Reason to Wed (The Distinguished Rogues Book 7) (14 page)

She sagged in her bonds, helpless but sated. “This was your fantasy all along. To have your way with me like this. That’s why you asked what I’d allow.”

He slowed his thrusts. “It hadn’t been at first, but…”

“I do trust you. I want you to come inside me like this,” she whispered. “I want you to have your darkest desires come true with me.”

His body flooded with heat at her words. His desire to keep Esme in his life became a desperate, palpable need. He wanted to marry her. He pledged his heart and his soul to her keeping, and with his body, begged her own in return. He fucked her harder than ever and when he exploded so powerfully, he almost couldn’t breathe for the thrill of it.

He told her the truth then. A truth he hadn’t realized until that moment he was so urgent to share.

“I love you, Esme. I couldn’t ever want anyone the way I want you. Not like this. You’re mine and I’m yours. Completely and forever.”

Fifteen

Esme quickly shook off the happiness Richard’s declaration of love evoked. No man meant such a declaration so soon after climax, and she knew that all too well. However, her heart wasn’t listening to her head at the moment and rejoiced instead that Richard felt so much for her as to want to say such sweet and tender things.

She flexed her fingers above her head where they were still tied. Her arms were beginning to ache from the position. The dead tree she was tied to was not at all comfortable either for her back. She hoped Richard’s fantasy, at least the part involving tying her up, was done with for tonight and he’d soon cut her down. She wanted to touch him so much.

When she’d taken a moment to really look at and listen to Richard when they’d first arrived at the clearing, she’d understood he’d been very nervous about sharing so intimate a fantasy.

It did seem a little out of character for him, but she hadn’t truly minded being bound. Restrained as if she were a barbarian’s conquest—stolen in the night as if she had no choice. She’d had a choice, and had chosen Richard. She did trust him and his fevered lovemaking had given her great pleasure in return.

As he withdrew, she exhaled and placed her feet back on the ground. “Ah, that’s better.”

He unhooked her hands and before she could take even one step, he lifted her into his arms and held her against his heaving chest as if he was still her master. “Did I hurt you?”

“Of course not. I would have certainly mentioned any real discomfort.” He laid her out on a large rock that was still warm from the sun and lifted her skirts again. He untied the cravat around her waist and set it aside. She pushed at him, eager to be free to run her hands over his body too. “Let me up.”

“I’m not done yet,” he warned.

“Truly?” She frowned at him but reclined again. His cock was soft and he did not appear even a little amorous. “What else do you want to share with me?”

He held up a dildo and kissed the tip. “This.”

He spread her legs and gently invaded her with it. After so much pleasure from his cock, she shrunk away from the chilled intrusion. “That’s cold.”

“Forgive me.” Next he bound her legs together at her knees with his cravat and pulled her skirt over her legs. He flung the blanket over her and stood back. “That’s it.”

“Richard, I cannot walk like this.”

“You’re not supposed to walk anywhere just yet.” He bit his lip. “We have to stay here a while longer.”

She frowned at that. “But we
are
going back to the manor tonight,” she told him.

“Yes, soon.”

He left her there, hands bound, knees strapped together, an uncomfortable feeling growing inside her. This was not the man she’d come to know. Richard Hill, Earl of Windermere, was a gentleman to the tips of his perfectly polished hessians. A lion in the bedchamber, but not so perverse as to leave a woman in discomfort.

Or so she had thought.

He returned half dressed and watched her silently as he buttoned himself up in his clothing. There was a peace about him she’d not seen ever before. He appeared confident. Content. Pleased, when she was so helpless.

She licked her lips to wet them. “How long have you wanted to bring a woman here?”

“Not long,” he murmured, toying with a lock of her hair that spread out toward him. He sifted the strands between his fingers then carefully returned it to the rock she lay upon.

“Why tonight?”

He glanced up at the sky. “The moon is full and the house party is a success. I was confident everyone would be too busy to wonder where we had gone. It was the right time.”

“Oswin knows.”

“And knows enough to keep his mouth shut about what we’re doing here,” he insisted.

She glanced around them as fear crept into her thoughts. She twisted a little to take in her surroundings again. It was very strange to have a dildo inside her body without using it for pleasure, and they were very alone. “Will I be murdered next?”

“That is what I thought you’d ask.” He chuckled softly then stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I’d never hurt you. I wouldn’t dare, and I don’t want to except for the occasional spanking you might require.”

That wasn’t reassuring. She lifted her head and struggled. “I want to leave.”

“As you wish.” He sighed and flung the blanket away, unbound her knees and then carefully removed the dildo. He flung it away, into the woods lying dark below them. “Is that better?”

“Yes.” She eased off the rock and put a little distance between them, quickly buttoning the front of her gown so she was decent again. Her hair she couldn’t do much about but it was undoubtedly tangled.

“Oh, you should see your face.” He laughed outright then, like a young man in love with his life and everything in it. “Come, come, Esme. Let us walk back to the horses arm in arm as the very good friends we are. I have what I want.”

“What is it you wanted?”

His laughter died. “Everything. To make love to you in the most significant way a man in my family could. Without doubt or holding back anything I was feeling.”

When he stretched out his hand, she accepted it. Assured he wasn’t about to murder her, she drew close to him. He tucked her arm through his and led her toward the path he’d traversed carrying her over his shoulder. She’d been too wrapped up in scolding him to notice the terrain wasn’t smooth or even. Far fewer people went to the mount than must go to the woodland glade. She shivered, understanding the effort the trek must have required and impressed he’d carried her up the mount in the first place to save her the hardship.

He tugged her along until they reached the horses then helped her mount. He was gentle and sweet and not at all like the man who’d thrown her over his shoulder and carried her off like a barbarian intent on ravishing her.

She’d enjoyed his ravishment, actually.

They rode in silence again but she couldn’t stop looking at him. He
was
different somehow.

His smile widened suddenly and she grew alarmed. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“It seems Oswin couldn’t keep his mouth shut after all.” He pointed ahead. Lanterns had been placed at regular intervals from the stables leading toward the manor house. “You’re being directed home, my lady.”

“Home?”

He nodded. “In my family, every woman a Hill takes into the woods, to the high clearing, becomes a bride that morning. It’s tradition to take the woman you want to marry to the wishing tree to ask for the blessing of offspring and prosperity.”

Her stomach dropped. “I’m not a bride. You are certainly not my husband.”

“Not in a legal sense, no.” He smiled without concern for her protest. “Not yet.”

“Not ever.” She reined in her mount. “I will not marry you.”

“You already did. I gave you my heart, my soul, in those woods. I am in love with you, and that only happens once for a Hill.”

“You did not mean it,” she protested. “No man or woman ever means what is said during intimacy. You cannot love me.”

“I do. I will always love you.”

She peered ahead and noticed shapes moving in the shadows. “Dear God, there’s a welcoming party?”

“You were a popular choice. My butler even pulled me aside and demanded to know what my intentions were. I didn’t have any that day, but I do now.”

Esme covered her face. “Stop this nonsense, Richard. I cannot and will not marry you.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

She kicked her feet clear of the stirrup and dismounted recklessly without help. She staggered away from the horses, horrified that he’d not understood. Darkness was better than facing up to an impossible situation.

Richard must have dismounted too because he grabbed her and tried to embrace her. “You love me. I know you must.”

“Love doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

Esme pushed hard against him, seeking solitude. “Love won’t matter one bit when I deny you the son you need. I told you I was barren. I cannot have children.”

“We will in time,” he protested. “Esme, I cannot marry someone else and feel this way about you.”

“Of course you can, and you must. Your happiness matters a great deal to me, but it will matter even more to the people who look up to you, depend on you. You need a son and I cannot ever give you one. I will not go through a second marriage like that.”

“Surely—” he started but when she held up her hand for silence, he held his tongue.

“You and your people deserve better than me. I am, as my husband so succinctly put it once, as barren as a brick. I will never give you a child, much less an heir.”

He was silent a moment.

“I know my limitations, Richard. I have never conceived. Not once with the dozen or so lovers I’ve had since becoming a widow.” She held out her arms. “Why do you think my affairs are short-lived? They must be. Too much is riding on your succession for me to be so selfish as to allow this. I will not permit the title to pass to Adrian Hill’s offspring if I can help it. You must marry someone else and have a child with them.”

“I had hoped you were simply trying to reassure me you had no expectations beyond being my lover.” He dragged her into his arms. “I’d thought you put on a brave face so you couldn’t be hurt if we fought again.”

“The bravest face I possessed to hide my disappointment in
myself
. I told you our first night together that there was no need to worry because it’s the painful truth.”

“But I need you,” he whispered as he kissed her brow. “I couldn’t have gone through with the ritual with anyone but you. I’ve never wanted to do that to any woman.”

She stilled. “Ah, so it was not your fantasy but a duty.”

“Yes,” he hissed. “I like your hands on me too.”

“Then you must remember your duty to your family. Find yourself another woman to wed. I am sure she will easily love you.” Her voice caught on the last word and she shook her head as she discovered her claim was all too real. She had fallen in love with him, and now she had even more incentive to give him up than ever. “We had a wonderful dalliance and it must end.”

“No. We can be together until I find a bride.”

“And risk hurting yourself even more.” She evaded his embrace. “Be reasonable.”

He took a step in her direction and teased her jaw with the tips of his fingers. “Tell me I didn’t imagine how good it was between us?”

She wanted to turn into his embrace for comfort, but it would be a mistake and might make him think there was hope.

“It was good.” She smiled that he could still need her reassurance. “You are the best lover I’ve ever had.”

He bit his lip. “So the sex is all that counts with you.”

“Telling you I fell in love with you too would change nothing.” She stroked her fingers down his face one last time. “Be at peace, Richard, and take my dreams with you. I’ll hope they come true for you soon.”

“Don’t go,” he whispered when she eased back.

“I have no choice. I can’t stay.” She strode toward the house but without intending to encounter any of the Hill family servants who sought to welcome the new
bride
home. Her heart ached as she quickened her steps, almost running away from Richard and all he’d blindly offered. As she went, she wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks. She’d marry Richard in a heartbeat if only she wouldn’t ruin his life in the process.

Desperate for comfort from one who would understand her pain, she made her way to Harriet’s bedchamber and knocked on the heavy door. “It’s Esme.”

The door opened quickly and instead of Harriet, she faced Miles Hammond in a state of undress. She forced her emotions away, along with her shock at seeing him there after midnight.

He blinked. “Sweetheart?”

“I need Harriet,” she whispered.

He ushered her inside and closed the door behind them.

Harriet was sitting up in bed in a demure nightgown. She spared Esme a fleeting glance and then grimaced. “Windermere took
you
to that damn wishing tree too, didn’t he? Perverse bastard.”

Harriet threw herself out of bed and rushed to embrace her.

“He’s not like Avery,” Esme promised. She winced at the broken quality of her voice and straightened her spine. “He imagines us married.”