Song Of The Nightingale (DeWinter's Song 1) (22 page)

The carriage came to a halt, and Raile jumped down and swung her to the ground. “I mean, madame, that I shall perform my husbandly duty toward you tonight, and quell any more rumors.”

Kassidy pulled away from him, wishing she could run away. “You promised you would not—“

Raile took her arm and guided her up the steps of his town house, and lowered his voice so only she could hear. “The promise has been voided from necessity.”

Without a word, she entered the house beside him. A butler rushed forward and took her cloak, and she almost looked to him for assistance, but realized no one could help her.

“Inform the servants that we are not to be disturbed,” Raile told the butler.

“Yes, your grace.”

As Raile steered Kassidy up the stairs, she felt trapped. She faced the unknown, and it was a frightening void. Kassidy felt his hand against her back as he guided her upward.

He swung open a door and indicated she should precede him inside the bedroom. She moved quickly to the window, hoping to put some distance between them. She was glad the window was open and she could take a big gulp of air to help diminish some of her uncertainty.

Raile watched Kassidy’s slender form as she turned to face him. But for the unusual green eyes, there was nothing about her that he recognized. Where her hair had once been dull in color, it now shimmered like a glimmering halo. She looked so lovely in the half light from the fire, all he could do was stare at her.

Wanting to put her at ease, he moved to the fireplace, where the fire danced in the grate. “We have a lot to learn about each other, Kassidy. Although we are married, we are virtual strangers.”

“I’m not certain I want to know you, Raile,” she admitted at last. “I believe I still fear you.”

“I’m sorry if that’s true. I would never harm you, Kassidy.” His eyes became soft with understanding. “It’s difficult for one person to measure the depth of another’s fear. Or the bravery it takes to overcome that fear. Each man, or woman, has something they are afraid of.”

She moved closer to him and the warmth of the fire. “I cannot imagine you being afraid of anything.”

“But I am.”

She moved even closer. “What could ever frighten a man such as you?”

He smiled slightly. “You do. You are a precocious woman-child, who I thought would fit into the order of my life—but I completely misjudged your character. I am not certain what I should do about you, Kassidy.”

Now she had drawn even with him. “You could allow me to leave, your grace. Neither of us wanted this marriage. If you allow me to return to my aunt, you can feel free to return to your mistress.”

“I can’t do that, Kassidy.” He reached out and touched a soft curl that lay against her cheek. “I’m sorry you had to find out about Miss Candeur, but you must believe me when I tell you that I have not seen her since our marriage.”

“I have no reason to doubt your word.” Her eyes were challenging. “Except, you did promise to give me a year,” she reminded him.

Suddenly his finger trailed across her cheek and down her throat. Kassidy felt as if her breathing had been cut off.

Raile’s dark brooding eyes moved across her face, to rest at the swell of her breasts. His hand drifted through her hair, his fingers gently untangling the curls.

His voice vibrated a cord within her, and Kassidy felt as if a cleansing fire swept through her body.

“Perhaps you will want to release me from my promise, Kassidy. Perhaps you could pretend for this one night that we are a husband and wife who married for all the right reasons.”

She looked up at him, feeling as if her body had no will of its own. “Why would I want to do that?” she asked in a whisper. She was trembling with emotions she could not understand. “We married for all the wrong reasons. You know we don’t love each other.”

Raile’s smile was devastating. “We could pretend to be lovers, if it would make it easier for you.”

“I have a feeling if a woman were to lose her heart to you, Raile, she would only raise your contempt, and you would no longer desire her.”

“Not you, Kassidy,” he whispered. When he touched his lips to hers, she could not move—could not think— she could only cling to him and press closer to the body that warmed her heart and her blood.

His kiss invoked a sweetness in her, and when he applied more pressure to her lips, his hands spanned her waist, pulling her against the hardness of his thighs, and the sweetness turned to raw desire.

Kassidy was as helpless against Raile’s sensuous manipulation as a flower petal being hurled into a hurricane.

25

A moan of distress escaped Kassidy’s lips as she moved away from the mouth that was draining all her will and at the same time, demanding more than she wanted to give.

In a desperate effort to save herself, she struck out at Raile, catching him a glazing blow across the cheek.

Raile grabbed her wrist and held it in a firm grip, while they stared at each other for endless moments. Kassidy saw her hand imprinted on his cheek, while he stared into green eyes that were filled with bewilderment.

“I did not mean to strike you,” she said, appalled by her act of hostility. “I don’t know why I did that. I have never struck another human being in my life.”

Raile moved away from her to stand at the fireplace. His eyes focused on the dancing flame, but his mind was on the woman he had married. “This is a first for both of us. No woman has ever struck me.” He took several deep breaths, hoping to bring the burning ache for her under control. The one thing he must not do was lose his head and frighten her.

Kassidy stood clutching her hands. “I ask your forgiveness, Raile. It’s just that when you kissed me, I felt as if I were no longer in control. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“I don’t even know what’s happening to me, Kassidy.” He remembered her bad experience with the guard at Newgate and silently cursed himself for not being more understanding of her fear. He turned back to her with a smile. “Perhaps you would like a glass of wine?”

“No,” she said shaking her head. “I want to be in possession of my reason.”

When Raile reached out to her, she moved away from him.

Kassidy said in a confused voice: “I never wanted to like you, Raile. Then when I met Miss Candeur at the dressmaker, 1 became extremely angry with you. Many times I have reminded myself that your brother is responsible for my sister’s death. I don’t know if I trust even you.”

“Yet you married me.”

“It seemed the only thing to do at the time.”

He reached for her hand and pulled her tightly against him. “You don’t have to trust me—you can even hate me if you must, but do not deny me that which is mine by rights.”

With a muffled cry, she buried her face against his shirtfront, absorbing the strong feel of him in every fiber of her being. For so long she had not allowed herself to think about Raile. But her dreams would betray her and she would awaken with a deep yearning for him that she neither understood nor welcomed.

His hands moved up her back, and he crushed her to him. “Come willingly to my bed, my little duchess.” His mouth rested against her cheek.

Startled by the intensity she felt in him, Kassidy turned her head slightly and felt his lips touch hers. “We both know I am not—“

His hard lips sealed the words in her throat. Such yearning burst forth within her that she pressed into him, wishing she could be part of his body.

He moved his lips just a bit and whispered, “Don’t think about what happened at Newgate. I promise you, it makes no difference to me. I’ve never been with a virgin, anyway.” His mouth covered hers, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. She felt as if her body had no substance, no power of its own.

“Yes,” he whispered against her mouth. “You will be willing enough when I take you.”

His words didn’t penetrate her consciousness. She wished he would go on forever kissing her. She was unaware when he unfastened her gown and slid if off her shoulders, allowing it to drop to the floor.

A sweet urgency shook Kassidy when his hungry, seeking mouth drifted across her shoulder, trailing downward, circling the swell of her breasts and brushing briefly the taut nipples that pressed against her silken chemise.

“No,” she gasped, struggling against him. “This is wrong.”

Raile smiled down at her in amusement. “How can it be wrong? We are husband and wife.”

Raile watched the rise and fall of her breasts.

Kassidy became aware that her breasts were visible through the transparent chemise and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not ready for this.”

He pulled her arms away from her body. “But you will be ready before this night is over,” he whispered, his gaze moving over her perfect body. “Believe me when I tell you I will do nothing you don’t want me to do, Kassidy.”

Her tousled blond hair hung loosely about her face. Her creamy breasts shone like satin against the white silk undergarment.

A tremor shook Raile, and he clasped her shoulders. “Let us silence those wagging tongues that proclaim you the ‘virgin duchess.’”

“But the guard—“

“Forget that man. He does not exist for you or me.”

Before she could answer, his lips found hers in a kiss so drugging she could only hold onto him for fear of losing her balance. When Raile picked her up in his arms, she made no protest. Gone was the fear and uncertainty. In its place was a wild yearning so intense that she could hardly breathe.

Those magnificent dark eyes were mesmerizing as Kassidy’s head drifted back against the pillow.

“Are you still frightened of me, Kassidy?” he asked, cupping her chin and forcing her to look at him.

“I don’t think so. But I don’t know what is expected of me.”

“Are you willing to become my wife?”

“I... don’t know. I don’t know how.”

He smiled slightly. “That is of no consequence.” He lay beside her and raised up on his elbow to look down at her. He could feel her tense and wanted to put her at ease. Clasping her hand, he raised it to his lips—kissing each finger, one by one.

“Kassidy,” he said softly, caressing her long hair, “you remind me of a wild bird—a nightingale—I once captured. It had mistakenly flown into my fishing net and became entangled. When I found it, it was badly injured and mistrustful.”

She was trying to concentrate on his story, but his gaze had moved to her breasts, and she could feel a burning deep inside—a yearning—a wild sweetness stirring to life within her.

“What did you do?”

Raile slowly pulled her toward him until her head was resting against his shoulder. Suddenly, he felt her stiffen. “After untangling the poor creature,” he continued, “I held it in my hand, ever so gently.” His hand glided down her neck. “I could feel its heart beating rapidly.” His hand moved lower, to rest against her heart. “Like your heart is beating now.”

Kassidy felt dizzy with yearning. “D . . . id you let the bird go?”

She felt Raile’s hand circle her breasts, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. What was this aching need that made her tremble with yearning—why did she want to press her body against his and feel all of him?

“No, Kassidy. I didn’t let the bird go at first because I had to tend its wounds, and I had to teach it to trust me.”

His hands were hot against her skin as he pushed her chemise off her shoulders, all the while his hands worked magic: circling, caressing, gliding sensuously toward her now exposed breasts. “I stroked its feathers as gently as I could.” To demonstrate, he stroked across one breast and then the other, sending a shiver of delight dancing across Kassidy’s skin.

“Then what happened?” she managed to ask in an uneven voice, her eyes wide and dreamy.

His hand drifted across her stomach. “Like you, the nightingale feared me at first.” He leaned forward and touched his lips to her ear, whispering and stirring her hair. “But I won the bird’s trust after a while.” His hands moved lower to lightly touch her thigh, making her moan softly.

“Eventually, that nightingale allowed me to open my hand, and it perched there, not wanting to fly away.”

“It didn’t try to fly away?” she asked, knowing she would never want to leave him.

“No, Kassidy. When the nightingale had healed, I had to force it to fly away by throwing it into the air.” His lips moved along the curve of her face. “It circled above me, Kassidy, for a long time, before it finally flew away.”

His hand slid between her legs, and he gently began to massage there. His voice was deep when he spoke again. “And I swear to you, Kassidy, that for that one whole summer, that very nightingale would sing outside my bedroom window every night.”

His mouth was only inches away from hers. “Tonight, you will sing for me, little nightingale.”

Raile didn’t know why he had remembered the nightingale, because the incident had happened so long ago. He only knew that Kassidy had come to him like a bird with a broken wing, and it was his responsibility as her husband to help her heal.

Her skin was so smooth and soft, and her hair smelled of some exotic perfume. He was enchanted with her, and he had not expected to ever lose his head over a woman, but she was delighting him with her sweetness.

Raile found he wanted to possess all of her, not just her body, but her mind as well, and to hold on to her, so she wouldn’t fly away like the nightingale.

He looked into green eyes that were so innocent and yet so alive. It was as if she were taunting him, pulling at him, and when he pressed his mouth to hers, he wanted to tear away the remaining barriers that came between him and her soft flesh.

Throwing off his clothing, he pulled her against him, while his body trembled and sank against her satin skin. He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her.

“If you knew anything about nightingales, Raile,” Kassidy whispered in a thick voice, “you would know it is only the male who sings.”

“Then,” he whispered, “you will make me sing tonight, little nightingale.”

Kassidy gravitated toward the heat of his mouth. She had the feeling she was drowning in the essence of this overpowering, dominating male. But it did not matter, she only wanted to feel the thrill of his touch, to become one with him.

“I never knew it was like this between a man and a woman,” she said, gazing into the dark recesses of his eyes, forgetting that the guard at Newgate had defiled her body. “No one ever told me.”

“It is much more than this,” Raile said, as excitement throbbed through him. He would be the one to introduce Kassidy to a joy beyond belief. He tried not to think that he would not be the first man with her. He would be the only one she would remember.

Raile dared not examine his emotions for Kassidy too closely, for he felt more deeply about her than he had with any other woman. Perhaps it was because they were bound by marriage.

Suddenly Kassidy was afraid of what was happening to her. She gripped the sheet in her fists and tried to pull it over her. “Could we not wait until another time?” she asked in a hopeful voice.

“No, Kassidy,” he told her, prying her fingers apart and placing her hands against his broad chest. “It must be tonight. You are as ready as you will ever be.”

He slowly moved over her and poised above her. “Don’t be frightened. I will be gentle with you.”

As he lowered himself against her and pushed her thighs apart, she saw the swollen shaft, and her eyes rounded with fear. “Surely you aren’t going to—“

His mouth covered hers, cutting off her protests. She felt herself surrendering to him once more. When she felt him glide between her legs, she opened to him, feeling the pressure and wanting to feel this pleasure he had promised her.

Their bodies were wet with perspiration, and he slid easily into her softness. He filled the empty cavity of her body with his throbbing shaft—filled her mind with new sensations—filled her heart to overflowing.

An aching need danced on Raile’s nerve ends as he inched forward, taking care not to frighten her again.

“It won’t hurt,” he whispered. “It only hurts the first time.”

“No,” she gasped as he thrust forward, “I feel pain.”

Her eyes were luminous and full of expectancy. She breathed in the manly scent of him, slid her fingers through his dark hair, opened her mouth to his probing tongue.

Suddenly Raile moved forward with a stabbing jab, and Kassidy could not keep from groaning at the beautiful lingering pain. She rolled her head back while his lips moved along her throat and across her shoulder.

He pulled back, a look of wonderment in his eyes. “Kassidy,” he whispered, “look at me. No man has ever touched you. You were indeed ‘the virgin duchess.’ No man has been where I now rest inside you.”

She searched his eyes, her heart racing with yearning and happiness. “You would not say that if it were not true?”

“I can assure you, Kassidy, I am the first man who has been intimate with you.” He suddenly felt elated. “You see, your anguish all those months was for nothing.”

Still, she was afraid to believe him. “Are you certain, Raile?”

He held her tightly to him. “On my mother’s grave, Kassidy, I swear to you that I am the first man to enter you.”

When he returned to her quivering lips, he kissed her with heightening urgency.

Kassidy thought nothing could rival this deepening feeling of pleasure and pain, but she was wrong. He drove deeper into her, and set a rhythmic motion that trapped her breath in her lungs.

Slowly and with care, Raile possessed her body. And when he had reached the height of satisfaction, he held her in his arms until his body ceased quaking.

For a long moment, Kassidy lay still, hardly daring to breathe. At last she understood what marriage was all about. It was being bound so tightly to another human being that only death could part you.