The Midsummer Auction

by Pia Tremayne

  “Oh, Anthony,” she gasped, “It’s too much, too much!”

  In response, he softened the pressure of his tongue and swept it gently and lovingly over her, enticing her swiftly to a fourth climax with utter tenderness. How she longed to taste him, to be filled with him. Convulsively, she turned around and stretched out full length over him, burying her face between his hard thighs. She took him into her mouth, her head bobbing up and down as her tongue traveled along the entire length of him. Her legs flexed jerkily at the sides of his head as his tongue and teeth and lips continued their sweet torture. Love and passion liquefied their bones and fused them together as they took each other beyond ecstasy.

  * * * *

  The sun sets over Jamaica at around six o’clock every evening, and by the time they left the stall, it was almost dark. They took the jeep back, leaving his rented car on his property. As soon as they hit the road, he took her hand in his and looked at her tenderly.

  “Are you all right, darling?”

  “Oh yes,” she sighed and gave his hand a little squeeze. “Are you?”

  “I have never been more all right in my entire life,” he said. “I was just worried you might be exhausted.”

  “Oh, I am,” she said. “Don’t be surprised if I fall asleep right at the dinner table.”

  “I’ll give you a bath, feed you, and put you to bed. Would you like that?”

  “It sounds heavenly. I could get used to being spoiled, you know.”

  “I intend to spoil you, love. I intend to.”

  She smiled and rested her head against the back of the seat. By the time they pulled up in front of the house, she was sound asleep, still holding his hand. He shook her hand lightly and stroked her palm with his thumb.

  “Wake up, darling. You’re home.”

  Emma was waiting on the veranda and came out to greet them. She smiled inwardly at their obvious contentment and the sleepy aura of the sexually replete that hovered around them like a wispy cloud as they got out of the Jeep.

  “Dinner’s in the oven. You must be hungry,” she said, her expression perfectly innocent. She got into the Jeep and restarted it. They waited, hands entwined, until she had driven off and then went into the house.

  Nicola sat on the edge of the tub, watching sleepily as it filled. He knelt on the floor, testing the water occasionally to see whether it was getting too hot or too cold and adjusting the taps accordingly. He stood her up and removed her clothes. She pinned her hair up and got in, and he began to wash her as gently as a mother would wash a young child. He concentrated lovingly on his task. He would never tire of looking at all the parts of her. He decided he loved her knees, her elbows, her heels, the little knobs of her spine, all the funny little human parts that are so easy to overlook. He would never overlook even the tiniest part of her. Every inch of her was priceless to him but he was extra tender with her belly, because it held something so irreplaceable, a new little person who was the symbol of their joining and becoming one.

  She kept falling asleep on his shoulder over dinner, and finally he gave up. He picked her up, carried her to her room, and put her to bed. He went back out into the kitchen and cleared away the dishes. Then he poured himself a gin and tonic and went out on the veranda.

  The night air was soft and cool, subtly scented with the commingled odors of grass and trees and flowers and animals and damp rainforest earth. It was rampant with life. He looked up. The sky was raining stars that seemed close enough to touch, a hallmark of the tropics. One could easily be seduced by all this beauty. But he wasn’t because he knew how much unhappiness lay just below the surface. Maybe with time he might learn to live with it. He hadn’t had a chance to tell her of his decision. He wouldn’t be telling her tonight. She wouldn’t even stir until morning. He had to go into New Kingston again tomorrow. He would tell her after he got back.

  He finished his drink and sat on, looking into the blackness, listening to the night noises. About an hour later he got up, went into the bathroom and showered. Then he climbed into bed with her. He watched her face for a long time before he could bring himself to turn out the light. He had discovered that loving somebody that much caused pain, an actual physical pain in the center of his being because he felt so constantly starved for the sight of her.

  When he heard the sound of the Jeep driving up and Emma coming into the house he felt himself growing relaxed, giving in to his own tiredness. Just before he closed his eyes it occurred to him that he had deliberately stayed awake, waiting for Emma to come home, to be sure she hadn’t met with an accident on that winding road. It was new, this feeling of being responsible for other people, but he liked it because it meant he had an extended family now. Warmth filled him at the realization that he would never again be so utterly and completely alone. And it was all because Nicola loved him. He buried his face in her hair so he could breathe her in while he slept.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “I drove Anthony over to his place to get his car,” Emma said as Nicola appeared yawning in the kitchen doorway. “He had to go to Kingston to take care of some business. He said to tell you he’d be back by five.”

  Nicola looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost eleven. She had slept for fifteen hours. Must have been those five orgasms. At the thought, the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile.

  “Feeling good, Nicki?” Emma asked, grinning.

  She grinned back in answer.

  “He’s really nice, Nicki, a really nice man. Don’t lose him.”

  “I don’t intend to,” she replied. “I’m going back to England with him.”

  “Oh, Nicki, I am so glad. You’re doing the right thing.”

  “I know. I thought about what you said and I realized you were right. It was Dad’s dream I wanted to make come true. I didn’t really have a dream that was completely mine, not until I met Anthony. The most important thing to me now is to be with him, all the time. I can barely stand having him out of my sight. I love him so much it’ scary.”

  “And he loves you. He’s crazy about you.”

  “I know he does.” Her eyes grew soft and they were quiet.

  “But what about you, Em?” she inquired suddenly. “Is it always going to be enough just to write? Don’t you want a family of your own, children?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never felt the urge to reproduce just for the sake of reproducing, replicating myself. If I meet someone who I care about and who cares for me, and we decide to build a life together, then it’s something to think about. But until then, I’m happy with the way I am.”

  “I kind of hate going away and leaving you alone, knowing it may be months before I come back.”

  “I won’t be alone. I have a few very good friends. We do things together. And I’ll come over to England to visit you.”

  “Yes, come to stay,” Nicola said eagerly. “I want you there when the baby comes.”

  “You couldn’t keep me away,” Emma replied, getting up and giving her a hug.

  Nicola changed into a halter and shorts and puttered around while Emma worked on her novel. Just before five, she heard the sound of a car and she ran outside. It was Anthony, but he wasn’t alone. She stared in surprise as Enrique got out on the passenger side. He waited while she and Anthony exchanged a kiss. As they broke apart, he approached, smiling.

  “It is good to see you again, Nicola,” he said.

  She smiled with real pleasure. In spite of everything, she liked Enrique. “Good to see you too. How have you been? I was worried about you.”

  “Well, thanks to Anto—Anthony, you no longer have to be. Hello, Emma,” he said as she came up to them. He could tell that the two women were genuinely pleased to see him. It made him strangely happy. He had hated how it made him feel when he knew he had disappointed them.

  “Let’s sit on the porch and have a drink before dinner,” Emma said. “You can stay for dinner, can’t you?” she asked Enrique.

  “I would be honored.” />
  “What did you mean when you said you owed it to Anthony?” Nicola asked, settling herself on the settee next to Anthony.

  “Because he has formally transferred his estate to me. We signed all the documents at the lawyer’s office today.”

  The two women swiveled their heads to Anthony in astonishment, then Nicola smiled. “That is amazing,” she declared.

  “Yes, it is,” Enrique agreed. “It is very generous and I could not be more grateful.”

  “Well, it’s not all that generous,” Anthony broke in. He looked a tad discomfited. “The truth is that on the way to Kingston yesterday morning, it dawned on me that I didn’t want to be Felipe’s son and heir. I did not want his land. I had no wish to be the one perpetuating his memory.”

  Nicola reached out and covered his hand with hers. He glanced at her briefly, his eyes acknowledging her empathy before continuing.

  “I don’t need to sell the land, so I decided, regardless of Felipe’s wishes, that the most suitable person to have it would be Enrique. He has been looking after it for two years, and he’s taken very good care of it. So now it’s his.”

  “In spite of what you say, I think it was a very generous thing to do and I’m so happy for you, Enrique. Now we’ll be neighbors permanently,” Emma said warmly.

  Nicola wasn’t quite sure, but she thought she saw something in the look that Enrique gave Emma. Who knew how things might turn out? Life suddenly seemed so perfect she turned to Anthony and threw her arms around him. He hugged her and then held her away from him, looking into her face tenderly.

  “I need to ask you something,” he said. “And I have to do it now.”

  Emma got up suddenly. “Enrique, would you like to give me a hand with dinner? I could use some help.” He hurried after her, leaving Nicola and Anthony alone on the porch.

  Anthony took her hands in his. “I want to tell you something, darling. I am so sorry I was so selfish. You were absolutely right. I was asking you to make all the sacrifices, and I wasn’t prepared to make any. I want to try it your way, live here half the year and in England the other half. I love you and I would do anything for you, as long as you’re happy.”

  Happiness filled her at this confirmation that he loved her every bit as much as she loved him. She knew what it would have cost him to live in Jamaica but he was prepared to do it, for her.

  “Thank you, Anthony,” she said, her eyes misty. “But I changed my mind since yesterday. I was going to tell you last night. I thought about everything and I realized that my dream about being a grower was all tied up with my love for Dad. It would have been enough if I had never met you. Now, it’s only a poor third or a fourth really, to you, to us, to our child. Your home, our home, is in England, and that’s where I want to be, with you, building our life together. I couldn’t stand it anyway, your traveling up and down. I’d miss you every second. I don’t want to be away from you ever. I’m going back with you, darling.”

  His heart pounding deliriously, he got down on one knee, still holding her hands. “Nicola Edgerton, I love you with every breath I take, and I want you to be my wife desperately. Will you marry me, darling?”

  “Of course I will, Anthony. If you hadn’t asked me I was going to ask you,” she replied, looking at him lovingly through her tears.

  “In that case, I have something else to tell you,” he said with a smile, still kneeling.

  “What is it?”

  “Our wedding day is tomorrow. I got your birth certificate from Emma, and I made the arrangements this morning in Kingston. There’s only a twenty-four-hour waiting period here. Darling, you don’t mind not having a big fussy wedding, do you?” he ended, a little anxiously.

  “Anthony Astonville, you have no idea how much I love you. I would marry you, anywhere, anytime, anyplace you say.”

  His kiss held such passion, so much love her mouth melted under his and returned it a thousand fold. Then they went inside and told Emma and Enrique the news.

  They were married the following day by a marriage officer who drove out to the estate. It was an open-air wedding, in the shade of the huge immortelle tree, and she thought that was a perfect place to do it. Immortelle means everlasting, just like her love for Anthony and his love for her, their love for each other. Her eyes held his, calm and loving, as she repeated the words—“To have and to hold, from this day forward…till death do us part.”

  He knew she meant exactly that. In her simple knee-length white cotton lace dress, white sandals on her feet, a wreath of lilies that Emma had made crowning her hair, she was the most beautiful bride he had ever seen. Silently, he thanked fate for having led his life through so many twists and turns to bring Nicola Edgerton, the only woman he had ever really loved, ever really wanted, to him.

  * * * *

  Three days later, the young Astonvilles returned home to Hampshire. Nicola stood at the end of the walkway, her hand in Anthony’s, looking at the imposing front door that only two months ago, she had walked through with so much trepidation.

  “Welcome home, darling,” he said.

  When Hodgett opened the door, Anthony picked her up and carried her over the threshold. Hodgett was smiling broadly. Sir Anthony had telephoned him two days ago to prepare him for the arrival of the new mistress of Astonville Manor.

  “Welcome home, Lady Astonville,” he said, when Anthony set her on her feet.

  “Thank you, Hodgett,” she said, smiling back at him. “I don’t think I’ll be trying to run off again.”

  “No, madam,” he replied. “I don’t expect you will.”

  “The master suite is ready,” he said, turning to Anthony. “Shall I serve dinner in the dining room, or would you prefer to have it in your suite.”

  “I think in the suite, Hodgett. It’s been a long flight.”

  “Come, darling,” he said as Hodgett went out to retrieve their luggage. “I want to show you our new digs.” He had waited a long time for this. The east wing had remained closed since the death of his parents, and he had always known that the only woman he would ever take there would be his wife.

  Nicola uttered an exclamation of pleasure when they walked in. She had never seen anything so opulent, and yet, so full of warmth, so pleasing to the heart. The room had two dominant features, a fireplace, where a fire blazed nicely, with a beautifully framed reproduction of Fragonard’s Bathers above the gold-veined marble mantelpiece and a gigantic four-poster bed with a canopy made from tapestry panels suspended from the ceiling. In front of the fireplace was a large square coffee table in gleaming cherrywood, on top of which sat a huge porcelain vase overflowing with red and white roses and two ornamental boxes, one inlaid with mother of pearl. A gleaming antique dresser topped by Imari lamps on either end stood against the wall opposite the bed while a matching man’s chest occupied the far wall on the left. Flanking the fireplace were two Queen Anne chairs upholstered in a rich tapestry, with a matching period bench at the foot of the bed. Light from the fireplace, the lamps and the crystal chandelier over the coffee table danced on all the gleaming wood surfaces and lent a magical atmosphere to the room. The walls were textured in ashes-of-roses silk and were punctuated by large windows hung with rich cream silk drapes that puddled gently on the lush rose-patterned carpet.

  “This was my parents’ suite. All the furniture belonged to them. We can do it over if you think it’s too over the top,” Anthony said, looking around with a slightly worried air.

  “No. It’s the most sensual bedroom I have ever seen. I love it. And I really, really love this bed,” she declared. “It’s so huge! We’ll never find each other in it.”

  She walked across the plush carpet, sinking almost to her ankles, kicked off her shoes and jumped up on the bed. She snuggled down in the middle of it and gazed up at the beautiful tapestry.

  “Oh, I’ll find you, love,” he said. He climbed on the bed and lay down alongside of her, his head propped on one hand, looking at her. “Guess what?”

  “Te
ll,” she said.

  “I haven’t kissed you for five hours.”

  “Five hours and thirteen minutes, actually. Don’t you think you should remedy that oversight?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

  “Immediately.” Her lips parted as he bent toward her and she gave a little sigh as he began to explore her mouth. Her breath caught in her throat as his tongue captured hers and her fingers dug into his scalp as passion flared up instantly between them.

  “Kiss them, Anthony,” she said, panting a little and pulling her sweater up to give him access. He obediently left her mouth, and her stomach spasmed when his lips closed hotly over her nipple. Her neck arched and she moaned deep in her throat as he sucked and nibbled and bit her, his hands roaming over her midriff and down and under her skirt, caressing her thighs and moving upward, seeking the ultimate source of his pleasure. He found it her easily, and he began to stroke her where she was so wet, so ready. Her heat seared his fingers and radiated through him, filling him with an immediate and burning desire. His hand reached down and she heard the sound of his zipper.

  “Dinner,” she breathed in warning.

  “I know,” he whispered back. “I won’t put it all the way inside you. I just want to feel it touching you there.”

  He removed her drenched panties, breathed in their scent before tossing them aside. She immediately hiked up her skirt, tightened her arms around him, and adjusted her body under his. They gave a little cry as his hard, throbbing cock connected with her heated centre .

  “Oh God,” he groaned, his shaft pulsing against her sex. “It’s no use, love. I can’t stop there. I have to come inside you. I have to.”

  “Just a little, then. Just put it in a little,” she breathed.

  He gave a painful smothered laugh. “There’s no such thing, darling,” he said, his voice thick with arousal. He pushed and she heaved her body up eagerly as he slid all the way inside her, grunting with satisfaction. She drove her hips forward to meet him as he began to thrust in and out of her, their tongues searching, meeting, and melting together in the sweet perfection of the moment.