Amelia (The Marriage Market Book 1) (5 page)

Amelia smiled, "I think that would be a wonderful idea," she teased.

"No. My wife will be at home in our bed at night, so don't get any fancy ideas about…"

The sight of his face as he tried to keep his voice down was more than she could bear and she burst into laughter, the sound causing heads to turn.

Hugh blushed and she laughed harder.

"Come on," he said, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. "I think they're playing our song."

"Yes, Hugh," she said demurely.

He looked at her suspiciously before shaking his head and leading her to the dance floor.

"What else would you consider grounds for discipline?"

Hugh was silent as he twirled her around several times. "I would want your obedience in the bedroom."

Amelia stumbled, but recovered quickly. "I don't even know what that means," she whispered, turning to smile at a nearby couple.

"It means that I would expect you to…cooperate."

Looking at his pleased and slightly smug expression, Amelia wanted to stomp on his toes. "Cooperate?"

"Yes, exactly," Hugh replied. "Am I wrong to assume you don't have much, if any, experience regarding what takes place between a man and a woman in the bedroom?"

Amelia gasped. "Are you trying to insult me or do you just delight in embarrassing me?"

"Of course not," he assured her. "It stands to reason the one with the most experience in these matters should be the one to take the lead."

"And you have plenty of experience, is that it?"

Instinctively, Hugh didn't trust her tone. This was one of those questions where there was no correct answer. Looking down at her he took notice of the glint in her eyes.

"Let's have dessert," he suggested, leading her from the floor. "I think it's best we continue this conversation at the hotel."

Nodding, she allowed him to seat her once again. At the suggestion of their waiter, Hugh ordered Baked Alaska, which they enjoyed with very little conversation.

The ride back to the hotel was just as silent. Amelia's mind replayed every horror story she'd ever heard regarding the 'act' as she and her friends referred to it. Hugh was a big man, easily capable of making her do whatever he wanted. Once they were wed, she would be his property as far as the law was concerned. Was she being foolish? Had the entire idea of running away to find a husband who would love and understand her been one enormous farce? Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe in the end all men were selfish, demanding oafs only concerned with their own pleasure.

At her door, she thanked Hugh for a lovely night and tried to shut it before he could attempt to resume their conversation. He wasn't having it.

Taking her arm in a firm grip, he steered her into the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Hugh, it's late," she began, backing up.

"I know, I want to help you out of your dress."

"I'll bet you do," she snapped before she could clamp her mouth shut.

Hugh laughed.

"I can see we have a problem here. Amelia, if we are going to make this work, we need to be honest with one another. Why don't you tell me what has you so nervous and upset? Maybe I can help," he offered kindly.

Amelia narrowed her eyes and glared at him.

"I suspect you know exactly what's bothering me, Mr. Jordon. After all, you are the one with all the experience," she drawled sarcastically.

"You're angry you're not going to be my first," he accused, trying to hide a smile. "Maybe you should have settled on some young pup back east. Someone you could control and maneuver into waiting months and months before honoring your vows. That man is not me, sweetheart. When we are wed I will expect you to um…perform your wifely duties. In fact I'm looking forward to it."

Amelia shivered, her face going pale. He could see the fear in her eyes and sought to alleviate it.

"Tell me; what do you know about the things that take place between a man and a woman?" he asked gently. Striding to her, he cupped her cheek with his palm.

"I…"

"Come, Amelia, you must have heard something, some juicy tidbits of information overheard when young girls are not supposed to be listening."

"I haven't heard much, really," she stammered, looking away. "Only that it's painful and I should lay there and think of other things as I wait for it to be over."

Hugh smiled and pulled her close, holding her head to his chest. Good lord, she was priceless.

"Why don't you describe to me what you expect to happen?" he suggested.

"Well," she whispered, "I don't know for sure, but I've imagined it would start with a kiss or two."

"Yes, it usually does. Go on."

"Then you would tell me to take off my clothes and lay on the bed."

"It does help if we dispense with clothing," he agreed, nearly biting his lip. "However, I would definitely want to undress you myself. That's actually one of my favorite parts. What then?"

"I'm not sure, you understand, but I think the man would…"

"By 'the man' I assume you mean me?"

"What, oh yes, I guess so."

"Good. Go on."

"Well, I imagine you would want me to spread my legs and then you would…you would…"

"I would what?" he asked, genuinely curious as to how she would describe it.

"Oh God, you would mount me," she croaked out, burying her face in his chest.

"Mount you? You mean like a fish on the wall?" he asked, chuckling.

Amelia reared her head and glared at him.

"Or maybe like the giant head of a stag," he offered.

"You know that's not what I mean," she snapped, giving him a crisp slap on the chest. "I guess it would be more like mounting a horse or something you were planning to ride. Oh dear, I don't think I can go through with this. Perhaps I shall never marry."

"I'm pretty sure you will, darling." Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her to a large upholstered chair and sat, keeping her on his lap. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but you have several things quite wrong," he said sadly, shaking his head.

"I do?"

"Most assuredly," he informed her. "First of all, there is much more than one or two kisses involved," he continued, tipping her face up to his. "I find that it takes many kisses." He brushed her lips with his. "And not just kisses either. Nibbles are part of the process," he told her as he slid his tongue across her lower lip before he trailed his mouth along her jaw line. "Also some men like to give little love bites," he added, nipping at her ear lobe. "I myself enjoy a little sucking."

Amelia felt suddenly lightheaded as he kissed his way down the side of her neck. When he drew her skin into his mouth and began sucking, she squirmed on his lap. Soon he was back at her lips and she never noticed he had undone the back of her dress until he slipped it low on her shoulders, exposing the crests of her breasts.

"Hugh," she gasped, breathlessly.

"Shh, be good, Amelia. I've promised I won't hurt you."

Nodding, Amelia froze when he softly trailed the tips of his fingers across the top of her breasts.

"You have the softest skin I've ever touched," he praised.

She glowed with the compliment while his lips moved lower, lightly kissing her collarbone. Letting her head fall back and rest on his arm, she had no idea what she was offering, but Hugh did and he wasn't long in accepting. His dark head bent, his warm mouth grazing the sensitive flesh as he felt her quiver in his arms. Slowly his free hand tugged the bodice of her dress lower until her breasts were nearly uncovered.

Her berry-colored nipples were pouting, pushing against the fabric of her undergarment and it proved to be too tempting. Wetting the thin fabric with his tongue, he latched onto one bud, suckling weakly until she moaned and then increasing the pull as she cried out.

Cupping her other breast, he moved aside the fabric and plucked her nipple to an impressive length with his thumb and forefinger. Lifting his head, he blew on the wet material. Amelia arched her back and pulled his head back to her needy nipple.

Grinning, Hugh complied and bared that breast as well, moving from one sweet peak to the other, laving, sucking and occasionally giving them a gentle bite that had her wiggling her bottom against his engorged cock. Slipping one hand under her skirt, he stroked slowly higher, fully prepared to stop should she protest. She didn't. Instead, her legs fell apart with an audible sigh.

The heat of her was apparent from several inches away and when he cupped her, he wanted to stop sucking and growl with relief. Amelia was wet, warm and ready. He had no doubt he could take her now and enjoy every moment of it. Carefully, he moved his finger through the opening in her drawers and gently prodded her pussy before slipping inside.

Breathy little pants and wiggles encouraged him, but as soon as he felt her barrier he stopped.

Forcing his brain to disconnect from his cock, he withdrew his hand, stroking her smooth legs on the way.

Releasing the tasty morsel between his lips, he sighed and rose with her in his arms.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"It's time you were in bed," he said sternly, fighting the urge to toss her on the bed and continue.

"I'm not tired anymore." She clutched his neck. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, silly girl, but I almost did. I promised you a ring on your finger and a marriage certificate in your possession and I almost shamed us both."

"I'm not ashamed," she said firmly. "It was wonderful. I had no idea or I might have…"

"Don't you say another word," he warned. "I'm trying to be a gentleman here."

"Maybe I don't want a gentleman any longer," she teased, grinning up at him.

Hugh laughed and set her on her feet before the bureau.

"Where's your nightgown?" he demanded.

Amelia opened a drawer and took out a long white gown trimmed in pink satin. Handing it to Hugh she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him in challenge.

Spinning her around he swiftly unfastened the back of her dress and pushed her toward the dressing screen with a smack to her bottom.

"Put that on," he ordered, tossing it over the top of the screen and turning his back.

"Is this what you meant about obeying you in the bedroom?" she demanded angrily. "We only get to do what you want, when you want it?"

Hugh remained quiet until she stepped from behind the screen covered from neck to toe. Taking her hand, he pulled her back in front of the mirror and began taking the pins from her hair.

"You don't even know what you want," he informed her. "At least you didn't until I showed you."

"Oh yes, I'd forgotten," she drawled. "How lucky that my husband is so experienced he knows what I want at all times."

"I may not know what you want, but I know what you're going to get if you don't stop," he promised, meeting her eyes in the mirror. Swiftly he unbraided her hair and picked up her brush, giving it thoughtful consideration until she looked away with a pout.

"I thought so," he said with a satisfied smirk.

She stood still and quiet as he brushed all the tangles from her hair. Putting the brush down, he turned her toward him and gathered her into his arms with a sigh.

"I'm just trying to do the right thing, honey. I think we'd better get married very soon." Tipping her chin up, he kissed her and her anger melted away. "I'll always do what I think is best as far as you're concerned, Amelia. Whether you particularly like it or not, understand?"

Standing on tiptoes, she kissed his cheek and nodded.

"Good, now come and lock the door and go to bed. We have a lot to take care of tomorrow and I want to head home as soon as we can. Suddenly dallying here in San Francisco with you is becoming much too appealing," he said with a grin. "A man could forget his responsibilities entirely." Kissing her once more, he waited in the hall until he heard the key turn in the lock.

In his room, Hugh undressed and lay on the bed, his arms behind his head. She was going to be trouble, he admitted with a sigh. Placing the advertisement had seemed like an excellent idea at the time, but he'd looked at it as somewhat of a business deal. He wanted someone pleasant to look at and amenable. A women who would provide him with a child or two, keep his home running smoothly and not make too big of a nuisance of herself. Basically, he wanted someone the exact opposite of his mother.

Tempest Aurelia Beauchamp was easily the most aggravating woman he'd ever known. There weren't enough words to describe what was wrong with her, and some that came to mind couldn't be spoken in polite company. Insistent, demanding, flighty and infuriating were just the tip of the iceberg. While his father affectionately referred to her as his 'tempest in a teacup', Hugh and his brother Sam frequently wondered why their father didn't string her up or at least gag her.

The first years of their lives, they'd been dragged all over the world. Spending much of the time in France, they'd also been to India, Egypt and Australia. Around the age of thirteen, Hugh decided he'd had enough of ruffled shirts and prissy suits to last him a lifetime. Upon returning home to Seattle, he and Sam refused to leave, engaging in a war of wills with their mother that lasted nearly a year before she threw up her hands and packed her bags for an extended trip to her homeland.

Duncan kissed his wife good-bye and they all breathed a sigh of relief as she sailed away. After that, it seemed she came home long enough to have everyone in the house and surrounding area in an uproar, flaunt her wealth to those less fortunate and torment her husband and sons. At times it seemed to Hugh she was daring his father to stand up to her and put his foot down about her extravagant ways and impossible behavior, but Duncan never did.

"That's just her way, son. I can hardly fault her when I've spoiled her from the moment I met her. She was very young when we married and so beautiful she could have had any man she wanted. Sometimes I still can't believe she chose me, a lumberjack with calluses on his hands trying to get his business off the ground when she could have married a Duke."

"Did it ever occur to you she chose you because she needed someone to rein her in, someone strong enough to take her in hand, someone who was not awed by her family's wealth and social position?"

Duncan patted him on the back.

"You'll fall in love one day, son and then you'll understand how hard it is to say no to someone like your mother."

"I may fall in love, but I'll never let my wife run roughshod over our family the way you have. I'll never sit calmly reading the paper while she screams and upbraids me in front of our children," Hugh insisted firmly.

"What would you have me do?" Duncan demanded. "She's only a bit of a thing."

"I can't tell you what to do, Father, but if my wife ever speaks to me like Mother speaks to you, she'll be over my knee so fast she won't know what happened. I will take great pride in my accomplishment if she doesn't sit comfortably for a few days."

"Hugh, son, you must never strike a woman," Duncan rebuked him. "We are big men, and women are such fragile, delicate creatures. You could cause her great harm."