The Notorious Bridegroom (22 page)

“Your shoulder needs to be seen to. It looks quite painful.” Her soft voice and concerned lovely face penetrated his anger.

“Yes,” he told her abruptly, suddenly not wanting to let her out of his sight. “Bring some bandages to the library.”

A few minutes later she joined him in the library, now cozy with the beginnings of a fire. Bryce sat by the hearth, slumped in his chair, a whiskey bottle in his hand. He had yet to take a sip and couldn’t for the life of him discover why he hesitated.

Patience approached him, still clad in her nightdress and her thin blanket for protection. She set a basin of water behind him on a small table, along with her bandages and scissors. Her nervous tongue ran over her dry lips as she carefully pulled the ripped shirt from his bloodied shoulder and concentrated on avoiding Bryce’s heated gaze.

She knew what she was doing. Or did she? Did she realize she was playing with fire, playing with a hungry tiger and looking more and more like his meal? Instead of frightening her, his look only caused molten lava to heat her skin wherever he looked, while a thin perspiration formed on her skin.

Suddenly, Patience felt like the inside of Melenroy’s large kettle bubbling over the fire. She wiped her brow and returned his gaze with more assurance than she felt. “I…I think”—she cleared her throat—“I believe this will work better if you remove your shirt.”

Bryce shrugged and placed his whiskey bottle on the table before unbuttoning his shirt. Standing over his half-naked body brought their one night of passion thundering back to her, unless the sound was actually her heart beating, fast. She felt her nipples harden in response to the expanse of firm, muscled chest revealed before her.

He threw the shirt on the floor and settled once more back into the chair. She leaned over him to reach the table, and her muslin-clad breast accidentally brushed his shoulder, causing them both to jump.

“I’m sorry, I’ll try to be more careful.”

He didn’t bother to reassure her that she hadn’t hurt his shoulder but merely scorched his skin with her innocent touch.

Patience studiously cleaned the wound and wrapped it with a clean bandage, admitting to herself he handled the pain admirably, with no need for spirits. She stepped back to admire her handiwork.

“There, did he hurt you anywhere else?” She faltered under his intense gaze, most anxious to quit the room before she threw herself onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his inviting masculine chest.

“Ah, as a matter of fact, he scratched my hand in several places,” he suddenly remembered and held out his hands for inspection.

She studied his firm, strong hands but could not find any scratches.

“See, right there.” He pointed to a small scratch on his little finger.

Patience had to bend quite close to see the scratch, then looked back at Bryce, as if to judge whether he was bamboozling her or not. Only innocence etched that fine face she had learned to care so much about.

With a sigh, she cleaned the little scratch as well, then gathered up her nursing tools, prepared to leave. He watched her carefully, and Patience prayed he would not see her intense longing, which she tried to hide. But if he had, he said nothing. She stepped back to see his face by the firelight, wondering what he was thinking, and with a smile to him, turned to go.

His eyes were shut, avoiding her gaze. She started to back away, but he grabbed her nearest hand, holding it lightly in his, brushing his thumb over her smooth skin.

He murmured softly, yet harshly, “What do you want from me, Patience? I can’t go on like this. Tell me you want my touch. I need to hear you say it.”

His eyes still closed, he wanted to hear the truth in her words, if he couldn’t read it on her face.

Patience bit her lip. What did she want? What did he want to hear? That she wanted his love? That she wanted to be his wife and bear his children? That she wanted never to leave him because it would break her heart and her spirit? What truth did he want to hear?

She found herself drawn to him in a spell and whispered, “Yes, I want you to touch me. I want you to kiss me. Make me feel as I did before.”

He finally opened his eyes and her breath caught in her throat at his heated blue eyes blazing with passion. She told him softly, “I want what we had before. I want you.”

He savored his victory of her acquiescence only briefly before giving his lady what she wanted.

Stretched comfortably on his chair, Bryce drew Patience onto his lap and tenderly wrapped his hands around her narrow waist, her nightdress and his breeches still between them, her instruments of mercy fallen forgotten to the floor. Each stared mesmerized at the other as Patience placed her arms around his neck, waiting for his kiss.

He slowly tilted her chin up, brushing the side of her soft, warm cheek with his hand. His mouth hovered over hers briefly before kissing her slowly and gently, almost as if this was the first time they kissed. An unexpected spark surged between them. Something was different this time. Something more forever.

Patience’s hands in his thick hair, she rubbed her wet nightgown against his very warm chest, as Bryce deepened the kiss. He groaned, feeling her body touching him in all the right places.

They were both on fire. He swept his tongue into her mouth, seeking possession and her sweetness. She gave back willingly and ardently, wanting him as much as he wanted her.

Bryce unwillingly ended their tongue play to gain his breath and the upper hand, which Patience seemed to be taking from him unknowingly. He wanted to make the night last and shower her with such passion that she would never forget that she was a part of him.

He lifted her from his lap to stand and held her lightly in his arms. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. In front of him, her full breasts begged for his touch. He easily captured one nipple in his mouth through her thin white nightdress, causing Patience’s sweet moan at the sensuous feel of his hot tongue on her breast. His right hand slid up from her waist to grasp her other breast, kneading and stroking the lovely fullness at his whim.

She placed her hands on his shoulders for support, arching her back for his pleasuring mouth. When one breast became a taut wetness, he turned his attention to her other nipple, laving and sucking the tip to her delight and his immense pleasure.

She thought she would expire from the flame in his touch. Her senses drowned in this wet fire, lit higher when he grasped her hips and pulled her back on the chair with him, her legs on either side of his legs and centered to his swollen member tight in his breeches.

He slowly rubbed his length at the juncture of her thighs, as Patience caught her breath and uttered a soft cry. He stroked her legs, pushing her nightdress up to her waist. She shivered at his touch as he kissed her again with such intensity, all thought and reason swept away. There was only him and her and this night.

Bryce pulled her reluctantly away from him and looked up into her face warm with passion. His hardened maleness pulsed achingly when he saw her hazel eyes darkened in desire, desire that he had created in her, and only he. He allowed himself a small smile before rising to stand with her, still holding on to her, her legs now wrapped around his waist. After a few more punishing kisses, he set her gently down.

Patience watched him with wonder and trust in her eyes, which made his heart swell. Without losing any time, Bryce quickly arranged her blanket on the floor before the fire with a pillow for her head.

He turned to her while kneeling on the floor and outstretched his hand for her. He saw her shy smile as she brushed her wispy hair from her cheek and knelt down before him. Bryce captured her face in his hands and claimed her ripe mouth in a soft kiss, which instantly became demanding.

Patience, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, eagerly returned his kiss before they slowly pulled apart. She feathered tiny kisses along his solid jaw, then mischievously painted his lips with her tongue, before delving into his mouth to mate with his tongue.

He started slightly at her boldness, he was not sure how much longer he could last until he had to press inside her to relieve his aching need.

He gently pushed her to the floor, until they were both stretched out along the blanket. He slid one leg between hers to rub his knee against her quivering form while he resumed his searching kisses, branding her with the passion she inspired in him.

He leaned up and away from her, trying to gain control of the raging heat inside of him from just the taste of her lips and the passion-filled gaze in her hazel eyes. Bryce slowly traveled down her body, planting kisses on her nightdress, causing the little shivers that shook her body.

She moaned in protest the farther he moved away from her, but he looked up and whispered softly to her, “The pleasure can sometimes be had in the waiting.” Kissing her at the center of her womanhood brought her head up in surprise. She leaned her weight back on her elbows, never taking her eyes off his face as he totally concentrated on bringing her pleasure.

Bryce reached for the ends of her nightdress and slowly, torturing himself, raised the garment up past her lovely white calves to reveal slender thighs, trembling beneath his hard stare, kiss by kiss up each warm limb. And he pushed her garment still farther up, revealing the soft dark curls at her thighs’ juncture.

He hesitated before continuing to slide the thin material past her smooth waist to her full breasts waiting for his touch. Slowly, wanting the sensations to last, he caressed her stomach and then her breasts, drawing a soft moan from her—his woman. For that was who she was and would always be.

As he drew closer, Patience reclined on the blanket, then her arms reached up to grasp his shoulders. He paused to unbutton the few buttons at the top of her nightdress before pulling it over her head. Bryce stopped and stared at the lovely vision before him gilded in golden firelight. Shadows danced across her enticing curves and hidden valleys, a wondrous land he fully intended to explore this night. But her entrancement lay in the beautiful dark innocence of her warm stare.

Bryce thought perhaps Patience would allow him to touch her soul tonight, at least he would make every effort to try.

She continued stretching toward him, imploring him in silence to return to her but he shook his head. He was determined to give her what she wanted and even what she didn’t know she wanted.

Grasping her waist between his hands, he leaned down and attended to the pert rosy nipple posed next to his mouth. Again and again he laved the tip with his hot tongue before taking it into his mouth and plucking at the bud between his teeth.

She writhed uncontrollably underneath him, caught by the tidal wave of passion lashing over her. “Please, I want…I want…”

He looked up into her flushed face and asked quietly, “What do you want?”

But she shook her head wordlessly. “Do it again, like before. How long will this go on?” she implored him.

He smiled a secret smile. “As long as you command, my lady.” Then he turned to her other peak and coaxed it to pliancy beneath his expert mouth. Bryce’s member pulsed inside his breeches, needing to be free. He took a deep breath, knowing the end for him was not yet in sight.

But he realized he would have to speed his progress slightly for both to find fulfillment together. As he kissed the valley of her flat stomach, he slipped a hand down to open Patience’s thighs in preparation.

He stroked the soft insides of her legs before gliding a finger up to her womanly heat and easing inside of her. He heard her soft cry, and he shuddered, warmly stunned at her burning dew enveloping him. He couldn’t wait any longer and, placing her round buttocks in his hands, brought her wet heat to his mouth.

Before she could protest, a sob choked back, he had already found the sweet bud of Patience’s femininity and claimed it for his own. He nibbled and tickled her blossoming flower, then took the tiny nubbin in his mouth and stroked Patience until her body quivered and climaxed.

He held her shaking body, enveloped in passion’s embrace, her hands with a death grip on her blanket. Then he looked down her body to pin his brand on her, knowing that her honeyed pleasures belonged to him, till the end of forever.

Giving Patience and himself time to catch their breath, Bryce leaned up to sweep a kiss on her surprised lips. He quickly discarded his breeches and stood before her, his rampant manhood ready to besiege her welcoming wet fortress.

He knelt again between her parted legs and then hesitated. He looked up into her green gaze and asked her anew, “What do you want of me, Patience?”

She looked startled at his query and shook her head in confusion.

“You must tell me.”
And soon,
he thought, because he could delay his passion for her no longer.

“I…I want”—she cleared her throat and spoke falteringly—“I want you…inside me, please, Bryce.”

That was the request he needed to hear. His only words: “As you desire.”

Her arms wrapped around him tightly, he gritted his teeth to control his surging passion as he probed gently at her entrance before pushing himself into her tight chamber. He pulled out slightly, then thrust in again, this time farther and deeper.

She cried out, her voice heavy with desire.

Bryce clenched his teeth, stifling a moan. She felt so good and so very tight. Every time he brought his member to the edge of her heat, with legs wrapped around his hips, she voraciously pulled him back inside, her hips bucking beneath his hands.

He guided her to a rhythm she impatiently matched, her soft, inarticulate cries echoed in the room and in his heart. It was soon time. His thrusts increased, their speed as fast as the beating of their hearts. At the zenith of their loving, he reached up and laid his lips against hers in an unspoken promise before he growled deep in her throat and caught her passion-filled sob in his mouth when he poured his release into her haven.

Time stood still as he stayed nestled inside of her, before withdrawing from her wet heat. Lying down beside her, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and with his other brought her to his chest, his arm holding her tight to his side. He held her tenderly in love’s comforting aftermath. For a long while, neither moved. He didn’t want to leave her side, and she had no wish for him to leave.

“There you are, you bad kitty. How did you get so wet, Satan? Were you outside in the storm?” Martha asked her pet affectionately when she found him near the library. The black ball of fur rubbed his damp coat against his mistress’s face, seeking forgiveness. “Satan,” she cooed to him, “you are my one faithful companion, albeit a very naughty one.”

Noises from inside the library drew a frown on Martha’s brow. Still holding Satan in her arms, she walked silently to the doors, easily discerning the voices of Miss Patience and his lordship. She shook her head in defeat. Lady Elverston would not like this one bit. Again, she had failed in her duties to her sponsor.

Suddenly, she straightened up and marched to her room. Perhaps it was not wrong that the earl and Patience were together before the sanctity of marriage. Any fool could see how much they were in love.

She pulled her worn white nightgown over her head and crawled sleepily into bed.
Would that a man looked at me in such a fashion.
Martha quickly gathered sleep around her like a blanket. With slumber, she could forget, and her tears would be safe.

With only the embers left of their once-blazing fire, Patience suddenly felt chilled, even though Bryce’s hard length heated her side. She must get to bed. Alone. She needed time to think. Where do they go from here?

She slowly drew herself up and reached for her nightdress in a ball at their feet and slipped it on.

“Why would you want to cover such lovely charms?” Bryce had raised himself on one elbow, casually watching her, his face almost in the shadows of the dimly lit room.

Patience could barely breathe. “I must return to my room, my lord, before we are discovered, like this…uh…together.”

Bryce held up his hand to object, but she had already risen and crossed to the door. She turned to look at him, sadness and pain wetting her lashes.
He must not see my tears.
Taking a deep breath, she told him, “Please wait a few minutes until leaving after me.” She practically ran down the hall, leaving him in stunned confusion.

Patience climbed the stairs, whisked her door open and shut, and flew to her bed. Flinging herself prostrate across her half tester, only then did she allow her tears to fall. Would they, could they, have a future together? She cried for Rupert and the peck of trouble he was in. And she cried for Sally because the little girl had no home and a father who didn’t want her. Finally, she cried for the sadness she often caught in Bryce’s eyes that he didn’t realize showed.

Her cries silenced by her pillow, Patience jumped when she heard a soft knock and saw the door opening. She wiped her tears on the back of her hands and watched as Bryce, dressed in his breeches, stared enigmatically at her.

She took a deep breath and then another one. What was he doing in here? She uttered a startled whisper and felt the bed dip as Bryce sat on the edge. He gathered her into his arms, whispering comforting sounds in her ear.

Hushing. Hushing.

Causing a torrent of tears to melt down his solid warm chest. Several minutes passed before she lifted her head, unable to meet his gaze which she knew sought answers. He pushed his handkerchief into her hand, which she used to dry her face.

Not quite finished, Patience choked back a few more sighs and gulped a few breaths. Bryce remained by her side and stroked her hair and rocked her back against his chest, seeming to understand her unexpressed need for solace without words.

Finally, feeling more composed, she drew into a sitting position and smiled abashedly. “Crying is such a silly waste of time, is it not?”

He frowned. “Why would you think such a thing?”

She shrugged. “My elder brother James is always telling me not to behave like a silly female, and tears, he says, are only used for womanly wiles and not at all proper or godlike.”

Bryce shook his head with a wry smile. “If we are made in his image, then surely tears are godlike. I do not deem all tears as stratagems that women use on men—well, actually I did, until I met you.” He paused and tilted her head with a gentle finger beneath her chin, staring into her eyes as if trying to learn her secrets.