A Dream of Desire (21 page)

He stared at her, his gaze tracing her face as if he’d never seen her quite this way before. Then he lifted a hand to touch her cheek, brushing his warm fingertips against the hollow beneath her cheekbone and stroking down to her throat. Her skin tingled in reaction. He rested his fingers against the base of her throat.

“How do you know all that?” James whispered.

“I know
you
.” She swallowed hard, her gaze searching his face as certainty flooded her heart. “I’ve never thought of you as Lord Castleford. To me, you’ve only ever been James.”

My James.

“God in heaven, Talia.” A tremble coursed through him as he cupped her cheek. He brushed his thumb against her lips, sparks flaring in the darkness of his eyes, as if something lit within him. Then he lowered his mouth to hers, his touch hesitant, uncertain, feather light.

Talia placed her hand on the side of his neck and shifted. Warmth surged through her as their mouths settled together in a tender kiss that seemed to encompass all the years of their friendship. His lips were so warm against hers, seamless, his hand sliding around to the nape of her neck as he drew her closer. The world dissolved around them, and she fell again into this moment of lovely pleasure.

“I…” He lifted his head, his breath hot against her lips even as restraint corded his muscles. “Talia, have you any idea what you’ve given me over the years? You’ve been the only woman I’ve ever relied on, the most steadfast, loyal person I know. Whenever I’ve dreaded returning to London, I’ve thought,
But Talia will be there
and then I’d anticipate seeing you again.

“I’d think of our talks and outings and games, of how you’d like whatever trinket I’d brought for you. I’d think of you inviting me for tea, and that you’d be certain to serve all my favorite cakes and you’d know exactly how much sugar to put in my tea…you’ve been the
one
good thing here in London, Talia, the only reason I’ve actually looked forward to coming back.”

Talia’s breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering.
Then love me, James.
The wish bloomed bright and hard again, as if the ice surrounding it had melted under the warmth of spring sunshine.

“But I…” He pushed away from her, his jaw clenching. “I’ve given you
nothing
in return.”

Talia pressed a hand to her chest. Disbelief spilled through her.

“You…you think you’ve given me nothing?” She almost couldn’t voice the question.

James spread his arms out, his expression dark. “What? What have I ever given you but grief, Talia?”

A lump formed in her throat. She gripped the folds of her skirt, her breath coming in shallow bursts as she turned to the door.

“Come with me, James.”

“What?”

“Come.” She sharpened her voice and strode from the drawing room without looking to see if he was following.

A moment later, she heard his boots ringing against the marble floor of the foyer. She climbed the stairs, her senses prickling with awareness of him behind her. She pulled another breath into her lungs and went to her bedchamber, flinging the door open wide.

James stopped in the doorway. His shoulders were tense, his expression wary as he cast his gaze about the feminine room—the soft, airy curtains and white lace counterpane, the paintings of cloud-peppered skies and idyllic landscapes populated by languid figures in flowing Grecian robes.

James settled his gaze back on Talia with faint surprise, as if struck by the fact that she had invited him into this very private space. He took a step backward.

Talia turned and opened the bottom drawer of her desk. Her hands shook as she removed the bundles of letters and slid them from their binding ribbons. One by one, she tossed the bundles onto the bed, where the papers piled into a hill. Talia grabbed one from the top and opened it, her vision blurring as she read the first line of James’s bold handwriting.

“‘I wish you could hear these drums, which the Ceylonese use instead of flutes or wind instruments,’” she read aloud. “‘They say it produces “a sound like thunder breaking on a rock, against which the sun rises,” and I daresay that’s a most apt description…’”

Talia let the page flutter back to the bed and picked up another. “‘There was a storm at sea tonight, huge waves looking as if they’d swallow the ship whole before they appeared to melt away beneath us, rather like a vicious-looking dog who turns out to be docile upon approach…’”

Another letter. “‘Cape York is astonishing. I wish you could see the Crimson Cliffs, for they truly are a reddish color. Beyond was an iceberg almost perpendicular on one side, with a fringe of crystal icicles and columns slender as those one might see on a mosque. There was a gallery, too, of the most astonishing emerald-green (of course, that brought you to my mind), and with the sun glittering from above, it all resembled something from a fairy tale…

“‘The Japanese garden is beautiful in summer, with wild strawberries blooming along the walkways and water lilies floating on the pond. Amid flowering plants at the teahouse we sat at square, lacquered tables laden with teacups, sweetmeats, cakes, and bowls of rice and fruit. The tea was quite good, though somewhat bitter, and I admit to a brief longing for my oversweetened Indian tea…’”

Talia dropped the letter and grabbed another, another, another. “‘The summit of Ekeberg Hill in Oslo affords one the most lovely view, a sea of rolling pastures dotted by red and white cottages…Today I visited the garden at Fort William, where there is an abundance of raspberries, gooseberries, strawberries, and currants (I am quite certain your father’s cook would make an excellent muffin with such large berries as flourish here)…The stream enters the Tigris approximately five miles below Baghdad, and the remains of a bridge and the geographical position lead me to believe it is the Isa Canal…’”

The pages fell from Talia’s fingers like autumn leaves as a thousand images crowded her mind—all evoked by the scrawl of James’s writing, the allure of his adventures.

He hadn’t moved, an odd stillness surrounding him as he watched her, his expression unreadable.

Tears choked Talia’s throat. She went to the curio cabinet resting against the opposite wall and opened the doors. From the numerous drawers and shelves contained within, she pulled out items and put them on the nearby table. “A Greek coin. An Indian arrowhead. Shells and sea glass from the Indian Ocean. Roman pottery fragments, a tiger’s tooth, a Chinese lantern, a Persian inkstand…”

She stopped, her tears overflowing, barraged by the reminder of how everything he’d sent and brought to her had filled her with so many hopes, wishes, and dreams. His letters, all the imaginings they evoked of distant, exotic lands, had even sustained her in the dark days of her mother’s abandonment.

“My God, James.” Talia whirled to stare at him. “Have you not known? You think you’ve given me nothing?” She shook her head, swiping at her eyes. “You’ve…you’ve given me the
world.
”

He pushed away from the doorjamb and closed the distance between them in three long strides. Before Talia could speak again, he grabbed her shoulders and hauled her to him, his mouth descending on hers with a kiss as fierce and potent as a storm.

Talia gasped, her body softening in uncontrollable response as she parted her lips to allow him inside. His tongue swept into her mouth, a deep invasion the complete opposite of his previous hesitant kiss.

“I cannot drive you from my thoughts,” he hissed, his hands moving to the sides of her neck as he angled her mouth to his. “I could be in the middle of a desert, the summit of the tallest mountain…and I would be thinking of
you
. In the outback, I lay awake at night imagining how much you’d like the land, the stars, the animals. I wondered what you were doing back in London, what parties you were attending, what dress you were wearing, if a man had requested your hand…and how I would not be able to bear it if you accepted.”

He brushed her tears away with his thumbs, his gaze searching her face. “I wanted to write to you, Talia, so much. But you so consumed my every thought, I…I feared what I would say to you.”

Talia swallowed hard, reaching up to skim her fingertips against his cheek. “Tell me now.”

Heat flared white-hot in his eyes, even as he started to draw away from her. Talia slipped from his grasp and went to close and lock the door, her heart pounding wildly. She returned to twine her hands around his neck and pulled him back to her.

“Don’t run away, James,” she whispered against his lips. “Not from me.”

He muttered something beneath his breath, tension still coiling through him as Talia pressed her mouth more firmly to his. She gripped his shoulders, warmth flowing in her blood and assuaging any hint of doubt.

“Tell me,” she repeated.

“I feared I would confess how much I desire you.” He tightened his hands on the sides of her head and stared down at her. “I
wanted
to tell you that my dreams of you were wholly indecent, that I’d wake at night aching for you…God, Talia.” He shook his head. “I shocked even myself with the utter lewdness of my thoughts.”

A smile tugged at Talia’s mouth. Only because it was James did she experience a riotous thrill of both excitement and purely feminine satisfaction. He may have refused her love, thwarted their first kiss, but the idea of them together had flourished in the secret recesses of his mind. He hadn’t been able to dislodge thoughts of what they
could be
…if they both dared to surrender.

“Kiss me again,” she whispered.

He did. A fleeting hesitation warred with his desire before he lowered his mouth to hers on a groan. Talia met him halfway, her heart blooming with both certainty and pleasure, as if all the years she’d spent longing for James had led to this one moment. His hands flexed against her waist, then spread up her back as he pulled her closer.

Emboldened, Talia sank against him, absorbing the heat of his body as their kiss deepened. She knew instinctively that she had to be the one to push matters forward, as James would most certainly fight to protect her virtue…no matter how badly Talia wanted to give it to him.

She threaded her hands through his thick hair, her head filling with the warm, salty scent of his skin. She stepped forward, catching him off guard and tumbling them both onto the bed. She fell on top of him, her arousal intensifying at the sensation of his long body stretching beneath hers.

James tightened his hands on her waist. “Talia—”

“Stop fighting this.” She uncoiled her legs, pushing up her petticoats to straddle him, his hard thighs pressed between hers. A bolt of arousal shot through her. “Make both our dreams come true, James.”

Finally.

She planted her hands on either side of his head and lowered her mouth to his again. Spurred by pure instinct, she captured his lower lip between her teeth and slid her tongue against his. A groan shook his chest. Talia’s fingers trembled as she sat up and pulled his loose cravat from around his neck, then began unbuttoning his linen shirt.

Her heart lurched as his body was bared to her questing touch. She stared at the hair-roughened muscles of his chest, the ridges leading to the waistband of his trousers. With a hard swallow, she pushed his coat off his shoulders, then moved back to allow him to hitch the shirt over his head.

“Oh.” Her breath escaped on a rush, a coil of pleasure winding through her as she drank in the sight of his naked torso, his smooth, taut shoulders, and his corded arms.

“You’re beautiful,” she said truthfully.

He gave a muffled laugh and shook his head. “I’m a weak, useless coward where you’re concerned, Talia, but for the life of me I can’t bring myself to care right now.”

He pushed upward, rolling her swiftly onto her back as he came over her like a lion approaching its prey—all hot, golden skin and fierce eyes, his sun-streaked hair spilling over his forehead. Excitement and apprehension burst through her.

She parted her lips in invitation, then sank into the kiss when their mouths met again. She dimly thought she could lie there kissing James for hours on end, even as urgency began to throb in her lower body. Her clothes seemed to constrict around her, her breath shallow against the compression of her corset.

She squirmed beneath James, sliding her hands over the ridges of his abdomen. “James, I…I want…”

He uncoiled to sit up, his skin flushed with heat. He extended a hand to touch her, then stopped.

Talia stared at him, the air between them crackling with energy. She shifted off the bed and got to her feet, reaching up to tug her hair from the pins. She held the long mass away from her neck and turned her back to him. For a heart-stopping second, he didn’t move. Then she felt his hands at the nape of her neck as he began unfastening the buttons marching over the back of her gown.

She shrugged out of it, letting the printed cotton fall in a puddle at her feet, and unfastened her petticoats. She reached behind her to tug at the laces of her corset.

“Hurry,” she murmured, her skin tingling with anticipation for his touch, every part of her being aching to be free of the confinement.

He loosened the ties enough for her to unhook the corset in the front and slip it off. Talia took a deep breath, her entire body softening with pleasure. She became painfully aware of her nakedness beneath her loose cotton shift, the weight of her breasts, and warmth collecting between her thighs. She crossed her arms, anxiety twisting through her suddenly.

Then James settled his hands on her hips. With an exhale of breath, he stroked the curves of her hips, around to her buttocks, down to her thighs. Talia trembled as the heat of his palms burned through the thin cotton.

“Turn around,” he whispered hoarsely.

She did. Nervousness fluttered in her belly. James’s eyes burned with heat as he cast his gaze over her, lingering on the swells of her breasts, the firm nipples tenting the material. He cupped her left breast in his hand and then, to Talia’s shock, he leaned forward and took her right nipple into his mouth.

Talia gasped, clenching her fingers instinctively in his hair as the heat of his mouth jolted arousal straight to her core. Through the damp material of her shift, he sucked the taut bud between his lips and rolled his tongue over it until Talia’s breath burned her lungs and trembles coursed through her blood. Then James grabbed her waist and brought her back onto the bed.