They’d formed a companionable bond. And while he believed it would help them be happy together, he never stopped hoping there could be more. Occasionally, he wondered if he ought to risk pulling her into his arms for a kiss. But then he’d worry that doing so might destroy what they had. And he truly loved what they had.
Hell. He loved her. And he would do anything – anything at all—to make sure she didn’t feel threatened by anyone ever again. Certainly not by him. So he kept his distance and did his best to hide the desire he felt for her. But it wasn’t easy when she was right there – his wife, for heaven’s sake – his to have if that was what he wanted. And he did want, but he wanted her to want as well.
“Your turn,” she said, her gorgeous blue eyes dazzling him with their brilliance.
He smiled and set his glass aside, then gave his attention to the task at hand. These moments they shared were special and he cherished each one. But tonight his heart felt oddly heavy, as if weighed down by defeat. And yet he still managed to laugh when she read her line, even though he rather felt like weeping.
If she sensed something wrong, she didn’t address it. Instead, she chatted about all sorts of curious things when he led her upstairs to her bedchamber later, from the correct density of whipped cream to her favorite embroidery technique to the need she felt for a longer handle on her pall-mall mallet.
“I’m sure one can be fashioned,” he said with a weary sigh when they reached her door. As usual, he stepped away so he wouldn’t be tempted to press his advances, and prepared to retire to his own room. “We can discuss it in the morning, Abby. For now, I shall bid you good night.”
“I…I rather thought…” Her voice quivered in the dimly lit hallway.
The caution with which she spoke, bordering on nervous anxiousness, pricked his awareness. His gaze sharpened and he looked at her – really looked at her for the first time since they’d left the library ten minutes earlier. And he saw that she looked as lost and uncertain as she had when they’d first been introduced.
Disconcerted, he reached for her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “Is something the matter?”
“No. No, I’m fine.”
But she didn’t really sound fine. In fact, she sounded as if she’d rather crawl under the carpet and hide. James frowned. What on earth was going on? She’d been perfectly normal before in the library, yet now…
“What is it then?” he asked more gruffly than he’d intended.
She licked her lips and he muttered a silent curse. If she would only refrain from being so bloody tempting and—
“I was wondering if you might like to spend some more time with me tonight.” She cleared her throat and dropped her gaze. “In my bedchamber, that is.”
James stood like a statue, utterly still and afraid to move. Although her face was averted and the only available light came from an oil lamp he carried, he could see her face had turned a bright shade of red.
“Are you suggesting…that is…what I mean to say…or rather, what I need to know, is um…” Christ! He’d no idea speaking could be so difficult. Least of all when he wasn’t sure how to obtain the information he needed without sounding crass or desperate.
She raised her chin just enough to meet his gaze with what had to be tremendous courage, considering the creased lines on her forehead, the way her teeth caught her lower lip, and the convulsive way she swallowed. To say she felt completely unmoored would probably be a tremendous understatement.
And yet in spite of this, she managed to say, “I know I’ve made life difficult for you, and I must have given you plenty of reason to second guess marrying me.”
“No, Abby. I—”
“Please. Let me finish.” She took a deep breath. “The weeks since our wedding have been the best weeks of my life. And you, James, have been wonderful. In truth, I doubt there’s another man in the world who would have been as understanding as you have been. You accepted me as I was and did your best to help me through the sort of experience that’s bound to leave scars.
“Before you and I were properly introduced, I always admired you from a distance. You were the handsomest man I’d ever seen. Just being in your presence reduced me to a blithering idiot.” She gave a low chuckle and he took the opportunity to squeeze her hand. “But I’ve gotten over that for the most part, and now that I know you better, I think it’s time to let you know my heart belongs to no one but you. I love you, James, with all that I am, and I’d like to be more than the woman who happens to sleep in the room next to yours. I want to—”
The restraint James had put on himself since their wedding finally snapped. Sweeping his arm around his wife’s waist, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her with all the pent-up need he possessed. He crushed her lips with his own and pressed his body to hers until he was sure she knew how eager he was to love her. God, how he’d longed for this moment. Looking back, he wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to keep his distance from her for this long. Not that it mattered. The only thing he cared about right now was that she was kissing him back, her fingers raking through his hair while soft, throaty murmurs escaped her.
“Abby…” He whispered her name as he hugged her close, the oil lamp swinging from his hand and causing the light to flicker. “I love you more than words can say.” His voice cracked with emotion and he placed a soft kiss on her cheek, forcing himself to think of her and not of his own desire. So he breathed her in, loving the scent of honey and chamomile in her hair, and asked the one question he knew could ruin what promised to be an incredible evening. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
There was a pause, during which he was certain his heart stopped beating. And then she said, “Yes. I’m sure. I want this, James.”
He was tempted to ravish her right then and there. Instead, he deliberately reined in his fervor and quietly led her into her bedchamber. There he set the oil lamp on top of a dresser and finally closed the door. How he approached this first time between them would likely determine how willing she’d be to let him bed her in the future. So he knew he had to be gentle. And he also knew he had to keep her mind focused on him and the pleasure he meant to give her.
With this in mind, he started by pushing a stray strand of hair away from her brow. His hand scraped her skin in the process, moved over her ear, and settled more fully against her cheek. “I love you,” he told her, then he kissed her again, this time with the sort of languor that suggested he had all the time in the world to explore her mouth with his own. And when he felt that the time was right, when she seemed relaxed and pliant in his arms, he kissed his way down the side of her neck and began unfastening her dress.
Abigail hadn’t known where this evening would lead when she and James left the library earlier, but somehow, before she’d reached the foot of the stairs, she’d realized the time had come for them to be husband and wife in truth. During the past six weeks, she’d forged a closer bond with him than she’d ever shared with anyone else. Day by day, her attachment to him had grown, as had her longing to connect with him on a deeper level.
And so she’d made her decision, and proceeded to speak of nonsensical things in an effort to focus on something besides her nerves. She couldn’t help the jitters tumbling through her even though she knew being shy and worried was silly. James knew her better than anyone and there was no doubt in her mind that he would be a considerate lover or that she’d enjoy the experience.
So it really shouldn’t have surprised her when every concern she’d had about how to address the subject of their lovemaking had been swept aside the moment he’d kissed her out in the hallway. It almost made her wish she’d told him she was open to his advances sooner.
His lips left hers and she uttered an unhappy whimper.
“Don’t worry,” he told her with a wry smile, “I’m just untying my cravat.”
She watched in mesmerized silence as he unwound the long length of fabric and tossed it aside. He met her gaze head on as he reached up to pus
h her gown down over her shoulders.
The garment fell to the floor with a whoosh that caused a surprised gasp to spring from her throat. James’s eyes smoldered with deep appreciation, and the edge of his mouth curved into a roguish smile. Abigail’s heart fluttered wildly against her breast.
“Seems to me I’m now overdressed,” James murmured and promptly shrugged off his jacket. Fire burned in the depths of his gaze as he shucked his waistcoat next.
Abigail stared. She’d never seen him with so few clothes on before, and the thought of soon watching him strip off the rest sent a thrill through her veins that heated her blood. “Perhaps if I take off my stays you’ll remove your shirt?”
His nostrils flared. “Turn around so I can untie you.”
She didn’t hesitate, and then she felt his fingers tickling the back of her neck as he unpinned her hair. A delicious series of shivers swept the length of her spine. It almost felt like his fingers trembled against her skin as he swept the fallen locks aside and went to work on the laces. Her stays fell to the floor; a bit of cool air came between her and James, followed by a low rustling sound. And then she felt him, his warm chest against her back, his bare arms caging her, and his lips kissing the curve of her shoulder.
Instinctively, she leaned back against him and savored the slow slide of his hands as he started exploring her body. The way he smelled, of spice, brandy, and a hint of sandalwood, was so heady she sighed with the pleasure of breathing the masculine scent. He answered with a low growl and began pulling her chemise up over her thighs.
“You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” he told her, then scraped her skin with his teeth in a way that caused hot desire to burn low in her belly. “Everything I need and all that I want.” Hands splayed so they touched as much of her body as possibly, he slid her chemise even higher, until she raised her arms and he was able to sweep it up over her head.
With aching slowness, he trailed one fingertip down the length of her back and over the curve of her bottom. She sucked in a breath when his hand fell away and was stunned to realize how desperate she was for a far more intimate touch.
“James,” was the only word she could manage, and even that sounded more like a breathy caress than actual speech.
His hands moved to her hips and as he turned her toward him, she barely managed to catch the hungry look in his eyes before his mouth was on hers. Somehow, he managed to deepen the kiss while removing his trousers and still keeping one hand firmly planted on her waist. He tasted incredible, of decadent pleasure and sinful adventure.
“I’ll make it good for you, Abby,” he promised as he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bed.
“You already are,” she whispered, feeling suddenly shy when he laid her down and took a moment to let his gaze sweep the length of her body.
She looked at him too, though only out of the corner of her eye since her curiosity embarrassed her slightly. And what she saw almost stole her breath, for his naked physique was the most magnificent thing she’d ever seen.
His chest, sculpted with peaks and valleys in all the right places, rose and fell in accordance with his breaths. “You can’t imagine how much I want you.” The chords at his throat seemed to strain, and when he reached down to cover her breast with his hand, she saw that the muscles in his arms were tense.
“I want you too,” she told him in earnest, her words filling the space between them with hungry anticipation.
An almost primal expression captured his features. “My god, Abby.” The utterance seemed to be torn from his throat as he climbed onto the bed beside her. “I don’t want to hurt you or frighten you, but I need you so damn much and I’ll try…I promise I’ll try to go slow but—”
“Shh…” Her hand found his cheek where unshaved bristles provided a curiously satisfying bit of abrasion. “Forget your concerns and just love me, James. That’s all I ask.”
So he did. Pressing soft kisses to every part of her body and caressing her with his hands, he stoked the fire of her need until she begged for more. And when she grew tense in response to their joining, he stopped to let her adjust, and then forced her attention away from the pain with a kiss that outdid the rest.
“I love you,” he said once again when they found a shared rhythm. Braced above her, he held her gaze with fierce intensity while taking her to some unexplored place she’d never before known existed.
A wonderful pressure comprised of tingling heat formed at her core, building and expanding until she gasped with the need for something she couldn’t explain. And then it exploded, flinging her body straight up to the stars and blinding her with a flash of bright light. “Oh god, James,” she shouted and opened her eyes to see that his head was flung back as he uttered a primitive growl.
Warm sparks of pleasure kept rippling through her for some time after, and then a relaxing languor filled her limbs.
James exhaled a series of breaths. “Christ, Abby.” He stared at her for a moment in wonder, then settled his mouth over hers for a tender kiss. Lowering himself to the spot beside her on the mattress, he rolled over onto his side and pulled her into his arms. “That,” he murmured against her ear, “was incredible.”
“I have to agree,” she said with a smile both on her lips and in her heart. “So incredible, in fact, that I think I might like to do it again as soon as possible.”
Grinning, he reached for her hand and wove his fingers together with hers. And as he did so, Abby knew the life they were going to have would be nothing short of spectacular. James had helped her vanquish her fears, and the love they now shared, based on friendship, trust, and mutual respect, was powerful enough to conquer the world.
Falling for Mr. Townsbridge
Preface
When William Townsbridge returns from Portugal and meets his mother’s new cook, it’s just a matter of time before he loses his heart completely. But is a shared future possible?
Chapter 1
Even though the London air was soaked with fine droplets of rain, it was still good to be home. Stepping down from the carriage, William Townsbridge paused to study the red brick townhouse with its white window casings. Beads of water gathered like dew drops upon his coat. A wry smile touched his lips. The delight he felt right now would most likely fade the moment he stepped through the front door and met his mother, Margaret, Viscountess Roxley.
As much as he loved her, he had no desire to be her marital project, which was part of the reason he kept on leaving. The last time he’d been home she’d kept on reminding him that his brothers had both married when they’d been six and twenty.
William had been one year younger than that at the time, but his mother had clearly believed it was time to prepare – for him to begin considering potential matches so he’d be ready to strike as soon as his next birthday came. It had passed with little fuss since he’d deliberately been away, working as the aide to the British ambassador in Lisbon. Before that, his father, Lord Roxley, had helped him travel to America with the excuse of exploring new investment opportunities.
Prepared for what was to come, William helped the coachman unload his luggage, paid the man, and went to knock on the door. He’d already made plans to go away again in a month to visit a friend’s holiday home in Florence. Until then, he’d simply grit his teeth and nod whenever some young lady’s name was mentioned, while savoring the bone deep knowledge that his mother meant well. She loved him and simply wanted him to find the kind of happiness she enjoyed with his father and which his brothers had also been lucky to find with their wives.
Grabbing the knocker, William gave the door three loud raps and grinned when his youngest sister, Athena, came to greet him instead of Simmons, the butler.
Athena’s eyes widened. A laugh escaped her. And then her arms were around his neck in a fierce hug. “You’re back. Oh thank heavens. Sarah and I have missed you dreadfully, William. She more than I, I’m sure. My goodness, she’ll be thrilled to have you home. You’ve no i
dea. No idea at all.”
An odd sense of foreboding crept under William’s skin. “What do you mean?”
Athena grabbed his arm and pulled him more fully into the foyer so they could shut the door. An exaggerated sigh of despair escaped her. And then she rolled her eyes. Although she was old enough now at the age of twenty for him to consider her a fully grown woman, her boisterous energy still made him think of her as a child.
“Mama is being impossible.”
The whispered piece of information was barely spoken before the door to the parlor opened and the lady herself appeared. She was followed by her husband and William’s other sister, Sarah. He met Sarah’s gaze and barely managed to give her a quick smile before he was swept into his mother’s arms.
“We’ve missed you,” she said.
“I’ve missed you too,” William told her loyally.
They broke apart just as Simmons made his appearance. “My apologies for not arriving sooner. It’s good to see you again, Mr. Townsbridge. Please, allow me to take your bags.”
“Thank you.” William handed over his things, greeted his father with a solid handshake and Sarah with another embrace.
“Come,” his mother said. “We’ll call for some tea and a snack to tide you over until dinner.”
“You’re in for a treat,” Athena said, traipsing behind as the family left the foyer. “Mama has hired a new cook. Mrs. Lamont is her name and everything she makes is utterly divine.”
William glanced at his father. Neither had ever cared much for food one way or the other. Eating was just a necessity – an inconvenience that got in the way of whatever else they’d rather be doing. And dinners always lasted ten times longer than William believed necessary.
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