by Cheryl Holt
“It seems to work for other women. Why not me?”
He snorted with disgust. “Are you yearning to fornicate? Is that your ploy?”
“I don’t know what that word means. I’ve never known.”
“It’s also called mating. It’s how a babe is created. If I decide to try it with you, I’d have to wed you when we were finished. I wouldn’t have a choice.”
“Good.”
“I want to have a choice. I won’t be commanded. Most especially by a female.”
“Then choose to fornicate.” She flung her arms to the side, like a virgin about to be sacrificed on an altar. “Have your way with me, then marry me when we’re through.”
“I don’t want to marry you. I thought I did, but I’ve changed my mind.”
“Liar,” she said. “You’re too honorable, Bryce. You would never have proposed unless you craved it very, very much.”
“Tell me what’s really happening. Why are you suddenly so eager?”
“I already told you. I don’t have to have my relatives picking my husband. That’s how it’s always been handled in my country, but my parents are deceased, and I would never allow my cousin to pick for me.”
“Your cousin is the one you loathe? The one you’d have to wed if you went home?”
“Yes.”
“So you’d shackle yourself to me instead, merely to avoid it?”
“No, I’d do it because I love you, and there’s no one to prevent me.”
He stared down her body, and it was clear he enjoyed what he was seeing. Why was he hesitating? Why was he so reluctant? She was so unschooled in passion. She wished she knew a coquette’s tricks so she could spur him to the ending she sought.
“What if I proceeded,” he said, “but refused to marry you afterward?”
“You’re too decent to act like that.”
“You can’t be sure of that. What if—deep down—I’m as much a cad as any other man? What if I ravished you, then walked away?”
“Go ahead,” she defiantly replied. “Let’s discover what kind of man you are deep down.”
He was perched on some sort of personal ledge and about to jump off. Would he? Could she push him? Would it help? Or would it simply make him more opposed?
She brushed her mouth to his. He froze, but didn’t respond, which was so exasperating.
“I’m rich and beautiful,” she said, “and I’m begging you to have me. Take me, you bloody fool.”
He was trembling with restraint then, as if a dam burst, he pulled her to him and initiated his own kiss. It was nothing like the tepid peck she’d just given him. It was the type of heat and hunger she’d always imagined two people could share together, but in her stilted world, she’d never witnessed it.
His tongue was in her mouth, his questing hands everywhere. He caressed and massaged, pitching her into a heightened state of ecstasy.
Why had she waited to the ripe old age of twenty-five to wallow in carnality? Then again with a different man, she probably wouldn’t have been so enticed. From the moment she’d espied him in Valois’s courtyard, practicing his fencing, she’d been intrigued.
She was so lucky to have met him! She was so glad!
He blazed a trail to her breasts, to her nipples. He tormented them, sucking and playing, pinching and biting. She knew what was coming, and when he touched her between her legs, she exploded, her anatomy shattering into a thousand pieces.
As she reached the peak, as she floated down, he was glaring at her. How could she bring a smile to his handsome face? How could she convince him to love her?
“Oh, Bryce, stop scowling.” She traced a finger across his creased brow, easing away the worry lines.
“You claim you’d like to wed me. When would we do it?” The question seemed to be yanked from his very soul.
“How about first thing in the morning?”
Apparently it was the correct answer, the answer he needed to hear. He sat on his haunches and tugged off his shirt.
“How can I be certain you mean it?” he asked. “I’ve learned since yesterday that you’re very fickle.”
“I’m not. Not really. You simply overwhelmed my better sense.”
“I’ve started to believe you have no sense, so it’s not possible to overwhelm it.”
She chuckled. “Make me yours, Bryce. That way, we can never be torn apart.”
“You’re sure about that, are you?”
“Yes, very sure.”
“I have a boat reserved tomorrow. It’s leaving at three for Alexandria.”
“I can be ready.”
“I haven’t said I’d book passage for you.”
“I’ll buy my own ticket. I’ll stalk you.”
“A ship’s captain can perform a marriage ceremony,” he pointed out.
“So he can.”
“We could marry once we set sail.”
“Is that a new proposal? If it is, I accept.”
He frowned. “It might be a new proposal.”
“Let’s have our wedding night right now. There’s no reason to delay, is there? Not if we’ll wed tomorrow.”
He didn’t reply to her suggestion, but studied her as if she was a stranger, as if he couldn’t figure out how she’d wound up in his bed.
He stretched out and began kissing her again, his bare chest pressed to her own. As their skin connected, sparks seemed to ignite, the room sizzling as if they were about to light it on fire with their ardor.
He wasn’t so wildly driven, but more focused, more determined. Down below, he slid two fingers into her womanly sheath. He shoved them in and out, in and out, until she was wet and relaxed.
“Have you any idea what’s about to happen?” he asked.
“No.”
“Has no one explained it?”
“No. My mother died before I was old enough to have that conversation, and I’ve never had another person with whom to discuss it.”
“Men and women are built differently in our private parts.”
“I know.” She’d seen Nicholas when she’d bathed him as a baby. “But why are we different?”
He was fumbling with his trousers, undoing the buttons. “I’m going to join my body to yours.”
“What does that mean?”
He didn’t clarify any details. “At first, it might feel awkward, and it might hurt.”
“Hurt!”
“Only the first time and only for a moment. After that it will always be grand.”
She smiled tremulously, suddenly wondering what she’d set in motion. It was likely a virgin’s jitters, the fear of the unknown, and she wasn’t actually afraid. She wanted Bryce to be the one, wanted to bind him so he’d have to wed her, so he’d have to keep her.
“Show me how it can be,” she said.
“Don’t worry.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“It will be over in a minute.”
“You make it sound like an execution.”
He shrugged. “Well, it is an execution after a fashion. We’re ridding ourselves of the woman you used to be, and when we’re through, we’ll have someone else in her place.”
“I suppose that’s true. Is it difficult to accomplish?”
“No. It’s just physical conduct.”
“Can you explain it? I’m nervous.”
“Every maiden is, and no, I can’t explain. It’s easier if I simply forge ahead.”
“Then please proceed.”
He scowled. “You have to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“You can’t be sorry later on. I’m just me, Bryce Blair, the son of an adventurer and an actress. I don’t have a penny to my name, but for the wages you owe me.”
“I understand.”
“No, I don’t think you do. For some reason, you’ve decided you’d like to be my bride. I don’t know if it’s because you’re frightened for the future or if you feel you’re out of options.”
“I don’t fee
l that way.”
“You claim you love me and that’s why you want to be my wife. So…I’m telling myself to believe you. But I’ll only ever be the man who is lying here with you. If you grow to wish you hadn’t wed me, that’s too bad. We can’t change it.”
She studied him, recalling the times he’d saved her, protected her, befriended her, advised her. She thought of how kind he was to her sister, what a fine mentor he was to her brother.
He was acting as if she was a great prize, as if she was lowering herself in order to marry him. Yet he was remarkable and decent, and he would be her husband forevermore. She was so very, very lucky. And blessed. And happy.
All of the horrid events of the past year, all the humiliations and slights, the snubs and heartbreaks, none of it mattered now. She was starting over. She was starting over as Bryce Blair’s wife, and there would never be a role she would rather play.
“Listen to me, Bryce.”
“I’m listening.”
“I will never be sorry. I will never regret my choice. I will never regret it. I swear to you.”
“I intend to hold you to your vow. There’s no going back with me.”
“There’s no going back with me either,” she agreed.
“You and me. Kat and Bryce. ‘Til death do us part.”
“I like the sound of that.”
He nodded and began kissing her yet again, driving her up and up the spiral of desire. Her passion was rising, her body tensing. While she was racing to the edge, racing to ecstasy, she kept being distracted by how he was touching her.
He’d gripped her thighs and widened them, and he was pushing something into her. It was long and hard, and he was flexing with his hips. It felt very odd and very scary, but very thrilling too.
“What are you doing?” she paused to ask.
“I’m joining myself to you, remember?”
“Yes, but I told you I don’t know what that means.”
“We’re almost there. Relax.”
His expression was severe, as if he was struggling toward a goal. Their kissing became more raucous, more unruly, his thrusting more determined and rhythmic. A wave of pleasure ignited, sweeping over her, and as she cried out, he gave a particularly fierce shove with his hips.
There was a sting of pain, a rush of blood, then he was fully impaled. Tears flooded her eyes, but they weren’t tears of distress. She was overwhelmed, the moment incredibly intimate, like nothing she could have imagined or described.
“Are you all right?” His voice was strained.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“It’ll be over in a second.”
And in fact, it was over just that quickly. He thrust once, again, and he moaned and collapsed onto her. Then he laughed and pulled away. He flopped onto his back, an arm flung over his face.
“Why are you laughing?” she demanded.
Had she done it wrong? How could she have? She’d had no idea what was happening. She’d simply lain there and let him do all the work.
“I’m laughing,” he said, “because I performed as if I’m a callow boy of fourteen. It’s embarrassing.”
“Why?”
“I like to think of myself as a manly fellow, but you arouse me so completely I can’t control myself.”
“Oh.”
She grinned and rolled toward him. He rolled too so they were nose to nose. They were staring, giggling like naughty schoolchildren.
“Did you survive?” he asked.
“All in one piece.”
“Usually it lasts a little longer.”
“Why did it end so rapidly then?”
“I have been dying to fornicate with you since the instant we met.”
“This is called fornication?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been anxious to do it with me? Is that normal for a male?”
“Is what? To want to fornicate with you? Or to want to fornicate in general? Men constantly ponder fornication. It’s on our mind a hundred percent of the time.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but I’m guessing every man who’s ever seen you has wanted to fornicate with you specifically. I was the one lucky enough to persuade you.”
“I picked you, don’t forget.”
“I won’t forget. Not ever.”
“I’m predicting this will turn out to be the best decision I ever make.”
“I’ll try very hard throughout my life to be certain it is.”
To her dismay, she burst out crying, and he looked horrified.
“What is it?” he frantically asked. “Are you sad? Didn’t you like it? What?”
“I loved it, and I’m not sad. I’m very, very happy.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Hush, then. There’s no reason to be distraught. Everything will be perfect now.”
He drew her to him so her cheek rested on his chest, her ear over his heart where she could hear its steady beating. Eventually her tears slowed, and he grabbed a corner of the sheet and dried her eyes.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yes, but I feel silly. You must think I’m a watering pot. I never cry.”
“We’ll let it be our secret that occasionally you do.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t.”
They were nose to nose again, and he was smiling. So was she.
She was no longer a maiden! She’d given him her most valuable possession, and shortly she would be his bride, and he would be her husband. They would settle in England and never have to worry about Kristof or Parthenia ever again.
“What now?” she asked.
“Now we rest for a bit, then we’ll awaken and do it again.”
He spun her onto her side, and he spooned himself to her back. She found it to be the most spectacular part yet, the emotional intimacy after the passion had ebbed. She was desperate to memorize every detail so she’d never forget.
“Are we still leaving tomorrow?” she inquired.
“Yes.”
“We’ll marry on the boat?”
“Yes.”
“When we get to London, could we wed again? Could we have a grand ceremony in a cathedral with my brother and sister in attendance and all your friends watching?”
“That would be splendid. I would like it very much.”
Lethargy was creeping in, and she yawned. “I’m sleepy all of a sudden.”
“Sexual play can be exhausting.”
“I can’t doze off in here. I would hate to have Valois’s maids find me. It seems rude to misbehave like this under his roof.”
“I doubt he would care, but I’ll kick you out so you can sneak to your own bed before the servants are up.”
With that assurance, she quickly faded into a deep, dreamless slumber.
“Love you, Bryce,” was the last thing she recalled saying.
She might have imagined it, but she thought he replied, “Love you too, Kat, and I always will.”
* * * *
Pippa straddled Chase, her knees digging into the mattress as he thrust into her. He was a very proficient lover, probably the most skilled she’d ever had.
She felt her orgasm rising, felt Chase’s too, and she yanked away just as he began to spill himself. He knew better than to come so close to the edge, but he liked to live dangerously.
She collapsed onto the mattress, and they were giggling, breathing hard, struggling to slow their respiration.
Teasingly she slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re horrid. What if I hadn’t pulled away?”
“If you hadn’t moved, I would have. I like to see your ire flare when I don’t act as you wish I would.”
“You are a vain beast, and I can’t figure out why I put up with you.”
“It’s because we’re in Egypt—where the rules don’t seem to apply. You’re bored and you haven’t met anyone else who tickles your fancy.”
“You’ll never get me to admit it.”
<
br /> They were quiet for a bit. Chase wasn’t big on snuggling or cooing. He stared at the ceiling, then rose to light a cheroot. He smoked it over by the window, gazing out at the Nile, letting the air cool his heated skin.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“I’m guessing dawn is about to break.”
They’d been fornicating for hours, and she stretched her legs, relishing the feel of how roughly her feminine parts had been used.
“Could you do me a favor tomorrow?” she inquired.
“It depends on what it is. It can’t be a difficult task. I’ve been up all night, so I’ll be groggy and grumpy and not good for much of anything.”
“It will be easy. I’ll simply need you to lure Nicholas and Isabelle out of the villa.”
He scowled at her. “Why?”
“I have to coax them out on the street where it’s a tad less…safe. I’d like them to be away so I can convince Kat to hunt for them with me.”
“Then she will be out of the villa too and a tad less safe.”
“Yes.”
Pippa rolled to face him, and she was grinning like a cat that had gotten into the cream.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“It’s time for her to go home. She doesn’t want to, but she doesn’t realize she has no choice in the matter.”
“You’ll force her?”
“No, she’ll go on her own.”
“How, Miss Pippa, will you accomplish that?”
“Nicholas and Isabelle will be heading home too. Once she learns they’ve departed, she’ll depart too and without a fuss.”
“Where are you from? You’ve never said.”
“I’m not supposed to.”
“Tell me or I won’t help you.”
“I’ll provide all the details tomorrow, after we’re successful.”
“Tell me now.” He looked doggedly intent on knowing.
“No. You’ll run straight to Mr. Blair and blab all my secrets.”
“I won’t blab to Bryce. You have to give me some hint of what’s occurring. I’m happy to assist you, but I won’t place Miss Webster in harm’s way. Nor will I take action that would be detrimental to her brother and sister. I’m a cad and a ne’er-do-well, but I won’t deliberately injure them.”
Pippa slid off the bed and tugged on her negligee and robe. She was conflicted and weighing whether to confide in him.
The royal courtiers had arrived, and the marriage proposal had been tendered, but Kat hadn’t mentioned it. She should have left with Captain Romilard, but she hadn’t, and Pippa was afraid of what Kat’s refusal portended. Pippa had to get Nicholas and Isabelle out of the villa, and Chase was the only person who might aid her.