Chapter Eighteen

F inlay's knuckles were sore, and he fully expected them to be swollen and bruised in the morn as they waited for the carriage to come around. He cared naught. The pain was worth it to beat that worthless excuse of a man to a pulp. He would have continued, too, if it weren't for Willamina stopping him.

The louse deserved so much more.

Willamina had his handkerchief and was gently dabbing at the cuts. "We need water to clean these. There is an inn not too far from here that we can room for the night. I can clean them there."

"Come here," he took control of his hands and opened his arms for her to walk into them. "Dinna fash about me. How do ye fare?"

She did as he wanted and he wrapped his arms around her as her arms snaked around his waist, and laid her cheek against his chest. He rested his chin on the top of her head while he waited for her to answer.

Her deep inhale told him more than her words ever could. The universe had opened to her this night and turned her world upside down. Things she had thought were set were not.

Her arsehole of a husband had risen from the dead. He had even hinted about her parents' deaths. Finlay didn't think he really had anything to do with them, but he would request an investigation into the matter and the circumstances surrounding their carriage accident.

"I dinna ken how I am feeling right now. There are so many things running through my head. It still doesna make sense to me. I just dinna ken what he would gain from such a ruse?"

"I, too, am uncertain." The sod clearly did not want to be married to Willamina. He had never treated her with any respect. Not once from the day they were married. So, this whole scheme seemed absolutely unnecessary.

Their carriage pulled up and he helped her inside before climbing in and sitting beside her.

"You tell me where and we will go."

He relayed her directions to their coachman and the carriage jolted forward, the wheels rambling along the cobblestone road.

Her face was solemn as she looked through the window at the houses they passed. Were they the homes of her former friends? Quite possibly so, he assumed. He wondered what was going through her mind—other than the obvious.

They rode in silence. Tension rolled off her in waves, filling the cabin of the carriage. That, he could understand. If he had just been confronted with such news, he would probably be feeling the same way. He couldn't fault her.

Instead, he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close. If anything, he wanted to show her that he was here. He wasn't going anywhere. It didn't matter what her former husband—he refused to call the bastard her husband—said or did. It wouldn't change the way he felt about her. Willamina might still not see it, but he still held out hope that she would eventually.

There was a spark there. He knew she felt that much. She solidified it when she initiated that scorching kiss in the hallway before confronting Gerard.

The passion she put forth in that kiss, that was real. One couldn't fake that reaction.

The carriage slowed before pulling to a stop in front of a three-story brick mansion, with white trim. "This the place ye mentioned?"

She lifted her head and nodded.

They entered through the door, also painted white, their coachman behind them, their overnight bags in his hands.

After securing a room for the night, Finlay requested food, tea, and wine be brought to their room, and gave the innkeeper two extra shillings for his efforts. The man nodded, a huge smile suddenly plastered on his face.

They made their way to the third floor and unlocked the door to their room. He looked around. 'Twas nice enough and would suit them for the night. A fireplace encased in brick to match the outside of the house was centered in the wall to their right. Beside it, a crate held a pile of logs and a steel poker leaned against the wall. Two chairs adorned with red cushions along with a small table between them were set in front. Two large windows with red drapes took up most of the space of one wall with a small dresser between them. A good sized bed with a plush red duvet that matched the drapes and cushions was on the other wall. Two small tables on either side. Perfectly suitable.

In the morn, they would figure out how they would move forward.

He was perfectly fine with returning to Edinburgh. He had enough estates and coin to ensure Willamina was well cared for. He didn't need Warton House. He understood that she wanted it. It was her sense of security. But he could offer her the same, without all the heartache that would come with trying to reclaim her home.

With Gerard alive, it would be a fight that she would more than likely lose. Though if she did want to fight for it, he would support her wholeheartedly.

"'Tis been a long day. I already requested sustenance, but I feel a bath is in order after the day we have had? What do ye think?"

She stood in the center of the room, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. A habit of hers that he found far too enticing. "A bath would be nice, indeed."

"I will leave so ye may bathe in peace."

She bounced from one foot to the other. "Ye needna do so," she said quietly, looking at him through lowered lashes.

Now if that didn't shoot a signal straight to his cock. She was inviting him to stay while she bathed? This was progress indeed. Not wanting to scare her with his eagerness, he nodded. "I will have two baths brought up."

This time, her eyes locked with his and she shook her head. "I dinna think there is need for two," her voice had turned sultry and his senses fired off all at once.

He cleared his throat, and nodded stiffly. "Are ye certain?" he asked.

She nodded confidently. "I have ne'er been more so."

*

Willamina knew what she had to do. And as much as her heart was saying that she needed to stay with Finlay, her mind was telling her what she really needed to do.

Though their marriage was a farce, on paper it would still have been legal. But with Gerard alive and well, it voided any contract they had made.

She wouldn't put Finlay through the scandal that would ensue if she stayed with him. She'd felt the wrath of what a scandal could do to someone and their livelihood. There was no way she would play a part in that happening to Finlay.

But, her heart was selfish.

She would leave, but in the early hours of the morning.

For this night, she was only thinking of herself. When she told Finlay they only needed one bath she meant it.

They drank wine while the tub was being filled with hot water. Her nerves were on edge, and the wine was going down smoothly and quickly. A refill of the decanter was ordered. Finally, she felt her body unwind just a bit. Her nerves settle just a tad.

With the tub filled, the maids left the room, and she and Finlay were once again alone. She bit her bottom lip, thinking of what she should do next. In her mind, she knew what she wanted to happen. If she was going to return to her loveless marriage and be miserable for the rest of her life, she wanted one night.

One night to be cherished. To experience what it felt like to be loved. This night was all about making memories that would last her a lifetime. To get her through what she would have to endure once she returned to Warton House.

Finlay had been watching her, trying to read her expressions. She hoped he couldn't read her thoughts. She didn't want him to know her plans. He would try to stop her, she was certain of it. And that couldn't happen.

Not for him and his future. Without her, he could still marry in time. He would meet another woman to make a marriage pact with and secure his title. She ignored the stab of pain that pierced her heart at the thought of him with another woman.

Because no matter how hard she had tried to fight it, she couldn't.

She was in love with the man that stood before her, looking at her with adoration in his eyes that would be forever emblazoned in her memory.

She finished her wine and gave him what she hoped was a sensual smile. She didn't have experience in such things. As long as she didn't look like a clown, she would be happy.

His beautiful blue eyes, so different from the muddy brown eyes of Gerard, flared and darkened as they clashed with hers.

"I believe the bath is calling our name," she whispered, her voice shaky. It was her first attempt at seduction and she was nervous. But Finlay didn't appear to notice.

"Are ye certain?"

She licked her lips and nodded, tracking his stare as it dropped to her mouth.

His approach was slow, as if he was giving her the option to put a stop to what they were tumbling toward at any time.

When his hands circled her waist and drew her flush against him, she gasped. She could feel him. All of him. His hands moved to her face and cupped her jaw, his thumbs feathering over her cheeks as he searched her eyes.

It felt like he was looking into the depths of her soul. She offered no resistance and he must have noticed because his mouth came crashing down on hers, his tongue demanding entry and she melted into him, opening her mouth and savoring the clash of their tongues as they performed a wicked dance. He tasted of the wine they'd consumed earlier. Sweet and tart at the same time, and she sighed.

His hands dropped to her bottom, pushing her against him. She could feel his hardness against her upper belly.

Her fingers moved from the short hair at the nape of his neck to the ties of his shirt, deftly untying them. He watched her movements, his brow furrowed, his eyes intense, his tongue peeking, and wetting his bottom lip as he inhaled sharply.

With the ties released, she pushed the shirt off his broad shoulders. His hands left her bottom and he wriggled out of the arms, letting the linen fall to the floor. She traced the planes of his muscled chest. Trailing them lower, lower, down his abdomen and the muscled ridges there. His sharp intake of breath the only sound in the room other than the crackle of the fire.

He caught her hand and brought it up to his mouth, tenderly kissing her fingers. "Much more of that, lass, and this will end a lot sooner than ye would like." His eyes crinkled with a smile, full of mirth.

Dropping to the floor, he tapped her left foot and she lifted, using his shoulders for balance, his hot skin searing her fingers. He slipped off her boot, then reached up and grasped the lip of her stocking, pulling it down her leg. He paused at her ankle and bent, placing a kiss on the sensitive skin, before slipping the material off her foot. He did the same for her right leg.

He looked up at her from his position sitting at her feet and waggled his eyebrows, causing her to giggle. Pushing off the floor, he stood, dragging his hands up her body, sending shivers from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. His eyes never leaving hers, he slipped her dress off one shoulder, then the next, and she held her breath as he pushed the material down, letting it pool at her feet.

Her cheeks flushed as she stood there before him in naught but her chemise, her chest rising and falling and his eyes, dark with desire, drinking her all in. He dipped his head and his lips scorched a trail from her ear down her neck to her collarbone, feathering little kisses along the way.

Throwing her head to the side, she gave him all the access he wanted, savoring in the feeling that was so foreign to her. His tongue licked his way up her neck and his lips found her mouth once again. As they kissed, he grasped the soft material of her chemise, gathering it up, exposing her legs, then her most private parts, drawing it up further and further, until he had to break the kiss so he could lift it over her head and throw it to the floor.

Cool air caressed her heated skin, and her body shivered. Finlay pulled back and his eyes roamed over her body, a smile of satisfaction breaking out on his face.

She smiled back. "The water will grow cold," she whispered.

"Well, let us no' let it go to waste. Shall we?" He gestured toward the tub, furls of steam still rising from the water. He held out his hand and she accepted it, allowing him to pull her to the basin. Offering his arm to keep her steady as she stepped in, he waited until she was in the water to kick off his own boots.

She waited with bated breath. She had seen him undress multiple times since they'd married, but never once had she seen the front of him. When he pulled his trousers off and faced her, she couldn't stop the smile of pure ecstasy that drew her mouth wide.

Finlay Primrose did not disappoint.

Catching her looking, he laughed as he climbed into the tub behind her, nuzzling her neck. He sat and pulled her down with him, causing water to slosh over the sides.

"We are going to make a mess," she exclaimed.

"Shhh. I shall tip them well in the morning." He nipped at her neck, causing her to shudder.

Washcloth in hand, he dipped it into the water and then dipped the bar of soap under and worked it into the small square of cloth before rubbing it over her back in slow circles. "Give me your arm."

She did as he asked and he held her wrist while he brought the cloth up and down her arm, dipping into her underarm before asking for the other and doing the same. Pulling her back so she rested against his chest, he dipped the cloth once again before bringing it up and letting it drip drops of water on her breasts.

Her breath caught and she sucked her lower lip into her mouth as he brought the cloth to her skin and drew lazy circles of suds around each nipple, drawing them into tight peaks. She blew out her breath on a sigh, and he chuckled close to her ear. "Like that, do ye?"

She nodded, reaching back and snaking her hand around the back of his neck. The feelings he was eliciting in her were erotic and nothing like she had ever felt. She would let this man do whatever he wanted to her.

A touch of sadness entered into her mind when she thought that this night would have to last her a lifetime of memories, but she shook it off. She didn't want to think about the morrow. Only the here and now.

When he dragged the cloth below the water and touched it against her most sensitive area, her hips nearly bucked out of the water. He chuckled again, and said close to her ear "not yet, love" before continuing to bathe her with deft and experienced hands.

"All done," he announced, kissing her neck. And she was glad he hadn't insisted on washing her hair. It was so thick it took forever to dry and she didn't like to go to bed with it wet. Whenever she did, she woke up with it being one big knot that took much too long to brush out. "Grab a linen and dry off. I will wash and join ye momentarily."

She spun around, causing even more water to slosh out of the tub and land on the floor. "I should pay back the favor and wash ye."

He shook his head, his eyes dark. "Nay, lass. I am strung tight as a bow right now. Your fingers on my body will put an end to this much quicker than I want."

She flushed, but nodded, and used his shoulders as balance to get out of the tub. He watched her as she picked up the cloth from the nearby table and wrapped it around herself, patting herself dry.

His eyes followed her every move as he quickly finished bathing. When he stood, her eyes widened. She was pleasantly surprised when he had undressed earlier, but now, he had grown even larger. She didn't think it was possible. But her eyes did not deceive her.

With a moan, she licked her lips. She couldn't help it. Couldn't stop her reaction. Grabbing the other linen, she closed the distance between them and began to pat him down. He threw his head back on a hiss.

"Mina…" he didn't say anything else. Just let her name hang in the air between them. But he didn't let her continue for long. He snatched the cloth from her and quickly dried himself the rest of the way before scooping her up and carrying her over to the bed and laying her down, his body covering hers. "I have had dreams of this."

"What?"

"Aye. From the first night I met ye in the maze, visions of this exact moment have played in my mind."

He kissed her lips. A soft kiss, not one to conquer all her senses, but yet it still had the same effect.

"Just one thing."

When she looked at him questioningly, he reached out for her hair, pulling the pins free and splaying her tresses over the pillow.

"Now this is what I have envisioned. Ye are beautiful, lass."

Quivering beneath him, she flushed. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she brought them up to his shoulders and traced his muscles, watching them contract under her touch.

With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he licked his lips before moving down her body, his tongue circling her taut nipple before tugging it between his teeth.

She gasped at the sensation, unlike anything she had ever felt before. He nipped and then licked away the pain before moving to her other breast and giving it the same attention, his hand kneading the one he'd left, flicking his thumb across the peak.

She shoved her hands in his hair, biting her lip as her core heated in want, jealous of the attention her breasts were receiving. Lifting her hips, trying to hint to him that she wanted him there.

His laugh against her breast caused the most delicious sensation and she called his name. "Fin," she whispered, her voice sounding odd to her own ears.

Lowering himself even further, he swirled his tongue around her navel, and trailed kisses down further, to her damp curls, blowing on them and making her squirm. He hitched her legs on his shoulders and drew his tongue down her slick crease, lapping at her soft folds.

Her hands fisted in his hair, her hips rising to meet every thrust of his tongue, her breaths coming in whimpers.

When he sank his finger between her folds, she gasped. When he added another, and then another, pushing them in and drawing them slowly out, she wanted to cry. The feeling so divine, so all-encompassing, that she thought she would lose her sense of mind. And when he sucked her little bud of pleasure into his mouth, her world shattered into a million pieces. Her body taut, her breath coming in gasps, she saw stars. The universe was exploding around her and Finlay continued to suckle and work his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

Spent, her limbs loosened until they felt like custard. Her bones were gone. They'd disappeared.

And then Finlay's face was in front of hers, eyes dark with desire, a bright smile plastered on his face. He dipped his head and captured her mouth, and she opened hers, giving his tongue entry. She could taste the tang of herself on his tongue and she deepened the kiss, pulling his head down to hers even more. She wanted to be swallowed up by this man.

His manhood lay heavy on her stomach and she closed her fist around it. Finlay's body jerked in response and he broke the kiss, resting his forehead on hers, panting heavily.

Settling between her thighs, she involuntarily stiffened. This position she was familiar with.

Sensing something was wrong, he pulled back, his eyes imploring hers. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, refusing to let Gerard taint this memory in any way. Finlay was not Gerard and he would never do anything to hurt her. "'Tis naught." He didn't look convinced, so she brought her lips to his, stroking her hand up and down the hard velvet of his cock.

"Ye shall be the death of me, lass," he whispered when he broke the kiss.

As she gave way to the sensations of feelings she had pulsing through her body, she relaxed.

In one swift move, he entered, taking her breath away. There was no pain, only the exquisite feeling of fullness, and then the feeling of emptiness, longing for more when he pulled away before pushing back inside. He continued that excruciating torture, her senses building and building. Climbing the highest mountain to the peak, and right before she toppled and fell over the cliff, he hastened the pump of his hips, his breath hot in her ear, his pants an erotic song she wanted to listen to for the rest of her life.

And then she fell, floating on air as her limbs stiffened and his name escaped her lips in a cry of passion. He followed suit just moments later, grinding out her name as he ground his hips against her, burying himself as deep as he could, his body spasming right along with hers.

She was having a hard time catching her breath. Coming down from the exquisite journey he had just taken her on. Her chest heaved against his.

"I love ye, lass," Finlay said as he collapsed beside her, dragging her with him so she could rest her head upon his chest.

She couldn't get herself to say the words, even though she knew she loved him, too. If she said them, it would make it that much harder to leave in the morn.

His heart beat a crazy rhythm under her cheek as his fingers drew lazy circles on her back, making her shiver. Reaching down, he pulled the duvet up and covered them.

Tucked into his side, she felt safe. As if no one could break in and ruin their sanctity. If only that were true. But knowing it wasn't, she knew what she had to do. She would be forever thankful to Finlay for these memories. She'd never experienced anything like them, and knew she never would again.

He had no idea how much that meant to her.

The night was still young, and she wasn't ready to stop now. Not now that she knew how pleasurable the act of lovemaking could be. Nay, she'd had a taste and she wanted more. She deserved it after all she had been through.

The universe owed her that much. Owed her all the memories that they would make this night.

Because in the morn she would be gone.