She had never felt that.
Then she’d met Thomas, and desire had curled through her, reminding her there were reasons why women enjoyed the company of men.
Diane shivered as a warm, mysterious ribbon pulled slowly through her feminine core. She had been playing with fire when she teased Thomas on the plane. She’d known that, even as they’d kissed. Yet she hadn’t been able to stop herself. What sort of sense did that make?
She looked down into the garden again. To her horror she found Thomas had left the bench and was standing immediately below her window, looking up at her. She froze, met his dark eyes, couldn’t look away. Her palms grew moist; her mouth went dry. Her entire body prickled with anticipation as his gaze hardened, held hers. If she’d had any doubt whether or not he wanted her, it was gone now. But she remembered his words on the plane. He wouldn’t do anything to dishonor Jacob.
Damn him.
Damn the two of them.
“Are you awake?” a familiar voice called from the doorway behind her.
“Yes,” Diane breathed.
She heard Allison approach, but didn’t turn away from the window. Not until Thomas lowered his eyes and disappeared beneath the rose-blanketed stone arch leading into the lower level of the castle. Roses were nice, but they couldn’t hold her interest after the fervor of the Englishman’s gaze.
Diane faced her sister. “Just admiring your garden.”
Wrapping her arms around her, Allison hugged hard. “It’s so good to see you. I wish you’d been able to come to us sooner.”
“You know how it is—the kids have school, and I have the day-care business. It’s hard to find coverage for even one day, let alone a week or two.”
“But you’re here now and we’ll spend the summer together!” Allison said joyfully.
She had always been the more delicate of the two sisters. Her skin was nearly translucent, while Diane’s was tanned golden by the sun. Allison’s hair was a shimmering blond, smooth, falling down her back in a fine veil. A distinct contrast to Diane’s dark brown pageboy. She was a few inches shorter than Diane and of a lighter bone structure. But they’d always been close in matters of the heart.
Diane nodded. Yes, if she could just put aside forbidden emotions, they would have fun together. And she would luxuriate in the rare freedom of not being in charge of a gaggle of lively youngsters. She adored her kids, but she had called her parents as soon as she’d arrived and they assured her that the children were having the time of their lives. So now, for once, it was her time. Time to indulge herself. “What do we do first?” she asked.
“Actually, we have some time to think about that,” Allison stated, sounding apologetic. “I have several meetings that were scheduled months ago, and I can’t miss them. They involve our Children’s Rescue League.”
“I understand. Of course you must go,” Diane agreed. “I’ll be fine on my own until you’re free.”
“You won’t have to be on your own.” Allison’s blue eyes sparkled merrily.
“I won’t?”
“No. I spoke with Thomas this morning and asked him to show you around the city.”
A minor chord twanged in Diane’s heart. So that was why he had looked so upset. He had been contemplating having to spend the day with her. Either he hadn’t liked the idea at all, or he’d liked it far too much for what he deemed his own good. Diane hid a smile behind her hand and felt just a teensy bit wicked. How far did she dare go?
A flash of his large hands against the bruised skin of her foot teased her mind. Warmed her from inside. She would love to know what those marvelous fingers would feel like on other parts of her body.
She became aware that Allison was still talking, and she hastily refocused her thoughts to listen to the tail end of a list of nearby tourist sites. “I have to rush off for now.” Her sister moved toward the door. “But I’ll be back tonight for dinner, as will Jacob. We’ll chat about plans for your vacation then.”
“That’s fine,” Diane assured her.
“Thomas will take good care of you.” Allison gave her one last reassuring wink, then was gone, leaving behind a whisper of her perfume—lilacs and sweet william.
Diane decided the outcome of the day was out of her hands. It would either be the best of any in recent times, or the very worst. She supposed that would depend upon Thomas.
By eleven o’clock that morning, her private tour of the fifteenth-century castle had already taken nearly two hours, even though Thomas moved at an aerobics-class pace. He hadn’t slowed as he’d pointed out a Tintoretto oil on one wall, then a breathtaking Velázquez followed by a solemn Dürer. All of the paintings were magnificent, as were the sculptures that waited to surprise her in the least expected turns and niches in the long corridors. The marble of David—nude, glorious in his determination, beautifully muscled—left her weak in the knees and was her favorite. But Thomas swept her on, past tapestries of unicorns, medieval battles and exquisitely gowned ladies. He spouted historical details about the victories and defeats of the various residents of Der Kristallenpalast, the crystal palace, as the fortress at Elbia had been known for centuries, because of the shimmering appearance of its rare, quartz-streaked, white Russian marble. He barely took a breath between facts. And he always, always kept a safe distance of several feet between himself and her.
At first Diane was amused and flattered by his anxiety. But by the time they left the castle proper and crossed the courtyard to the royal stables, she’d grown irritated with his refusal to acknowledge the mounting sensual tension between them. When he courteously held a door for her as they entered the low cedar-lined building, she sensed his free hand hovering behind her back as if to guide her through. On a perverse whim, she stopped dead in the doorway.
Thomas’s hand kept moving and settled briefly in the curve of her spine. She turned to face him, but he quickly jerked his hand away and started to step back.
“Don’t you dare run away.” She flashed her eyes up at him.
He stopped where he was and stared at her in open-mouthed confusion.
“And don’t pretend you have no idea what’s been going on all morning,” she scolded, catching his wayward brown eyes with hers and holding them.
A groom passed by them, and she could sense Thomas’s body tightening another notch. “Nothing is going on,” he said firmly.
“Oh, no? Thomas, you were practically galloping through the castle. If you don’t want to play host, just say so. I’ll find my own way around and probably have a better time. At least I won’t pass out from exhaustion.”
“I’m sorry if I was walking too fast for you, Mrs. Fields,” he said loudly enough to be heard by anyone in the stable.
“Thomas-s-s-s,” she hissed at him, “cut it out.” She leveled a glare at him she usually reserved for a disobedient child.
Backing into a wooden pillar, he let his shoulders slump as he leaned against it for support. “It’s that obvious…what I’m thinking?”
“Yes.”
“I will try to control myself better.”
“That’s not what I want.”
He looked at her warily. “I already told you…we can’t—”
“I want for us to be friends,” she said. “I like you, Thomas, you know that. I want to stop pretending and just act like two adults who are attracted to each other but have agreed nothing can happen beyond friendship.”
He stared at her, and she wondered what he was thinking.
“Don’t you think that’s possible?” she asked.
“I’m not accustomed to—” He looked away from her, a shadow crossing his perplexed features. “When I’m attracted to a woman, I usually find a way to…to be with her. If not right away, sometime later.”
“Later, when Jacob doesn’t require your services?”
“Yes.”
She nodded slowly. “And what if she says she’s not interested?”
A flicker of a grin passed over his full lips, and he turned bac
k to her. “That hasn’t happened in recent memory.”
A chill raced through her. An exceedingly pleasant, very urgent chill. What would it be like to be with such a man? A man who knew how to please a woman, just for mutual delight? No attachments. No promises. The two of them sharing a physical moment.
Diane thought about the long, busy years since college. She’d been a good woman, dedicated to her children, hardworking, faithful to a husband who didn’t love her. Didn’t she deserve one summer fling in her lifetime?
And it wasn’t as if Thomas was just any man she’d picked up on a beach or in a bar. She liked him immensely, and he was, she felt sure, a kind man. A man who wouldn’t hurt her. A man who would take care of her pleasure as thoroughly as he’d see to his own.
The thought of their being together began to simmer inside of her. But how did a woman convince a man to put aside what he viewed as his honor, just for a little while, to make love to her?
In novels, the heroine seduced her man. She batted her eyes at him, slithered close, tossed her head provocatively, bared cleavage. Me? she thought, and nearly giggled.
“Thomas,” she said quietly. “I know I’m not like the other women in your life. But you say you’re attracted to me?”
He dropped his chin a bare inch then raised it again in agreement. His eyes darkened, the black pupils dilating perceptibly. She felt sure the delicate throbbing of the vein in his right temple intensified.
“I want to have an affair.” That was as plain as she could make it.
He stared at her.
“But I don’t want to have it with just anyone. I want him to be a friend. I want to have sex with a friend. Is that so obscene?”
“N-no,” he finally found his voice. “But I don’t believe you understand the consequences, in our case.”
“And they are?”
“As I explained before, we must consider your family and my position. But there’s also the difference between our natures. A man can have intimate relations with a woman and walk away from the bed feeling nothing more than grateful for a pleasant experience. A woman can’t.”
“You believe a woman has to fall in love with every man she sleeps with?”
“Not every woman.” He was observing her so intently, she shuddered under the weight of his gaze.
“A woman like me.”
“Yes.”
“Why do you think that?”
He opened his hands and slowly settled them on her shoulders. “Because you are a moral woman, Diane. You aren’t accustomed to meaningless affairs. You would be hurt when it was over. I couldn’t do that to you.”
“Don’t you think I should have a choice in the matter?”
“Not if it’s the wrong choice.” His voice suddenly held a brittle edge. His eyes turned to black flames. “Don’t be foolish, woman.”
She slapped him across the face.
For a moment Diane felt as stunned as he looked. Never in her life had she raised a hand against another person—adult or child. She’d just struck Thomas, when all he’d done to deserve it was tell her he wished to do the honorable thing.
“I-I’m so sorry.” His cheek was turning pink where the flat of her hand had landed. She gently pressed her palm to the inflamed skin. “I didn’t mean to— Oh, Thomas. It’s just that you can’t know what’s best for me when—”
He moved so quickly she didn’t have time to finish her apology. With a quick glance down the straw-covered alley, he dragged her into an empty stall and latched both top and bottom halves of the split door. The space smelled of cedar, sweet clean straw and horseflesh.
Thomas pressed her against the plank wall and dove for her mouth with bruising intention. He forced her lips open, swept his tongue over the sharp edges of her teeth then deeper. He tasted of coffee with a touch of scotch, and she thought fleetingly that he must have fortified himself for their tour after Allison gave him his assignment.
“Is this what you want?” he demanded, bending to roughly kiss her throat. He was so much taller than she, he had to contort his body to reach her. Then he was lifting her with ease to his level, raking his lips the length of her throat, down into the collar of her shirt.
What did she want? To be ravaged in a stable? No. Or maybe, yes. Maybe that would make her feel alive again. It had been so long, so very long since she’d felt wanted. As harsh as Thomas was trying to be, Diane was more curious than afraid of him. His left hand found her breast, and while he still pinned her between the wall of his chest and wall of wood, he kneaded the sensitive flesh through the fabric of her shirt. If he intended to shock her, he failed. His big hand felt glorious, and she wanted more.
“You’re not going to scare me off,” she gasped.
“Dangerous,” he growled between kisses. “Too dangerous.”
Yes, in the stable where a groom might wander in at any time, they were taking a risk. Or was he talking about something else, another sort of peril?
But even as he was warning both of them, his hands were doing remarkable things to her body. They traveled beneath her blouse and bra, kneading her throbbing breasts, caressing her nipples to erection with his thumbs. They smoothed down over her skirt, lifted its hem, shot upward along her thighs. When he pressed her hips against his taut, muscled thighs, she felt his arousal, hard and long beneath the zipper of his trousers, against her stomach. She wondered if he was as generously sized there as the rest of his body. The thought sent delicious chills through her.
Diane closed her eyes as he reached between her thighs. His fingers slid expertly beneath the elastic of her panties. Even before he touched the tender folds of flesh, swollen with heat, aching for him, she sensed a primal flow of moisture.
“One of us must stop this,” he ground out in her ear.
“No,” she whispered. “Not…yet.”
His fingers felt hot and lightly callused and strong as he stroked her. She arched against him, pressing her back against the unyielding boards. Her heart pounded wickedly, urgently against her ribs. When she opened her eyes, they failed to focus. All she could see was a blur of dark hair, a wall of chest, a tower of man—then he was kissing her again, his fingers moving more urgently, cleverly, finding the most sensitive places, transporting her so high she could only throw her arms around his strong neck, cling to him, let him take her wherever he chose. And hope she survived the fall when he released her. She still wanted more.
Instinctively Diane reached down and grasped his wrist. Their eyes met in understanding. She wasn’t pushing him away; it was a plea. He thrust his fingers deeper, and she pressed herself against his curled knuckles, feeling her feminine muscles tighten around him, spasm delightfully, tighten again.
“Oh, my!” she gasped between his lips.
It had been so long, so very, very long. And it had never been like this for her. Never. The fierceness of her response rocked her, and she had to reach up again and hold on to Thomas. He understood her hunger and kept time with her rhythms, stayed within her, sliding his two thick fingers in and out, bringing wave after wave of steamy ecstasy to her starved body as he pressed his mouth over hers to smother her cries of exultation.
A silver cloud closed around her, and she suddenly felt so very dizzy she knew she couldn’t stand without support. All sense of time left her. Nothing existed but the pleasure he was giving her. A desperate need to see and touch him as he was touching her flashed across her subconscious. But in her mind Thomas’s words echoed, Dangerous…too dangerous.
Besides, he was doing things to her that made it impossible for her to act. All strength, all volition deserted her. She could only submit as he brought her to yet another…and another climax. He was right. If she’d been here before, she would have known.
At last she rested her head back against the cedar planks, let her arms drop limply from his shoulders and drew a long shuddering breath. She felt spent, tingling. She closed her eyes and let the rest of the world settle back into place before she opened her eyes
.
“Are you all right?” Thomas asked in his deepest rumble.
Diane looked dreamily up at him, her lips curving in a soft smile. “Never better. You?”
“Not so good, I’m afraid.” He grimaced charmingly at her.
“We can do something about that,” she suggested playfully.
“No.” He tucked in his rumpled shirt, walked to the door and listened for a moment, raked his fingers through his hair and glowered at the spot on the dirt floor where they’d tramped down the straw.
“Thomas, we didn’t do anything to hurt anyone.”
“I’ve broken my trust,” he muttered.
“You gave me immense pleasure,” she whispered.
“I don’t expect that’s the sort of recreation the king and queen planned for you, do you?” He looked pointedly at her.
“Why should what they want be so important?” she asked tightly. “Why doesn’t what you or I want count for anything?”
He shook his head. “You can’t understand.”
“No,” she said tightly, “I guess I can’t.” She stuffed her feet back into her leather flats, which had mysteriously come off her feet, and rebuttoned her blouse.
Blindly Diane raced out through the stable doors, across the yard, muttering to herself, but finding rich consolation in the knowledge that she’d left Thomas in dire need. “Serves the man right,” she spat.
Thomas let loose with every British, German and American cuss word he knew. What had he been thinking? He’d started the day with the best intentions. Yes, he understood that Diane Fields wanted to have an affair with him. But he’d made it perfectly clear to the woman that this could never happen. There were so many reasons it was a bad idea. He’d gone over them repeatedly in his own mind and thought he’d given her a logical explanation, as well.
If she was determined to have sex with a man, let her go ahead and do it—but not with him. If they were discovered, his friendship with Jacob would forever be blackened. His job, which he loved, would likely be snatched away from him. But most of all, he feared the effect Diane had on him, which was unlike that of any other woman.
The Earl Takes A Bride (Elbia Series Book 2) Page 6