‘Yes. She’s three years old now and was one of the very first foals of my own breeding to be born here.’
‘What is her name?’
‘Whatever you would like it to be. If you like her, she’s yours.’ Her gasp of pleasure kindled a warm glow inside him. ‘I thought how well she’d suit you when you told me about Pippin. She’s already backed and we were about to start schooling her to a side-saddle. Would you like to help?’
‘Oh! I’d love to.’ Jane turned to him, her hands clasped in front of her chest, beaming. ‘Thank you.’
The bright joy in her eyes drew him in and, without volition, he clasped her shoulders and pulled her close for a kiss. An unaccustomed emotion settled over him like a warm blanket and it took him a moment or two to identify it as contentment—surprising him. He’d always been self-sufficient, but now he wondered if his life had been missing something all along. Something he hadn’t even known he needed. He’d always thought having Foxbourne was enough—the opportunity to take complete control if Father deemed him responsible had been the lure that saved him from the path of self-destruction in his youth. It had been a struggle to change his life but, despite a few hiccoughs, he had managed and Father had signed the estate and the business over to him three years ago.
That magnanimous gesture and vote of confidence from his father had still not been enough to banish the wariness and distrust he had always felt towards his sire, however. Thinking about his father prompted thoughts of the Abbey, and before he knew it he was puzzling yet again over the past and why his childhood home should still give him nightmares.
Jane pulled away from his embrace, her brown eyes searching his.
‘What is it? Is something wrong?’
He knew her concern for him should make him feel good, but he couldn’t quite dismiss his niggle of irritation. He might be reconciled to sharing his home and his life, but his thoughts were his and he never discussed those damnable nightmares. Not with anyone.
‘Nothing’s wrong. I was merely thinking of this place and how fortunate I am to have it. And how happy I am you are here to share it.’
It was no lie. It was what he had been thinking, it simply wasn’t the whole.
‘Oh. Well, that is good.’
Her robust response belied the expression in her eyes. He would have to take care with Jane—she was intuitive and, as she had just demonstrated, would soon pick up on any black moods if he allowed the past to gain a hold. It felt worryingly close to the surface at the moment—the visit to the Abbey had been bad enough, but that attack on Jane... Alex veered away from that line of thought with an inner curse. Not only must he lock that memory away for his sake but also, and more importantly, for Jane’s. The sooner he could banish her memories of Pikeford, the sooner those shadows haunting her eyes would disappear.
‘What will you call her?’ The filly approached them, her head and neck stretched forward, nostrils quivering, as Jane extended her hand so the horse could take in her scent. ‘She was black when she was born and her coat should continue to get lighter as she matures.’
‘What have you called her until now?’
‘Pearl.’ He grinned as Jane turned laughing eyes on him.
‘You named a black foal Pearl?’
He shrugged. ‘We knew she would turn lighter and, besides, there are such things as black pearls, you know.’
‘I do know. But, as it happens, I like Pearl so I shall keep it.’
They wandered back towards the barn where the stalls were. As they approached, Jane halted and clutched at Alex’s sleeve.
‘What is it?’
‘Shhh. Can you hear it?’
Chapter Seven
Jane turned this way and that before setting off with purposeful strides towards a lean-to attached to the side of the barn, where sacks of oats and barley were stored.
Alex caught her up at the door. It was dark inside, but he, too, could now hear the pitiful mewling. ‘Wait there,’ he said and strode to the barn where there was always a tinderbox and lantern on a ledge beside the door. He lit the lantern and carried it to the lean-to. Eyes glowed, reflecting the light, and Jane stepped cautiously forward.
‘It’s a cat and kittens.’ She crouched, crooning quietly. Then she looked back over her shoulder at Alex. ‘She’s very thin... I doubt she’s producing enough milk for her babies. Poor things. They look hungry.’
Alex suppressed a sigh. He knew what this meant. Jane could never resist a creature in need. He squatted by her side and the lantern illuminated the cat.
‘That’s one of the stable cats.’ He recognised its distinctive grey-and-white markings. Five kittens were at her belly, latching on to her teats and suckling for bare seconds before releasing the teat and trying another. ‘She’s one of the oldest—Lilley says she’s been here since he first started work for Sir William.’
Sir William Rockbeare had owned and run Foxbourne before Alex’s father bought it, and Lilley had stayed on as head groom.
‘What do you want to do? The outside cats are not tame. I doubt she’ll allow you—’
He fell silent. Jane had already made friends with the animal, stroking beneath her chin with one forefinger. He shouldn’t be surprised. He resigned himself to the inevitable.
‘Shall I find a basket for them?’
‘Yes, please, if it’s not too much trouble. I can feed the kittens with cow’s milk—it’s not ideal, but it’s better than nothing and I shall give the mother some meat. She’s very thin.’ Alex rose to his feet and now Jane smiled up at him. ‘Does she have a name?’
He snorted. ‘Of course she doesn’t have a name. She’s not a pet.’
‘She’s purring at me, despite everything. I shall call her Dora.’ She fixed him with a pointed look. ‘Did you say something about a basket? I shall move her closer to the house where I can care for her better, if you don’t object? There must be an outhouse or something I can use.’
He tweaked a lock of hair that had worked loose and now tumbled down her cheek. ‘Of course I don’t object. Anything to make you happy.’
She laughed. ‘I shall remember that rash promise, Alex. You may very well regret making it.’
‘Not me,’ he said, airily. ‘I’ll be back shortly. You stay there.’
By the time they had carried Dora and her kittens up to the house and settled them into a disused storeroom off the courtyard at the back of the house, it was time to change for dinner.
* * *
The evening flew past and, almost before Jane knew it, it was time for bed. Her stomach roiled, but her determination to conquer her fear was fierce.
I love him. I know he won’t hurt me. This is what I want...what I’ve always dreamed of.
They went together to check on Dora and to feed the kittens. Jane fed them with a small spoon, holding each kitten’s head still as she dribbled milk into its mouth. She made sure they were satisfied before she left them for the night and left some finely chopped lamb and a saucer of milk for Dora. The entire time she was caring for the animals she was conscious of Alex watching her, his shoulders propped against the door frame, arms folded.
‘All done?’ he asked when she finally stood up.
She nodded, washing her hands in the bowl of water she’d put there for the purpose. Alex patted her hands dry with the towel, then raised them to his lips, pressing a kiss on first one, then the other. He held her gaze, fire banked in his amber eyes.
‘Don’t be scared, Janey. You will be in control... I’ll do nothing you don’t enjoy and I’ll stop whenever you say the word. But you must tell me. If you tense up again, I will not stop. Not this time. Not unless you actually say stop.’ He brushed a kiss to her forehead, then rubbed the pad of his thumb gently across her lower lip. ‘Do you understand?’
It felt strange and embarrassing, discussing such intimate matters with him
here, in this storeroom, but she understood why he chose to have this conversation away from the bedchamber. Away from the heat and the passion. Her blood stirred and her pulse quickened. She had already come a long way and Alex...she trusted him. Implicitly. She nodded again and, on impulse, rocked up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his mouth. A different feeling coiled in her stomach, thrumming and growing.
Anticipation. Desire. Excitement.
Her apprehension was still there, but it no longer overwhelmed her. She breathed in. Alex: familiar, loved, tasting of his after-dinner port. She cradled his face and traced the seam of his lips with her tongue, the way she had learned from him. A hum of approval vibrated through him. His lips parted and she deepened her kiss as his arms swept around her and hauled her close. Her body moulded to his and she revelled in his lean, hard-muscled form. Visions crowded her brain—his hair-covered chest...his ridged abdomen...those taut buttocks...his sinewy, hair-dusted forearms and gentle hands with those long, clever fingers—images that crowded out her fear.
She clutched his shoulders as their tongues tangled and their lips clung and that strange sensation once more gathered deep in her belly and in the feminine folds between her thighs. Another image arose—Alex, fully aroused. Very male. And hers! Her heart skipped a beat and her breath seized. Slowly, daringly, she reached down and stroked along the hard length of his erection, rejoicing in his groaned response. Alex swept her into his arms and strode for the stairs.
Once in Jane’s bedchamber, Alex paused, his back against the closed door, Jane still cradled in his arms.
‘The word is “stop”, Honeybee. Not “no”. I intend to have you screaming no many times before the night is out, but I will only stop if you say that word.’
‘S-screaming?’
His eyes never left hers as a slow smile stretched his lips. ‘Oh, yes. Screaming. With pleasure. In ecstasy.’
Then his lips found hers again and they were on the bed. Fully clothed still, but that did nothing to slow the explosion of desire that rocked her as Alex kissed, fondled and stroked every inch of her face, neck, shoulders and chest. He was too slow. Too cautious. She pushed him away and sat up.
‘Help me,’ she demanded as she tried to reach the buttons at the back of her gown.
He unbuttoned her and unlaced her corset. She pushed his jacket from his shoulders and tugged his shirt over his head, impatient to see that magnificent chest. When she was clad only in her shift and he in his breeches, Alex flung himself down on to the bed, smiled and beckoned, heat blazing in his eyes. About to join him, Jane hesitated. You will be in control. She caught her lip between her teeth, then slowly released it, rewarded by yet another flare of desire in those beautiful tawny eyes, and an impatient hand patting the mattress beside him.
Control.
Jane approached the bed slowly, holding Alex’s gaze the entire time and then, slowly and deliberately, she slid her shift up to her thighs, lifted one leg across him and straddled his hips, her knees bent, hands splayed on his chest. He closed his eyes as though in pain, the planes of his face hardening, his eyebrows bunched.
‘Alex?’
He opened his eyes at her whisper and their gazes fused again. The corner of his mouth quirked and he flicked his brows. He rested his hands on her knees, his thumbs rhythmically caressing her.
‘Janey?’
‘If you want me to stop, you must say the word.’
He burst out laughing. ‘Janey—you are a tease!’ Then he sobered, his chest rising and falling with his quickened breathing. ‘Do your worst.’
She stroked across his chest, the hair crisp to her touch. His nipples hardened and she bent to catch one between her teeth and gently nipped. His gasp encouraged her to explore further and she leaned forward, the tips of her breasts brushing against his hot skin as she kissed her way up his chest to his neck and his ear—the sensitive zones where the caress of Alex’s mouth had provoked such shivers of anticipation. Her reward was a low moan of pleasure and a subtle tension that gripped the hard, male body beneath her.
When his hands settled on her hips, she protested. She wasn’t done with exploring yet. But rather than lift her or move her aside, he held her still as he flexed his hips, the hard ridge of his erection pressing against her secret flesh. She tried desperately not to freeze, directing her thoughts to what she was feeling now and away from Pikeford, and before long all memory of his attack faded into insignificance as Alex moved her back and forth, rubbing her against his solid arousal.
When his grip eased, Jane kept moving of her own volition. A low moan hovered in the air. Realising it had come from her own lips, she opened her eyes and met his bright, tawny gaze. He smiled. Seductively. Her blood heated still further, her heart pounding. Alex. Her love. For ever. She reached for the hem of her chemise and, in one swift movement, stripped it off over her head. By the time she discarded it, Alex’s mouth was on her breast and the tug on her nipple sent a ripple straight to her core. She pressed down on to his shaft, seeking to ease the need building deep inside her.
Slow, steady and languid turned to desperate. Hands squeezed and stroked...lips locked as tongues did battle...harsh pants filled the air, but now that sound drove her on. She thrust her fingers through Alex’s hair and flattened her body to his, gasping into his mouth when he growled and flipped her over on to her back. He tore his lips from hers and stood, dragging his breeches down, kicking his feet free, his eyes pinning her in place. Jane shivered at the look in those tiger eyes...and held out her arms.
He lowered himself over her, and the seductive touch of skin on skin sent her temperature rocketing. Her thighs parted and he settled between them, kissing her, slow and deep. Her fingers dug into solid shoulder muscles as he kissed and licked his way to her breasts, and she shifted restlessly, moaning her impatience. She stilled when he explored her stomach with his mouth, dipping into the hollow of her navel, his body inching steadily down the bed. The first flick of his tongue between her thighs almost shot her off the mattress.
‘Alex?’
Surely that can’t be right? But... Oh... I want more...
‘Shhh, my sweet.’ Another lick. ‘You taste so good. Like honey.’ The words groaned out. Then his whole mouth was on her, kissing, sucking...tongue, probing...
Her body arched off the mattress and she reached for his head, clutching mindlessly at his hair, the muscles in her legs tensing as she pushed her yearning flesh against his mouth. His fingers replaced his mouth as he latched on to her nipple, working magic, driving her into a frenzy as she struggled to reach the unknown goal she sensed awaited her. The sensation of his fingers inside her...his tongue and teeth toying with her nipple...his thumb, circling, between her legs...ooooh...exquisite... She arched, helplessly, her fingers clutching blindly at anything within reach...higher...reaching...a sob gathered in her throat...
That sob shrieked from her and she flew into darkness spangled with a million sparkling stars, ecstasy rippling through her in waves. Gasps echoed around the room. Her gasps.
‘Oh! Oh! Oh!’
She reached, found Alex and drew him up so she could kiss him.
‘Ooh...’ She sighed. ‘Ooh.’
She felt his smile against her lips. ‘You liked that, Honeybee?’
She nodded, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone speech. Her eyes flew open then as Alex’s weight settled between her legs, the head of his shaft at her entrance. She widened her thighs, welcoming him in. Propped on his elbows, he captured her gaze as he slowly, slowly pushed into her. She wanted him. She wanted more. She wanted hurry and urgency, not this slow, slow torture. She reached, finding his buttocks, tight with control, and she grabbed, pulling him in. A stab of pain, gone in an instant. He kept pushing, filling her, further and further until she couldn’t take any more.
Then he smiled down at her. ‘Do you want me to stop, sweetheart?’
Jane shook her head. ‘Nooo...’ The long-drawn-out sigh escaped her lips, like a plea. This felt so right.
He moved slowly at first and she soon caught the rhythm, and matched him, meeting each thrust, steady and controlled at first, but then faster and harder—driving her on, up and up, until she reached the edge again and threw herself over. Alex’s roar of triumph mingled with her scream of joy as they soared high together. His weight slumped on to her before he rolled aside to lie on his back beside her, his hand seeking hers as, gradually, their breathing returned to normal. Then he turned to face her, propping himself up on one elbow, and stroked her cheek.
‘Well, Janey?’ His fingers sifted through the locks of hair tumbling across the pillow. ‘Do you think you might eventually grow to enjoy such bed sport?’
She laughed at his teasing, gloriously happy, her confidence in herself as a woman as high as those stars. She kissed him, pouring her heart into it.
‘Oh, yes. Although...’ she tilted her head ‘...we might be compelled to practise. A lot.’
Alex laughed. ‘I think we might manage that.’
He sat up, and swung his legs out of bed. Jane’s stomach clenched. She touched his back, the skin warm and smooth beneath her fingers.
‘Don’t go, Alex. Please.’
‘I don’t want to disturb you, Janey. You know I have...that is, you know I’m a restless sleeper.’
This wasn’t the time to discuss his nightmares so she let his comment pass, but she was determined to try to help him overcome his childhood demons. She was convinced talking about the past would help, but she knew how hard he would resist.
‘I don’t mind if you’re restless. I would rather you stay—can we not at least try? I like having you here with me.’
‘In that case, my sweet, I shall stay.’ He lay back again, rolling over to face her. ‘I like being here with you, too.’ His lips curved into a wicked, teasing smile, his tawny eyes dancing. ‘And I can think of no better way to start the day than waking up next to a beautiful woman.’ He leaned across, seizing her lips in a slow, drugging kiss. ‘Especially a beautiful woman who just happens to be my wife.’
Christmas with His Wallflower Wife Page 7