Chapter Eleven

S ally felt swept up into the whirlwind, hurled high into a brilliant sky. The years of dutiful and awkward congress with Norwood – and not particularly frequent congress at that – hadn’t prepared her for this passionate storm. All she could do was cling to Charles and hope to heaven she survived the onslaught of hectic pleasure.

Charles thrust again, and she clenched around him. She loved the feeling of sublime closeness every time his body joined with hers. She curled her hands over his shoulders and tilted toward him. The change in position sparked a sizzling surge of heat.

“Come for me,” he crooned in her ear, the words escaping in unsteady gasps.

“Come?” she asked, although after the unprecedented explosion of delight when he’d kissed her between the legs, she had an idea what that might mean. His actions had seemed outlandish, until the first wave crashed through her.

Now her body tightened toward something very like that spiraling release, but what built in her was even more powerful. Perhaps because this time, Charles was with her.

The ripples melted together into a tightening coil. Through her gathering crisis, she became aware that his movements became less controlled with every thrust. The fiery, inescapable intimacy of this connection was unlike anything she’d ever known.

“Yes, for God’s sake,” he rasped, and bent to kiss her with a clumsiness that made her heart cramp. She loved knowing that this union left him shaken and vulnerable, too. She lifted her hips to meet him, as lips, teeth and tongues clashed in a passionate battle.

Charles plunged deep, and Sally’s world flared into searing white lightning.

She cried out over his guttural groan of satisfaction, and she dissolved into a cataclysm of dazzling pleasure. A gush of warmth inside her told her that he had found release. Her grip on his back tightened, as she tumbled through the fiery stars.

Through her shuddering reaction, she felt him jerk again. Then he withdrew and collapsed at her side, one powerful arm lashed around her to save her toppling to the floor.

“This chair isn’t designed for two,” she said, once she caught her breath, unsure whether her voice would work at all. Her throat was scratchy as if she’d screamed through every second of her headlong pleasure.

Who knew? Perhaps she had screamed. She’d been lost to everything but Charles’s thundering possession.

An unsteady laugh escaped him.

Curious, she turned her head to survey him. By now, her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light. He looked happy – and at peace in a way she’d never seen before. He was so handsome that her exhausted heart skipped a beat. His eyes were heavy with satisfaction. His hair was rumpled and fell tangled over his forehead. His white shirt gaped open, giving her a glimpse of his hair-roughened chest.

What a magnificent lover this secret interlude had delivered to her.

She smoothed a rich brown lock back from his forehead. “What is it?”

Amusement lit his eyes to burnt toffee. “After what we just did, I hoped I might hear something a little more sentimental.”

She frowned, even as a flood of foolish endearments and praise rose to her lips. Despite what they’d done together, she bit the words back.

Why? Shyness. Uncertainty. And the reluctant awareness that the events of their enchanted afternoon belonged only to this time and place. “But it’s not made for two.”

“No.” Something in his eyes told her that he guessed how she struggled against saying too much. “If you turn around and fit yourself against me, we’ll manage very well indeed. But first…”

He leaned forward and kissed her. A tender kiss with none of the tumultuous passion that had just transported her to paradise.

So why should this almost chaste kiss have the power to slice her heart in two?

She blinked away foolish tears and hoped the gloom hid them from Charles.

Small hope. He cupped her face and kissed her again with more of the poignant tenderness that vanquished all her defenses. “Lie with me, my darling, just for a few moments.”

Sally struggled to remember that this was a mere interlude, and once they left this house, the rest of her life waited to claim her. The rest of her life held no place for this breathtaking lover, years younger than her.

She braced herself to speak the fatal name. “But if Meg…”

“She said she’d be a couple of hours.”

“We need to talk.” But the shameful truth was that Sally didn’t want to talk. Not yet. Not ever, although she knew that was an impossible wish.

“Yes, we do.” His expression turned somber, and she shivered as if a ghost passed through the air above her. “But not this very minute.”

For a long interval, she stared into his face, tracing every inch with her eyes so that she could carve him on her heart just as he looked now. How could she deny him? He offered her an irresistible chance to linger in this golden heaven, even if just for a little while.

Trouble lay ahead, but trouble could wait.

She gave him a tentative smile, then squirmed around until her back pressed into his chest. His musky male scent surrounded her, as he drew her into the shelter of his body and shaped one possessive hand around her breast.

“I won’t let you fall,” he murmured in her ear, making her shiver as his breath brushed across her skin.

Silly girl she was, she so wanted to believe him. Which was absurd when she’d just fallen most convincingly.

But that unwelcome thought couldn’t pierce her contentment as she cuddled up against Charles. She rested in the arms of the man she loved. For now, that was enough.

* * *

Charles stirred and opened his eyes to impenetrable blackness. There was no interval of confusion or disorientation. His beloved, warm and soft and messy after their wild, astonishing, unforgettable encounter, slept with him.

He buried his nose in the soft tumble of her hair, breathing deeply of her intoxicating female scent. He felt drunk on Sally Cowan. Even in his most extravagant dreams, he’d never imagined that she’d give herself to him with such sweetness and generosity.

He had no idea what time it was, and nothing on God’s green earth could lure him away from Sally to find his coat and dig his watch out of the pocket. He felt pleasantly weary, every muscle weighted with sleep and lingering satisfaction.

After that astounding climax, they both must have tumbled into a deep sleep. The chaise, which had earlier seemed cramped, now seemed just right. Sally’s long slender body fit against his as if she’d been created to lie in his arms.

They were still dressed, at least in theory. Her skirts bunched against his thighs, and her bodice drooped to give him access to her pretty bosom. He’d managed to button his breeches before he dozed off, and his crumpled shirt lay loose around his hips.

With a stab of surprise, he realized he hadn’t even delayed to take off his boots. He’d wanted her too much to think of anything else.

He tightened his grip on her waist, and his hand curled more firmly around her breast. He loved her neat little breasts with their tight, pink nipples. Nipples that tasted like strawberries.

A reminiscent smile curved his lips, as his mind turned to coaxing Sally into another bout. Idly his thumb toyed with the pointed peak, and he bumped his hips against her bottom. His cock rose hard and heavy, eager to be inside her once more.

He still couldn’t quite believe what had happened. Amazing how a man’s fate could turn upon a sixpence. He’d started the day wanting to cut his throat because he was convinced he’d lost her forever. Now he lay crammed up against his darling, basking in a happiness he’d never known before.

What a rare, extraordinary gift that happiness was. Although the real gift was the woman in his arms.

Sally shifted subtly so her tangled hair drifted across his shoulder. Her hand rose to cup his hand where it held her breast. His smile widened, as he tilted his head to kiss the lushly scented curve where her neck met her shoulder. She smelled of crushed flowers and female satisfaction – and a trace of sweat.

She made a drowsy sound of appreciation and shifted back against him. Then startling him, she suddenly went rigid and wriggled until she broke out of his hold.

With a cry, she tumbled off the narrow chaise and ended up crouching on the floor beside him.

“Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no. What have we done? Charles, what have we done?”

He couldn’t see her face through the darkness, but her distraught voice chilled his skin with foreboding. He sat up and fumbled to touch her, but his hand met only air.

“Sally –”

“I can’t believe this has happened. It’s a complete disaster.”

Damn it. “What the devil?”

“Of course it’s not a disaster,” he snapped. The shift from somnolent contentment was too abrupt. He struggled to see her through the shadows.

“But you’re going to marry Meg,” she said, her voice cracking.

His rare temper flared, although he supposed he should have expected something like this. He surged to his feet and crossed to the window. His shaking hands took too long to find the catch for the shutters. When at last he did, he flung them wide, letting bright moonlight flood the room.

“Credit me with some scrap of honor, Sally,” he said coldly, turning back to face her. “As though I’d touch you if I harbored any intentions toward your niece.”

Sally stumbled to her feet. Despite his current impulse to give her a good shake until she saw sense, his heart crashed against his ribs at the delectable picture she presented. She might have tugged her bodice up to restore her modesty, but she still looked deliciously rumpled. Her thick mane of dark gold hair cascaded over her shoulders, and the moonlight was bright enough to reveal her full, kiss-swollen lips. “You’ve courted her for weeks.”

He ground his teeth and prowled across to the sideboard where he used the tinderbox to light a candle. “No, by God, I haven’t.”

He was almost sorry when the flame flickered into life and illuminated Sally’s expression in its full glory. She looked furious.

Worse, she looked ashamed.

Regret and frustration slammed into him, stole the breath from his lungs. What the hell was going on? He’d clearly been a complete blockhead to imagine that during these incandescent hours, they’d established an understanding.

“Don’t lie.” She folded her arms and surveyed him with angry disbelief.

“I don’t lie.” Ice edged his voice.

She dismissed his statement with a sweeping gesture. “You made a point of singling her out. For pity’s sake, you were at every event we attended. What else is that but the behavior of a suitor?”

He growled deep in his throat. “Of course I was a suitor. I was courting you.”

If he’d hoped his declaration might mollify her, he was to be disappointed. She made a disgusted sound and backed away. After their closeness, her reaction was doubly cruel. When he’d been inside her, he felt like they shared a heartbeat.

She shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”

“Why not? It’s true.” His eyes narrowed as he went on the attack. “And if you’re so bloody convinced that I mean to marry your niece, what in hell do you mean by having your wicked way with me this afternoon?”

Even in the candlelight, he saw the hectic flush that flooded her face. “You…you seduced me.”

He arched his eyebrows and watched her steadily, until her eyes flickered down and she turned her face away. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “That wasn’t fair.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

She wrung her hands like a wronged woman in a play. “I can’t explain what came over me. I must have been mad.”

“No more than I.” He shook his head and stepped forward to quiet those nervous hands. His anger receded a little. He hated to see her so tormented. “I wanted you. You wanted me. It’s purely natural that we succumbed to our passion.”

For one charged second, she accepted his touch, and he wondered if everything would be all right. Then she wrenched away. “It might be natural, but it’s wrong.”

“Why the hell is it wrong?”

“Well, let’s start with Meg.” Unshed tears shone in Sally’s eyes as she stared up at him.

He couldn’t help contrasting this stricken creature with the glowing woman who had found her pleasure with him deep inside her. Regret tasted sour in his mouth. He wanted that glowing woman back.

“What about Meg?”

“She’s set her heart on marrying you.”

Charles gave a dismissive snort. “Miss Meg is no more interested in marrying me than I am in marrying her. I’d bore her stiff within a week – if I managed to winkle her out of my stables for a conversation, that is.”

Sally’s jaw set with familiar stubbornness. “You can’t know that she doesn’t want to marry you.”

“Yes, I can.” He bared his teeth in a humorless smile. “She told me.”

Astonishment widened Sally’s eyes. “When?”

“The night you sent us off to the long gallery with matchmaking in mind.” Something that had rankled for days found voice. “Why in Hades did you shove me at your niece when you wanted me for yourself?”

He saw her consider denying his statement, but something in his face must have deterred her from another lie. “You two would be perfect together.”

“We’d be a bloody catastrophe.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Meg knows it. I know it. If you turned your sharp mind to reality instead of whatever damned lunacy is possessing you, you’d know it, too.”

“Meg likes you.”

“I like her, too. But I don’t want to marry her.” His voice turned urgent. He was watching his every hope crumbling to dust in front of him. “I want to marry you. Meg wants me to marry you.”

Anger flared in Sally’s eyes, although he knew her well enough to see that fear fueled much of her temper. “How kind of you both to dispose of my future.”

He ignored the sarcasm and dared a step closer. “I most ardently hope you’ll entrust that future to me, Sally.”

“I know you want to marry Meg,” she said steadily. “I heard you talking to Silas about your proposal.”

He made a frustrated sound. “I was talking about my proposal to you, my sweet henwit. For the tenth time, I don’t want to marry your niece. I want to marry you. Will you marry me, Sally?”

“No.” She stepped away, shaking her head in frantic denial, and this time she couldn’t hide the fright glittering in her eyes. “It’s impossible.”

“Why?” God give him patience. He sucked in a deep breath. “After what just happened, you can’t deny that we’re made for each other.”

He’d known that from the first. Why couldn’t she see that, too?

“My behavior is inexcusable, but what we did hasn’t changed my mind about not marrying again, Sir Charles.” She drew herself up to her full height and responded in a frigid voice. “Your proposal is unwelcome.”

Sir Charles again, was it? He narrowed his eyes, even as his gut cramped in instinctive denial. She couldn’t mean it. He refused to believe her.

This wasn’t the truth. He’d known the truth when she quivered around him in ecstasy, and wrapped him in her arms as if she’d never let him go.

Damn her, she wasn’t going to get away so easily. His tone turned silky. “And what if you bear my child as a result of today’s recklessness?”