Finding the Black Orchid : A Victorian Historical Romance (Brides of Scandal Book 3)

by Diana Bold

  His stark male beauty stunned her. Unable to resist, she reached out and trailed her fingertips across his chest, then lower. She skimmed his flat belly and lightly brushed his thick shaft, shocked by his heat.

  He groaned and crushed her to him, kissing her with renewed hunger. She clung to him, thrilled by the feel of his hot, silky skin pressed to hers. He was all hard sinewy muscle.

  Once he pressed her down onto the bed, he trailed his mouth down her throat and fastened his lips upon the aching fullness of one breast. She gasped and tangled her fingers in his thick, dark hair. Her head fell back against the pillows as she enjoyed the amazing sensation of Ethan suckling her nipple.

  After a long while, he let his mouth drift to the other side, while his fingertips delved between her legs, where she was already wet for him. He moaned against her skin and thrust his fingers deep within her.

  "I'm sorry," he whispered, lifting his head to gaze down at her. "I can't wait."

  "I don't want you to." She trembled with the need to feel him deep inside her.

  Moving between her thighs, he rubbed the tip of his erection against her slick folds, eliciting a shockwave of pleasure through her very core. Then he thrust deep inside, burying himself to the hilt. She gasped, stunned by the fullness. The tendons in his throat stood out in stark relief as he fought for control.

  "Are you all right?" he whispered. "You feel so good, Jess. So good."

  She ducked her head against his shoulder, unable to meet his gaze for fear he’d see how finally having him inside her had shattered her. God, she loved this man. She wanted to say the words, but she was afraid. So afraid.

  But he wouldn't let her hide. He lifted her chin with one fingertip and forced her to meet his gaze.

  "Did I hurt you?" His big arms trembled with the strain of holding himself back.

  Tenderness overwhelmed her. "No. Of course not. It feels good. It feels right."

  His eyes flared with pleasure at her words. Bending his mouth to hers once more, he slid against her, withdrew, and then thrust back in.

  At first, his movements were slow and unhurried. He kissed her as though he had all the time in the world, and the steady pressure of his body moving within hers was absolute heaven.

  But after a while, his thrusts became more forceful; his breathing ragged. He broke the kiss and buried his face against her breasts as his hips moved between hers.

  She wrapped her arms and legs around him, feeling as though she could never get close enough. The strange, tingling feeling she’d experienced before built deep inside her, and she knew that if she didn’t hold on to him for all she was worth, she would fall to pieces.

  Moaning her name, he reached between them and rubbed his thumb insistently against the spot just above where their bodies were joined. Crying out, she convulsed around him.

  With a deep groan, Ethan tensed and then pulsed within her. Every muscle in his body tightened. Then he suddenly went limp, collapsing on top of her as though he meant to stay there for all eternity.

  * * * * *

  Jessalyn awoke to an overwhelming sense of loss. Reaching out one questing hand, she flailed futilely amongst the cold sheets, then sighed, wondering how long it had been since Ethan left her.

  "Jess?" His voice drifted toward her from the shadowed corner of the room.

  She looked up and found him standing near the window, which glowed with the faint reddish hues of dawn. "I thought you were gone." She hated the needy note she heard in her voice, but she was helpless to stop it.

  "I'm right here, sweetheart."

  Sweetheart.

  The endearment warmed her soul and chased away the last of the chill she'd felt upon waking alone. "It's early yet." She patted the empty space beside her invitingly. "Come back to bed."

  He scrubbed his hand across his face, then crossed the room and lowered himself to the edge of the bed, giving her his back. He'd pulled on his trousers, but they were unfastened, and he was still shirtless.

  "I couldn't sleep." His voice was thick with tension, riddled with suppressed emotion. He glanced at her over his shoulder and shrugged. "Sorry I woke you."

  She lifted herself on one elbow and traced the rigid line of his spine. His skin felt like chilled marble beneath her fingertips. Shocked, she sat up and put her arms around him, chafing his arms in an effort to warm him. "You're freezing."

  He made a low, lost sound in the back of his throat and lay down, pulling the blankets around them both. She nestled against him, giving her body heat freely.

  "What's wrong?" she whispered, as the silence fell heavily between them. "Are you regretting what happened between us?"

  He sighed and stroked her tangled hair. "It complicates things."

  Her tentative sense of wellbeing vanished. Though he still held her, a chasm had opened between them. "You want to leave, don't you?"

  “Why not?” His arm tightened reflexively. " It’s the only thing I'm any good at."

  "I know you're angry. You have every right to be. But it will kill him if you leave now."

  "How can I stay? How can I ever look at him again, knowing every single word and deed between us was a lie?" His anguish tore through her, and she struggled to find the right words. She wanted to comfort him, but his hurt went far too deep.

  "Christian's friendship was never a lie. He knew all along that you’d never desire him, yet he still stood by you for over a dozen years. Doesn't that count for something?"

  He shook his head. "I don't know. I just can't bear the thought of him wanting me in that way."

  She took a deep breath. "I've come to realize you can't help who you love. No matter how hard you try, despite all the obstacles that stand in the way."

  Ethan went still for a moment, then caught her chin in one warm hand and tilted her face so he could meet her hesitant gaze. "If you're saying what I think you are, I need you to be clearer. Crystal clear."

  He needed to hear the words. As she stared into his tortured green eyes, she wondered if anyone had ever said them to him before. Overwhelmed with the force of her love, she brushed a few silky strands of hair from his forehead and smiled nervously.

  "I love you, Ethan. I always have."

  He released a long, shuddering sigh, then crushed her against him, holding her so tightly she could hardly breathe. But she didn't mind.

  She'd been waiting her entire life for this moment.

  If only he would return the gift she'd just given him. She'd give anything to hear him say he loved her in return.

  Ethan pressed his face against the soft cloud of Jessalyn's hair, feeling as though he'd had the wind knocked out of him.

  She loves me.

  It seemed impossible to believe, but he wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to.

  If he could have this one thing, perhaps the rest wouldn't matter so much. In Jessalyn's arms, perhaps he could forget the terrible secret his best friend had been hiding all these years.

  From the tension in her lithe frame, he knew she wanted him to return the sentiment, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words. Once he admitted it out loud, he was lost. He'd never be able to leave and was afraid he'd sentence them both to a never-ending circle of tragedy.

  So, he kissed her again, with all the tenderness he could muster, trying to show her what he could not put into words. How inadequate those words seemed anyway, given the huge debt he owed her.

  If she hadn't allowed him to make love to her last night, he wasn't sure what form his anger might have taken. He feared he might have run away, leaving Christian when he needed him most.

  Forcing himself to put aside all thoughts of Christian, he poured himself into the kiss.

  He made love to his wife again, this time with all the tenderness and care that had been lacking in their first fiery joining. He brought her to the brink of orgasm time and again, until she was sobbing his name and begging him to finish what he'd started.

  Only then did he finally sink deep inside of her and take th
em both over the edge.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ethan avoided the sickroom for the next several days as he struggled to come to terms with the rift in his relationship with Christian. Despite the wrenching sense of betrayal his friend’s words had caused, he couldn't walk out on Christian now.

  Still, he couldn't shake the fury that hung over him like a heavy cloud. He'd been manipulated in the worst possible way, forced to return to England when it was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

  He'd been glad to help when he thought Christian made request solely because he needed to meet his end with a measure of grace and peace. Now Ethan couldn't help but wonder what ulterior motives had lurked beneath the surface.

  Bloody hell. What the hell did Christian expect of him? Did he truly think his declaration of love would be met with anything other than dismay? Whenever he thought of what Christian wanted from him, sadness and regret twisted within him.

  He'd thought he knew his friend so well, yet the events of the past twenty-four had proven Christian had hidden depths he'd never imagined. And if he hadn’t guessed this about Christian, the one person in his life he’d trusted and believed in, how could he trust his instincts about anything?

  He’d always been filled with self-doubt and this justified it. What he’d found in Jessalyn’s arms seemed like happiness. Hell, perhaps it was.

  But how could he ever be sure?

  * * * * *

  Christian waited for what seemed an eternity for Ethan to get over his anger. Unfortunately, time was something he no longer had in abundance.

  After two days, he realized that if he wanted to speak to Ethan again, he was going to have to initiate the conversation. Gathering his courage and what remained of his strength, he made the short journey to the greenhouse.

  He arrived winded and shaken, then spent a quarter of an hour outside the door, struggling to regain his composure. The last thing he wanted to do was faint at Ethan's feet.

  At last, he felt sufficiently in control of himself to face the lion in his den. Taking a shallow breath and praying his lungs wouldn’t fail him, he went inside.

  Ethan sat at his workbench, working on his book. He didn't look up when Christian entered, but his shoulders went rigid with tension.

  Christian advanced cautiously, closing the distance until only a few feet separated them. Ethan looked tired, he noted guiltily. Deep circles shadowed his eyes, and he hadn't shaved in days.

  "I'm sorry." Christian gave a weary shrug. "I was a fool to say those things to you. The last thing I wanted to do was lose your friendship."

  Ethan rubbed one hand over his face, still ignoring him. The silence stretched between them until Christian thought he might snap from the strain, but at last Ethan sighed and met his impassioned gaze. "Don't you understand? This makes me question everything! I can't help but wonder what ulterior motives you had for all the kindnesses you've shown me."

  "How long have you wanted my sister?" Christian asked abruptly. The only way to solve this problem was by putting it into terms Ethan could understand.

  "Excuse me?" Ethan glared at Christian, obviously rattled.

  "I know you better than anyone," Christian said. "And I'd be willing to bet whatever time I have left that you've been lusting after Jessalyn since the day I reintroduced the two of you in the study."

  A deep flush worked its way across Ethan's cheeks, but he said nothing.

  "Does the wanting make the friendship any less real? Has everything you've done for her been in hopes of bedding her or have you been able to enjoy the time you've spent with her simply because she's good company?"

  Ethan frowned and looked away.

  "I chose you for my friend long before I could have imagined making you my lover. I never had any amorous feelings toward you during our school days."

  Ethan gave a bitter laugh. "Well, that's good to know."

  Christian wished he had the nerve to touch him, to squeeze his shoulder or even hug him, but that would undo whatever headway he'd managed to make. "You have every right to be angry. But please don't shut me out. I can't bear it."

  "Just give me a little time," Ethan said at last. "You've given me a lot to think about."

  "Of course," Christian murmured, then turned away. Time, he thought wearily as he girded himself for the return trip to the house. Time is the one thing I don’t have.

  He held it together until he was certain he was no longer visible from the greenhouse. Then he ducked behind a tree and sagged heavily against its rough bark, grateful he’d managed to remain on his feet when faced with the irrevocable knowledge that everything he’d hoped and worked for during the last half a dozen years had been for naught.

  His reckless gamble had failed utterly.

  Not only had Ethan been horrified to hear of his affections, but he’d also convinced himself their entire friendship had been a lie. Hopefully, their conversation tonight had gone a little way toward abusing him of that notion, but Christian knew nothing would ever be the same between them.

  Desolation swept through him, charring the last of his foolish dreams. Ethan didn’t love him. He never had and never would.

  It shouldn’t have surprised him, but somehow, it did. He’d managed to build the entire romance up in his mind until the promise of making it real had been the driving force in his life.

  A cough tore through him, and for long moments, his entire world came down to this, to the enemy inside him and the will it took to fight back, to take another breath when his lungs wanted to give up. As the tremors faded, and he could finally breathe again, he wondered why he bothered.

  Now that his dreams were shattered, what did he have to live for?

  With a tired sigh, he pushed away from the tree and trudged back toward the house, his footsteps heavy and slow. There was nothing left to look forward to, nothing in his future but the slow deterioration of his body and his inevitable death.

  A harsh laugh escaped his lips at the direction of his maudlin thoughts. He supposed he should try to find a silver lining, try to find some meaning out of the mess he’d made of his life, but he’d never been an optimist.

  He didn’t believe something better waited for him on the other side. But the nothingness of death was starting to sound better than the pain of life.

  * * * * *

  Jessalyn bit her lip in dismay as she watched her brother’s slow, painful progress across the lawn. It had taken a tremendous amount of strength and courage to pull himself out of bed and make the trek down to the greenhouse to confront Ethan.

  Given the dejected set of his shoulders, she deduced the meeting hadn’t gone well. Her heart ached for Christian’s plight, but she couldn’t pretend she wished he’d had better luck. She couldn’t wish for the man she loved to love her brother instead.

  Ethan was hers. Her husband. Her lover. Her best friend. Much as she cared for her brother, she had no intention of sharing any part of the man she’d married.

  She waited until Christian entered the house, then hurried down to the greenhouse, fully prepared to face Ethan’s fury. To her surprise, she found her husband sitting at his workbench, an introspective look on his beautiful face.

  “I saw Christian leave. Are you all right?”

  He met her sympathetic gaze and managed a wry smile. “Yeah. I’m all right. We talked a bit, and I asked him to give me a little more time. But I don’t think I really need it.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I wanted to hate him. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to look him in the eyes again. But when he came down here, I realized that despite everything, he’s still Christian. He hasn’t changed.”

  She slid her arm around his neck and perched upon his knee, staring down at him in wordless awe. Pressing her lips to his temple, she buried her hands in the cool, silky waves of his sable hair. His generosity of spirit stunned her. Few men would be so understanding of someone like her brother.

  “I know my rejection must be killing him. But I can’t imag
ine doing the things he wants. Christ. Not with him.”

  “It’s all right,” she whispered, finding her voice at last. “It’s all right, sweetheart. You’re doing the best you can. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

  “What did I do?” he asked, his voice hoarse and tentative. “What did I do to make him think I might welcome his advances?”

  “I’m sure you didn’t do anything.” She cupped his face in her hands and forced him to meet her concerned gaze. “You’re the most masculine man I’ve ever met, Ethan. He probably loves you for the same reasons I do. Because you’re gorgeous and smart and kind.”

  “Tell me again,” he demanded, tightening his hold on her. He pulled her closer, until she was pressed against him from chest to thigh. “Tell me you love me.”

  “I love you,” she whispered. “I’ll never stop loving you.”

  He pressed his forehead against hers and his long lashes swept down, obscuring his eyes. “God, sweetheart. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing that. If it wasn’t for you, I couldn’t bear this. I couldn’t bear any of it.”

  Once again, he’d failed to say the words back to her. But how could she be angry with him when he needed her so badly? She tried to convince herself that he felt the same way she did, even if he couldn’t say it. He’d given her so much, she felt guilty for wanting more. Surely, he’d say he loved her in time. Perhaps once the heartache of Christian’s unwelcome confession had faded.

  “I’ll always be here for you,” she told him, her eyes flooding with more useless tears. “As long as you want me to be.”

  In answer, he merely pressed his lips to hers, kissing her until all uncertainty faded, and she was lost in blissful pleasure.

  This was enough. For now, it had to be enough.

  * * * * *

  "Will you kiss me, Ethan? Just once?"