He fumbled at the door with his key, wincing at the sound the key made in the lock when he turned it. The scraping noise echoed in the dim corridor. The door swung open and his breath caught in his throat. There she was, lying in the bed, the covers pulled up to her chin even though the room was stuffy. Shutting the door behind him he opened the window further, letting a cool breeze into the room. The sweet and unexpected smell of roses floated up through the window. Instantly he was transported back to the park and a chill ran through his veins.
Before he knew it he had a roaring fire going in the hearth, the flames crackling in the still night. The other patrons must have retired to their beds as well because he couldn’t hear any noise from below stairs. It was as though he was all alone in the world. A movement caught his eye and he looked once more at the bed. Well, maybe not quite alone.
The fire was hot, too hot now and he stripped off his shirt and undid the ties of his fall. Damnation, it was hot in here.
Harriet kicked at the covers; she too was feeling the heat, even in her sleep. Perhaps lighting the fire wasn’t the best idea. If she awoke…
He wasn’t sure why he called out. Perhaps he wanted her to see him thus.
“Hot, are you?”
Harriet’s eyes followed the trail of hairs disappearing into his trousers. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the bulge below were the hairs disappeared from view. Another breath shuddered in her chest.
“A bit,” she replied, licking her lips.
He took a step towards her and something swelled to life inside him. She sat frozen in place until he reached the side of her bed and took the covers from her stiff fingers and let them slip to her waist. She watched his eyes follow their slide down her scantily-clad body. The heat he saw burning in her eyes was far hotter than the flames reflected in them moments before.
His hand touched her face and sparks flowed along the path his thumb took across her skin.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathed and slid his hand into her hair, his fingers snagging her curls as he tipped her head and bent down to her lips. The contact was exquisite. He barely brushed his lips to hers but still the heat of his lips seared her mouth. Heat shot straight down to her centre so fast, a gasp was torn from her lips and her back arched in an uncontrollable response. She was no longer frozen in place. Instinct took over.
She had to touch him. Her hands seemed to reach up by their own accord and wound their way into his hair. It was softer than it looked, his curls slipped through her fingers like spun gold. She never thought a man’s hair could be so sinful. A smile curved her lips at the thought of what other sins they would soon be partaking in.
At the exact moment that her thought completed itself, Philip pulled away from her and took a step back.
“Where are you going?” She hated the fact that her voice sounded so needy, but the truth was that she was very full of need and there was no way he was going to walk away from her now.
“I’m so terribly sorry, Harriet. I should never have taken the liberty. Please forgive me, it won’t happen again, I promise.” He took another step away from the bed, closer to the window.
“You promise?” Was she shouting?
“Y…yes,” Philip stammered.
Well, if he promised there was nothing else she could do. She threw off the covers, swung her legs over the edge and gracefully got to her feet. He was relatively unaffected until she sashayed her way towards him. His eyes widened and he took a few more steps away from her.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, since you promised you wouldn’t take liberty with me again, I figure I will have to do it for you.” She reached out and touched his bare chest, and her fingers marvelled at the springiness of the hairs there. His hair was so fair that it was an unexpected feeling. She watched in fascination as his muscles rippled under her touch.
Philip reached for her hand and held it still. “You don’t know what you are doing. I won’t be able to stop.”
“Good,” she whispered and leaned closer to kiss his collarbone, her tongue darted out and flicked over his salty skin.
Philip leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. “Are you sure you know what you are asking? We can’t take it back once it is done.”
Harriet stared up into his eyes. They were deep with emotion, so full she couldn’t decipher what secrets they contained. Suddenly she wanted to know all of him.
“I won’t want it taken back,” she whispered.
He groaned and kissed her. Where the other kisses were gentle and slow and tender, this one was hot, rough and urgent. It didn’t take her long to return the desperation of his kiss.
He swept her up and carried her to the bed where he unceremoniously dumped her back onto the covers. The room was hot enough from the fire and their desire to forgo any covers. Philip lay beside her on the bed. She turned her head, wondering what was taking him so long. Moments before he couldn’t take his hands off her and now he was just lying there looking at her. She cocked an eyebrow at him in question.
“You’re beautiful.” His voice was full of wonder.
She smiled and reached out to touch his bare skin again; she couldn’t get enough of the silky feeling beneath her fingertips. “So are you.”
He scoffed. “Men are not beautiful.” His voice held conviction, enough that she felt she needed to argue the point. And she knew just how to do it.
She allowed her fingers to continue roaming over his chest. She circled his nipple until it puckered. She trailed her fingers down to his navel, following the trail of fair hairs that disappeared down his trousers.
“Beautiful,” she breathed and looked him in the eye.
Tension lurked between them. His breath came in gasps and after a moment of her exploring he grabbed her hand and brought it back to his chest and held it there. “Please, no more, or I’ll disgrace myself before we even start.”
Philip rolled towards her until one of his legs lay between hers. The sudden heat of his touch so close to her most intimate place was as close to heaven as she had ever been.
He grasped the edge of her nightgown and raised it slowly up her body, grazing her leg with his knuckles on the way up. He quickly raised the garment the rest of the way up and over her head, sending it flying across the room. Shivers preceded his touch until she was a quivering mess by the time he reached the junction of her thighs. He stroked her there gently, her moisture slick on his fingers, easing their entrance into her core.
She gasped and arched with the rhythm of his touch. She screamed as his lips found her nipple and sucked. He clasped a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries. His tongue worked magic, sending her over the top until her body was so full of sensation she overflowed in release. He let go of her nipple and captured her screams with his mouth.
She slowly became aware of herself again and saw Philip grinning at her.
“Pleased with yourself are you?” she smiled at him.
He kissed her instead of answering. He got off the bed and quickly shed his trousers before lowering himself more fully on top of her. He captured her hand and brought it to the part of him that fascinated her by the glimpse she saw as he shed his trousers. He was hot to touch. And smooth as silk but hard as granite underneath. She slid her hand along his shaft in an attempt to discover the exact combination of sensations it evoked. The sensations coursing through her own body distracted her from her goal and she found herself arching her body against him.
“Please,” she begged, although she didn’t know for what.
“Soon,” he whispered and nibbled her earlobe. She arched her neck to better accommodate him.
His hand covered hers on his penis and slowly guided himself to her entrance. He stopped short of entering.
“Open your eyes, Harriet.”
She hadn’t realised they were closed. She opened them to find him looking intently at her. His face was twisted with strain.
“Are you still sure?” he asked b
etween clenched teeth.
She nodded her head. “Yes.”
That was all it took.
He thrust into her fully. Pain seared her insides and she struggled to escape, suddenly aware of the blanket’s roughness against her bare skin.
“I’m so sorry, my love, I should’ve gone more slowly. Hold still and soon the pain will abate.” He lay still on top of her and waited for her next move.
Harriet soon became more comfortable and tried moving her hips. Philip was becoming too heavy on top of her.
“Better?” He waited for her nod before he started moving again.
Intense glorious sensations filled her body once again and soon she forgot about the moment of pain that had come before.
Chapter 32
The early morning light filtered through the curtains and Harriet opened her eyes to discover Philip still lying next to her. Her head cushioned on one of his arms, the other was tossed over her waist. At that moment she desperately wanted to remember who she was. She thought back to last night. Well, at least she knew she wasn’t married. She slowly stretched, and her muscles strained in protest. She was sore between the legs and wished for a hot shower.
Shower? She had yet to see one of those here. Since she had arrived at Philip’s she had only been privy to a bath, filled with buckets the servants hauled up the stairs. But somewhere in the far reaches of her mind she was sure she had, at some time in her life, stood under a shower of warm water. Somewhere where water came from a tap on the wall. She remembered the warmth of the room as steam filled the space and the glass door swinging shut, encasing her in a cubical where water fell from above.
This place in her mind seemed so familiar she would bet her life on it that it was home. But where was it? Why couldn’t she remember?
She became aware that Philip was awake and watching her.
“Welcome back,” he whispered. “You were gone somewhere far away, weren’t you?”
“Just remembering something.”
Philip grinned. “Last night, by any chance?”
“As a matter of fact, no.” She laughed. “Although it did start with remembering last night. This is the first time I’ve been able to hold onto an entire memory. Mostly they just float through my mind and I’m unable to catch them as they go by.” She propped herself up onto her elbow. “I remember having a shower. I know it doesn’t make any sense because I haven’t seen one since I’ve been here, but I know that I have had one. I know I had one in my house. I remember in perfect detail the glass cubicle I stood in. I can remember the feel of the smooth white floor beneath my feet but mostly I can feel the hot water cascading down my body and the smell of my shampoo and body wash.”
“What did you just say? None of that makes any sense, Harriet. Although it does sound heavenly.” Philip stretched, his muscles flexing with his movement.
“Yes I know. But it is real. I’m sure of it!” Harriet threw the covers off and climbed out of bed. She belatedly remembered she was naked and quickly dived back into bed. “Um, could you find my clothes please, Philip?”
He chuckled and rose. He wasn’t concerned with his nakedness. In fact, he seemed quite content to be showing it off as he roamed around the room, gathering her undergarments and the dress she wore the day before from the chair in the corner.
Harriet watched him move about from half-lowered eyelids. His muscles rippled with each movement and she wondered, not for the first time, what he did to define each of his muscles. She clenched the sheets to her breasts, shy even after what they had enjoyed last night.
He brought her clothes to her and dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. “You should have stopped me after the first time; it was brutish of me to take you again after that. I’m sorry.”
The concern in his eyes was unnerving and she slackened her grip on the sheets and lowered them down slowly. “I’m fine…see for yourself.” She smiled in invitation.
***
They left the inn after breakfast.
“We’re headed to Jasper’s country estate,” Philip told her after they had departed the inn. “I’m hoping we’ll be safe there for the time being. Neal thinks he has a lead on who the men are that are trying to find you. If only we could find Rupert, then we would be sure to find them.”
Harriet’s head snapped up at the mention of the name. “Rupert?”
“He’s a close friend of Jasper, Neal’s and mine.” Philip was vague in his explanation.
“I’ve met him,” she said.
Philip sat up straight. “You have? When?”
“He was the third man in the house the other night. He wanted to know where the packet was…and what was in it. He said the others knew him as Harry. Why do you think he’s going by a different name?”
Philip sat back, considering this new information. “Rupert is involved in many things I don’t even want to know about. Last I heard he was relocating people who were involved with the wrong crowd. He’s saved countless lives over the years. But he’s been missing for a while now and we weren’t sure where he’d gone.”
“You don’t sound too concerned.” If one of her friends was missing, she would surely try to find them. She briefly wondered if anyone was still looking for her.
“Well, it is Rupert after all. Everyone thought he was dead for years, so for him to disappear for a while here and there is not out of the ordinary.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. The fact that it was over two months since she had been found made her wonder what kind of life she had led for no one to come and find her.
They travelled in silence for much of the rest of the way, only commenting on the scenery beyond the window now and then, both of them lost in their own thoughts.
It was late afternoon when they slowed and turned down a drive. It was long and winding, but the cool breeze slipping through the trees along the way made it pleasant enough.
Philip broke the silence. “I used to come here often as a child. It was wonderful escaping my own household for a few weeks at a time. Once I went to Eton, I spent most of my holidays here as well. I tended to avoid any family gathering.” He plucked at his trousers. “I tried to bring Cressandra here as well, but father rarely allowed it. I spent much of my time here feeling guilty. Guilty for leaving Cressandra behind, and guilty for enjoying myself while I was here, knowing that she was stuck at home with him.”
Philip looked out the window and rubbed his eyes. They were suspiciously bright, although Harriet could see no tears.
“It’s not your fault your father treated you so. You can’t blame yourself for wanting to get away from him. I would, if I had a father like that…who knows, maybe that’s why I’m here. Maybe I was running away.” She smiled, trying to inject some humour into the atmosphere. They both knew what she was running from was not a tyrant father.
He smiled in return, the sadness not so sharp in his eyes. “It wasn’t all bad. The servants here were more than wonderful to me. Grayson, the butler, was a father-figure to me…a nice one at that. And Cook spoiled me with her best baking. I always left here a few pounds heavier than when I arrived.”
It was nice to see the pleasure back on Philip’s face. Harriet was pleased they ended their trip on a happier note than a few minutes before.
A grand stone building greeted them at the end of the road. The carriage came to a stop moments before the front door opened and an elderly man dressed in the finest red uniform hobbled down the steps to meet them.
Philip alighted from the carriage and handed Harriet down before turning to greet the elderly butler.
“Grayson, old man,” Philip said, “nice to see you again.” He clapped the old man on the back in greeting.
“You as well, sir, you as well.” The man bowed. “We expected you late last night, I hope the trip was well?”
“Bit of a mix-up with the horses, that’s all. I trust you didn’t wait up all night?”
The dark circles under the man’s eyes b
elied his response. But his bow to her was executed excellently when Philip introduced her. “May I present Miss Harriet? Harriet, this is Jasper’s butler, Grayson. He has been with the family since well before we were all babes.”
“Indeed, sir.” Grayson dipped his head in response and bade them inside.
Harriet found herself whisked from Philip’s side and shown to a room on the opposite side of the house to Philip’s. The housekeeper was most precise about telling her. Harriet tried to keep the blush from blooming on her face, but she held out little hope.
A bath was ordered and she slipped into the warm water gratefully as soon as she was left alone. Her skin protested against the intense heat, but her muscles rejoiced. The stiffness from the carriage and her ‘ride’ last night melted away with the warmth.
She jerked awake and realised she’d fallen asleep in the tub. The water was now tepid. She sighed and climbed out. She reached for the towel the maid had left on the chair next to the tub but instead of soft fluffy cotton, she touched flesh. A scream rose in her throat before Philip’s voice filled the room.
“Shhh, it’s only me. You don’t want to bring the whole household in here do you?”
Her mouth shut with a snap. She’d touched his arm. “What are you doing here?” she asked, turning to look over her shoulder at him.
“Watching you sleep. I find that I am addicted to it now.” He smiled at her and handed her the towel.
She turned her back and quickly wrapped herself up in it. “How long have you been here?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Not long actually. You woke up when the chair squeaked as I sat down.” He put a finger into the tub. “Good thing, your water’s getting cold.”
Damsel in Distress? Page 12