He nearly groaned aloud as she strode into the room in a dress that could only have been designed with Cyprian in mind., The gown had a high waist that pushed her full breasts up with an enticing view of the valley between them. Short puffed sleeves hugged her shoulders, and without the hindrance of gloves, he had a generous view of the bare flesh of her arms. But it was the color — a bold, daring red — that had him gaping at her like a fish out of water.
Have I paid for such a scandalous gown? But more importantly… Did she wear that around London?
Neither was a very settling thought as his grip tightened on the stem of his wineglass. When a nearby footman strode forward to seat his wife, a little too eagerly in Michael’s opinion, he glared at him outright, causing the servant to scurry back to his position.
His wife turned to face him then; her eyes alight with what could only be considered concealed mischief. A slight curve played about the corners of her mouth, as if they shared a mutual secret. A ruby necklace and earbobs graced her smooth, creamy skin, and he recognized them as the set he’d gifted to her on their betrothal. They were part of the Beauley family jewels. When she turned her head, the gems sparkled in the candlelight, and caught the red highlights in her hair. She was fascinating, and absolutely breathtaking and — all his.
“…don’t you agree, my lord?”
Michael blinked, only then realizing that she’d been speaking. He cleared his throat. So much for being in control, he thought dryly. She walked in the room dressed as a courtesan and he lost all common sense, including his ability to hear.
“Pardon?”
Her lips twitched. “I said that the lobster bisque is rather good tonight. Don’t you agree?”
“Indeed,” Michael said. He glanced down at the table where the steaming, creamy soup was waiting for him. He hadn’t even realized they had been served until that point, his focus had been entirely set upon his wife. “It smells delicious.”
He forced himself to pick up his spoon, but when he would have brought the first bite to his lips, she moaned in a manner that could only be pure pleasure. But it wasn’t until her enticing pink tongue slid out to lick her lips that Michael’s throat went dry and a trail of fire shot straight to his groin.
He sat his spoon down on his plate with a clatter and reached for his port, taking a long, bracing drink that drained the liquid inside. Instantly, a footman was there to refill it. As he took another healthy swallow, he saw Albina frown at him in concern.
“Is everything alright?” she asked.
No, everything is far from bloody alright. “Of course. Why do you ask?” he gritted out.
She gave a dainty shrug. “You just seem…distracted. As if something is troubling you.”
The only thing that’s troubling me is the question of whether I should order everyone out of this room and bend you over this table or drag you upstairs and… Michael released a swift breath and clenched his fists on the table. “I suppose I’m just tired.”
Again, there was that adorable crease between her brows. “Well, that is regrettable. I was hoping that after dinner we might retire to the parlor and play a game of chess. It’s been awhile since I’ve been faced with such a challenging opponent.”
“Fine.” She glanced over at his harsh tone, so he softened it slightly. “I’m sure I can manage to stay awake for one game, if that’s what you wish.”
“Splendid.” She nearly beamed, making her look like the youthful girl he’d first courted. This time, an ache of a different sort hit him — straight in the chest, but it was enough of a firm reminder to get him through the rest of the meal.
A single game of chess does not a marriage make.
***
Albina was pleased, for it seemed as if her plan was working. He had truly appeared rather discombobulated upon her arrival. Unfortunately, she’d somehow lost his interest along the way, but she intended to bring that fire back to his gaze soon enough.
“Do you have a color preference?” she asked him when they were seated across from each other, the silver and gold chessboard between them.
“No.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “I confess I haven’t had much time to play either.”
She smiled. “Good. Then I might actually have a chance. As hard as I might try, I could never best you at chess.” She selected the silver army, and then glanced at him expectantly.
“Ladies first.”
“Very well.” She considered her options for a moment, and then moved a pawn forward.
He did the same.
For a time, neither of them spoke, merely concentrated on the game at hand. But then, as the minutes passed and the play grew more demanding, Albina found herself deeply in thought. She absently stroked her bishop as she considered her next move, before changing her mind and moving to the rook.
She glanced up momentarily to see if Michael was getting irritated with how long it was taking her to make a decision. But while he had leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in similar contemplation, it was the glow in those brown eyes that caught her attention. He wasn’t watching the pieces on the board so much as what she was doing to them. His jaw was clenched at the slow movement of her fingers as she ran them up and down that miniature castle.
Inwardly, her smile widened, but she was careful to keep her face expressionless. She returned to the bishop, moving it into place and leaned back to wait for Michael’s play, but this time, instead of considering what move to make next, she concentrated on another game entirely.
Trying to be as innocuous as possible, she reached up and toyed with the single long curl that she’d instructed Helen to leave hanging down from the rest of her chignon. She brought it over her shoulder and let it rest between the hollow of her breasts without taking her eyes from the board. She was rewarded when Michael’s hand abruptly jerked, sending three of his pieces scattering across the board. He uttered a curse under his breath as he righted the knight and two pawns that had been taken down. “Sorry,” he muttered, as he shoved a piece into place and sat back.
The next few moves went about the same. While Albina had never known Michael to be so reckless in his strategy when playing chess, she could tell that his mind was anywhere but on the game this evening, as more than one of his moves ended with her capturing several of his pieces, until finally, there was a sad lack of gold upon the board.
But it wasn’t until she slid her queen into place and said rather victoriously, “Checkmate,” that she realized she’d accomplished what she’d never been able to do before. She’d bested him at chess. “I truly thought this day would never come,” she preened.
“Yes, well.” He shifted in his chair. “I said I was a bit out of practice.”
“To my everlasting advantage.” She grinned proudly.
He snorted. “You don’t have to look quite so pleased with yourself.”
“Why not?” she lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “It’s not often I get to claim such a victory over you.”
“Indeed.” His eyes flashed as he rose to his feet. He offered her a light bow. “If you will excuse me, I believe I shall retire so that I might lick my wounds in the privacy of my chamber.”
She instantly felt her smile falter. “Of course.”
“Albina?”
“Yes?” she prompted softly.
She glanced up to see Michael carefully observing her. His gaze swept over her seated form, lingering momentarily on the swell of her breasts “Is everything alright?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
His lids lowered slightly. “You just seem…upset.”
She glanced down at her clasped hands in her lap, feeling rather deflated that she had failed so miserably in a seduction attempt that had seemed to be going so well. One would think that after being with the same man for nearly twenty-five years, twenty of which were spent together, she might feel a bit more comfortable in his company, that she might have the courage to tell him what she wanted. But w
hile she might do her best to entice Michael back into her life, she wasn’t so bold as to come right out and ask him to love her again.
So she did the only thing that she could, even though it nearly tore her heart out of her chest to send him on his way. “I’m perfectly fine. Good night, Chael.”
Restless, Albina stood and walked over to the window, to look out at the darkness beyond. She could see her reflection in the glass from the light that flickered behind her, and wondered what was wrong with that woman staring back at her, the one who hadn’t been able to entice her husband to remain.
But while she thought Michael had left the room, she gasped when she saw his towering form come into view behind her. He reached out a hand and gently touched the side of her neck with the backs of his fingers, causing her body to fly into immediate chaos. Her heart pounded, her knees grew weak, and there was an insistent throbbing between her legs that yearned to be satisfied. His hand slowly moved down her arm, and her eyes slid closed.
“You called me Chael just now.”
Albina’s stomach quivered, as she slowly opened her eyes. She had always thought of him as Chael, had even referred to him as such to her friend Lydia, but she hadn’t called him that in person in years. It had seemed too…intimate when their relationship had been on rough ground. “Why shouldn’t I call you that?” she said quietly. “It’s your name.”
“No,” he returned softly, his hand trailing back up the side of her ribcage. “Michael is my name. Chael is the nickname you gave me when we were courting.” He leaned his head down to whisper near her ear. “It sounds so good to hear you say it again. But I have to wonder why now?”
“I don’t…” She stumbled over her words when his thumb brushed the underside of her breast. “…know what you mean.”
“Don’t you, my sweet Alby?” He nearly purred, speaking his own nickname for her. “Because I think you do. I think this entire evening was meant to entice me back to your bed.” She nearly moaned as his other hand joined the first, both of them just inches from cupping her breasts. “What is it you want from me, Alby?”
After five long years of waiting and yearning, she finally dared to say, “Touch me.”
He replied by slowly moving his hands over her breasts, kneading them gently through her gown. “Anything else?” he whispered near her ear, his breath hot and enticing.
She watched in the glass as he pleasured her, the sight of those large, muscular hands upon her body causing more words to spill forth. “Make love to me, Chael.”
At that, he gently turned her to face him. “As my lady commands.”
His mouth descended upon hers, and Albina thought for sure she would lose the ability to stand. She had denied herself of his pleasure for so long, too long. So many nights she’d yearned for these same arms around her, this same mouth on hers. Now that it was happening, she wasn’t sure what to do, or how to react. It had always been a fantasy on those nights she’d been alone, when books had been the only happiness that filled that hollow void inside of her. At least in between the pages of someone else’s story, she might forget what she’d lost for a brief time.
He pulled away only long enough to extend a hand to her. His eyes sparkled, as tempting as warm chocolate. The slight lines around his mouth, as well as the silver at his temples only added to his appeal. “Come upstairs with me,” he whispered.
Albina placed her hand in his, those warm fingers enveloping her like a caress. Now that Chael had been returned to her, she was going to hold on to his affection for as long as it dared to remain. Once they reignited the spark of the bedchamber, surely the rest would fall into place.
CHAPTER EIGHT
A lady must submit to her husband in the marriage bed…
Lady A’s Advice Column
Albina wanted to rip the buttons right off of her husband’s waistcoat the moment they entered his bedchamber and locked the door. Her heart was pounding; she had never been so impatient to be with him as she was at that moment.
“You’re rather enthusiastic, my lady. I don’t know whether to feel flattered, or a little bit scared.”
Albina smiled, for she could hear the amusement in her husband’s voice. “You haven’t seen enthusiasm yet, my lord,” she said, right before she acted on her impulse and brazenly sent buttons scattering all over the hardwood floor.
They were still pinging, rolling under furniture, when he said, “Oh, dear. I fear my valet will be rather cross with you.”
“Then I’m afraid he’s really going to be mad about this…” With that, she split his silk waistcoat down the back, rending it entirely in two. It fell away from his white, cambric shirt in two discarded flutters.
He glanced down at the ruined material at his feet, and then turned to her with heat in his gaze hot enough to singe. “He may never forgive you.”
Looking her up and down, he reached out and gently ran a finger along her neckline, the tip of it brushing the tops of her aching breasts. With a grin that held the promise of pure wickedness, he said, “My turn.”
Spinning her away from him, he started to slowly unlace her gown. He kissed the side of her neck. “I should hate to tear such a lovely gown…” She shivered at his words, as her dress fell to the floor in a whisper of silk. But when he bent down and removed a knife from inside his boot, she couldn’t hold back a gasp. With one smooth cut, her stays dropped from her body.
“Now that contraption, on the other hand, I could always do without.” The knife clattered to the floor on the other side of the room.
Albina was still clad in her thin, cotton chemise and stockings, her slippers on her feet, when Michael turned her back to face him. He ran his hands up the inside of her body, quickly divesting her of her chemise. His nostrils flared as he tossed the thin cotton aside and looked at her bare body. “Much better.”
Feeling a sense of feminine empowerment, she grasped his shirt and pulled it out of his trousers. “And yet, you’re still entirely overdressed, my lord.”
He cocked his mouth in a smirk, but obediently lifted his arms.
She admired the ripple of muscle that ran across his abdomen and along his biceps. She’d always loved the patch of hair in the middle of his chest that ran across his stomach before dipping below the band of his trousers. There wasn’t too much to be displeasing, but enough where she could run her fingers through the mass.
She glanced down and noted the sizable bulge in the front of his trousers, and dared to reach down and run her fingernails lightly over the material. He leaned his head back with a light groan of pleasure, his Adam’s apple evident in the thick column of his throat.
She couldn’t resist the siren’s pull to lean forward and place a hot kiss on the side of his neck, where his pulse beat strongly with his desire.
“Alby…”
She answered his plea by slowly unbuttoning the front of his trousers. When they fell to the floor, she licked her lips at the sight of the urgent, pulsing manhood that was jutting out from his body, proudly erect. She fell to her knees and took him in her mouth, savoring the taste of him. She wasn’t sure who groaned as she began a steady rhythm that soon had him pulling away from her.
“Any more of that and I will lose what tenuous control I have, my lady,” he growled. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet. He led her to the bed and sat her on the edge, gently pushing her backward. His eyes gleamed wickedly as he said once more, “My turn.”
Albina clenched the bed covers on either side of her, her hips lifting at the first swipe of his tongue across her womanhood. “Chael…” she sighed, and she heard a mumbled rumble in his chest in pleased awareness. Instantly, his pace quickened until her legs were shaking with need. “Oh, God. Yes…” She was panting, begging incoherently, until finally he grabbed her hips and she came apart, the pleasure washing over her like the sea at high tide.
Chael crawled up her body, but instead of entering her, he lay down on his back beside her and pulled her on top of
him. She sat up with one leg bent on either side of him, as he guided himself to her entrance. She gasped at the sheer bliss of feeling inch after glorious inch pushing inside of her. She was panting in earnest again, and she hadn’t even started to move.
“Ride me, Alby.” It was a growl, a command, but one she didn’t mind obeying in the least.
Her eyes rolled back in her head as she began a continuous rhythm that soon had them both drenched in perspiration. He squeezed her breasts, taunting and tormenting, until she opened her eyes. She watched as his pleasure became intense to the point of pain. With a sharp intake of breath, he threw his head back and then spilled his release with a long groan of ecstasy. The sight was so erotic that it instantly sent Albina into her own wave of bliss, and for the second time, she burst apart on a floating cloud of desire.
She collapsed on the bed beside Chael, a contented and disheveled mess.
She had never felt so glorious. It was as if she was truly reborn. And she knew that only in Chael’s arms could she feel such amazing completion.
***
Michael stared at the canopy above his bed as if he’d never seen it before. Odd that something he’d always taken for granted suddenly had new meaning. But Albina had done that. She’d breathed life back into him when he hadn’t even known that he was dying. His health had never been a problem. It was his soul that had been wasting away.
With her beside him, he was whole once again.
A burst of energy hit him in the chest, and he wanted to laugh, to go outside and howl at the moon. If nothing else could prove that Albina wanted things to work out between them, he knew tonight had been a rather good indication of how she felt. She wouldn’t have taken him to bed unless she’d wanted him to be there.
“You seem happy for some reason.”
He glanced down to see Albina gazing up at him as if he was her hero. To share with her every night what had just transpired, he would be that and more if she’d only stay with him and not go back to London.
Second Chance Love: A Regency Romance Set Page 24