by Dayna Quince
Would he hurt her?
He knew how to keep his heart out of his affairs, but she was an innocent and this time… Well, this was different. She was different. Leaving her would be different from any of his other lovers.
He swallowed.
What was happening to him? He had to keep his head straight.
He would be a terrible husband. Gone all the time like his father had been. He didn’t even have a real home. He slept in the apartment above his main manufactory. He traveled all the bloody time and kept late hours if he even went to sleep at all.
All these things made for a terrible marriage. He knew it. He’d seen it. The crying, the arguing, the secret lovers his mother was terrible at hiding. All to gain his father’s attention, which never ended the way she’d wanted it. He just stayed away more.
When Gavin finished school and joined his father in business, he’d had a sliver of hope things would improve between them, but the man he recognized as his father was still little more than a stranger. He treated Gavin as an apprentice, but there was no warmth between them.
And then he’d died, leaving the business to Gavin. He couldn’t remember feeling anything for the man. But he had learned from him. Learned to keep his distance, learned to keep emotion out of business, out of his arrangements with his lovers.
Emotion led to disappointment, and if you didn’t let yourself feel anything deeper than lust to begin with, you couldn’t get hurt. And you couldn’t hurt others. The last was the most important to him.
With all his affairs, he’d been clear about his intentions.
So why did this feel different?
Why, despite being completely honest with Georgie, did he feel like there was going to be pain no matter what he did?
Gavin moved out of the shadows, passing through the hall to the parlor. She was waiting for him right now while he stood in the dark, woolgathering. He was moving before he’d made a decision. Whatever was happening between them, he couldn’t stop it, not yet, not right now.
The door was open just a crack, the hinges silent as he nudged it open and slipped through. He saw her silhouette before the single window and closed the door, turning the key to ensure their privacy.
He didn’t know what to say. Half of him wanted to talk, to make it clear and if need be, end things before it was too late. But the other half, the stronger half, insisted he take every chance, claim her, protect her, and never let her go.
He stood by the door, his feet weighted by indecision. She turned, her hair as dark as night, her skin unnaturally bright in the silvery light of the window. She smiled tentatively, strolling toward him. He could feel her reticence, her uncertainty regarding him.
Did she know they played with fire? One or both of them would be burned. At some point. And some time in the near future, this thing between them would unravel and they would both be laid bare.
Chapter 13
You’re here. I thought…you might not come.” She stopped half way across the room, and Gavin could feel the pull of whatever it was that drew him to her. The current that ran between them from the very beginning.
He swallowed. “I shouldn’t but it would be wrong to leave you waiting.”
She took another step closer. “Have you changed your mind?”
He should. If he had an ounce of control left, of good sense, he would insist they part ways as friends and never touch her again.
But I can’t.
That was his problem. He should have left days ago. He should have said no to her, to himself. This attraction was beyond his expertise in the ways of seduction and dalliance.
He was as inexperienced as she.
And he was captivated
He stepped forward, and the relief on her face speared him. The distance between them closed until he held her hands, and she tilted her face up to his with expectation.
“I haven’t changed my mind. Everything…is the same.”
Her head turned slightly. “You seem different from earlier.”
He took in her clothing, the plain dark cloak over her virginal white nightgown. “I’ve been doing a bit of thinking.”
She slipped her hands from his. “About?”
He missed the warmth from her hands. “My father.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded. “Oh.”
“I—I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
“We’ve only so much time left.”
“I know.”
“How do you see this ending, Georgie?”
She angled herself away from him, and then knelt before the empty hearth.
“You’ll leave after the party,” she said. She opened the tinderbox and made a little pile.
He crouched beside her to help. “We shouldn’t leave evidence.”
“I’ll clean it up tomorrow.”
He set his hand on hers before she could strike the match to light her little pyre.
“Let me.”
She handed over the matches.
He lit the fire, warmth and orange light highlighting her profile. He added a small log to the flames and sat back. They sat in silence for a moment.
“Why were you thinking of your father?” she asked.
He thought for a minute. He didn’t talk about this with anyone, but she deserved the truth. They were already marching down an unknown path.
“To remind myself what I’m doing here. To keep myself from going too far with you.”
He felt her gaze as she glanced at him.
“You already said enough on that subject. I understand.”
“But I’m still trying to convince myself.”
“Of what?” she asked.
He didn’t have an answer because he didn’t know for certain.
“I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you. This situation is unique, as unique as you.”
“I know I’m odd.”
He touched her hand. “It’s not you. It’s the way I feel about you.” His stomach dropped. He’d never said anything like that to a woman. He didn’t talk about feelings. Period.
The glow of the fire reflected in her eyes. She leaned toward him, holding his stare. His heart pounded.
“I know what you mean.”
He released a pent-up breath. “You do?”
“I’ve never felt this way either. I can’t stop myself from wanting things I know I shouldn’t want. It’s like racing toward the bluffs. I know there’s an edge, a point where the ground will disappear. I know there is a drop and jagged rocks below, but it feels so good I can’t stop.”
“Yes,” he whispered. She understood. Dangerous and yet addictive.
He swayed closer, and her lips were tantalizingly plump. His panic ebbed, and his heartbeat steadied, pumping heated blood to all parts of him but mainly to his groin as he studied her lips.
She licked them, and they shined in the firelight. He nearly groaned.
“Kiss me now,” she said.
He swallowed, burying his worries for now, and a tidal wave of need and fierce longing crashed through him. Their mouths came together, hungry but slow and careful. She scooted closer and he wrapped one arm around her hips under her cloak. He could feel the heat of her skin through her thin cotton nightgown. The lightweight fabric so delicate to his rough hand, he thought he might rip it. He imagined tearing the garment from her body, and devouring her in the firelight, taking her on the thick padded carpet while she moaned his name.
He reined in his mind, nearly shaking with desire now.
She came up to her knees and pushed his coat from his shoulders.
He shucked it off and tossed it away. He came up to his knees and cupped her bottom, bringing her hard against him so she could feel what she did to him. He undid her cloak and flung it away, molding her hips and body to his as she gasped his name and her fingers dug into his hair.
He gathered her nightgown up, dipping his hands between her thighs as she rolled her hips against him,
touching the hot slick velvet of her core. She shuddered in his arms, her head falling back.
He wanted her so damn much, he could imagine sinking into her sheath, feeling her climax around him. He bit his tongue. He yanked up her nightgown, pulling it over her head and it too disappeared into the dark shadows untouched by the light of the small fire. He bent to kiss her neck, trailing licks to her breasts until he could reach her nipple. She gasped, her nails digging into his scalp as he sucked her breast into his mouth, teasing the pebbled peak with his tongue. He moved to the other and she cried his name. He drove his fingers into her, her legs parting and her hips twisting. He groaned as he lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist and grinding his arousal into the soft crevice of her body.
“Yes,” she cried. Meeting his thrusts, rocking against his hardness.
His thighs shaking, he wanted to rip open his breeches and drive into her heat, but a small speck of reason still held him in check.
They’d come here to do something else. She wanted to kiss him as intimately as he’d kissed her. The thought of her mouth on his cock was enough to cool his ardor and cease the pounding demands of his body. He took control again and focused on her needs, on giving her a shattering release before he took his own. He gripped her hips and moved her against him, up and down, rubbing the head of his cock against her pleasure center. She tensed in his arms, clinging to him, her face tucked into his neck.
He relentlessly continued the movement until her whole body stiffened and she cried out, her body going slack in his hold.
He unwrapped her legs, and she found her bearings once more, resting on her knees against him.
“What about you? You said you’d teach me.”
“We’re not done yet. I never leave a woman unsatisfied. You will always come first, and then me.”
She licked her lips, her eyes dazed as she leaned back in his hold.
“I’m ready.”
“You’re sure?”
“Show me how to drive you mad, how to make you weak with need.”
He raised a brow. “You already do that to me.”
“No. I want more. I want to see you shake like I do.”
He was already shaken. She’d moved the earth under his feet long before now.
He took her hand and pressed it to his shaft. He was so hard his breeches were stretched tight over his erection, blunting her touch.
He slipped the buttons free as she watched and lowered the flap. She reached out without hesitation and touched him.
“You’re not scared?” he asked.
She shook her head, her gaze intent on him. He wrapped his hand around hers and showed her how to touch him. She learned quickly, taking over, sliding her hand up and down and over his swollen head.
Gavin gritted his teeth and sank to his haunches. He might die from her touch, curious and enthusiastic as it was, but he’d die happy.
She sank to her haunches also and bent close, her breasts temptingly close. She hadn’t even blinked when he’d removed her nightgown. She was fearless. He didn’t know if that was a good omen or bad.
“What else do I do?”
“You’re doing enough,” he groaned, his jewels tightening.
“No, you said there was more. Kissing, licking, and such.”
His chest tightened. He couldn’t take much more. He exhaled and put his hands on hers. “Give me a moment.”
He stood and brought a chair close to the fire where she would stay warm. He sat and laid a pillow at his feet. She instinctually kneeled on the pillow and reached for him.
“Wait.”
She paused and met his gaze with a smile. “Scared?”
She had no idea how much.
“You can stop anytime you want. You don’t have to finish me.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Tell me what to do.”
“Do anything you like. I am at your mercy.”
She grinned. “I like the sound of that.”
She leaned over his lap and took hold of him. Her touch was steady and confident as if she already knew what she was about. She bent close, her breath fanning the sensitive skin of his head. He closed his eyes, his hands reaching for her breasts. He cupped her, softly pinching her nipple as her mouth opened over his cock and she moved her hand up and down. He slid one hand into her hair, near the back, not the top. He didn’t want her to feel like he would push her down on him, choking her.
She slid her mouth down and up, following the movement of her hand and then swirled her tongue over the top.
His thighs tightened, a moan slipping from his throat. She was good at this, too good for an innocent. She had a talent for pleasure, for knowing how to touch him, how to please him. His head fell hack and his hand fisted in her hair.
“Georgie…” he gasped. His breath hitched and he gripped the edge of the chair with his other hand. He fought the urge to pump into her mouth.
She hummed against him, licking and sucking, taking him deeper.
His nerve endings stretched taught and he groaned, grinding his teeth together as every muscle in his body locked and fireworks exploded inside him. He came into her mouth and she didn’t pull away, at first. He was helpless as his limbs grew heavy, his grip in her hair falling loose.
“God, Georgie. I’m sorry. I should have stopped you before.” He peeked his eyes open, worried she might be disgusted tasting his seed.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Why are you apologizing?”
“I couldn’t stop it.”
“I didn’t mind it. You taste a bit like biscuit batter that has too much flour but is still sweet.”
He let out a breath. “I…don’t know what to say to that.”
She came to her feet and draped herself across his lap. “I liked it. Now I know I how to make you tremble with need and give you the same pleasure you give me.”
“Giving you pleasure gives me pleasure,” he said. He adjusted her in his lap, wrapping his arms around her to keep her warm. He could easily fall asleep like this. Holding her, keeping her close all night.
She yawned. “Likewise.”
His thoughts troubled him, but it grew harder and harder to quiet them. The closer they got, the more difficult it became to keep his head clear, to remember why he’d built his walls so high in the first place.
He stared at the fire, the log nearly consumed, the flames dying. Time was not on their side. He relished the weight of her sated body on his for a moment more, committing the moment to memory and then gave her a little jiggle.
“We have to go.”
She mumbled something and burrowed into him. He kissed her brow.
“Would you like me to carry you to bed?”
“Yes, please.”
He chuckled, but his heart clenched. He’d never see her in bed, naked or otherwise. He’d never know what she looked like, fresh from sleep, her skin soft and warm. “Up with you now.”
She came awake and he helped her to her feet, redressing her and tying her cloak around her shoulders. He walked her to the back stairs and they parted ways.
Returning to the parlor, he smothered the glowing coals and brushed the ashes into a pail. He took the ashes to his room and dumped them into his own hearth. He stared at the fire, running a hand through his hair.
He was losing this fight. Caring more than he ought, feeling more than he ought. He couldn’t trust himself to remain distant any longer. But he was at a loss for what to do. There was no going back; he was in deep and digging himself deeper.
Chapter 14
Georgie twirled the sea foam green ribbons of her best bonnet around her fingers until her fingernails turned white. The sea breeze tangled her skirts around her legs as the guests of Selbourne Castle rode or walked toward Kirkland manor to join Lady Kirkland’s garden party. Her ladyship had been hosting her own house party for the week, and to please the dowager duchess, allowed the two parties to merge for a day.
Georgie was under no illusions about
Lady Kirkland. The woman scorned them for their low status, despite their neighborly existence for generations. Rarely was a Marsden welcomed at Kirkland gatherings. Her sister, Bernie, spent the most time there having a strong friendship with Lord Chester, despite his mother’s wishes.
But Georgie had never ventured beyond her corner of Northumberland. She could count on one hand the number of parties she’d been invited to.
Her heart in her throat, she followed her sisters into Kirkland Manor and out to the back gardens, where tables and tents had been set up on a perfectly flat green lawn. Was each blade of grass hand trimmed and measured? All the plants, blooming flowers of every color were contained in neat stone boxes bordered in sand and gravel paths. The sheer perfection of everything frightened her. She wanted to muss something, kick a pebble out of place or drop a leaf on the path to make it more natural. Nature was never this perfect. It was rough and asymmetrical, hard lines mixed with soft curves. This place was so groomed she felt ugly in comparison.
Lady Kirkland made a show of introducing the dowager and duke and duchess. The guests intermingled and Georgie followed Jeanie and Lord Luckfeld to a table. He seemed to know everyone and made introductions for them. Georgie accepted a glass of flavored Champagne, relaxing as Lady Kirkland’s guests proved not to be as intimidating as the grounds surrounding them. She played lawn bowls and tasted delicate cakes with intricate lace icing. She laughed, she talked, and when she least expected it, she found herself alone, strolling those same boxed flower beds that had frightened her. Jeanie was up ahead with Josie, admiring a topiary statue. Georgie made sure no one was watching, and she plucked a leaf and let it drift to the ground.
“There,” she said.
“How dare you degrade these gardens,” Gavin murmured.
Georgie bit her lip and looked around, but she couldn’t see him. “Where are you?”
“Come find me.”
If she went straight, she would run into Jeanie and Josie, but to her left was a heavy wooden gate. She stepped to it, pressed the iron latch, and pushed. The door opened easily and she entered another world. The plants and scents were different here, foreign. The ground was moss-covered with a path of stepping stones drawing her in. She met a little wood bridge and crossed over, continuing down her path. She could hear the trickle of water, and rounding a large shrub with deep red leaves in the shape of pointed hands, the earth disappeared and the path continued as wide stones set in a pond.