‘An offer she gratefully accepted.’
‘She did—but not before assuring me that she probably did only need time and that it was more a postponement than a termination. And that once my scars had healed... I demanded a mirror that same day because I wanted to know how long they would actually take to fully heal and...well...’
‘You realised they were always going to be there. How did that make you feel?’
‘Hideous. Ashamed.’ Should he tell her about the young mother? ‘Shortly after that, Eleanor bullied me into getting some fresh air. It was early. We crossed the road from her house to the empty park and we fed the ducks. A woman arrived with her son to do the same. She took one look at me and hastily covered the child’s face to shield him from the sight.’
‘Oh, Max...’ He saw tears glisten in her eyes. ‘People can be awful.’
‘It was the last straw. I suppose I lost all hope of everything then.’
‘That is always easier.’ She shot him a wry smile at his obvious consternation. A sure sign she was about to give him a swift kick up the backside. ‘Admit it, Max, giving up is always easier than daring to dream. Expecting disappointment is easier than hoping for happiness. Accepting shallow Miranda’s or that stupid, thoughtless woman in the park’s assessment of what you were gave you the excuse to give up.’
‘Are you suggesting I took the easy way out?’
‘No... I’m suggesting you took the natural path—the fragile human path first as we all do when hope seems lost—but that now you are ready and able to brave another. That is human nature, too. When we get knocked down, inevitably we have to get back up. History is peppered with examples. Would you like me to recite some?’
‘Don’t you dare.’ Now he was smiling, too. He’d just told her that he had scared a woman in a park and repulsed his fiancée and he was smiling. Clearly it was a day for the miraculous. ‘Perhaps time really does heal all wounds?’
He watched her gaze wander to the sheet covering the big mirror and seriously considered shutting her down before she dared ask what he knew she was going to, but didn’t. ‘What do you see now when you look at your reflection?’
‘I try to avoid it.’
‘I know...’ She walked towards him and held out her hand. ‘But you cannot avoid it for ever.’
She tugged him to the mirror and then ripped away the sheet, forcing him to stare at his own reflection while she gazed up at his face. ‘Do you want to know what I see?’
She didn’t wait for his answer.
‘I see a man who has survived the worst and lived to tell the tale. I see a man who put his entire crew before himself and sent every one of them home to their families alive. I see a man who is lost, but is trying to find his way again. A man who loves his sister even though she drives him mad. Who digs trenches for a peculiar stranger who he allows to trespass on his land. One who insists on accompanying a woman home to keep her safe. Who claims he wants to be left alone, but actively seeks me out. A man who can predict the weather and charm the most toffee-nosed snob into his way of thinking. Who carries a few scars that I no longer notice because I only see the hero who lies beneath them, who thinks too deeply and cares too much what others think of him.’ In the mirror, he watched her smile the same sultry smile she had allowed him to see last night after their kiss. ‘A man who wears his breeches too well and, in my humble opinion, fills his coats better than any other. Whose eyes dance with mischief. A man who isn’t the least bit intimidated by a woman who is far cleverer than him...’
‘I wouldn’t go that far...’
Lilacs and roses enveloped him before she reached out to trace the ugly disfigurement on his cheek and he forced himself not to flinch or pull away, while he anxiously watched their reflections to see if she was tempted to. Then felt humbled and elated and overwhelmed that she didn’t.
‘I see the man I want to kiss again—because his kisses are divine and they make me feel like a woman rather than an oddity. And nobody has ever made me feel like that before, Max...only you.’
It was more a whisper than a kiss, but more potent because of it. Her lips brushed over his, then slowly worked their way across his scar to his neck. Her teeth nipped his ear while her fingers wove their way into his hair and when she kissed his mouth again it was achingly soft, but bold and sensual. ‘I’ve been thinking about this all day... You... Me... All alone.’ She took both his hands and placed them on her body and the question he hadn’t dared ask suddenly blurted out.
‘Do you see a man who you might consider for ever with?’
She paused and turned towards the mirror to gaze at his reflection while he gazed at hers. ‘That depends...on what you see when you look at me.’
If she was expecting a long speech, she was about to be disappointed. There was only one answer he could give at this significant and pivotal moment, and that was the truth. ‘I see the woman I love, Effie.’
And then he saw exactly what she was feeling in the unfathomable depths of her eyes before she said the words he so desperately needed to hear. ‘Then for ever sounds perfect...because I love you, too, Max. I think I always have.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dig Day 804: you learn something new every day...
He kissed her, but this kiss was entirely different. She could feel all his emotion and all his love because he poured it all into it until she felt breathless. And then, when he stopped, she could see the passion in his eyes. The need. The absolute noble frustration.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I’m still desperately trying to be a gentleman.’ His dark eyes were serious and full of longing. The question implicit.
‘There is no need. I am not very good at playing hard to get... I’ve never really had cause to practise it. If you want me, I am yours.’
His gaze heated. ‘I can wait. I am happy to wait.’
‘I’m almost thirty. I think I have waited long enough. And I am dying of curiosity. And lust... It has been torture all day... My body feels so ripe and needy... I’ve read about it. Extensively. But reading about it isn’t like actually experiencing it, is it? And...’ Should she be admitting all this? ‘What I mean is... I have so many questions...’ He placed his finger over her lips.
‘Breathe, Effie.’ The wretch was smiling, on the cusp of laughing at him. ‘Then for the love of God shut up so I can start answering all of them.’
He kissed her again, then lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He sat next to her on the mattress and simply stared. ‘There’s something I’ve wanted to do for the longest time. Something that I’ve imagined at least a thousand times... Something I dream about incessantly... Something very, very...intimate.’ His voice had dropped to a sultry whisper. The intense and carnal way he gazed at her made her pulse quicken and every tiny nerve in her body tingle in anticipation.
‘What?’
‘I can’t explain it. I have to just do it... May I?’
She nodded and intently watched his hand as it came towards her, excited and perhaps a little anxious at the unexpected and unknown. Except it didn’t head to her breasts or her gown as she expected. It went to her hair. ‘This pencil...is the single most erotic thing I have ever seen.’ He sighed as he slowly pulled it from her hair and watched the tangled mess fall about her shoulders. ‘That’s it. I am thoroughly seduced.’
‘That’s all it took?’ She found herself laughing. ‘I’ve been worrying myself silly all day about how to go about seducing you tonight and all I needed was a pencil?’
He tumbled her back on to the mattress. ‘A pair of mismatched shoes or those fetching breeches would have worked, too—but that damn pencil has haunted me for weeks.’ His dancing eyes turned serious then and his mouth brushed over hers. ‘Are you sure about this, Effie?’
‘For once, I do not have a single nagging question in my mind.’ She t
raced her finger over his mouth and down his throat, then boldly began to undo his cravat. He stiffened, but did not pull away, and her full heart wept for him and the way the callous Miranda had made him feel.
Suddenly, he sat bolt upright ‘Perhaps now is a good time to turn off the lamps...’ Effie stopped him as he reached over.
‘I want to see you, Max. All of you. Don’t you want to see me?’
She watched him swallow and nod, saw his anxiousness and indecision and decided there and then he needed her to take the lead to help him banish his demons. She moved to sit before him on the mattress and lifted up her hair in invitation. ‘Undo my laces, Max.’
She felt his fingers fumble and smiled to herself. His nerves empowered her. If he was seduced by a mere pencil, then he was about to receive a shock. How wonderful would it be to have this complicated, damaged and intrinsically lovely man so overcome with desire he couldn’t think straight?
As the bodice loosened, she allowed it to slip from her shoulders, then stood to make him watch her send it falling to the floor. His gaze swept the length of her, then settled on where her hands undid her stays before following the tiny garment where she tossed it to the floor. The gauzy shift which went with the gown left little to the imagination. She knew that because she had thought as much as she had donned it earlier. Max’s sharp intake of breath confirmed it. No doubt he could see the dark shadow of her nipples, but in case he missed it, or was being too gentlemanly to look, she glanced down and watched his eyes follow. Watched his jaw clench. Heard his ragged breath as those eyes darkened with unmistakable desire.
To torture him, she bent to kiss him, letting her tongue leisurely entwine with his while she held his hands to prevent him from touching her. Only when she couldn’t bear it any longer did she step back and slowly peel the translucent linen from her shoulders, until her bare breasts were fully revealed, closely followed by the rest of her.
‘Oh, Effie...’ His sigh was like a benediction. His appreciative gaze like a caress. But she knew he needed to be half-mad before he fully forgot his scars and gave himself completely to her as she intended to give herself to him.
She kissed him again and lost herself in it, revelling in the feel of his hands on her naked skin. Max was lost, too. So lost he hadn’t noticed she had unbuttoned his waistcoat until she pushed it from his shoulders. Beneath her palms she could feel his heart beating, and it sped up when she began to untuck his shirt.
‘It looks like Africa... The scar...’ His voice was awkward again. Self-conscious.
‘Useful, then—for a sailor. If you ever happen to be going that way.’
‘I suppose.’ He smiled and shook his head. ‘Sometimes you say the damnedest things.’
‘I’m odd, remember. What do you expect?’
‘Always the unexpected with you.’ He lifted his arms and allowed her to drag the soft linen over his head, then held his breath.
As did she.
She wasn’t entirely sure what she had expected to see—but it wasn’t this. The muscles across his shoulders and in his arms were beautifully defined, like a Roman statue, but carved out of flesh instead of marble. The light dusting of dark hair across his chest narrowed to an arrow which bisected his navel and disappeared beneath the waistband of his breeches. Breeches which did little now to disguise the impressive bulge beneath them.
Because she couldn’t help herself, she ran her palms over his skin, feeling those distracting muscles bunch and tense beneath her touch, only because he was awaiting her judgement. She allowed her eyes to focus on the scar. It was one continuous mass which started on his left cheek, down that side of his neck and bloomed over his shoulder before petering out towards the bottom of his ribs. She trailed her fingertips across it. It felt different from the rest of him. Tighter and textured, but not unpleasant. ‘Is this the part where I am supposed to recoil in horror?’
He nodded. ‘Hideous, isn’t it?’
‘I never ever believed I would have something in common with Nelson, but I don’t see hideous. I see the bravery it took to get them and the determination it took not to allow them to kill you like the doctors assumed.’ She traced the outline with the pad of one finger. ‘And it is shaped like Africa, which is fortuitous.’
‘How so?’
She allowed the finger to follow the intriguing arrow of hair down his abdomen to the first button on his falls before smiling up at him saucily. ‘Because I’ve always found maps fascinating, but have to confess I find what’s under here more fascinating. I’ve never seen a real naked man in the flesh.’
‘Then allow me to be your first.’ Confident, flirty Max was back with a vengeance. ‘Although I must also insist I am your last.’ His hands made short work of the buttons.
‘What if we have sons?’
‘They don’t count...’ Then he cupped her cheek and gazed deeply into her eyes. ‘And while we are on the subject of children, would you like me to be careful tonight?’
Her womb seemed to sigh inside her. ‘I would prefer you to be careless... Outrageously careless.’
‘Even if it means you might have to marry me straight away?’
‘Especially if it means I have to marry you straight away. There are only two things in this world I’ve always wanted—and apparently only you have to power to grant them both.’
‘Marriage?’
‘Love—although I had convinced myself that was never on the cards before I met you. And a family. A place where an oddity like me always belongs. I actually hate being lonely, Max.’ She watched his expression cloud with sympathy and understanding.
‘That was the real reason you were marrying Rupert, wasn’t it? You wanted to belong.’
‘He wanted an heir and I wanted all the things other women—normal women—take for granted. Because I am still a woman regardless of my big brain.’
‘That, madam, I am well aware of.’ His eyes raked her naked body, the blatant appreciation in them making her skin tingle. ‘And for the record, I’ve always been aware of it. Big brain and all.’ He bent to kiss her forehead. ‘Although to be honest, and perhaps this makes me an oddity, too, but I have always found your excessive intelligence attractive. I love your mind as well as your body.’ His finger grazed the skin of her neck before tracing the outer edge of her nipple. ‘Well, all right then...’ He sat back and bent to tug off his boots. ‘Outrageously careless it is. Prepare to be ravished, Miss Naked As The Day You Were Born.’
‘How exactly do you plan to ravish me when you are still wearing your breeches?’
He kissed her again, laughing before he finally gave her a peek under those breeches and thoroughly enjoyed watching her eyes widen as she tentatively explored the shape of him. ‘It’s a bit different from the diagrams...’
‘Book learning will only take you so far, Effie.’ His voice was unsteady. Staccato. His eyes fluttered closed and he gasped as she traced the obviously sensitive tip, then he groaned and hauled her into his arms, tumbling them both back on the bed. Then exacted sweet revenge for the way she had tortured him only moments ago by trailing hot kisses along her jaw and throat and between the valley between her breasts.
Then down over her belly. His clever lips followed the path of his hands along the curve of her hip, the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, all the way down to her toes which he reverently kissed one by one before working his way diligently back up again.
She moaned aloud when he teased her taut nipple with his tongue, then practically growled when he finally sucked it into his mouth and did unspeakably wicked things to it. She could feel his hardness against her belly and instinctively moved her hips to receive it, only to hear the throaty rumble of his laugh deep in his chest when he purposely moved out of the way to deny her. ‘Not yet, love.’
‘But, Max... I’m ready...’ Her body was screaming for release. Aching for him. ‘So ready...’
‘Shhh...’ His touch whispered between her legs and she melted. So soft but so deadly, the pleasure so intense she was certain she couldn’t bear it. Yet each time she thought she might die from the wanting, he took her higher until she was begging him to take mercy on her and fill her body with his.
‘I’ve read about this...’
‘Of course you have.’ He was propped on one arm, staring down at her through hooded eyes as she writhed uncontrollably under his lazy, decadent touch. ‘And what did you learn?’
‘That it really didn’t feel this good when I tried it myself...’ She shouldn’t have said that, but she wasn’t thinking straight. Never should have admitted that because he stopped what he was doing to stare at her. Then the wholly male smile which slowly transformed his expression seemed more intrigued than amused. And aroused. Very aroused.
‘Then you should probably brace yourself, because I can guarantee this will feel better.’
And it did. He used his mouth and tongue to love her instead, pushing her to the edge of an invisible cliff which made her fists grip the sheets to steady herself and her hips buck as her body simultaneous welcomed the onslaught and fought against it. Then he was filling her. Slowly, achingly slowly, edging himself inside, kissing her mouth and her eyelids and whispering her name. Telling her that he loved her. That he would always love her.
Redeeming The Reclusive Earl (HQR Historical) Page 22