Isobel felt her energy start to wane, and fought to stop her eyelids from drooping. “I feel so very tired, yet I cannot remember anything. Why is that?” She frowned at him in consternation.
“You have been seriously ill my darling. You have had us all worried.”
Easing onto the bed to sit beside her, he tenderly tucked an errant curl behind her ear before placing his lips there.
“I am so very glad you are going to be well,” he whispered softly, pressing a tender kiss on the soft skin of the temple. Closing his eyes for a few moments, he simply rejoiced in being able to absorb the essence of her.
“You kept giving me some foul drink,” she accused gently, lifting one tired eyelid in time to catch his slightly guilty look as she slowly shook her head.
After several moments of companionable silence, Dominic was certain she had fallen asleep again, only to jump with alarm when she spoke.
“Why am I in your room, and not in the sick room, or guest room?” Her voice held no accusation, just mild curiosity.
“We do not have a sick room here in Havistock, my dear,” he replied, pushing himself away from the bed. “The main suite is where you belong.”
“But I am a guest,” Isobel argued, silently cursing the exhaustion that once again gripped her.
“Not at Havistock darling. You will never be a guest here.”
Isobel tried to understand the significance of his words, but found her eyelids just wouldn’t cooperate. Making a mental note to ask him about it later, she fell into a deep healing sleep once more, content in the knowledge that he was nearby.
CHAPTER FIVE
Three and a half weeks later Isobel was feeling decidedly out of sorts. Despite her lingering weakness, being confined to bed was boring to say the least. She longed to be outside in the fresh air. It felt like she had spent most of the first few weeks at Dominic’s home either eating or sleeping, but could remember very little about it.
For the past few days she had been wide awake, and was now fighting growing frustration at her lack of activity.
She was so very sick of being tired and sick of being stuck in the bed.
Days were spent just lying in bed leaving her feeling more tired than she had when she had been walking all day!
Her wracking cough seemed to be getting worse instead of better.
It took every ounce of effort just to breathe, something she had managed to do so easily for all of her life seemed just so damned difficult.
If she ate any more of that infernal broth Cook insisted on sending up, she would throw the next bowl out of the window and be done with it!
Aaahhhh!
She fought the urge to thump her fists against the bed in temper, and glared moodily out of the window at the snow-covered ground.
Dominic, bless his heart, was becoming a pest. Whenever she awoke he was seated beside the bed, either stroking her hair or holding her hand. Always present while she slept. On a couple of occasions, she awoke to find him softly snoring in the chair beside the bed. The dark shadows beneath his eyes testament to his own tiredness that he seemingly refused to succumb to.
When she did wake up to find him in the chair, he had remained with her for a short time, patiently answering a plethora of questions as frankly as he could. He would sit and converse with her for quite a long time before taking his leave, ostensibly to allow her to rest.
By evening they would dine together, when he would gently tease smiles out of her if she was feeling decidedly glum, and patiently fill in parts of her arrival at the house that she couldn’t remember. Despite his generosity and kindness, she always considered there was something he was waiting for, something he was withholding from her, yet she couldn’t think of what that might be. Nor did she know how to ask him.
Maybe he was waiting for her to vacate his bed? But he had placed her there and wouldn’t consider moving her to a guest suite whenever she had suggested it, so what could be wrong?
Over the past couple of days, she was aware of a growing expectation that was driving her mad. Only this morning he had paid her a customary visit only for the tension between them to be palpable. Conversation, usually flowing and familiar, had become stilted and awkward. It was as though both of them had things they wanted to say, yet were loathed to broach the subjects they so desperately needed to raise.
She was frowning thoughtfully at the heavy snowfall beyond the window, when as though sensing her disquiet, he appeared in the doorway.
“What’s wrong my dear?” Dominic queried, eyeing the disgruntled scowl upon her face. He fought the urge to smile when she turned her fierce frown in his direction. Clearly, she was distinctly put out at something. Whatever had outraged her so much, had given her the first tinge of colour to her cheeks that he had seen since her arrival in his house. Her eyes spat shards of angry blue fire as she stared moodily at him. She reminded him of a disgruntled kitten. He knew that should he venture too far, he was very likely to get scratched.
Still, he was curious to discover how far he could go before his kitten scratched him. Swallowing his smile, he leaned a nonchalant shoulder against the door jam and raised a sardonic brow. It was good to see her positively bristling with temper. It was a sign she was returning to good heath.
Isobel pointedly ignored his question, instead glared at his cheerfulness. “You seem decidedly chirpy today,” she grumbled, eyeing his windswept ruggedness as he slowly sauntered across the room. God, he was handsome. Isobel eyed his tall frame as he casually wandered towards her.
“I have a lot to be chirpy about,” Dominic replied smoothly as he sat in his customary chair beside the bed. “What are you so disgruntled about?”
“I am so very fed up of being in this bed!” Isobel replied, giving in to a burst of temper. “It is time I got up.” Her scowl deepened as he slowly shook his head.
“You are not ready yet. You may have a relapse or something,” Dominic casually propped his booted feet atop of the covers she was trying to pull back, firmly securing her underneath.
Isobel sighed, eyeing his booted feet with disdain. Briefly, she considered thwacking his ankles until he removed them but eyeing his long length sprawled so comfortably in the chair, she just couldn’t find the heart to do so. Still, that couldn’t detract on her dissatisfaction with her weakened state.
“I am more likely to have a relapse if I lay in this bed much longer.” She knew she sounded waspish and ungrateful, but felt driven by something that refused to allow her to settle. “I want to get up. I have to get up. It’s driving me crazy being stuck in here.”
“I can understand my dear,” Dominic replied sympathetically. Given the length of time she had been recovering, he could fully understand her mounting frustration.
“Can you?” Her tone was dismissive. She felt certain he couldn’t understand just how sick of feeling useless she was.
“Yes. When I was injured in Spain, I was tended to by the locals. At first, I couldn’t move much. The inactivity of lying there day after day was impossible to cope with and I was only lying there for a week before I was moved to a ship and brought home.”
Isobel sat enthralled, suddenly too afraid to move and stop his confidences. It was the first time he had opened up to her about his injuries, which she knew he had sustained.
“How severe were your injuries?” Isobel’s tone softened as she considered his lying in a foreign country, badly injured with no easy way of returning home other than a moving and swaying ship.
Dominic stared at her solemnly for several minutes clearly battling something within. Isobel began to wonder if he would just ignore her question until he suddenly stood up and moved toward the door, closing it soundly with his booted heel. As he approached the bed, he began to ease off his jacket.
Stunned, Isobel watched closely, her temperature rising as he slowly unravelled his cravat before placing it carefully with his jacket at the end of the bed. Slowly, he undid the ties of his white shirt, pulling the edges out
of his riding breeches before swiftly pulling it over his head.
Despite the blush that marred her cheeks, her hungry eyes roamed the broad expanse of flesh that greeted her. His shoulders were indeed wide and firmly muscled. His broad chest was matted with a coarse dark hair that tapered downwards over the rippling muscles of his abdomen.
“Oh Lord,” Isobel gasped silently to herself as she shifted uncomfortably on the bed. She itched to reach out and touch him. Her eyes slowly traced the large length of puckered flesh that ran from under his rib cage around and across his abdomen below his navel.
Pulling the covers from her legs she eased upwards to sit on the side of the bed, her eyes locked on the puckered flesh of his stomach. Her eyes flickered upwards to find him watching her closely.
“Does it hurt?” she whispered softly, her gaze dropping back down. Gently, her fingers touched the flesh higher upon his ribs, pausing briefly as he sucked in a startled breath.
“No,” His voice sounded strangled yet another reassuring glimpse of his face revealed a tension that had not been there before.
Her touch feather-light continued downwards following the trail of the rugged and puckered flesh as it crossed him. His breathing had increased yet he made no move to pull away. ilence settled around them as she boldly explored him.
“God Isobel, you unman me.” Dominic choked as her lips feathered across his flesh. His treacherous body immediately responded to her nearness. With the kisses she was bestowing upon him, he was so hard and ready, he thought he would burst. If only she didn’t look down at the thick bulge of his breeches, he mused silently wondering if he had the strength to move away.
“You must have been in so much pain.” Isobel’s voice held only a touch of sadness for he would have considered it condescension should she be overly sympathetic to his endurance. Her lips reached the end of his scar directly in line with his belly button. Unable to withstand any more of her curiosity, Dominic slid his hands into the thickening mass of her hair and tugged her face upwards until she was looking at him. Her lips were pink and glistening; tempting him to taste and savour what was on offer.
“We can’t do this,” Dominic offered. Everything within him screamed at him to ease away. She had been so poorly, and was only just getting back to full health. In a valiant attempt to capture her attention, Dominic caught her hands on his and held them still, waiting until her eyes met his. He could see the questions in the beautiful blue depths, and mentally cursed as he felt the first cracks in his self control begin to form.
“Isobel, we mustn’t do this, you are too poorly,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers for several moments in a silent plea for understanding.
Isobel didn’t know whether to hit him, or kiss him. Drawing back, her gaze slid over the broad expanse of muscle on his chest. Her fingers positively itched to slide through the crinkly hair and see for herself if it really was as soft as it looked.
“Dominic, please?” she whispered. Although she was tired, she wasn’t that ill. She had spent several weeks doing nothing but rest. Her energy levels were getting better with each day, and if she had to lie in the bed next to the man who held her heart in his hands for any longer, she would not be held responsible for her actions.
A bigger man would have manfully withdrawn and re-donned his shirt. Dominic knew she already had command of his heart. He ruefully acknowledged that his body appeared to be hers too, if his immediate response to her nearness was any indication. His manhood ached with the need to relieve the pressure that was building beneath his breeches.
“Kiss me,” she demanded, pushing herself onto her knees upon the bed. She could sense his hesitation; his silent battle with his need to protect her, and his desire for her.
Before he had left for Norfolk several months ago, she would have been aghast at such wanton behaviour. Now, having endured life with everything familiar and dear to her cruelly snatched away, she had learnt to savour every opportunity. She wanted that opportunity now. She wanted him.
Sensing his hesitation, and with a boldness that surprised even her, she slowly slid her palms upwards across his chest, delighted at the hiss of his breath between clenched teeth at her progress. Emboldened by the fact he didn’t move away, Isobel slowly explored the dips and hollows of his chest, smoothing, seeking, committing each ripple of muscle and broad expanse of tanned flesh to memory as she traced the broad width of his shoulders. The need to reach upwards brought her face closer to his until she could feel his hot breath upon her cheek.
She moaned aloud as his hand tightened in her hair, tipping her head backwards to reveal her neck. His questing lips sought and found the long column of her white throat, his hot tongue laved the hollow at the bottom with his hot tongue. Her breasts tingled with anticipation as she brushed against his masculine heat.
“Isobel, we have to stop my darling,” Dominic groaned, placing tiny kisses upon her jaw. Inwardly, everything screamed at him to tumble her backwards and take what she was offering. The gentleman within him; the warrior; the protector; didn’t want to put any demands on her already recovering body.
“More please Dominic, I need you.” Isobel was unable to restrain the surge of recklessness that swept through her.For months, she had thought he was out of her reach, belonging to another. Since he had left for his secret mission her body had ached to feel his possession once again. She had cried and grieved for everything she thought she had lost. Now that she had it back, she was determined to savour every second of their time together.
“Isobel, you tempt me so.” Dominic tipped his head backwards to gaze blankly at the ceiling as she began to trail kisses upon the sensitised skin of his chest. His chest hair crinkled beneath her questing lips. Every nerve within him was quivering until he thought he would go quietly mad.
He drew her head upwards, and gently swept his over hers. His mouth was hot and demanding as his tongue probed deep into the moist recesses of her mouth. His hands shook when he slowly drew the long nightgown over her hips, breaking the kiss only long enough to pull it over her head and toss it carelessly onto the floor, before tumbling her backwards onto the bed and following her down.
Isobel moaned softly as the sensitive tips of her breasts brushed the coarse hair of his chest. Moist heat pooled between her thighs causing her to shift restlessly against the growing emptiness within her belly. She needed him to ease the ache. Only he would do. Gasping at the delicious sensations he was creating, she arched her back in mute appeal as his lips moved lower. Everything within her shook as his lips caught and teased the sensitive nipple, laving it carefully until she thought she would go quietly mad. The tugging sensation low in her tummy tightened as the moisture between her legs built.
Somehow he had loosened his breeches and broke away from her long enough to kick them off along with his boots before resuming his place upon the bed.
Sliding a hand along the slender curve of her side, he caressed the satin smooth skin from her shoulder to her hips, revelling in the warm softness. She shifted restlessly as his hand began to explore her flesh. Tugging his head upwards her lips explored his wantonly making him groan with delight.
“We need to slow down darling.” Dominic’s voice was a hoarse whisper in the silence of the room.
“No, I need you Dominic. Please don’t wait,” she gasped rubbing her breasts against his chest. Her hands swept down the length of his sides, desperately tugging him closer. As he complied, she felt the rigid length of his manhood against her thigh and paused. Curiosity drove her to look down at the large shaft, moist and glistening in readiness. With a shy glance upwards she gently trailed a finger down the silken heat, delighted as it quivered in response. Dominic groaned at the delicious sensations her curiosity was causing but knew he could not withstand the torture.
She moaned softly as he eased her legs apart before settling himself in between them. His probing fingers searching and finding her slick heat. Raising her hips in mute appeal she was rewarded as
his finger moved deep within.
Her body was slick with sweat, every nerve taught and quivering in readiness as she lay open to his delectation. Anything he demanded of her now she would readily give. Instinctively, she opened her legs wider to allow him access and cried aloud as his mouth rubbed over her nipples again and again.
“Please Dominic,” Isobel gasped, unsure what she was asking for but knowing only he could give it. In answer to her plea she felt the broad head of his shaft at her opening. Her body stretched to accommodate him until she was certain she could take no more. Sliding her fingers into his hair she held on to him as he placed random kisses around her flushed face. Her eyes met and held his as he gazed softly down at her while claiming his place inside of her.
Isobel had only experienced sensations like it the first time they had made love in Squire Benedict’s loft, the night before his departure. Deep inside her abdomen an aching void tightened until she thought she would burst. Her tight nipples, buried wantonly in his chest hair, furled in delight at the teasing of the coarseness until she thought she would scream. She had never in her life felt so close to anyone before and loved the sensation of being this close to Dominic once again.
As their bodies rocked in rhythmic splendour, for Isobel the world exploded into a myriad stars as her body gave into the sparkling glory of her release. Dominic’s groaned aloud in response to her scream of delight, unable to withstand the onslaught of her inner tightening gave himself over to his own release. Isobel could feel the warm heat of his release deep within and her body immediately clenched tighter around him.
“Oh God,” Dominic groaned stunned at the sensations being inside her was creating. Never in his life had he ever experienced such satisfaction making love to any of his previous lovers. Indeed, before Isobel, he was certain he had never truly made love to a woman. That was just sex. This was something far deeper. For several seconds, he lay panting and replete above her, his head resting next to hers upon the pillow as he tried to get his stunned senses under control again.
If You Were Mine Page 7