DefeatedbyLove (12 page)

Christy came face to face with Simon when he left the
drawing room. She was standing in the hallway staring at him and he met her
stare with a blank face. Harry yanked open the door and followed close on his
heels.

“Where’s Daniel?” he demanded, looking around. Simon frowned
at his brusque tone.

“He left,” she quickly said. “He asked for his hat and
gloves and left.”

Harry marched over to the door. As he passed Matheson he
said, “Hat and gloves.” Matheson handed them over and Harry yanked open the
front door and took the steps two at a time. Matheson quietly closed the door
behind him.

“What is going on?” Christy asked in a loud whisper.

“Come on,” Simon said with a sigh. He took her arm and
guided her back to the drawing room. “I’ll explain.”

Christy pulled away once they were in the room and the door
was closed behind them. She turned and confronted him. “I heard most of what
was said. Luckily I ushered Robert out quickly so he didn’t.” She took his
hand. “Simon, you mustn’t be so hard on Harry. I do trust him, you see. I know
he’ll take care of things. He always has before. His leaving was one way he
tried to take care of them, don’t you see? He didn’t love me and I didn’t love
him. We are not well suited. Had he stayed we would have both been miserable
and he knew it. He left with my blessing. And he’s right. I’ve never asked him
to come back. I never wanted him to until I needed him to get me out of the
mess I made. I made it, Simon. Not Harry.”

“That’s not true,” Simon argued. “He does bear some
responsibility. Christy, the fact is that if he’d kept a closer eye on you, you
wouldn’t have gotten into this predicament. You wouldn’t have felt the need to
seek other companionship.”

“Argh,” she cried. She put her hands up and pulled her hair
in frustration. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. Simon looked startled. “Of
course I would have. Proximity wouldn’t have made a difference in our feelings.
Harry didn’t come back because he’s had a change of heart. He certainly didn’t
declare undying love for me. He admitted he didn’t even know I was here. He
came for Daniel, and you know it.”

Simon narrowed his eyes. “What do you know of Harry and
Daniel?”

“Everything,” she told him, exasperated. “And probably more
than you. Believe me when I tell you that Harry, bless his heart, may be more
than willing to step up and take care of me, but he has no intention of
becoming my husband in any way other than name.”

“That is not fair to you,” Simon said, his voice low with
displeasure. His face was like a thundercloud.

“Marrying Harry gave me security and a home,” she said
flatly. “Those were my most pressing concerns at the time. I didn’t care if it
went against his inclinations and trampled his broken heart. All I cared about
was myself. And that’s how I lived my life for ten years. Until this.” She put
her hand on her stomach. “And I forced Harry’s return because of this, not
because I was pining for him.”

Simon stood there with his hands on his hips, regarding her.
He looked left and right and down at the floor. She let him think. Men needed
an inordinate amount of time to do that sort of thing.

“You are far more practical than you appear,” he finally
said. He walked over and picked up a glass of brandy sitting on the table and
took a drink. Then he turned to face her. “Why is it you never show this side
when Manderley is here? You rarely show it to Daniel, either, though I believe
he suspects it.”

“Robert would not respect a woman like that,” she said,
turning away and hugging herself. “People have expectations. I try to meet
them.”

“And so you are different with everyone,” he said, his voice
neither condemning nor approving. “How do I know when I am talking to the real
Christy?”

“Strangely enough, the only time I feel I can be the real
Christy is with you,” she confessed. “You don’t seem to have any expectations.”

“Why did you really have an affair with your coachman?” His
question was merely curious, but Christy winced. He couldn’t see her reaction.

“I know I’m just an ignorant girl from the country who’s
gotten herself in trouble and you’re a very experienced gentleman,” she began.
She didn’t want to alienate him. She liked him. Actually she rather suspected
she was falling in love with him, which was disastrous. A man like Simon was
too good for her. But all the same, she wanted him. She deserved to have him,
at least once. She turned to face him. He was so devastatingly handsome in his
tan trousers and dark-brown tailcoat. His golden waistcoat almost matched the
color of his hair. Just the thought of being intimate with him had her sex wet
and pulsing with anticipation. Lately it seemed she was always like this around
Simon. She was a wanton strumpet and she didn’t care right now.

“You are not ignorant,” Simon protested.

“Oh yes I am,” she told him. “Although it isn’t my fault. I
don’t know my way about here in London society. I married a man who immediately
fled the continent, and I’ve been hiding in Surrey for ten years. I had two
servants who were more like family—which I don’t have—and a cat. I had very few
visitors because I was too good for the farmers’ wives and not good enough for
the squire’s wife. I read books, I embroidered, I helped cook, clean and wash,
and I raised geese. My accomplishments are few, if any.” She sat down. “All the
same, I made a life for myself in Little Hatten. It was a lonely life. I know
you wouldn’t understand. Because I was married, none of the men of my
acquaintance there would even think of approaching me for a more intimate
relationship. When the loneliness and the…need grew too much, I sought out a
man who would.”

“Very practical,” Simon said with a little smile. “The
coachman?” He still seemed no more than curious. It was actually rather
freeing, to talk about it.

“Yes.”

“And so you had a torrid affair?” He seemed intrigued by the
idea.

She laughed, but it didn’t sound very merry. “I do not think
what I had with Jonas was a torrid affair. More like…an experiment that
failed.”

“What do you mean?” Simon came over and sat down beside her.

“I mean that I’m the one who wanted it, not him.” She was
embarrassed at having to admit even a coachman hadn’t wanted her. “I wanted to
know what it was all about. I’d heard that he was very free with the ladies, so
I approached him. I had to force the issue the first time we were together. He
was not very enthusiastic. I wasn’t wealthy, I wasn’t experienced, I wasn’t
connected. There were no advantages to an affair with me. But he said a willing
woman was worth something on a cold night, and so he came when the mood struck
him.” She shrugged. “When I got pregnant he was furious. He lost his position
with the squire, naturally, and came to stay with us since I owed him.”

“Was he mad?” Simon asked incredulously. “How could any man
not be enthusiastic about…being with you?” His hesitation indicated he’d been
about to say something else.

She shrugged. “I haven’t a history of anyone staying for
long,” she said. “My parents died when I was young.” She ticked them off on her
fingers. “I was sent to live with my mother’s distant cousin, a virtual
stranger who was paid by Harry’s father to care for me. He was my guardian but
didn’t want to be bothered with me until I came into my inheritance. But my
aunt had her own children to raise and I was always the outsider, only there
because she and her husband needed the money. As soon as I was old enough they
demanded the Ashburys take me, but Harry went to war instead. Then, when he
came back and did marry me, he left rather quickly.”

“So you’ve only been with two men? That’s all?” Simon asked.
He still seemed curious, but there was more there. She just wasn’t sure what
the more was, interest or disgust.

“Yes,” she answered. “It seems I’m the girl no one wants,”
she added with a sad little laugh. “It seems I’m always forcing myself on men.
Why is that?” She looked at him then, and demanded, “Why is that? Tell me,
Simon. I really want to know.”

“I have no idea,” Simon told her angrily. “When it’s all I
have been able to do for the past two weeks not to throw you down and fuck you
silly.”

She caught her breath at his use of the same crude word Jonas
had used. It didn’t offend her. Instead it made her knees weak with desire.
“Then why didn’t you?” she asked.

“Stupid, foolish notions of nobility and integrity,” he
said. He yanked her into his arms. “I’ve lived without those things for years.
I don’t know why I can’t continue to do so.” His mouth descended on hers and
she melted into him.

His kiss was as divine as she’d remembered. More so. That
first kiss had been almost sweet, an exploration between strangers. This kiss
was desperate and hungry and it was Simon and Christy and all they knew about
one another now and all they had become in the last few weeks. It was a
testament to his desire for her, and hers for him. She positively ached for him
to do more, to throw her down and fuck her as he’d claimed he wanted to do. She
whimpered as he held her tightly, her breasts crushed against his chest, his
tongue tasting her mouth as if he were starving.

Simon broke the kiss and they both breathed heavily into the
charged atmosphere between them. “They won’t be back,” she whispered. She
clutched him, not willing to let go. “I’m going to have to leave soon, Simon,”
she whispered. “Don’t make me go without this.”

Simon slid his hand from her waist up to cover her breast.
Christy moaned and arched her back, loving the feel of his large, rough hand
squeezing her there.

“You need it, don’t it?” he whispered. “The reason I’ve had
such a time keeping my hands off you is because I knew, deep down inside, that
you wanted me as much I wanted you. This has been building between us since the
first moment I saw you.”

“Yes,” she said, panting. “I do. I want it. I need it.”

“I shouldn’t,” he said, his voice ragged, “but that’s never
stopped me before.” He kissed her again and then he yanked the shoulder of her
dress down, uncovering her breast, slightly swollen from the pregnancy. He
groaned and then took it in his mouth and sucked. She gasped at how good it
felt. Her nails dug into his arms and then he lightly nipped the peak and she
cried out. “Did that hurt?” he asked roughly. “Tell me.”

“No, it felt good. Don’t stop. Please.” She would keep
begging him if she had to. Already this was more than she’d ever known. She
wanted to be naked with him, to feel his member slide inside her and ride her
until they both gasped and came apart. She’d felt like that with Jonas a few
times, a shudder of pleasure that shook her to the core.

Simon gently lowered her to lie on the sofa. Then he kneeled
above her, between her legs, and ripped his coat and cravat off, throwing them
aside. “Damn me,” he said. “I should have done this sooner. Why I let Daniel
shame me into being a gentleman I’ll never know. It’s not a role that comes
naturally.”

“Do what comes naturally,” she said desperately. “I don’t
want a gentleman. I want to be fucked.”

His head dropped back and he groaned. “Why didn’t you tell
me that a week ago?” He jerked his head up and pinned her with a gaze that
scorched her. “You look the innocent, a lamb to the slaughter. And yet you use
the word fuck like a courtesan. How can I resist you?”

“Don’t,” she demanded through clenched teeth. “Don’t resist.
Fuck. I grew up in the country. I’m not one of your silly, genteel little
ladies who mince around London. I’m a fallen woman.”

“You are not a fallen woman,” he told her, yanking her
skirts up. “You’re a victim of circumstance. And I’m taking advantage of your
circumstances. I wish I had a conscience right now.”

“I don’t,” she said fervently. She grabbed his hand and
shoved it between her legs, pressing it against her sex. She arched off the sofa
at the feel of his rough, calloused palm on her sensitive flesh. “Oh God,” she
groaned. “I’ve been so desperate for this.”

He pressed a finger inside her and she writhed at the
exquisite feel of it. “God, Christy, you’re so wet and swollen,” Simon whispered.
“This is going to feel like heaven, and will be worth the hell afterward.” He
moved his finger then, in and out, and she gasped in shock.

“Simon,” she cried out, feeling as if her peak were only
moments away.

“Do it, Christy,” he whispered. “I can make you come again.”
He smiled and it was a wicked, sensual thing of beauty. “I’m very good at it.”
He moved his finger again. “I want to watch you come.” He moved his hand and
suddenly there was a finger pressing and rubbing on that little sensitive bud at
the top of her slit. She gasped and thrust against his hand. “Yes,” he said,
watching his hand between her legs. “Like that. So wet.” She could hear it
then, hear the sound of her own cream and she didn’t care. She liked the sound
of it, the feel of it, everything about Simon touching her so intimately.

He put a hand on her thigh and spread her legs wider and she
felt exposed, vulnerable, wanted. When he groaned at the sight of her and had
to adjust the bulge of his hard cock in his trousers Christy pressed her hands
to the sofa arm behind her and thrust against his fingers. It felt glorious. He
curled his finger inside her and she had to bite her lip to keep from shrieking
out loud at how good it felt. The pleasure hit her then, waves of throbbing
ecstasy coursing through her, and she pulled her legs together, holding his
hand and his arm hostage while she continued to thrust against them, moaning.

“By God, you are a lusty little thing,” he told her roughly.
“If I had known, I’d have fucked you long before this.” He pulled his finger
from her, lifted his hand and stuck that finger in his mouth. He closed his
eyes and groaned. “God, the taste of you. I’ve imagined it at night with my
cock in my fist.”