His big palms cupped her face. “I have every intention of giving you that opportunity.”
His mouth came down on hers. Iantha tensed for a moment. Then she ordered herself to relax, to concentrate on the feeling of his lips on hers, the warmth of his hands on her face, the bulge between his legs pressing against her.
For a heartbeat that sensation threatened to destroy the others. But why should it? Was it not the evidence of what he had just told her? Her touch brought about changes in his body that he could not control, just as his did to hers. She clasped her arms around his neck and rocked her hips forward.
With a groan he moved his hands to her bottom and pressed her against him. Taking a step back, he spread his legs and leaned against the wall. He lowered his lips to her throat, holding her body tightly against his erection. The heat of his breath against her skin started a dark, warm tension growing in Iantha’s lower body. It flowed from her belly down her legs, pooling between them.
Still holding her hips close with one hand, Rob began unfastening the ties of her wrapper and gown. Brushing the robe aside, he wrapped that arm around her waist and pressed his lips against the swell of her breast. The sensations in Iantha increased, and she arched her back, leaning her belly against him and allowing him access to her breast. Slowly his mouth and tongue made their way downward, leaving small tingling damp spots in their wake.
When he lifted her and his lips closed around her nipple, Iantha gasped aloud and clutched his shoulders. His breathing roughened, and his hips pulsed against hers. After several intoxicating seconds, he straightened and turned her so that her back was to the wall.
Kneeling before her, Rob opened her gown and cupped both breasts in his big palms. “God, you are so beautiful.” He began to tease her nipples with thumb and finger and looked up into her face. “I will stop if you wish, but…”
Iantha saw the unspoken plea in his eyes. She could only shake her head silently and drop her hands on his shoulders, gripping them hard. He closed his mouth around one nipple, his hand still in place on the other. Iantha heard herself moan, and he pulled her hips close with his free arm. Her legs began to tremble, and when her knees threatened to give way, she slid down the wall.
Rob grasped her waist and eased her to the floor. He stretched them both out side by side on the carpet, then returned his attention to her breasts. Any vestige of control deserted her. Her mind clutched futilely at it for a heartbeat.
And then, very deliberately, Iantha let it go.
She pressed herself upward to his mouth and hand. His free hand rested on her belly. Gradually the warmth of it moved lower, and she felt a tug as he raised the hem of her gown. Before she could react to that, he began to press gently on the focus of her sensation.
Gasping for breath, Iantha lifted her hips against his hand. The pressure increased, slowly circling. The tension became almost unbearable. And then, just as she was about to beg him to stop, it exploded. Every muscle in her body tightened. Feeling rippled outward from her legs, racing all the way to her face and to the tip of her toes. A loud cry sprang from her throat, only to be swallowed by Rob’s mouth over hers.
Then, gradually, the feelings disappeared, leaving Iantha limp and gasping.
She sobbed.
And Rob drew her to him, cradling her head in his hand, pressing her close. After a minute her weeping ceased. He eased away and looked down into her face, then dipped his head and kissed her tearstained cheeks. “Why are you weeping?”
Iantha shook her head. “It was just so…so overwhelming. I never felt anything like that.”
“It is a unique experience. Were you afraid?”
“I was for a moment,” she admitted. “But then…I don’t know. I just stopped thinking about it. Did I… Is how I reacted acceptable to you? Am I supposed to do that?”
“Oh, my dear wraith!” She felt the vibration of his chuckle against her breasts. “It was far more than acceptable. Your passion is a precious gift. I am humbly grateful.”
“Grateful? Do you mean it?”
“Completely.”
“Did you feel it also?”
“Not this time, but one day soon I will. We will feel it together.”
Suddenly she became aware of the hardness of his shaft still pressing against her. “Do you want…? I mean, do you need…” Iantha felt the blood flooding her face. “I believe that men, when they are aroused…”
Her husband laughed aloud. “Not now. This is enough for your first taste of ecstasy.”
“But you…” She shifted against his erection.
He groaned and moved back a little. “Enough. Not now. Unfortunately, men become aroused much more frequently than they are able to do anything about it.” He grimaced. “We are used to that. I will be all right. I enjoyed every second of having you in my arms. When you become a bit more comfortable with your own feelings, we will deal with mine. I don’t want to repeat anything that happened to you before just yet.”
Iantha looked at him in amazement.
“I assure you, my lord, nothing that you did this evening happened that night.”
Rob felt like a traitor. He had been dreaming of Shakti. Throwing the covers off, he sat on the side of the bed and let the cold air wash over him. Considering his earlier unfinished encounter with Iantha, it was no surprise that he had dreamed erotically.
But why Shakti?
He still felt her supple golden body against him. Felt her desire answering his. Heard her ecstatic cries. But Iantha had also given him her passion this evening. And she had offered him completion. It had been his choice to leave her after tucking her into bed.
The image of the waterfall she had painted for him swam into his consciousness. And her words—Or will I crumble, shattered by thy power? God forbid he bring that about. He must wait until he could be sure she was ready.
But, ah, he missed the free give and take of lovemaking.
He missed his family—dancing little Laki, golden Shakti. The empty loneliness welled up inside him. Rob walked to the window and stood looking out, tears trickling down his face. The fells lay bare and cold in the moonlight. No comfort there. He longed to walk into the next room, to lie down beside Iantha and hold her close.
But he did not dare.
He would never be able to contain his need for her.
At least he had some companionship with Iantha. Her bright mind ranged with his over innumerable subjects. He had begun to teach her to read some of his old manuscripts, and she talked with him about her poetry. He had never had that with Shakti.
But Iantha always seemed to be on the other side of some intangible, indefinable wall.
Out of reach.
Rob sighed and went back to bed.
The wall stood firmly in place this afternoon. Rob glanced at Iantha, who was staring out the window on her side of the coach. Last night’s experiment had gone well enough, but now they were back to the dance—one step forward, one step back. He had known from the start that he would need patience, but he hadn’t realized how hard it would be, being near her, wanting her, to maintain that patience.
In fact, he was very nearly out of it.
Rob leaned back in his corner of the seat and studied his elusive wife. She continued to gaze at the scenery.
Enough of this!
“Iantha, what are you thinking about so deeply?”
She started guiltily and threw him a hasty look over her shoulder. “Why…nothing important.”
“If you are thinking about last night, I consider it very important.” He kept his tone gentle.
Slowly Iantha faced him, a blush rising to her cheeks. “I… Yes, it is important.” She glanced out the window for a moment, then returned her gaze to him. “I feel embarrassed with you. I was so…so wanton.”
Rob chuckled and reached for her hand, closing his own around it. “Dear wraith, by definition a lady cannot be wanton with her own husband.”
“Well, no, I suppose not. Perhaps abandoned
is the word.” She scrutinized their clasped hands as though they were some interesting phenomenon which she had never before seen.
But she did not pull her hand away. Encouraged, Rob drew her toward him and brushed a light kiss across her lips. “It is only when both parties give in to abandon that we are able to fully realize the pleasure of making love.”
“Yet you did not do that last night.” She raised questioning eyes to his.
“No. I am afraid I would frighten you if I did.”
Iantha considered for a heartbeat. “Then as long as you are afraid of frightening me, you will not fully enjoy the experience.”
Rob shook his head. “No, but it is always wise to temper the wind to the shorn lamb. I am willing to wait, as long as we are coming closer. But every time we do, you back away again.”
“I’m sorry!” Dismay filled Iantha’s face. “I haven’t meant to do so. It is all so new…and I am not accustomed…” She sighed. “It has been a long time since I have been able to show affection to anyone, and lovemaking…” A frown puckered her brow. “It is so revealing.”
Rob took her other hand into his and held them both. “That is true. It reveals our inner selves as well as our bodies.”
She nodded. “Yes. That is why it is so hard for me, I think. But I am trying.”
“I know you are. I shouldn’t push you.”
“Perhaps I need a little pushing.” She smiled shyly.
“In that case…” Rob drew her across the seat and turned her so that she rested in his lap. “Making love in a carriage is no easy task, so we won’t attempt that. But you are cold again.” He pulled the lap rugs over them, and she snuggled against his shoulder. Rob rested his cheek against her hair.
And some of the loneliness faded away.
It had turned out to be very cold. A leaden sky accompanied them back to the Eyrie, and snow again looked likely. In spite of being in Rob’s arms for a large part of the journey, Iantha felt thoroughly chilled by the time they reached home. Even Rob was blowing on his hands to warm them as they came into the entry hall from the old castle. At the sound of their arrival, Gailsgill hurried to meet them.
“Welcome home, my lord…my lady. There is a good fire in the library, if you would like for me to bring tea.”
“Oh, thank you, Gailsgill.” Iantha let the butler take her wraps. “Tea would be very welcome.”
She started toward the library, but stopped to glance back at Rob. He was gathering up a stack of letters from the hall table. “I’m coming. We can look at these in comfort.”
Setting the post on the desk, he pulled two chairs close to the fire for them, then scooped the mail into their laps. Iantha found a bundle of letters from La Belle Assemblée and one from her older sister. She set these aside to read later, and looked at a small package tied with string.
“Who is that from?” Rob looked up from his own sorting.
Iantha turned the parcel over. “I don’t know. I don’t recognize the hand.”
“Let me.” With no further permission Rob took the package from her and tore it open. A slip of paper fell out and floated to the floor.
Iantha leaned over and picked it up, read it and gasped.
The message was written in crude block letters: “SOON.”
Dizziness threatened to overwhelm her. She let the paper fall back to the floor and turned to look at the object in Rob’s hands. It was a piece of crimson satin fabric. Rob unfolded it, revealing the holes cut for eyes and mouth. “What…?”
But Iantha knew.
Her husband held in his hands one of the masks she had seen in her nightmares for the last six years.
At the look on her face, he swore.
Suddenly the dizziness cleared, and something Iantha could hardly name surged through her. She sprang to her feet and snatched the abomination away from him. Her hands became claws as she dug her fingers into the holes and pulled. The fabric ripped with satisfying ease. Renewing her grip again and again, she rent the satin, her breathing becoming harsh and labored. When nothing but shreds were left of the mask, when she could do no further damage, Iantha turned and hurled the remnants into the fire.
With an outrush of breath she collapsed into the chair.
Her husband was looking at her with astonishment written large on his face. After several stunned moments he knelt and retrieved the note and added it to the blaze. Only then did he speak.
“Well done!”
Iantha felt strangely…well, strangely eager. And very liberated. In spite of its threat, destroying the mask had somehow banished her fear and allowed other emotions to come forward. How long had it been since she had felt anything but fear?
All of six long years.
Throughout dinner that evening, she had watched the play of her husband’s muscles under his clothes, the play of expression over his face. It changed from playful to serious to a warmth that started an answering heat in her. And she was beginning to discover the attractiveness of that heat. Rob’s gentle hands and strong body, his tender caresses, were in no wise like the abuse she had experienced from her attackers.
And he was holding back for her sake. Considering all he had offered her in comfort and understanding, a home of her own—in fact, the very opportunity to experience marriage and desire—Iantha felt she owed him a great deal. And all he seemed to want in return was for her to let him teach her to make love.
How could she not?
Tonight as she readied for bed, she had Camille lay out a nightgown that she had never before worn. It had been a wedding gift from her sister Andrea. The pure white silk of the neckline plunged almost to her waist, and the skirt clung in graceful folds to her hips and thighs. The sheer matching robe tied with two dainty bows at the bosom and fell open below the waist. Iantha shivered. She would no doubt be chilled in the ensemble, but wearing it was the least she could do for the man who was willing to give her so much.
Her maid had smiled knowingly when Iantha requested the gown, but as Camille brushed her mistress’s hair, Iantha could see a pout reflected in the mirror above the dressing table. Not knowing the young woman very well as yet, Iantha was uncertain whether she should inquire as to its source, or let it go unremarked.
But before she could decide, Camille smiled and tied her hair up with a ribbon. “Now, milady, his lordship will have the pleasure of untying it.”
Iantha flushed, not quite knowing how to respond, but smiled back. “Thank you, Camille. That will be all.”
The maid curtsied and let herself out of the room.
Iantha stared at the door to the sitting room.
After a few moments she drew a deep breath and marched toward it. When she entered the parlor, Rob was already sitting on the sofa, drinking his evening brandy and studying one of his old manuscripts. Still feeling a bit uncertain, Iantha walked to the fireplace and stood before it, warming herself, instead of sitting beside him.
Rob looked up and suddenly paused with his glass halfway to his lips, an expression of almost comic disbelief on his face. Iantha felt the hot blood flood her face. Very slowly and carefully, without taking his gaze from her, he set his glass on the end table.
After what seemed like a very long time, he grinned.
Chapter Thirteen
“Good evening, Lady Duncan. You look quite lovely.”
Iantha expected him to ask her to come and sit by him, but he did not do that immediately. Instead he gazed at her with an intensity that seemed to burn right through the filmy silk. Then he held out his arms. “You are even more entrancing with the firelight behind you, but I want you nearer.” He patted his leg. “Come and sit on my lap, beautiful lady.”
She could think of no answer, but still blushing, crossed to the sofa and let him settle her on his lap. She felt incredibly stiff and awkward, yet the warmth of his legs beneath her derriere felt incredibly nice. Iantha tried to smile.
Rob moved the manuscript out of harm’s way and set it on the table. Picking up his brandy
glass, he offered her a sip. She took a tiny one, then, feeling bolder, accepted a large swallow. The liquor burned a path down her throat, and she coughed.
“Not so fast. We have plenty of time this evening.” Rob took a taste, then offered her another, grinning. “Brandy, like other things, is intended to be savored.”
Iantha swallowed more cautiously this time. A pleasant sense of relaxation began to spread through her, warming her belly and her legs. Rob reached for the top tie on her robe and tugged gently. The bow came undone, revealing the skin above her breasts. She felt the blood rushing up her neck to her face.
Leaning forward, he placed a light kiss on her throat. “Fascinating. Your blushes go all over you.”
Rob held the glass to her lips, and she sipped again. He undid the second tie and brushed the silk away from her breasts. Slowly and carefully he covered one of them with his big palm. Iantha drew in a quick breath as the heat reached her nipple. Giving her one last swallow of the brandy, Rob drained the rest and set the glass aside. Still holding one breast, he kissed the valley between them, then began to kiss his way up to her mouth, leaving hot, moist spots on her skin.
As his lips touched hers, his fingers found the nipple, and Iantha moaned. Under her thighs she could feel his shaft grow hard. She shifted her hips, and suddenly his hand tightened and she heard his quick intake of breath. She shifted again.
“Ah, beautiful wraith, no more of that for now, or our pleasure will come to an untimely end.” He set her off his lap onto the sofa and slid to the floor, opening her knees so that he could kneel between them.
Oh, God! She felt so exposed. So vulnerable. Iantha tensed and covered her face with her hands.
Rob reached up and gently moved them aside, gazing solemnly into her eyes. “Shall I move?”
Before she could say, “Yes! Yes, move!” Iantha made herself take a long breath. This was the essence of marriage. She must deal with her fear. She must control… No. Not that. Just… “Just give me a moment.”
Patricia Frances Rowell Page 16