Lady Northam's Wicked Surrender

by Vivienne Westlake

  “Simon!”

  She needed him to take her. It all seemed so foolish now. The years apart, the waiting, the anger, the unrequited desire that buried itself deep within her soul. She’d always wanted Simon. If only reality could have been as good as this dream.

  Simon’s finger breeched her opening, slid deep inside. Her muscles squeezed over him, sucking him in.

  Her head rolled back and she moaned his name again.

  Chapter Two

  Simon sat with his feet propped on the small desk. The unwritten letter lay across it. He’d managed to write all of two sentences. He should wait until tomorrow to finish it. In fact, he should be abed like everyone else. Waverly could wait.

  Though it had been a long, sodden ride to the Chilton estate, he hadn’t wanted to stop. What was the point of staying at an inn when he could be at home with his family within a couple of hours? Despite the warning of the coachman, he’d pressed on through the night, arriving just after the stroke of midnight.

  Servants had already prepared the room next to Millicent’s for him. He missed his niece and nephew and couldn’t wait to see his family tomorrow. He’d seen them so rarely in the last few years and their two visits to India had not been long enough.

  There was someone else he missed just as much, if not more. Rowena. At first, he’d stayed away out of anger, then out of respect for Paul’s death. He couldn’t wait anymore. The years had not eased his longing for her and he hoped that she missed him as much as he missed her. It was time to put the past behind them.

  He wanted to believe they could make a future together. The desire consumed his mind, setting a blaze where common sense should be. What if she was not the Rowena he remembered? What if she was not the sensitive, kind-hearted soul he’d fallen in love with? He could be in love with a memory, lost in the dream of what might have been.

  There was plenty of time to think about it later. Right now, he needed to get some sleep. Simon removed his jacket and shoes and had taken off his shirt when he heard distressed sounds emanating from the other room. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he’d even heard his name. He knew that Millicent was sometimes plagued with nightmares, so he set down the shirt, grabbed the candle, and hurried over to the next room.

  He burst open the door to find a woman in the bed, not his niece. He considered exiting the room and calling for a chambermaid, but the woman writhed about so, he worried that she’d hurt herself in her sleep. Closing the door so as not to awaken the household, he turned back to her.

  Darkness covered most of the room, but the dim light revealed that she had dark hair and a slender form. He set the candle down and carefully reached over to shake her awake. Her hair covered her face, so he could not make out her features.

  The simple contact was enough to make the skin of his arms tingle. She felt warm under his fingers and he realized it was probably a bad idea to intervene. He’d been without the company of a woman for a very long time. Best to wake her and make his escape as quickly as possible.

  “Madam!” he called, uncertain of her station. He shook her again. “Madam, please awaken!”

  Her eyes flew open and she turned her face towards him. “Simon,” she whispered. It was Rowena Sharpe. No, Lady Northam, he reminded himself. It was difficult for him to think of her that way, even after all of this time. Though he’d forgiven Paul for falling in love with her, Simon still had difficulty accepting that she’d married someone else. Why, Rowena? He wanted to ask her, but now was not the time.

  Now, she was here, in the same house with him, lifting her body towards him.

  With heavy-lidded eyes, she took his face in her hands. He did not get the opportunity to reply. Her lips devoured his and he could not resist anymore. He kissed her back eagerly.

  Her lips tasted of peppermint. The sweet, refreshing flavor spread over his mouth as he laved his tongue over hers. He couldn’t get enough.

  Little nails pressed into his back as she clutched him and greedily devoured his mouth. He cupped her neck gently, wrapping his other arm around her.

  He had no idea what good fortune made her drop all inhibition and kiss him so wantonly, but he was grateful. Never in his vivid imaginings had he thought she would be so eager for him at their first meeting.

  Soft sounds came from her lips as she deepened the kiss. The moans went from his ears to sear their way down to his cock. His chest burned as desire wound its way through him.

  He looked into her dark green eyes. Rowena was his. It had been so long and no one else ignited the desire within him the way she did. Past and present mingled in his mind as he kissed and caressed her. The smell of rosewater washed over him and he remembered she’d always favored this scent.

  Unable to help himself, a low groan escaped him.

  “Touch me,” she whispered.

  He wanted to. If it were possible, he would go to his grave with her touch on his skin. Though he’d been tender in the past, never pushing her into intimacy, now he wanted to take the desire she brazenly offered him.

  He needed to brand his scent, his touch, his name over her body. Why had he waited this long? Out of respect for Paul? Paul, who had married the only woman Simon had ever loved?

  A little of the old anger rose within him again. He could have had Rowena already, if it weren’t for Paul.

  Simon caressed her as he skimmed his fingers along her torso, lifting off her muslin shift. Her sensuous olive skin seemed almost amber under the candlelight. Watching the light play across her breasts and belly made his cock swell. He wanted to taste every inch of her, wanted to run his hands over every part, in every way possible.

  Heart thumping, he leaned forward to kiss her and let his hand fall to her thighs. He wanted a taste, but was too cautious to just throw her legs over his shoulders. Rowena was too exquisite to handle roughly and he had dreamed of this moment for so long. He would not spoil it by frightening her.

  He took her mouth slowly at first, warming her up to him. Matching the strokes of his tongue, he circled his fingers over her folds, slipping them inside to touch her clit. Rowena whimpered. Her pussy was already wet and the knowledge made him rock hard. As he continued stroking, she slid her tongue across his lips and lightly bit the corner of his lower lip.

  Emboldened by her response, he pressed his fingers deeper inside and let his thumb circle the sensitive nub. She cried out. “Please, Simon.”

  Tremors went through him at the sound of his name. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt such pleasure at a word.

  Letting her back rest against his arm, he shifted her so that he could play more deeply between her legs. His fingers pumped inside as his thumb continued to tease her.

  “More.” Her back arched.

  He bent down to take one of her nipples between his teeth. Not too hard, but enough so that they closed over the tight bud. His hand continued to delve in and out of her cunt.

  She reached her hand down and pulled his wrist toward her, silently demanding him to press harder. He obeyed and was rewarded by the sound of her heavy breathing.

  Faster and faster he moved, keeping time with her low cries. Pearls of moisture dripped over his hand and he could tell her orgasm was close.

  He licked her nipple, letting his tongue swirl around it. Then, as her body tightened, he gently bit down again, rubbing his teeth over the tip.

  Rowena keened so loudly he had to hold her head in his hands and cover her mouth with his.

  Her breathing slowed. He could hear her gulping in air as her body calmed itself.

  “Rowena,” he said. He lifted his fingers to his lips and let her taste wash over his tongue. Sweet, with a hint of saltiness, she was beyond anything he’d imagined.

  Her eyes opened. She leaned forward to press her lips to his. With cool fingers, she let her hand trace the line down the center of his chest. He sucked in a breath when her hand hovered over his trousers. When she looked into eyes, he lost the ability to breathe.

 
; Never had she been so bold with him. Their prior experience had been limited to kisses in the garden and once--just once--his fingers had stroked her breasts. He’d never touched her skin to skin the way he’d done tonight. Only her lips, her neck.

  She would undo him if she caressed his straining cock now. As much as he wanted to spill himself under her exquisite touch, he could not risk spoiling their first time together.

  A creaking sound down the hall caught his attention. It sounded like a footstep on the stairs. “Someone is coming,” he said. “I had better go.”

  “But—”

  He put a finger to her lips. “Do not worry. I have every intention of finishing this.” He looked down at her rounded breasts and soft thighs. “Soon.” He shifted so that he could adjust his trousers. Then, he laid her down and slid the sheets over her, tucking them tightly around her so he would not be tempted to touch her again.

  This was not exactly how he had intended to make up with Rowena. While it was far better than any reunion he might have planned, he’d wanted to take things easy, flirt with her, make her smile. See if there was any lingering affection between them.

  Though she had once chosen Paul, he still hoped she might come to love him again. After three years of widowhood, perhaps she was in a place where she could let another man into her life. Paul’s death had been a surprise to everyone and it could not have been easy for Rowena.

  He looked down at her sleepy face. “I will see you in the morning, my love.” He squeezed her hand, then went to the door, listening for a moment and when he heard no more footfalls, he exited the room with a soft sigh. Good Lord, forgive him for taking such advantage of her in the middle of the night. He’d been helpless to her arousal, but it was a thin excuse.

  Simon returned to his room. He would have to find a way to redeem himself. Because it was more than the Waverly title that had brought him here to England. For three years, Simon had debated on whether to come back.

  When he’d inquired after Rowena two months ago, Alice had hinted that maybe she was finally ready to see him again. And considering everything else going on with his family, he could no longer make up an excuse not to return.

  Finding Rowena here in the room next to his seemed like more than coincidence. Fate had turned in his favor and he would use it to his every advantage.

  ****

  Rowena hesitantly made her way down to breakfast. She’d managed to arrive without encountering anyone in the hall. Though earlier she could swear she’d heard Simon humming in a nearby room. Her mind must be playing tricks on her. She had, after all, spent the entire night dreaming erotic fantasies about him.

  A hot red crept up her cheeks now as she walked in and spotted Simon by the window. She froze. When had he gotten here? She didn’t remember hearing him arrive. Could last night have been real? Had Simon entered her room last night and attempted to make love to her?

  The temptation to walk out of the room overwhelmed her. She did not want to see him. Fortunately, his back was turned. Did he know she was here? And, if he had been in her room last night, what must he think of her now? Seeing him in the light of day made her heart beat a jarring rhythm. He was here, in the same house, just a few feet away from her.

  She didn’t know what to do. It was very possible that the heated kisses they’d shared were real. Which meant he had held her in the night, when she’d dazedly woken from her dream and thought she’d gone from one sensual illusion into another. It had been Simon, not her imagination, that had spread her legs open and caressed her in the most intimate place. It was Simon that had held her close and kissed her so deeply her very fingers trembled from it. She had to know for sure. How much was real and how much was fantasy?

  Lord Rutherford had indeed returned. Her worst fear, her deepest dream, was now her reality. And she had no idea what to do.

  Should she pretend nothing had happened? If it was a dream, no one ever had to know. But, if it was real, she’d nearly let him ravish her last night. What were his intentions? It did not speak well of him to awaken a lady in the middle of the night and take liberties that should be reserved for a husband.

  Agitated, Rowena squeezed and rubbed her fingers with her other hand. She stood there, unmoving, not sure whether to run or whether to pull Simon aside and reprimand him.

  “Good morning,” Alice called to her.

  She straightened her back and opted for cordial formality. She would be damned if she would let him think she was affected. “Good morning, Alice,” Rowena responded, her awareness still on the imposing man at the window. Though the room was large, he filled the space easily, commanding it with his very presence the way he commanded everything. Was it any wonder that she couldn’t stop thinking about him, even in her dreams?

  Alice looked from her to Simon and back again. “Lord Rutherford is just returned from India.” She stood up. “Simon, you remember Lady Northam. She and her sister are staying with us this month.”

  He turned and the light caught one cheek, while the other side of his face stayed in shadow. The darkness suited him and she couldn’t help but remember the way he looked last night, pinning her body to the bed.

  “Hello. It is nice to see you this fine morning, Lady Northam. I trust you slept well?” He bowed.

  Her chest flushed. The words were polite, but his gaze—it set her stomach ablaze. She looked down under the intense heat of his stare.

  Her fingers fidgeted with the fabric of her gown. She studied the pattern of tiny cream diamonds on a green background. It was a last-minute choice as Molly had laid out a pink chambray morning gown. But Simon had always admired gowns that matched her eyes. Some part of her must have known she would see him today.

  “Oh!” Delphine exclaimed. “Good morning, Lord Rutherford,” she said, entering the breakfast room. “How do you do, my lord?” She curtseyed.

  Rowena looked up to see Simon greet her sister. “I am thoroughly spent from traveling.” He glanced at Rowena.

  Once again, her face grew warm. She did not know if he intended to tease and discomfit her or if she only imagined it. She turned to walk to the sideboard, ignoring the stares she knew were following her.

  They cannot know anything, she reassured herself. She swallowed. Presumably, Alice and Delphine were merely curious as to how she would respond to Simon’s presence. As far as anyone knew, she had not seen him in six years. Not since just after the wedding. Her alarm was for nothing. For all she knew she was overreacting to a fit of her own imagination.

  “Welcome home, Lord Rutherford,” she said softly, gathering fruit onto her plate.

  “Yes, welcome home, my lord,” Delphine said. “Did you have a pleasant journey home?”

  Rowena was thankful that Delphine seemed in control of herself this morning. One never knew when she would forget herself and say something to embarrass everyone. Sometimes she wondered if Delphine did it on purpose.

  “Let us say that I am quite relieved to be back on English soil.”

  “And with excellent timing,” Alice said, stroking her round belly.

  He smiled broadly and assisted Alice to the table. His affection was plain and Rowena was surprised at the pang of jealousy she felt. When had Rowena ever seen him smile so? Not since he’d kissed her so many years before. The day in the park was a well-worn path carved into her mind. She remembered his blue jacket and loose cravat and the way it felt to thread her fingers through his dark blond curls.

  “Everyone will be so delighted to see you,” Alice said to her brother. “We didn’t tell anyone yet other than the servants.” She carefully glanced at Rowena. Her gaze lingered and Rowena forced a smile. “We wanted it to be a surprise.”

  Yes, it certainly was a surprise. Not as much as finding Simon in her bed in the wee hours of the night. Her breasts tightened in memory of the dream—or the reality—of his hands and mouth upon them.

  Had Simon known she would be here this week? Rowena wondered. She didn’t think Alice would plot to for
ce a reunion, but she could not be entirely sure. In all likelihood, Waverly’s advancing illness had prompted Simon’s return. Given the distance he’d traveled, it was likely a coincidence that they’d arrived at the estate on the same day.

  She sat down and took a sip of juice, but it did little to calm her. Her heart pitter-pattered like the wings of a canary. Carefully removing her gloves, she laid them in her lap. When she looked up, she found Simon’s gaze upon her again. His eyes appeared fixated on her fingers. Why? What could be so interesting to him in so simple a thing? Self-consciously, she lowered her hands into her lap.

  He removed his own gloves, exaggerating the movement, prolonging it. All the while, he watched her. She could only guess he imitated her. The leather slid over his tawny skin, caressing it, revealing his hands inch-by-inch.

  She released a breath. It was merely a glove, but somehow he had enraptured her with it.

  When Alice’s chair fell back as she tried to get up, Rowena remembered that they were not alone and that they were being incredibly impolite to the others. She tried to cover up her utter lack of attention. “Shall I get another plate of food for you, Alice?”

  “Oh, no please do not trouble yourself, Rowena. Simon, will you please bring me a glass of juice?”

  Though he could have had a servant bring it, Simon rushed to oblige her, bringing juice and a small plate for his sister. As he stepped away from the table, she could feel his eyes on her. Rowena tried not to blush, instead turning back to her plate and taking a bite of her eggs and toast.

  Delphine looked at her, giving her a brief once-over and smiling. This time, Rowena did feel her cheeks get hot. Had she and Simon been that obvious? Was everyone aware of the by-play?

  Simon was more successful at pretending nothing was amiss. He chatted amiably with Alice and Delphine, all the while sending her suggestive glances when the others were not looking.