He looked at her and his features immediately relaxed. He’d strategized his next move. “Ready?” He winked.
She nodded even as her heart thudded. Will raised his free hand and banged three times on the wooden front door.
A moment passed and then the distinct sound of shuffling feet, a rattling of keys, and then the slide and clunk of a key being turned in the lock. The door swung open and a woman of a generous weight stood on the threshold, her face pulled into such an unwelcoming scowl, Emily moved to take a step back. Will tightened his grip on her hand, keeping her there at the same time as he swept into a low bow.
“Good afternoon, madam. I am so sorry to bother you but my wife and I have found ourselves in a bit of a pickle and wonder if we could bother you for some help.”
The woman stared, her hands fisted on ample hips, her eyes so narrowed they were mere slits. “Is that so?”
“Our gig took a tumble that resulted in a broken wheel and its abandonment until morning. If we were to venture back to the city, darkness would be upon us.”
Her eyes widened. “You live in the city? What are you doing all the way out here?”
“Oh, but we so love a country drive, don’t we, Emilia?”
Emily started when he nudged her none too gently in the ribs. “Oh, we do. Very much.”
“I suppose the tumbling of your gig explains the state of your dress does it?” The woman ran her gaze up and down Emily.
Emily plucked at her skirt, nerves leaping in her stomach. “Exactly.”
Will cleared his throat. “All we ask is for a night in your barn, madam. We will be absolutely no bother to you and be on our way at daybreak. I daren’t start the long walk back tonight. God only knows who or what lurks about these lanes at night.”
“Hmm.” She looked from Will to Emily and back again. “I suppose I can stretch to soap and water, a hot cup of tea, and a bowl of broth. Will that do you?”
With her heart racing, Emily smiled. “That would be most generous. Thank you.”
The woman raised her hands in surrender as her face softened and her eyes lost their suspicion. “Come on then, inside, the pair of you. You both look as though a piece of wet flannel wouldn’t go amiss either.”
Will sighed. “It certainly wouldn’t. We feel as though we’ve been lying on our backs rolling in grass and mud all afternoon.”
Emily bit down on her bottom lip to stem the threat of laughter bubbling in her throat. He was impossible. The woman’s gaze darted between them once again before she held open the door and gestured them inside.
Emily placed her spoon on the table beside her empty bowl and reached for her cup of water. The liquid was welcome against her arid throat. The reality that she would spend the night alone with Will hit her square between the eyes once more. The illicitness of what they were doing shot into her consciousness with full and alarming clarity.
A night in a barn. Like a pair of animals.
She swallowed as her stomach quivered. As tense as a coiled spring, Emily allowed the goal of hiding her fretfulness to slip and she faltered. She had to put a stop to their hurried arrangement. No matter how strong her pull toward him, to lie with Will was just too much. Mrs. Lancaster, their host, locked eyes with her and Emily slowly returned her cup to the table. Careful to only use her right hand, she knew a slip up was imminent if she didn’t keep her nerves under control.
Emily smiled, and Mrs. Lancaster’s lips twitched before she returned her attention to the sock she darned. Emily darted a glance to the window for the fourteenth time in the last half an hour. The glaring absence of her “husband” had done nothing to appease her apprehension. Will had seen fit to go outside half an hour ago and was apparently in no obvious hurry to return. Unable to bare the silence any longer, Emily pulled her shaking hands into her lap.
“Goodness knows what is taking my husband so long. He’s no doubt wandering aimlessly around as men are so often prone to do.”
“He said you were to finish your meal and then follow him out to the barn.”
Emily frowned. “He did? He said nothing to me. I had no idea he wasn’t coming back inside.”
“That’s men for you.” Mrs. Lancaster didn’t look up from her work. “All they think about is themselves.”
“Indeed.” Even though Emily knew she should get up and move toward the door, her nerves jangled around her body at such a rate that she was struck immobile. She smoothed her hands over the nightgown their hostess had been kind enough to lend her. “Thank you for the nightdress, Mrs. Lancaster. You were very kind to offer to attempt to clean my dress, but please do not bother. My maid is a miracle worker.”
Mrs. Lancaster met her eyes and lifted her shoulders. “All I did was hang it out to dry overnight. Hopefully that mud will brush straight off in the morning.” She tilted her head in Emily’s direction. “I know that nightgown isn’t the most flattering thing for a lady with your figure to wear, but I thought it preferable to sleeping in your stays.”
Emily smiled. “It is generous of you to let me borrow it. I’m very grateful.”
“Are you ready to join him then?”
“Who?”
She laughed. “Mr. Samson, of course. He’s out there waiting for you.”
“Oh, yes, I see. Yes, I ought, shouldn’t I? I am not at all happy he is not here to escort me to the barn though. It’s pitch black outside.”
“No trouble. I have a lamp you can take with you.”
“Well, in that case, I shall be perfectly safe.” Emily forced a smile.
Mrs. Lancaster walked to a dresser at the far end of the room. She pulled down a lamp from the upper shelf, took a match to it, and replaced the glass dome over the flame. It flickered and danced as though celebrating the night ahead. Emily wanted to snuff it out.
Why had she thought for one moment it would be exciting, romantic even, to spend a night in the middle of nowhere with Will? Was he not proving himself to be as inconsiderate as any other man? No gentleman would leave his sweetheart alone to find her way across a strange farm to a barn. He was no better than the rest of them.
“Off you go then, Mrs. Samson.” Mrs. Lancaster thrust the lamp toward her. “Go and join your husband.”
Swallowing, Emily stood. “Thank you. For everything.”
She gathered up the huge mounds of excess material from around her ankles with one hand and took the lamp in the other. Mrs. Lancaster swung open the door, leaving Emily no choice but to step out into the darkness.
The temperature was mild and the breeze light. An idyllic evening one might say. Turning, Emily looked again to Mrs. Lancaster in the hope she might want to discuss the weather or the Royal Family . . . anything. The door was promptly slammed shut.
“Well, that’s just lovely.” Emily blinked back hot tears.
She tilted her chin and took her first steps toward the barn. With nerves jumping like beans in her blood, Emily walked all the way around to the back of the house.
“Oh, Will.” Her breath left her lungs in a rush and a smile curved her lips.
Evidence of what Will had been up to for the time he’d been missing was evident before her. At least twenty tiny makeshift fires, held in tin cups and bowls, lit a glowing-edged pathway to the barn.
Its doors were slightly ajar as Emily approached, her heart beating fast and her hands clammy. Anxiety and trepidation, mixed with hope and happiness, coursed through her body on an undulating wave. Will was a man who made anything possible. Everything exciting and romantic.
Could she really give him her body? The only thing she could truly call her own?
She stopped outside and clasped the lamp handle tighter. Her conscience shouted NO! Her heartbeat Yes! Yes! Yes! Over and over it rejoiced. Rejoiced in her chance to be with him, to steal these next precious hours until daybreak and hold them as hers no matter what the future held.
With her mind made up, she pushed open the door. Her breath caught. He stood with his back to her, dressed in h
is shirt and mud-streaked trousers. Her stomach quivered as she silently pushed the door closed, her eyes locked on his physique. He threw one of the two blankets Mrs. Lancaster had given them over a thick and wide layer of hay and straw he’d strewn on the floor.
Emily’s body tingled as she shamefully took in the wholly masculine sight of him. His shirt stretched across the breadth of his muscular back, the seams straining across his biceps as he slapped and smoothed the blanket. She flicked her tongue over dry lips. He was perfection. A wide triangular back, narrowing to a square taut backside and thick muscular thighs . . .
“I know you’re there, you know.”
She started and heat seared her face. Gathering her messy senses, Emily walked forward on trembling legs, grateful for the length of Mrs. Lancaster’s nightgown.
“It looks wonderful.”
He turned and his gaze travelled the length of her body. He grinned and his teeth showed white in the semidarkness. “I assume that nightgown fits Mrs. Lancaster very well. On you? Not so much.”
Emily laughed and forced her nerves into submission by executing a twirl. “I thank you.”
She forced herself to keep her gaze level with his in the hope she appeared confident and flirtatious rather than how she really felt—nervous and almost sick with apprehension.
His smile slipped. “You look beautiful.”
The drop in his voice, the thickening of its tone sent bolts of desire through Emily’s core. She held his gaze. “So do you.”
Her heart beat wildly and her hands shook but Emily strolled slowly forward until she stood inches from him.
His gaze moved from her eyes to her lips and back again. “Do you like the candles? It’s the best I could manage.”
Her gaze blurred with unexpected tears. He suddenly sounded so unsure, so vulnerable it melted her heart a little more. She blinked. “It’s perfect.”
He took the lantern from her trembling hand and placed it on an overturned box beside them. He stared deep into her eyes before lowering his lips to hers. Emily closed her eyes as a swarm of butterflies took flight in her stomach. She must be strong. Must show him she wanted this. If she exhibited even a moment’s hesitation, he might not take her—and she now wanted that more than anything.
He pulled away and Emily opened her eyes.
Gesturing toward the mattress, he smiled. “Shall we sit?”
She nodded and he took her hand, leading her to the mattress. Emily didn’t sit but lay straight back, her inhibitions gone, obliterated by the look of desire in his eyes. They widened with surprise for the briefest of seconds before he lay down beside her. His gaze travelled over her features and he brushed a fallen lock of hair from her face.
“Are you certain?”
She smiled as euphoria rose and burst in her chest. “Yes. I want this. I want you.”
His mouth came down on hers and Emily surrendered. She was his. He was all she needed. She refused to allow any residual trepidation to get the better of her. She trusted him. Maybe even loved him. She pulled him closer, her hands moving to his shoulders and up to the nape of his neck.
He groaned into her mouth and their kiss deepened as his hand slid from her waist and over the bump of her hip. The heat of his touch burned through the thin cotton of her nightdress, melting the last lingering doubts that she could make love to him. Lightning struck her heart when his lips moved from hers to kiss her jaw. She breathed his name into his hair.
His featherlight kisses travelled over her skin toward her ear and the curve of her neck. All those nights alone and ashamed as she touched her body, learning what it desired, had not prepared her for such sensations. His hands were a soothing balm to the open wound of her yearning heart. A wound she’d been waiting for Will Samson to heal.
Tonight she would be the person she wanted to be. The woman who made love to a man who made her feel as though she could change the world in a heartbeat. A man who made her stronger, not weaker. Happier, not lonelier.
Their lips met once more, their tongues entangling and discovering. After a moment, his lips dropped to her collarbone. Her senses heightened as he nipped and gently sucked at her sensitized skin, his hand drawing feverish circles over her thigh and hip. Emily clung to him, her eyes half-closed, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth. A strange ache beat in her breast and suddenly she yearned for the feel of his hands there.
Blindly, she reached for his fingers and eased them from her hip to her breast. She sensed his hesitation so she held his hand there until his muscles relaxed and his fingers teased her nipple. It hardened beneath his touch and when embarrassment threatened to emerge, Emily exhaled a shaky breath and opened her eyes. She needed to see the admiration in his eyes she’d come to adore. He smiled at her and she smiled back, her self-consciousness slipping away.
“I want to feel your skin.” His smile faltered.
“Then touch me.”
His fingers moved to her nightdress and he loosened the ribbons at her neck. With his eyes locked on hers, his fingers worked until the ribbons came free and cool air brushed her naked breasts. His gaze dropped lower and his eyes darkened to midnight blue as he stared at her bosom.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Emily shivered, desperate for more. He pulled away and took her hands in his. Silently, they lifted onto their knees. Dropping her hands, he pulled the shirt from his trousers and Emily watched. Anticipation, curiosity, and a huge dose of excitement kept her eyes on his chest.
When he tossed the shirt away, she drank in the sight of golden skin stretched taut over a hard chest and thickly muscled torso. A blush struck her face as Emily dropped her gaze lower. She shuddered with arousal. His trousers protruded at the groin. He desired her as much as she did him.
She shifted on the mattress, drawing the masses of nightdress material from beneath her. With trembling fingers, she gripped the hem and lifted it over her head. She tossed it away. The satin of her chemise was tight like a binding around her body, her knickers a restraint. With Will’s gaze so intently on hers, Emily lifted the chemise over her head and tossed it atop the nightgown. His gaze wandered over her bared bosom.
She stole backward and lay down. He came down beside her and their lips met. His kiss was firm and soft, possessive and needful. She scored her hands into his thick dark hair, her fingertips exploring the feel of his scalp, the wondrous shape of his head. He held her upper arms, his thumbs tickling the curve of her breasts. Feeling wonderfully wanton and sensual, she reached for his trousers and popped the button at the waistband.
“Emily.” He breathed her name into her mouth and she increased the pressure of the kiss, not daring to look at her shaking hands fumbling with the buttons of his trousers. One by one they came free and the heat of his erection against her naked thigh made her break their kiss. She looked down and swallowed. He was huge. Thick. God help her, he was beautiful.
She looked up.
He smiled and moved away from her. Standing, he lowered his trousers down strong, muscular thighs and stepped out of them. She averted her eyes, not daring to look again in case she lost her nerve. What would it feel like to have such a mammoth thing inside her? Her body shook but she smiled. It would feel wonderful. To be entirely joined to him.
She opened her eyes and arms. The relief in his beautiful blue gaze sealed their fate and he returned to her side. With no words spoken, he lowered his head to her breast and took one of her hardened nipples into his mouth. She gasped with pleasure as his tongue rolled over and around it, his hand stealing lower toward her most intimate place.
Instead of feeling afraid as she feared, she silently urged him on. Wanted to feel him touch where only she had touched. To bring her the pleasure she’d only given herself.
His hand slid over the cover of her underwear and then his mouth left her bosom. He lowered his body down onto the mattress. With achingly slow progress, he inched her knickers from her body, his lips following their path. Naked and vulnerable,
Emily trembled as he moved back up toward her, his mouth capturing hers.
She moved her hands to his shoulders and into his hair, urging him closer, kissing him deeper. He emitted a low growl and his fingers gently inched into her pubic hair. Emily sighed when they glided over the top and down the sides of her sensitized nub. She met his eyes and he rubbed her. Harder and harder he massaged her, his gaze never leaving hers. Emily clamped her teeth together and lifted her hips. Her breathing labored as the sensations built. His fingers were rough and masculine where hers were soft, his increasing friction intense yet filled with love and discovery.
He slipped his finger inside her and Emily gasped. He hesitated. “Let me do this, Emily. Let me see you surrender.”
Her eyes fluttered closed and she squirmed beneath his skillful hand. She smoothed her hand over his chest, his incredibly hard stomach, and through the dark curls at his groin. Inhaling, she took that final step and curled her fingers around his girth, slowly smoothing her hand back and forth; doing what felt natural and praying he liked it. He moaned his pleasure and Emily basked in the thrill of female power.
He was large in her palm, smooth like silk, hard and strong. Seemingly by instinct, he matched her rhythm with his fingers as her center pulsed. She fought to stop from crying out and letting her body have its release.
She wouldn’t. Not yet. She wanted more. Wanted to ride this wave, take the prize with Will travelling deep inside her. Her eyes snapped open. Primal lust burned in two blue-hot flames in his eyes.
“Will, please. Make love to me.”
His hand smoothed over her nub once, twice, three times before he hovered above her. She gently dropped his penis and raised her hands to his waist. Without word or instruction, he laid his legs within hers and Emily opened hers wide in welcome. His hand reached between their bodies and with gentle consideration, he slid tentatively inside her. She felt her resistance, his soft nudge and she broke. At last his body lay flat to hers and they were one.
He moved slowly, gently, until she stole her hands onto the taut firmness of his buttocks and pressed down. He closed his eyes, groaned, and picked up speed. She dug her nails deeper. The sensations roared. Her feelings soared. She lifted her hips, taking him deeper, holding him closer. On and on he urged her, his hips thrusting with joyous precision . . .
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