All You Could Ask For

by Angeline Fortin

“Happy Christmas, lass,” he returned, bussing her cheek noisily. She giggled and squirmed in his arms. “Sweet dreams.”

  He watched the nanny herd them away. They were stealing his heart, each one of them. An instant family would be his if he managed to convince their mother to put her fierce determination to be independent aside and accept a man in her life. In an instant, he’d have everything he’d never known he always wanted.

  “Ellis talked your ear off again,” Prim said with a laughter in her voice when they were alone. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” he said, turning back to her. “I’ll have to get used to it, right?”

  Prim cocked her head to the side, her eyes curious. “Why?”

  James toyed with the ring in his pocket. Should he go ahead and ask her? At least he’d be prepared for her rejection after that remark. He hadn’t gotten the impression that she’d swayed in the slightest from her firm disinterest in remarrying. How had he thought he could change the opinion of such a strong-minded woman?

  More persuasion was all he needed. He’d work on that tonight. But a glance at the clock showed him the hour was too early for them to sneak off to his house. The time needed to be passed with something mundane enough to squash the desire humming in his veins.

  “Had a telegram from Scotland this morning,” he said, pouring himself a glass of Scotch from the decanter Prim had set out for him.

  “Christmas greetings?”

  He held up an empty glass in question. She nodded and he filled it also.

  “Nay, but good news. I had a telegram this afternoon from my brother Francis.” James carried both glasses back to the settee she’d dropped into and sat beside her. He handed one off and lifted his in toast. “I’ve a new niece today. My brother Colin’s wife, Ilona, delivered her early this morning.”

  “How wonderful.” Prim tapped her glass against his. “Do they have a name for her yet?”

  “Francis didn’t mention it but did say she’s as bonny as her mother.”

  She cocked her head to the side. The habit so endearing. “Is she? Is Ilona pretty?”

  “Lovely,” he admitted. “With blond hair and bright blue eyes. She’s always smiling. Honestly, she’s the most singularly sunny and kind person I’ve ever known.”

  * * *

  Prim knew a moment of envy as James spoke of his sister-in-law. His demeanor so soft and genuine, she imagined he was half in love with her himself.

  “You’d like her. Everyone does.” He sipped his drink, then grinned. “That makes eleven nieces and nephews. Fiona’s in the spring will round it out to a neat dozen. And you didn’t think I had any experience with children.”

  He sent her a playful wink and Prim couldn’t help but smile back. “I stand corrected. It seems you do, in fact, know everything.”

  James chuckled, lifting his glass again, but his amusement slipped away. “Sometimes it’s easier not knowing everything. I had a chance to study the rest of those files you sent over.” He offered a regretful wince. “I hate to say it, lass, but there’s something wrong there.”

  Her sad sigh filled the quiet room. “I’d thought so. I’d just hoped you might see something different.”

  “I’m sorry.” His sincerity was obvious. He’d known the betrayal evidenced in those records would cause her grief and had tried hard to cushion the blow. “There’s clearly been an outlay of cash that can’t be accounted for. Someone’s been siphoning money from you. Declan—”

  Prim held up her hand. “No.” Then more firmly. “No, I can’t believe Declan would ever do anything to hurt his grandchildren.”

  “Times are tough,” he allowed. “Even some of the most brilliant business minds in the country have lost fortunes. Banks go under every day. Maybe he did it to keep his afloat. I don’t know. Having you marry Leachman, having someone he trusted keeping your books, was his best bet on keeping you from finding out. They’re in it together, I’d wager. You’ll need to say something. Call the authorities.”

  He was right. It would do no good to continue to deny it. “I know,” she mourned. “I just can’t believe it. The children will be heartbroken.”

  “Better than bankrupt. I could help out, if you need it.”

  “Thank you, but I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Our personal accounts are solvent. This is a tragic blow but not a devastating one.”

  “Come here.” James opened his arms and drew Prim into his embrace. “I hate to see you hurt so.”

  He tilted her chin up, settling his mouth over hers. Giving comfort, solace. She clung to him, relaxing against him with a contented sigh.

  “You’ve been so wonderful to me, Jamie. All of this goes far beyond the bargain we made.”

  “I don’t care about the bargain, lass,” he murmured. “I only care about you.”

  His words were so sincere, they sounded more like a profession than a balm to provide comfort. Though her heart leapt, Prim sternly reminded herself he meant nothing of the sort. He cared, yes, but he was a man of deep caring. He wasn’t the sort to let a friend down.

  They were that if nothing else. But Prim didn’t want it to end there. Or ever. She wanted him in her life as he was in her heart.

  If she couldn’t have that, she would have him in her bed.

  Laughing inwardly at the thought, Prim marveled at how far she’d some in such a short amount of time. From not being able to say boo to a ghost to standing up for herself, her rights. The thought of taking a lover would have appalled her a month ago.

  But when that lover was James MacKintosh…

  Well, she was discovering there was a lot of satisfaction in bucking the rules every now and then.

  Returning her lips to his, she let the desire she had for him flow over her. Pour into him. Sliding her arms inside his suit coat, she hugged him tightly until she was pressed against him from breast to hip. His arousal stirred against her belly, and he murmured approval against her lips. His hands slipped downward, cupping her bottom and lifting her more firmly against him.

  Yes, the rules were for fools.

  “Will you take me to bed, Jamie?” she whispered.

  “With pleasure.”

  Chapter 28

  The demand for equal rights in every vocation of life is just and fair; but, after all, the most vital right is the right to love and to be loved.

  ~ Emma Goldman

  “No regrets?”

  “I thought we thoroughly exhausted this topic.”

  James grinned, his white teeth flashing in the dim light. His hand encircled hers, tugging her through the darkened kitchen of the Preston mansion and up a narrow set of stairs.

  “So we have.”

  She might have shed all regrets, but Prim did have her fair share of trepidation. It quaked within her knees and ankles with each step they took to James’s suite of rooms. Her fear wasn’t for what Mrs. Preston might think if she spotted Prim there or even for the sensibilities of his staff.

  No, her nervousness was reserved for what lie ahead. He was, by all accounts, a man of profound experience. During their brief passionate encounters, she’d hardly been in the state of mind to consider what came next. She’d had plenty of time to think about it on the brief carriage ride from her house to his. She might have a decade of marriage under her belt, but she knew from gossip whispered behind screens in a hundred ladies’ retiring rooms that her knowledge was limited. Prim feared he might be disappointed in her lack of practical expertise, as it were.

  Worse than that, hers was a body laid to waste by five pregnancies, though one of those hadn’t gone to term and another had resulted in a stillborn boy. Her breasts weren’t all they’d once been, her belly bore rippling vertical stretchmarks from hip to hip. She worried over his reaction as she didn’t think James would be a man to engage in sexual relations beneath the covers and in a darkened room.

  She wanted to please him as he’d pleased her.

  He paused in front of one of the doors, only long enough to
wrap his muscular arms around her, kissing her as if he couldn’t bear to wait the few more seconds until they were in the room. He swept her off her feet as he opened the door and turned in, still carrying her against the length of him. The room was dimly lit by a low fire burning in the screened fireplace.

  Her bodice loosened and sagged down, off her shoulders. James had been working the buttons along the back without her being aware. His mouth moved downward, licking, sucking. His teeth raked over the side of her neck and down her shoulder. Prim’s head fell back. She clung to him, helpless against the rapture sweeping over her to do anything else.

  No, she must try. Bold. Daring. Her hands slid over his shoulders and down his shirtfront to work his tie. James grumbled deep in his throat and pushed her hands away. Her dress fell to her waist, but after freeing her arms, Prim set back to work.

  “Nay, lass.” He pulled her hands away once more.

  “But, Jamie—”

  He lifted his head, his green eyes smoldering down on her. His brogue so thick she could hardly understand him when he spoke. “I understand ye want equality in all things, lass. And I’m more than willing to let ye hae them, but later. Aye? Me first. Then ye can hae yers.”

  A spike of disappointment pricked at Prim’s growing ardor. Despite the pleasure he’d heaped on her before, he was a man like any other. In the bedchamber, his pleasure would be first on his mind. She should have expected it, but James had never shown himself to be like other men.

  Having liberated her of her dress, James untied her single petticoat and let it pool around her feet. He carried her to the bed and lay her on top the covers before dropping down over her.

  Bracing himself on his forearms, he kissed her again, vanquishing her dismay. Come what may, she already enjoyed this more than any encounter with her husband. Besides, she had grown so used to the aftermath of physical frustration with Fletcher, she’d almost missed it over the last year.

  James’s lips drifted downward once again, his panting breath hot against her bosom as he nudged down her camisole. A wild cry burst from her when his lips closed over her nipple. Prim arched against him, curling her fingers into his shaggy hair to hold him close. He suckled hard, sending shots of electricity down her every limb and shocked, she tried to tug him away.

  He chuckled against her, his exhale hardening her wet nipple even more. “Conflicted, lass? Is it to be aye or nay then?”

  How could he find humor in a moment like this? Prim tensed, his tongue circling lightly before withdrawing.

  “Aye?” His tongue teased again, her body bowed against him. Again, he left her aching. Prim collapsed beneath him, panting desperately. “Or nay?”

  “Jamie,” she moaned, unable to bear the longing washing over her. She tugged at his hair, her hips arching against him of their own accord.

  “Och, lass,” his throaty whisper was coarse with desire. “Ye are driving me mad.”

  He tugged down her drawers, his rough hands running over her bare hips and up between her thighs. Her sensitive flesh quivered under his caress. He slid his palms under her bottom and shifted between her thighs. For the first time ever, Prim relaxed, ready to welcome the male invasion.

  But he didn’t. James shifted down, unhooking her corset cover. His fingers loosened the ties beneath as his lips found a spot of bare flesh below. As if distracted, he left the ties half done, and Prim shivered as his palms stroked over her hips once more. His breath tickling at the apex of her thighs was her only warning before his tongue swept along the damp folds.

  “J-Jamie,” she wailed, pulling at his hair.

  Harder flesh joined his tongue, his calloused fingers parting her. Prim quivered at the flood of rapture heating her core. Again his tongue lapped, then circled. Her quivers turned to tremors radiating down her thighs. It was delicious and carnal. Torn, she pushed at him with one hand while tugging him closer with the other.

  His laughter glided over her, a silken caress, and another moan ripped its way from deep within her.

  “I ken yer as contrary a lass as there ever was, but which is it to be? Aye?” He sucked on the hardened nub at the center of her pleasure, flicking at it with the tip of his tongue before leaving her bereft. He glanced up at her and cocked his head, his eyes glittering with humor. “Or nay?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, then louder. “Yes! Jamie, please.”

  His amusement fled, with one last fierce look, he accommodated her plea. His mouth ravished, giving no quarter as he aroused her to the point of delirium. She strained against him, his hot tongue plunging and withdrawing. Circling and sucking. Her entire body tingled, almost numbed but for the ecstasy turning her inside out.

  She was on the brink of losing control, losing herself. She didn’t want that, she didn’t want to lose control. But oh, yes, she did. Because it was Jamie. Only Jamie. Tensed, bowed wantonly against his zealous tongue, Prim broke when his finger slid into her.

  A fragmented sob shook her as Jamie continued to wreak havoc on her body. Waves of rhapsodic bliss assaulted her, rippling unforgivingly through her limbs from the aching pulse at her core. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, and she pressed the heels of her hands to them.

  The euphoria he’d somehow managed to wring from her was astounding.

  Light kisses trailed down her thigh as James pushed away. Peeking between her fingers, she watched him move to a gaslight sconce and turn it on. The shadows fell away, leaving Prim exposed as if she were in the spotlight. Covering her eyes again, she drew up her legs and turned away from him, wishing she were under the covers instead of on top of them.

  “Nay, lass. Dinnae.” His rough palm smoothed over her bare bottom, turning her back toward him. “Let me see you.”

  James tugged at his clothes. His collar flung over one shoulder, his tie over the other. He ripped his shirt open, shrugged it off. Prim dropped her hands as he bared his chest.

  Every dip and turn of his muscles appeared as if they’d been notched out of granite. They might have been hard as stone but for the muscles jumping in his chest as he loosened the front of his trousers. A light sprinkling of dark hair fanned out, thickening and narrowing as it went downward. His stomach stamped out in eight bulging blocks, his hips carved with arching muscle.

  James paused, his trousers hanging low on his hips, where the muscle appeared to have been carved out. It arched down the sides of his abdomen before disappearing behind the cloth. She didn’t even know muscle could do that. Bulge like that. Prim couldn’t help but gawk.

  “Such surprise on your face, lass,” he teased huskily. “Surely you’ve seen a man’s chest before.”

  Prim nodded, shook her head, then nodded again. Three brothers and a husband, yet she’d never seen a chest like that. The sight thrilled her, that coiled heat tightening again in her belly.

  The trousers slipped lower and she held her breath. He slid them down farther, his engorged member set free as they dropped past his thick thighs to the ground. His big hand slid down his belly and back up the turgid length. Prim hardly recognized the animalistic groan that filled the room as coming from her.

  “Ye like what ye see, lass?”

  Closing her eyes in despair, hot humiliation washed over her. Must he talk? Now?

  “Lass?”

  She opened her eyes again when the bed dipped. James had one knee on the mattress, most every inch of him within reach. Unable to stop herself, she nodded.

  “Do ye want it? Do ye want me?”

  Nodding again, she saw her finger stroking over the rounded end of his erection before she even processed the urge to touch him. His eyes fluttered, a low rumble coming from deep within his chest as his member jerked beneath her fingertip.

  “I want ye, lass. I want to come deep inside ye.”

  “Then do it already and stop talking about it.”

  She couldn’t believe she’d said that, neither could James judging by the shock on his face. Then they were both laughing. Chest still heaving with
amusement, James rounded the bed and opened a drawer on his nightstand.

  “Ah, bonny lass, will I never uncover all yer layers?”

  Since she’d never known laughter had a place in the bedroom, nor had she imagined it could hold such delight, Prim wondered if she’d ever stop learning new things from him but refrained from saying so. Instead, she watched as he withdrew something from a silken bag. A moment later, he was slipping a rubber condom down his thick erection. The sight of him, his hand around that compelling hardness, swept away any lingering humor.

  A faint shudder shocked her as she imagined helping him, stroking him as she rolled it down. Would he find it as erotic as she? Prim might be experiencing some bravado tonight but not so much yet.

  She did help him finish unlacing her corset, lifting her body so he could pull it from under her. Lifting again as he pulled her camisole over her head.

  Another lesson was learned when he stretched his big body out over her. The sensation of flesh against flesh, of steel against softness, of arms surrounding a naked body, was unlike anything else in the world. James rocked against her with a groan of appreciation. The tantalizing friction arousing her anew.

  His hand slid between them, circling her weeping flesh. Dipping a finger within, he drew more liquid, sweeping another circle around them, up and over her still throbbing nub. A shaking cry escaped her. His mouth took hers tenderly but Prim could sense his triumph. Around he went again, amplifying the tremor of lust expanding deep inside her.

  “If you’re thinking of playing the yea or nay game again,” she murmured gruffly, running her hands down his back, “I’ll just cut to the chase and say aye.”

  His shoulders shook silently. “Ah, what a bonny lass ye are.”

  His lips returned to hers, forbidding any reply. With a long stroke of his palm down each of her thighs, he urged her to wrap her legs around him. Through the silk of her stockings, the steel of his thighs and hips against her plump thighs was an exhilarating caress. Prim slid the arch of her foot down his calf, glorying in the feel of him. His stiff flesh nudged against her core, seeking entrance.