Unraveling Secrets (The Secret Trilogy) (20 page)

He leaned back and looked around her head and shoulders. “A
vibrant rose found only in the perfect sunset.”

His poetic description sent a tiny thrill through her. He ran his hands along her hair, tucking a lock behind her ear, then cupped each of her cheeks. “I want to see all of you. Now.”

Emotions she’d never known before filled her, desire heavy deep inside her. She wanted to please him, and so did as he asked. She loosened the ribbons of her chemise and pulled the thin garment from her shoulders and let it float to the floor.

“Yes,” he murmured, his fingers following a path along the sensitive flesh she revealed.
Down her collarbone, to the tip of her breast, along her belly, then lower still. He touched the bruise coloring her thigh with gentle fingers and shook his head.

“Your turn,” she demanded with a smile. She made quick work of removing his shirt, pausing to run her hands through the wiry hair of his chest, to trail her fingers along his scar
, careful to avoid his bandaged injury. His muscles quivered in response. Next she moved to the waist of his trousers.

“Hold.” He closed his eyes as though overwhelmed for a moment, then took both her hands in his. “Abigail, are you certain? I must know, for I
—”

She put a finger to his lips. “Yes. I have absolutely no doubts. Can
’t you feel how right this is?”

He searched her face for a long moment before
gathering her into his arms. “Yes,” he agreed and sealed his words with a kiss.

She
ran her hands along his shoulders, marveling at the solid feel of him. As he eased her down on the sofa, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed the hollow of his throat where his pulse beat frantically.

“So beautiful,” he whispered as he trailed kisses along
her neck, down to her breasts.

He took one into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the tip, shooting spears of sensation all the way to her toes. First one, then the other, causing her to gasp in surprise and delight, even as she realized his fingers glided low over her belly. She moaned, hoping he
’d repeat what he’d done the previous day.

“Abigail, you
’re so beautiful.” He lifted his head to watch her as his fingers touched the most intimate part of her.

As though performing a dance she didn
’t know, her hips swayed and thrust to his movements, sensations building within her. “Stephen, please.”

He rose to unfasten his trousers, droppin
g them carelessly to the floor.

“Oh, my,” she
said as she stared at his form.

His body looked as though a sculptor had carved the cords of muscle, paying attention to detail along the hard planes of his stomach. She could see where the hair that started on his chest narrowed on his stomach and trailed down as though to point to his manhood. It stood erect, so different and so much...bigger...than the statues and paintings she
’d viewed. How could the artists have portrayed it so wrong?

“You have the softest skin,” he whispered as though trying to distract her from her
surprise. He lay beside her on the sofa and continued to use his mouth and fingers to build her passion higher. His member pressed her thigh, surprising her with its heat and hardness. She hadn’t reached the advanced age of six and twenty without some knowledge of the workings of intimacy, but that hadn’t truly prepared her for the actual act, for the feelings building inside her mind and body.

Anxious to please him, she reached down and ran her fingers along his stomach, stretching until she felt that unfamiliar part of him. The breath left his lungs in a
rush, giving her pause until she realized her touch stirred him as much as his moved her.

Too soon, he pulled her hand away and wound his fingers through hers as though to hold her in place.
“I must have you.”

“Yes.
” The longing he created within her demanded fulfillment.

He rose over her, settling between her legs, his manhood pressing against the very core of her. She raised her knees, pleased at the sensation of his weight on her. He pressed into her center, and she could feel her tightness stretching to allow him entrance. Doubt filled her as she realized it simply wouldn
’t work.

“Stephen?”

His harsh breathing was her only answer as he reached down between them to touch her. As desire spiraled higher within her, he pushed forward, filling her.

“Oh!” The sharp pain took her by surprise
.

He froze, nothing moving except his chest as
his breath came fast.

“I don’t think
—”

“No. Don’t think.”
He kissed her, the heat of his lips easing her concern.

After a moment, she realized her body had accommodated his size
, leaving pleasure in the wake of pain. She tilted her hips experimentally, anxious to see what other feelings she might experience.

With a moan, he drew back only to thrust into her. Again, her hips danced with his as though caught in an ancient ritual unknown to her. Layer built upon layer until she couldn
’t bear it. At last, he touched her once again and the star she rode burst.

Stephen thrust into her one last time, his moans mingling with hers. She held him tight as she floated back down, her heart slowing, beating in time with his.

Satisfaction and happiness mingled through her as she enjoyed Stephen’s naked body against hers. “That...was glorious.”

He lifted his head, the gold flecks in his green eyes glittered as he st
udied her expression. “Indeed.”

“I had
no idea,” she said with wonder.

He smiled as he shifted to rest his weight on his elbows, his finger tracing her brow. But his smile soon faded and his gaze shuttered.

“What is it?” she asked, not ready to lose their close connection.

He shook his head and moved to her side on the
sofa, pillowing her head on his shoulder, wrapping her in his warm embrace. He kissed the top of her head and her heart squeezed.

She basked in the moment, unable to stop
the images of more times like this running through her mind. Times spent at his side, cuddled in his arms, visiting about their day, or in the throes of passion. Then she realized exactly what she was fantasizing about—a lifetime with him.

How had this happened? How had his presence in her life grown to include a future? A lump formed in her throat when she realized the irony of the situation. She
’d found a man worthy of making her change her mind about marriage, but he had no interest in a life with her.

***

“It wasn’t necessary for you to accompany me.” Abigail glanced up at Stephen as they walked down St. James Street. One of her housemaids, Emma, trailed behind them. Abigail’s pace was slowed by the lingering pain in her thigh.

“Forgive me if I disagree.” He perused the street, clearly
keeping an eye out for Simmons.

Stephen
seemed in an odd mood today. The shadows under his eyes spoke of a sleepless night, and she couldn’t help but worry it had to do with them making love. It tugged at her to think he was so troubled that it stole his sleep.

The street bustled with shoppers, everyone ignoring the dampness of the day. The sun was not to be found, too stubborn to show itself. A good day to stay home with a bra
cing cup of tea.

“I don
’t like shopping. I don’t see how you can.”

“Perhaps it
’s not shopping but the company of my companion I’m enjoying,” he suggested with a smile.

Abigail
’s stomach dipped and her cheeks warmed at his comment. Now that they’d made love, she wasn’t sure about the nature of their relationship. No longer strictly business nor did she think they were having an affair. She could only hope their interlude hadn’t been a onetime occurrence.

“I do appreciate that Thomas is home with my stepmother and the girls rather than following me.” Stephen
’s appearance on their doorstep in response to the message she’d sent about her intended outing had surprised her.

“And the other guards.”

“Assuming Irene hasn’t sent them away again.”

He told her he
’d posted a second guard nearby with the hope that at least one of them would always be able to keep watch despite her stepmother interfering with his plans.

Stephen shook his head. “I still think you should tell her the truth.”

“I thought about it many times. In fact, I almost did. But it seems like we’re nearing the end of this whole problem. Why worry her if Simmons is no longer a threat in a day or two?”

“Hmm.” Stephen
’s noncommittal response was less than reassuring.

Again she ran through the advantages and disadvantages in her mind. No, she was certain she
’d done the right thing. “If the situation changes or somehow worsens, then I’ll tell her.”

“As you wish.”

If he only knew of the warm feeling that spiraled through her at his words. Pushing aside her longing, she consulted the list of items her stepmother had requested. When Abigail had heard her planning an outing with the girls to pick up a few needed things, she’d quickly offered to go in her stead. Irene had looked at her as though she’d lost her mind, but Abigail had convinced her she wanted some fresh air.

She
’d nearly decided against bothering Stephen for such a minor excursion, but in the end had sent him a message and was glad she had. Any time in his company was time well spent. She hoped to find the right moment to suggest they meet again at his home for another...interlude, but so far, it’d been too difficult to manage such a private conversation while out in public.

Or perhaps she just hadn
’t found the courage to do so yet.

“The apothecary is next,” she said. They
’d already completed two stops and had one remaining.

“I
’ll keep watch outside.”

Abigail and her maid entered the small shop that her stepmother frequented on a regular basis. “Good day to you, Mr. Sky
rme.”

“
Miss Bradford. How delightful.”

The shopkeeper was a tall, thin man with gaunt cheeks, thick brows, and permanent dark circles under his eyes. Abigail wondered if he had trouble sleeping. If so, surely one of the concoctions in the bottles behind the counter would cure him.

“What might I assist you with?”

He spoke in a slow manner, enunciating each word with great care. His cadence amused Abigail, but the prophecies the man liked to expound gave her the shivers. The last time she
’d been in his shop, he’d told her of an evil omen spreading due to the growing flocks of crows in the city. Each time she’d seen a crow after that, she’d wondered if what he’d told her was coming to pass.

The man could spread prophecies faster than a costermonger.

Abigail avoided looking at the snakes in bottles and the stuffed alligator strapped to the rafters and instead studied her list. “Lady Bradford requested some Grasshopper Pills for headaches.”

“Certainly. Will there be anything else?” Mr. Sky
rme asked as he plucked a tin from a shelf.

“She wondered if you could recommend something for a stomach ailment.”

“A stomach ailment. Interesting.” He put his index finger to the corner of his mouth and looked at the ceiling as though searching for an answer there. “How long has the stomach been a problem?”

“The past two days
believe.”

“I have just the thing.” He folded his lanky form down to peer in a drawer under the counter. “I anticipate many more will soon be seeking assistance with such ailments.”

“Oh?” Abigail hid a grimace. Surely he wouldn’t bring up the flocks of crows again.

“Indeed. Did you perchance see the moon last evening? I fear we can expect dour happenings over the course of the next three days.”

The sound of a door squeaking in the back of the store interrupted Mr. Skyrme’s expansion of his prediction.

He frowned at the sound. “One moment please, Miss Bradford.” The man rose and walked slowly through the doorway t
o the backroom.

Before Abigail had time to wonder what had occurred, Mr. Sky
rme came hurrying back, his eyes wide.

Abigail
’s breath caught as she realized something was terribly wrong.

“I fear
—”

“Shut yer trap, old man!” A gruff voice sounded from behind the apothecary owner.

Mr. Skyrme flew forward, landing on the edge of the counter, revealing an unwelcome face.

“Miss Bradford. We meet again,” Simmons said with a broad smile as he stepped from behind Mr. Skyrme.

Abigail backed up as her maid, Emma, squeaked with fright. Simmons wore the same brown suit and matching bowler hat she’d last seen him in, but his face and clothes were smeared with dirt and grime.