by Galen, Shana
Ward sniffed and headed for his room. Benedict headed for his own, pausing as he passed Catarina and Ines’s door. He’d been looking forward to fulfilling the promise she’d made him earlier, but it was his own fault for staying out so late. He thought about knocking on her door but didn’t want to disturb her sleep or wake Ines.
But it would be a long night without her. He’d grown used to holding her in his arms.
Tigrino was indeed sleeping in front of his door. Benedict knelt down and stroked the cat, who turned lazily onto his back and yawned widely. Benedict petted him for a few minutes. “Leave my furnishings alone,” he told the feline. “There’s nothing more miserable than a wet cat.” Stepping over the cat, he entered his room and immediately wondered if Ward’s memory was failing him. The fire was stoked and the bed was turned down.
And then he realized the bed was not empty.
Fourteen
“What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again,
Good Kate; I am a gentleman.”
The Taming of the Shrew, William Shakespeare
“I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND that I am here,” Catarina said, sitting up in Benedict’s bed. He stood in the doorway for a moment, looking absolutely shocked. In fact, he stood for so long, Tigrino wandered inside. Finally, when the cat rubbed on his leg, Benedict bent down, shooed the cat back outside and closed the door.
“Mind? Whatever is the opposite of to mind is what I feel right now.” He took a step closer. “Are you—” He gestured toward her.
She looked down at the sheet covering her. “Naked? I thought I would save you time.”
“God help me.” He sat heavily in a chair. “Give me a moment to remove my boots.”
“Take all the time you want. I was lying here thinking about the shop and the best way to arrange it. Ines thinks we should have a little table to consult with customers wanting lace designed especially for them near the window so customers passing by can see them, but I think it would be cozier and more intimate in a back corner. What do you think?”
“I think cozy and intimate is what I’d prefer.” He stood and pulled off his coat, still wearing his waistcoat, shirt, cravat, and trousers.
“So would I.” She licked her lips, thinking of the body under all the layers of clothing. She had not been entirely truthful when she’d implied she’d been thinking all evening about the lace shop—well, she’d been thinking about it a little. But as soon as she heard him come in and heard the low rumble of his voice as he spoke to Ward, she’d been imagining touching him and kissing him and having him do all that and more to her.
“Let me help you with the rest of that clothing.” She drew the sheet down, watching the way his bright blue eyes darkened as she revealed her body to him. She loved the way he looked at her. She rose and walked slowly to him, reaching up to loosen his cravat.
“I thought you were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you,” he said as she slid his cravat from his neck and began unbuttoning his shirt. He hadn’t touched her yet, and she wished he would put his hands on her.
“Ines went to bed, but I waited up for you.” She pulled the shirt from his trousers.
“I didn’t mean to stay at my club so la—so late.” His speech stumbled as she tugged the shirt up and slid her hands under it.
“Can you see to the sleeves?” She pulled the shirt over his head. “What were you discussing?”
“The man I have watching de la Fuente has to take a step back. Juan Carlos is becoming suspicious.”
“He’s the sort of man who has always been given everything he wants. In Barcelona the only friends he had were those he bought with expensive gifts or influence. He wouldn’t understand a man who did not want something in return.”
Draven’s eyes narrowed. “Good point. I’ll tell my man to change his strategy.”
She ran her fingers up and down his chest, her hands tangling in the red hair. “I take it there is no sign of him leaving.”
“Not yet. But he will either grow tired of his game or do something for which we can have him arrested. Time is on our side.”
“I wish I had your confidence.”
“I’ve kept you safe, and I will keep you safe.”
She put her arms around him. “I know.” And she did. She believed he would keep her and her sister safe.
The kiss was soft and slow, but as he’d said, they had time on their side. She explored his mouth leisurely, and when he reciprocated, her heart began to pound. She felt for the placket of his trousers, but he caught her hands.
“What is wrong?” She pulled back, her head spinning and the blood pumping in her ears.
“What do you want tonight, Catarina? I don’t want any confusion between us.”
She understood the question, and she knew her answer. She loved him and she wanted a true marriage with him. That meant she had to let her guard down. She had to stop holding back and give him her trust and her heart. She took a deep breath. “I want you. All of you. I want you to be my husband in every way.”
“Are you certain? You know I don’t want an annulment. When you said yes at the shop, does that mean you no longer want one either?”
“I want to be your wife.”
He cupped her face, his desire evident in the way his hands shook slightly. “Catarina, I don’t care what the church or the law says. If we do this, you are mine.”
She squeezed his hands. “That is what I want. I want you to be mine, and I will be yours.”
Their eyes met and held for a long moment, and then his mouth came down on hers with a passion she hadn’t expected. It was as though he was a rushing river, held back by a dam and now set free. He lifted her as though she weighed nothing more than Tigrino and carried her across the room.
“Benedict! You will hurt yourself.”
“I’m not that old yet.” He set her on the bed and came down on top of her, his body covering hers in the most delicious way. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, looking for friction there too.
“Take off your trousers,” she murmured.
He stood and removed them quickly then when she held her arms out to him, came down on top of her, his weight braced by his muscled arms. “I am ready,” she said, closing her eyes. She’d heard there would be pain, and she was prepared to endure it.
But nothing happened. Benedict didn’t move, though she could feel his hard member against her thigh. She opened her eyes. “Do you not have to...do something?”
He arched his brows. “If I were twenty, I might take that approach, but I hope I have a little more patience. Not much, mind you. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.”
“How long?”
“Over five years.”
She heard him, but it took several seconds before she could comprehend. “Then it’s true. All this time, you have been faithful to me. I never asked it of you.”
“Nor I you, and yet we’ve both kept our vow.”
“But...” She had been about to say that he was a man, but why should that matter? God did not have different expectations of men than he did of women.
“To tell you the truth, it hasn’t been all that difficult. No woman I met after you could even tempt me.”
She swallowed. “I believe you tried to tell me this before.”
He gave her a rueful look. “You’re ready to hear it now. There’s been no one else, and there will never be anyone else.”
Her heart swelled with love for him. This was right. Tonight, here in his arms, was right.
“I feel the same, Benedict. There is only you for me.” She kissed him, and the kiss grew deeper and hotter. “Take me now,” she whispered.
“As much as I would like to do that, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I am ready for the pain.” She braced herself, closing her eyes.
“Yes, you look like you are ready to have a limb amputated. Why don’t I start like this?” His mouth brushed across her chin then do
wn her neck. He teased the sensitive skin there with his lips and his stubble then kissed her collarbone. His hands, meanwhile, stroked her breasts down to her belly, her hips, and then back again. Her whole body was on fire from his touch.
While his mouth found and exploited the sensitive spots behind her ear and in the hollow of her throat, his hands finally drifted to her center, where he gently opened her legs and stroked her. His touch was light and fleeting, his hands returning to her quivering belly and her aching breasts and then back again to the place between her legs that had begun to throb. His fingers parted her, and one dipped into the slick wetness there. She moaned as that same finger circled the nub where the most need was centered. And she clenched his shoulders when one of his fingers entered her.
He knew what gave her pleasure now, and he slid in and out, deeper and harder, pressing against that nub that cried out for more. “I-I cannot wait any longer,” she said on a gasp.
“I don’t want you to wait.” And he moved his hand in such a way that a thousand tiny explosions erupted inside her, causing her to buck against him and gasp in ragged breaths. Just as the pleasure climaxed, he moved between her legs, his hard member sliding against that still convulsing part of her.
She jumped and moaned as he rocked against her, entering her slightly, the feeling not so different from that of his fingers. She was still limp with pleasure as he slid deeper, spreading her uncomfortably wider. She tensed slightly, and his finger was on that little button again, gently brushing over it, making her arch her hips.
“That’s it. Relax.” With infinite patience and slowness, he sheathed himself inside her. Every time she felt a twinge of pain, he found a way to give her pleasure—touching her, kissing her, caressing her, until she was welcoming him deeper. Finally, he braced himself on his elbows and looked down at her. “Not quite so bad as an amputation, is it?” he asked.
“Are you...is that...?”
“Yes. And now what I really want to do is move. I’ll go slowly.” He withdrew slightly then returned. She felt uncomfortable, a slight sting, but it was nothing unbearable. The feelings of pleasure from before were still coursing through her, and when he pressed in the right spot, she felt the promise of more. He moved again, this time withdrawing farther, then pressing up and causing her to moan. The pain and pleasure mixed together until she could not concentrate fully on either feeling. She looked into his eyes, focusing on the bright blue of them instead. His gaze was intense on her as he found a slow, but steady rhythm. He twined his fingers with hers, and she couldn’t help but think that she might enjoy this next time, when the discomfort was not so distracting.
His breath hitched, and he thrust deep inside her. She winced then watched his face with interest. His gaze was still on her, but she could see the pleasure in the flush of his cheeks and the hoarse growl in the back of his throat. She could feel him pulse inside her. His hands tightened on hers, and he finally lowered himself to press a kiss on her shoulder.
When he finally raised his head, she smoothed his unruly hair. “Definitely better than amputation.”
He laughed. “I’ll make it better for you next time.”
And she knew he would. She knew he could. She could see long years ahead, filled with nights like this, his body slowly filling hers, both of them taking pleasure and giving it.
If only Juan Carlos would leave them alone.
SHE SLEPT LATE THE next day, not waking until she could no longer ignore Tigrino’s yowling outside the bed chamber door. She’d felt Benedict rise an hour or so before, had wanted to pull him back to the warmth under the bed clothes, but she didn’t have the energy.
Now she sat, flinching a bit at the soreness between her legs and the dried blood on the sheets. She was no longer a virgin. She was a married woman, in truth. She donned her wrapper and stood before Benedict’s shaving mirror. She didn’t look any different.
She tried to make herself presentable and finally made her way to the dining room to break her fast. She wore her chemise and dressing robe, suitably covered from neck to toe. Ines was sitting alone, looking at one of the fashion magazines Benedict had bought for them. She glanced up at Catarina, back at the magazine, then up again. She stood and gasped.
“What is it?” Catarina asked, looking about for a rat or a spider.
“Finally!” Ines grabbed her hands. “You consummated the marriage!”
“Shh!” Catarina looked about and saw Ward disappearing through the door, obviously no keener to hear the conversation than Catarina was to have it. “What are you talking about?”
“I am your sister. I can tell.”
“That is nonsense. I looked in the mirror this morning. I look the same.”
“But you are not the same, are you? What was it like? Was it horribly painful?” She pulled Catarina down into a chair and sat on the edge of the one beside it.
“No. It was uncomfortable, but not painful. Do you think I might at least have coffee if I am to have this conversation so early?”
“Early? It is almost eleven.”
“I slept that late?”
Ines nodded, fetching Catarina a cup of coffee, which she set before her sister. To her credit, Ines waited until Catarina had a sip before asking more questions. “Was he a brute?”
Catarina understood the question. The men they’d known treated women as objects. “No. He was...very considerate. He made certain we both enjoyed the experience.”
“Did he—"
“Ines! I am not saying any more. Not even to my sister.”
“I am eighteen. Hardly a baby.”
“Some things are personal.”
Ins raised a thin brow. “Did he tell you he loved you? Was it romantic?”
Catarina opened her mouth to reply then closed it again. “No more questions.”
The truth was, he hadn’t told her. Not when he’d pleasured her, not when he’d been inside her, not afterward when he’d held her. But that was between Benedict and herself. Ines thought love was all that mattered. Catarina now knew a marriage was more than that.
But it would have been nice if love were part of it.
She had told Lord Phineas yesterday—had it only been yesterday?—she didn’t know if she loved Benedict. But how could she not love him after last night, after the loving way he had treated her? And after the way he had shown he supported her. He’d bought her a shop—her own shop!
“I have bad news,” Ines said, snapping Catarina out of her reverie.
“What do you mean?”
“I did not want to tell you right away, but we are out of thread again.”
Of course they were. They had not been able to find nearly enough of the quality they needed, and every day new orders came in. “I told Benedict this morning, and he said he would take us to the shops this afternoon.”
Catarina nodded. “We will have to wait then.”
“You promised the pinch-faced woman—what is her name?”
“Viscountess something. I wrote it down.”
“I remember her as the pinch-faced woman.”
Tigrino jumped on the table, and Catarina had to scoop him off and into her lap before Ward saw it and suffered an apoplexy.
Ines waited until Tigrino was removed then continued. “Her lace collar is to be ready today. She will send for it at two.”
“I have it done.”
“And last night I finished the border on the lace for the lady with the red hair that is not truly red.”
Catarina had to think a moment. She could not remember the woman’s name either, but she knew her sister meant the woman with hair far too bright to be her natural color. “What about the handkerchief for Lady Knollwood?”
Ines frowned.
“She wore an orange and green dress, and her hair was piled quite high.”
“Oh, yes! We do not have the thread to start it.”
Catarina rubbed the bridge of her nose, where a headache was beginning to form. “We have a little time on that,
but we will surely receive new orders today. After all, five or six ladies told me at the garden party they would call on me.”
“Several told me as well.”
Catarina finished her coffee. “We had better not promise anything too soon. We will not be able to start anything until this evening, and we still have lace to make for past orders. And one of us may have to stay behind and take orders while the other goes with Benedict to pick out thread.”
“I want to go!”
“Very well but be ready. I want you two to leave as soon as he returns home.”
But he didn’t return home by the time callers began arriving to place new orders. They had a steady stream of ladies from the garden party, and though Catarina and Ines tried to put them off, every lady wanted something urgently for this ball or that musicale.
Ines was agitated by the time Benedict arrived home, which was well after six, when the shops were closed for the day. Catarina tried to remain calm. She could work quickly when necessary, and she couldn’t expect Benedict to set aside his business to take her shopping. But how happy she would be when Juan Carlos was out of her life, and she could go freely about London.
When she heard him come in, Catarina rose from her chair in the parlor and waved at Ines to stay where she was. She met Benedict in the receiving room. As soon as he saw her, his blue eyes warmed. She was reminded of all they had shared last night. He took her hand.
Ward cleared his throat and announced he would see that all was as it should be for dinner.
“How are you?” Benedict asked as Ward walked away. “I didn’t want to leave without saying good-bye, but you were sleeping so peacefully.”
“I slept very late and feel extremely lazy.”
He gave her a chiding look. “I’m sure you had an afternoon filled with callers and didn’t have a moment’s peace. You are the furthest thing from lazy.”
“The garden party did seem to have the desired effect.”
“Good.” He took her hands. “And how are you? I didn’t...hurt you, did I?”