The Pursuit of Pleasure (9 page)

What if Papa had been right? What did she really know of him, of Captain Marlowe now? She’d been swayed by his talk of houses and estates and independent fortunes, and convinced by the heat of his kisses. He had told her exactly what she had wanted to hear. Stupid, stupid girl—soaking wet, cold girl.

Her foray into the shrubbery had left her uncomfortably sodden and growing colder by the moment. The big fat raindrops had already soaked through her linen chemisette and were snaking their chilly way down her back by the time she made her way to the edge of the lawn.

“Lizzie? Lizzie!”

She turned at the sound of Jamie’s voice. He came across the garden from the direction of the house at a fast, but easy run, laughing at the rain.

“What do you think you’re doing out here? Come inside.”

“I think I’m getting wet.” She told herself she wasn’t happy to see him, no matter the sweet curling sensation in the pit ofher stomach when he smiled at her like that. She forced her mind back to the cold coil of unease and discontent sliding under her skin.

“Who was that man?”

“A servant.”

She didn’t know what she had expected, but it wasn’t that. It seemed entirely out of character. “A servant? What happened to ‘Servants are people’? No, what did you used to say? ‘Servants are people and individuals as well, and they do not exist simply to meet your extravagant needs, Lizzie.’ ”

“Did I say that?”

“You used to do. All the time. And took great pleasure in lecturing me.” She turned away to frame her next question. But he had other things on his mind.

“There are other things I’d rather take pleasure in now. You’re soaking wet.” He stepped closer and thumbed a raindrop off the end of her nose before he shrugged out of his coat and slung it around her shoulders. “Here. You’ll do me no good if you catch the ague. I’d rather lecture you on pleasure itself.”

Her hands went reflexively to the lapels to pull the coat snugly around her shoulders as the weight of Jamie’s large, capable hands settled on her shoulders, holding her still before him. She felt the low melting spiral through her again. The cloth was warm from the heat of his body and redolent with his spice-tinged male scent. Bay rum, he’d said. Yet it was the warmth in his eyes that sent comfort billowing around her as surely as the cloth. She could spend all day trapped in his eyes and forget his suspicious actions when he looked at her like that. It made all her firm resolutions and difficult suspicions melt like toffee in the sun.

But without his coat, he was now the one getting cold and wet. The rain sluiced through his shirtsleeves and under his waistcoat, drenching him. Her gaze fell to his upper arms where the water plastered the fine linen against his skin, making it all but transparent. The elegant swell of his shoulder and upper arm muscle was clearly outlined, wholly masculine and curiously beautiful.

She couldn’t seem to help herself. Without thinking, she’d reached out one inquisitive index finger to touch him, tracing the line of his bicep where it curved into his upper arm. Then down the inside to the crook of his elbow. The difference between the long, cool, pale length of his shirtsleeve and the steaming heat coming off his skin was strangely arousing, tipping off a shivery heat low inside her. She gave in to it and let it wash under her skin and wipe away all thought. She closed her eyes and rubbed her face along the slick, silky wet cloth. Beneath her cheek, his muscles were long, sleek, hard, and warm.

A sound very much like a growl rumbled out of him. And then his hands were there, tipping up her lips as his mouth descended towards hers slowly. All the while he watched her, daring her with his knowing eyes to back away.

But she’d always loved a dare. She loved the little anticipatory rush of naughty pleasure.

Yet there was nothing naughty or flirtatious in his kiss. His mouth covered hers and immediately she felt his strength, his physical dominance of her body. His hand slid around to her nape, solid and strong—immovable. The warmth of his palm blotted out the chill of the rain trickling through her hair. He gathered her into him, against his chest and into the hot insistence of his lips and teeth as he kissed and nipped, torturing her mouth open with his honest greed.

His other hand fanned along her cheek, angling her face and tipping back her head so she had no choice, no thought, but to open before him.

No thought but to give over and let the wave of sensation drown her reservations. She was all sensation—the touch of his hands holding her intent before him, the slide of his skin,rougher where his whiskers hid just beneath the surface of his smooth-shaven skin and softer where his lips pressed insistently into hers. The sound of animal satisfaction that wound out of his chest when her mouth opened and the surprisingly sweet tang of his mouth as his tongue swept in to entwine with hers.

Heat and something she recognized as need flashed under her skin, pebbling her body with gooseflesh and abrading her nipples against the cold fabric of her damp shift.

She made her own sound then, one of needy desperation and surrender. It stopped her cold. She wasn’t made for surrender.

She pulled her mouth closed and turned away.

He pulled back abruptly. “What is it?” His voice was low and raspy.

She closed her eyes to the probe of his and shook her head. He leaned his forehead down against hers, close and confining, refusing to let her turn away or gather her thoughts.

“Lizzie.” His breath blew warm across her face, an uneasy contrast with the chill of the rain. “You’re shaking. God, you’re freezing. Come.”

He took up her hand and set off at a dead run across the lawn. She went, pulled along by his momentum, the rain and wet grass flying by in a gray blur. They raced towards the house like the children they once were, tumbling breathlessly through the front door into puddles of their own making.

But Jamie was done with childhood. Once through the door he kicked it closed and crowded her back against the polished oak of the portal. Without a word he grabbed her upper arms and covered her mouth with his.

The kiss was hard and demanding. He surrounded her, dominating her with his hands, his body, and his mouth. His skin was damp with chill rain, and his lips tasted like the spring shower, cool, fresh, and earthy. He put his thumbs along the edge of her jaw and exerted just enough pressure to open her so he could taste. His tongue swept in and tangled with hers, knotting up all her senses.

She caught at him for balance, gripping his arms and pulling closer to the warmth rising like steam from his body.

“My God, Lizzie.” He traced a torturous line with his tongue down into the hollow of her throat. “First we’re going to get you out of these wet clothes and then we’re going to consummate this marriage. Immediately.”

His words prowled like a wolf across her skin, insistent and hungry for her. Her breathing grew hectic and her nipples tightened within her damp shift. She couldn’t think.

“I thought this was a marriage of convenience, a straw marriage?” She tried to grasp at her own straws, to buy enough time to sort out her confused thoughts and feelings. She wanted the old Jamie, the Jamie she thought she knew. Not this man she didn’t know if she could trust. Not this man with his relentless, driving determination.

She tried to slip away, to slide around the fortress of his chest. To find a chink in his armor of self-assurance. He let her twist and undulate beneath his hands, but he wouldn’t let her go. His hands spanned her waist and his thumbs brushed back and forth against her midriff as she moved. He scooped his chin around to nuzzle at her neck.

“Maybe,” he whispered against her ear, “but there’s no reason we can’t make hay. At least for a day. The house is empty.”

“No. I must think. I don’t want—”

“Don’t lie to me, Lizzie. You do want. You can’t kiss me like that and tell me you’re indifferent. That you don’t want my touch as much as I want yours. Admit it. You know it as well as I do. You did from the moment you kissed me at the assembly room. We’re inevitable, you and I.” His gaze poured over her like heated steel, sharp and dark with something like anguish. It was almost painful to look at him. Too painful to lie.

“Yes.” Whatever he was, whatever he had become, he was still hers. Her Jamie. Always. Inevitable.

He pressed his advantage, kissing along her neck and down onto the thin skin over her collarbone. She felt the insistent warmth of his lips inside her bones, all the way to her knees. And somehow she could feel his lips were curved in a smile.

“I’m a desperate man, Lizzie,” he teased in his low, smooth, wolf voice. “About to forsake hearth and home for the passage to the grave. And I want you. I want
you,
Lizzie. No one else will do. No one else ever has.”

She all but stopped breathing. There was heat and even pain that became pleasure in her chest where his words pierced through her. Her lips came apart, trembling on the shaky rush of her breath. He kissed them into stillness.

“Let me love you.”

Words of unbearable, irresistible sweetness. How long had she waited to hear them? She had no defense to such openness.

Her eyes tipped shut and her legs seemed to dissolve out from under her. He took her weight in his arms, kneading the length of her spine, urging her forward into his chest and into his kiss. It was more than she could bear. It was everything she wanted.

Lizzie gave herself to his mouth, sending her tongue out to swirl and dance with his, sucking lightly at his lower lip. Her chest felt tight, as if her breath were bound within her and only he could set it free. She ran her hands up the corded tendons at the back of his neck and into his soft hair, disrupting his queue, fisting it in her hands and pulling him closer. He smelled intoxicating, a potent combination of rain and leather and man.

He unwrapped himself just enough to pick her up without breaking the kiss.

“Come,” he breathed against her lips as he gathered her into his arms. “Let me take you to bed.”

Oh, yes. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his weight into her, soothing the tight ache that gnawed at her inside. Jamie took the stairs two at a time, carrying her against his chest as if she weighed nothing. She curled into his heat, turning to nuzzle against his neck. She could feel the strong, steady beat of the pulse under his skin. Her own felt weak and hectic.

Once he’d gained the bedchamber, he set her down and turned to light the fire in the grate. “You need to be warm.”

The abrupt loss of his heat reminded her why she was cold and uncomfortable in her sodden riding habit. The chill returned her to some semblance of her senses. The doubts she’d so easily pushed aside came back, insistent and demanding. She needed to put distance between them, emotional as well as physical, even as she edged closer to the kindling fire. She needed to understand
this
Jamie, this complicated, confusing man, before she could lie with him.

“I’m not going to just let you sweep me off my feet.” She firmed her voice. “You’re leaving.” She wasn’t sure if she said it to remind herself or him.

“Too late. I already have. And here we are.” He gave her another of those slow, unfairly intelligent smiles of his, while his gaze roamed her face. Looking at her as if he wanted to memorize her like a line of poetry.

“You’re leaving.” Such a paltry defense, but it was all she could say. It was the only thing that made sense.

“Yes, Lizzie. But I want you. Now. Fiercely. We will give each other pleasure while we can,” he coaxed. “Enough to last a lifetime.”

Would it be enough to fill a lifetime? The pleasure he’d already given her had left her shaking and nearly incoherent with want. Ready to abandon her scruples just to feel him and taste him. What more would it feel like to have Jamie, hisbeautiful, long, lean naked body next to hers? His strong, clever fingers discovering the secret places of pleasure locked away inside her?

“I promise. There’s power and freedom in pleasure, Lizzie. Just waiting for you. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” His quiet, low-voiced appeal vibrated through her, insinuating its way through her armor.

“Everything?” She let out a gasping breath. “And who’ll teach you?”

“Lizzie.” His gray eyes changed, the dark, intent gray slowly warming at the corners, until they crinkled completely. “Don’t you know? There’s a big, wide world out there.”

“You said … no one else had ever…” But of course he had. He was a man now. A man who had lived in that wide world, who had crossed seas and seen other continents. She had never been so far as London. She probably never would.

And he was leaving. She’d never have another chance again.

“I rather meant marriage, Lizzie. I never wanted to marry anyone else but you.”

Jamie rubbed his chin against the side of her neck, while his hands roamed lower. “I’ll tell you what else I want.” His breath fanned alongside her ear, his voice low and insistent. “I want to lay you out in the middle of that bed and strip every last inch of clothing from your very well hidden little body until you are quite, quite naked, and then I want to explore every last, hidden inch of your skin. Because believe it or not, I
have
done this before. And despite your attempts at worldliness, I don’t believe for a moment
you
have.”

His gray eyes pierced her defenses, stripping her soul bare. As if he knew. Knew that despite the fact that she hadn’t done this before, she’d wanted to. She’d lain awake at night, feeling the pulsating hum and rhythm of her body, and longing for a lover’s touch. For his touch.

Heat blazed across her cheeks and down her chest. She turned her head away, but that merely gave him unimpeded access to her neck. He ran his teeth along the tendon. A sharp stab of pleasure serrated the last of her defenses. Oh, most assuredly, he had done this before.

He pushed his damp coat off her shoulders and yanked her tight-fitting jacket down off her arms, exposing the translucent fabric of her chemisette and shift. He ran his hand up the sides of her stays.

His low voice was inexorable. “But I’ll tell you what, Lizzie. I promise to make your wait, very, very much worth your while.” He nipped at her earlobe and took it gently between his teeth as he circumscribed her linen-covered breasts with his hand.