Last night had been nothing short of magical. Never in her life had she felt as close to a man—or Andrew for that matter—than she had during that waltz. Her feet had scarcely touched the floor. He’d been attentive and charming, witty and dare she say protective, but beyond that, they had shared something intimate, something unexplainable during that dance, perhaps exchanged a tiny sliver of each other’s souls.
That exquisite change lingered with her even now.
Had they been alone instead in her great uncle’s drawing room, she might have lost herself in him, given him everything, but since they’d been mingling with the local gentry, she’d had to remain content with drifting in the strong circle of his arms. No, she wouldn’t soon forget that waltz or the benchmark it had made in their relationship.
And perhaps she’d fallen in love with him a tiny bit. She caught her breath. Was that true? In the span of a week, could things between them have changed so drastically? Perhaps it had only been the magic of that one moment. He’d certainly made an effort to control his emotions as well as his responses since his mental break, but would it last?
Could a man make such deep inroads in a mere seven days?
I suppose it depends on his motivation.
Time would tell.
After Sarah warmed her fingers and lips with a few scales and arpeggios, she practiced a particularly difficult piece that she hadn’t quite committed to memory yet. She’d planned to audition with it in London—if she could master it. Well, that was before she’d married. Over and over, her fingers flew through the notes as her eyes skipped along the sheet music. The lilting melodies that swooped and flew sent her soaring, and each time she arrived at the three-quarter mark, her fingers fumbled on a complicated run of notes making for discordant tones.
“Well, drat.” She heaved out a breath of frustration. “That stretch always baffles me. My fingers don’t move as quickly as they should.” Would she have been able to tackle the piece if she were ten years younger?
What a depressing thought that was.
“Don’t give up.” The baritone of his voice shattered her concentration.
“Andrew.” She started and glanced up from her music. He had come into the room, apparently on silent feet, and had seated himself on a low sofa, which had been his wont this past week whenever she spent time practicing. It was both endearing and nerve-wracking. “I won’t, of course. This is Paris Symphonies from Haydn, and it’s currently vexing me.”
“You’re determined enough that you’ll master it in no time.” He rested an ankle on a knee with an indulgent smile. “Why did you select that piece over another?”
Had his voice always sent gooseflesh popping along her arms? “It’s a favorite and…” Should she tell him of the dream she couldn’t forget?
“Yes?” The silver threads in his hair glimmered in the candlelight, and today his stormy eyes were more gray than blue.
“I had thought to audition before a few groups in London if I ever had the opportunity.” As nonchalantly as she could, Sarah placed the flute in its case. “But now I’m a countess.”
“What difference does that make? Have you suddenly lost the ability to play simply because you hold a title?”
“I suppose it doesn’t.” She peered at him, alert for any sign of brewing temper, but his body language was relaxed and his grin this side of wicked. “I didn’t wish to do so in the event it would fracture my focus on new responsibilities.”
“If that is something you wish to do, I don’t want to stand in your way.” He shrugged, but there was a guarded light in his eyes. “I can accompany you to London, say the word.”
Flutters flitted through her lower belly at the concession. “I’m not quite ready for all that. Let me practice for a few more weeks.”
He nodded. “Have you ever performed in front of an audience?”
“Aside from you?” She couldn’t help smiling, for he was the most appreciative audience she could ever hope for. “I have not.”
“Perhaps it’s something you should think about.” He shrugged. “What if, when you play before a crowd, you decide it’s not for you? No matter how well an audition might go, and regardless of how wonderful I think you play, it’s much different than standing before a room full of people, all looking at you.”
Was he trying to dissuade her from a goal? “That’s true.” Or perhaps he was merely being logical. Sarah drifted away from the windows toward the sofa. “Once I conquer this piece, then I’ll think about performing.”
“You have memorized several other equally beautiful pieces,” he said in a soft voice. “If you truly wish to go to London for this, you can.”
Now that was a grand concession from him, and her heart trembled. “I… thank you.” Why did the thought of doing this suddenly make her fearful?
He gazed at her with speculation. “Did either of your parents have a proclivity to music?”
Sarah shook her head. “No, but Papa dearly loved to listen to it. Every time he came back from his travels, he’d bring me an instrument of some kind until I came to love the flute. He sold the rest, and from then on, he would bring me sheet music.” She smiled in remembrance. “It’s horribly expensive, but I’m so grateful to him.”
“He supported your endeavors?”
“Papa always said, ‘Sarah, you’re stubborn enough to teach the men of this world a trick or two, and I won’t discourage that.’ But when he died…” She bit her lip as a stab of grief suddenly came to life. “I didn’t play for a year. Perhaps that’s why I can’t move past this bloody passage. It reminds me too much of him.”
“You are quite stubborn.” His chiseled lips curved with a slow grin. “We never know how much influence our fathers have on us until they’re gone. Good or bad, they remain as either a guide or a warning.”
“Yes.” Sarah stared at him in amazement. It was a rather insightful statement for him. And there was no sign of the usual anger that accompanied any mention of his family. Oh, it was so encouraging to see such growth!
“If music is the one thing that brings you happiness, pursue it with all the passion you have in you. I won’t hold you back, for I wish I’d had that too.” He flicked a glance to one of the windows. A hint of sadness tinged his expression, but why? “Unless you’d like to walk in the rain, we’ll need to postpone our daily constitutional.”
“I don’t mind. We’ll spend the time here.” Unbidden, she perched on the sofa with a cushion between them. When she caught a whiff of his bay rum shaving soap, a tremble moved down her spine. “Thank you for last night. I appreciated your support as well as your expertise while dancing.”
“I enjoyed the evening, too, which surprised the hell out of me.” He didn’t change his lounging posture, but his eyes darkened slightly as he looked at her. “I’m merely sorry I had to wake you prematurely. You looked so peaceful in the carriage, but that was hardly a fitting bed for a countess.”
“No, I suppose not.” She ducked her head while pushing her spectacles into place. “It’s been a while since I passed such a lively evening.” A touch of heat infused her cheeks. “I’ll not do so again, for it isn’t flattering for a countess to claim fatigue and fall asleep on the ride home.” No doubt the strain of being thrust into the public eye had taken a toll on her.
“I found it endearing. Also, you snore.”
“I do not! I’ve never snored in my life.” A hint of indignation echoed in her voice before she caught the amusement in his eyes. It was so out of place that her lower jaw dropped slightly. “You’re teasing me.”
“Yes.” He straightened, planting both booted feet on the floor, and then turned toward her. “Thank you for extending such trust to me that you would fall asleep on my shoulder. I don’t take that lightly.”
“You were charming last night, I’ll give you that.” He’d been so solid and warm that she’d felt protected with him. Sarah ran her fingers over the fabric of her morning dress of yellow sprigged muslin. “And you
handled my great uncle splendidly.” No matter how many times her relative tried to ingratiate himself to the earl, Andrew always saw through the obviously flattering remarks and deflected the conversation.
“I dislike when anyone disparages my wife.” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “You command a certain respect in England now. I won’t have that overlooked by petty jealousy.”
She’d never heard him directly refer to her as that before, and it caused another hoard of butterflies to take flight in her belly. “Then it’s a good thing you and I don’t have another society event on our social calendar any time soon.” Why was her voice so breathless?
“Oh? Did you not enjoy yourself?”
“I did, though it was tiring. However, I merely meant… that is to say…” Drat. How had she fallen into this muddle? Never did she have issue with saying exactly what was on her mind. Why now? “I’d like to spend more time with you, alone,” she finally concluded as her cheeks heated even more.
One of his eyebrows rose. “If you’re of a mind, I could teach you to play whist or faro. If you have a favorite book of poetry, I could read to you.”
She pressed a hand to a flaming cheek. “That sounds lovely, but perhaps we could indulge in that later.” Why was it so difficult to tell him what she wanted?
Because something had shifted between them. It both frightened and exhilarated her. Truly, they had started their relationship anew, and now… well, she wanted more.
“I might be a cad, but I do so wish to hear you say it, Sarah.” Andrew scooted onto the cushion beside her. A certain intensity lit his eyes. “How should we spend our time?” he asked, his voice a thrilling whisper that sent tingles down her spine.
Heat swept over her in a wave. “Oh, must you continue to be aggravating?”
“I will, for it keeps a nice spark between us.” When he winked, she couldn’t help her grin. “And a spark is the first step to building a fire.”
“Fine.” She leaned toward him. He smelled so delicious, and those shoulders! Oh, but she wanted to touch him, hold him. “Kiss me. I thought you might have done so last night but—”
He moved so quickly, pressed his lips to hers so fast she didn’t have time to finish her sentence. The kiss was gentle, fleeting, naught but the chaste kiss of a man early in courtship, yet it left her needing so much more. When he pulled away, humor danced in his eyes with desire darkening those depths. “I did want to but feared of doing anything that might weaken my control over other emotions.”
Sarah pushed her spectacles back into place. “How do you feel now?” Would they always need to be concerned about his state of mind before doing anything intimate?
“Like I should really go close the door.”
“Truly?” Excitement accelerated her heartbeat. Was she making yet another mistake when it came to him?
“Oh, yes.” He rose smoothly to his feet, and Sarah stood as well. “After last night, this next bit is inevitable to mark a new direction, don’t you think?” he asked as he strode across the room, closed the door, and then turned the lock. The mechanism clicked into place.
“Yes.” The word sailed out from her suddenly tight throat on a whisper. Tingles played up and down her spine while the earl moved to the side door that connected into the next room. He locked that one as well.
When he returned to her and took her hands, his own shook. Did he experience the same nervousness as she? It was quite different than his usual anxiety, and it was endearing. “Are you quite certain, Sarah? After the last time…”
“I suspect this time will be different.” Please let that be so.
Andrew tugged her into his arms and claimed her lips with gentle insistence, and she eagerly surrendered to his mastery.
They connected without words, for there was no need for talking. While he nibbled at the corners of her mouth, she twined her hands around his neck, furrowed the fingers of one hand through his hair. This kiss was so much more than she’d hoped; so far removed from her wedding night it brought tears to her eyes. He drew her closer to him, so that they were essentially locked together, pressed into each other, fitting completely and seamless as if always meant to nest together like bookends.
The solid manliness of him beneath her hands, the warmth of him that seeped into her, the insistent bulge of his arousal that lay against her belly all worked to accentuate her need, and she fell beneath the wave of awareness sweeping over her. She pulled away long enough to whisper, “This is nice.”
“It’s merely the beginning.” He trailed his lips along the underside of her jaw. At a particularly sensitive spot near her ear, a moan escaped her. How had she never known about that before? He took the hint and teased the area with his tongue, went so far as to take her earlobe and give it a nip, then he resumed exploring the column of her throat. “I want—need—so much more, but only if you’re willing.”
“I am.” Her lips were so close to his that with each word, she brushed them. She didn’t move; neither did he, and for the space of a few heartbeats, when he exhaled, she inhaled. They exchanged air, breathing in tandem. Then her eyes shuttered closed. “Kiss me again.”
“Gladly.” He settled her more comfortably in his arms and followed her instructions most splendidly. The kiss was more intense than the first, but not violent or forceful like his showing on their wedding night. This time, he chased her tongue, fenced with her as she sought his, and there was a slight hesitation to his embrace, almost as if he sought her permission, asked for her invitation, and finally he claimed her mouth as she clung to him until they panted with mutual need.
“You’re quite… potent,” Sarah gasped out, her words soft and breathless. She lifted her chin as he dragged his lips down the side of her throat. Cheeky man, he slid his hands to her hips and held her tight against him.
“Not as much as you.” Andrew traced the bodice of her gown with his lips. He licked and nipped at the skin there and pulled another moan from her. With an arm supporting her back, he lowered her to the sofa and quickly followed her down, covering her body with his. A searing kiss muddled her thoughts, and the sensation of flying came over her. He kissed her so deeply she wondered if he wished to touch her soul, but then she responded in kind.
A guttural groan rumbled from him. Her eyes fluttered open. He watched her, desire glinting in those stormy blue-gray depths, the same want that thrummed through her veins. With a half-growl that conveyed his feelings, he kissed her again, more insistent. Sarah fairly drowned in the sensations racing over her.
She fisted a hand in his cravat while her hand at his nape encouraged him closer. “Touch me, Andrew.” With a tug, she unknotted the crisp fabric and then moved on to the buttons of his jacket.
He treated her to a string of baby-fine kisses. All the while he pulled at her bodice until her breasts popped free of the fabric layers. She shivered at the sudden exposure to cooler air, but then he was there, reverently kissing the quivering globes, circling around the hardening nipples until she couldn’t stand the teasing. She guided his head to one tip, and when he closed his lips around it, sucked it into the warm cavern of his mouth, she uttered a half-cry, half-moan. Wicked sensation streaked from the breast to between her thighs.
And it was the most glorious thing she’d ever known.
“God, you’re so beautiful, so soft,” he murmured against her skin as he licked, nibbled, and sucked his way between her breasts. “I should have told you that night…” His hold on her tightened.
“Shh.” She didn’t want him sidetracked. “But you said it now, and that’s all that matters.” One by one, she had his buttons undone, and once his waistcoat gaped, she tugged his fine lawn shirt from his breeches. “Let me see you. All’s fair, you know.”
“Minx.” He lifted off her long enough to shed the clothing from his torso.
“Oh.” The word was uttered on a breath as she drank in the look of him. Those wide shoulders hadn’t been exaggerated by padding. A dark mat of black hair shot with gray decor
ated his chest. When she slid her gaze lower to his nearly flat abdomen, the hair collected into a thin ribbon that disappeared beneath his breeches. Her pulse hastened its cadence, and she desperately wished to see where that trail led.
“Can I trust from your expression you approve of this old man?” The insecurity in his eyes was adorable.
“You’re hardly that. Perhaps seasoned or experienced.” She swallowed to encourage moisture into her throat. “But you are quite handsome and…”
“And?” he asked softly as he covered her body with his once more.
“You make my mouth water to taste you,” she finished with heat in her cheeks. Goodness, what had possessed her to say that?
“There’s nothing stopping you.” With care, Andrew removed her spectacles and set them on the small table near her head. Then he claimed her lips again with a kiss so gentle and moving that tears accumulated in her eyes.
Sarah smoothed her hands over his shoulders and down his back. Muscles tensed and flexed beneath her touch, and that strength called out to her. The coarse hair on his chest tickled her breasts to increase the desire swirling through her body. There was no use denying what she felt. “I need you,” she whispered with a look into his face. “Please.”
Slowly, he nodded. “I need you too.” In that moment, understanding passed between them. Honestly shone in his eyes, unclouded with anything else. As if he couldn’t bear another moment from her, he kissed her, made love to her mouth, sought out her tongue over and over, and in doing so, hinted at what was to come. Slowly, almost reverently, he drew her skirts upward, bunching the fabric at her waist. Then he settled between her partially splayed legs.
“You’re certain?”
“Oh, yes.” She’d never wanted anything as badly as she wanted him now. Running a hand down his chest, she combed her fingers through the hair there. So much power banked within him. Would that translate to carnal attentions?
The Soul of a Storme Page 18