Читать книгу Scandalous Regency Secrets Collection - Кэрол Мортимер, Louise Allen - Страница 26
ОглавлениеHER INDIGO EYES were wide with wonder, anticipation, a hint of humor only slightly shadowed by apprehension.
He wondered what she saw in his eyes.
He wondered if she was having as much trouble breathing as he was, as if his body had turned that responsibility solely over to him, and if he didn’t concentrate he would not breathe at all.
She didn’t know. She’d never questioned.
Or she’d never doubted.
Did it matter?
She was his, convenient betrothal be damned, the ring be damned, the world be damned.
She was his. From the moment she’d first looked into his eyes. Then. Now. Forever.
Her mouth was warm beneath his, her skin soft and silky as he kissed away her clothing, his senses fired by her tentative touch as she returned the favor.
Stroke. Touch. Learn.
With all the time in the world, with all the care he could hope to convey through each new gentle advance.
Always ready to stop. A constant prayer in his head that she wouldn’t ask that of him.
That he wouldn’t ask it of himself.
She moaned softly as he took her nipple into his mouth, raising herself so that he could cup her, hold her, introduce her to the world of sensual pleasure.
He moved to kiss her again, keep her at a level of pleasure unmixed with pain as he managed to somehow unbutton his breeches.
Advance. Retreat. Kiss, and kiss again. Taste and touch and swirling passion mixed with a tenderness that threatened to bring him to tears.
God. Thank You, God. What did I do to deserve such a precious gift?
Coop lifted his head, to look down into Dany’s face as he slowly slid his hand down her perfect body. He pressed his palm against her lower belly, and watched as her pupils went wide and dark.
She licked her lips with the tip of her tongue. He watched as her throat worked when she swallowed, blinked up at him.
His heart pounded. With the rapid beat of life, of the exquisite pain of love he hadn’t known existed.
He moved his hand, slipping it between her thighs even as he claimed her mouth once more with lips and tongue.
She opened for him. Flowered for him.
He mimicked his motions, tongue and exploring fingers. Cajoled. Comforted. Knew the moment when apprehension was replaced by pleasure. Pleasure he was giving her, longed to give her.
She moaned quietly, moving her hips as if she thought he’d leave her.
He dared to become more intimate, but she immediately stiffened, her thighs tensing.
“It’s all right, it’s all right,” he soothed against her mouth. “I’ll stop.”
She shook her head. Rather violently actually.
He couldn’t help but smile.
What had he been thinking? Dany would never call a halt at the first fence. It wasn’t in her nature.
Slowly, as he levered a leg between hers, he began whispering in her ear. “I don’t want to hurt you. I never want to hurt you. But just this once, I will, I must.”
She wrapped her arms around his back and lifted her lower body against him. No words. No fear. Just a silent yet definite yes.
“But quickly,” she told him, her fingertips digging into his back.
“No going back,” he warned.
“No going back,” she agreed on a sigh.
That was all the encouragement he needed. He felt her tense; he knew the moment he’d broken beyond the thin barrier. He held her close as he gave her everything, as she took him in.
He wanted to be gentle. He had every intention of being gentle, slowly introducing her to what he hoped would be a building pleasure, at least enough to give her the promise that next time, and all the times after this, there would be nothing but pleasure.
But he hadn’t counted on Dany.
Somehow, amid the tangle of clothing and the soft, sun-warmed cashmere throw, she managed to free her legs, bringing them up and around his back, keeping him close as he began to move inside her.
Her courage lent him courage. Dany was a woman now, of her own free will, her own free choice.
She could walk away once this business of blackmail was settled, and Mari was settled. He could walk away, both of them having agreed this was only a sham betrothal.
Yet she’d given herself to him. Without a backward glance, without demanding anything of him. And damn the consequences.
Or did she trust him that much? Was there even more there than trust? He dared to hope.
“Dany...” he breathed, claiming her mouth again. He could never, would never, get enough of her kisses. He could survive for days with no other sustenance but the sweet taste of her.
Coop was in awe, reverent even as his passion built, but he would continue to hold back, be gentle, slowly, carefully, bring her at least some measure of pleasure...even if it killed him.
But Dany wasn’t so reticent.
Her fingertips dug into his back would leave marks. She raised herself to meet him each time he dared to go deeper, matching him move for move. He could hear her quick, shallow breaths. He could feel her heart beating against his chest.
He raised his head, looking down into her eyes. Those deeply blue, all-expressive eyes. The expression of wonder was still there, now accompanied by revelation, and perhaps even a bit of impatience.
Bless her. Dany, the fearless.
“Are you certain? I’m not hurting you? Because...”
She scissored her legs higher on his back.
He had his answer.
Nature has a way of protecting the innocent, and that’s what they were at this moment, two innocents, navigating their way through unfamiliar territory, guided only by instinct.
Sex. Any two people could fumble their way through that age-old act.
But to care, really care? Adding that unexpected dimension to what came naturally?
Being with Dany this way, Coop felt himself as much the virgin as she had been until a few short minutes ago. As his passion grew, another emotion grew with it, blossomed, burst into full flower the moment he felt her body convulse around him. Her pleasure ignited him, took him beyond anything he’d known, and when he spilled inside her he felt tears stinging at the backs of his eyes.
He lay on top of her for long moments, both of them recovering their breath, waiting for their hearts to ease back from the mad gallops they had been that had helped them race to the brink, and beyond.
He looked down on her face, again attempting to gauge her reaction, only to see tears running out of the corners of her eyes, sliding into her ears. Yet she smiled, raised a hand to cup his cheek.
He turned his mouth into her palm, pressed a kiss against her warm flesh.
“That...that was interesting.”
Only Dany could say something like that and make him laugh.
“I agree,” he told her, carefully levering himself away from her, just enough to remove some of his weight. Still watching her, he fumbled for the cashmere throw, drawing it up and over her.
Dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose, he sat up, his back to her, located his jacket and retrieved the linen square handkerchief.
“Stay,” he told her as he got to his feet, one hand holding up his pantaloons. He felt he presented a less than romantic figure, but there was nothing else for it.
“Stay? Am I graduated now to your trusty hound?”
“Absolutely,” he told her with a smile, and then took himself off to the stream, dipping the handkerchief in it, catching his breath in his throat as he saw the merest streaking of red that clung to him.
Once buttoned and tucked and reasonably decent, he rinsed the handkerchief and carried it back to the gazebo, only to see that Dany apparently had fallen asleep.
So much for any niggling worries he might have harbored about tears, uncomfortable questions or recriminations.
He lifted the throw and bent over her, kissing her awake, whispering into her ear, even as he slipped the wet handkerchief into her hand and then took himself off again, only returning when she asked his assistance in rebuttoning her gown, standing behind her to secure the buttons, kissing her shoulder, smiling as she tipped back her head against his chest.
“We have to go,” he told her as she busied herself folding the throw and replacing it on the back of the chaise.
“I know. We have to go back to the world, and all our problems. Including the fact that I doubt I will be able to look Darby, or Harry, for that matter, in the face ever again.”
“Harry was trained to be discreet, having been in my mother’s employ since he was out of leading strings, and Darby has what he terms a selective memory. At least he won’t tease. Well, he won’t tease you. I don’t think I’ll be so fortunate.”
Together, stealing kisses across the expanse of the blanket, they gathered up the remnants of their uneaten meal before Coop took her hand and led her back toward the cottage.
Harry was already waiting with the curricle, holding one of the bay’s heads, a bit of residue from what had probably been a cherry tart clinging to his chin and a wide smile on his face.
Once they were away from the estate and heading back to Portman Square, Coop felt the world slipping back into his consciousness, doing its best to crowd out more recent, definitely more pleasant memories.
Dany appeared to be suffering from the same depressing letdown.
“Have you decided how you’re going to approach this Ferdie person? You more than hinted that finding something with which to turn the tables on him is no longer possible now that he knows he’s been found out. But then what do you do? What can any of us do? To stop the publication of another chapbook destroying you, of retrieving Mari’s foolish letters?”
“Some plans are in motion, but they won’t suffice on their own. Ferdie attempted to coerce Geoff into killing me. I doubt that having Geoff conveniently sidelined by injury will stop Ferdie for long, once he discovers that Geoff did a flit.”
He turned to look at her, sure he was about to set off their very first verbal fight, and not a half hour after they’d made love. “In any event, until he’s taken care of, you are confined to Portman Square.”
“I will not!”
He needed to be direct, and firm. “Dany, don’t I have enough on my mind?”
She faced front, her arms crossed, and pouted.
“Dany?”
“Yes, yes, I was going to answer you. Reluctantly. You’re right,” she said at last, sighing rather theatrically. “But I expect Rigby and Darby to have your back. They will, won’t they?”
“Yes.” But Coop was far from relaxing. Dany obeyed when she wanted to obey. He’d learned that well enough in only these few days. “I’d move you to the duchess’s mansion, but you need to remain with your sister. What if Oliver were to return before we have the letters? She’d need you.”
“Again, I have to agree. Will you at least tell me what these other plans are that you have set in motion?”
He attempted to hold back a smile, but failed. “Minerva and the duchess are involved, along with an eager-to-help Clarice Goodfellow. And believe it or not, the whole thing was Rigby’s idea. I only had to agree to not interfere and ‘Get on with it,’ as Minerva told Darby and me to...”
The shot came from the trees to their left, and Harry cried out in pain.
Coop reacted with a soldier’s quickness, never slowing the curricle.
“Harry!”
“Here, sir. It’s m’leg, sir.”
“Hold on! Dany, can you take the reins?”
She already had her hands out to accept them. “We all need to learn sometime. Grab him, Coop, before he tumbles off.”
Coop didn’t have time to worry about her inexperience. The roadway was far from crowded, and straight as far ahead as he could see. He turned on the bench seat, snagged Harry by the front of his shirt, lifted him clear of the seat and pulled him forward so that he landed facedown between them, then managed to right him on the seat before taking back the reins.
The time—from the sound of the shot, to Harry’s yelp of pain, to taking back the reins while Dany cradled the tiger tightly against her—had been no more than a few seconds.
Seconds that had seemed like a lifetime.
“Holding on?”
“Holding on,” Dany replied. “Ferdie heard the news about that Geoff person sooner than you thought?”
“And made other plans, also sooner than I thought. Are you certain you’re all right?”
“I am, at least as all right as anyone would be in similar circumstances, I suppose. But Harry’s bleeding.”
“Jist a nick, ma’am,” the boy said cheekily, his head against Dany’s breast as he smiled up at her in some adoration. “Jist a wee dizzy, that’s all.” He then wound both arms around Dany’s waist.
“I’ll pull to the side of the road, once I’m certain nobody’s in pursuit.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Dany told him. “From the look of his trousers, he was only grazed by the ball. Mostly, it ripped them. Um, could you spring the horses a little more? This may sound silly, but I think my back itches.”
He grinned at her. “Mine, too. We’re already seeing more traffic on the road. I’ll soon have to slow down in any case.”
“Then do that, and I’ll tend to poor Harry here as we keep moving.”
“Poor Harry, m’mum’s only baby,” the boy said on a sigh, snuggling even closer, until Coop was tempted to give the boy a clap on the ear. Except that the lad had taken a shot clearly intended for him, a shot that could just as easily have found Dany.
They’d put a good mile between themselves and the failed assassin, and now there were two coaches riding behind them, and an empty farm wagon in front of them. They were slowed to a near walk.
“You can let go now, Harry, unless you think you might faint?”
“Yes, m’lord.”
“Close your eyes, Harry,” Dany told him as she bent forward, lifted her skirt and proceeded to tear a strip off her petticoat. “There. Now let’s just wrap this around your leg, all right?”
“Yes, ma’am. Should I...should I be droppin’ m’drawers?”
“No!”
“Honestly, Coop, there’s no need to shout,” Dany told him, laughing. “Thank you, Harry, but that won’t be necessary. I only want to put pressure against your wound. That’s what my papa did for my brother the day he thought it would be fun to see if he could toss his new knife in the air and catch it.”
“Don’t have no brother,” Harry said. “No papa, neither. Jist me and m’ma, and she’s still on the baron’s estate, all alone an’ lonely like.”
Dany finished wrapping the leg and tying the ends. “You’ll see her soon enough. Won’t he, my lord? And with a nice new set of livery. He’s been so brave, hasn’t he?”
They were entering the outskirts of London. “Anything else, Miss Foster? Perhaps his very own pony?”
“M’very own pony!” Harry grabbed Dany in a fine rendition of a bear hug. “Oh, thank’ee, Miss Foster, ma’am, thank-ee!”
Dany patted his head and made a silly face at Coop. “You’re very welcome,” she said, obviously content to take all the credit.
Coop shook his head and made the turn that would lead back to Portman Square. She made Minerva look like nothing more than a rank amateur...and somehow, he couldn’t be happier.
