by Heather Boyd
“True.” And he’d never been so reluctant to return to the capital before.
She peeked at him from beneath her lashes. “It’ll be another year before I can talk to you again.”
He nodded, his heartbeat increasing at the idea she might miss him when he was in London. He eased closer until they sat side by side in the dark. “I must return to the city. I have responsibilities.”
“I know and do admire you for that. But, it becomes very quiet when you are gone. I don’t want to miss a moment.”
David’s thoughts tumbled over themselves. He, too, would miss her and treasured these stolen moments, more than he ever realized he would. David didn’t want them to end when he left. He wanted Abigail in his life. He stood and held out his hand. “Princess should be put to bed.”
Abigail laid her hand in his and allowed him to raise her to her feet. “She’s lovely. Where did she come from?”
He stood aside so she could enter his home first and quietly shut then locked the door behind them. They were alone; the first time he had willingly, intentionally, done something that might ruin her reputation. And he did not care. “I found her under a cabbage actually.”
“Really. I thought that sort of thing was simply for fairytales and little children’s bedtime stories.”
Abigail’s laughter filled his house, causing him to join in. “Hence my decision to name her Princess. Do you like her?”
“I do. She has a sweet disposition.”
“I wondered if you might take her.”
Her gaze rose to his. “I would love to, except I have no idea where I’ll be living soon.”
He took the pup and settled the animal back in her bed. “I’ve been giving that some thought tonight and I had considered offering Peter my house to live in until he could make other arrangements.”
Abigail backed from the room, one eye on the drowsy puppy. “He wouldn’t accept.”
David followed and joined her in the hall. Princess whimpered and then fell silent. He hoped she would be a deep sleeper tonight. “Then my offer would be to you. I know how much you love Brighton. It distresses me that I’ll be responsible for forcing you away.”
She pressed a finger to his lips, ending the string of apologies crowding his mind. “I’ll be fine, David. I’m not completely helpless.”
This business was in no way fair to her. “Even so.”
She drew closer, rose up on her toes, and brushed her lips against his in a fleeting kiss. “Shh, don’t worry about me so much.”
David searched her face, saw nothing but affection and trust there. He swallowed. He simply couldn’t walk away from Abigail when her future was so uncertain. “I don’t seem able to prevent that.”
She grinned. “Then you don’t really mind me being here.”
David lifted a hand to her cheek and stroked his thumb over the soft surface. No other woman had ever gotten under his skin like this. He could not, would not, fight the instinct to keep her close. To do everything he could to protect her and keep her for himself was imperative. There was only Abigail. “No. In fact, I think it would be best for you to stay.”
When she nodded, David scooped her into his arms and carried her upstairs to his bedchamber before she thought better of her decision.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Days of frustration fell away as David closed his bedchamber door behind them. Abigail had a look in her eye David liked very much. A look that said she agreed with his decision to make love to her tonight. He couldn’t deny his feelings for her if he wanted to, and he did not fight the joy this moment brought him. He slowly lowered her to her feet but kept her close as a bubble of happiness crowded his chest. “Abigail, you shouldn’t be here now, not yet anyway, but I won’t deny I want you more than I can say.”
“I’m exactly where I want to be,” she assured him. Abigail smiled shyly at him and he fell completely, irrevocably, in love with her as she kicked off her shoes.
He dipped his head, and skimmed his lips across hers.
Days between kisses faded. He was back in that moment when he knew he was doing wrong but was utterly powerless to stop. He should wait until they were married or at the very least wait until the marriage contract had been signed. But she touched his chest lightly and such a small sensation wasn’t enough. He pulled her firmly against his body and held her closer.
She said nothing to discourage him, but she encircled his neck with her arms and tangled her fingers into his hair at the nape. Goose flesh swept his body. David plundered her mouth, drinking in her taste, her warmth and her sweet response to his kisses.
When he drew back, she had closed her eyes. “Abigail,” he whispered.
Her lashes fluttered as she looked up at him. “David.”
He kissed her cheek, her neck, and across her collarbone. “I am afraid, as much as I admire how pretty you are this evening, I’m going to delight in mussing you up.”
Abigail tightened her grip about his neck and smiled up at him with bright trusting eyes. “I think I would like that. Tell me what to do?”
David sucked in a breath and ran his hands over her back. “Simply being here is enough. How could I be so fortunate as to win you?”
Abigail molded herself to him, her hands restless in his hair. David kissed her again with all the pent-up passion a week of wanting—and fighting that want—could provide. Tomorrow he would buy Abigail a pretty ring to place on her finger, speak to Peter to make their union official. She would never lack any comfort, but tonight he would make Abigail his forever.
He plunged his tongue into her mouth, tasting, teasing enough to make Abigail moan. He drew back to look at her. Her skin was flushed, lips parted and damp. He kissed her softly and then her eyes snapped opened again, shrewdly assessing him. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re wonderful?”
“No. But I’m sure I’m only that way because of you.”
Her hands fluttered over his chest and finally settled at the top of his waistcoat. She undid the first button and bit her lip. She moved her fingers down to the next and the next until his waistcoat hung open.
David lifted his hands to her beautiful hair and carefully removed the pins. The pale strands tumbled down her back in waves and he tossed the pins over his shoulder as impatience seized him. He ran his fingers through the strands. “This is the second time I’ve seen your hair down.”
Abigail pushed his coat and waistcoat from his shoulders and they fell to the floor in a messy heap. A frown marred her brow. “When was the first?”
“You were seven, I think, and tangled in a tree. Your hair has grown since then.”
A small laugh left her lips. “All of me has grown since then.”
“I noticed.” He kissed the tip of her nose, rather humbled that he would be her first and last lover. He would make sure she never regretted her choice. “You take my breath away with your beauty.”
Abigail rose on her toes and caught his mouth with hers. David cupped her head, secured his fingers in her hair and surrendered to his fate—Abigail.
She caught his shirt and pulled the material free of his trousers. Her hands slid over his skin and he sucked in a shocked gasp. His body strained for more.
David fumbled for the fastenings of her gown but their location defeated him. “I’m all thumbs,” he said in apology.
A smile flittered across Abigail’s face as she stepped back. “Here. It opens this way.”
She pulled a cord at the neck and thanks to the little sleeves, the gown loosened enough to slide to her hips without a struggle. She wriggled a bit and the fabric fell to her feet. David’s pulse raced. She stood in just her chemise, her small breasts peaked and visible through the thin garment.
He caught her hand in his and raised it to his lips. “I am unworthy of such a gift, but I would be an utter fool not to accept.”
He kissed the back of her hand, and then her palm. Slowly, he drew his lips up the length of her arm until she was once more standing in hi
s embrace. Her breasts brushed his chest with each unsteady breath she took.
“Do people make love standing up? If so, I’m not sure my limbs will hold me.”
David swept her into his arms again and carried her to his bed. He lowered her gently to the mattress and stood back. So lovely. He kicked off his footwear before he followed. “Not always. You need never do anything you don’t want. This can be enough.”
“It’s not enough,” she whispered unsteadily. “It couldn’t possibly be.”
She brought herself against him, rubbing like a cat and kissing him until he lost all reason. Her chemise disappeared quickly, as did his shirt and breeches. When they were both naked and panting, David drew her under him and kissed her nose. “I never imagined this when I came home, but I doubt I will ever forget this summer.”
He smoothed a hand down her side and along her thigh before hooking her leg around his thigh. Abigail shifted, opening herself to him and tightened her hold. “No more talk.”
She rose to kiss him again and teased him with her tongue. He groaned and shifted his hips until he brushed her curls with his erection. He drew back. “I’m told this, making love the first time, may not be pleasant for you.”
She cupped his face. “Nothing you could do would ever disappoint me.”
David pushed against her, discovering her body was closed to him. He rocked his hips, prepared to take things as slow as she needed to avoid injuring her more than necessary. Wet warmth claimed him as he inched further inside. He slowed his advance and kissed her lips. Abigail panted but her expression showed no pain.
He smoothed the hair from her cheek, and then lifted his weight from her body. The movement drove him deeper and a quick flicker of pain crossed her face. He stopped until she relaxed. Then moved again, claiming her as gently as he could.
When he reached her limit, he fell to one arm and kissed her mouth. “Are you all right, my love?”
Her breath came in little pants, drawing his attention to her untouched breasts. “Is there more?”
He slowly covered the perfect mound and stroked his thumb over the hard peak until she gasped. There were any number of sensual pleasures a devoted and thorough man could share with his wife. David would delight in each and every moment. “So much more, I promise you.”
He drew back and thrust in, watching Abigail for signs of pain. His slow approach had worked well, for after a time she clung to him, fingers digging into his back and moaning softly to each thrust. David had never felt so alive before. So connected to another person. Making love to Abigail was more fulfilling than he’d ever dreamed. He slowed his thrusts and deepened them, aiming to bring her greater pleasure.
Abigail’s eyes widened as he filled her. Her head tipped back and she pressed her lips together. He brought his mouth beside her ear and nibbled at her throat. “Tell me. Don’t hold back.”
She gasped and clutched at him. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Do you want me to stop?” Given the way she held onto him, he thought he knew the answer.
“Don’t stop. Don’t. Don’t. Never. Never. Never stop.” More words tumbled from her lips. Words pleading for something she couldn’t name. David held her tightly to him, giving up his own needs altogether in order to provide Abigail with sensations she required most. Her fingers bit deeper into his skin, her thighs tightened around his hips and a wail suddenly left her mouth.
He held himself still as she shuddered, drinking in the pleasure of her first release. However, he couldn’t remain so for long and he quickly succumbed to desire, whispering her name against her throat as he climaxed. When she relaxed, he withdrew, still hard, still desiring more but afraid he was crushing her.
He eased onto his side, drew Abigail against his chest, and plotted out their new future. In the morning he would write to his partner at the bank, explain why he wouldn’t return as planned and ask him to call in a few favors: namely the purchase of a special license to marry as quickly as possible and to organize the lease of a larger and far nicer apartment. Knight had excellent taste and good connections. He could have it all arranged, and David would move in, before Abigail even arrived in the capital. Once his letter was on its way, he would meet with Peter Watson and ask for Abigail’s hand in marriage.
Abigail pressed her lips to his chest. “David.”
“Yes, my love.”
“Hmm,” she murmured sleepily as she cuddled against him. “I like the way you say that.”
“Good, because I intend to use the endearment often.” He ran a hand down her spine, over her hip and along her leg as far as he could reach. Her skin was silky soft, and so very tempting. She snuggled closer to him, pressing against his erection that hadn’t softened very much.
She stroked her hands over his shoulders, fingers brushing over his skin possessively, and swept down his sides. “Are you all right?”
“That is the question I should be asking you.” David laughed softly. “But I’ve never felt better in my life, Abigail. I hope you feel the same. Thank you for seducing me.”
She sat up suddenly, hair tangled and free across her breasts. “Did I do that? Really?”
He smiled and lay back with an arm behind his head. “I believe you did.”
Her eyebrows rose as if she found the idea ridiculous and then she climbed on top of him, thighs holding him in place beneath her slight weight, soft hands pressed to his chest, hips perilously close to his lingering erection. “I would never have believed I could before tonight,” she murmured.
He pushed her hair aside to expand his splendid view of her body. “You seduce me with every breath you take.”
He brushed a thumb over a nipple until it hardened to a tight peak. When Abigail took her bottom lip between her teeth, he brushed over it again. Her lips curled into a broad smile and she leaned down to kiss him. Powerless to resist, David kissed her in return and then showed her there was more than one way to make love.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Abigail suffered Imogen’s embrace in a state of utter shock as her friend whispered in her ear, “Now we will be sisters. No matter what happens we will always have each other.”
She drew away slowly. She’d only caught a few hours rest last night and her mind was a little fuzzy still. “Excuse me, but did you just say you were to be married?”
Imogen’s smile dimmed. “Yes, that is exactly what I said.”
Abigail squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again. She sat in her brother’s parlor, taking tea with her best friend and for a change her brother appeared attentive. She must be dreaming this nightmare. “To each other?”
“Well, of course to each other,” her brother bit out.
So she had heard correctly. Her brother and best friend were to be married at the end of the month. Yet Abigail couldn’t fathom how a union between them could possibly work. They barely spoke, and Peter always left the house when Imogen came to pay a social call. They were not marrying for love.
Imogen’s smile brightened suddenly. “Are you not happy for us, Abigail?”
She quickly caught her friend’s hands, noting the cold clamminess of her fingers and the fervent return grip. Perhaps Imogen wasn’t as confident about getting married to Peter as she had first appeared to be. Had she been tricked into it?
Since her brother hovered at Imogen’s side, she couldn’t ask her question right now. But later, she would get to the bottom of what Peter had done. She would support Imogen’s decision to call off the union if she had been forced to act against her better judgment.
“Of course I am.” She forced a smile and made an effort to act normally. “It’s just so unexpected and sudden. I had no idea my brother was so enamored of you he would bring himself to the point. I hope you were suitably romantic, Peter. Imogen deserves the very best.”
Imogen’s gaze dipped to their joined hands and she drew away.
“Sometimes a swift decision about these matters is for the best,” Peter mumbled, throwing a
quick glance behind him as if looking for someone. “Would you excuse me for a moment?”
When he was gone, Abigail peered into Imogen’s face. “Tell me exactly how he came to propose. Quickly, before he returns.”
Imogen sighed. “Another time. I must be going. I have an appointment with Mr. Hawke shortly. I simply wanted you to know everything will come good now. You’ll never have to leave Brighton or this house. You have my word everything will be well again.”
Imogen gave her one last long hug and then hurried out, without lingering to say farewell to Peter. A vast silence stretched in her wake. This was not a love match. Not even close. The stiff formality between Imogen and Peter left her in no doubt they were ill suited to be in each other’s pockets for the rest of her life. How soon would they regret their hasty decision?
Abigail knew exactly what love felt like. She was certainly in love with David and had hardly been able to tear herself away from his bed in the early hours of the morning. She had no regrets about giving herself to him. He cared for her and in time, perhaps, he would come to love her just as strongly as she did him. If he proposed, she would happily move to London.
But her first concern now had to be extracting her friend from this farcical arrangement. Imogen would not be happy as Peter’s wife.
She turned and went in search of her brother. Peter stood in the dining room, appearing deep in thought as he stared out at the garden.
When he didn’t acknowledge her presence, Abigail cleared her throat to get his attention. “What have you done?”
His brow creased as he turned around. “I’ve done what’s best for you.”
“Best for me?” Abigail’s blood boiled. “What about what is best for her? How can marrying my best friend be in any way good? You’re not in love. Don’t deny it.”
“You place too much value on love,” he mumbled. “This arrangement will save us.”
“Arrangement! And who will save Imogen from you? She deserves to marry someone who will look after her, not a man who doesn’t appreciate her sacrifice,” she bit out savagely.