Wedded to the Wicked Lord: Historical Regency Romance (Wicked Warwick Wives Book 2)

by Ella Edon

  Slowly, Louisa approached him, swallowing harshly. His arms were sprawled at his side, his head tilted slightly away from the door. With cold fingers, she reached down to take his hand, putting it by his side.

  Jerome’s fingers curled over hers. Louisa went still. “Louisa?” came a croak.

  Louisa didn’t move. She stopped breathing for half a second before she let out a rush of air and sank onto the bed by his side. “I’m here,” she said softly.

  Jerome’s eyes fluttered and then parted slowly. He looked up at the dark ceiling in a daze before his gaze drifted over to her. “How are you here?” he asked, his voice nothing but a whisper.

  A lump was forming in her throat. Louisa didn’t want to cry, but seeing him in this state, she didn’t know what else she could do. “What do you mean?” she chided gently, trying to pull herself together. “I live here.”

  “No.” He closed his eyes again, a lump bobbing in his throat as he swallowed. “How are you by my side right now? I thought…”

  “Hush,” Louisa said softly. “Don’t speak if it’s too painful.” His fingers tightened around hers. Louisa clutched his hand back tightly, reveling in the rush of warmth she felt from his touch. Her eyes widened when he tried to get up. “What are you doing? You should remain on your back!”

  “I’m fine.” Even as he said it, he winced, his free hand lifting to his head. “It is nothing but a scratch.”

  “A scratch would not bleed so profusely,” she insisted.

  To her shock, he had the strength to smile. “Perhaps I should have studied science to understand why wounds to the head tend to create such an uproar. Believe me, Louisa, I feel fine.” And then he sagged against the bed rest. Louisa gasped, drawing closer. “Only…tired.”

  She didn’t know what to say. Her worry was palpable, clogging her throat so no words came out. She could only stare at his pale skin, watch the dried blood at his hairline, and feel her horror and concern deepen to an incredible degree. It was his hold on her hand that kept her steady, his strong grip that consoled her into thinking he might not be as bad as he looked.

  “What happened, Jerome?” she demanded, her tone much sharper than she intended. But hysteria laced her words, making it near impossible to bring it to normalcy. “How did this happen to you?”

  “I was robbed,” he sighed. He rested his head on the headboard behind him, a smile playing around his lips. “Now that I think back on it, it was rather foolish of me to be traveling alone at night.”

  “Of course that was foolish!” she gasped. “Do you not know how much of a target you become when you do such a thing? Goodness, surely you know better!”

  Jerome turned his head to face her, raising one brow. “Are you…nagging me right now, Louisa?”

  Her face went hot, her lips parting. No words came to her tongue, her body growing numb at the gentle, inquisitive look in his eyes.

  What should I say? Should I tell him…how I truly feel? The thought was daunting enough on its own, but with him staring so boldly at her, as if waiting for her to respond, it was something else entirely.

  “I—”

  There was a knock on the door just then, cutting off her words. Louisa nearly breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes?” she called.

  “Pardon me, my Lady,” came Samson’s voice on the other end. “The physician is here.”

  “Show him in.” Louisa quickly got to her feet, clasping her hands to keep from fidgeting nervously. Jerome was still staring at her, and knowing that he was watching her every move made it difficult to act normal.

  The door opened and Samson swept in with a pudgy man behind him. The man wobbled over to Louisa first, bowing slightly. “It is a pleasure to greet you, my Lady. My name is Mr. Wilmott, Mr. Cooper’s physician.”

  “Thank you for coming, Mr. Wilmott,” Louisa responded, happy to see that her voice was steady—at least somewhat ordinary. “Please, take a look at him.”

  Mr. Wilmott made his way to Jerome’s side and began to examine his wound. He grasped Jerome’s chin with his fat fingers, turning it from side to side as he hummed thoughtfully under his breath. Then he rummaged through the bag he’d carried with him. Louisa tried to pay attention to what the physician was doing, tried to keep her nervous behavior to a minimum, but she couldn’t ignore Jerome’s unwavering gaze. He was studying her so openly, with such deep curiosity that Louisa couldn’t think straight.

  After a few minutes, Mr. Wilmott began to clean the wound. “What, may I ask, caused this, Mr. Cooper?” he inquired.

  “The bottom of a pistol,” Jerome stated.

  Louis tensed. That was far worse than she’d been thinking.

  “Heavens,” Mr. Wilmott murmured. “I take it a group of ruffians took to you? The world would be a much better place if they would find better things to do than steal from others.”

  “Perhaps.” Finally, Jerome turned his attention to the man by his side. “What do you recommend I do for the rest of the night, Mr. Wilmott?”

  “Well, considering the actual wound is not as large as I first thought, a simple bandaging and some rest should be just fine.”

  “Are you certain?” Louisa blurted out before she could stop herself. “He could hardly walk when he returned home. Surely that means something is wrong.”

  “Is that so?” Mr. Wilmott mused aloud, lifting a brow at Jerome as he smeared something on Jerome’s wound.

  “Merely because I was tired,” Jerome stated. His gaze found Louisa’s again and this time, she didn’t have the strength to look away from it. “I now know that it is quite difficult to ride for hours while bleeding from your temple.”

  “You should have known that beforehand,” Louisa grumbled, unable to help herself. She might have been mistaken, but she could have sworn Jerome’s lips twitched at that.

  It didn’t take long for Mr. Wilmott to finish what he was doing. At Jerome’s request, and despite Louisa’s protest, he did not bandage the wound, deciding to leave it covered by the ends of Jerome’s hair. Louisa consoled herself by thinking that the wound was far smaller than she’d expected, deciding to put her trust in the physician.

  “If you find that the pain is too much,” Mr. Wilmott said once he was all done. “I will leave a small bottle of laudanum for you. Though I doubt you will need it.”

  Jerome shook his head. Louisa focused on the movement, watching for any signs of pain. “I will not.”

  “Ah, very well then. I bid you a good night then, Mr. Cooper. My Lady.” Mr. Wilmott bowed before he made his leave, followed by Samson.

  Louisa stayed by the door for a moment before she finally turned to face Jerome. As she expected, he was already watching her. She pushed her anxiousness aside to resume her spot by his side. Though her hand itched to take his, she didn’t. “I didn’t think you could be so reckless,” she said to him.

  “What exactly are you referring to?” he asked, his tone idle. “Traveling in such a state, or neglecting to have my wound bandaged?”

  “Both,” she sighed. “You must plan on making me worry all night.”

  “I thought you would be asleep.” His tone was soft as he spoke, his eyes searching her face. Louisa had a feeling she knew what he was looking for. “I did not think you would know about this.”

  “I would have found out eventually.”

  “But you would not have been concerned,” he responded instantly. “Now I wonder if I was mistaken about that.”

  Louisa thinned her lips. She could feel her confession on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t have the strength to say it. Not after his first rejection.

  She stared at him for a moment longer before she nodded and rose. “I should leave you to rest. It would not be wise to ignore Mr. Wilmott’s orders.”

  Before she could walk away, he grabbed her hand. His grip was strong enough to keep her there. “No,” he murmured. “Stay.”

  Perhaps two weeks ago, she would have protested. Two weeks ago, she would not have come to his bedc
hamber at all, preferring to ask Henry about his condition if she were curious. But now, she had no strength to resist his request. She wanted it as much as he did.

  Nodding, she slid her hand out of his before she walked around the bed and sat on the other side. A shiver went through her when she stretched her leg out onto the bed.

  “I was thinking about you.”

  “P-pardon?” Her stutter surprised her as much as it did him and she blushed furiously.

  Louisa could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke next, “I should have been more aware of my surroundings but because I was so lost in thoughts of you, I did not notice the thieves until it was too late.”

  “That only makes me feel guilty,” she muttered. “Surely there is a reason you are saying this?”

  “Can’t you tell?” This time, she could hear the laughter and Louisa looked at him, blinking at the way he smiled at her. “After last night, it was my every intention to keep my distance from you. I believed it was what you wanted and what was probably best for me. But now I see that that will be impossible, since I cannot get you out of my head.”

  Her heart was racing now. Her hand lay limply at her side, itching to touch his, which was just inches away.

  “And then, on my way back,” he went on, “all I kept hoping was that you were asleep. I did not want you to see me like this. I did not want to frighten you.”

  “Your hopes were for naught.”

  “Yes,” he chuckled. “Though I do not mind. You are here with me now, after all.”

  Now, Louisa was certain she was red from head to toe. She’d heard all manner of sweet words spoken to her from men who hoped to marry and bed her. But none of them had brought on such a reaction. None of them had made her long for something she hoped was within reach.

  “I’m sorry, Jerome,” she blurted out, not stopping to think.

  “About what?” he asked.

  “About my actions last night. I know I came across as quite callous and unfeeling when…” It was difficult, she realized, trying to show her tender emotions. Far more difficult than when she’d been hoping to seduce him. “When you told me about your past and how you felt about me. It is true that I did not know what to say but that does not excuse how aloof I was as a result.”

  “Thank you, Louisa. I am truly happy to hear that.”

  “May I see them?”

  His brows lifted slightly at that. “My scars?”

  Slowly, she nodded, biting her lip. She hoped she wasn’t being too forward, but before she could retract her request, he nodded and sat up. She reached out to help him, ignoring the tender shiver that went through her when their skin came into contact. Slowly, she helped him out of his clothing until he was in nothing but his trousers.

  Her face was hot again. She wondered if he could see it, if he could see every thought that was going through her head. She liked to think that he could, so that he could know how nervous she was to touch him. Know, too, how eager she was to be closer to him.

  There was no wine coursing through her this time, nothing to bolster her confidence. She was acting purely through her sudden need, and as she lifted a hand to his chest, feeling the coarse curls under the tips of her fingers, that need shot through the room.

  “Louisa…” His voice was breathless.

  She didn’t say anything. Something took hold of her, something untamed and overpowering. She was no longer thinking. Though she sought the scars, running her fingers along the pale outline, she couldn’t help but notice how hard his chest felt, how perfectly easy it was to touch him like this.

  Jerome caught her hand, and for a moment, Louisa was afraid he would reject her again. But then, he said, “Are you sure you are comfortable doing this?”

  “I am.” The words came without hesitation. It even surprised Louisa to see how easily she could do such a thing, when the very thought of it had disgusted her before.

  Slowly, his hand fell away, allowing her to continue her perusal of his chest. She slid her hand up his chest, towards his collarbone, and then hooked her fingers behind his neck. She wanted to kiss him, needed to. The urge was so outrageously intense that Louisa couldn’t hold herself back.

  She leaned in, only slightly tentative. In the back of her mind, she was afraid he would push her away again, but he didn’t. He stayed perfectly still as she pressed her lips against his. The touch was enough to bring the hairs on her arms to a stand. Though it was tender, their lips only brushing against each other, Louisa felt her need grow exponentially.

  She deepened it, pulling herself closer to him. After a moment, Jerome laid his hand on the small of her back, holding her against him as he began to kiss her back. It was as explosive as the last kissed they’d shared, but this time, Louisa felt a sense of ease. As if she could melt into his arms and remain safely there forever. It was what spurred her on, what made it so easy for her to trust him when another hand came to hold her at the hip.

  Fire burned in the pit of her stomach, filled with such overwhelming passion that Louisa didn’t know how to handle it. She caressed the sides of his face with her hands, nearly dragging herself into his lap. When both his hands rested on her hips, she felt her legs tense with an unnamed need, the spot between her thighs clenching.

  Jerome pulled away, breathless, but he didn’t let go of her. That was the only reason Louisa had the confidence to remain where she was. “May I undress you?”

  The question had her body going up in flames. Words failed her in that moment, so she could only nod, breathless. His eyes were dark, heated as they traveled down the length of her, coming to stop at her thighs. He reached for the hem of her dress in a slow enough manner, giving her time to stop him if she so wished. But she didn’t. She only watched as he gripped her nightdress and then closed her eyes as he tugged it up over her head.

  The wind hitting her bare skin should have made her self-conscious. She should have at least shied away from his dark, lusting eyes. Even though he did not touch her, she wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d felt a little violated. But all she wanted was to feel his hands on her. Driven by her yearning, she wanted every bit of him.

  Louisa boldly took his hand and placed it on her waist. Jerome’s eyes shot to hers, shocked, but then he put his other hand on the other side of her waist. He gripped her lightly there, making shivers skitter up her spine, before he gently brought them to the front and touched her lightly on her breasts.

  Louisa tensed and Jerome went still. He didn’t have to say aloud what his eyes were clearly asking: is this all right? She nodded. It warmed her to know how much he didn’t want to overstep, how much he wanted to make sure she was fine before giving in to his urges. Pleasure rushed through her when he gripped her more firmly this time, his fingers running over her peaked nipples. And then, he leaned forward and brushed a kiss over her cleavage.

  “Jerome…”

  He lifted his eyes to meet hers, but he didn’t move his head. He only waited a beat, as if waiting to hear her protest, and when she gave none, he kissed her again, lifting a hand to cup them as he did.

  The pleasure was more than she could have imagined, more than she ever thought possible. Louisa felt her bones turn to liquid under his gentle touch and it took all her strength not to sag against him, begging for more. She liked how slowly he was moving, how gently he touched her. As if she was too precious to be handled without care, as if every inch of her body should be cherished and loved. He trailed his kisses upwards instead of down, grazing her neck, resting lightly on her lips. And then he descended again. Louisa cradled his head to her as he did.

  His hand was slowly drifting past her stomach, and lower still. Louisa tried to keep herself still, to keep from squirming under the tenderness of his touch. But that feat was near impossible when she felt his fingers brushing her inner thigh.

  “Louisa?” he probed.

  Louisa didn’t open her eyes. She only bit her lip as she slowly nodded, knowing very well that he was watching he
r. There was no way she could say no to anything he was doing to her.

  Spurred on by her acquiescence, his hand eased between her lower lips. Louisa gasped, eyes flying open to stare unseeingly at the ceiling. He didn’t stop. In slow, deliberate motions, he twirled his fingers in a small circle, surrounding the nubbin that laid there. Louisa reached for the pillow behind her to keep herself still.

  But it was impossible to. The pleasure was so intense, so beautiful, so perfect, that she couldn’t bring herself to hold back her moans. Jerome’s lips found her nipple again, his finger never stopping its indecent movement. The mixture of his gentle teeth and his quickening finger had every ounce of her body responding to him—and without warning, her climax ripped through her body with such force it left her gasping for breath.