as he found his peak as well.
Completely spent and pleasured, she fell asleep holding him tightly against her.
AFTER THEIR AMAZING lovemaking, Morgan found himself drifting in and out of sleep, Fiona tucked beside him in the tiny bed. She’d fallen deeply asleep, and he didn’t want to wake her, but his arm was tingling, and he had to be gone before dawn. The last thing he wanted was to ruin her reputation with the others who worked at Brookhaven.
But the entire night had been so perfect. He didn’t want to let her go.
She’d been pure magic in his arms, just as he’d suspected she would be. The chemistry and fire between them was like nothing he’d ever experienced.
Despite whatever reservations she’d had in the beginning, she’d trusted him enough to open herself to him completely, and he knew what a precious gift that was. He only prayed that the entire experience had been as wonderful for her as it had been for him and that he’d managed to exorcise some of the ghosts of her past.
He'd definitely managed to rid himself of some of his. He’d made sure to put her pleasure first, which she’d made incredibly easy. She’d been open enough to the experience to allow him to experiment with some of the things he’d heard about through the years, things Anne would never have allowed him to try.
A blast of chill wind came through the eaves, and he shivered, pulling the blanket farther up around them. It hurt him to think she’d been living this way, a little refugee in the attic. He wanted so badly to make her life better, to give her all the things his wealth and privilege could buy, even though she obviously didn’t think she needed them. He couldn’t even imagine what her childhood had been like if she was content with so little.
