The Rake Enraptured (19 page)

"Am I to
leave you by the wayside, then?"

"That is not precisely what I mean. This skirt is very narrow."

"It is. If you will raise me, I will lift it further."

He shifted her, his hands hard about her waist, and for a moment she thought his labored breathing w
as from exertion, and then she decided that was unlikely. It must be some other cause. She looked at his face, before her now, but his attention was on the expanse of stockinged legs she had revealed. He lowered her until her bottom rested on his thighs.

His
hands followed his eyes, stroked over her legs, past knees to her ankles, which he encircled and drew closer, to fold her about him. "Can you sit there like that? Then my coat will cover you and keep you warm."

"I think so. You will have to hold me tight."

"I will, I swear it." His husky voice was fervent.

She wrapped her arms around his body so her hands met behind his back under his coat, her nose buried in the comp
lex folds of his cravat. It was an astounding sensation. Bared to him, completely entrusting her safety to him, able to see very little past his chest and her own bonnet. It was not comfortable. It was unspeakably stimulating, and when he urged his horse back into a walk she felt as if her limbs must have turned into water for she could not feel them at all, nor think, with the friction at her most vulnerable core. His body was there, mercilessly firm and so intimate, and she longed for even more, somehow.

"How much . . . further?"

"Too far," he said through gritted teeth.

"Ride faster."

They moved through trot to canter in three heartbeats, the communication between man and beast almost swift as thought, and the rocking motion, the thrust of his body against hers wiped her mind clear of every thought. Was that truly her, gasping and sighing against him? It could not be. It was.

"Oh Colin. Colin."

"Almost there."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

It was a small house standing in a garden full of trees and drifted snow. It was a blur to her. Their dismount was awkward, and he had to set her down for a moment while he stripped tack from his horse with hands that fumbled with haste, swift nonetheless, and led the mare into the single stall of the small stable, where oats and hay waited her.

Julia leaned against a doorway feeling most peculiar, almost boneless, charged with weird vitality and yet a desire to lie down. Finished with his horse, Colin gave her a single look then stepped forward to lift her in his arms.

He unlocked the door to the small house and pushed it open, carried her over the threshold and into the dimness within. The place smelled fresh, recently aired, and he did not even glance about but only shut the door behind him and went straight up the stairs with her. Her arms were looped around his neck and she could see only him, his jaw firmly set, his eyes hard and hot as they looked down at her, his nostrils flared.

She did not see the bed, only felt it beneath her as he lowered her to it.

"No. Wait. Clothes," he said, and as he lifted her back to her feet she had to laugh.

"Where is my master seducer?"

"Apparently not here, Mrs Holbrook. You will have to make do with me."

She stood patiently, quivering inside, as he carefully undid the buttons of her coat, lifted it from her and let it drop to the floor. He moved behind her to the tiny buttons at the back of her bodice. She felt them release, inch by slow inch. Urgency had
departed in this peculiar stillness. The room was quiet, and nothing stirred beyond it. Everything was silent. She could hear her own breath, and his, and the whisper of cloth, and no more.

He circled her again and stood before her as her forearms lifted t
o hug her loosened dress in place, and put his fingertips under her chin. She looked up at him.

"Stern governess." His thumb stroked an eyebrow. "Courageous adversary." His hand cupped her head. "Saucy jade."

"I'm not."

"You are. I can see it"

"No-"

"Stop
arguing with me."

"Stop trying to command me."

He sighed, and put his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes, too close to focus. She blinked at him. "Just this once, just for this moment, this hour . . . these days . . . cease to fight me. We are partners in this, you and I. Let us discover it."

"Days may be too much."

He gave a small huff of amusement. "Challenge yourself."

"For what prize?"

"Let us find out."

His hands went to hers, and urged them down and outward. The heavy brocade dress slid aw
ay, and she stood in stays, shift and petticoats.

He stopped her arms from lifting in an instinctive cross over her
chest. "No, don't hide from me. Your body is a wonder to me. Won't you let me see it?"

"You have seen so many. Much lovelier than mine,
I'm certain."

"Not one lovelier than yours. No other held you inside it."

"Oh." She eased a little, and he stepped forward and put his arms around her in a gentle clasp, a mixture of comfort and opportunity as his fingers went to work on the ties of her stays behind her back. She drew in a deep breath of him, of snowy fresh air from his coat and linen beneath it, pomade from his hair and fresh sweat from their ride. He smelled extraordinarily good to her, in a way that made her stomach clench.

Nervousness
rose in her again as petticoats suddenly slid free to bunch on the floor, but he did not release her and so she still felt hidden within the folds of his clothing. He pulled pins from her hair one at a time, then unraveled the laboriously woven knot of braids and spread her hair out over her shoulders, another refuge.

"Undress me?" he asked her.

"I don't know how."

"Then I may have to stay clothed. This is an extraordinarily fashionable coat. I'll be da- ah . . . very surprised if I can get out of it alone.
"

"Where is that valet when you need him?"

He quaked against her. "I prefer him absent, at this precise moment."

"What? Squeamish? Do you prefer privacy, then? You surprise me."

"Julia!"

"I only thought a man who has enjoyed the . . . events . . . to which
you can lay claim, must have no need for solitude."

"I can tell you categorically that what goes on with my lady wife falls into another category entirely. Furthermore I blame that correspondent of yours. A young woman should not know of such things."

"No? Such hypocrisy, when the young men are actually doing those things right, left and center."

"I did not do them right, left and center."

"How did you like to arrange them, then?"

"Julia!"

"What?"

"A little decorum, if you please. I'd like to worship y
ou properly, without all this-"

"Sorry. I am sorry. You're right." But it was hard to keep the thought of all those other women out of her head, when he must surely look at her and find her lacking. Her discomfort found vent in attempted humor. She was spo
iling this, when she wanted it to be something to treasure between them. "I'm sorry."

She reached up to remove his greatcoat, in a spirit of compliance, sent it to join her petticoats piled on the floor around their feet, but stayed very close to him so he
could not examine the slender figure he had unclothed. Never had she felt more conscious of her thinness, so far from the delight of dimpled elbows and knees.

It was his turn to wait patiently as she circled him, more comfortable behind his back.

"You may have to kneel," she told him, and he went down on one knee and spread his arms a little, ready to shrug out of his very elegant wedding clothes. She took hold of the collar with both hands and carefully eased it once, then again, he shifting within it to help her. She had to take it by the sleeves, one then the other, then by the collar again. Working in fractions of an inch until finally the thing came free, she breathed a sigh of relief when it was off. "What a dreadful garment."

"I wore it only for you
."

"I am most appreciative, but you need not exert yourself so much on my behalf."

"That's a relief. I am not the most fashionable man, I admit, and after several hours trussed up like that I remember why. It feels dashed good to do this again." He lifted his arms above his head, and she admired the magnificent shape of him in his shirtsleeves, the broad shoulders and lean muscularity. As he lowered her arms again she stepped forward to put her hand on the appealing place where his neck disappeared inside the collar of his shirt.

He went very still. His neck was warm.

"You don't look as dissipated as one might expect."

"I have not been, for a good six months and more," he said, tilting his head to look up at her where she stood behind his shoulder. She moved
to hide her small breasts from his sight but he kept his eyes fixed on her face. "I've been mostly on horseback, riding up and down fields and inspecting drainage ditches and crofts and culverts and copses and all manner of pieces of the landscape."

"I se
e."

"Perhaps," he said in the same casual tone, "you might come to untie my cravat and unbutton my waistcoat."

"I'm sure you can do those by yourself."

"Did you not promise, only hours ago, to be a very obedient wife?"

"I did, but you know that is just for form's sake. You do not expect it of me."

"Do I not?"

"No one could, who knows me well."

"And here I thought you so utterly virtuous, a woman of rules."

"Certainly. Yet I am careful about who makes those rules."

"I see. And your husband does not qualify?
"

"Not
my
husband, no."

"I am betrayed." He sighed and shook his head sadly. "Here I took you on under certain conditions, and now I find the conditions have changed. This will never do."

"Let me console you."

"How do you plan to do that?"

"I will help with your cravat and waistcoat."

"That might be some small consolation. No, you can't stand there to do it. You will have to stand in front of me. It is cheating to stay where I can't see you."

"You are mistaken. There are no such rules."

"Whi
ch rules are there?"

"I may do the task from wherever I can reach," she said, bending further over his shoulder to puzzle at his cravat.

Suddenly he twisted, wrapped one arm around her waist and tipped her towards him, catching her before she could hit the ground. She gasped, looking up at him, naked sitting on his knee, cradled in his arms.

"You'll find you can reach much better from here." He was smug for a short moment, then distracted as he looked down at her body. "Though perhaps the best option of all
is here," he stood and carried her to the bed, "where we can both reach much better." He laid her down on it then stripped off shirt and cravat with feverish haste, buttons flying. A moment later he paused, staring down at his boots. "Damn."

"What is it?"

"Oh, beg your pardon, but I've no idea where the boot jack is. Ah well. There's no helping it."

He leaned forward and kissed her ruthlessly, stealing her breath. Her hands came up to flutter about his shoulders, wide and lean and hard as they were. And ho
t. All of him was hot as he lay down full length, half on her, the weight of him pressing her down into the soft feather mattress.

"Wait," she gasped, and he lifted his head for a moment. "Your boots. You can't leave them on."

"You won't even notice. I promise."

"I shall. Of course I shall."

"Nonsense. Wait and see."

"Colin!"

"Julia!" he mimicked her merrily, then kissed her again. A moment later and she had forgotten the topic, forgotten everything but him, here so close. Her hands were on his bare chest and he said, "Yes," and "God, Julia," and then his hands cupped her breasts and the sensation of his thumbs circling her nipples was transcendent. She arched her back, pushing into his hands and as he rolled those hard-furled buds between fingers and thumb she cried out wordlessly.

His mouth was on her neck, sucking at her soft flesh, but as she writhed he moved further down her body to replace fingers with lips, his free hand sliding down her flank then beneath her to lift her bottom and grind her again
st him.

Her head fell back, neck muscles weakened beyond recall by pleasure, and she wrapped her thighs around his hips as on the horse, her body remembering the feeling as she sought to regain it. And there it was, the hard pressure against her center and
such a hunger in her to move against him, with him. She bucked and writhed, and he gathered her up and kissed her hungrily, devoured her almost, and she him, fingers urgently gripping and squeezing, straining to be close and ever closer.

"Julia," he groan
ed, and all humor was gone now. His voice sounded like raw need and there was nothing so riveting and purely magic as the sight of him wild and reckless and so far from the cool, well-practiced Lothario she had first met. He was here and hers and she was so glad of it in the hot molten core of her being, seething with want.

"Colin. Please. Now. Please."

"No. You need longer than this. It has to be good."

"It's good. Please."

Then his hands were there between her thighs, fingers parting the soft folds of her as they had that long ago night, so smooth and slick, unbearably teasing. She moaned and pushed closer.

He slid a single finger inside her, and groaned again, a guttural sound like anguish.

"Tight, Julia. Very tight," he said, and the words were both warning and prayer. "You're very small. We must go slow."

"Now!"

"No. Trust me. Only this."

"Ah, Colin," she wailed.

"I know. I know, sweetheart. Very soon. Only give me this moment. Give it to me. Come now. Let go." He murmured nonsense to her, and she closed her eyes and gripped him hard and forgot he was watching her, forgot the room and the bed and anything but the mad center of sensation that was her own body, fevered and yearning. His mouth on her breast and his fingers on her, inside her, so deft in secret knowledge and the energy of it crackled through her, lifted and burned her up until consciousness was a mote, and then nothing, and there was only bliss.

"Sweetheart, open your eyes."

She could not move. Ecstasy held her in its grip.

"Look at me."

Then he was there, above her, that beautiful face looking down at her, eyes half-closed as if in pain, hair rumpled and mouth open as he breathed swiftly. He was between her thighs, and his body pressed hard on her. Too hard, with a burning pressure. It hurt. Her eyes widened at the pain and he stopped, gripping his lower lip savagely between his teeth.