A Reluctant Bride (The Shelley Sisters Book 1)

by Jess Michaels

  Thomasina managed to jerk her gaze from Jasper and looked at her sister. “He will go to Scotland. He’ll look for Anne at last.”

  Juliana nodded and squeezed Thomasina’s fingers lightly. “At last we may know something of what happened to her.” She glanced at Jasper briefly. “Thank you, my lord. I’ll go help him ready to leave.”

  She exited the parlor, leaving Jasper and Thomasina alone. His chest hurt as he stared at her. She wanted so desperately to know about Anne’s escape. And he had information. But it was so open ended, with such a lack of good news…could he share that with her without hurting her even more? She already cringed at the idea of Anne being harmed, being used. There was little he had discovered to ease her pain. To know Anne was with yet another stranger, another villain…it would only solidify that terror.

  And it was more than that which made him withhold what he knew. He wasn’t certain he wanted to give up what a villain his own brother had been. Because Solomon’s failings were stamped all over every single thing he had uncovered.

  He didn’t have to decide. Once her sister departed, Thomasina stepped up to him, her hand extended. He watched as she folded her fingers around his and lifted his hand to her lips. She kissed his palm and his cock twitched in response to the seemingly innocent graze of lips.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “Yes I did. Truth be told, I should have done it a week and a half ago. The moment we discovered your sister’s escape. I merely hoped he would do the right thing on his own.”

  “Because you judge him at the same level that you hold yourself,” she said. “But he is not half the man you are.”

  Now those questions, those guilty feelings, rose up in his chest even higher in the face of her compliments. She offered him trust and he was betraying it.

  “Thomasina,” he began, uncertain how to tell her what he knew. But knowing in that moment that he had to do it. At least give her a kernel.

  She lifted up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips to his, silencing him. He wrapped his arms around her, sinking into the pleasure and relief just the gentlest touch provided. Knowing he shouldn’t surrender to her but needing it like he needed breath or water or food.

  She was his sustenance.

  She remained in his arms even as she broke the kiss and looked up into his face. He saw everything in her eyes then. Her trust, her hopes and her love. He saw that she loved him, and instead of frightening him, it gave him joy. He’d never earned the love of most of his closest companions. He’d sought it but never attained that moment of true acceptance.

  And here it was, on her beautiful face.

  “No one has been my champion for a long time,” she said softly. “I didn’t know how much I wanted one until you began to take on the role. But I have very little to reward you with, fair knight. Except to take you up to my bed and show you what it means to me to have you push my father beyond his most cruel and selfish desires.”

  His lips parted. Take her to bed. Let her connect with him the only way he fully knew how. And when it was over, he would tell her the truth. Or at least part of it. That was what he had to do. He could only hope that shocking love he’d seen on her face wouldn’t be erased by the things he had to say.

  Thomasina’s hands shook as she shut the chamber door behind them and turned to face her husband. A week of pretending she didn’t care, of distancing herself from him as he’d asked, had been nearly impossible. So many times she had wanted to go to him and curl into his life. So many times she had wanted to comfort him.

  But now, after watching him put her father in his place at last, she couldn’t hold back. She needed connection and this was the only way he would allow it. With a shuddering sigh, she moved to him. He opened his arms without hesitation and she stepped into the space there, loving how she fit against him perfectly, dreaming that was by design. His mouth found hers and she lifted into him, seeking passion and pleasure.

  But he seemed to have other ideas. He cupped her chin and drew back so that his lips were only brushing hers. “Slow,” he whispered against her mouth. “Please.”

  The please was what did her in. If he asked, she couldn’t deny him. Not in this, not in anything else. She knew her own weakness. She could own it and revel in it.

  She nodded, the act brushing their lips together. “Slow,” she repeated.

  He tilted his head, angling his mouth against hers. The kiss deepened and she drowned in it. Drowned in him as they stood like that for what felt like an eternity. His hands fisted against her back, his passion restrained, and she shivered against him in anticipation.

  “Turn around,” he ordered, his voice rough as he broke his mouth from hers.

  She followed the demand, putting her back to him. She bent her head forward and he pressed a kiss to her hairline, then lower until he reached the edge of her gown. She pushed back against him with a gasp as sensation jolted through her. He made it all seem so easy to want him. To want them.

  He unbuttoned her gown, continuing to kiss along the skin he exposed there, the silky fabric of her chemise. When he pushed the dress forward, she wiggled out of it and heard him let out a little groan.

  She peeked over her shoulder as he cupped her hips, rubbing his hands over the fabric and her skin beneath, rocking her against him as he wordlessly looked at her.

  “I’m never going to tire of seeing you like this, of touching you like this,” he growled, suddenly possessive and dark.

  Her eyes widened. “You can’t promise that.”

  He slowly turned her so she faced him again. He cupped her cheeks and met her stare. “Yes, yes I can. I can promise that because I know that it’s true. You will always be desired, Thomasina. I will always crave you and the only thing that will set me free is touching you. And watching you come. And feeling you around me and in my arms. Forever.”

  Her heart thudded at that vow, spoken as seriously as the ones that had made her his wife had been. Only this one was more personal. And while it might not be the declaration of deepest love that she secretly wished for, it was certainly a step she hadn’t thought he would take and definitely not so soon.

  Her hands shook as she lifted them to cover his. “And I will always set you free, Jasper. I will always welcome you.”

  She lifted to him and he met her halfway. Their mouths collided again, this time not slow or gentle as they had begun. This time she felt his need, she felt his desire…she felt a hint of desperation that she didn’t fully understand. But she would take it. That hungry desire for her was something she would always take, even though she wanted more. But for now, it was what he gave and she had to be satisfied with that.

  Jasper’s heart throbbed as he slid his fingers beneath the thin straps of Thomasina’s chemise and dragged it down her body in one smooth motion. There was nothing more powerful than unwrapping the gift that was her body. And it was a gift, just as she was a gift that had been unexpected in his life but was most definitely wanted.

  He stepped back as the chemise pooled at her feet with her gown. She wore no drawers beneath, so she was naked now. Naked and achingly beautiful. He reached out to trace a hand along the curve of her breast. When he stroked over her nipple, she arched with a hiss of pleasure.

  The smile that curved his lips was not something he could control. She did that to him, along with so many other things. He was beginning to forget what his life had been like before all that. It was certainly a sharp demarcation in his life. Before Thomasina and After Thomasina.

  He leaned in and swirled his tongue where his hand had been. Immediately her fingers went into his hair and she held him closer, gasping out his name with that hitch of breath that let him know he drove her wild. She drove him wild, too. He wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her flush against his entirely clothed body. He loved how her soft curves flowed against him, molded to him. She shared her warmth and her light without asking for anything in return. He still wanted t
o give it to her.

  “Lie on the bed,” he rasped, rubbing his chin against her breast so she could feel the faint hint of whiskers abrading the sensitive skin.

  She nodded and pulled from his arms, taking her place against his pillows. She watched as he divested himself of all his clothes, her pupils dilating and obliterating the green as her desire mounted. He kept his gaze on hers as he finished stripping naked and held out his arms.

  “You do love this show,” he said with a laugh.

  She smiled up at him. “It is my favorite of all time.”

  His smile fell, for he knew it was the truth, even though it was said in jest. What a gift that was, to know what he meant to her. No one had cared for him as steadfastly as she did. He’d pretended he didn’t want that.

  Now that he had it, he didn’t want to lose it. His mind fled again to all he knew about Anne’s disappearance. All the times Thomasina had asked him for more information and he had pretended not to have it. All the times he’d lied by omission and distraction and failed to deserve the faith she placed in him.

  “Oh, don’t do that,” Thomasina purred as she sat up and caught his hand, dragging him toward the bed. “Don’t run away in your mind just when I can’t wait for you any longer.”

  “I would never do that,” he promised, pushing aside his troubling thoughts.

  After, he would tell her. It was time to offer that vulnerability in the face of all she had given him. It was time to accept that she was his partner and deserved to be part of his search.

  For now he kissed her ankle as he joined her on the bed. He dragged his tongue along her calf, hesitating as he rubbed his chin on her knee, stroking his fingers along the back. Her eyes squeezed shut and she shivered at that touch. One of many he had found drove her wild. God how he loved exploring them all, inch by inch.

  He moved higher, parting her legs as he kissed a soft trail to the apex of her thighs. He could already scent her desire, sweet and heady. He opened her wide, draping her legs over his shoulders. She lifted to him, no longer shy or shocked by this.

  “Please,” she murmured.

  “Always,” he said as he licked her. Her flavor burst on his tongue, earthy and sweet, and for a long time he feasted on her flesh, stroking her with long, languid licks as she keened and murmured his name. Eventually those licks grew shorter and more focused as he slowly circled her clitoris and drew her toward release. She grasped the coverlet, twisting it until her knuckles went white. Her neck strained and he watched as she fell over the edge of her orgasm. Her sheath fluttered beneath his mouth and he drove her on and on, relentless in his pursuit of her pleasure even when she was twitching and begging with wordless murmurs.

  His cock felt hard as steel, and at last he could wait no longer. He caught her hands, pulling her into a seated position. He sat back, wrapping her legs around his waist as he shifted her over his cock. They were face to face now, as intimate as they could be. Her gaze held his as she took him inside, inch by wet, tight inch.

  He could barely contain himself as he rocked her closer, fitting himself to the hilt in her still fluttering body. She massaged him, the perfect wet wrapping for his cock. And as she tilted her head and kissed him, licking her own juices from his lips and tongue, he cupped her backside and began to grind her over him in slow, circular thrusts.

  Immediately he was on the edge. That was what she did to him. Excited him to a lack of control, tempted him like a green boy with his first woman.

  She clung to him, grinding down in time to his thrusts, moving with him like waves on the ocean as they built together to climax. He felt it coming, saw it in the strain on her face, the squeeze of her body around him. He kissed her as it exploded, sucking her tongue as she moaned into his mouth and rode harder, faster, her sheath squeezing him and milking him to his own release.

  He tightened his arms around her as he came, pushing up into her, as pleasure arced through his entire body, releasing all the strain and worry from his being as he claimed her.

  And as they collapsed back together on his bed, he found a tiny bit of peace.

  Thomasina lay on her side, gently tracing patterns on her husband’s bare chest. Jasper had fallen asleep almost immediately after they made love. His face was now relaxed in slumber, his body no longer the coiled mass of tension and worry. She had given him that gift, she knew it.

  She was proud of it.

  And he deserved to rest after what he’d said to her father. He’d been a champion for Anne and for all who had been left behind by her foolish decisions. And when Jasper looked at her across the room, Thomasina knew without a doubt he’d done it for her.

  She pushed to her feet and found the tangled mess of her dress. With a shake of her head, she tossed it back on the floor and instead caught up his shirt. She tugged it over her head and fastened a few buttons, loving how the scent of him clung to the fabric, sinking into her skin like his body heat.

  She moved across his room, looking at all the little items that made this place his home. A few miniatures of his family, Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe, and a candle worn down to the nub.

  She moved to his dressing table. There were a few bottles along the top, tonics and waters. She touched the tops gently, wondering what he did with them all as he sat here preparing himself for the day. There were two small drawers in the table, and she tugged one open absently. A comb and a brush were within, with fine onyx handles.

  She opened the other drawer and paused. There was a stack of letters there, and she realized she was intruding on his private items. Things not meant to be shared with her. She was about to close the drawer and back away when she noticed a name written in a firm hand in the middle of a sentence on the page on the top of the stack.

  Miss Anne Shelley.

  Her hands shook as she drew the letter from the drawer and turned it over to start reading from the beginning.

  Chapter 19

  Jasper opened his eyes with a contented sigh. He rarely allowed himself a nap in the middle of the day, but after making love to Thomasina, it was impossible not to need the respite. Now he felt refreshed as he rubbed his eyes and sat up to find her.

  When he did, his heart began to pound. She was sitting at his dressing table in just his shirt, the chair pivoted to face the bed. In her hand was one of the letters from Reynolds. The rest were stacked beside her on the tabletop. Her face was pale, her cheeks streaked with tears, and she was staring at him as if she had never seen him before. As if she didn’t know him at all.

  And he knew in that moment what she had done, what she knew and what it had all destroyed. He leapt to his feet, completely uncaring about his nakedness as he took a long step toward her.

  “What are you doing?” he snapped, far more sharply than he intended in the face of her utter censure.

  She jerked from the chair and backed away from him. “You want to take that angry tone with me?”

  “You ought not have gone through my private things,” he said, fighting to gentle that tone. He’d always gone to defensiveness when he had done something wrong.

  She shook her head. “Perhaps not, though that wasn’t my intention as I dreamily looked at all the things in this room that define who you are. Including these lies.” She threw the letter in her hand toward him.

  He stooped to pick the item up and clutched it to his chest, as if he could undo the power of it. But he couldn’t. Her rage and hurt and betrayal were all alive on her face. She was no longer trying to be pleasing when it came to him.

  And she was beautiful. So beautiful in that moment that it hurt his heart to look at her and know she no longer trusted him. Especially when her expression crumpled a fraction and tears filled her eyes.

  “I asked you about Anne,” she whispered. “Over and over again. And you lied to me. I told you about my own search and you acted as if it didn’t matter. You looked me in the face, you bastard, and you pretended like you knew nothing when in fact you had so much information about her.”


  “So much terrible information,” he corrected, reaching for her. She jerked away. “I had snippets of terrible information and no real answers about her whereabouts. I thought it would hurt you if I—”

  “Told me the truth?” she asked with a humorless laugh. “Or did you think me too stupid to understand it? Or too fragile to bear it? You, who doesn’t even care to know me beyond the bedroom? You, who wants to keep as many barriers between us as possible for my protection?”

  He turned his face at her accusation. It hit so hard in his chest because it was true. When she said the words out loud, he heard the cruelty in his actions. Heard the cowardice. He had withheld from her by telling himself he was protecting her.

  But he’d really been protecting himself. From letting her in. From admitting how much she mattered. From allowing her to be his partner in every sense of the word and giving himself to her as her partner.

  He had clearly been silent for too long because she huffed out a breath. “Well, now I know so there is no use trying to pretend anything any longer. I will take care of this myself.”

  He moved toward her. “Thomasina—”

  She shook her head. “Don’t. Just don’t. Oh, and you needn’t worry anymore about my feelings, my lord. When I look at you right now, the only one I have is contempt.”

  She pivoted and exited the room in only his shirt, slamming the door that connected their chambers and leaving him standing naked, staring at the place where she’d last stood.

  His legs shook and he sank into the chair she had abandoned a moment before. He stared at the letter from Reynolds that had started it all.

  And then he looked toward Thomasina’s chamber again and knew he was utterly lost.

  The rage that bubbled in Thomasina’s chest was an emotion she had rarely allowed herself to feel over the years. It had always been crushed down, first by others who told her it wasn’t right and later by herself because she had believed them. But now it boiled, threatening to overwhelm her.