by Sandra Owens
“Claire.” He let go of her breast, pulled her face to his and put his mouth on hers.
Just that. Claire. But it was the way he said it, like hers was a sacred name, one to be whispered in reverence. She wanted to say to him, I love you, but he wasn’t ready to hear it so she held the words in her heart.
Oh, dear God. She was so close to something new and breathtaking. Something wondrous.
Chase squeezed his eyes closed and fought for control. The world as he knew it reeled on its axis. This woman was burrowing her way under his skin whether he wanted her to or not. She was so incredibly responsive and sensual. Christ, the things he could teach her if she belonged to him. He wanted to wrap her heat around him and never let go. A long suppressed yearning to love and be loved by someone special made itself known.
When she rubbed against his erection he knew he could have her, could remove his breeches and sink into her slick wetness. And he wanted to, badly. He slid his hand under her skirt and cradled her bottom. She stilled.
“No, don’t stop,” he rasped against her mouth.
“All right,” she said, and blessedly began to move. He slid a finger into her sheath. She was tight, dripping and hot. What would it feel like to bury himself deep inside her? She wouldn’t stop him.
No regrets, he reminded himself. He had made many promises in his life and had kept them all. He would keep this one. His breeches would stay buttoned.
Chase sucked her tongue into his mouth as his fingers mimicked the movements his cock ached to make. She moaned long and deep telling him she was close to release. She gasped for air and he pulled away from her mouth, wanting to watch her reach her first ever climax, wanted to see on her face what he had brought her to. Her eyes turned vague and she rubbed herself over his cock, hard and fast.
“Oh, God,” she said and he happily fell off the cliff with her. It was one of the most incredible climaxes he had ever experienced. And he had kept his promise and kept his clothes on. His laugh startled him. Never before had he exploded in his trousers—hadn’t been this green when he was a green boy. She had no idea the affect she had on him. That was probably a good thing.
Still breathing hard, she pushed away from his shoulder, hurt in her eyes. “Why are you laughing?”
He couldn’t tell her the truth. She would never understand. “Why do most people laugh?” he asked instead.
Her expression turned wary. “Because something’s funny?”
“Or because they are happy.” He trailed a finger across her soft lips.
“Oh,” she said and smiled.
Her smile went straight to his gut. It crossed his mind to say to hell with London and claim her here and now. But he had to be sure for his sake and for the twins. She already had the power to hurt him and that scared the hell out of him.
“Does this mean we don’t have to go to London?”
He put his hand behind her neck and pulled her to him for a last kiss, then gently pushed her away.
“We need to talk. Move over and I’ll refill our glasses.”
The light faded from her eyes. She scooted away and pulled her dress up, covering her beautiful breasts. Wordlessly, she turned her back to him and he buttoned her gown. She sat back on the sofa, putting space between them.
Her hair was mussed, her lips swollen from their kisses and her gown wrinkled. She looked like a woman who had been thoroughly ravished. He hadn’t thoroughly ravished her, but bloody hell, he wanted to. He hardened to life at the thought. The devil, he couldn’t be ready to go again so soon. His cock begged to differ.
She watched him like a skittish animal unsure of what was about to happen, and Chase regretted the caution he saw in her eyes. He didn’t want to wound her, he only needed to be sure he wasn’t a passing infatuation. How to explain it to her?
Standing, he picked up their glasses, went to the table and poured more champagne. He was going to have to tell her about Teresa and their marriage. His wife was the last person he wanted to talk about after what he’d just shared with Claire, but it was necessary.
He sighed and returned to the sofa. Handing her the champagne, he wondered how to begin. He walked a fine line by not telling her why he had to go through with his plan. But she needed to understand his motivations without knowing he wanted her for his wife. Shying away from talk of Teresa, he decided to address the issue of London.
“Claire, going to London is something you need to do for yourself. You have lived a sheltered life, too sheltered, and I don’t think you can possibly know your own mind until you have experienced a Season in town.”
Her eyes flashed angry sparks and she opened her mouth to speak. He held up his hand. “Please, allow me to finish and then I’ll listen to everything you have to say.” She nodded, but the anger stayed in her eyes.
“Your father shielded you from life, allowing you no friends and no way to learn about yourself. You went from the overbearing protection of him to a husband when you were more of a child than a woman.
“Even after four years of marriage, you have no life experiences to build your foundation on. Imagine a table laden down with all sorts of enticing foods. How can you truly know which treat to choose when you’ve never been allowed a taste of anything but the bread?” He winced. Did that even make sense?
“I want you,” she whispered and coward that he was, he pretended not to hear her.
Staring at the flicker of the candle’s flame, he returned to the past. “I loved my wife, Claire. The moment I set eyes on her, I said to myself, she is the one.”
Claire flinched at his soft words, shamed by her jealousy of a dead woman. Knowing he had more to say, she remained quiet.
Sometimes with a damaged horse she would patiently wait for him to put his past abuse up against the safe haven she offered. He would tentatively take one step toward her and stop. I’m wanting to trust you, but I’ve trusted before and look where it got me. It was his decision and she could do nothing more than wait for him to take a leap of faith.
So, she waited for Chase to take the leap and trust her with his hurts.
He glanced at her, then turned back to stare at the candle. Sometimes the horse couldn’t look at her either before he faced the past and put it behind him. Chase had no idea how much patience she had. She guessed a full three minutes passed before he began to speak again.
“Teresa was a year older than me and the sister of my closest friend. If you know anything of a gentleman’s code of honor then you know one doesn’t covet his friend’s sister, especially when that friend is a future duke. So I kept my love for her hidden, but it was here.”
He put his fist to his heart and glared at her. She wanted to smile, but didn’t. How amusing it was that men and male horses apparently had the same need for bluster. In her experience, a mare was always able to see the bright side of things faster than her male counterparts. That said much about females in general.
“Do you know what it means when someone refers to a man as a rogue?”
She nodded.
“Well, when she fell in love with Lord Hollingsworth and married him, I lived up to the definition. In an effort to forget her, I bedded every unmarried, experienced woman who looked twice at me. It is to my shame that I can’t remember many of their faces or names.”
Chase stared at her as if daring her to be offended. He had been hurt deeply, and even then, he had held to a code of honor. She didn’t think he realized he’d just told her he hadn’t touched married women or innocents. When she made no comment, he sighed.
“Then something terrible happened. She and Lord Hollingsworth were set upon by cutthroats as they were leaving France. Her beloved Harry was killed, and unspeakable things were done to her. She lost the baby she was carrying. I never wished for something like that to happen, but it did and there she was, back in my life again.”
Claire no longer felt jealous of his wife, only sadness for the woman who had lost so much and couldn’t heal.
“Eventua
lly we married. I knew she didn’t love me the way I loved her. But she liked me and I was her friend. I thought…” His voice trembled. “I thought the day would come when she would. Love me, that is. It didn’t.”
His last two words were said so softly, she almost didn’t hear them. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and comfort him the way he had her, but he needed to finish his story. The best thing she could do for him was to stay quiet and listen.
“We were going to have a baby, but then she died and took our child with her. The last word on her lips was Harry.” He closed his eyes and a single tear rolled down his cheek.
With his last sentence, he gave her the reason for his pain. Now she could comfort him. She crawled onto his lap and laid her head on his chest. His arms came around her and held her so tight she almost couldn’t breathe. She didn’t care. He rested his chin on her head and she thought about what he had said. Like her, he’d lost a child. At least, she had held her baby in her arms. Her heart wept for him.
“After Teresa...after she died, I made a decision to never marry again. I swore I would never be that vulnerable again.”
She understood him now. His choice of the word vulnerable had been telling. It had been awful his wife had died, but that wasn’t the root of his pain. No, he feared risking his heart and not having his love returned. Like her horses, he was going to have to believe she was his safe haven, to believe he could trust her with his heart.
“Do you understand, Claire?”
She did, better than he realized. But he didn’t need to know that. Not yet. She lifted her head and smiled. “I think so. Thank you for telling me. But know this. I want you in my life and in my bed. Forever and a day.”
Let him stew over that. She brushed her lips over his and before he could respond, she stood. “Good night, Chase.” She picked up Bensey’s drawing and left.
Forever and a day. If only he could believe her. This had been a strange night. Chase was drained, depleted in mind, body and soul. He hadn’t wanted to become sentimental when speaking of Teresa. He had meant to talk in a voice devoid of emotion as if he’d been reading a text on the latest farm implements.
But she was just too good of a listener. She hadn’t offered her opinion, hadn’t tried to tell him his decision to not marry again was ridiculous. Smart lady that she was, she was leaving it up to him to come to that conclusion on his own.
Forever and a day. The words held an enchantment that promised an ending of happily ever after. After tonight, he was surer of his feelings for her. It wasn’t love yet, but he believed he was headed in that direction. It wasn’t love at first sight like it had been with Teresa, but he was damned glad.
He liked Claire and she fascinated him. For a certainty, there was desire on both their parts. If he were to marry again, he wanted a wife who desired him as much as he did her. No more cold nights sleeping alone while the woman he loved sent him back to his chamber after the rare nights she allowed him into her bed. As for Claire, any concerns he might have had there had been put to rest tonight.
Then there were his sons. He believed her care for them was true and not something she was doing to impress him. He didn’t doubt she could grow to love them—a requirement he wouldn’t compromise on.
The one thing holding him back, the reason he would proceed with caution, was his fear that she wasn’t experienced enough to truly know he was the only one for her. It was the question he had to know the answer to.
So, nothing had changed. He would still take her to London and give her a Season, would introduce her to the best looking men, the richest men, and men with high ranking titles. If none turned her head then his heart would trust her.
She had put the words in his mind, and now he would accept nothing less from her than forever and a day.
Chapter Fifteen
After returning to her chamber, Claire donned her nightdress and curled up with Bensey’s drawing on the window seat. Bensey had a true artist’s eye and saw so much.
She studied her face first, seeing the happiness that shone from her eyes. It was the face of a woman in love. Bensey had seen it even if he was too young to understand, but had Chase?
She didn’t think he had and she hoped she was right. It was too soon for him to know she loved him. It was all right for him to think she wanted him, that she desired him. But he didn’t believe she had enough experience to know what she wanted and wouldn’t trust her love for him. He could give her a Season in London this year and the next and the next. It wouldn’t make any difference; she would still love him. Her heart knew what it wanted.
Holding the drawing up to the light, she studied the expression on Chase’s face. He stared down at her as if he wanted to swallow her whole. Yes, there was lust, but something more. She thought it might be longing, but maybe that was only wishful thinking. He’d claimed to have taken many women to his bed and she was sure most of them, if not all, were more experienced than she.
Why had he held back tonight? He must have known she would not have stopped him. He had given her a taste of pleasures she never knew existed and she wanted more. She wanted all of him. Should she continue on with her plan?
After careful consideration, she decided since she had come this far she should see the thing through to the end. But she would delay ignoring him for one day. It seemed wrong to start punishing him the day after he had trusted her with his hurts. Besides, his mother arrived tomorrow and it would be best she not act like a shrew toward Lady Anne’s son on the lady’s first day at Hillcrest.
Deciding she should go to bed and get some sleep, she stood and took the drawing to her bedside table, wanting Chase’s image close to her while she slept. It made her feel like he was watching over her, keeping her safe.
****
Turning onto his back, Chase peered at the window. The gray light of dawn showed through the edges of the curtains. His sleep had not been restful. Dreams—half remembered now—had plagued him throughout the night. In one, he had been dancing with Teresa. He had twirled her around and when she faced him again she had turned into Claire. Disconcerting, that.
In another, he vaguely recalled something about riding Mischief up the steps and into White’s. Why he would dream he rode the horse into his club, he hadn’t a clue. There was one dream he wished he didn’t remember. In it, he was attempting to draw a picture of a baby.
He turned over on his belly, pulled the pillow over his head and tried to go back to sleep. One hour of dreamless sleep, please, he begged his muddled mind. Just as he dozed off, his bed shook. The pillow lifted from his head, and he opened one eye to see Harry ogling him.
“Are you awake, Father?”
“No.” He pulled the pillow from Harry’s grasp, covered his face and tried to ignore the sound of the boy’s breathing. When it became obvious his son wasn’t going away, he lifted the edge of the pillow and peered at his son.
Harry grinned. “Are you awake now?”
Chase sighed. “Why are you here, in my room, in the middle of the night?”
Harry scrunched his eyebrows together. “But it isn’t the middle of the night.”
“Close enough. What do you want, Harry?”
“It’s time to meet Lady Claire for breakfast, and then I’m to have my lesson. Do you want to come with us?”
“No, I want to sleep. You go and have fun. Good bye.”
“Why don’t you want to come? I thought you liked Lady Claire.”
Pray save him from enthusiastic children appearing at his bedside at dawn. “I do like her, but right now I like sleep more. You may have Lady Claire all to yourself this morning.” He gave a limp wave with his hand. “Away with you now.”
“Splendid,” Harry exclaimed and took off.
Chase let the pillow fall back over his face and tried to return to sleep. Twenty minutes later, he realized that whatever chance he had of dozing off had disappeared with Harry’s appearance at his bedside. The elusive extra hour of sleep was regrettable. He c
ould have used it after his unsettled night. The blame for that rested on one particular woman.
I thought you liked Lady Claire, the boy had said. Chase snorted. “If you only knew, Harry.”
Sitting up, he ran his hands through his hair and yawned. Well, if he was to be awake this early, it was only fair Anders join him. He stood and stretched, then padded to the bell pull, tugging on it more times than were necessary. After slipping on his dressing gown, he made himself comfortable in a wing chair and waited.
The door slammed open and Anders stumbled into the room wearing breeches under his nightshirt and slippers on his feet. His hair stuck out in all directions looking as if he’d been caught in a whirlwind.
“My lord! What is the emergency?”
Chase let his eyes drift from his valet’s head down to his slippered feet, then back up to his disheveled hair. If only Bensey were here to capture this moment on paper. He could blackmail Anders for the remainder of his life with such a picture. In all the years he had known Anders, he’d never seen the man not dressed to the nines.
Chase raised a brow. “Who are you and what have you done with my valet?”
“What? Ah…I mean, pardon, my lord?”
The confusion on Anders’ face was priceless. Chase gave a dramatic sigh. “I detest repeating myself. I said, who are you and what have you done with my valet?”
Anders looked behind him, then back at Chase and frowned. “It is me, Anders. Are you not feeling quite the thing this morning, my lord?”
Well, he hadn’t been, but who knew having fun with one’s valet could cheer one up so marvelously. He might have to do it more often.
“If you truly are Anders, then I daresay it is you who isn’t feeling quite the thing.”
“What I feel is that I’m in the middle of a play and have forgotten my lines,” Anders grumbled.
The devil, but this was entertaining. “It’s not a play, it’s a farce and you have the lead role.”
“And my next line is, my lord?”
“Oh ho. You are vastly amusing this morning. Have you looked in a mirror lately?”