“I think he loved her so much he simply couldn’t go on after she died.”
Celie leaned against him, and he placed his arm around her shoulders. “Do you think it’s possible to love someone too much?” she asked, relaxing against him.
For several minutes, he searched for the right answer. Before he spoke, he took a breath big enough to lift his chest. “I don’t think it’s possible to love someone too much. I think the danger lies in loving someone so much that you let them become your reason for living instead of your reason to continue living.”
“I think you’re right,” she whispered.
“That’s what Hadleigh did with Melisande. He idealized her to such a level that he distorted his love for her.”
“I’m not sure I’d call what he felt for her love. I think it was more a blind adoration. Everyone has faults, but he refused to see Melisande’s imperfections.”
“Has anyone told you how intelligent you are?” he said.
She smiled and leaned into him. “Yes, I believe you mentioned it before.”
Jonah wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him. “It bears repeating, my dear. You have a special understanding of people. I admire that.”
She lifted her head and locked her gaze with his. “I love you, Jonah.”
“Only half as much as I love you,” he whispered. Then he brought his mouth down over hers.
Celie matched the depth of his kiss with a fervor that equaled Jonah’s. She fed her desperation for him and encouraged him to deepen his kiss.
His kiss was hot and demanding, not gentle and passionate like the kisses they’d shared before. He ground his lips against hers, then opened his mouth over hers and urged her to follow his lead.
She did.
His tongue invaded her mouth, and she pressed back against his arm. The sensation of having him so deeply within her startled her—excited her.
She adjusted to his demands, accepted the weight of his body pressing against her, and wrapped her free arm around his neck to hold him to her.
He kissed her again, taking as much from her as she was willing to give—and she realized there wasn’t anything she wasn’t willing to give him.
His hand reached between them and settled low on her stomach. Bright lights exploded inside her head and shattered with greater intensity. She reacted with a violence that shook her to her core.
“We need to stop,” he whispered, lifting his mouth from hers.
“No, Jonah. Not this time.”
She tightened her hold around his neck and brought his mouth down on hers again. Their kiss was as passionate as before, the need as desperate.
Celie felt Jonah’s hesitation. Knew his mind lectured him with all the reasons he shouldn’t make love to her, but she wouldn’t allow him to heed those warnings. She needed him too badly. She wanted him with an urgency she couldn’t explain.
He hesitated as if he could stop what they were doing before it was too late. But his mind didn’t realize it was already too late.
“Love me, Jonah. Make love to me.”
With a sigh of resignation, Jonah brought her to her feet and kissed her with greater determination. There was no going back, and she didn’t want to.
The large four-poster bed sat in regal majesty on the other side of the room. She didn’t know how they reached it, but they were suddenly next to it. His hands worked frantically at her buttons, at the delicate straps, at the silks and satins beneath the sprigged muslin of her day dress. Next, he worked on his own clothing.
Celie knew what she was doing. She wanted Jonah to make love to her. She needed him to make love to her. She loved him. She’d always loved him. He held a special place in her heart. A place no one else would ever inhabit.
From the time she was old enough to realize there were different types of love, she knew Jonah would be the man she would marry. The love she felt for him was worlds apart from the love she felt for her brother or her parents.
There were times when she feared she would never realize those dreams. Those were her darkest days—when her brother’s hatred for Jonah was so all-consuming she knew in order for her dreams to come true she’d have to choose between her brother and Jonah. Then a miracle happened.
Jonah reentered her life, and her brother’s bitterness and hatred seemed to lessen. Her hopes, her dreams for a future with him, suddenly seemed possible. She’d never been happier.
And she refused to lose him now that he was a part of her life again. Yet that was what she was afraid would happen. Hadleigh warned her again yesterday about becoming too infatuated with Jonah. Warned her that it was dangerous to be near him. Even hinted that she sever all ties to him.
Something about the way her brother talked—his tone, his words, the cold hardness in his eyes—hinted that he might possibly refuse Jonah’s suit.
She wouldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t. She loved Jonah. Her heart would shrivel and die if she lost him.
She wrapped her arms around his muscular body and pulled him atop her. She kissed him again and let her kisses speak the demands of her heart. She would have him. She wouldn’t let her brother’s hatred ruin her future or her happiness.
Her fingers roamed across his flesh, touching him as he touched her, caressing him as he caressed her. She wondered if her touch set his flesh on fire as his did hers. She wondered if a whirlpool of molten heat swirled low in his body as it did in hers. Wondered if he was as desperate for something she didn’t have a name for as she was.
He kissed her again—not her mouth, but her body. His hot kisses traveled over her flesh, setting every inch of her on fre.
“Are you sure?” he asked, stopping his ministrations to her body.
“Yes. Oh, yes.”
She pulled him close to her again and silently begged for him to complete the miracle.
She didn’t care about the pain. She knew there would be that. Amanda had told her there would be. All she cared about was that, with this act, she was Jonah’s, in body and soul. And he was hers.
She barely felt the pain as she rode the waves of passion. She soared until she could climb no higher. When she reached the pinnacle, she shattered like a bliss-filled rain shower and fell to earth.
Jonah moved above her, then dropped his head back onto his shoulders and cried out his release.
“Celie!”
She wept for joy when he cried out. The sound of her name on his lips at the peak of passion was the most wonderful sound she’d ever heard.
She caressed the light sheen of perspiration on his back, then held him close when he lowered himself to lie beside her.
She loved this man in ways she couldn’t describe—the strength of his character, his intelligence, the teasing glimmer in his gaze, the safety and assuredness in his grasp, the way he considered her thoughts above his own. She loved everything about him. She felt safe in his arms.
Instead of becoming accustomed to the emotions that surfaced when she was with him, she was more in awe. She loved him more. Knew she would never want anyone but him.
She hoped he’d planted a babe inside her. Hoped she was already carrying his son or daughter. Hoped she could give him the next Haywood heir.
He stayed close to her for several wonderful seconds longer, then shifted his weight from her. He took her with him, cocooned her in his arms, and held her close.
She snuggled against him and pressed her cheek to his rapidly rising and falling chest. She loved the feel of his heated flesh against hers, the rapid thundering of his heart inside his chest, the strength of his breath against her cheek.
“Are you all right, Celie?”
“Of course. Are you?”
He laughed.
“I don’t regret what we just did, Jonah. I’ll never regret it. Please, I don’t want you to regret it, either.”
“You think I regret making love to you?”
His hands moved over her flesh, soft as a caress, gentle as a cloud, envelopi
ng as a fortress.
“I think you already do. Not the act itself. I think you enjoyed that.”
She looked up to meet his gaze when laughter rumbled inside his chest.
“Ah, yes. I most certainly enjoyed that,” he said.
“I’m glad. Because I think you already regret that you weren’t strong enough to wait until we were married.”
“You don’t regret not waiting?”
“No.” She looked up again. “Does that make me a bad person?”
He pulled her into his embrace again and held her. “No, that doesn’t make you bad. That makes you very passionate. And every husband wants a wife who is passionate.”
She smiled as she snuggled closer to him. “I’ll demand that Hadleigh announce our betrothal as soon as we return to London.”
“Are you that anxious to be a bride?”
She tipped her head upward. “I’m that anxious to be your bride.”
He kissed the top of her head.
“Are you anxious, Jonah? Or are you having second thoughts?” Her heart skipped a beat as she waited for his answer.
“No, Celie. I’m not having second thoughts. Especially not after what we just did. Hadleigh and I will have a discussion soon.”
“I don’t know if I can wait that long,” she whispered. She tipped her head back and urged his lips toward hers. “Maybe we can—”
And they did.
Chapter 17
Four days had passed since he and Celie had first made love. Since then, she’d managed to get away from Hadleigh Manor three of the four days.
Tonight was the dance at the assembly hall, and tomorrow Celie would leave for London. Since there was still so much to do, he’d have to remain here.
Although he wasn’t sure how he’d manage the days without her, he knew the separation was for the best. He had no self-control where Celie was concerned. If she weren’t already carrying his child, it was only a matter of time until he got her pregnant.
Thinking of the child he and Celie would someday create filled him with unimaginable joy. Spending every day of his life with her caused his heart to leap in his chest.
He nudged his horse to travel faster and galloped the short distance to Hadleigh Manor.
He’d left earlier than he would have had to, but he was anxious to see Celie. Today had been the one day she’d missed coming.
When he thought of the risk he and Celie were taking, a niggling concern settled over him that refused to go away. He’d promised himself Celie would go to her marriage bed a virgin, but it was too late to worry about that now. Celie would be his wife. Their course was firmly in place—unless Hadleigh refused his offer. Unless Hadleigh refused to hand over Celie’s dowry. If that happened, he didn’t know what he’d do. He couldn’t take her as his wife. He’d never be able to support her.
A painful weight settled over him. There was so much he had no power over. Such a large part of his future he couldn’t control. And the frightening aspect was that the Duke of Hadleigh could manipulate the outcome of his future more than he could.
Jonah thought of the money he owed him for payment of the debts his father and brother had amassed, the mounting debt he was accruing in order to repair the dilapidated Haywood Abbey. If Hadleigh demanded payment now, there was no way he’d be able to come up with enough money to pay him.
A cold chill raced down his spine. He would lose more than everything. He would lose Celie.
He took in several deep breaths as he pushed his horse toward Hadleigh Manor. He needed to see her. Needed physical contact with her. He wasn’t sure when such an intense emotion had overtaken him, maybe when he’d first realized he loved her. Maybe when he’d first made love to her. Maybe when he’d first seen her.
He only knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do to spend the rest of his life with her.
He galloped up the long drive and dismounted in front of Hadleigh Manor. He handed over the reins to a footman and turned toward the house. He took one step and stopped.
“I’ve been watching for you,” Celie said from the top of the steps.
Jonah rushed up the steps. “I’m early, I know, but I needed to see you. Are you all right?”
A smile lit her face. “I’m fine. In fact, I’m…wonderful.”
Jonah reached for her hands and held them. He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, then brought them to his lips and kissed her.
“You feel guilty about what happened, Jonah. Don’t. Please.”
Her voice came out in a hushed whisper that held a pleading quality he regretted she felt. “I love you.”
Her eyes filled with moisture and her jaw quivered; then a huge smile lit her face.
“Greetings, Lord Haywood.”
Jonah looked up to find Lady Amanda standing in the open doorway.
“We’ve been expecting you.”
“Have you?” Jonah said, escorting Celie into the foyer. “If I’d have known my presence was anticipated with such eagerness, I’d have arrived sooner.”
“Not everyone is eager to see you,” Hadleigh’s harsh voice said from the center of the foyer.
“Oh, Your Grace,” Lady Amanda said with a smile on her face. “I am in awe.”
“Amanda,” Celie warned.
“No, Celie. I am truly in awe of your brother’s talents.”
Lady Amanda turned her attention to the Duke of Hadleigh, and Celie’s fingers tightened around Jonah’s forearm. He waited to enjoy the verbal sparring. The Duke of Hadleigh had found his equal in Lady Amanda.
“You never cease to amaze me, Your Grace. How ever do you manage it?”
“Manage what?” Hadleigh asked. The question seemed innocent enough, but the sound was more a hiss that came through Hadleigh’s clenched teeth.
There was a hesitancy in his voice that Jonah agreed was a wise reaction. Danger loomed ahead, and Hadleigh realized it as well as Celie did. Unfortunately, things were proceeding at such a speed it was impossible to stop them.
“Your persona. Your facade.”
“Facade?”
“Yes, how ever do you manage it to such perfection? The sarcasm in your voice, the scowl on your face, your haughty demeanor. It is amazing. Is this something you practice?”
“Amanda,” Celie warned again.
“No, Celie. You think I am being disrespectful. I am not. I am truly impressed.” She turned back to Hadleigh. “Do you find such a guise works to your advantage, or are there times when you find it necessary to fall back on your true nature?”
Hadleigh stood speechless. Jonah wanted to laugh out loud. Hadleigh had been confronted countless times by a countless number of adversaries, but none had been such a worthy adversary as the small female facing the ferocious duke.
A cavernous silence engulfed the entryway as the two opponents stared at each other. Relief came as Hadleigh’s butler opened the door to one of the salons to allow two maids, each carrying trays.
“Oh, good, tea is ready,” Celie said, rushing to Lady Amanda’s side and literally pulling her away from Hadleigh and into the room. “Amanda, sit here beside me,” she said, leading Amanda into the chair farthest away from Hadleigh.
Celie poured the tea, and when she handed Jonah his cup, she rolled her eyes in frustration.
Jonah wanted to laugh but knew that would only fuel an already volatile situation.
Tonight promised to be very interesting. He hoped they’d all survive the experience.
Celie had never met two people more destined to hate each other than her best friend and her brother. If the two of them survived the evening, their success threatened to rival one of the seven wonders of the universe. Amanda obviously didn’t realize how her comments affected Hadleigh or how they threw him off balance. He was a duke, for heaven’s sake. He was used to the respect and deference that accompanied his position. People guarded their words when they spoke to him. Instead, Amanda seemed to go out of her way to shock him with her outspokenness.
Jonah, at
least, attempted to ease the tension as they made their way to the village assembly room where the dance was to be held. He and Amanda carried on a pleasant conversation. Her brother, however, wasn’t helpful. The sullen expression on his face prevented either Jonah or Amanda from trying to include him in their discussions.
Not that either of them tried. There were times when she thought Jonah was as bent on fueling their ongoing feud as Hadleigh was.
Celie’s gaze rested on Jonah as he conversed with Amanda. Every time she saw him, or thought of him, or stood close to him, her heart swelled inside her breast. She remembered what they’d shared the past week and the love she felt for him intensified.
“Do you anticipate a crush at the event?” Amanda asked Celie. “I know if the locals at home held an event like this, everyone for miles around would attend.”
“It will be the same here. I think we’ll be fortunate to find each other if we venture too far apart.”
Amanda’s smile brightened. “Tonight sounds more enjoyable all the time. Don’t you think so, Your Grace?”
Hadleigh answered her with a grimace. Celie noticed, however, his gesture couldn’t be called a smile. Every time he was forced to speak to Amanda, he wore a glowering frown that refused to go away.
“If you say so, Lady Amanda. You’re about to find out. We’ve arrived.”
The carriage stopped, and a footman rushed to open the door. As soon as the steps were lowered, Jonah stepped out and turned to assist Amanda to exit. Celie followed, and Hadleigh disembarked last. Celie knew it was cruel of her, but she stepped toward Jonah and took the arm he offered. That left Hadleigh to escort Amanda into the assembly hall.
The furious glare on his face told her he didn’t appreciate her maneuver, but Celie didn’t care. She wanted to walk in with Jonah.
The street in front of the assembly hall was crowded with wagons and carriages and horses tied to posts. The line of partygoers stretched from the entrance of the building, down the walk that led to the building, and around the corner. The guests included elderly matrons who needed canes for assistance, middle-aged married couples, and several young adults who came in groups of four and more. The laughter that rang out put everyone in a festive mood.
The Most to Lose Page 17