Calvin's lower body tightened at that infinitesimal glimpse of bare skin, and he was suddenly glad he had not seen Abby in only his shirt.
He was on the brink. He had known it since she had stood before him with her damp ball gown clinging to the curves of her breasts and the swell of her hips ... perhaps even before. He had been teetering on the verge of a fall ever since she had informed him of her friends' idea of an affair between them both. It would take little to send him over the edge.
Thomas Wolcott and the conspiracy for her protection be damned.
As faint as the fluttering wings of a baby bird, Abigail whimpered.
He frowned, his ears hurting with concentration.
The bedsprings squeaked once and then again. Abigail sighed. It was the resolute sound of someone aware of a long night of pain ahead of them.
Calvin eased onto his bare back, stared at the ceiling as he asked, "Would you like me to rub it?"
"I beg your pardon?"
He almost laughed at the shock in her voice. "Your leg."
"Oh." He thought he detected a hint of disappointment in her tone. It made him wonder what she thought he meant. "No, thank you."
"I might be good at it." 11-
"Shall I ask Katrina Raleigh to be certain?"
Her words chilled him to the bone. "Abigail, it wasn't what you thought."
"No?" A strange noise came from the bed, a stifled sound.
"Believe it or not, she was attempting to seduce me." For some unknown reason, he wanted it clear to her that the woman meant nothing to him.
There was that peculiar sound again, and Calvin wasn't certain, but it sounded like Abigail snorted.
Calvin sat up, sincerely praying that she had covered herself up beneath the bed quilt. "I had to ward off her advances."
"How dreadful for you, Calvin." She was beneath the blankets. Abigail had a hand over her mouth, and a tear trickled from her eye as she slowly turned her head in his direction. "It must have been quite frightening being accosted by a woman less than half your size. However did you make it through unscathed?"
Through Abigail's tears, Calvin saw, her eyes were alight with humor. His eyelashes drew together warningly. "Are you laughing at me?" ... .. .. . . ... . . . . .
Abigail couldn't hold back her giggles any longer. She let her hand drop to her side to expose her curved lips. She laughed aloud. "Not at you, Calvin. I'm just remembering Lady Katrina's face. She appeared very perturbed that you did not take her up on her not-so-veiled offer."
"I'm glad you found a traumatic episode in my life so amusing." He tried to keep his tone stern, but his grin betrayed him.
Abigail roared at that.
He couldn't help it; her amusement was infectious. Her neck arched as she buried her head into the pillows. Calvin began to laugh with her.
"You saw the whole thing?"
Abigail nodded, unable to speak.
He realized when she had left the stables so quickly, it was because she was as struck by the hilarity of the situation.
"Forgive me, Calvin." Abigail shook her head against the pillows, trying to calm herself with a deep breath. "I don't mean to tease you."
"I think you do," he countered.
She looked at him, lips still curved. "Perhaps." Abigail's gaze became thoughtful, barely visible in the light of the single taper he'd left burning. Her laughter faded. "Why?"
He lifted a brow in question.
Abigail propped herself on one elbow. "I didn't think men disregarded the attentions of women like Katrina Raleigh. She's beautiful."
Calvin thought about telling Abigail that the woman was nothing in comparison to her. Even now, with her hair disheveled and his steward's overly large shirt engulfing her frame, she was a sight to behold.
"I have dealt with women like her before, Abby," he said instead, deciding that in giving up every little bit of honesty he could, he might be saving himself. "To put it politely, they seek the excitement they think cannot be found with men of their rank. They thrive on being with someone with an interesting past. Dirty hands, so to speak."
"How many women have approached you in such away, Calvin?" Her fine brows came together.
"That is unimportant," he dismissed quickly. "I only fell for the ploy once and learned my lesson well."
It had been shortly after he moved into the estate that had belonged to his father, when associates of the man he had never met before heard about the events of Calvin's life. The daughter of the marquis' best friend had offered her friendship to Calvin, introducing him to all the best parties and London's elite, then proved herself unable to keep her hands off of him on the carriage ride back to their homes. It had been almost three months before Calvin realized he was being usednot introduced to Jessica's friends, but shown off.
"Some men do not mind." His jaw clenched. "But I refuse to be any lonely rich woman's entertainment."
Abigail was no longer looking at him, and Calvin began to wonder if he had said too much, but he instantly understood her saddened expression when she spoke.
"Is that what you think of me, Calvin?" Her voice was so low, it was near inaudible. "Why I brought up the idea of an affair?"
"I have never once thought that about you, Abigail." He shook his head, his words earnest. "You like to rescue people, not use them. Besides"he made himself smile, hoping it would break through her somberness-"you do everything you can not to like me."
"I like you, Calvin," she said with an honesty that touched his heart. The way she looked up at him from beneath her lashes touched other parts of him.
"I wish you wouldn't speak to me like that." His tone was gruff, low.
"Why?" Her head tilted, and his fingers began to itch to sink into the soft hair that slipped across her shoulder.
"It brings thoughts of your ruin to my mind." ... .. ... . . . . . .
Abigail blinked, her eyes staying shut longer than necessary. When she focused on him again, the tilt of her chin and the steadiness of her gaze hinted at a decision made. "At my age, ruin is beginning to sound exciting."
"Was your"-he searched for the right word"relationship with your fiance not exciting?"
She considered his question for so long, he began to think that he had offended her. Then her lips curved in a half smile. "I used to read these awful books, love stories. They were quite atrocious, really. Fantasy tales geared toward women. Reading these made me expect more of my fiance. I was disappointed in Patrick Valmonte." She tried to chuckle, at her own logic mayhap, but her dry laughter died off quickly as she saw Calvin's expression.
"I would not disappoint you, Abigail."
He heard her breath stop, felt his own quicken, when she sat up. Her hair parted into two thick curtains that hid most of her face from view. Abigail watched him closely as he rose up on his knees.
He reached out, fully expecting her to shy away. She did not move, however, as he slid his hand beneath the blanket of her hair to cup her cheek. Calvin held his breath as one of her hands lifted; it was cool and shaking as she used it to cover his. The softness of her skin, the warmth of her touch, unmanned him.
His jaw clenched before he made himself speak again. "No one need ever know." Calvin didn't give a damn if everyone in England knew she had given herself to him. Only the idea of others discovering she belonged to him, and thus putting her reputation at risk, stilled him. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you because of this."
Her fingers weren't long enough to wrap around his hand, but she needed only to tug slightly to bring his palm to her lips. Her eyes crinkled at their corners as she said into his hand, "I'm not sure.... After the accident, I never ..."
"We'll make it like you walk, Abby." He finally gave in to the urge to touch the soft locks of her hair, the fingers of his free hand sifting through the silky stuff, brushing it back from her lovely face. "Slow and steady."
Her lashes dropped, but he felt Abigail's lips curl against his palm.
Chapter 20
Abigail was very conscious of the oxygen that had accumulated in her lungs and there remained as Calvin's hand lowered until the pad of his thumb encountered the seam between her lips. She had never known there was such a concentration of nerve endings in her bottom lip until he slowly dragged his thumb back and forth across it. From that light touch, she felt heat spread out to her limbs and goose bumps stretch across her arms. Her eyes were just about to slip closed to allow her full attention to the sensation that was being evoked when his touch disappeared.
Abigail's lashes lifted, and, as she met Calvin's eyes, her pent-up breath left her in a silent rush. His gaze was that of blue flames. The heat of it stretched across the space between them and seared her heart.
"You are certain, Abigail?" The words came out rough and dry, as if Calvin had been holding his own breath.
Her attention drifted from his eyes to his cheekbones standing out stark against the planes of his face. It slipped across his nose and noted a slight bump that suggested it may once have been broken. Abby looked at the line of his mouth and ticking muscle in his jaw, and, as her gaze lifted back to his, it hit her. She was very certain she wanted to be with Calvin. It was rather astounding how the lines of his face, the breadth of his shoulders, and everything he was had become so dear to her in so short a space of time.
"Yes, Calvin." Her words, even in the small room, were barely audible to her own ears. "I am certain."
Calvin heard. He was off the floor in a fluid move that made Abigail's eyes go wide. Her eyes went wider still when, barely a heartbeat later, she found herself lying back against the mattress. Calvin's knees were on either side of her hips, his bare arms holding him steady above her.
He had given her only one chance to change her mind, which was just as well. When his mouth lowered to cover hers-with a gentleness that rivaled his rushed climb onto the bed-Abigail's mind went blank and all the reasons why she shouldn't be doing this disappeared. Her hands opened then closed reflexively in the quilt beneath them, and the moment she felt Calvin's lips part against hers, Abby let hers do the same.
A certain amount of female delight rushed through her as she heard Calvin sigh. The sound dissolved into a groan when her tongue boldly met his searching one. She pulled back quickly then, nipping at him with her teeth.
He broke the contact, tearing away as if it took great effort, and then released a very low chuckle. From the corners of her eyes, she noted the muscles defined in his stretched arms were quaking slightly.
"Has anyone ever told you"-his breath fanned her face as he spoke, smelling faintly of the gin he and Leonard Redman had shared after dinner"that your kisses make a man forget himself?"
"No." She shook her head against the embroidered pillowcase and smiled a little. "But I haven't kissed all that many men."
She could feel the heat of his naked chest through the material of the shirt she wore as he lowered himself to his elbows, but he put none of his weight on her.
Calvin lowered his mouth to hers once more, but only briefly. As she clung to his full bottom lip almost greedily, he shook his head. "No more of that. You'll make me humiliate myself."
On the first and only occasion Abigail had been intimate with Patrick Valmonte, there had been few words. Those spoken had come from her, to ask him if he would kindly move the arm that was pulling her hair and politely informing him that she could hardly breathe when he pressed his shoulder across her nose. He had never complimented her on the way she kissed, never told her she made him want to lose himself. He had certainly never traced the underside of her jaw, as Calvin was doing now, with the wet, hot tip of his tongue. ... .. .. . .. .. . . . .
Abigail shivered as his kisses moved to the hollow behind her ear, then gasped when his teeth bit down softly on her lobe. From far off, she was aware of the night air caressing skin that had been covered by her shirt only moments before and the faint sound the shirt made when Calvin used one hand to lay it open across the bed. Abigail had been so lost in his kisses that she hadn't even noticed he had gone to work on the buttons of her shirt. Then she gasped, heard Calvin's breath come out as a hiss against her ear, as his large palm cupped one of her bare breasts.
"You're so soft, Abby." His lips brushed her ear as he spoke, and she wasn't sure if it was that or the things his hand was doing that made her shiver. Much like the astonishing sensations that had erupted from his touch on her lips, her breasts swelled and nipples hardened at his caress. His thumb moved in a circle, just barely brushing the peak of her breast and making her legs shift impatiently between his. "Perfect." This he said against her throat.
Abigail held her breath as Calvin's mouth made a damp track down from the hollow of her throat. Her teeth clenched together when his ragged breathing tickled her oversensitized flesh. Then she released a grateful sigh when his mouth closed over her breast. Her eyes closed and her hands released their fierce hold on the bedclothes to sink into his thick hair. He growled down in his throat, shifting his weight to his other arm as he began to stroke the breast his mouth wasn't worshiping.
Clenching her teeth together, Abigail let her fingernails brush lightly across Calvin's scalp. He shook, and she was tempted to smile, but the urge was taken over by one to scowl. She had thought the extra attention Calvin was offering would end some of the need that was nagging at her insides. Instead, it was making her desire worse. Her body felt drawn to a breaking point she had never known before. Something strange was happening to her. All at once she was restless; part of her wanted Calvin to cease with his expert ministrations and part of her knew she would scream if he did. And there was a place, down low in her belly-perhaps not in her belly at all-that was beginning to throb in time with the beat of her heart.
Then Calvin's teeth, in a move she was sure sought revenge against the occasions she had nipped at his tongue and lips, closed almost delicately upon her nipple. Abigail did scream, but Calvin moved quickly. His mouth, open over hers, captured most of her cry.
"The room beside this one is occupied," he reminded her breathlessly.
She barely heard his words, but was arching her back. In Calvin's movement to silence her, the heated skin of his chest had brushed across her overly sensitized flesh. The coarse, dark hairs continued to tease her breasts to the point of being painful. Abigail took handfuls of Calvin's soft hair and tugged.
"Calvin . . . " The whimper sounded not of her own calm and collected voice.
"Are you alright, Abby?" He frowned down at her, searching her face as he made to again lift most of his weight from her quivering body. "Did I hurt your leg?"
She groaned, holding back an unladylike curse. .." "I need.
"What, sweetheart?" He brushed her sweatdampened hair back from her face, his expression concerned.
"Calvin." How could she possibly tell him when she wasn't sure herself? How could a man who was normally so intelligent be so agonizingly obtuse?
Abigail's legs shifted again, doing nothing to still the throbbing between her legs that had only gotten worse. A new thought occurred to her then, and before she could think twice, she lifted her legs. Bringing most of her lower back off the mattress, she locked her thighs about Calvin's lean hips and pressed herself against him. Her hands moved from his hair to the damp skin low on his back and pressed him downward.
Calvin cursed, a foul word that might have shocked Abigail were she not releasing a muchrelieved sigh. Calvin's weight was a wonderful thing atop her. His skin, save for where he still wore his breeches, covered hers completely, and, at the most intimate place, where her body cupped his, he throbbed in time with her.
She was smiling this time when it struck her: even this was not enough. "Bloody hell," she said into the space between his neck and shoulder.
"Abby." Calvin pushed himself up out of her hold, looking as if her reluctance to release him caused physical pain. "Give me a moment, sweetheart. It will be all right."
Now, she realized, he understands. Thank God.
He sat b
ack, dislodging her legs, his hands immediately moving to the buttons of his breeches. Abigail watched his movements with greedy, hungry eyes, relishing the play of muscles in his arms and the way his stomach rose and fell rapidly in time with his breath. His fingers slipped on his last button, and her gaze lifted to his face. Abby realized, without any kind of timidity, Calvin was look ing at her much the same way. He devoured her with his eyes.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders when he fell forward again, returned his kiss with everything burning inside her. Her knees lifted, his hips moved forward, and then he was inside her.
This, she understood, was what she had needed.
"No!" Her fingernails dug into the skin of Calvin's back as he pulled away.
"Shhh ... " He kissed the spot between her furrowed brows, the end of her nose, and then eased forward again.
Abigail's lower body tensed. Her skin felt as if a slow fire were burning across it. "What ... ?"
Calvin's hips flexed, then again. Again.
Her eyes opened wide. "Calvin?"
"It's all right, love." It was difficult for him to form the words. His gaze held hers as he smiled.
Calvin moved his hips again, and this time Abigail's lower body moved of its own volition, meeting his halfway. Her mouth fell open as she sucked in a great gasp of air and the world shattered around her. Behind the roaring in her ears and through the waves of unequivocal ecstasy rolling through her, she was aware of Calvin clutching her to his chest. His whole body went extraordinarily rigid before a great tremor shook him and he gasped into Abby's hair.
"Perfect."
He couldn't possibly ... not now.
Calvin let the decision settle upon him, much like a heavy weight around his heart that threatened to smother those that had burned to life inside him since the night before. Since perhaps even before Abigail had wrapped herself around him, offering a precious gift in herself.
He almost smiled as he remembered the sudden surprise that passed across her face-the way her heavy-lidded eyes suddenly went wide and her mouth slipped open in wonder. Abigail had been a sight to behold as she was lifted to her peak for the first time. Later, when Calvin folded her in his arms, breathing none too steadily himself into her disheveled hair, the sound of her happily bewildered laughter was like music to his ears. It also led him to believe that Patrick Valmonte had, in fact, been a very disappointing lover.
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