Indiscretion (24 page)

38

P
atrick knew he had to be dreaming. There was no way on earth that Anne had crawled into bed beside him and was undulating her nude body around his. He was starting to wake up from the dream, however. Rather, a certain part of his body was starting to rise in alarming degrees as the dream-vision Anne hooked her arms around his hips and sent her fingers on a very
risqué
exploration of his nether parts.

Her nipples brushed back and forth across his shoulder blades. She cradled his genitals in her small hands. Then the dream-vision Anne nibbled his neck while simultaneously stroking his rod. His stones contracted with a pleasure that was painful. He opened his eyes and stared down at the delicate fingers that were driving him wild.

"Oh, my God," he groaned, rolling over as he came fully awake. "It
is
you."

She smiled into his sleepy face. "You were expecting Mrs. Forbes, perhaps?"

"That was last night." He scratched his bare chest and drew an uneven breath. His entire body was burning with excitement.

"Lady Murray then?" she teased, her fingers still manipulating his shaft.

"You were taking advantage of me." Pleasure lit up his face. "You were fondling my sleeping body."

"Are you complaining, Sutherland?"

"Me? Good God, no. Assault me to your heart's content." He stretched back onto the bed, his body a flat plane except for the prominent ridge of muscle that rose between her hands.

"Close your eyes," she whispered. "You make me feel self-conscious."

He obeyed, his breathing uneven. He had to bite his tongue to keep from climaxing on the sheets; he hadn't been with a woman in an eternity, and Anne's mere touch was enough to melt his bones.

"I knew you wouldn't let me go," he murmured. "However, I will say the way you chose to admit defeat was a nice surprise."

"Defeat." She leaned down, her long curls covering his chest. "You just hadn't given me notice. I demand my money's worth from my servants."

He brought his hands up to her hips and rolled her beneath him. "Admit it." He kissed the tip of her nose. "I won."

"No."

"No?" He arched his brow, nudging her legs apart
as easily as if he was separating the fragile wings of a butterfly.

"Well. No."

He brushed his mouth back and forth across hers, stopping only when she was breathless. "No?" He grinned playfully, his eyes searching her face.

"H
m
mm."

She realized suddenly that the tables had turned. Awake and in control, aware of his potent male appeal, he had the upper hand, and he used it to his advantage.

He moved from her mouth to her throat, leaving tiny love bites to mark his territory. He spent endless minutes suckling her breasts. She was aware of a trembling that began somewhere deep in her belly, a sensation she recognized as sexual anticipation.

"Relax, Anne," he said, stroking gently up and down her spine, and if she'd paid closer attention, she would have realized his hand was trembling too. "If I know David, lovemaking was probably an obligation."

She could have hit him for guessing the truth. She had never reached a climax with David, he'd have fainted in her arms if she had even said the word. Still, a woman had to create some mystery about her, she had to keep some secrets, and it wouldn't hurt for Patrick to suffer a few more pangs of jealousy, to wonder what he'd missed all those years.

Yes, lovemaking with David had never been, well, it hadn't been any Guy Fawkes fireworks display. It had been more like two ships that bumped together
in the night, and not very often either. In fact, it was not remarkable that their few matings had never produced a child.

But Patrick didn't need to know that. Let him think that she and David held nightly Roman orgies. He hadn't lived as a monk all those years.

"You'd be surprised," she said. "You should have seen some of the positions he found in those books from India."

It was the wrong thing to say, a torch passed under the nose of a sleeping tiger. Over six feet of solid muscle and sinew uncoiled and pinned her to the bed. She could barely twitch a muscle, shackled from wrist to ankle by one fully aroused and angry male.

"Everything about you is my business."

"Well, I'm hardly in a position to argue, am I?"

He grinned slowly. "No, but it's a position you'd better get used to, and you'll have to admit it does have its advantages."

She caught her breath. He had lifted his weight from her body, but she still couldn't move except to give a helpless shiver.

"Anne," he said, lowering his mouth to hers. "My beloved. I don't need a book to make love to you, or have you really forgotten?"

She wound her arms around his neck and brought him down on top of her again. "Show me, Sutherland."

It was the right thing to say.

"This time it really will be different." He kissed her tenderly. "This time sleeping together means an
absolute commitment of body and soul. You have a right to expect my protection and fidelity forever."

Her eyes shone with mischief. "And in return I promise I shall never ring for you again."

"At least not before seven o'clock in the morning. But I was expecting more than that, Anne. I was thinking that in return you would be willing to fulfill my deepest, darkest desires."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that, Sutherland. How deep and dark
are
those desires?"

"Nothing that you couldn't satisfy. More deep than dark."

She thought she should resist to prove a point, but she didn't. Not when his hand brushed the curls at the cleft of her sex, and she wanted more, to show him finally how she felt.

"Now, Anne?"

"Aye, now," she whispered, hiding her face in his chest as his wicked fingers worked their magic, and she gave herself to him.

He accepted her gift, closing his eyes as emotion, overcame him. "You won't be sorry. I swear it."

She moaned softly as he concentrated on pleasing her. She had never experienced such enjoyment, not even during their encounter in the past. Her body was ripe for sex, sensations burgeoning, so primal she was almost ashamed of them. She had forgotten how good he could make her feel.

"Anne." He sighed as she climaxed against his hand, tremors running through her small body. "My love," he whispered. "Mine at last."

She thought she would never stop shaking, and
she lay suspended in anticipation as he penetrated her, pressing slowly inside. The sense of fullness, the pressure nearly brought her off the bed again, but he held her down until she relaxed. He kissed her and told her he loved her. Then she felt herself stretching to accept him, and even though she knew he was being careful not to hurt her, she gasped with the power of his entry, surrendering her whole self at last, stronger in her submission than she had even been before.

"Perfect," he whispered.

She didn't move. She was too afraid, too excited, until he began to thrust, and instinct took over. He drove so deeply inside her that they almost fell off the bed. Vaguely she was grateful that the thunderstorm masked the sound of their lovemaking. Someone had to hear the bed hitting the wall. Someone had to hear the soft moans she could not control.

"I want to come inside you," he said roughly.

Her body wasn't her own. It was his, and she felt his invasion to the tip of her womb, she felt him not only taking but giving of himself. Deprived of him for too long, she craved even more, exploring the hard beauty of his body with her hands. She could not seem to get close enough. She gripped his hips, clasping him to her.

He shuddered, kissing her deeply. "Aye, keep touching me like that."

He paused. Then he impaled her to the hilt, and she couldn't remember what he had just said. She couldn't even take a breath, aware of only him and
the bond between them that neither time nor circumstance had broken.

"Open your legs wider." he said, and she did, although such a thing seemed impossible. Surely he could not drive any deeper. She was already spread out beneath him like an offering, and he possessed her, making up for all the years lost in one night with such energy he would surely end up killing them both.

"Raise your arms," he instructed her. When she did, he caught her wrists in one hand and imprisoned her, interlacing their fingers so that when they came together, he was holding her, souls connected, soaring toward the sky.

For the longest time they lay joined together, arms and legs entangled as if by moving they would return to the world they had escaped. Then gradually their breathing returned to normal as they listened to the rain batter the old tower. Anne felt cherished and complete, even though the storm witches had won another round, stirring up a wicked love spell in their cauldron, which was said to be a fathomless loch hidden in the mountains.

"I won't be afraid of them ever again," she thought aloud. "They've done their absolute worst."

"Who?" he said idly, stroking her arm. "Wallace and Flora?"

She smiled. "No."

"Are you cold?" he whispered.

"Are you?"

"Hell, no." He wrapped his arms around her hips, smothering her in Sutherland. "I do love you."

"I know."

"Well?"

"Well, what?" she teased.

"Well, how about, 'I love you too, Patrick. I always have. I've been waiting seven lonely years for this night, but you, my lord, you
were certainly worth the wait.'
"

"All
right."

"Damnation, woman, is that the best you can do?"

"I love you, Patrick," she said dutifully. "I always have. I've been waiting seven years—"

"—seven
lonely
years."

"I've been waiting seven lonely years for this night, but you, my lord, well, you certainly throw around your weight."

He frowned at her. "Thank you verra much."

"You're verra welcome."

He glanced up as a gust of wind hit the window. "The cold weather is coming, and we have a wedding to plan. I think we ought to ask Nellwyn to help."

"I agree," Anne said. "It would give her something to do besides meddling in murders."

"We could be married in London, or here, or Hampshire. I don't care where as long as I can call you my wife within a reasonable period. How does the next two hours sound?"

She laughed. "Oh, Patrick. Do you know what I really want?"

"You insatiable woman."

"Not that. I want a pot of tea. Strong and hot and maybe eve
n laced with brandy. I don't thi
nk I can face all those guests without something to fortify me."

He nodded vaguely. "Good idea."

"Patrick?"

He had closed his eyes, pretending not to notice the glimmer of gray light creeping into the room. "Hmmm?"

"You have to fetch that tea. You cannot simply quit serving as my butler."

"What?" He sat up, naked, aroused, and indignant. "Why not?"

"Well, we cannot explain the real reason you were posing as a servant without exposing Flora's part in Edgar's death, and we've all agreed that it's pointless to bring his wife unnecessary pain."

"Am I supposed to masquerade as your menial for the rest of that woman's life?"

"Not quite." She burrowed into him like a small animal, not only to seek his body warmth but to cover the enormous grin on her face. "Probably just for another year or so—"

"Another year of sneaking about in the dark?" he said in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"Oh, aye." She burst into helpless laughter.

"Woman," he said softly, biting her shoulder, "we've wasted so much time."

He touched her face. Tears of joy stung her eyes, and even though she too was sorry for all the time they had lost,
sh
e couldn't regret what they had become or the lessons they had learned, or even the tender memories she had shared with another man.

"Patrick
,"
she whispered, stunned by the thought, "what if I get pregnant?"

"Oh, you will." His voice was a confident purr.
"Black Mag stands by the power of her prophecies, or your money returned in full."

T
hey dressed in separate rooms for the last time. Patrick put on his butler's costume for the last time. When they stepped out into the hallway, from separate rooms, they grinned at each other, then went their separate ways, Anne flying down the front staircase, Patrick clumping down the back for his final tour of domestic service, just like any other mistress and servant.

Except that for a moment before they parted, the butler pulled the lady back into his arms and kissed her passionately right in the middle of the hall where anyone could have seen them, then gave her an affectionate pat on the derri
e
re before continuing on his way.