Fanning the Flame (17 page)

Standing naked in front of him, she fought an urge to cover herself. The notion slid away at the hot look in his eyes.

"Beautiful," he said. "All sweet curves and high, luscious breasts." He took her hand, pressed it against the front of his breeches. She could feel his hardness, long and thick and heavy, bigger than she'd thought a man would be. He was hot and pulsing and she was the cause, a knowledge that filled her with a sense of power unlike anything she had known.

"I ache for you, Jillian. I have since that first day."

He cupped her face between his hands and kissed her, took her deeply with his tongue. A tiny moan escaped as her arms slid up around his neck and damp black hair curled around her fingers. Her heart was thudding. Her skin felt stretched tight, and the place between her legs throbbed and burned.

Adam caught her braid, slid off the ribbon that held it in place, then combed his fingers through her hair and spread it around her shoulders.

"Like fire," he said softly. "Cool silk fire."

Bending a little, he slipped an arm beneath her knees and lifted her up, carried her over to his big four-poster bed. Laying her down in the deep feather mattress, he kissed her again, nibbling the corners of her mouth, molding their lips together, sending little tremors of gooseflesh over her skin. He stopped only long enough to strip away his breeches, then he joined her naked on the bed.

In the moonlight streaming in through the mullioned windows, she could see the heavy male part of him, straining upward against his flat belly.

"Don't be afraid," he said at the very same instant that notion occurred. "We'll take our time. I'm not going to hurt you."

Her eyes moved over his broad chest, the sinews in his arms and shoulders. She wasn't frightened. Not when she heard the concern in his voice. "I want to touch you," she said, surprising him, surprising even herself. "I want to feel the way your skin curves over your ribs, the way your muscles tighten when you move." It was a bold thing to say, but the future was uncertain. Their time together could end at any moment. "I want to know what it feels like when you're inside me."

She knew only what little she had read, that his hard length would somehow fit inside her. That it was God's plan for men's and women's bodies to be joined.

"Jillian . . ." Adam kissed her as she reached out to touch him, tentatively ran a finger over a flat copper nipple, discovering the ridges the way it puckered and tightened. His muscles contracted. "God, you're driving me insane."

Then his mouth moved along her neck and across her shoulders, down to capture a breast. He tasted each one, licking the tips, making them harden, sending jolts of pleasure shooting through her. All the while, her hands skimmed over his body, exploring the muscles and tendons that flexed and moved, the smoothness of his skin, the scar over his ribs. Adam made a sound low in his throat.

Jillian trembled at the feel of his dark hand sifting through the curls between her legs, sliding lower, a long finger probing, then easing gently inside.

Her body arched upward. Dear God, she was so hot. Adam knew exactly where to touch her, how hard to press, when to go softly. Little waves of heat slid out through her limbs; delicious jolts of pleasure rushed into her stomach. By the time he settled himself between her legs, she felt ready to explode. She was writhing and moaning, begging him for . . . what? She wasn't exactly sure.

"Easy. We don't have to hurry."

Oh, but she did. She was in a hurry for something. She just couldn't figure out what it was. She felt the thick hard length of him probing the entrance to her passage, felt him begin to slide himself inside.

He paused when he reached her maidenhead and for a moment, he stilled. It occurred to her that until that moment, he hadn't completely believed her, hadn't believed she had told him the truth about the earl, but she shoved the vague feeling of betrayal aside.

"I'll do my best not to hurt you." He kissed her deeply again. "If it happens, it will only be just this once."

She could feel the tension in his body, feel how much control it took to hold himself back. His mouth moved hotly over hers, renewing the hunger, then he drove himself through the fragile barrier of her maidenhead. A sharp stinging pain had her sucking in a breath and grinding her teeth. Braced on his elbows, Adam came to a shuddering, softly swearing halt.

"Dammit, I tried not to hurt you. I—"

She stilled his words with a finger over his lips. "The pain is fading. I like the way you feel, the way you fill me up inside. As if some part of me was missing and now it isn't anymore."

He stared into her face and there was something in his eyes . . . something she wished desperately to read. Then he lowered his head and kissed her. It was a deep, drugging, sensual kiss that filled her almost as completely as his body.

The room grew hotter as he began to move, slowly at first, then faster. The air caught in her lungs. Her body began to tremble, to coil and tighten, closing around the hard male part of him that continued to stroke the walls of her passage. The rhythm grew faster, deeper, harder, until she was whimpering his name, clinging to his shoulders, raking her nails down his back.

"God . . ." he whispered, driving into her deeper still. "You feel so . . . I don't know how much longer I can last."

She wasn't sure what he meant. It was impossible to concentrate when her entire body was flaming out of control. Each thrust tightened the knot in her belly, building to a point where she couldn't catch her breath.

She moaned as a wave of sensation rocked her, the force so strong she cried out his name. Bright lights flashed behind her eyes and a sweet taste rose on her tongue. Her body shook, tightened, then seemed to float away. Dear God, it felt better than anything in her wildest dreams and unlike anything she had ever felt before.

She was breathing hard, clutching him so tightly she barely noticed when his muscles went rigid and his body began to shudder. His skin felt warm and damp beneath her hands as he slowly relaxed on top of her, and still she held on tight.

He didn't move for several long seconds. The last thing she expected was the sound of his laughter, muffled against the pillow. Adam gently took her arms and unwound them from around his neck and she realized she had been squeezing him so hard he couldn't get free.

Her face went warm with the first rush of embarrassment she had felt since they had started making love. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize . . ."

He smiled into her face. Such a beautiful smile. She wished he would smile that way more often.

"It's all right. I can still breathe. I don't think you hurt me." He was teasing. It was such a rare occurrence, her embarrassment slid away.

"I never thought it would feel that way . . . like stepping off the earth and flying through the stars. I guess it frightened me a little."

Lying on his side, he propped himself up on an elbow, his lips curved with amusement. "I don't think I've ever sent anyone to the stars before. I guess that could be a little bit frightening."

"It was also quite marvelous. For the first time in my life I understand the attraction between a man and a woman. I never really did until now."

Adam flashed that rare smile again, revealing a flash of beautiful teeth. Then the smile slowly faded. "You were a virgin. It wasn't fair, the things they said about you. You deserved a husband and family."

Now you'll never have them,
were his unspoken words. She ignored the quick sting in her heart. There was nothing she could do to change the past, and even to avoid the gossip she wouldn't have missed those months she had spent with her father's dearest friend.

"Life is hardly ever fair. As a man of the world, you ought to know that by now."

He reached toward her, lifted a strand of her hair away from her cheek. "You're right. I know that better than anyone."

The way he looked at her set her heart to pounding again. It was desire, she now knew. She hadn't realized it would return again so soon. "Do men make love more than once a night?"

His eyes instantly darkened. He came up over her with his usual easy grace, his gaze once more intense. "This man does," and he softly kissed her lips. "Why don't we see if I can send you on another trip to the stars."

Chapter Thirteen

Adam studied the woman lying next to him in his bed. It was nearly dawn, faint gray light sliding in between the velvet curtains. He had awakened half an hour ago from an amazingly peaceful slumber. He would have to wake Jillian soon so that she could return to her room before the servants discovered her missing.

Just days ago it wouldn't have mattered. He'd believed her a fallen woman and he meant to take advantage of the fact. Now, knowing firsthand that she had been an innocent, her life destroyed by malicious untruths, he wanted to protect her from any further pain.

Adam lifted a strand of dark copper hair away from her cheek and thought of the incredible night they had shared. He had made her a woman last night, yet always she had seemed so. She made love unashamedly, with a sort of greedy abandon he found nearly irresistible. She was amazingly responsive, demanding as well as giving, with a need clearly matching his own.

I
want to touch you,
she had said.
I
want to know what it feels like when you're inside me.
Her innocent bravado inflamed him in a way he hadn't expected. He'd made love to her three times last night and would have taken her again this morning if she hadn't been a novice. He couldn't seem to get enough of her. He enjoyed her body and admired her intelligence.

Yet he held no notion of marriage.

That thought had died years ago, when Caroline had betrayed him with Robert. When the women he had known were those like Lavinia Dandridge, ladies who cuckolded their husbands without the least remorse; or more recently Maria Barrett, a woman who had appealed to his darker nature and very nearly destroyed him.

Of course there were a number of good women, too. His mother and sister were angels, as far as he was concerned. But those sorts of women were few and far between and he had long ago given up finding one for himself.

Adam glanced over at Jillian. He wanted her in his bed, wanted to enjoy her intellect and her passion, but he still didn't trust her. Not completely. She was a woman and that in itself was enough to make him wary.

Still, he wanted her. He imagined peeling down the covers and replacing their warmth with the heat of his body. He imagined sliding himself deeply inside her, and instantly went rock hard.

There wasn't time, he knew, not with the gray light turning a soft pinkish gold, a harbinger of the sun that would soon be rising. Instead, he concentrated on the dilemma he faced where Jillian was concerned and thought that he had found the solution.

With her father and the old earl dead, except for a few distant cousins she had long ago lost touch with, Jillian was alone. She needed a protector, someone to treat her with care and see to her financial needs. Adam believed he was exactly the man.

Once the murder was solved and she was cleared of the crime, he would set her up as his mistress. Jillian would want for nothing and he would have what he wanted as well—a beautiful, intelligent, passionate woman in his bed. He wasn't sure how long his desire for her would last, months at least, perhaps even years. Once the affair was over, he would make her an equitable settlement and she could live in comfort wherever she wished.

And if there were children-—well, he wouldn't shirk his duties there either. It would work out perfectly for both of them.

The mattress shifted. Adam turned to find Jillian watching him from beneath a fringe of dark auburn lashes. He thought she might be embarrassed, but it was concern he read in her face.

"Last night when I came into your room, you were having another nightmare. Will you tell me about your dream?"

It wasn't the question he had expected. There was nothing of guilt or accusations, only concern. He took a steadying breath. He had never talked about the nightmares that plagued him. There wasn't any point. And yet he found himself thinking of Aboukir, feeling the memories pour into his head. And speaking them aloud seemed the only way to get them out.

"I'd been in the cavalry four years by the time my regiment sailed for Egypt."

Jillian scooted backward, pulling the sheet up with her to cover her breasts, propping herself against the headboard.

"I'd seen action by then, of course. We'd lost some damn fine men, but it was nothing like what happened at Aboukir."

He could still see the great stretches of sand interrupted by a few straggly date trees, the landscape sterile and parched, like the bottom of a barren riverbed that seemed to have no end. The ship arrived at dusk and it took all night to land the men and horses, hampered as they were by heavy artillery fire from the fort at Aboukir where the French were entrenched. Overloaded with heavy packs, sabers, and muskets, some of the soldiers lost their lives when they stepped into water over their heads, others were shot as they hit the beach, their bodies floating facedown in the tide at the edge of the sand.

"It was March, but when the sun came up the following day, the heat grinding down was unbearable. We were short of water almost from the start. Pretty soon, it was all we could think of. In the dreams, my throat is swollen and I feel like I'm choking to death."