by Arlene Lam
Jordan felt his pulse quicken when she looked up at him with those honey brown eyes and smiled. “You little imp you’re inviting trouble and you know it!”
Silencing him Amelia placed one finger to his lips then freeing the last button pushed the shirt from his broad shoulders before sliding the article completely off and leaving it to the floor. Still looking into his eyes Amelia let her hands slide down the hard muscles of Jordan’s abdomen to settle heavily on the waistband of his trousers. Deafly she undid the single button then never breaking contact blazed a scorching trail to the spot she’d just left.
Jordan could scarcely breathe and nearly felt weak as she slowly, meaningfully removed his last piece of clothing and freed him, before taking his hand and pushing him down to their bed.
Amelia nearly laughed as his eyes glazed over in pleasure as she ran her hand up his thigh. She was in control and she was savoring every moment. This game they were playing was far better than cards.
Jordan relaxed fully in his wife’s hands letting his eyes drift closed trustingly, and with great anticipation for what was to come. He relished in the scent of her, the touch and feel and lost himself in the moment content beyond belief. The whole time wondering how in the world he’d gone so long without his angel, his heart.
Jordan was snapped out of his deep thought when suddenly her hands could be felt along the shaft of his hard member and before he could move the sweet feel of her tongue flicking over the tip tore a cry of pleasure from him and he nearly bolted from the bed. Instead he was stilled by one of her dainty hands placing itself on his stomach and a sultry voice saying, “Relax.”
Immediately Jordan did as she bid but the small phrase was not lost on him he’d spoke them to her in a similar moment before. She was quite clever his wife, clenching the heavy bedding as she ran her tongue along the length of him slowly, purposely, Jordan took in every sweet second and made a permanent record of it in his head.
“Do you trust me?” Amelia asked administering her slow torture.
“You are a brat indeed.” Jordan said through pleasure-clenched teeth.
“That’s not was I asked Mr. Bradford.”
“I trust you.” The omission garnished him more pleasure than he was prepared for as Amelia took the tip of him in her mouth and sucked sweetly. Jordan had had enough, his sweet angel would pay.
Placing his hands along the side of her head Jordan managed to bring her face up to his and he had to catch himself before he got lost in the desire-filled gleam of her eyes. Amelia was everything he ever wanted. Jordan refused to give in however. He was going to show his little minx a little something about control. Driving his hands into her wildly wavy hair. Jordan let the other rip away the front of Amelia’s dress, the action winning him a sultry chortle.
Pulling the frayed fabric from her body Jordan captured her lips with his own and roughly pulled her legs about his waist lifting them both up from the bed then and pushing her back gently against the wall. His strong arms holding her securely to him.
Amelia felt her pulse quicken as Jordan’s mouth fell on her neck and she found herself trying to mold herself closer to him. She could feel him capture her hands and raise them over her head in a tight grip and she yielded to him as he took her breast in his mouth the pleasure almost pushing her over the edge.
Yet he stopped all too soon to settle her back on the bed arching her back and tightening her legs about his waist in anticipation Amelia closed her eyes tight feeling him pressing against her thigh. Instead however he moved himself from her to the foot of the bed to blaze a excruciatingly slow trail of kisses from her lower leg to her inner thigh.
“My Princess.” Jordan said in a ragged breath laced with mirth.
“My love,” Amelia moaned. “Please.”
“Ahh sweetheart you make this so hard, but…” Jordan ground out in torn breaths “I told you I always win,”
“You’re an ass.” Amelia whispered, a sweet smile upon her swollen kissed lips.
“Say it.”
“No.” Amelia laughed down at him, he would not win, summoning up her strength Amelia pulled him up till he faced her then wrapping her thighs about him once more positioned herself along his shaft and grinned. “Tonight I win.” She whispered in his ear before thrusting her hips forward joining their bodies at last.
“Woman you will be the death of me.” Jordan began to move at a deliberate and tantalizing pace to both their pleasure and with each movement and soft moan he brought them closer to ecstasy. When she reached up and drew him deeper within her than ever before he lost all control and yelled her name in release.
Amelia joined him a moment later and after the sweet assault of spasms had finally passed she proudly proclaimed “I win.”
“Princess, losing never felt so good.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Jordan yawned and released his hold on Amelia’s form. They’d been lounging in bed all morning but now as noon approached Jordan knew it was time to do what he dreaded. Get up and get to work as well as get Amelia up and hand her over to Margaret. “Princess?”
Amelia heard him but closed her eyes even tighter. She was warm and she was content and she wasn’t about to move. Curling her knees as high as her expanding waist would let her she managed to ignore him completely.
“You little minx, I know you hear me, get up. Today you get introduced to London.” Rubbing the small of her back he hoped the stimulation would help persuade her.
“I don’t recall requesting an introduction.” Grumbling Amelia turned to face Jordan. “We are newly married; we are supposed to stay out of sight for weeks.”
“Duly noted, however if you are going to be happy here you will need friends. Our friends are in part, part of the English high aristocracy and Margaret has hatched a plan to at least have you received in the snobby, albeit beneficial circle. Do it for Georgia’s sake if not your own.”
They were being ridiculous, present her to society—had they lost their minds? London may be in a different country but the basic beliefs were the same. “No. I don’t want to be a part of this.” Rolling on her back Amelia let the firm pillows support her back before setting a stern look to her face.
There was a stubborn tilt to her head that was comical to Jordan yet he smothered a smirk. “Every woman wants this.”
“I’m not every woman.” She was not going to go.
“No you are not.” Jordan could tell this wasn’t going to be easy and decided to bow out of the fight. “Alright sweetheart, stay in bed.” No need to argue Jordan thought, the whole time rummaging through his boudoir removing a crisp white button up shirt.
He’d let Margaret do the dirty work. Donning the shirt he moved to the huge closet to take from it a tan pair of trousers and matching waistcoat. “I however must earn our living.” He could feel her eyes on him as he dressed and by the time he was putting on his waistcoat found it hard not to look at her and climb back in bed. Instead he adjusted his ascot and attached his pocket watch.
“You look devastatingly handsome.” Amelia took in the sight of him standing tall, embodying everything that was a distinguished gentleman.
“Glad you think so Princess.”
“Come home to me soon.” With the way he looked right now it was a danger for him to be on the streets, women would be swooning at the sight of him. Better yet throwing themselves at him.
It was very hard to leave but Jordan gave her a dazzling smile and said. “Of course.” He wouldn’t kiss her, nor hug or touch her because he wouldn’t make it downstairs if he did.
He did make it and with steely will made it to his office as well. Glancing at his watch he mulled through paperwork while patiently waiting for Margaret and Georgia to arrive.
The pile of referrals on his desk were calling Jordan and he needed to answer. The house again would need a staff and the names before him would help him fill the vacant positions needed but the process was foreign to him and the more he read the more frustra
ted he became. Margaret had staffed his home in New Orleans, as well as a few other properties he owned scattered across his homeland, and while in London Regina had done so.
He didn’t feel comfortable having Amelia tackle such a task for many reasons, she was pregnant first and foremost, and he feared she would try to take the task on herself. He would have to again turn the task over to his cousin until Amelia could handle the house herself. Thinking of Margaret—she was late, upstairs when he glanced at his pocket watch Jordan knew he’d be framed the offender, but when he noticed the empty foyer halfway down the staircase he’d felt relieved.
She was turning into Aunt Susannah and didn’t realize it, the fact would make her proud because his Aunt had been wonderful. When they were young Aunt Susannah had been the shoulder to lean on and his constant protector after his father’s death. Margaret was as well. Lately he’d been more than hard on his cousin, but he did love her, and even missed their close relationship, things had changed considerably when he had married Regina, likewise when in turn she wed Jasper. Margaret had done so much for him and always had been there when needed. He wanted to once again start returning the favor.
Just the other day he’d visited John Hollin’s place and dropped a small fortune on a sapphire and emerald bracelet for his cousin and another for a pair of pear shaped diamond earrings for Amelia. He’d yet to present either to the women.
The faint chatter of a young girl could be heard coming from the foyer and Jordan recognized it immediately, the sound jolting the memories from his mind, Jordan rose to go meet his sister. The moment he opened the door the tumbling running form that was her launched its way into welcoming arms. “What happened to my little tomboy you look just like a porcelain doll.” The transformation was uncanny.
“I told you.” Georgia’s face fell in disappointment. “No one likes this new me.” Georgia’s hand moved to her perfect coifed curls to remove a purple ribbon.
“Jordan tell your sister the truth.” Margaret’s tone held warning.
Burying a grin and taking his sister’s small hand in his own Jordan forced her into a twirl. Her deep chestnut hair had auburn highlights and her pretty face held a cute pout and he knew she was beautiful and one day soon, too soon she would be breaking hearts and giving him grief. “You’re a peach and you know it, cute little devil.” Kissing her forehead once more Jordan stood. “You did quite a job Margaret.”
“I did didn’t I, where’s the other lady?” Margaret said pushing a stray tendril from her face away. Taking in her cousin’s appearance a smile crept across her lovely face. He was so happy and it was long overdue and she was so grateful that he finally had found his smile and laugh again, so grateful her heart was near bursting from joy.
“Amelia dear cousin may be a challenge but one that you are better equipped to battle today than I. I’ve got a few engagements to attend, so I’ll wish you luck. Before I go however I’ve something for you.”
Raising a perfectly arched brow Margaret masked a smirk. “What is it another woman you’ve compromised? A basketful of barbs?”
“Give me a moment.” Jordan dashed back to his study and retrieved the box from his drawer and was back quickly. Holding it behind his back he stared down at his cousin. “I love you, but I don’t tell you enough.”
“Dear God! You’re sick aren’t you, dying?” Margaret’s face turned to concern in a flash. What would she do without her cousin he was her best friend.
“No!” Jordan balked. What a horror he must have been over the years if she’d think he was dying because he told her he loved her. “It’s just you’re always there for me cousin, and I love you but I don’t say it enough—you silly woman… dying… are you insane?”
Margaret looked at him with concern but seeing the truth a smile spread across her face. “I love you too.”
“Well now that that’s understood and I’m clearly not dying, here.” Shoving the box into her hands Jordan walked away. “Dying,” he scoffed again. “Crazy women all three of you are going to send me to the asylum.” And with that he disappeared around the corner, his grumbling growing faint.
Margaret waited until the sound was all but vacant to peek in the box, her hand flying to her mouth in surprise at what she saw before she screamed, very unladylike in the house. “Thank you Jordan!” She knew he heard her, even though he hadn’t responded. Taking Georgia’s hand in her own Margaret gave the child a warm smile. “How do you like your new home?”
Georgia crunched her nose up. “It is larger than the one back home, but here I have no friends. Even worse no Vivian, who will I play with?”
“You’ll make new friends don’t worry and you always have Amelia and Jasper and me.” Margaret responded with a curt nod. Margaret accepted that it could be hard to adjust but she knew that the girl would do fine. “Come along sweetheart today we will do to Amelia what we did to you a week ago.”
“We’re going to torture her?”
Rolling her eyes Margaret proceeded up the stairs. Jordan said Amelia was in her room, a lot of help that was there were many rooms. Georgia was opening every one of them peeking her head in, then running ahead to the next. At least she didn’t have to do the hard part Margaret thought as the youngster kept on the path.
Keeping in step behind her Margaret was stopped by a small hand and a smile. “She’s in here cousin Margaret.” Georgia moved to the other side of the room after that. Wrapping her arms around her sister in law she squeezed her tight. “I’ve missed you.”
“And I you.” Amelia pulled the girl to her tightly. “You look downright beautiful.”
“She does doesn’t she?” Margaret interrupted.
“As do you.” Amelia took in Margaret’s appearance with a smile. She seemed happier, a smile was on her lips and the take charge Margaret was replaced by a free spirit.
Her hair was loose about her shoulders and the indigo morning dress she wore made her eyes sparkle. It was a good look for her.
She had heard their steps down the hall long before they actually came to her room and had time to wrap herself in a long silk robe and prop herself up upon pillows. She really wasn’t feeling up to this. Her stomach was churning and she was beyond tired. Cuddling Georgia to her she gave a sigh, Jordan wanted her to learn about London. She would do it for him. “So what is first?”
“Well Jordan’s bought you enough clothing to last a season, if anything we will have to get a seamstress to accommodate your growing middle. He wants you to make friends so you’re not lonely when we are absent. Go on and get dressed I have the perfect lunch date arranged with Mrs. Johanna Lusby, she’s around your age, a little older, and she has an eight year old that our Georgia will enjoy, she’s married and very understanding. I think the two of you will have a lot in common.”
“I take it you mean tolerant by saying understanding?” Amelia moved from the bed to the nearby dresser removed some stockings and a chemise before heading to the closet to remove a pale green taffeta dress, simple in design but still elegant. The dress gave her room to breathe unlike the dress Margaret wore, synching right below her breast to hang loosely down to the ground. The light material would feel heavenly against her skin, stepping behind her changing closet she listened to Margaret talk.
“You know it might be nice to visit Chelsea Garden as well, you’ll love it.”
Amelia nodded before realizing Margaret wouldn’t notice since she was out of sight. “Alright.” Her chest seemed to have doubled in size she noticed in disappointment pretty soon she’d be wearing sheets. “I feel awful.” She muttered under her breath everything was getting too tight and in turn her nice dress was a tad too snug forcing her breasts to nearly overflow at the top. Convincing herself not to care she fought her way into her stockings and heels becoming only slightly winded and with one last smoothing of her hair presented herself. “This is as good as it gets.”
Her somber face was unnecessary she was a pretty little vision and amazingly she needed no extra
primping to become so. Her natural beauty was striking and it was becoming more apparent why Jordan had fallen for her. “You’re the only women I know who is stunning but yet it didn’t take hours to become so.” Margaret informed, the statement winning her a glowing smile. “So let me tell you a little about Johanna. She is twenty eight and is married to Lord Wilbur Lusby; I believe he is thirty two. They were married eleven years ago and it was a grand affair I came all the way from our States just to attend. We met while Jordan was married to Regina.” Margaret looked at Amelia cautiously she was not too sure if she even knew about Regina and if she did how much she might know was anyone’s guess. Deciding to keep mum on the subject she continued on. “She is an avid acting member of the National Women’s Suffrage Movement much to her husband’s dismay. Poor old Wil gets ribbed about it non-stop yet never tries to stop his wife. Oh but enough talk you’ll see for yourself soon enough.
“Margaret why do I have to do this? Amelia asked this while dragging her feet and following the other woman.
“You’re doing this to build a new life.” That silenced her. Margaret led the way outside at a firm pace. Every once in a while asking if her companions were alright. With each nod of annoyed assurance she pressed on until they found themselves piling into the waiting black and gold lacquered carriage outside. “Drive on.” She signaled and soon with a jump they were moving across the cobble paved driveway toward the dirt beyond.
Amelia hugged Georgia to her and paid little attention to Margaret as she rattled off titles, and ranking, at the moment she didn’t want to learn which family was which and if a man were a Duke, or Baron, if a woman was to be greeted as sheer Lady or her Grace.
Her tummy jolted, her nerves making themselves known. She had never been good at meeting new people or friends, she was beyond nervous. She hoped that everything went well for Jordan and Margaret’s sake. She hoped this Lady Lusby was a kind woman and easy to get along with.