by Diana Bold
She swallowed, shocked by the visual image his words had provoked. "Ethan, don't go. Please. Stay with me. I miss you."
He stared at her for a long, breathless minute. "I can't," he murmured at last. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I just can’t do this anymore. I’m losing my mind, living here with you, wanting you so much. I have to get away. I have to find peace, even if it’s only for a little while."
He wants me. For a moment, nothing else registered. The rest of it made no sense. He wanted her so much the only solution was to turn to someone else? Confused, she watched him stride toward the door, unable to speak, unable to find the words that would keep him from walking out on her.
It wasn’t until he’d slammed the door behind him, and the last reverberations died away, that she realized why he’d gone. I turned him away. He thinks I don’t want him.
Spurred into action, she raced after him, but by the time she got outside, he was already galloping down the drive on the back of his horse.
“Ethan,” she cried. “Ethan, come back! Please, come back!”
But it was too late. If he heard her, he gave no indication. Her heart breaking, she clung to the doorframe and watched him ride away.
* * * * *
Ethan stumbled into Briarwood’s front hall and closed the heavy oak door behind him with a quiet click. The last thing he wanted was to explain the sorry string of events that had befallen him in the past few hours.
Frozen and soaked to the bone, all he wanted was a hot bath and a gallon of good Irish whiskey. Ignoring the shooting pain in his right ankle, he made his way through the darkened house to the large master bathroom.
He turned on the bright gas lights, then cursed when he realized the door that connected the bathroom to Jessalyn’s part of the suite was wide open. He limped over to shut it but froze when he saw movement from Jessalyn’s bed.
“Ethan,” she murmured. “Is that you?”
“I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”
“I didn’t expect you home tonight.” Only the slightest hint of reproach tinged her voice, but it flayed him to the bone. He hated that he’d hurt her.
“I had a bit of an accident.” Standing in the doorway of her bedroom, he attempted a wry smile. “I’m going to take a hot bath, if it won’t disturb you too much.”
“My God!” The bedclothes rustled, and Jessalyn hurried toward him. Her concerned gaze swept him from head to toe. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s not as bad as it looks. My horse threw me about three miles down the road. Cut me up a bit, and I had to walk home through the mud.”
She bit her lip and drifted closer to him. “You’re soaking wet, and that cut on your temple doesn’t look like nothing.”
“I’ll be all right. I just need to get out of these wet clothes and get cleaned up.” He shrugged out of his filthy jacket and started on his wilted cravat, but his hands trembled so badly he couldn’t manage it.
“Let me.” She stepped so close the top of her head brushed his chin, and her sweet, clean scent filled his senses.
She unfastened his cravat with smooth efficiency, then went to work on his buttons and cufflinks. Before he could even think to protest, she had him stripped to the waist.
“Sit down and take off your boots. I’ll run your bathwater.”
Strangely comforted by her bossiness, he sank down on the dainty bench in front of Jessalyn’s vanity. His boots and socks were wet and muddy, and he grimaced at the mess he’d made on the white marble floor. If she weren’t so worried about him, she would have his head for not taking his shoes off outside.
His thoughts slowed as he watched her fuss over his bathwater. She tested it for warmth, her brow furrowed with concentration. Her white cotton nightgown molded the curves of her breasts as she leaned forward. A thrum of arousal chased away the worst of his lingering chill. No one had ever coddled him this way.
She poured a healthy measure of her scented bath bubbles into the tub, and the heavy fragrance of vanilla and roses filled the room. She straightened and met his gaze. “Sorry for the smell, but the bubbles should preserve your modesty while I clean that wound on your forehead.”
He glanced up at her in surprise. “I appreciate the offer, Jess. But I’ll be fine. Really.”
She shook her head. “I’ll go get some whiskey and bandages. By the time I return, I expect you to be in that tub.”
He knew it was a bad idea, but he couldn’t bring himself to protest. He wanted her to touch him with her small, gentle hands. He wanted to relax and bask in the fact that his beautiful wife cared that he’d been thrown from his horse and bloodied his temple.
Taking his silence for an answer, she cast him a quick smile, then left the room. As she’d commanded, he stripped off his trousers and slid into the hot water, pleased to see the bubbles did a fair job of hiding everything below the water line.
The hot water soothed his many aches and pains. By the time Jessalyn returned, he was already immensely improved. She handed him a tall tumbler of whiskey, then pushed the bench near the tub and perched on its edge.
“Let me take a look.” She probed his injured temple with her delicate fingertips. He winced when she touched a particularly sore spot and she laughed. “Don’t be a baby.”
After a few moments, she sat back and shook her head. “I don’t think it’s still bleeding, but your hair is so bloody it’s hard to tell. Lean forward, and I’ll wash it for you.”
“Do your worst.” Ethan took a deep swallow of his whiskey, then placed the glass on the bench beside her and did as she asked, letting the smoky liquor burn its way down to his gut.
She picked up a small pitcher from her supplies and doused his head, then worked the soap through his matted hair. “I’ll have you smelling like your greenhouse before we’re through.”
“I don’t mind.” Every muscle in his body relaxed under her gentle ministrations. “It feels good.”
She massaged his scalp for endless minutes, then rinsed the soap out with a fresh pitcher of warm water. “Ethan?” she asked softly. “Did you fall off your horse on your way to town, or on your way back?”
“On my way there,” he assured her, and sudden happiness swept through him. He was glad he’d spent the night trudging back home to her, instead of trying to forget her in the arms of a stranger. He wondered if he could have gone through with it. Somehow, he doubted it. He’d probably have spent the night getting roaring drunk and feeling sorry for himself.
“That’s good,” she whispered. “That’s very good.” After another thorough inspection of his wound, she leaned back with a look of satisfaction. “You’ll have a nasty bump, but I think you’ll be fine.”
He closed his eyes, lest she see how much he wanted her to stay. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
To his surprise, she leaned forward and brushed her lips to his battered temple. “I like taking care of you. This is the first time since we wed I’ve felt like any sort of a wife to you.”
Urging him to lean forward, she gently scrubbed his back. She worked the muscles of his neck and shoulders until he could have slid down the drain in a puddle of contentment.
“I’ve no complaints. You’ve been everything I could have hoped for under the circumstances.”
“I hate it that there are circumstances.” With a sigh, she shifted so she could reach his chest. He sank back against the rim of the tub and watched her through hooded eyes as she caressed every inch of his upper chest with her gentle, soapy hands.
Arousal hummed through him and settled in his groin with pulsing urgency. He hated the damned circumstances, too. He hated it that she was his wife, yet this evening would never come to its logical conclusion. He hated himself for promising her she could have an annulment.
“What’s this?” she asked as her fingertips circled a puckered scar a few inches above his right nipple.
“Mmm. Bullet hole,” he answered distractedly. “I got shot six years ago in Cameroon.”
Biting her lower lip in a way he found utterly enchanting, she allowed her hands to drift lower, across the ridges of his abdomen, to where the water halted her progress.
“I love touching you,” she whispered. “You’re so beautiful. Like a statue come to life.”
Her fingers strayed below the water. His cock strained to meet them, brushing the inside of her wrist with an insistence that made him gasp. Her gaze flew to his and he groaned. Damn it. Now he’d ruined it.
“Have a care, Jess.” His voice was rough, his entire body strung tight with need. “It’s been over six months since I’ve been with a woman.”
She caught her breath and left her hand low on his stomach. “Why? I never expected you to be faithful to me. That was never part of our bargain.”
Knowing he’d come too far to turn back now, he brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “How could I be with anyone else? I want you, Jess. Only you.”
“Oh, Ethan. I want you, too.” Her eyes flared with unmistakable desire, and he gasped when she ran her thumb along the length of his erection. “Show me how to touch you,” she whispered. Then she pressed her lips against his.
Lost in the sweetness of her kiss, he somehow managed to wrap his hand around hers. Drowning in sheer bliss from her touch, he guided her into a rhythm that pleased him, then let his hand fall away as she stroked him enthusiastically.
Within moments, his pleasure built to an unbearable pitch. He broke the kiss and collapsed against the back of the tub, letting his release flood through him in shuddering waves.
* * * * *
Jessalyn’s cheeks burned with mortification as she hurried from the bathroom, leaving Ethan alone in the tub. She strode to the fireplace and stabbed at the dying embers, then added kindling until the renewed blaze was sufficient to dry her damp nightgown.
Suppressed desire thrummed deep within her. She shifted and crossed her arms over the heavy ache in her breasts. She didn’t know whether to be shamed or elated by her brazen behavior, but one thing was certain—tonight, her relationship with Ethan had changed irrevocably.
Water splashed as Ethan got out of the tub. She had no idea how he’d react to what had happened, but the fact that he’d remained faithful to her all these months gave her foolish hope. He’d said he wanted her. Only her….
She closed her eyes and committed to memory the way he’d looked, naked and aroused, his beautiful face drawn with passion. How would she bear it if he turned from her in disgust?
Soft footsteps sounded behind her, and then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against his damp chest. His lips brushed her temple.
“Ah, Jess,” he whispered. “What are we doing?”
She sighed and relaxed against him. “I don’t know, but I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you.”
“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.” He hugged her tighter. “You know I can’t stay here forever. I want you to have the option of an annulment.”
The thought of losing him was like taking a knife in the heart, but it would be there regardless of whether they gave in to the passion that blazed between them. Fighting past the pain of knowing he didn’t want to stay, she turned in his arms and gazed into his fathomless green eyes.
“There are things we could do. Things that won’t count as a consummation.”
“Yes.” His eyes darkened with sudden understanding. “There are.”
Shamed, she dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry I’m not an innocent.”
“Don’t be.” He brushed her lips with his fingertips. “I’m not a virgin. Why should I expect you to be?”
“I’m ruined,” she whispered. “Damaged.”
“We’re all a little damaged. My past would disgust you, if you knew all the sordid little details.”
“Never.” She twined her hands through his with utter confidence. “I want to know everything about you. I wish you trusted me enough to tell me all the things that have hurt you.”
“I do trust you.” Releasing her hands, he moved toward the bed and removed the pillows and heavy down comforter. “The question is, do you trust me?” Holding her gaze, he spread the quilt in front of the fire, then arranged the pillows around it.
Heat blossomed within her as he sprawled across the pillows, naked except for the thin white towel at his waist. She nodded. “Yes. I trust you, too.”
“Then take off your gown and come here.” He held out a hand, his voice smoky with promise.
Heat bloomed in her cheeks as she lifted trembling hands to the tiny buttons that ran down the front of her nightgown. She’d never bared herself completely to James. Not like this, with the firelight illuminating every imperfection.
She feared he wouldn’t like what he saw. What if he changed his mind and decided they were better off remaining friends?
But when she dropped the gown and let it pool at her feet, the expression on his face stilled her doubts. “You take my breath away. You’re beautiful, Jess. So beautiful.”
Ethan had known she’d be lovely, but when she stood naked before him, he could hardly breathe for sheer wonder.
He reached for her hand and pulled her down beside him on the quilt. She lay back against the pillows, all long silken limbs and golden skin, and trembled with fear and desire. He knew she’d been wrong. She might have had a lover before him, but she was still innocent.
Her breasts were generous on her slender frame, her waist so narrow he could span it with his hands. He brushed one rosy nipple with his fingertip, elated when it swelled and hardened at his touch.
“I’m going to make love to you, with my hands and with my mouth. I’m going to bring you the same sort of release you brought me in the bathtub. But if I do anything you don’t like, just tell me, and I’ll stop. I swear I will.”
She nodded and stroked his cheek. “I believe you. But I can’t imagine you touching me in any way I won’t like.”
Determined to be worthy of her faith in him, he lowered his head and kissed her. Kissing was something he’d never allowed himself to enjoy. The women he’d taken to his bed in the past were whores or lonely widows. His trysts were always impersonal, a quick release with no strings attached.
But when he kissed Jessalyn, he wanted to feel every nuance. He wanted to taste her, drink her, drown in her. As they kissed, he explored her body with his hands; touching her breasts, her flat belly, and the coltish length of her legs.
His arousal raged hot and hard, rampant and eager despite his recent release. He wondered how he’d ever find the strength to bring her to orgasm and then turn away.
Jessalyn gasped as Ethan parted her legs with his hair-roughened thigh, opening her to his questing fingertips.
“You’re so wet,” he whispered, sliding one long finger deep within her. “God, you’re so wet for me.”
He kissed his way down her throat, then took one nipple between his teeth. He bit her lightly before skimming his lips across her belly, and then going lower still.
She moaned in delighted bliss as he lowered his head between her thighs. He stroked her with his fingers while his tongue lashed at the sensitive nub she’d never even known she possessed. She buried her hands in his hair, arching and gasping as he brought her to the precipice, then pulled her back with gentle ruthlessness.
“Please,” she begged. “Please, Ethan. I can’t bear it.”
Then he took her over. She sobbed his name, again and again, as her body contracted with bliss, unlike anything she’d ever known.
Ethan dragged himself up beside Jessalyn and held her as she recovered. He’d never given to a woman so selflessly, and the need to bury himself between her slim thighs and finish what they’d started was almost more than he could bear.
He eased away and prayed for strength. Just a few short hours ago, he’d planned to soothe this ache in a stranger’s arms and admit his marriage was a
complete and utter mistake. Instead, he’d ensured that his and Jessalyn’s relationship would be more complicated than ever.
How could he walk away from her now, having tasted her sweetness? Nothing would satisfy him but her complete surrender. She was a fire in his blood that could never be extinguished.
She stirred against him and lifted her languid gaze to his. “Thank you. I never knew it could be like that.”
“Neither did I,” he admitted as he brushed a damp strand of hair from her lips.
“Will you stay with me tonight? It would be nice to wake up in your arms.”
The mere thought of holding her throughout the night filled him with tenderness, but he’d never be able to do it. Not while he was still hard and aching with the need to find surcease within her body.
He didn’t want to be her friend right now. He wanted to be her lover.
Unable to meet her soft gaze, he cleared his throat. “I can’t, Jess. I want you too much. If I don’t leave right now, I’ll make love to you.”
“Maybe I want you to. Maybe that’s what I’ve wanted all along.”
He shook his head, desperate to make her understand. “If we keep on this way, if we become husband and wife in truth, I’ll only hurt you. I’ve hurt everyone I’ve ever cared about.”
“It will only hurt if you walk away.” She scrambled to her knees, forcing him to look at her. “Don’t you see? I already care for you more than you can imagine. We’ve come too far to turn back now.”
“No.” He pushed himself to his feet, fumbling to keep the towel around his hips. “You don’t know what you’re saying. We’re both too aroused to think clearly.”
He strode toward the door, but she caught him before he could reach it and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing herself against his broad back.
“Please, Ethan. Don’t go.”
For a long moment, he let her hold him, wondering why he was trying so hard to fight it. Because he knew she was right. They’d come too far to believe either one could walk away unscathed.