Desire Me Always (8 page)

They wound their way over a worn path that had probably been carved and flattened over the years the monk had tread the grounds. There was a wild beauty about the place, unlike her home, where dense tree coverage was scarce; this place felt alive and ready to be explored.

“I didn't catch your name,” she said.

“Where are my manners? Seems my mind forgets to do the obvious things at times. I'm John.”

“And how shall I address you?”

“John will do well enough, madam. I'm a simple man with a simple name—no more, no less.”

“You should know, John, that you make an excellent walking companion. My only regret is that I will be going back to London the day after tomorrow.”

“Since Mr. Riley bought that old manor house, I imagine our paths will cross again in the near future.” The tone of his voice never changed, so perhaps she'd read too much into the way he looked upon her when it was revealed she was married to Nick.

“They will indeed. And I look forward to those future walks.”

A small cottage came into view after about five minutes. Smoke curled out of the chimneystack. The cabin was a single-story building but strong and sturdy, with a stone base and thatched roof.

“Do you live here on your own?”

“There is another from the old parish, but he can't get around like he used to. I fear his days are few and that he'll soon be gone from this world.”

Amelia frowned. A sad situation for the other member of the parish, but not one she could assist in. “I'm sorry to hear that.”

“It's God's way, madam.”

A vegetable patch was dug up in four neat rows at the front. A fence had been built around the garden to keep out the larger animals that might scavenge through it. Bells were tied on poles, probably to keep out ravens and the like. Amelia set the basket on a workbench that was tucked up against the cabin.

“I will try to see you tomorrow, John. Perhaps my husband will join me and you can ask him all you like about Caldon Manor.”

She wasn't sure Nick would appreciate what she'd done or if he'd be angry with her for approaching this man. He had forced her to seek out her own answers to the questions he created.

“Until we meet again, madam.”

“Enjoy the rest of your day, John.” With that, Amelia turned and walked past Roberts and toward Meredith, who happened to be holding out the reins of Amelia's bay horse.

“Upon consideration,” Meredith said, “I seem to have been fairly rude. I sincerely apologize for my behavior. I only hope you can forgive my desire to protect my husband.”

Roberts assisted Amelia in mounting her horse.

“You befriended me. Now I can't help but feel it was out of pity.” Amelia clucked her tongue and turned her horse. She wanted to be back at the inn and out of Meredith's company. She did not hold a grudge toward the woman; quite the opposite, in fact. Had Amelia been in Meredith's position, she'd likely have done the same. More than anything right now, she wanted to reflect on her meeting with John and whether Nick would be angered by her boldness or thankful for the information she'd found out.

“Please forgive my earlier assumptions. Sometimes my mouth runs away from me. If you knew the hardships I had been through . . . had you been through them, you would want to protect your husband too.”

“I do understand, but you still misguided and hurt me,” Amelia said. “And you should never presume that your own hardships are more trying than another's.”

Once their horses broke through the tree line, Amelia let hers run. She could hear the pound of hooves behind her following suit, but she paid them no mind. The wind tugged at her hat and loosened a few strands of hair, but it felt good to run free with her horse and she didn't stop until she was back in the courtyard of the inn. By that time, a light mist had started. The timing for their return was impeccable.

After dismounting, Amelia approached Meredith. If she didn't stand up for herself now, she might never do so. “I did not have a lot of friends when I was young, mostly because there were no other girls my age. The other reason was that my brother was a terrible man, and I didn't want him to do to others as he had done to me. I grew up being humiliated at my brother's whim. I will not suffer the same abuse because you fear the trouble I might bring to you and your husband.”

“I did not mean—”

Amelia sighed.

“I know, and that is why I will eventually forgive you.”

She hated to be cruel, but she was sick of being treated poorly. She handed off her horse to the stable hand and walked away before Meredith could try to
further explain
or make excuses for her behavior. Saying her piece had lifted a weight from her shoulders. It felt good. Actually, it felt fantastic. She didn't look back and was sure she wore a stupid grin on her face. She wished she'd been brave enough to stand up for herself while living under her brother's rule.

O
n returning to her room, Amelia had enough time to lie down for a spell. She'd woken only fifteen minutes ago and decided it was time to make herself presentable before she went in search of her husband.

She rolled her new name around on her tongue. “Mrs. Riley . . . Mrs. Nick Riley.”

Brushing her fingers through the remaining knots in her hair—the wind had done a great deal more damage than she'd thought—she twisted the brown tresses into a chignon and started to pin it in place. She needed something quick and simple so she wasn't late in meeting her husband and Huxley.

“Mrs. Nicholas Riley,” she said to her reflection in the cheval mirror. It still didn't feel quite real, addressing herself as such, and it led to a certain amount of giddiness that she was even a married woman. And married to a man she loved.

“Only my mother ever called me Nicholas.” Nick's rich baritone voice came from the door that adjoined their rooms. His presence startled her, making her jump a little on her chair.

Amelia's eyes searched for Nick's in the mirror. She was slightly embarrassed to be caught contemplating how she should be addressed aloud. However, the sensual rasp of his voice shot a twinge of awareness right to her core.

Well, that reaction was unexpected. But then, her good mood hadn't abated since standing up for herself.

“Has Huxley arrived?”

“He sent a note to say he was behind schedule. Stopped to help a carriage that got stuck in the mud.”

Amelia focused on her hair again, thinking all sorts of wicked things they could do with their time. “What a shame. However will we occupy ourselves?” Swiveling around in her chair, she faced her husband.

Nick was without a shirt and his trousers rode low on his lean hips. The muscles on his chest and stomach flexed and rippled. Her cheeks flushed, and her nipples beaded tightly beneath her dress. A towel was tossed over his shoulder, and droplets of water held to his beard.

“So I should not call you Nicholas.”

“My mother said it was a name that would allow people to take me seriously. A name that was strong, one to which others would listen and respect. It was also my father's name.”

“Your mother named you well. And after a saint.”

“I can promise you I'm no saint, love.”

She laughed, her gaze traveling the length of his strong form. Not a saint, no, but certainly next to godliness . . .

Staring at him, half-dressed before her; she dreamt only of being in his arms. She wanted to forget that they had important matters to discuss.

Amelia stood. “Yet you will certainly have me screaming for the Lord before we leave this room.”

Nick strode toward her. “Is that a promise?”

She sucked in her bottom lip, nodding, desperate for his touch but not willing to make the first move. Nick turned her to face the mirror again and took the hairpins that were in her hands to finish securing the decorative twist of her hair. When he was done, her head rolled back to rest in the crook of his shoulder.

“Didn't you need to discuss other business matters with Landon? We can't hide up here so soon after this morning. What will everyone think of us?”

“I don't give a damn what anyone thinks, Amelia. I will tell you a thousand times, there is no shame in wanting to spend a larger portion of our time together. I daresay it's expected.” His hands rested on her shoulders, and he gave them a light squeeze.

“We cannot forget why we are in Highgate, Nick. And that is to conclude business matters with the manor house and the leases you acquired in the village.”

“The house will be there later today. And tomorrow. And the week after that.”

Nick kissed the top of her head before he turned her around in his arms. The crush of her breasts against his body sent a wave of awareness right down to her nether regions. She would never get her fill of Nick. He made her insatiable. He made her crave intimacy constantly. He made her want to lounge about all day in a make-believe world where only the two of them existed for nothing more than mutual pleasure.

She stared into his steady gray eyes. They were solely focused on her, his pupils enlarged. It was hard to miss the heavy, thick bulge of his penis that she could feel through all the layers of her skirts. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed harder against him, wishing she were underdressed too.

Nick didn't waste a moment in divesting her of some of her clothes. He started with the ties on her skirts and then removed her bodice with quick precision. She was down to her chemise in record time.

Her lips parted on a small huff of air. His mouth was just out of reach, their breaths mingling as the tension between them grew thicker. It was a tease, to see who could hold out longer. Her eyes were half-lidded; her tongue flicked out to taste her lips and suck in her lower one as she gazed at the sultry, sexy look Nick gave her.

Her body burned with need and her veins pumped liquid fire to every nerve ending in her body. She was hot with an excitement so profound that it accelerated every second she lay plastered against his skin.

“What time must we be downstairs?” she asked.

Nick walked them toward the wall he promised to take her against. “We will be late.”

His comment had her blushing from her cheeks right down to her toes. She rubbed her aching, tight nipples over his chest with every step they took backward. The friction of their bodies didn't seem to affect only Amelia, for Nick's rapt gaze was smoldering with lust, and only a thin rim of gray remained around his pupils.

“You look at me like that for much longer, and I'm going to fuck you up against the wall, Amelia.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Always,” he said before slamming his mouth against hers, his tongue sweeping between her lips as though he were devouring her, one lick at a time. He possessed her mouth as surely as he owned and controlled her body. Their teeth clanked; their mouths sucked and drew hard on the other.

One of his hands skimmed possessively over her lower back. “The thought that I almost lost you is what makes me want to keep you locked away in this room forever. That you were lost to me for as long as you were . . . ” His hand lowered more, squeezing one of her buttocks through her dress. “My need for you grows stronger every day.”

She tilted her chin up, staring into his steady, strong gaze that had lost some of its playfulness. The resolve in those smoky depths was enough to cause her heart to skip a beat. “You saved me, Nick. No one else. Just you. And you haven't lost me. You won't. We were meant for each other. And now we are promised for a lifetime together.”

“Still, I should never have let my guard down when I knew I was entering a hibernating bear's den with you at my side. I was tempting Shauley to do me damage. He knew, Amelia; he
knew
how to hurt me most.”

“I'm safe now. And it was you who saved me. We can't predict what will happen in the future. Let us just take one step at a time.”

Nick pulled her arms down from around his neck and lightly clasped her wrists between his hands. His thumbs stroked across the faded bruises from where she'd been bound and unable to protect herself when the detective and Shauley had kidnapped her.

“None of that matters now,” she whispered, sliding her hands out of his grasp.

Amelia caressed the side of his bearded face. She loved how the scruff lightly abraded her skin, and she suddenly wanted it rubbing against her in wicked, sensual places. A half sigh, half moan fell past her lips.

“It will always matter. You are all that matters to me, Amelia.”

Nick's fingers nudged her chin to the side, and he leaned closer so he could press his lips against her neck. He trailed those kisses along her throat, firing her pulse to a faster tempo. Amelia melted into his embrace, every soft contour and curve of her body molded against his immoveable but not unyielding frame.

She didn't want to go down to dinner any more than he did, and she surrendered to his touch, his slow seduction that ate away at the last of her resolve to meet their traveling companions.

“Nick,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

His fingers stretched over the other side of her neck. She leaned into his gentle touch, exposing her throat to the ministrations of his tongue and lips and teeth. Her hands threaded through his hair, tangling in the thick black strands, pulling him harder into her body. They were both breathing heavily, and a trickle of sweat beaded across her lower back beneath too many layers of fabric that hindered their progress.

Both of Nick's hands slid down the sides of her body, gathering the chemise at her thighs, holding the material there. Lost in each other's arms allowed them to forget all the terrible things that had happened. Allowed them to just
be.
She could forget the niggling feelings she had, the questions that constantly bombarded her about her new husband.

She shouldn't be letting this happen. She should step away, tell him what she'd learned today, but she never felt so close to Nick as she did when they were intimate. And that might be selfish of her to want the feeling of perfect bliss that came from their lovemaking, but it also filled her heart to brimming when she had him all to herself like this. It made her feel whole.

When his hands reached the bottom trim of her corset, a yearning of fulfillment clouded every one of her senses.

“Can't wait,” she uttered.

And Nick maneuvered her against the wall, lifting her in his arms so she could wrap her legs around his hips. He managed to work his trousers down his hips and free his cock, which stabbed into her sheath a moment later. They both groaned on being joined. Nick raised his hand and tore away the chemise where it covered the top swell of her breast. The very edge of her areola peaked out above the edge of her corset. Nick slipped his tongue between the material and her breast, rolling over her hard nipple and sucking above the binding that kept it hidden.

“Hold on,” he growled against her wet nipple. And she did while he tore more of the material aside and lifted one breast above the corset.

Her hands were tangled so tightly in his hair, and her arms were so locked around his neck that she wasn't even sure how he worked in and out of her while doing all that. Their movements were shallow, jerky. Desperation stole over them both so that they moved faster, sweat slicking their skin where they were crushed together. Nick's hips rotated, his pelvis moving in a way that he hit her in just the right spot. And unbidden, and faster than ever, her body crested, the sensation flooded through her so fast she bit Nick's shoulder to keep from screaming with her release.

Nick's body was unrelenting and unforgiving then. He pounded into her so hard she was sure her back would have bruises where the bones of her corset pressed hard into her skin. He came shortly after her, his motions jerky with each pump of his seed inside her. He slowed, released her legs, and let her lower her feet to the floor.

Neither of them said anything for some minutes as they caught their breath, holding on to the moment as they stayed in the circle of each other's arms.

That was when reality came crashing to the fore. Her afternoon with Meredith, the falling out, the monk . . .

Her escape into the perfectness of intimacy was too short-lived for her liking.

She pushed against his chest, forcing him to back up a step and give her room. Her breath still came out in short pants, and her body trembled from the exertion and from the aftermath of pleasure. “I didn't mean for that to happen quite like that.” But was that even the truth?

“I'm glad the afternoon started out on that high note.” He pulled up his trousers, though he still looked deliciously disheveled. She wanted to run back into his arms and forget the world around them.

She gave Nick a small smile as she loosened her corset and walked past him. She had to change into a new chemise. “Joking aside, we do have important matters to discuss.”

Nick lifted his head and gave her a measuring look. “Sounds ominous.”

“First, we need to set clear boundaries. I agreed to live with you, learn your various businesses, and be your secretary. I agreed to those things long before I agreed to be your wife. The way you went on at lunch . . . I thought you meant to not include me anymore. And I won't have it.”

“I didn't intend to cut you out. You are a part of my life. And I would trust no others to do what you do for me.”

Nick walked away from her to pick up his shirt where it hung over a chair. He rolled his shoulders, drawing her attention to his scarred back. Every time she saw it, she felt a stab of pain overtake her. She wanted nothing more than to comfort him when he exposed that vulnerable part of himself to her, to hold him, care for him.

“Then why are you already cutting me out of the business with Caldon Manor?”

“Do you really need to ask that?”

“Frankly, I do. If you find my involvement important to your business, this is not something from which you can exclude me. I have a vested interest in seeing this particular venture succeed. But you have been more secretive than ever since we arrived. More secretive since you rescued me from the hands of two madmen.”

“There are some things better left in the dark.”

“There are not!” Her voice rose, her ire getting the better of her. “The less I know, the more danger I might be in. Don't you see that? Didn't my kidnapping prove that?”

Nick scratched his hand through his hair, mussing it more, his expression perplexed. Surely he knew he was losing this argument. “The less you know, the easier it is for me to protect you.”

“Your logic is skewed. And it hurts me that you won't be completely forthcoming and honest with me, when the opposite is expected of me. When it comes to your sharing the full truth, you balk. You run. You avoid it at all cost . . . it's infuriating.”