Emily French (16 page)

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Authors: Illusion

BOOK: Emily French
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The door was flung open.
“Where in the devil have you been, Sophy? I’ve been...”
Sophy let out a discreetly quiet scream, closed her eyes and swayed convincingly.
“Sophy!”
Quick footsteps. Silence. She opened her eyes.
Arms braced on either side of her legs, her husband looked up, a strange smile coming easily to the hard mouth. A smile reminiscent of glittering, secret amusement. It was as if he could read her mind! He tilted his head curiously. His voice was level, baiting.
“What is it that is so important my little wife must risk life and limb to read?” One band reached up to pluck the leather-bound volume from her nerveless fingers. Gravely, he studied the engraved leather binding.
“Hmm. Mr. Deslandes.
Manhood: the Causes of Its Premature Decline with Directions for Perfect Restoration.
” He grinned suddenly in open challenge. “Your taste in literature is execrable, Sophy. I should have thought you would at least be studying some learned text on mathematics, or even John Stuart Mill’s
Essays on Marriage and
Divorce
.”
His smile sent Sophy’s senses spinning. Her toes curled. Warm, sensual, candid, it banished the cynical, hard, tense lines that had made him seem so frightening. He looked, for the first time since she had known him, young and carefree.
Sophy took a deep breath and pulled her scattered wits back into order. She smiled down into his upraised face.
“Such reading is too domesticated. I prefer the tales of Poe.
The
Murders in the Rue Morgue or The Mystery of Marie
Roget!
”
Seth carelessly dropped the book he was holding. “Such stories of mystery and imagination are dangerous to an inventive mind.” He eyed the tiny silk-covered foot nearest him. It was under his nose. It was a thousand miles away.
He leaned forward and grasped one slender ankle firmly. His eyes danced in the morning light. “Are you flirting with me, Sophy?” His fingers began a slow massage of the sole of her foot.
There was a smothered sound from Sophy. Immediately, she knew he was trying to rile her again. She clung to the rail, and tried to draw her foot out of his grasp.
The firm grip did not loosen. The massage did not falter. She closed her eyes briefly and clenched her teeth to keep from saying what she wanted to say.
The pressure deepened. A wave of pure physical pleasure that had its origins in her toes moved through her. Excitement rippled all along her body in a massive shudder, making her hot, making her weak. Her universe condensed down to a thin corridor where physical sensation was all that mattered.
Seth watched her with unconcealed interest, tenderness in his eyes, in his touch. “I have a feeling in my bones that, if you ask me nicely, you could let go of that railing and come into my arms!” Though his insides were jumping, his smile never wavered.
Conscious now of the angle from which he studied her, the way her leg was thrust out in front of him, thinly veiled and plainly visible to the calf, Sophy skewered him with her eyes.
“What do you mean by that?”
Seth stiffened, but the smile stayed at the corners of his lips. The impish, speculative expression in her eyes told Seth that, though she was watching, waiting, poised for attack, she hadn’t quite calculated how to outwit him. It was like watching an intelligent, organized butterfly unfolding her wings and getting ready to fly off into the unknown with no thought of potential disaster.
He cocked his head to one side, and his eyes narrowed. Mixed with the air of innocent invitation and soft womanliness was an impudent spirit of mischief. She had deliberately challenged him, and his instincts prompted him to accept. He was under no illusions about her determination to change his edict.
Unless he disarmed her first. Directed all that hidden fire and seething passion where it should be. In a bed. His bed. It would be most effective for him to take the offense.
Seth released his hold on her and stood back, the barrier of his arms removed, his voice taunting. “All you have to do is ask.”
The words were soft but Sophy heard the ghost of an indulgent smile. Alert to the new and perhaps dangerous element in the atmosphere, she glanced down at him in quick assessment. He made her wary. Just his touch made her body sizzle, and her mind vaporize.
“Don’t be daft.” She emitted an aggravated little sound, and put one foot on the ladder.
It tilted precariously. Seth swore softly, something harsh and violent. Off-balance, Sophy clutched blindly at the rail for support. One little foot flew sideways. Time hung suspended for a moment before she tumbled into his arms.
Together they crashed to the floor. She landed on top of him, her head on his breast, one leg sprawled across his thighs. She blinked, dazed. It was as if she had struck a wall.
She could smell the fragrance of him. A faint essence of shaving soap, a hint of a clean, manly scent. Her pulses leaped when she heard a quick intake of breath, then felt his arms tighten convulsively around her.
His mouth was very close, his breath moving the little tendrils of her hair that had escaped their pins. He was warm and hard, and strangely compelling. She felt the taut strength in his arms and knew a sense of satisfaction. Soundless tremors racked the tensile muscles of his body. She gave an experimental wriggle. More tremors, stronger this time.
Slowly, with the most indescribably wanton sensation, Sophy brought her hands up between them, then let one hand slide down the inside of his leg. Hands of iron crushed her against his muscular body, and he buried his face in her tousled hair. His maleness rose between them, hot, hard, insistent. A suppressed sound caught in his throat.
Involuntarily Sophy’s toes curled into the material of the carpet as a warm, twisting sensation began to invade her limbs. She had never felt so helpless, so lacking in control.
The wild clamor of her body was indecent. Tremulous with her own desire, she pressed herself to him, all of her, molding her young body to his hard frame in wild, impassioned invitation, a soft battering ram against his hips.
She heard him groan deep in his chest when her movements brought the juncture of her thighs in contact with the rock-hard pulsing power of his manhood. His breath beat fast and warm upon her face, and she found herself longing to touch him with an eagerness that shocked her.
Sophy’s heart was fluttering, her fingers faintly unsteady as her hand crept up to explore the throbbing source of his potency. He shuddered convulsively at her touch.
She was horrified at her wanton behavior, the overpowering need to touch him, the pleasurable sensations running through her fingers. It was daytime. They were in the library! Her heart skipped a beat, and her eyelids trembled as she kept them shut.
Suddenly, Seth rolled over, pinning her to the floor, his knee between hers, her skirt bunching between them. He straddled her, grabbing both wrists in one hand and pulling them over her head to keep her from tormenting his fiercely burning crotch.
The fingers of his other hand flipped buttons, loops and drawstrings, laying her open to his avid eyes. He sucked in his breath, his common sense and his desire in conflict.
“Sophy.”
All the agony of his thrumming senses was projected in that single word. Seth’s free hand moved round the soft underswell of her breasts, slid over her ribs, caressed her hip, drifted down the little angle between her belly and the curve of her hip.
His touch, as delicate as a butterfly’s, as light as down, trailed in sweet vengeance over her inner thigh to the warm, wet cay of her femininity.
Sophy heard an uneven whimper, and realized it came from herself. He released her hands, allowing her to wrap her fingers in his hair, instinctively pulling him to her, unable to resist.
Seth covered her open mouth with his, aware of an explosive need rising in him. When he pushed her clothes aside and lowered his face to her breasts, a rasping sigh escaped her.
His lips touched one dusky tip gently, and his tongue swirled about it caressingly. Her entire being quivered in response as his teeth nibbled gently. There was no way he could prevent his hand finding the damp, secret core of her, pressing gently with his palm.
Totally unprepared for the flood of emotions that washed over her, Sophy stiffened, vaguely aware of some new, vital want. His palm rocked back to the heel of his hand. Her mind was reeling, her insides quivering. The sensation of fire lapping along her flesh washed over her. A fire that promised to build and build.
Her hips arched into his touch with an urgency all of their own. He kept up the motion. The knot of tension within her was growing to an intolerable degree of intensity. Her breath caught. There was a roaring in her ears, an ache deep inside her, and she felt a sweet, sweet dizziness as she hovered on the brink of a deep, all-consuming void.
Unable to bear the engulfing excitement, she jerked away from his touch, with a slight moan. “Seth!” There was a plea in her voice.
His hand stopped, but his voice was ragged, laced with desire.
“Say it, Sophy. Say it!”
She didn’t know what he wanted her to say. All she knew was that she wanted him, all of him, so badly that she was almost in tears.
“Seth!” Her voice was a ragged whisper.
He gave no quarter. The pressure of his hand began again, became more insistent. His mouth tugged and sucked at the hard little berries crowning her breasts. The soft, moist and warm feminine scent of her filled his mind. He felt ready to erupt.
Sexual climax burst upon Sophy, like shimmering light, in strong, rhythmic spasms, totally shocking and magnificent, and she quaked again and again in the aftermath, stunned by the shattering sensation.
Seth watched her, face tightly drawn, raw masculine hunger etched on his features. He knew that he had never in his life wanted a woman as badly as he wanted this one. The smoldering fire in him flamed. He pressed into her, closing his eyes and shuddering fiercely as his hands reached for his trousers to free himself.
There was the sound of the door being opened, followed by the harsh inhalation of breath as three women demonstrated their intense horror.
Seth’s eyes came open.
Sophy’s long dark hair cascaded freely in wild disarray over the carpet. Her hand lay limp, the fingers curled into themselves.
Beyond her tumbled hair, he saw the door. A jolt went through him. Aunt Ella, Tessa Fraser and
his mother
stood transfixed at the scene of total decadence being enacted on the library floor. There was a charged silence. Seth sacked in his breath.
“Mother! What are you doing here?”
At sixty-two, sparrow-thin Agnes Weston still stood straight as a spruce. Her figure, clad in strident magenta velvet and a heavy plaid shawl, remained amazingly supple. Her piercing blue eyes shone as bright and clear as the sky on a summer’s day, and only a few gray strands were visible amid the dark hair piled fashionably on top of her head. She looked down with sharp interest.
“I decided it was time to inspect my new daughter-in-law. To see what sort of woman managed to get my ever so responsible son’s thoughts out of his head into his pants.” Her voice was harsh, metallic. “I haven’t superhuman patience, even if you have. I want grandchildren.”
The edge of Seth’s mouth hardened ominously as he slowly sat up. The ignominy of his position, a position due to his own carelessness, bit deeply into him. Both as a man and a lover he had failed Sophy utterly.
There was a flash of sympathetic amusement in his mother’s extraordinary eyes when she turned her attention to the woman still sprawled on the carpet.
“I’m pleased you married someone with enough sass not to bore you out of your brain, and bright enough to know how to give me a grandchild. I expected one of those silly young virgins who’s scared of her own shadow.”
Although the words were pungent, her tone was matter-of-fact. She might have been discussing the weather.
Partially shielded by Seth’s big body, Sophy willed herself to stop shaking. The wickedness of it! Making love in the daytime,
and
on the library floor! She hadn’t meant for this to happen. She’d only meant to tease him, keep him home, where he’d be safe!
The scandal of it! Yet the wild and delicious delight still enveloped her. She gave a tiny, strangled sound.
Seth could feel the ragged tremble of her breath vibrating against the hollow of his throat, smell the hot woman-scent of her. She was quivering in his hold. A tiny wave of compassion washed over him, to be immediately swamped by a more powerful surge of emotion, one of pure male satisfaction. She was his!
Over
to you, Sophy Weston. Challenge a war
veteran, would you? See if you can wriggle your way out of this one.
Still bound in the iron chains of desire, he rose to his feet, went to his mother, squeezed her shoulder affectionately and kissed her cheek. He did not need to stoop. She was as tall as he. Their eyes cleaved together for a long moment. There was an indigo glitter in his eyes, and his features were very, very taut.

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