Forever Mine

by Monica Burns

  “Of course,” he said quietly. “I’ll arrange for someone to take you to the station at first light to catch the early morning train.”

  “Thank you,” Eleanor said in a tight voice as she continued toward the doorway. One hand gripping the frame of the salon door as if her life depended on it, she glanced back over her shoulder at him. There was a look on her face that made him realize she was hoping he would stop her from leaving. When he didn’t move, she uttered a soft sob and fled the room.

  Guilt washed over him. It was clear he’d sent Eleanor mixed signals, and he’d hurt her in the process. Damnation, he was an insensitive bastard. Nicholas tossed the remainder of his cognac down his throat. He should have made it clear to Eleanor from the beginning that friendship was all there could ever be between them.

  Disgusted with his behavior, Nicholas limped out of the salon and made his way up the stairs. The ache in his leg seemed to have worsened as the evening wore on. He could only assume it was a forecast for a cold winter. In his bedchamber, a small blaze crackled in the fireplace, while an oil lamp at his bedside illuminated his room with its soft glow. Nicholas undressed then shrugged his night robe onto his shoulders and cinched the garment’s belt. Wearily, he sank into the fireside chair.

  The past three weeks had taken their toll, and he was afraid it was about to get worse. Eleanor’s suggestion that Victoria was an imposter made him realize just how precarious his position was where she was concerned. Victoria’s return and odd behavior would no doubt be just as problematic as her disappearance had been.

  Closing his eyes, Nicholas rubbed his forehead before gingerly stretching out his painful leg. Even the brandy he’d imbibed had failed to take the edge off the throbbing tenderness that had reverberated through the limb all evening. Without warning, the ten-year-old memory of the paper mill fire pushed its way into his thoughts.

  He drew in a sharp breath as the vivid recollection thrust him back to those last terrible moments in the mill. Flames crackled and popped like a live thing intent on devouring everything in its path. He’d managed to help several people toward the exit when Nicholas saw him. Eyes wide in his face, the boy met his gaze across a wide barrier of fire.

  The lad couldn’t have been more than twelve, and he was frozen with fear. The roar of the fire echoed in Nicholas’ ears as he jumped across fallen equipment and wood to find a way through the wall of flames separating him from the boy. Behind him he heard Roberts’ shout, but he ignored the man’s warning.

  Frantically, Nicholas jerked off his coat and covered his head as he prepared to leap through the growing flames to reach the boy. A loud crack echoed from above, and a split second later one of the roof’s triangular trusses knocked him to the ground and pinned his leg to the floor. A howl of pain ripped its way out of his throat. Trapped beneath the flaming piece of wood, Nicholas forced himself to sit up, but nausea made him fall backward as he saw bone jutting out of his lower leg in two places. Flames licked at his skin, and he desperately fought to remain conscious. Dazed, he looked for the boy. The lad was staring at him in horror.

  “Jump, boy. Now.”

  Nicholas urged the boy to run through the flames toward him with a wave of his hand. Their gazes locked, and the boy took a step forward when a loud crack split the air. Nicholas’ gaze jerk upward as the boy screamed in terror. In a split second, a large support beam silenced the boy’s shrill cry.

  Another shout erupted from Nicholas’ throat, this time it was a roar of rage. The next few moments were still a blur, but he remembered Roberts shouting his name. A moment later, the man had freed Nicholas’ leg from the narrowly constructed wood beam and dragged him out of the building. The quiet sound of his door opening jerked him out of the waking nightmare. He turned his head to see his valet entering the room.

  “Roberts, I thought I told you I wouldn’t need you this evening.”

  “You did, my lord,” the older man said with a fatherly smile as he displayed the small tin in his hands. “But, I’ve brought the salve for your leg as promised, my lord.”

  “Thank you, I won’t deny that I need it.” Nicholas winced as he straightened in his chair and glanced at his valet.

  The man had been no more fortunate than he had been that night at the paper mill. A sheet of flames had laid waste to the left side of the man’s face as he’d helped pull Nicholas to safety. They were both lucky to be alive, but it had been Roberts who’d ensured their survival. It was a debt he could never repay.

  “No doubt all the extra exercise hasn’t helped, my lord.”

  “Why do I have the feeling you’re chastising me?”

  “I would not presume to do such a thing, my lord.”

  “Of course, you wouldn’t,” Nicholas said dryly as he eyed his valet with a hint of amusement.

  “Would you like me to apply the ointment, my lord?”

  “No, I can do it myself.” Nicholas rejected the offer with a small wave of his hand. “Go on to bed, Roberts.”

  “Are you certain, my lord?”

  “Yes, I’ll sit by the fire for a little while. Between the salve and the fire’s heat, the leg will be much better in the morning.”

  “Very well, my lord. Good night.” With a nod, the valet left the room.

  Nicholas shifted slightly in his seat, and drew in a hiss of air as the movement sent pain shooting up his leg. Tugging his robe away from his leg, he stared down at the scarred tissue on his calf. With a grunt of discomfort, he shifted his leg and liberally applied the special salve Roberts had concocted for him years ago. In moments, the liniment eased his pain as it melted down into the muscles beneath the ugly scars that ran from his ankle almost to his knee. Using the towel Roberts had set out on the side table, he cleaned his hands then leaned back in his chair and stretched his leg out to capture the added heat of the fire. Nicholas closed his eyes again in an effort to quiet his racing thoughts. Slowly, the throbbing in his leg subsided and his thoughts slowed and he dozed off.

  § § §

  A scream echoed loudly in his dream, and he jerked upright in his chair. The fire in the hearth in front of him had burnt down to embers, and he berated himself for having fallen asleep in the chair. The night’s stillness embraced him, and he rose to his feet. Cautiously applying weight to his leg, he was relieved to find the salve and fire’s warmth had eased much of his pain. The silence was suddenly shattered by a scream from Victoria’s room. Fully awake now, he quickly limped his way through the connecting doors and into his wife’s bedchamber.

  The small fire in the fireplace created dancing shadows on the bedchamber walls. In the dim lighting, Nicholas saw Victoria writhing beneath her sheets. Fear punctuated her soft moans, and he moved quickly to her bedside. Suddenly, she flung her arms outward and violently clawed at something only she could see.

  “No. Stop.” The raw panic in her voice ended on a sob of horror. Despite all that had passed between them in the past, Nicholas didn’t like seeing her suffer. He slowly sat down on the edge of the mattress and tried to soothe her.

  “Shhh, Victoria. Everything is all right. I’ll not let anyone harm you. You’re safe here. You’re safe with me.”

  Gently, he brushed his fingers across her brow in a soft caress. She jerked against his touch and whimpered with fear. An urgent need to protect her from the demons haunting her sleep made him stretch out his body beside her. Warning shots fired in the back of his brain as he brushed his mouth against her silky hair.

  “You’re safe, Victoria,” he murmured. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m here now.”

  Nicholas continued to whisper soothing words of reassurance, and relief swept through him as her nightmare ebbed away. Gently, he wiped away the tears on her cheek and stroked her forehead until she was sleeping quietly in his arms. When had he ever seen his wife so vulnerable? He hadn’t.

  Victoria shifted unexpectedly, and her soft form suddenly snuggled into his side like a sleek kitten. One cheek burrowing into his shoulde
r, her arm slid around his waist as though clutching a pillow. Startled, he realized his wife was naked beneath the soft muslin sheets. The Vickie he knew found the habit of sleeping in the nude common and revolting.

  Despite his shock, his body instantly responded to the soft body pressing into his. The tangy scent of lemons in her hair filled his nose. In the two years they’d been married, he’d not bedded a woman, including his wife. Now, here she was naked and pressed into him as if she belonged in his arms. His mouth grew dry as he remembered the way she’d responded to him earlier in the day.

  Soft and pliant in his arms, she’d been eager for his touch. She’d not uttered a single protest, but had responded to him with an abandon that had incited him to explore as much of her as he could. The image of his tongue flicking and swirling around the tip of her breast tugged a small groan from him as he experienced the intense craving to repeat the action. Heightening that longing was the memory of how she’d caressed him through his trousers. In a split second, his cock was hard with need.

  Without thinking, his fingers traced a path from her shoulder down to the full curve of the breast that was pressed into his chest. Almost as if she understood in her sleep what he wanted, her body shifted in his arms and exposed a lovely breast. His fingers trailed across her skin to the nipple that grew stiff as he caressed her.

  Victoria murmured something unintelligible and rolled onto her back. The sheet fell down to her waist, and his throat closed as he experienced a rush of desire he’d not experienced in a very long time. Another soft sound passed Victoria’s lips as her eyes fluttered open. Sleepily, she stared up at him then reached out to caress his face.

  “Nicholas?” she whispered.

  “You had a nightmare,” he choked out as a burning need hardened every one of his muscles. God help him but she was lovelier than he’d ever seen her.

  “I did?” she frowned before a sleepy smile curved her lips. “You came to make sure I was safe.”

  “Yes,” he rasped as he lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers.

  A soft sigh escaped her, and she arched her body up against his as she sought to deepen their kiss. Her hands pushed their way past his robe to run over his chest. The touch set off a chain reaction of lust and desire that made him tug the sheet away from her body.

  His mouth left hers and he worked his way downward until he could suckle her breast with unrestrained pleasure. She whimpered as he tugged at a rigid nipple with his teeth then turned his attention to her other breast. With each flick of his tongue, she pushed her body upward against his in a wanton display of desire.

  Lost in the sweet, fresh scent of her, Nicholas’ brain stopped functioning as she pushed his robe off his shoulders. The garment fell away until her smooth, silky skin pressed into his. The moment her hand slid between them and grasped his erection, he shuddered and released a low groan. His hips rocked against her hand, and she applied just the right amount of pressure on his cock that blinded him to everything but the pleasure she was giving him.

  Slowly, he slid his hand up a lush, rounded thigh, and her legs parted slightly to give him access to what he was seeking. The moment his thumb rubbed the plump piece of flesh just above the rim of her core, a soft cry parted her lips, and her hips jerked up off the bed.

  “Nicholas, please….” The desperate plea in her voice was accompanied by her hand tightening around his erection and pumping him in an almost painful, but immensely pleasurable fashion. God help him, he wasn’t going to last much longer. His body slid over hers until his cock was brushing against her sex.

  “For the love of God, Nicholas, please. I need you inside me.”

  Her quiet appeal was like being doused in ice water. What the fuck was he doing? He knew better than to make love to his wife or any other woman. If he were responsible for…he didn’t finish the thought. A dark growl of self-disgust erupted from his throat as he jerked away from her. In the dark, his hands scratched desperately across the sheets to find his robe. The garment in hand, he stumbled out of bed to cover himself in jerky movements. His groin shouted its objection, but he ignored the painful ache.

  “Nicholas,” the embarrassment in her voice made him stiffen. “I’m sorry… I…we’re not even married.”

  “A topic of some debate,” he bit out as he glanced over his shoulder at her, willing his cock to stop protesting the denial of release.

  “I…I was sleepy…”

  “I took advantage of you.”

  “No, you didn’t,” she said quietly, and he knew she was now fully awake. “It was my fault, but it just felt so…right.”

  Her words slammed into him like a sledgehammer. It was the truth, and he didn’t understand how or why such a sensation was possible. He’d gotten lost in her curves, her smooth skin, and soft lips. Everything about her was intoxicating, and he didn’t understand how he could have lost control like that with her. Vickie had stirred his lust, but this had been different.

  This had been a hunger not only to possess, but to be complete. Nicholas quickly suppressed a snarl of self-loathing. He was imagining things. Tonight was simply a reminder he’d been celibate for a long time, and what he needed was a good fuck. The relief he needed could only be achieved with his own hand.

  “Go back to sleep, Victoria,” he bit out harshly as he headed toward the short hallway connecting their rooms.

  Not waiting for a response, he closed her door behind him and returned to his room. With a vicious swing of his arm, he slammed his bedroom door shut. Nicholas pressed his back into the wood door as if his soul would perish if he moved. His gaze focused on the brass doorknob just below his hip. With just one twist, the door would open, and he could go back to claim what Victoria had so willingly offered to him. Eyes closed, he dragged in a deep breath. The scent of her was still on him. It was like an intoxicating drug that tested every last bit of will power he possessed not to go back to her. Christ Jesus, he needed to forget what had happened.

  Unable to help himself, he remembered the soft, lush feel of her body. The dangerous thought came at a price as his cock hardened and demanded its release. In his mind, he envisioned the look of passion he’d seen on Victoria’s face as he pumped his flesh with hard, fast strokes. The memory of her needy cries made his blood flow hot and with a restrained cry of release he spilled his seed.

  Slowly he pushed himself away from the door and crossed the room to pick up the towel Roberts had left him earlier. God help him, but he’d almost lost all reason a few moments ago. He’d never been so out of control in his life. What happened in Victoria’s bedroom moments ago was something that threatened to consume him even now.

  Nicholas moved to his bed and slid beneath the cold covers. For a long time, he stared up at the ceiling trying to make sense of the current state of affairs. His eyelids drooped, and the last thing he saw before sleep claimed him was a seductive sapphire gaze and a body made for lovemaking.

  Chapter 9

  The thud of the door closing behind Nicholas echoed softly through the air, and Victoria closed her eyes in humiliation. Dear God, what had she been thinking to offer herself to him like that? Victoria sat up in bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. She was an idiot. The man was married. No. He’s a widower. The emphatic thought made her groan.

  How could she possibly know her look-alike was dead? A familiar pounding took root in her head. Victoria rubbed her temple, her fingers grazing over her wound. The cut stung at her touch, and she winced. Before she’d gone to bed, she’d examined her head. Like Charles Barrows had pointed out before dinner, in addition to a cut, there was a small knot and a sizable bruise on her head. The cut wasn’t deep, but it hurt like hell at the moment. Had she hit her head on something?

  The pain intensified, and she sat as still as possible in the hope that not moving would make the headache go away. As the throbbing eased slightly, she exhaled a slow breath. Whatever had happened, she was fairly certain she’d been knocked unconscious. Her headache
s and injury were strong evidence of that. The question still to be answered was what had happened to the countess? Had the woman hit her head on something and died, then by some bizarre twist of fate, Victoria had taken her place? Did that mean she was dead in the future? The horrifying thought intensified her headache, and Victoria gasped at the stabbing rhythm shooting through her temple.

  The vicious pounding drowned out everything else, and she wrapped her hands around the back of her neck then pressed her forehead into her knees. Nothing. She had to think of absolutely nothing. As she cleared her mind of all questions, the pain diminished to a dull throb. Obviously, asking questions meant bad headaches. Maybe she was just supposed to accept her fate. That wasn’t an appealing thought at all. She’d been quite happy in her own time period. Victoria snorted softly. She was kidding herself. Her trip to England was the first vacation she’d had in forever and look how good that was turning out. She closed her eyes in frustration. The worst of it was that she knew the only thing she had to go home to was a dead-end job, an empty house, and the regret.

  Regret. Funny how one couldn’t escape one’s mistakes even in the past. A tear slid down her cheek as she remembered the way she’d stormed out of the house more than a year ago. Her dad and she were always at loggerheads. But she’d loved him dearly. They were just too much alike…had been too much alike. When she’d lost him, she’d been completely alone. If she’d only been able to tell him she was sorry. Slowly, Victoria laid back into the mattress and pulled the covers over her cold body. Curled up in a ball, she realized she didn’t have anything in the future to go home to, and she didn’t have anything or anyone in the past either. She’d never felt so lonely in her entire life.

  § § §

  Laughter floated out the front door of Brentwood Park Manor. Victoria, who was the first one outside, turned and saw Nicholas and his guests descending the marble steps.