His firm, well-molded lips captured hers, and she was kissing him with a desire she didn’t know she was capable of. Flames burned under her skin. Her palms caressed his strong chest. Her fear slithered away. There was only him as he placed open-mouthed kisses on her neck and throat before moving over her bosom.
One thumb ran lightly over her nipple, and she arched up. More, she wanted more. He chuckled. His mouth closed on the other nipple and lightly sucked. This must be the most exquisite sensation she had ever experienced. Another high-pitched sigh came from somewhere, and longing coursed through her veins, pooling between her legs.
Oh, please do that to the other one as well.
As if he’d heard her, Huntley switched breasts. This time, Caro knew the sounds came from her. Her voice was low and breathy. “Oh, that feels good.”
His lips left her bosom, and he covered it with his hand, rasping the wet muslin against her nipples. “I’m glad you like it.”
As he blew on one nipple, it furled into a tight bud before he took it and her chemise into his mouth again. The fire coursing through her threatened to ignite. How much more could she take before she exploded?
Her fingers gripped his neck. More, she wanted more of him. One of his hands kneaded her bottom and the other held her head. “More.”
Had she really said that out loud?
He groaned, and the ribbons of her chemise gave way and slipped down. Huntley’s teeth grazed a breast, and Caro found herself holding his head to her bosom as he sucked. He rubbed and twirled her other nipple between his fingers. Now she knew what he’d meant when he told her she’d scream with pleasure. That she would desire him.
Caro wanted to give him everything he wanted, all of herself. What was more amazing was she wanted him and all he could give her. She hadn’t known it could be like this. He was torturing her. Her body sang with desire as he kissed his way down her stomach. All the spots of tension seemed to coalesce in her mons.
Her hands clenched the pillows and she brought her knees up and squeezed his shoulders. When she tried to cry out, her breath was gone and the spiraling tension threatened to overwhelm her. In the next instant, the most wonderful feeling came over her and she shook from the inside and shattered.
Still she knew there was more. Huntley had been caressing her, pleasuring her, for days and taken nothing for himself. She’d seen his tension as he held back. “Please make love to me.”
He slowly kissed his way back up her body and gazed into her eyes. “Only if you’re sure.”
His gaze burned like the blue flames of a fire flecked with gold. If she was ever going to put the past behind her, this was her chance. She could dream of him instead of the other. “I’m ready.”
Taking her lips in a deep caress, she barely noticed his fingers enter her. They slid in and out, causing the fire to light again. When he moved over her, she tensed for the pain, but there was only a stretching and wave upon wave of delight as she reached for the explosion to take her again. She grasped him with her sheath and cried out.
Her heart swelled with happiness. For the first time since the attack, she was whole again.
Caro’s skin flushed with desire and her breath came in short pants. Huntley needed to erase all her fears and doubt. Teach her how much pleasure he could give her. Capturing her mouth, he languidly stroked her tongue as he ran his hands under her breasts and down her body, pushing her chemise lower with each caress.
Moving over her, he’d kissed her long neck and her creamy mounds. When he got to her still too flat stomach, he paused and glanced up. Caro’s head was thrown back, the tip of her tongue licked her lips. Moving slowly over her nether-curls, he caressed her with his mouth and almost shouted with joy when she pushed her hips up to him. Circling the small pearl nestled in her curls, he inserted a finger into her wet silk. She tossed and writhed as he drew out her tension before he entered her hot sheath. One last flick of his tongue, and she convulsed around him.
She’d tensed when he rose over her. Knowing she’d expect the same pain as before, he entered her slowly, keeping himself attuned to any discomfort she might have. Then she relaxed and accepted him. He used a slow, even pace until she quavered around him and brought him to completion.
Finally, she was his.
He kissed her lips and cheeks. Wet? Why was she crying? “Caro, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing. It’s all wonderful.”
He held her face gently between his hands. “I hadn’t planned . . .”
She smiled and put her fingers over his lips. “It was perfect. I could not have asked for more. No matter what happens now. Well, what I mean is, whatever we decide to do. It will be fine.”
What in damnation did she mean, whatever we decided to do?
Women!
Why did they have to be so damn difficult?
CHAPTER 17
A
shard of weak winter light stole into the chamber. Caro relished the feel of her husband’s strong arms around her.
Her husband
. It was the first time she had truly felt that he was. What the future would bring, she didn’t know. Yet, for the first time in years, she had hope for a normal life. One with love and children.
Huntley stirred. His hand caressed her breasts and wandered down over her stomach. His breath feathered her jaw. Sighing softly, she gave her neck over to his lips. She never would have believed that she’d welcome a man’s touch. The curling hairs of his chest tickled her back, and she resisted the urge to turn and run her palms over his muscles.
Then his fingers reached between her legs and stroked, focusing all her attention on his caress. She sighed. “Oh, Huntley.”
“Gervais.” His voice was a low rumble, as if he hadn’t awakened yet. “I want you to call me Gervais.”
“Gervais.” She tested the name on her tongue. It felt right. “Who else calls you that?”
“Only you.”
She wanted to think about what he’d said, but his fingers slipped into her already wet sheath and she moaned. Every nerve in her body was focused on the apex of her thighs. His hard erection slid between her legs, rubbing her sensitive place, adding to the sensations. She encouraged his fingers deeper.
Huntley-Gervais’s voice was low and rough. “I want you.”
The tip of his shaft hovered at her entrance, waiting for her answer. “Yes.”
Unlike earlier when he’d slowly filled her, this time was a sharp thrust that sent spikes of pleasure soaring through her body. He held her even tighter, and his hand never left her mons as he possessed her.
Tension spiraled up until each breath she took ended on a cry. His breathing rasped in her ear, and his body tightened. One hand gently squeezed her breast, while the other pressed in her curls. He seemed to know just what to do to bring her bliss. Her breath caught as he thrust deep within her. She wanted him more than she’d ever thought possible. Hot streaks flew through her, and she came apart. Unable to pull a coherent thought together, she slumped against him, reveling in his strength. If only she could live like this forever.
When Huntley next awoke, Caro lay limp and sated in his arms. Keeping one arm around her, he gently pushed her damp hair from her face. He kissed her neck and the curve of her jaw. His chest ached. He’d never wanted a woman as much as he wanted her. No, needed her. Whatever happened, he would never let her go. He’d show her how much she meant to him, that he needed her in his life, forever. Listening to her soft breathing filled him with a sense of peace.
“Hun—Gervais?”
“Yes, my love?”
“Is it always like this? So intense?”
“Between us, it will always be that way.” He reached back and pulled the bed hangings closed, enveloping them in semi-darkness and shutting out the rest of the world. “How are you feeling?”
Caro rolled to face him. “I feel well. Much stronger.”
Even in the dim light, her face glowed with contentment. He kissed her lips and forehead. “Caro, I . . .”
“Hmm?”
“I think if you rest now you’ll be well enough to dress for dinner.”
She smiled and turned around so that her back was once more to his chest. “I hope so. I am so tired of not being able to do things.”
He drew her closer. Sometime over the past week, he’d fallen deeply in love with her. Perhaps he was a coward for not telling Caro he loved her, but she hadn’t told him how she felt. He couldn’t bear for anything to set them back. One never knew how a woman would react. Particularly after what she’d said earlier about whatever they decided to do. His love for her, his feelings, were too new and fragile to risk. He’d wait until the time was right, after he was sure of her affections toward him.
How his married friends would laugh if they could see him now. Still, he wished for their counsel, Marcus’s and Worthington’s especially.
Caro’s steady breathing drew his attention. Her lips, still swollen from his kisses, tilted up in a smile. She was so beautiful his heart ached, and she was his, forever his. He held her tighter, as if that could stop any thoughts she may have about leaving him.
After a while, he mentally reviewed the route they’d take from Innsbruck to Ulm in Germany. He trusted Maufe would remember some of the inns at which they’d stayed on their journey to Italy.
The Fernpass was an old, frequently traveled, and well-guarded passage through the northern part of the Alps. There were many posting houses and the like that had been there for centuries. As long as they didn’t experience a heavy snowfall, it would take about a week to reach Ulm.
The door opened and someone snorted.
“This is the first time I’ve seen the hangings closed,” Nugent remarked.
Maufe coughed. “Um, yes. Well, I should probably order a tub to be set up. They will want to wash.”
“Indeed?” Nugent commented in a satisfied tone. “Well, it’s about time.” She paused. “How do you know?”
Maufe’s voice was so low, Huntley couldn’t hear what his valet said, but he knew. Huntley always closed the hangings when he had a woman. It occurred to him Caro never needed to know about that particular signal.
She stirred. “Was that Nugent?”
“Yes, she’s having a tub brought up.”
“Where is . . .?” When Caro sat up, the coverlet fell off her and exposed creamy breasts topped by light pink nipples.
Not able to resist, he reached out and cupped the one nearest to him. His groin twitched “What are you looking for?”
Long, light flaxen curls cascaded down her back and over her shoulders. “My chemise. It must be here somewhere.”
“You don’t need it.” He lifted Caro and sat her on top of him. “You are the most exquisite creature in the world, just as you are.”
A faint blush rose from her chest up her neck. “Flattery?”
Reaching up, he drew her to him. “No, truth.”
He kissed her and raised her hips up to meet his fully erect shaft. The door opened.
Damn
. “They are going to have to start knocking.”
Her face turned a fiery red, and she reached for the cover. “Do you think they’ve guessed?” she whispered.
Raising a brow, he tried not to laugh. “We
are
married.”
“Yes, but . . .” She hid her head in his neck. “Oh dear.”
Even through the sounds of the tub being brought in and water being poured, the position of her mons with respect to his groin kept him hard. If he didn’t get her off of him, he’d take her and complete her embarrassment.
Whispering in her ear, he said, “Caro, I need to move you.”
“No, not yet,” she replied in a soft voice. “Wait until they leave.” The tip of his shaft brushed her nether curls, and her head shot up. “Oh, oh, I see.”
She helped him slide her off, and he tucked her next to him. “It is remarkably single-minded.”
Though the light was dim, he could see the worry in her eyes.
“Can you not manage it?” she asked.
“Not easily.”
And not around you
. “Give it a few moments.”
Wrinkles formed in her forehead. “But if you cannot—”
“I can control whether or not to use it.” He studied her frowning countenance. “Caro, what was done to you before was not out of affection. All men can decide whether to take a woman or not. Too many decide wrongly. Forcing a woman is never right.”
Maybe someday he’d explain that some men derived pleasure from hurting women, but that discussion would not happen any time soon. He ran his fingers along her spine and down to her buttocks. Her tension eased. “Do you understand?”
She nodded. “Yes. You would never force me.”
“No, never.” He drew her down for a kiss. “I take no joy in your distress. I want you to be happy.”
He wanted her to love him.
“My lord, my lady, your bath is ready,” Nugent said. “I’ll be in the other room with Mr. Maufe when you’re ready to dress.”
The door closed. “Well, my lady,” Huntley said, “are you ready to bathe?”
Caro threw back the cover and opened the hanging bed-curtain on her side of the bed. “I need to put up my hair.”
Of course she did. “I’ll find your hairpins. I know they’re here somewhere.”
He’d just picked one up from the floor when Caro pulled her hair to one side and started to braid it. The slender line of her back distracted him.
Hell
. All of her distracted him.
“Have you found them yet?”
“Just a moment.” Turning back to his task, he hunted around the floor and found enough of the pins to keep the braid up. Clearly, he’d need to be more careful with what he did with them the next time.
Steam rose from the wide copper basin as he handed her in and followed, sinking down into the warm water. Grabbing the small piece of linen, he applied soap and turned to Caro. “Now, my lady wife. You will see just how proficient I am at washing you.”
Her eyes grew wide and her color deepened.
“I did it before, when you were ill.”
“So Nugent told me, but I don’t remember.”
Though he tried to attend to her in an efficient manner, he was clearly no good at it. He drew the linen down over her breasts, and her nipples peaked. Then he kissed her and water splashed as she came to him. There’d be a mess to clean up after this.
Hotel Vieux-Port, Marseille, France
Horatia’s plan to leave quickly was thwarted by work required on two of the carriages. She and her household spent almost a week in Marseille before the carriages were ready for travel. Captain Whitton lost no time gaining a foothold into her life. Though she must give the devil his due, he was the one who found the damage to the carriages, and he’d gone with her and La Valle when she needed to select horses that could make the trip in the easy stages she’d planned. The captain not only made very good recommendations but successfully bartered the price down. Based on his interactions with the horse dealer she suspected he was not a particularly easy man to deal with. Yet he’d not interfered in any of her decisions for the journey.
Horatia wanted to kick herself as she joined him for breakfast. Apparently his demand that she dine with him extended to all meals. Why hadn’t she paid more attention? It must have been the dimple.
She held up a list of preparations. “Have you nothing you wish to add?”
He rubbed his chin and glanced at the sheets of foolscap on the table. “No. It appears as if you’ve thought of everything.”
Narrowing her eyes in disbelief, she said, “If you’re sure.”
His eyes deepened to the color of green water near the rocks. “It has always been my desire to marry a woman who is capable of planning.”
“Humph.” She rose, as did he. “Very well then, I have matters to attend to.”
“I shall walk with you.”
As always he was beside her, prowling like a large lion stalking its prey. His hand at the small of her back guided her to the stairs. Whitton had not kissed her again, but his numerous small caresses caused her senses to flare. The touch of his hand on hers, even through her gloves, made her fingers tremble. His lips on her knuckles, fingers playing with the wispy curls against her neck, all served to encourage her errant, long-denied body to respond and yearn for what it had not had for years.
She wondered how his hard, lightly calloused fingers would feel on her breasts. Shivering, she tried to stop her thoughts. They were becoming as difficult to control as her body.
“Is anything wrong?”
When she glanced up at him, his eyes twinkled. The wicked man knew just what effect he was having on her. “Nothing, I’m just a little cold.”
A slow smile spread across his face and the dimple made an appearance. His voice was low. “I’ll remind you to bring a shawl the next time.”
Just the thought of him placing it around her shoulders made her heart race. “I must tell Risher it is becoming cooler.”
The combination of him and the heat emanating from the stone walls of the enclosed terrace made her want to fan herself. Perhaps he wouldn’t notice how warm it actually was.
Whitton leaned close to her, his warm breath fluttering against her ear. “What happened to honesty, my lady?”
He stopped strolling, and she glanced around, surprised to find herself at her chambers.
Damn. Damn the man
. Now he had her cursing. Swallowing, she glanced up at him. “What did you want me to say?”
“The truth. That every time I touch you, each caress I make, affects you.”
Her eyes widened as she gazed at him. An affair would be just the thing. Get him out of her system and go on with her life. “Perhaps . . .”
“No.” Whitton’s thumb lightly stroked her jaw. “We are not going to have an affair.”
“How did you . . .? I was not considering that at all.”
His eyes smiled. “
You
are a very poor liar. Everything you think runs through your eyes and your face.”
Her gaze dropped to his lips. He bent his head, kissing her lightly. “There’s someone coming, and we must have a care for your reputation.”
Taking her hand, he kissed it while reaching behind and pushing the door handle. “I must be out the remainder of the morning. If you need me, call my valet, Smyth, and he’ll send word. I’ll see you at luncheon.”
When he turned to leave, Horatia pressed her fingers to her lips. Oh, she was in so much trouble.
Risher pulled her into the room. “My lady, you cannot stand in the corridor moonstruck over the man.”
“I am not
moonstruck
.”
“So you say. Have you decided if you’ll marry him or not?”
Horatia threw herself down on a chair. “No. Why should I?”
“You always said if a gentleman came along who tempted you, you’d wed him.” Risher shook out a gown before folding it carefully and placing it in a trunk. “Seems to me, you’re more interested in him than you want to let on.”