Miss Foxworth's Fate (11 page)

“Oh, no. No, you didn’t hurt me. Well, only by being a stubborn man. But never mind that now. Just hold me, please? It’s been a longer day than you know.”

Philip enthusiastically obliged.

Abby felt the tensions leave her spine as Philip’s warmth spread around her, and a new kind of tension crept into her belly. He was hard and hot, and his breeches were betraying the fact that he liked her in his arms. Very much, apparently.

She couldn’t help herself. She rubbed her hips against him.

“Oh love,” he breathed, kissing her hair. “I didn’t come for that. I really just wanted to know that you were all right.”

“Well, as you see, I’m all right. Mostly. And I wish you had come for
that
. I could use some of
that
right now,” she sighed.

“Really?” His voice cracked.

“Really,” whispered Abby, reaching up and pulling his head to hers.

He needed no encouragement. His kiss was fierce, as if he had waited lifetimes to taste her again.

Within moments she was naked, her nightgown whisked off her by two strong hands, and seconds later he pressed his own nakedness to hers.

“We fit, Abby, feel how we fit,” he breathed, letting her body find just the right places to cuddle.

“I know, Philip, I know,” she moaned, loving his touch, his scent, and the little prickle of his hairs as they rubbed her sensitive skin.

He swept her off her feet and over to the rumpled bed. “Are you sure, love? Not sore from this afternoon?”

She grasped handfuls of his hair and pulled him down on top of her. “I’m sure, dammit. Now what are you going to do about it?”

Something snapped inside her, and she suddenly let it all go. She raised herself and kissed him passionately, letting her legs slide around his body and grasp him, tightening her muscles and holding him close.

Her hands dug into him and she moaned, writhing and squirming in an attempt to get all of him against all of her. There was nothing in her mind or her heart now except her need for this man. His response thrilled her, sent her soul flying free and purged the last of her worries from her overworked brain.

His fingers aroused her to an almost painful state of readiness, his lips followed right behind and the two lovers found themselves adrift in a whirlwind of desire in the darkness surrounding Abby’s bed.

Philip paused. “Turn over, love.”

Abby unhesitatingly obeyed. Whatever he asked, she’d do. Wherever he took her, she’d go.

“On your knees, Abby. Trust me. It will be a pleasure for you, I promise.” “I’ll not hurt you, love.”

“I know,” said Abby on a sigh.

She raised herself to her hands and knees, uncaring that she presented her very naked buttocks to his gaze. Whatever he wanted from her he could have, for this night. Because his touch brought sweet forgetfulness and comfort.

Philip drew in a breath at the beautiful sight before him.

Shadows caressed her smooth buttocks, deepening the cleft between them, and he could see the soft moisture as it dripped from her willing body. His heart jumped into his throat, and his cock jumped simply from the pleasure it knew awaited it.

He let his hands roam over the soft white mounds, smoothing her already-silk skin, just enjoying their leisurely journey. Her thighs sparkled with her moisture, and her swollen flesh called him to lose himself within. He slipped his hand beneath her and found her clit, gently stroking it and encouraging it to harden even more. She sighed and moaned, moving her hips now, pressing backwards, telling him without words how much she wanted his touch.

Experimentally he ran drenched fingers up her dark cleft, just brushing her tight little arse and smiling as she stilled and then shivered.

“Oh lord,” she muttered, burying her face into her pillow to muffle her sounds.

“Feel good, Abby?” he asked, still stroking her there, and moving nearer now.

“God, yes. Oh God yessss...” she hissed, writhing like a wild thing. “Everything you do feels good, Philip.”

His body blazed.

With a quick move he positioned his cock at her opening, rubbing himself through the wetness and coating the hot hard skin with her honey.

She moved against his hand, trembling as her muscles responded to so many mixed signals. Her hips wanted more of his fingers against her clit, but her backside wanted to push back against his warmth. He brought her to the trembling moment before her peak, feeling her muscles tighten and her breath shudder from her lungs.

Then he slowly eased himself inside, gritting his teeth as he took his time burying himself in her heat. Finally, he was there. His balls touched the back of her thighs, and he closed his eyes with the sheer joy of it.

“Abby,” he sighed.

“Philip,” she gasped into her pillow. “Dear heavens,
do
something.”

He chuckled, and did something. He withdrew almost to the tip and then sank back in again, loving her sighs of pleasure.

Slowly, easily, he moved, back and forth, slipping smoothly now into her slick body. His fingers kept time with his thrusts, and he started to lose the battle with his own body as his pace quickened. The feel of his balls as they slapped against her skin, coupled with the tight heat of her folds as they slid over his cock sent him into whirls of light and pleasure. He couldn’t hold back.

Moving faster now, his fingers stroked and rubbed her clit, robbing her of her breath and sending the first shivers of her orgasm through her body. He felt each and every little twitch and spasm, and as her inner muscles began to clutch at him, he let go.

He bit back a howl of ecstasy and buried himself as deep as he could go, filling her once more. Her body shuddered and shook around his, and he vaguely heard her cry out into the depths of her pillow.

It was over far too soon. He could have stayed like this for at least a couple of lifetimes.

But eventually her body slackened beneath his, and his thigh muscles started to cramp. With a sigh of regret he pulled from her, letting his now-exhausted cock slip from her relaxed and soaking folds.

He moved up beside her and pulled her into his arms, tugging the cover over the two of them. This was how he envisioned the rest of his life.

Nestled together with Abby, both of them sweaty, sticky and sated from loving, and snuggled into a lump of boneless delight.

She sighed and rubbed her head against his shoulder. “Philip. What am I going to do?”

“About what, love?”

“About...about
everything
.”

Philip grinned. “Well, let me see. Napoleon’s defeated, so you don’t have to worry about that. Um...the Congress in Vienna is taking care of most of the European questions, so that’s all right, too...of course the Prince Regent could use some advice about his appalling love life...”

Abby chuckled and bit his chest gently, licking the small marks left by her teeth. “You’re a dreadful tease, Philip Ashton.”

“Yes. Aren’t I, though?” He was too content to protest.

Abby sighed.

“Tell me, love. Tell me what made you throw yourself at me when I clambered, at great personal risk I might add, over your windowsill.” Philip eased back a little, trying to see what he could of her face in the shadows.

Abby was silent for a moment and then began to talk.

She told him the story she’d learned that day, and her tale bore out all the information his sister Rachel had given him, over which he’d struggled ever since. He needed to find the key, the right way to help her overcome all her worries and fears and realize that loving him was the only thing she could possibly do.

Philip listened quietly as her words painted all kinds of pictures for him. A picture of a lonely young girl hearing things about her mother that had no business soiling such tender ears. A picture of a child growing up with a fear rooted deep in her soul that she would turn into a woman capable of deserting her family. A picture of a daughter struggling to make herself a place within the less-than-affectionate hearts of her parents.

He grimaced, putting the pictures together and finally understanding her fear of such a deep commitment as marriage.

He pulled her closer and dropped a light kiss on her head as her voice trailed off at the end of her sad tale, and he let the comfortable silence between them grow as he wondered how best to approach the situation. He knew, more than ever, that Abby was his. That they could share a wonderful life together.

More than their bodies fit. Their minds fit. Their hearts fit. Their very souls were matched like identical peas in a pod.

All he had to do was convince Abby.

And
that
was going to take some careful thought.

Chapter 11

“Abby, how old are you?”

Abby turned her head, surprised at the question. “I’m almost twenty-three. You knew that, didn’t you?”

She felt his nod. “Yes. But did
you
?”

She blinked. “I don’t understand.”

Philip drew a breath, making her head rise a little as his chest expanded. “I’m twenty-nine, sweetheart. We’re both adults. Grown-ups. Neither of us is an innocent sheltered seventeen-year-old, going into an arranged marriage. We’ve lived, Abby.”

He stroked her arm and she wanted to purr at the sensation.

“You have a mind that can outthink many of the scientists I’ve met. I’ve spent most of my life buried in the country, ignoring my sister’s urging to find a bride. We were both looking for something,
someone
, that special person who could make us feel complete in so many more ways than this...”

His leg slid between hers, melding them even closer. “Although
this
is good too,” he chuckled.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her with a quick kiss. “Let me finish, love. Your mother found herself in an impossible situation at an unconscionably young age. Do you think for a moment that if you’d been born after she married her Count whatever-his-name-is, she’d have
ever
given you up?”

Abby thought back to her impressions of the elegant woman who she’d met for the first time that day. She recalled the warmth and pain in her mother’s eyes as she’d related her story to her daughter.

“Um. No, I suppose not.”

Philip’s leg moved upwards, slipping into the notch between her thighs and settling itself comfortably against her tender folds. He sighed again, and she couldn’t stop a little smile from crossing her lips at the sound.

“That’s the difference, Abby. She ended up in a marriage where there was no love, no sharing, no caring. Not like us.”

He smoothed her body once more. He seemed to enjoy stroking her, and God knew she wasn’t about to object.

“We have everything your mother didn’t. We love each other, Abby.” He pulled back slightly. “You do love me, don’t you?”

Abby thought about that question.

Her mind was as full of him as her body. Her heart whispered to her that she’d never find another who matched her so perfectly. And then she asked herself what her life would be like if he went back to his country home and she never saw him again.

The bolt of pain that idea sent through her made her shiver with its intensity. “Oh
yes
, Philip. I truly believe that I do love you.”

“Well, damn, woman. Don’t ever make me wait so long for an answer to that question. I swear I could hear my hair turning gray.”

His laughter made her smile.

And
that
was the secret. He could make her laugh. He could make her body sing, her soul fly, and within moments bring the joy of a shared joke to her heart. She wanted to be with him, to share with him, to...yes, to
love
him, for the rest of her life.

“I do love you. I’ve been so scared to love anyone...”

Philip snorted. “I doubt that, Abby. You’ve been scared of the idea of marriage. Of bearing a child and then deserting it, the way you thought your mother had deserted you. As far as loving anyone goes, well...” He grunted in disdain. “You just hadn’t met the right man. Me.”

Abby grinned. He was such a typical male in so many respects, and so unique in others. Perhaps that was why she loved him. A soft warmth spread through Abby as her fears fled before his words, and a weight lifted from her shoulders. One she never even realized she was carrying.

“I suppose you’re right,” she agreed quietly. “I was so scared of being caught in a marriage with any one of the endless stream of buffoons Aunt Eugenia encouraged, and then meeting someone who could seduce me with a look, and...” She swallowed, trying to find the words.

His arm tightened, giving her strength to go on. “And then leaving everything and everyone behind. Just like my mother had done to me.” Tears stung her eyelids as she let it out.

“Now you know she had no choice, Abby,” said Philip. “No choice at all. And much as I hate to speak ill of your father, it was an untenable situation. He should never have made those stipulations.”

Abby swallowed back her emotions, and nodded. “I know. Although it doesn’t surprise me now. He has always been...distant, I suppose would be the best way to describe it. Fair, and attentive on occasions when he wasn’t involved in some experiment or other. But not really seeing
me
, if you know what I mean?”

“How about your step-mother? Was she kind to you?”

Abby considered the question. “Yes, all things considered, she was. She had no children of her own with Papa, and I think she genuinely cared about me. I was so young when they married, of course, that I knew no other mother. I only learned of these things as I grew old enough to ask questions about what I heard. I was told simply that my mother had died, and that Laura was my mama now.”

Abby thought back to her childhood years, remembering the soft, comfortable woman who had become Lady Foxworth. “She certainly did all that was appropriate in raising me. I had plenty of governesses, books, clothes, all the things I needed.”

“Except for one, sweetheart.”