Mesmerized

by Sahara Kelly

  He chuckled, and did something.

  He withdrew almost to the tip and then sank back in again, loving her sighs of pleasure.

  Slowly, easily, he moved, back and forth, slipping smoothly now into her slick body.

  His fingers kept time with his thrusts, and he started to lose the battle with his own body as his pace quickened.

  The feel of his balls as they slapped against her skin, coupled with the tight heat of her folds as they slid over his cock sent him into whirls of light and pleasure.

  He couldn’t hold back.

  Moving faster now, his fingers stroked and rubbed her clit, robbing her of her breath and sending the first shivers of her orgasm through her body.

  He felt each and every little twitch and spasm, and as her inner muscles began to clutch at him, he let go.

  He bit back a howl of ecstasy and buried himself as deep as he could go, filling her once more.

  Her body shuddered and shook around his, and he vaguely heard her cry out into the depths of her pillow.

  It was over far too soon. He could have stayed like this for at least a couple of lifetimes.

  But eventually her body slackened beneath his, and his thigh muscles started to cramp.

  With a sigh of regret he pulled from her, letting his now-exhausted cock slip from her relaxed and soaking cunt.

  He moved up beside her and pulled her into his arms, tugging the cover over the two of them.

  This was how he envisioned the rest of his life.

  Nestled together with Abby, both of them sweaty, sticky and sated from loving, and snuggled into a lump of boneless delight.

  Abby sighed and rubbed her head against his shoulder. “Philip. What am I going to do?”

  “About what, love?”

  “About…about everything.”

  Philip grinned. “Well, let me see. Napoleon’s defeated, so you don’t have to worry about that. Um…the Congress in Vienna is taking care of most of the European questions, so that’s all right, too…of course the Prince Regent could use some advice about his appalling love life…”

  Abby chuckled and bit his chest gently, licking the small marks left by her teeth. “You’re a dreadful tease, Philip Ashton.”

  “Yes. Aren’t I, though?” He was too content to protest.

  Abby sighed.

  “Tell me, love. Tell me what made you throw yourself at me when I clambered, at great personal risk I might add, over your windowsill.” Philip eased back a little, trying to see what he could of her face in the shadows.

  Abby was silent for a moment and then began to talk.

  She told him the story she’d learned that day, and her tale bore out all the information his sister Rachel had given him, over which he’d struggled ever since. He needed to find the key, the right way to help her overcome all her worries and fears and realize that loving him was the only thing she could possibly do.

  Philip listened quietly as her words painted all kinds of pictures for him. A picture of a lonely young girl hearing things about her mother that had no business soiling such tender ears.

  A picture of a child growing up with a fear rooted deep in her soul that she would turn into a woman capable of deserting her family.

  A picture of a daughter struggling to make herself a place within the less-than-affectionate hearts of her parents.

  He grimaced, putting the pictures together and finally understanding her fear of such a deep commitment as marriage.

  He pulled her closer and dropped a light kiss on her head as her voice trailed off at the end of her sad tale.

  Philip let the comfortable silence between them grow as he wondered how best to approach the situation. He knew, more than ever, that Abby was his. That they could share a wonderful life together.

  More than their bodies fit. Their minds fit. Their hearts fit. Their very souls were matched like identical peas in a pod.

  All he had to do was convince Abby.

  And that was going to take some careful thought.

  Chapter 11

  “Abby, how old are you?”

  Abby turned her head, surprised at the question. “I’m almost twenty-three. You knew that, didn’t you?”

  She felt his nod. “Yes. But did you?”

  She blinked. “I don’t understand.”

  Philip drew a breath, making her head rise a little as his chest expanded. “I’m twenty-nine, sweetheart. We’re both adults. Grown-ups. Neither of us is an innocent sheltered seventeen-year-old, going into an arranged marriage. We’ve lived, Abby.”

  He stroked her arm and she wanted to purr at the sensation.

  “You have a mind that can outthink many of the scientists I’ve met. I’ve spent most of my life buried in the country, ignoring my sister’s urging to find a bride. We were both looking for something, someone, that special person who could make us feel complete in so many more ways than this…”

  His leg slid between hers, melding them even closer. “Although this is good too,” he chuckled.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her with a quick kiss. “Let me finish, love. Your mother found herself in an impossible situation at an unconscionably young age. Do you think for a moment that if you’d been born after she married her Count whatever-his-name-is, she’d have ever given you up?”

  Abby thought back to her impressions of the elegant woman who she’d met for the first time that day. She recalled the warmth and pain in her mother’s eyes as she’d related her story to her daughter.

  “Um. No, I suppose not.”

  Philip’s leg moved upwards, slipping into the notch between her thighs and settling itself comfortably against her tender folds. He sighed again, and she couldn’t stop a little smile from crossing her lips at the sound.

  “That’s the difference, Abby. She ended up in a marriage where there was no love, no sharing, no caring. Not like us.”

  He smoothed her body once more. He seemed to enjoy stroking her, and God knew she wasn’t about to object.

  “We have everything your mother didn’t. We love each other, Abby.” He pulled back slightly. “You do love me, don’t you?”

  Abby thought about that question.

  Her mind was as full of him as her body. Her heart whispered to her that she’d never find another who matched her so perfectly. And then she asked herself what her life would be like if he went back to his country home and she never saw him again.

  The bolt of pain that idea sent through her made her shiver with its intensity. “Oh yes, Philip. I truly believe that I do love you.”

  “Well, damn, woman. Don’t ever make me wait so long for an answer to that question. I swear I could hear my hair turning gray.”

  His laughter made her smile.

  And that was the secret. He could make her laugh. He could make her body sing, her soul fly, and within moments bring the joy of a shared joke to her heart. She wanted to be with him, to share with him, to…yes, to love him, for the rest of her life.

  “I do love you. I’ve been so scared to love anyone…”

  Philip snorted. “I doubt that, Abby. You’ve been scared of the idea of marriage. Of bearing a child and then deserting it, the way you thought your mother had deserted you. As far as loving anyone goes, well…” He grunted in disdain. “You just hadn’t met the right man. Me.”

  Abby grinned. He was such a typical male in so many respects, and so unique in others. Perhaps that was why she loved him.

  A soft warmth spread through Abby as her fears fled before his words, and a weight lifted from her shoulders. One she never even realized she was carrying.

  “I suppose you’re right,” she agreed quietly. “I was so scared of being caught in a marriage with any one of the endless stream of buffoons Aunt Eugenia encouraged, and then meeting someone who could seduce me with a look, and…” She swallowed, trying to find the words.

  His arm tightened, giving her strength to go on. “And then leaving everything and everyone behind. Just like my
mother had done to me.”

  Tears stung her eyelids as she let it out.

  “Now you know she had no choice, Abby,” said Philip. “No choice at all. And much as I hate to speak ill of your father, it was an untenable situation. He should never have made those stipulations.”

  Abby swallowed back her emotions, and nodded. “I know. Although it doesn’t surprise me now. He has always been…distant, I suppose would be the best way to describe it. Fair, and attentive on occasions when he wasn’t involved in some experiment or other. But not really seeing me, if you know what I mean?”

  “How about your step-mother? Was she kind to you?”

  Abby considered the question. “Yes, all things considered, she was. She had no children of her own with Papa, and I think she genuinely cared about me. I was so young when they married, of course, that I knew no other mother. I only learned of these things as I grew old enough to ask questions about what I heard. I was told simply that my mother had died, and that Louisa was my mama now.”

  Abby thought back to her childhood years, remembering the soft, comfortable woman who had become Lady Foxworth. “She certainly did all that was appropriate in raising me. I had plenty of governesses, books, clothes, all the things I needed.”

  “Except for one, sweetheart.”

  She turned her head again and looked at him through the shadows.

  “You were missing out on love.”

  She wished she could see his eyes in the darkness and read the emotions she heard in his voice. They would flicker with heat and warmth and put her under his spell once more.

  She snorted to herself. As if she needed any help on that particular feeling.

  He cuddled her, stroking, soothing, murmuring how much he loved her and all the wonderful things they could spend the rest of their lives doing.

  And it would probably take that long, because the man certainly seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of wickedly wonderful suggestions.

  She squirmed as he breathed a particularly delicious thought into her ear. She blushed.

  “Philip. Is such a thing truly possible?”

  He laughed. “Abby, for us, all things are possible.”

  She couldn’t help an answering grin. “Oh good.” She spread her arms and hugged him, taking enormous comfort from the steady beat of his heart as it quietly thumped beneath her head.

  “But you’ll have to agree to marry me, first, of course.”

  She stilled.

  “Face facts, Abby. You’ve compromised me quite dreadfully. If you don’t make an honest man of me, what the devil will our children think?”

  “They’ll think…” She smiled. “They’ll think that their father is a wicked, wicked man who can’t keep his hands off their mother.”

  Philip’s arms tightened. “And they’ll be absolutely right.”

  “Or, they might just believe that I was mesmerized. And I was.”

  Philip yawned. “I never mesmerized you, darling. You mesmerized me.”

  She smiled and settled herself comfortably. She’d surrendered to love. A new life was starting for her. A life filled with laughter and joy.

  She’d been mesmerized all right. One glance had been all it took for her to know, deep in her heart, where her future lay.

  In Philip Ashton’s eyes.

  * * * * *

  In the dark corridors of Foxworth house, an elderly figure moved quietly away down the dimly lit passage to her suite of rooms.

  The murmur of voices had ceased behind the door to which she quite shamelessly had been pressing her ear. A grin curled her wrinkled lips, and her cane made little sound on the carpeted floor.

  The Dowager Countess of Wexford was pleased. Her granddaughter had finally found a man she could love.

  The wrongs of the past, for which she felt horribly responsible, were on their way to being righted.

  And if they kept that sort of behavior up, she might just live to dandle her first great-grandchild on her knee.

  Now, the most important question remained.

  What the devil was she going to wear to the wedding?

  About the author:

  Born and raised in England not far from Jane Austen's home, reading historical romances came naturally to Ms. Kelly, followed by writing them under the name of Sarah Fairchilde. Previously published by Zebra/Kensington, Ms. Kelly found a new love - romanticas! Happily married for almost twenty years, Sahara is thrilled to be part of the Ellora's Cave family of talented writers. She notes that her husband and teenage son are a bit stunned at her latest endeavor, but are learning to co-exist with the rather unusual assortment of reference books and sites!

  Sahara Kelly welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at P.O. Box 787, Hudson, Ohio 44236-0787.

  Also by Sahara Kelly:

  A Kink In Her Tails

  Guardians of Time 1: Alana’s Magic Lamp

  Guardians of Time 2: Finding The Zero-G Spot

  Hansell and Gretty

  Madam Charlie

  Mystic Visions

  Partners In Passion 1: Justin And Eleanor

  Persephone’s Wings

  Sizzle

  Tales of the Beau Monde 1: Inside Lady Miranda

  Tales of the Beau Monde 2: Miss Beatrice’s Bottom

  Tales of the Beau Monde 3: Lying With Louisa

  The Sun God’s Woman

  THE END

  Magic in the Works

  By Ashleigh Raine

  Dedication

  To J & A. Just because…

  To Briana and her Mark. For testing the validity of our keycard choreography.

  To Sahara and Jaci for sharing in all the fun.

  And to everyone who has been with us since day one. Thanks for remembering when…

  Chapter One

  Thursday

  The first thing Elaine Ridgley noticed about the man was his ass. Bending down to retrieve his belongings, his dark, expensive looking slacks outlined every luscious detail. While settling her luggage into the cab, she watched as he stood up and turned around, displaying an equally appealing package.

  What the hell am I doing? Elaine blushed. Listening to the voice in her head calling her a pervert, she tried to turn away. But her eyes weren’t listening. They continued their perusal, mentally exploring the possibilities that body offered. And oh the possibilities…

  Finally, her gaze wandered up to his face. Damn. The man was an all over hottie. She sighed. It was just her luck to find perfection in an airport—final destination unknown.

  Elaine started to close the door to her cab, ready to leave Mr. Delectable Ass behind, but his words to the clipboard wielding transportation director had her stopping her cabbie before he could speed off. “Hey, wait…I’ll share.”

  He grumbled. “Meter’s on, Ma’am.”

  Elaine opened the door. “You need a ride to the Royal Violet? Get in.”

  “Thanks.” Pleasant surprise crossed his face as he turned toward her. As their gazes met, his hazel eyes sparked appreciation and something else…was that interest? Damn. This man could so turn me into a drooling idiot.

  “Don’t mention it.” She slid over to the far side of the bench seat as he tossed his bags in the trunk and hopped in next to her.

  She watched him attempt to get comfortable and as he shifted and moved, the temperature in the cab went through the roof. Well at least it did in her cunt. Everything about this man just seemed good enough to eat. He turned to her with a smile, and she cursed herself as she quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed her stare. Note to self: quit spending your nights working and start spending them learning how to pick up hot men so you don’t come off as such a pathetic loser.

  Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice her ineptitude. “Long line out there today. I really appreciate you offering to share. I’ll get the ride. It’s the least I can do.”

  “You sure?” What can I offer you in return? My body? A night of reckless passion?
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  “I insist.” He graced her with another charming smile and then turned away, but she could’ve sworn he’d checked out her cleavage first. Damn. Why had she buttoned up her shirt so high this morning?

  The ride was quick. Too quick.

  He paid the cabbie and got out of the car, grabbing his stuff from the trunk. “Have a good evening and thanks again. Maybe I’ll see you later.” He grinned and nodded. The look in his eyes led her to believe he might have actually meant what he said.

  “Yeah. You, too.” I hope. Her words trailed after him but he was already stepping into the hotel.

  Just as quickly as he’d come into her life, he’d left again.

  It was probably better that way. She needed to focus on Greenlight and making sure it launched without a hitch. AdLive wasn’t sending her to the Creative Solutions trade show to get laid. That’s why she’d brought her vibrator. But maybe if she did see the hot man again later…

  Thank God for later. Not even a half hour had passed and there was Mr. Fine Ass fumbling with his room key…and his room was right across the hall from hers.

  Okay, all the signs were pointing for her to go for it. A casual weekend fling could get her out of her relationship slump. Hell, it wasn’t like she had time for more than that anyway. What the hell. Why not?

  “Here, slide it slower.” She drifted up behind him, placed her hand over his and grazed her breasts against his arm as she took his keycard. “You here for Creative Solutions, too?” Oh my God. Can my nipples get any harder? Slow down. Be seductive, not desperate…

  He turned his head toward her. Their faces were only inches apart. She let her gaze roam over his kissable lips, strong jaw, and up to his deep hazel eyes. Score! The look of lust. Maybe throwing myself at him just might work.

  “Yeah. It’s a pretty big show, huh? Maybe we can…ummm…stop by each other’s booths.” He cleared his throat as he lowered his arm, brushing his elbow down the curve of her breast as he did it.