She had a defiant look on her face and for once in his life he controlled his temper and tried gentle persuasion. “Summer love, I know you don’t take very kindly to orders and that’s why I’m asking you, nay begging you, to have a care for your delicate condition.”
She placed both hands upon her abdomen and said hotly, “This baby means more to me than all the rest of you lumped together— the whole bloody world can go to hell in a handbasket for all I care!”
“Here comes the carriage with the supplies. Tell him where you want everything. I’ll go and see to Spencer and then I’m off. I promise to be back this afternoon.”
When she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she was horrified that Ruark had seen her looking her very worst. A rush of love and gratitude swept over her. Whatever would she have done if Ru hadn’t found her? She knew she didn’t want her marriage to him annulled. She wanted to be his very precious love, exactly as she had been until they came back from their honeymoon at Stowe and she’d ruined her whole life by confessing the truth to him. She leaned her head against the doorjamb. Perhaps she could persuade him to stay with her again tonight. If she bathed and changed into an alluring gown and acted sweet and feminine, perhaps she could dissuade him from going through with the annulment. She had seduced him into marriage once, why not again? The trick was to make him think she wanted the annulment desperately.
By the time Lord Helford returned with Mrs. Bishop it was three o’clock in the afternoon. Summer liked her immediately. She had a comfortable figure with a large expanse of bosom and seemed to take charge immediately. Summer could see she was kind and generous but not above using bullying tactics if that’s what it took to make people obey her. In a glance Mrs. Bishop took in Summer’s expanded waistline and said firmly, “No more climbing stairs for you, young lady.”
Ruark laughed. “Bish will get obedience from you, even if I can’t.”
“But I must show you to your bedchamber, Mrs. Bishop.”
Bish pointed to her trunk and gave Ruark a speaking glance. “He’s got two strong legs, he can show me my room and the patient. Then I’ll be in the kitchen getting us all some supper.”
Summer hid a smile. “Lord Helford will help you, he’s very good at hauling wood for the fires.”
“I can haul my own wood. Lord Helford can look after his wife. A woman needs pampering when she’s carrying her first child.”
Ruark carried up Mrs. Bishop’s trunk and returned immediately. Summer felt so shy with him that she actually blushed. He had obviously stopped somewhere to shave and change his clothes, and as always he was immaculate. She had set up a chessboard in front of the fire and the elegantly appointed room was intimately inviting. She had brushed her hair until its silken black mass cloaked her shoulders and she had chosen a silk gown the color of crushed raspberries, which outlined her breasts and fell in soft folds to her feet.
Ruark’s eyes smoldered as they lingered on her luscious breasts. He glanced at the chessboard and she said breathlessly, “We didn’t finish our play.” She saw him harden at her words and averted her eyes as if she were still a maiden. Summer sat down on the love seat before the fire, and reaching behind a cushion, pulled out the leather-bound volume her father had given to her. “Ruark, you know I want this annulment every bit as much as you do, but I see no reason why we can’t remain friends.” Her voice had a whispery, seductive quality which sent shivers up Ruark’s back. “As a parting gift … as a token between friends … I want you to have this journal. It will probably make your job in Cornwall much easier and perhaps less dangerous.”
He sat down beside her and opened the book curiously. “What is it?” he asked as he saw the dates and places and names.
“It’s a record of wrongdoing … of smuggling … of wrecking … of selling information to the highest bidder. There’s everything in there from murder to treason and I’m ashamed to say that nearly every prominent family in Cornwall had one or more members involved. When my father died, he gave it to me so I could blackmail these rich families for money.”
“Summer, didn’t you trust me enough when we married to give it to me?” he asked.
“Ruark, when you married me, I fancied myself so much in love, I would have trusted you to the ends of the earth. I always meant you to have it, only I was so ashamed that my father was involved in such vile things.”
He put a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face so that he looked deeply into her eyes. “I know you well enough to know you have the guts to blackmail someone.”
“Damn you, blackmail isn’t my style!” she cried, forgetting her resolve not to swear in front of him. “Don’t you think it would have been easier for me to get money from the journal than dressing up as a highwayman and robbing coaches?” she demanded. “All because you left me penniless,” she added, outraged.
“Have you any idea how magnificently beautiful you are when you lose your temper? I get you angry on purpose sometimes just to watch you.” He took hold of her hand and lifted it to his lips, lingering over each fingertip, each perfect nail oval. “Thank you for trusting me with the journal. I have discovered some of the treachery, of course, but it might have taken me years to ferret out all the bastards.”
His arm slid along the back of the love seat and his fingers began to play with her hair. “Ruark, I think Richard Grenvile is dead. I told you I saw him at Stowe when we were on our honeymoon. Do you remember?”
His arm came around her and he drew her to him. “Do I remember our honeymoon?” he asked huskily, a thousand erotic images stealing into his mind.
“I believe now that Grenvile was involved in treachery against the King. I think Rory killed him. I think you should be extremely careful around Rory.”
“Darling, I don’t intend to waste our lovely evening talking about that young devil, but I’ll put your mind at ease by telling you that Charles and I trust him completely. Don’t go sticking your pretty little nose in and messing things up,” he warned.
She brought her hands up against his chest; she could feel the crisp hairs beneath the snowy linen. She had warned him and it would be up to him to guard himself. She had no fear for him, for in a fight with any man, king or brother, he would emerge the victor. His closeness was having an unbelievable effect on her. Her senses were dizzy with the feel of him, the scent of him. “Now that the danger to Spencer is past, I suppose you’ll have to leave. …” she said wistfully.
“I’m staying,” he asserted.
“Staying to eat?” she asked innocently.
“Longer,” he said firmly.
Summer didn’t allow her expression to change but she was willing to bet he was “longer,” and if she teased him just a little more, she would feel his full length. “Oh, of course, I forgot our game,” she said, removing herself from the love seat.
He, too, stood up to remove his coat and pour them a little Chablis. “Winner’s choice,” he reminded her.
She took the proffered glass, accidentally brushing his hand with her fingertips, and said, “Let’s see, what do I want if I win?”
The tip of her tongue played about the edge of the glass and he said in a low, intense voice. “You know what I want.”
She teased him by giving him a hot, slanting glance and saying breathlessly, “I think you know what I want, Ru!”
He drained his glass and, slipping his hands around her back, pressed her buttocks forward so that her sensitive mons rubbed against his swollen sex. “What do you want, darling, tell me.”
She lifted her lips to within an inch of his and whispered, “The annulment, of course.”
“Damn,” he cursed, “you play the game well.”
“I had a superb teacher,” she said, tracing the outline of his top lip with her tongue. He swept her up into his arms, one hand going swiftly up her skirts to caress between her legs.
Mrs. Bishop pushed through the door, holding an enormous tray. “That’s right, carry her to the fire and I’ll set thi
s tray right here in front of the love seat.” She gave Ruark a warning glance. “Don’t eat everything in sight; remember, she’s eating for two now.”
Ruark scowled blackly and jerked his head in a signal for her to leave.
“You needn’t mee-maw at me, Lord Helford. I’m not so obtuse I don’t know when lovers want to be alone. I’ll just take myself upstairs now,” she said, winking broadly.
“Bloody woman—why the hell did I fetch her?” he muttered, and Summer buried her head against his throat to stifle her laughter. He sat her down and fed her. Tonight even eating was a sensual experience for them. Each time he put a morsel of food into her mouth she either licked his fingers, bit his fingers, or sucked his fingers. After each sip of wine he gave her, he touched his mouth to hers. Each of them savored the tantalizing arousal.
When they finished the food, they began a slow game of chess. Each knew they played two games at one time and the game of seduction was infinitely more absorbing. When he took a pawn, he also took the liberty of taking off a stocking. When she took his rook, she slowly removed his shirt.
He pulled the cushions from the love seat to make a nest for them on the floor. She agreed to join him, but only if they kept the board between them. He distracted her by playing with her bare toes, then running a fingertip across her bare sole. “Tickling is against the rules,” she purred.
“I always break the rules,” he warned as his strong fingers encircled her bare ankle and inched up her leg. The wine and the fire and the teasing heightened the sensual tension between them and one by one the barriers began to fall. Imperceptibly they drew closer to each other until his fingers were trailing the neckline of her gown and dipping into the deep cleft between her breasts.
Her own hands had begun to roam pleasurably over the rippling muscles of his shoulders and back. Then her hand slid down below the waistband of his breeches and her finger traced the cleft between his hard buttocks. She thought she had totally distracted him into moving his king into a vulnerable position and quickly moved her queen to take advantage of him. “Check,” he said triumphantly, “and mate,” he added, pushing her down onto the cushions and opening her gown to the waist. Her ripe breasts thrust upward into his waiting hands and he lifted them one at a time to receive a reverent kiss. The game was forgotten in the heat of the moment. In the game they now played, there would be no losers, they would each win their heart’s desire. When she made a pretense of clinging to her garments, he lured her into allowing him to remove them completely by whispering, “We only have till dawn!” He was entranced by the way the flickering firelight played over her satin skin, turning it to golden flame on her swelling breasts and belly, and darkest vermilion in the valley between luscious globes, and the much deeper, more intimate valley between her thighs. His fingers traced every curve, his eyes devoured her as she writhed seductively for him, opening and closing her legs like a tempting pagan goddess who would lure him to the very limit of his virility.
Ruark knew that foreplay for a woman was every bit as pleasurable as the consummation. When his shaft could swell and lengthen no further because of the confines of his tight breeches, he slipped them off and closed his eyes at the pleasurable sensation he experienced as his shaft filled until he was rigid. He gently rolled her onto her stomach and straddled her back, then he lowered himself until his face was buried in the silken, scented mass of her hair. His throbbing member pulsed against her back and his hands slipped beneath her to capture her sensitive breasts and brush his thumbs across her taut nipples.
Summer was determined not to moan and reveal her great need to be filled, but when Ruark whispered, “Tell me what it feels like when I’m deep inside you,” a small moan escaped her throat and he smiled triumphantly into the semidarkness. He climbed off her and gathered her into his lap so he could enjoy her mouth. His lips touched hers tentatively as if pleading, begging, then they became firm and gave her the hard kisses her senses craved at this moment. They they changed again, stopped giving and started taking until his mouth was scalding her in its fierce demands. As he became totally aggressive, she became totally submissive—all soft and womanly and willing—ready and eager to obey his body’s demands.
He watched her face through half-closed eyes and knew she was the loveliest woman who would ever come into his life. She attracted him like a lodestone and he was intimately aware of how deeply she was aroused by him. Together they were physically perfect. Their mating was like an erotic ballet, a dance of love they could draw out for hours of titillating bliss. How could she keep reminding him of the annulment when all he wanted to do was bind her to him forever?
He shifted her in his lap, lifting one bottom cheek to allow his erection to slide along the cleft between her legs. She moved back and forth upon him, teasing and tantalizing him to the point where he was now moaning deep in his throat. “Summer,” he whispered urgently, “I can’t live without you. When it’s official that we’re no longer married, will you be my mistress?”
She became still as death. She stopped moving, stopped breathing; she could have sworn that her heart stopped beating. With the pride of a Siamese cat she arched her body away from his and stood to face him. This wasn’t the first time he had done this to her, and it was like another slap in the face. “I’m not good enough to be Lady Helford, but you don’t want to lose me because I make such a damned good whore!”
“You’re the one who wants the annulment,” he ground out.
“You have never been more right,” she hissed. “Get out and don’t bother to come back!”
“I’ll leave after I get what I came for,” he growled.
“If you think I would allow you to make love to me now, you are mad!” she cried.
“Yes, mad … madder than I’ve been in my entire life. You’re nothing but a cockteaser to lead me on this far and then stop cold. What the hell do you think I am, some sort of machine? I’m flesh and blood, Summer. I’m a man!” Slowly, determinedly, he began to stalk her across the room. She moved quickly, managing to elude him each time he cornered her. At first she ran and repeatedly turned to look over her shoulder, but he always managed to gain on her. Now she dared not take her eyes from him. He was like a stealthy animal, circling his prey, sure of his victory. She backed away, hating him in that moment, yet incredibly she was still aware that he had the most superb male torso in all England.
Ruark moved slowly, blocking her escape, and suddenly she knew without a doubt that like the game of chess they’d played, he would check and mate. They tumbled to the carpet, but he was careful to cushion her fall with his body. He carried her back to the cushions and stood towering above her. His voice was rough with desire. “Darling, I’m not going to force you, but I am going to make love to you.” He went on his knees before her and she flew at him, biting, scratching, clawing, then taking fistfuls of hair and finally pounding at his chest with tight fists. He waited passively until she had exhausted herself. Then he spread her thighs apart and delicately traced the folds there with one fingertip. “You are slippery for me,” he said softly, then he deliberately licked his finger and slid it up inside her.
She was breathless from her exertions and hoped angrily he would not think he was arousing her. Her luscious breasts rose and fell with each deep breath she drew and she resented the pleasure he was receiving from simply looking at her nudity. His strong thumb unerringly found the little bud of her womanhood and stroked it relentlessly. She would not give him the satisfaction of a reaction, although it sent shock waves pulsing deep within. She lay limp and totally passive, sending him a message that he could do anything to her and she would receive no pleasure from it.
Very gently he took her legs and placed one on each of his shoulders then he dipped his head until his mouth took possession of her secret place. He began to suck gently, and though she willed it otherwise, she climaxed more strongly than she had since their honeymoon. Swiftly he lowered her from his insatiable mouth and impaled her deeply with h
is marble-hard weapon. He didn’t kiss her but held his mouth barely an inch from hers to feel every sigh, every delicious intake of breath, and his eyes caressed hers with love.
She was stubbornly determined not to let on that she was building to climax and Ruark scythed in and out, in and out, determinedly holding back until he brought her fulfillment. It seemed to go on forever, but Ruark knew he was fast reaching the peak of his endurance and would plunge over the abyss at any moment. His muscles strained tautly, his brain was on fire, his breathing became harsh and ragged, yet still he held himself under control. If he couldn’t master this woman, he didn’t deserve her. Then he felt it. Her sheath began to spasm, squeezing the sensitive head of his shaft, contracting tightly upon him, over and over until he lost control. Not by word, sound, or gesture did she let him know that she had come completely. With a smug little look of triumph she said, “I felt nothing.”
He allowed her her small deception. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, that I couldn’t satisfy you.”
“I’m not your sweetheart! I never want to see you again!”
“As you wish … but you will always be my sweetheart.” His lips brushed hers in a heartbreakingly tender kiss. Then he arose and quietly dressed himself.
After a week of frosty mornings the number of plague victims dropped dramatically to under five hundred. Spencer recovered quickly and knew the first thing he must do was go to Bruckner Hall in Oxford to tell the dreadful news about Edwin.
Mrs. Bishop now turned all her motherly attention upon Summer, feeding her until she felt like a goose being fattened for Christmas. Then one morning Lil Richwood returned from Southampton and the house was turned into a beehive of activity by all the servants. There was trouble in the kitchens with the pecking order because Mrs. Bishop was determined that she owned Summer body and soul and no one was allowed to trespass on her private domain. Summer’s peace was shattered and she wondered why Auntie Lil needed a dozen people to run her household when she had been perfectly content with just Mrs. Bishop.
The Pirate and the Pagan Page 40