He studied her face intently then nodded. “Thank God. Who? Where? When? Why?”
He dropped his hands from her arms and crossed back to the footboard, shrugging off his coat as he went.
Suppressing a sigh, Victoria instead took a deep breath. “I’ll start at the beginning.” Pacing in front of the fireplace, she recalled her morning. “I was waiting in my room when I saw the carriage pull up outside, just before nine. I went downstairs and Louisa told me the carriage awaited. A footman held the carriage door open and I got in without hesitation.” She hesitated in the present though, for Taviston now divested himself of his waistcoat as well.
He quirked his raven eyebrows at her and then ripped the cravat from his neck. “I need to know everything, Victoria.”
She worried her lower lip. If he undressed any further, she doubted she could finish the story. He relaxed against the bed once again, however, and she resumed pacing.
“The carriage instantly shot off and I realized almost immediately I wasn’t alone. There were two men, Spade and Frank. One held a knife and the other a pistol.” She paused and looked at him expectantly.
“Armed men. They told you their names.” His voice sounded odd, strangled almost.
“Yes. Trust me; there were many peculiar things about this kidnapping.”
“Such as?”
Victoria eyed an armchair placed close to the fire. “May I?”
She received an irritated look. “Of course. Sit; do as you wish in this room.”
So magnanimous, so decent. But why couldn’t he just offer her the security of his embrace? Or at least his touch?
She slid into the comfortable chair and tucked her feet beneath her. Glancing back at Taviston she saw a brief look of impatience cross his features. He must want to be done with this and get on with the wedding night.
“I would say that Frank and Spade were not accomplished kidnappers. They did not even appear to have a prior acquaintance. We traveled at breakneck speed and they had closed the window curtains, but I was able to sneak a look and saw we headed north out of London. Soon, it became apparent to me neither one of them knew what their plan was. Frank believed they were to take me to Wales. Spade insisted it was Scotland.”
She pondered whether or not to tell him what Spade had wanted to do to her once they arrived in Scotland.
“Did they say why they had kidnapped you?”
“No, but then they were much too busy arguing over where we were going and what they were going to do with me.” She continued on quickly, hoping he would gloss over her last statement. “I assumed they snatched me in order to demand a ransom.”
His gaze cut a swift path to hers. “What were they going to do with you?”
She silently repeated a curse she had heard from his very lips then tried to be vague. “As I said, they disagreed over that as well.”
Grey turned to steel at her prevarication. His silence and rigid countenance spoke for him.
It wasn’t that she thought Taviston cared overmuch what happened to her, but she knew he would be apoplectic at the thought of anyone harming something that belonged to him, namely his wife.
Victoria blew out another breath and found an interesting blotch of golden yellow in the carpet to concentrate on. “Frank thought they were to abandon me in Wales, leave me to make my own way home.” She paused for so long she feared Taviston might come over to shake the words out of her mouth. “Spade thought they were to kill me,” she said on one quick breath.
He did amble over then, but his casual stroll belied the tension in his shoulders and face. He sat down in the chair across from her and his measured words surprised her. “One of them wanted to take you to Wales and leave you, the other wanted to kill you, and you think they kidnapped you for ransom?”
She snapped her mouth shut when she realized it hung open. “Well, when you state it clearly like that, it doesn’t make sense, does it? My wits were a bit unraveled by the whole affair.”
“Victoria, for God’s sake, I was not insulting your intelligence.” Taviston drew his chair and himself nearer to her and encased her hands in his large, warm ones. “Of course you have had a time of it. It’s probably best you didn’t focus on their intentions. You were obviously clear-headed enough to escape.”
He was so close their knees touched. Victoria marveled that such a thing could a send a shiver of desire through her veins. It didn’t hurt that his white lawn shirt stood open and she glimpsed crinkly black hair.
“Victoria? I thought the mention of escaping might inspire you to tell me how you got away.”
She blushed. “Oh, of course. I did hint at the apparent ineptness of my captors, did I not?”
He nodded, so she regaled him with the tale of her self-rescue. By the time she arrived at the point where Spade threatened her while she stood on the road, horror and amusement did battle on his face. Laughter soon won and he released her hands and slumped back in his chair while it overtook him.
It delighted Victoria to see him laugh and smile. Such rare actions from him were to be treasured. Then again, he seemed to grin and chuckle much, much more these days.
Unfortunately, he sobered with all due speed. “Do you realize the risk you took? They could have been given a description of you, or they might have already noted where you lived earlier in the week.”
“I know. Believe it or not, I did think about those things, and the weapons they waved were never far from my mind, either. But I had to get to the church. I couldn’t have lived with myself if you thought I had left you at the altar.”
Why did she have to say that? She shifted in her chair and her gaze dropped. To his lap. Her eyes skittered away to the fire. Anticipation of the night ahead quickened her heartbeat.
He didn’t speak for the longest time and she had no idea what he thought. His eyes remained on her face but showed no hint of emotion, either positive or negative. At last, he pushed his chair back and began to pace.
“The first question that comes to mind is why my coachman did not inform me he never picked you up. Did the kidnappers use my coach, after incapacitating my coachman? Why wouldn’t someone in the stables have noted his absence?” He spoke calmly, but Victoria knew lack of control over what happened and lack of knowledge about the event must annoy him no end.
“I can assure you, the vehicle I rode in was not yours. The outside was painted a dark blue to resemble the Taviston coaches, but the inside...” She shuddered at the rank memory. “Suffice it to say, it was not yours. I can only assume your coachman showed up later and was told by Morgan I had already gone. Everyone concerned probably presumed a misunderstanding and thought nothing more of it.”
Taviston nodded smartly and strummed his fingers on his thigh. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I must attend to a few matters.” He moved toward the door. “Remain here.”
But it’s our wedding night. Victoria watched him disappear with a sinking heart. He’d promised to finish what they started that night in the portrait gallery. Now he didn’t appear at all eager to introduce her to the marriage act. Drat. Staring into the fireplace, she sulked for the twenty minutes it took for Taviston to return.
He gave no explanation for his absence, merely saying, “I have many other questions about this morning as well.”
His interrogation could take a while. Disappointed anew, Victoria rose and went to warm herself by the fire. “I will try to answer as best I can.”
He changed the course of his pacing and came to stand behind her. “But I think my curiosity concerning your kidnapping might keep until tomorrow.” His warm hands began to slowly undo the back of her dress.
“Oh,” she replied mindlessly, flanked by the heat of the fireplace and the heat of his body.
His voice rumbled and his hands softly stroked the skin he had exposed. “My curiosity concerning your body won’t.”
Those bold words should have unnerved her. Instead, a thrill of want shot through her stomach straight to a regi
on of her body she rarely thought about.
“Victoria, did anyone...” He paused the unfastening of her gown. “Well, I know you haven’t a mother so I just wondered if anyone...explained the marriage bed to you?”
She smiled to herself as his concern wrapped around her. “Dearest Jane wrote me a letter, explaining everything.”
“While I’m grateful for your friend’s forethought, I’m going to forget you ever told me that.”
Victoria laughed softly but then Taviston pushed the dress from her arms and it fell to the floor with a rustle. All coherent thought left her as she stepped out of the aquamarine pool. Her corset was next to go, in a maddeningly slow process as he ever so methodically unlaced it.
Then his hands circled her waist, and she tipped her head up to catch his hazy gaze of silver, gratified to see desire kindling there. His hand trailed up her bare arm and smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. As he cupped her head in his hand his thumb traced her cheekbone. Her eyes drifted closed at the gentle touch, so intimate. Victoria hadn’t been touched in such a way for as long as she could remember.
“Are you ready?” His steady whisper reached her ears.
A moment ago, her mind had been a muddle, but his words brought everything back into focus. What if she said no? Would he stop? Of course he would. Her husband, kind and thoughtful, would never proceed without her assent. She mentally shook her head. Why would she say no? She loved him and she wanted him. Lifting her eyelids, she found passion overwhelmingly evident in his eyes, accompanied by the smallest measure of panic.
“I am,” she whispered back. “I thought you would go on about the kidnapping all night.”
The final word of her sentence was lost as Taviston’s lips claimed hers. She rose on her toes and folded her arms around his neck. The fierceness of his kiss abated after a minute and Victoria savored the taste of his firm, port-flavored lips.
He briefly dragged his mouth away and muttered, “Thank God,” while walking toward the bed. Victoria eagerly followed. Taviston sat on the solid cherry footboard, which brought their heated gazes level. Yanking off his boots and stockings with lightning speed, he then pulled her between his hard thighs and resumed kissing her; nipping at her lower lip until she unsealed her jaw and allowed his tongue to sweep inside. A moan escaped her throat, and he intensified his invasion.
Taviston wanted her. Victoria now had no doubt of that. They were so good together, perhaps she could use their passion to make him love her. If she just gave of herself...
In desperation and without hesitation Victoria broke away and bunched the hem of his shirt in her hands. “I know I’m not an expert, but it seems to me we have too many clothes on.”
She lifted the shirt over his head and threw it heedlessly to the floor. Then she set her hands loose on his bared skin, reveling in the hard muscles. His eyes darkened into stormy pools. He anchored one hand on her bottom, sending a delicious buzz up her spine, while the other hand slid up to untie her chemise.
Victoria smiled smugly, enjoying the escalating spark they bandied between them. Her smile vanished with a gasp as cool air and then his palm rasped over her nipple. Chemise hanging about her hips, she pushed into the strong hands kneading her breasts.
Then Taviston changed course and tweaked his thumbs across her sensitive nipples. This way, that way, then back again. The rhythmic pulsing almost buckled her knees.
She tried to hold herself up but sagged against his unyielding frame when his tongue picked up the pattern deserted by his thumbs. His grip tightened around her waist and Victoria secured her trembling fingers in his inky black hair. She could do nothing but wallow in the sensual thrum of his tongue on first one breast, then the other.
How could he not know she loved him?
“Taviston...” The words wouldn’t slip past her throat.
Abruptly, he withdrew from her breasts and swept her up in his arms, bearing her to the bed and lying down beside her. His gaze was intense as he rasped, “Use my given name.”
Always commanding, this duke. Here in the intimacy of their marriage bed, she found his order made her flush with heat. Victoria ran her tongue over her bottom lip before responding. “Charles...”
Then she pulled his head down and locked him in a kiss, trying again to convey her secret love in actions rather than words. When his lips strayed away, burning a path across her jaw and neck, her curious hands found their way to his breeches. Given the tremors racking her, she was surprisingly nimble at opening the fastening and releasing his sex. Occupied elsewhere, Taviston seemed unaware of her actions until she boldly curved her fingers around him.
He jerked back. “Perhaps you could slow down a bit,” he managed to say roughly.
“Why?”
“Why?” He sighed. “This is your first time. Savor the moment.”
“I assumed we might be able to do this more than once in our married life, so I would not necessarily have to savor this first time. Besides, you cannot tell me you went slowly your first time.”
Taviston collapsed back onto the mattress, grinning. “I know for certain I did not talk this much.”
She giggled but wanted nothing more than to return to the matter at hand, so she went on the offensive and threw her body atop his, kissing him deeply. He protested not at all. His hands roamed her bare back, stopping short of delving beneath her chemise, which still covered her waist and thighs. She moved her hips back and forth, regretting the linen barrier keeping her out of contact with the part of her husband she was most curious about right now.
Taviston tolerated her gyrations for mere seconds before hauling her body upward. His lips, warm and wet from dueling with hers, latched onto her breast once again. Victoria’s hair fell in a curtain around her and she lost herself in the pleasurable suckling, failing to notice that his hands were busy as well. He wrenched her chemise up and molded his feverish hands to her buttocks. Without warning his finger burned a path across her skin and found its way to her damp, tingling center.
Victoria jerked herself back and down, which only allowed him to maneuver even deeper inside her. Breathless, she stared in wonder at his grey eyes. The candlelight played off the tense and rigid lines of his face. Never had she imagined such a profound intimacy, yet she knew there was even more to come.
She swallowed and whispered, “You are wicked.” His eyes gleamed as his finger caressed her again and again, gliding through the slickness. She mustered a half-smile. “I love it.”
And you, she silently affirmed.
Taviston flipped her onto her back and brought his hand around, continuing his sensual assault. Victoria gave in to the sensation. Nothing wrong with savoring the moment after all.
He captured her lips with his once again, stroking with both his tongue and his finger. She could feel every nerve in her body tensing, tightening, straining. Taviston pulled his head back, but hovered over her, watching while he deepened the dance of his finger.
Within an instant she squeezed her eyes shut and gasped as excited quivers swept her from head to toe. She could not stop herself from moaning or gasping. As the surge of pleasure spiraled down, she opened her eyes and found Taviston’s face a mask of passion, pride, and pain. She reached up and smoothed his jaw.
“Is that supposed to happen that way?” she asked dreamily.
Through clenched teeth he replied, “Yes, there are various ways for these things to transpire.”
“It’s wonderful,” she declared. “Let’s keep going.”
He huffed in amusement then sobered “This next part might cause you pain.”
“I know. I trust you.” Because I love you. It became more and more difficult to hold those words back. But it would do no good to tell him—he had never wanted her for a wife. Better they continue their charade of a love match while living a marriage of convenience.
Taviston stripped her chemise away from her body and she found herself completely naked, and aware of it. He studied her with hungry eyes. �
�You are beautiful indeed.”
He must have noticed her unease, for he quickly pulled her into an enthralling kiss. Victoria set her own hands to exploring him, astonished anew at the strength and solidness of him. A shiver of cold mixed with anticipation overtook her as Taviston drew back and rapidly skimmed off his breeches. Without thinking, she reached for his arousal. She locked her gaze with his as her fingers circled the rigid muscle. In awe, she trailed her fingers down the length of it. She couldn’t help but note the agony in his eyes, however.
“Next time,” he growled, “you may explore all you like.” She nodded and withdrew her hand. She would hold him to his promise. He braced himself over her and suddenly he filled her, fraction by fraction.
Her anticipation grew again. Abruptly, however, he pushed forward with force and a burning pain drove her pleasure away.
Taviston lowered himself to his elbows and whispered, “I’m sorry.” She blinked and realized the pain had diminished already.
He slowly withdrew. But instantly pushed in again.
“Oh, my.”
He employed the same tempo he had used with his finger. Again. And again. And again. The same urgent need rushed through her veins but before that tide of pleasure overtook her one more time Taviston plunged even deeper, stiffened, and a sudden warmth filled her. He buried his head beside her neck and Victoria wrapped her arms around him, stashing away another memory of the feel and scent of him.
She sighed while he placed three delicate kisses on her neck. “Are you all right?”
“I’ve never felt better.”
He chuckled then rolled away from her.
TAVISTON STRODE OVER to the basin of water sitting on a side table and returned to the bed with a wet cloth for Victoria. Her expression of pure joy had faded but the flush in her cheeks and the shimmer in her eyes remained. She hesitantly accepted the cloth, used it shyly, and then returned it to him.
After discarding the scrap of cotton, he turned back. At this point in his intimate relationships, he usually dressed and left. But this was his bedchamber—and this was his wife.
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