The Longing (24 page)

When they arrived at Kyle’s mother’s house, Amelia’s discomfort
flared up. She was welcomed with smiles and hugs, but even when the
fun of surprising Nancy and sharing cake together was over, and
after they had all settled into relaxed conversation, Amelia still
felt like a guest amid Kyle’s close-knit family.

It wasn’t their fault. There couldn’t be a
home that was more open and loving than the Graysons’ or one filled
with more laughter and good-hearted teasing, but Amelia had kept
herself outside the family by keeping herself from Kyle. She didn’t
feel
like his wife or Nancy’s daughter-in-law, because in
her heart, she hadn’t yet earned that special distinction.

Amelia drained her third glass of wine and
glanced at her handsome husband, wishing their relationship was as
relaxed and natural as Radford and Evelyn’s. Evelyn had said that
she and Radford shared everything, that they sprawled on the couch
together in the evenings and talked about their day, their
business, their dreams. Amelia couldn’t imagine Kyle sprawling
anywhere, or talking to her about his private dreams. Sure, they
talked and laughed and Kyle answered any question she asked him,
but he didn’t offer himself willingly. She had to drag him out from
behind his shield of cynicism and distrust every time she wanted a
peek at the real man she’d married. She wanted to know his private
side, the vulnerable part of himself that he kept hidden and
protected.

Amelia refilled her wine glass as Radford
guided Evelyn to the front of the room with Rebecca perched on his
arm.

“I would like to make a toast,” Radford said.
Everyone quieted and raised their glass. “To Mom, for always giving
us a place to come home to, for welcoming our stray dogs, our
lovely wives, and my wild daughter who is going to have a brother
or sister in about six months.”

Nancy gasped and Radford winked at Evelyn,
his expression so full of love it made Amelia ache to witness
it.

Everyone clinked glasses and laughed and
offered best wishes, but Amelia brought her glass to her lips and
emptied the burgundy liquid into her mouth. Her eyes met Kyle’s
gaze over the rim of her glass.

She’d expected his look to be condemning, but
it was filled with desire and the same intense longing she’d seen
during their boat ride. It jolted her to see how desperately he
wanted a child of his own. She wanted a baby, too. For years she’d
sat alone in her apartment imagining how it would feel to have her
stomach round in pregnancy, to hold her newborn infant, to feel the
heat of that tiny body against her breast.

Amelia lowered her empty glass and wondered
if the longing in Kyle’s eyes was because he’d wanted that child
with Evelyn. Nancy had said their broken engagement hurt Kyle more
deeply than he let on, and Kyle had said he still loved Evelyn, but
it didn’t appear he was still harboring ill feelings toward Evelyn
or Radford when he embraced them and wished them well.

Finally having an opportunity to congratulate
them, Amelia stepped forward and prayed she wouldn’t lose her
balance when she hugged Evelyn. The wine had taken the edge off
Amelia’s nerves, but it was making her light-headed. “What does
Rebecca think about having a little brother or sister?” she asked,
hoping her words didn’t sound as awkward as they felt in her
mouth.

Evelyn reached up and patted Rebecca’s back.
“She can’t wait to mother someone other than our cat. Missy doesn’t
like wearing bonnets or nappies, does she, Rebecca?”

Rebecca’s eyes widened. “She scratches me
when I put the bonnet on her.”

“I don’t blame her,” Kyle said, slipping his
arm around Amelia’s waist, then turning to speak to Radford as if
it were the most natural thing in the world to stand with his wife
in his arms. “Remember when Duke used to tie Dad’s old handkerchief
around our dog’s neck? How many times did Rex bite you for that,
Duke?”

Amelia couldn’t take her eyes away from
Kyle’s face. He was so incredibly handsome when he laughed. In that
instant, she could vividly picture their children. She and Kyle
would have big, hearty boys with wide smiles and dark eyes like
their daddy. Their daughters would be tall, with Kyle’s thick hair
and her nose. All their children would laugh from the belly like
Kyle did when he was with his brothers. They would be beautiful
children full of ambition. The house would echo with the sound of
feet pounding up and down the stairs, with children roughhousing
and giggling in their beds when they were supposed to be sleeping.
One would always be snuggled against Amelia, nursing an earache or
begging a story or just wanting the security of her mother’s
arms.

The fact that Amelia was holding a wine glass
instead of a baby filled her with a desperate urge to start her own
family. It would be wonderful if she and Evelyn could raise their
children together. If Amelia conceived right away, her baby would
only be a few months younger than Evelyn’s.

Amelia wanted to make love with Kyle, but she
didn’t want to risk losing the new closeness she felt with her
husband. She’d loved hearing him laugh and she relished the new
expressions that had replaced Kyle’s usual frown. Already her
feelings for Kyle went far beyond attraction and desire. They went
to the center of her soul, a knowing so deep that she felt it in
her bones. She was falling in love with her husband.

Amelia found the wine bottle and refilled her
glass. She would have one more drink to keep her relaxed. Maybe if
Kyle had a few more drinks he would relax, too. Maybe if he had
enough wine they could consummate their marriage and he wouldn’t
even notice her secret.

“Where’s your glass?” she asked, lifting the
wine bottle toward Kyle and giving it a tempting slosh.

His eyebrow quirked and he shot her a curious
look, but he held out his glass without commenting. Throughout the
evening, Amelia kept a firm hold on the bottle and a sharp eye on
Kyle’s glass, keeping it filled as he joked with his brothers.
Amelia’s mind grew foggy, but Kyle’s laughter came easier and his
touches bolder until he finally tossed her light wrap around her
shoulders and told her it was time to go home.

A mixture of excitement and fear filled her
stomach, but to bolster her courage and cloud Kyle’s thoughts,
Amelia slipped a nearly full bottle of wine beneath her wrap.

o0o

The fresh air cleared Kyle’s head, but his
persistent little wife insisted he share her bottle of pilfered
wine. With a laugh at her daring, he helped her finish it off on
their short drive home.

“How did that second verse go?” she asked,
squinting over at him, making him laugh. He couldn’t believe she’d
gotten him to sing the raunchy songs most women would have swooned
over.

“‘She had long, long legs and—’”

“No. Tell me the part about the man.” She
wrinkled her nose. “I’m not going to sing about some woman’s legs.”
Kyle laughed and she hit his arm then fell against him. “Come
on.”

“All right.” He inhaled and opened his mouth.
“‘My head grew light and my knees turned weak. She held me so tight
I couldn’t even squeak.’”

“Why the devil would you want to squeak?”
Amelia asked, wobbling on the seat beside him as she tried to stare
into his eyes. “Does a man squeak when that happens?”

His chest felt as if it were going to burst
from holding back his laughter, but he didn’t want to hurt her
feelings. “I don’t squeak. I might moan some.”

“Really?” Her eyes widened. “Does it hurt
you, too?”

The laughter drained out of him as he turned
the carriage into their driveway. “No. It feels good. Really
good.”

“Oh.”

He stopped the carriage and climbed out. His
face was warm and his legs less than steady, but Amelia could
barely stand up. He left the carriage in front of the house and
carried her inside.

She hooked her arms around his neck and
giggled as he stumbled through the front door. “Kiss me like you
did in the boat.”

He looked at her, their noses only inches
apart.

Amelia swung her feet and laughed. “Kiss me
right here in the parlor with the door open.” She pulled his head
down, but missed his mouth and kissed his eye. She laughed and
tried again, but got his chin. “Hold still, for Pete’s sake. How do
you expect me to kiss you when you keep moving your head?”

God, he loved this silly, playful side of
her. “I think your head is floating from all that wine you
drank.”

Amelia covered her ears. “Don’t mention that
word right now.”

Kyle laughed and carried her into the
bedroom. He leaned down and laid her on the bed, but she squeezed
her arms around his neck and kept him from standing up. “Make love
to me.”

“What?”

“I want a baby, Kyle.”

So that was why she was doing this. He had
thought she was finally ready, that he’d finally earned her trust.
Kyle warned himself not to be hurt by her words. Amelia wouldn’t
mean to be so callous. She’d had too much wine. She’d die of
embarrassment tomorrow if she remembered any of this.

“Please.” She tugged at his neck. “We have to
do it tonight while you’re...while I’m ready.” She released him and
fumbled with the buttons on her dress. “This is going to take too
long. Here,” she said, reaching down to grasp a fistful of her
skirt in each hand. “I’ll pull up my skirt.”

Good God. Kyle stared at her stocking-clad
legs and felt every drop of wine rush through his blood, leaving
him dizzy and shaking. She bent her knees. Kyle’s own knees buckled
and he knelt beside the bed. The sharp ache in his shin did little
to clear his mind or ease the ache in his groin. In five seconds,
maybe less, he could have his pants off and be right there between
her slender white thighs and...good God Almighty. He clapped his
palms over his face and gulped a breath of air. He wanted to. God
help him, he absolutely, positively did. His body begged him to.
But he couldn’t. Not like this. Not with Amelia barely conscious.
Not their first time.

His hands shook as he unbuttoned her dress,
then he stood up to remove it. She glanced up, the concern in her
eyes gnawing at him, making him want to shake her until she
confessed the real reason she was afraid of him. He wiggled the
dress off her body and tossed it over one of his wing chairs. She
started to shake and Kyle’s anger dissolved. “I won’t hurt you,” he
said, then unhooked her garters, rolled down her stockings, and
took off her shoes.

“Ummmmm...what are you doing to my foot?” she
asked, her voice so mellow and breathy, Kyle nearly said the hell
with compassion. Instead, he kept her foot in his hand and rubbed
his thumbs across her arch in long strokes that made her moan. He
would give Boyd credit for knowing the art of seduction. Figures
his own timing would stink.

Amelia shivered and Kyle didn’t know if it
was from the foot massage, from fear, or simply from the cool air,
but her discomfort helped him regain his common sense. He tugged
her stockings off and dropped them beside the bed, then pulled the
covers over her shivering body. She sighed and turned on her side,
drawing her knees up like a small child. “Get in here and warm me
up.”

Kyle didn’t climb in. He stood by the bed for
several minutes to make sure she’d fallen asleep, then he went
outside to his carriage and drove to the Pemberton Inn. There was
absolutely no way he could sleep with Amelia tonight and not make
love to her, and the only way he could abstain was to stay out of
the house.

o0o

“Are you already sneaking out?” Boyd asked,
as Kyle dropped onto the barstool beside his brother.

Kyle nodded to Richard who was on the other
side of Boyd, then signaled the bartender to bring him an ale.
“Amelia’s sleeping off the wine you gave her.”

Boyd held up his hands. “Don’t blame me for
that last bottle. She stole it on her own.”

Kyle stared at him. “You saw her do
that?”

“Hell, yes!” Boyd laughed and slapped Kyle on
the back. “I fell in love with her right there in the parlor. I
figured you were going to be in for one hell of a night.”

“I was.” Kyle dropped his forehead into his
palm.

To Kyle’s irritation, Boyd laughed. “This is
exactly why I’m not married.”

Kyle picked up his mug and drained it, liking
the way it revived the wine already in his body. “Bring me another
one, Pat.” The bartender nodded and grabbed Kyle’s mug.

Richard caught Kyle’s eye. “Did you and
Amelia have your first lover’s quarrel tonight?”

“No. My wife was too inebriated to talk, much
less argue.”

Richard’s brows lifted. “Amelia was
drunk?”

“To her eyebrows, but I doubt she’d
appreciate anyone else knowing.” Kyle rubbed his temples. “Remind
me to never let her touch another drop of wine.”

Richard and Boyd exchanged a glance then
burst out laughing. “Well, don’t keep us in suspense,” Boyd said.
“What happened?”

“Nothing.” Kyle snorted. “That’s the problem.
Not a damn thing happened.” He drained his second ale and shoved
his mug forward for a refill even though his fuzzy brain tried to
tell him that he didn’t need any more.

“Richard, I think you and I are going to be
carrying Kyle out of here tonight.”

“Like hell. I’m sleeping right here on the
bar.” Kyle drank down half of the golden-brown liquid in his mug
then let the heavy bottom thunk back on the bar. “Why are women
afraid of sex?”

“They aren’t.” Boyd glanced at Richard. “Are
they?”

He shrugged. “Some don’t like it much, but I
don’t think they’re necessarily afraid of it.”

“Why should they be? It’s not like we drag
them by their hair to the bedroom,” Kyle said, glad he could
commiserate with his own gender.

“Maybe that’s your problem, Kyle.” Boyd
wiggled his eyebrows. “Amelia might like that.”