by Emma Brady
“You need to work on your bedside manner.” Rex rubbed his chin with his palm. He tried to stand but wasn’t able to get up to his feet. “I think I have hurt my knee.”
“We need to get him into the house,” said Darla. “Can you get his left side while I get his right?”
Clayton was uncertain that she would be able to manage half of such a big man, but the lady was stronger than she looked. Between the two of them, they were able to drag Rex into the parlor and onto one of the sofas. All three of them were soaking wet and dripping on the newly cleaned carpet.
Rory came in as Clayton was starting a fire and Darla was ordering some tea from one of the servants.
“What happened?” She stood there, frozen with a perplexed expression.
“The weather caught us. It’s looking to be a pretty bad storm.”
Rex looked over at Clayton while he stoked the fire and tried to get up from the sofa, but he fell back into it with a grunt. Rex cursed out loud, making both the ladies in the room blush. Clayton could see the bloom of color on Rory’s cheeks even in the dim firelight.
“How badly are you injured?” Rory asked, ignoring the man’s rough behavior.
“It’s his knee. I think it might be twisted up pretty badly. He might need a doctor.”
“There is one in the village, but I don’t think you will make it in this storm.”
“Nonsense. We can fetch him after we return to the inn,” Rex said, but the way his face twisted in pain showed he was not going to be able to move much on his own.
“I’m not going to risk losing my entire work crew in this storm,” Rory said, her voice stern. “You will both stay here for the night. We can put Rex in the guest room, and Clayton can sleep in the parlor.”
Darla’s expression resembled a fish plucked from the water, her mouth flopping open and shut. Her eyes were wide and staring at Rory like she had gone mad. “What if people found out they were here?”
“There is no one to ask. We can’t send them out into this storm, hoping they make it to the village. If they don’t, I won’t have it on my conscience.”
“It’s not safe,” Darla insisted.
Rory tilted her head to the side and laughed. “They are men, not wild animals. I think we can trust they will behave during the night.”
Darla shot Rex a look that said she wasn’t as confident in that.
“If it will make you feel better, we can lock the doors to our rooms.”
“Excuse me, but I resent the implication that I would be sneaking into a lady’s room in the middle of the night.” Rex propped himself up on his elbows. “I have never entered one that I wasn’t invited into.”
“You will be getting no such invitations here,” Darla said.
“Good, it would be rude to reject a woman in her own house.”
“You scoundrel!”
The two of them appeared to be close to physical violence, so Clayton decided to step in.
“We agree to the locked doors and won’t be any trouble.” He gave Rex a look that made the man shut his mouth.
In truth, he felt more at ease knowing that she would be on the other side of a locked door. He wouldn’t want anything to happen that might cause the servants to talk. They might not be in London, but word traveled quickly.
Clayton helped Rex up the stairs and into the bed. He felt uneasy leaving his friend in there alone, but he really had no choice. The storm was only getting worse, and they both needed some sleep. After they said goodnight to Rex, the rest of them decided to turn in as well. He watched Rory go into her room, and then there was the click of the lock. He didn’t have time to think about the situation because he was exhausted and fell asleep almost immediately after lying down on the parlor sofa.
In the distance, Clayton heard the soft and sultry sound of Rory saying his name. It sounded like a melody when she said it over and over to a rhythm. The beat sounded like thumping, and he began to drift awake as it got louder. That’s when he realized that she was knocking on the doorway to the parlor and wouldn’t stop until he woke up. Trying to shake the sleep from his mind, Clayton replied with her name.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I wanted to make sure you were going to be able to sleep there tonight.”
From his place on the sofa he could see her standing in the doorway with one hand bunched in her skirts and a candle in the other. There were traces of crumbs on her dress and a redness around her eyes. Rory had been eating and crying, which was not a good sign. She would have only been doing that if she was deeply concerned.
“What is the weather like?” Clayton asked, hoping to ease her worries with logic.
“It’s still raining, with thunder and lightning. Not much has changed.”
“If it has been raining this entire time, most like the roads have become flooded. It’s a good thing that we decided not to travel in it.”
He could see some of the tension ease from her body. Clayton propped himself up on the sofa, making sure to keep the blanket high around his waist. He had been sleeping without a shirt on, and he was attempting to be modest around her. Then he motioned to an empty chair nearby. Relief washed across her expression, bringing with it the slightest smile.
“How are you feeling?” Rory asked as she took the seat and placed the candle on the small table beside the chair for light.
“Much better.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be so worried about a simple storm.”
“No, but I can understand why you might be. Storms can get out of hand and do a great deal of damage.”
The two of them fell into a silence that neither felt the need to break. Clayton enjoyed watching the way the light from the candle played across her face. It made all the delicate details more pronounced from the soft shape of her lips to the elegant arch of her brows. When she looked back at him, the flicker of light in the soft hazel color was mesmerizing. It reminded him of a hypnotist he saw once at a village bazaar. He could use the dancing flame to make people do all kinds of tricks. He felt under her spell now, wondering if she could make him do anything she wanted.
For her part, Rory seemed to be dozing off in the chair. He knew it must be late, and he wondered if she had slept at all since they had parted ways for the night. If not, she was probably as tired as he was. Perhaps she was too worried to sleep and needed to be reassured again that everything would be all right. Or she needed a distraction that might help her to find sleep.
“Did I ever tell you about the first storm I was in when I got to Africa?” Clayton asked, his tone smooth and soothing.
Rory perked up a bit in her seat. “No. Was it as bad as this?”
“Worse.” Clayton could laugh about it now, but back then he had been frightened for his life. “I was working at a diamond mine and we all had to sleep out in these tents. When the rain came down, it soaked through the cloth, getting everything inside it wet. That included me and the clay I was sleeping on.”
“That must have been terrible.”
“It was disgusting. I woke up so covered in in mud that I looked like my skin was red.” Clayton was laughing now. “The boss said I looked like a blue-eyed devil, and for a while the name stuck.”
Rory laughed and he was glad that he could ease her worries.
“That was actually when my mentor found me. He had come to the camp looking for a young man to serve as an apprentice and learn from him.” Clayton stopped laughing as he thought about his previous mentor. “The man changed my life and gave me a purpose.”
“When did he pass away?”
“About a year ago. How did you know?”
“My brother gets that same look when he talks about our parents. I assume I do too, but I’m never looking in the mirror at the time.”
Clayton could see the expression she was talking about, and she did have it after mentioning her parents. He wondered if he would get the same look if he talked about his brother.
“I will let you get to sleep now.” Rory
walked to the door and hesitated. “I’m sorry that I woke you.”
“I don’t mind.”
Clayton realized he wasn’t entirely honest only after he heard the click of the lock.
Chapter 14
IT WAS DIFFICULT TO sleep with the storm raging outside and her thoughts rattling inside. Rory just lay there, tossing and turning beneath the blankets, listening to the anger of the storm outside. The rain was constant, pelting the house in a steady rhythm. It should have been soothing, but it wasn’t. The thunder and lightning came in bursts, shaking the windows and lighting up the room even with the curtains. She found herself counting the seconds between the light and sound to pass the time.
“Stop being silly,” Rory said to herself as the last loud crack made her jolt. “You have slept through storms before.”
Only those had usually been in the safety of London. Out here, she had Clayton, sleeping down the hall.
“Reckless man.”
Rory’s heart had almost stopped when she saw them carrying Rex in tonight. He looked so hurt and weak, which could have easily been Clayton instead.
Now she was worried again and again craving something to eat. The nibbles were always there when she was concerned. Once she had felt the nibbles, she wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about them until she satisfied her hunger. She looked at the servants’ rope pull but decided against it. It was very late, and she didn’t want to wake them for her snack. She put on her robe and chose not to take a light as she slipped out of her room.
She went downstairs in the dark quietly. Every sound echoed in such a big house, and she didn’t want to wake Clayton. She had to walk past the salon to get to the kitchen, and in the distance, she could see the storm through the doors to the garden. Rory had never seen something like that before, and she found her feet traveling across the floor in that direction through the ballroom. She just wanted to get close enough to see the storm better. Inside the large space the sounds of the storms were enhanced, bouncing off the walls and splattering water against the glass. It was beautiful.
A gust of wind made a tree limb that was close to the garden scrape against the doors. Rory looked up and saw it moving with force just seconds before it broke off and came crashing down into the doors. Broken glass showered the floor, and the large branch fell to block her path to the rest of the house. She screamed as she felt the rain and wind swirling around her and realized she did not know how to get out of the ballroom now. There was glass everywhere, and she had no place to go.
“Rory, are you hurt?” Clayton appeared a few moments later, wearing trousers and shoes but no shirt. His hair was wild, and he was breathing heavily as if he had been running.
“Help,” she heard herself whimper. “Help me get out.”
She was shivering, the rain soaking her nightgown even as she tried to move out of its way. A piece of glass cut into her foot and she cried out. Clayton hopped over the limb and scooped her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She didn’t fight him, too scared to do anything but fall against his back. He was moving slower than expected and with shaky motions, but he didn’t drop her. He also didn’t put her down until they reached the stairway. Then he let her down gently and she winced when she felt the sting of her cut.
“What were you doing in there?” Clayton sounded angry, growling the words at her.
“I couldn’t sleep, so I came down to find something to eat.”
“That wasn’t the kitchen.”
“I wanted to see the storm.”
“You couldn’t find a safer room to watch it in? There would have been a good view from your room.”
How dare the man be chastising her as she stood there in wet nightclothes! “I have the right to go into my own ballroom. You’re the one who didn’t make sure the tree was trimmed properly.”
“So, you are blaming me?”
“Yes, I suppose I am.”
Even in the dark, his face looked menacing. He didn’t say anything but pointed in the direction of her room and followed her as she marched back into it.
“I’m going to leave now,” said Clayton. “Don’t forget to lock the door again on your way out, and stay inside this time.”
“It wasn’t really your fault,” she said, moving to stand beside the bed. “I shouldn’t have been out there. I’m sorry for saying otherwise.”
“You always say things before thinking, don’t you?”
“I have been told that I do.” More than once, by many people.
“What would happen if everyone did that?”
“Chaos, I suppose.”
“You don’t sound like you believe that.”
That was because she didn’t. Rory had never understood why so many people avoided saying what they meant just to maintain appearances. It seemed to lead to a lot of miscommunication.
“Do you want to know a secret to avoiding saying the wrong thing?” Clayton asked, his voice getting softer as his body moved closer to her.
Rory nodded vigorously.
“Lean in and I will tell you.”
She moved forward without moving her feet, closing the small gap between them.
“No, closer.”
She took a step forward and caught the scent of him.
“Not yet, a little more.”
Their faces were only inches apart, and she could see every fleck in his blue eyes. The man had unusually thick blond lashes to match his blond hair and she wondered why she hadn’t noticed before.
“What’s the secret?”
“Find something better to do with your mouth.”
His hand slid up her back to the base of her neck and pulled her closer. Their lips met, and this time she already knew what she wanted to do with them. He kissed her until she was breathless and dazed, then suddenly the warmth of his body was gone and he was moving away from her.
Each time lightning flashed across the sky, Rory caught a brief glimpse of Clayton in the dim light coming through the curtains.
It wasn’t enough. She wanted to see every detail of him. She didn’t protest when he moved to light the lamp on her bedside table. That proved to be a mistake, because now he glowed. That tanned skin shimmered from the rain, and his wet shirt clung to his muscled frame, creating delectable shadows. She knew she should look away, but she couldn’t.
His eyes were focused on her with intensity, and she looked down to realize how much of her was exposed. Crossing her arms over her chest didn’t help much, and she trembled from the cold. He looked away toward the door.
“Don’t go.” Her watery whisper caught his attention and pulled those blue eyes back to her.
He grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around her, then he used those big hands of his to rub her vigorously. The cold vanished and was replaced by a warm flush across her skin. As he stopped and stepped back, she grabbed his hand.
“Please stay just a little longer.”
His eyebrows drew together, but he didn’t let go of her hand. “Are you frightened?”
Rory was, but not of the storm. She was frightened by the wild thoughts she was having. Thoughts she knew she was going to act on no matter the consequences.
Shaking her head, Rory pulled his hand up to her mouth and kissed his fingers one by one. She watched as he closed his eyes and let out a low moan.
“Do you know what you are doing?” Clayton asked, his voice low and throaty.
Rory had no idea what she was doing, only what she wanted, and that was Clayton. She was tired of avoiding him to keep her feelings in line. Not even the risk to her reputation seemed important in that moment. The only thing that mattered was his touch, and she wanted more of it. As a response to his question, Rory let the blanket fall from her shoulders to reveal herself in nothing but a damp nightgown that hid very little. She nibbled on her lip as he stood there watching her.
“Damn it.”
Those were the last words he said before sweeping her into the bed. The man was quick and efficient in remo
ving his clothes, revealing so much of that sun-kissed skin to the lamplight.
When it came time to remove her clothes, his speed changed. She lay quiet, her breathing ragged as he undid the buttons at her neck and placed kisses along her collarbone. The only way she was allowed to help was when she moved to let him pull it up and over her head. Her skin prickled when she felt the cool night air, and she could see her nipples tighten. He noticed them as well and licked his lips.
Without giving her time to refuse, not that that she would have, he bent his head and began lapping those peaks with his tongue, first one and then the other. Back and forth he went until she was going mad. As he buried his face in her bosom, she could feel the abrasion of his beard on her skin. It felt good. When he looked up, there was a redness across her breasts that made her smile.
One of his hands moved between their bodies and parted her legs. He slipped his fingers into the folds at her opening, making her gasp when she felt how wet she was there. Clayton groaned but didn’t pull away. Instead, he began stroking her in a rhythm her body instantly responded to. She bit her lip, letting her hips move to ride his hand until she could feel the tension building inside her. Rory felt like she wanted to push him away but pull him closer at the same time. Clayton just watched her with his steady gaze as she struggled with the pleasure until there was finally a release. She shook beneath him while her body pulsated around his fingers. That’s when he finally kissed, her, devouring her moans with his hungry mouth.
“Want more?”
His words blew hot air against the bare skin of her neck, and he moved to position himself over her. His rigid length pressed against her exactly where she ached for him to be. There was no hesitation as she nodded. A quick thrust of his hips brought a brief stab of pain, then she could feel the fullness of him inside of her.
Rory had very little knowledge of what happened between a man and a woman, but her body responded on its own. As Clayton slid in and out, her hips began to match his motions, bringing him in as deep as possible. Her arms and legs were entangled around him, clinging to his hard body.