By the time she reached the inn, her stomach was a quivering jumble of knots. She pulled her hood far over her face to hide herself from view, but once she entered the smelly, dank inn, she realized she need not worry. No one was there except a large man sitting behind the counter drying glasses. As she approached the bar, he stopped what he was doing and glanced up at her. His eyes, keen and the color of a winter sky before a storm, stilled her for a moment.
When he smiled, she relaxed at the obvious friendliness of his gaze. He stood, a tall, towering, broad-shouldered man, and set the glass down with unexpected gentleness for someone of his size. “How might I help ye, miss?”
He spoke in a thick Scottish brogue.
“I’m looking for a man. A duke to be precise.”
“Ye’d not be the first woman to come strollin’ in here lookin’ for a duke.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. Perhaps this had been a dreadful mistake. Going out in the dark alone―what had she been thinking? If she was found out― She snapped the useless thought off. If she was found out, so be it. She refused to lose Colin without a fight.
“I’m looking for the Duke of Aversley. Do you know him?”
“Aye. I know him.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “Have you seen him?”
“Aye. I’ve seen him. Have you?” The man quirked a thick eyebrow at her.
“Yes. I―” How honest should she be? She suspected this might be the man Colin had said could help him. “He was taking care of an indelicate situation for me.”
“Was he now?” The man set his large hand on the bar and leaned toward her, interest obvious in his eye. “Pull yer cloak off yer face for me.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“No need to beg, milady. I just need to see if ye are who I think ye might be before I tell ye what I think ye might be wantin’ to know.”
She immediately yanked her cloak away from her face.
“Oh aye.” He smiled broadly. “Yer definitely the lady who is helping him with his devil.”
“I’m what?”
“Ask him. ’Tis his story to tell. Not mine.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“Aye. Upstairs using my room to wash up. We had to dispose of something messy, but I assume ye know all about that.”
She pressed a hand to her throat. “You two didn’t kill Lord Huntington did you?”
“No, though personally I would’ve done him in. Ye English let a wee bit more pass without retribution than we Scots ever would. Where I come from, we answer a wrong loud and clear. Ye English tend to respond with a proper whisper, but I did exactly as Aversley bade me. Go up the stairs to find him. He’s in the first room on the left. Mind ye tell him to bring ye back down the back way if it’s more than an hour. A rowdy crowd will be here by then.”
She nodded and hurried toward the stairs with a pounding heart. When she reached the first door on the left, she knocked, but no one answered. Taking a deep breath, she pounded on the door once more, but impatience got the best of her and she tried the handle. It was open, which seemed an invitation to enter. As she strode into the candlelit room, the sound of a rich baritone voice floated to her and the scent of soap filled the air.
She furrowed her brow and glanced around. This was not one room but two, and though she could hear Colin, she could not see him. But the ballad he sang made her smile. She knew “Oh, Tell Me How From Love To Fly” very well. A memory flashed of her father singing it to her mother in the garden one sunny day.
As she tiptoed toward the room where his singing came from, another sound greeted her, but it was not until she peered through the door into the smaller chamber that she realized what she had been hearing was the swish of water.
Colin stood magnificently naked in a metal tub in the middle of a sparse, small room. His face, eyes closed, was tilted to the bucket he had raised over his head. Amelia’s lips parted in shock as much as admiration. Warmth flooded through her, and deep within, an ache pulsed to life and awoke desire so fierce she felt as if she were suddenly fragmented.
She took each breath as quietly as possible, wanting to revel in this moment and imprint this picture in her mind forever. He stood with his legs spread apart, the muscles defined by rises and dips under the thin veil of golden hair that covered his long, powerful legs. She trailed her gaze slowly between his legs, and instantly the pulse low in her belly contracted in a wickedly wonderful way. The most intimate part of her tingled to awareness in the space of a breath.
He suddenly stopped singing and upturned the bucket, his heavily muscled arms flexing slightly with the movement, and the hard plane of his abs tensed to make a ripple over the ridges of muscle and skin. Water swished out of the bucket and over his hair, washing it in a dark-gold wave back over his forehead to expose his strong jaw line. Streams sluiced down his broad chest and trailed in tempting, glistening rivulets all the way down his legs to disappear into the tin tub.
She sighed with pleasure, realizing when the sound came out that she had made the noise out loud. He lowered the bucket as his eyes flew open. His hazel gaze met hers. Cocking his head, he squeezed his eyes shut then slowly opened them again and stared.
“For a moment I thought I’d conjured your image, because of my anticipation to see you, but I can hear you breathing, so unless I’ve run mad, you are real. Here. And standing there, staring at me naked.”
A blush seared her face, and she immediately turned away. “I’m sorry. I was taken by surprise.”
Water sloshed, and his feet padded against the floor, stopping directly behind. The heat of his body enveloped her, and the scent of soap surrounded her. He bent his head low, so that droplets of water from his wet hair dripped on her shoulder and soaked through the thin material of her cloak and gown.
“Pity,” he murmured in deep seductive voice that made her stomach flutter. “I was hoping you were standing there so silent and secretive because you were admiring me. If I came upon you naked and bathing, I know I’d stand there like a statue drinking in your beauty for as long as I could.”
She swiveled toward him, and she was almost too close to him to complete the turn. The minute she faced him, he raised his arms to either side of her shoulders and pressed his hands against the door as he closed it. She leaned away, her back touching the wood, to gaze up at him. “I was admiring you and drinking you in.”
“That’s better,” he said with a lazy alluring smile, but then his face grew serious. “Amelia, please say you can forgive me. I vow to God that I love you. I was stupid and untrusting, but I will never keep a secret from you again.”
Her heart expanded with all her love for him. She cupped his cheek. “I will forgive you if you can forgive me for so being so silly and running away from you. I should have not let my anger get the best of me. I used to be so sensible before I met you. In fact, I had a secret habit of referring to myself as an Elinor.”
“From Pride and Prejudice?”
Amelia blinked at him in surprise. “How did you know that? Have you read it?”
A flush covered his face this time. “You must swear never to divulge my secret, my dear. It will destroy my reputation as a cold hearted rake.”
“Then I shall shout it from the rooftops,” she teased.
“Little minx.” He brushed his lips over hers then slowly traced his tongue over her upper lip and then her lower one.
When he drew away, she traced a finger over her tingling lips and stared at him.
He raised his hand and gently brushed her hair out of her eyes. “You are looking at me like you are wondering something.”
Now it was her turn to blush again. She was thinking that if she were to write a romance the hero would dash right back to the heroine, not take a leisurely bath. Maybe her hero had a good reason. “Why didn’t you return to me right away?”
“I did not think you would want me returning to your home with blood on my clothes, as well as my person. That would make for an aw
kward presentation when I asked you to marry me.”
Amelia’s chest expanded, and she fought back her smile. “Does this mean you love me still with utter devotion?” She loved that she could tease him, but truly she wanted him to say the words again.
“God help you, I do. I love you madly. Senselessly, yet sensibly. You are stuck with me, I’m afraid. That is, if you love me the same as I do you.”
“I do, Colin.” She stood on her tiptoes and crushed her mouth to his for a long lingering kiss. “I love you so very much it scares me.”
“I’ve a healthy dose of fear over loving you, as well, but I fear not loving you more.”
Amelia pressed her cheek to his chest, hearing his thundering heart beneath the taut muscle. “I have loved you since that day at Hyde Park―likely before―and once I realized what true love was, what it felt like, I knew there was no other man for me but you. And it had positively nothing to do with your title or wealth, but everything to do with your heart, mind and soul.”
His lips brushed against hers as he spoke. “I love you because you are loyal.”
She frowned. “Dogs are loyal.”
His eyes flashed with humor. “True. But I would not sleep with a dog.”
“That’s very good to know.”
“And dogs are not so beautiful that my heart constricts when I look at them.” He kissed her forehead. “A dog cannot put me in my place with a witty rejoinder, or dance with me, or stroll and talk of flowers, or simply hold my hand. A dog cannot understand my wretched past and forgive it and still love me, despite all my flaws.”
“My love,” she breathed the words into his mouth as her arms skimmed up his naked torso and clung to his slick shoulders. “I love you all the more because of your flaws and your past. Not in spite of them. Both have shaped you into the man you are. I’d not have you any other way.”
He slid his arms around her and gathered her tightly to him before burying his face in her neck. His warm breath tickled her skin as he spoke. “That’s very good to hear because I cannot imagine my life without you.”
Heat radiated through her chest, leaving her breathless and tingly. “Colin, I don’t want to go home just yet.”
He pulled back and grinned down at her. “You want to watch me bathe some more? I’ll need to take my towel off.” His voice vibrated, and he glanced down at the towel tucked around his abdomen.
“I’ll take that off for you,” she replied, pouring every fraction of her desire into her tone. “I want to bathe you, and then you can bathe me. Let us wash each other clean, and then we will begin again. New. Tonight. In each other’s arms. Replacing whatever came before with only memories of us.”
The tension that had been a constant part of Colin’s life for as long as he could remember faded with her words. He pulled her to him once again, marveling at how soft her body was. He’d never taken the time to enjoy the simple pleasure of holding a totally clothed woman; before Amelia, he had not seen the point. His eyes burned suddenly. Bloody hell. The woman had reduced him to near tears. He quickly blinked, until his vision cleared and he could focus on her.
“Amelia, I love you. I never thought I would want to love a woman, but all I can think of is how I want to hold you close and cherish you forever. I’ve turned into my father, only now I realize it’s a very good thing indeed to love another so intensely that it touches your soul. Though I vow I will never do to you what my father did to my mother.”
“What do you mean?”
Colin quickly told her all his mother had told him, wanting to have nothing but truth between them.
“Oh dear. How awful for all of you.” She ran her hand over his lips, softly, reverently. “I feel certain your father had many wonderful qualities, and he obviously loved your mother to depths that tortured him, but promise me you would never make such a vow.”
Colin brushed a hand over her high cheekbone and down to the base of her neck to the spot where her pulse beat. He gently laid his fingers there, savoring the strength of the woman he adored. “The only vow I will ever make is this one. I promise to always and forever love you, worship your body, and share all my fears with you. Every annoying one. And if there ever comes a time I feel the need to make a promise to God, I will carefully word it and make certain you approve.”
“If I’m not available?”
He chuckled. “Minx. You’ve thought of everything. I’ll ask…” Who could he ask?
“Your mother,” Amelia supplied. “She above all will understand the importance of properly worded promises.”
Colin’s heart squeezed painfully. “Thank you, Amelia.”
“For what?”
“For accepting not only my jaded, used self but for accepting my mother and all that goes with her.”
She crooked a finger at him. “Come now with me and accept what I have to give you.” She brushed past him, her cloak falling in a dark puddle at her feet. When she reached the tin tub, she paused, lifted her hair and glanced over her shoulder at him. “Will you unhook me?”
He walked slowly to her, his heart thundering like he was a green lad about to lie with his first woman. The notion made him want to throw back his head and laugh with gratitude. He lifted his trembling hands to her fasteners and paused, a smile stretching his lips. Never had a woman made him tremble. He savored every hook down to the very last one that rested at the delectable curve of her bottom.
Slipping his hands under the shoulders of her gown, he slid the garment down her delicate skin and let it fall to her feet. She stepped out of it and turned to him, her arms not coming across her chemise-clad breasts in the protective manner he was expecting but opening wide and welcoming. “Come to me, Colin. Hold me and love me. Make me yours.”
Within moments, they stood face-to-face, completely naked, and she raised her glorious, trusting face to his. “You are beautiful, Colin, but here”―she placed a warm palm on his heart―“is where you take my breath away, and all my love with it.”
A frantic need to have her came over him. He pulled her to him and plunged his hands into her luxurious hair. Their lips met in a frenzy of exploration, need and desire. He skimmed his hands up her slender stomach and spread his fingers wide, enjoying the silky smoothness of her skin. His body grew hot as he swirled his fingers around her hard nipples, and she moaned in response.
Pulsing need sent him bending toward her breast to lick the tip of her nipple, round and round with his tongue. A painful yet pleasurable ache took hold of him, made all the sweeter by the mewling sounds she made when he took her nipple into his mouth and suckled like a babe at the breast of life. His pleasure was so intense that he realized he needed to slow greatly to hold back his climax.
He drew away and cupped her breasts, flicking her nipples with his fingers, and then squeezing the tips with just enough pressure that ragged moans came from deep within her throat. She threw her head back, and when she did, he slid his hand down her spine to embrace her and hold her upright. He took her hands, which had been bunched against his chest and encouraged her to explore.
She did, at first touchingly naive and hesitant and then becoming bolder with her caresses before surprising him by sliding her hands between his legs. Her long strokes started gently then harder and faster until, before he realized what was happening, he was the one moaning as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through him, tightening his body into a band as taut as a bow, and then all at once the tension released with a climax that left him momentarily weak.
When he came back to himself, she helped him into the tub and then bathed him with so much care that waves of gratitude washed over him, just as intense as the pleasure he had just experienced. When she was done, she rose and silently handed him the washrag.
He knelt by her feet and slowly worked his way up her body, inch by worshipful inch until he came to her breasts and lathered them first with the cloth and then his hands.
The contact of her skin to his was driving him mad with desire. His body s
trummed with the need to be inside of her, and by the wild look in her eyes, she felt the exact same way.
When Colin ran his hands down her slippery body, around her waist, and over the curve of her bottom to cup her under her legs and lift her to him, she was not at all sure what he wanted her to do, so she looked to him for guidance.
He ravaged her mouth as he hoisted her to his waist. Between kisses, he pulled back and spoke. “Wrap you legs around my waist and your arms around my neck.”
She did so immediately, and he lowered them into the tub so that she sat over him with her legs spread wide. He gently cupped her neck as the other hand came between their bodies, and his fingers found her sensitive spot and began to move back and forth with a rhythm that drove her to distraction. Unable to sit still, she pressed toward him, wanting him to increase the pressure and the speed. His acquiescence to her unspoken desire was immediate. His fingers moved expertly, rubbing in tiny circles that made her certain every ounce of blood she possessed was pulsing between her legs.
“Colin!” she cried out, certain she was on the edge of something wonderful. Water swished all around her, and with the swirling movement, he entered her in one long, swift stroke. The momentary sharp pain was lost among the thousands of splendid sensations he caused every time he slid out almost to his tip and back in. When he moved, her world seemed to move with him, until she was no longer certain where reality ended and the dream of the moment began.
Her body clenched, and then heat, invasive and exquisite, swept over her and took all the energy she had with it as the flame burned bright and died slowly, leaving her panting, sweating, and spent. She collapsed onto his chest, water lapping up between their bodies. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and pressed a kiss to her neck and then her lips. “You have all of me now,” he whispered. “Even after death takes me, I am yours.”
A spasm shot through her straight from her core to her heart. “I should not want it any other way. As you are mine, I am yours. This is my vow to you.” She sealed the promise with a searing kiss.
My Fair Duchess (A Once Upon A Rogue Novel Book 1) Page 29