Lyn Stone Page 11

  He almost pulled away. But suppose he refused to make love to her? She might believe it was because he thought Clive was right about her, after all. She might even think he had only married her for the money. God, what should he do?

  But Lily answered the question. “We should go up to bed.”

  Guy stood, wordless in the face of her suggestion and helpless to deny her what she obviously wanted from him. What he wanted, too. She had been quite frank about missing being married. He took her hands and lifted her from the chair.

  Silently they left the library and walked slowly up the staircase to her room. When they entered, she went directly to the bed. The covers had already been turned back. With her back to him, she shrugged out of her robe and stepped out of her slippers.

  The sight of her white slender foot on the bed steps alerted him to something. This was not just a woman. Lily was a lady. Guy had precious little experience with the type. None whatsoever, in fact. There had been those who bore the title without the sensibilities, of course, but none so innocent as this. Her voluminous nightrail covered her from neck to ankle and she looked as if she meant to keep it on.

  What did she expect from him? And why was he simply standing in the middle of the room like a novitiate?

  “There is a robe you may have in the dressing room,” she told him.

  Be damned if he’d don something Bradshaw used to wear. He wanted no reminders of husband number one.

  He propped his hands on his hips, cocked his head and observed her for a few seconds. “No, thank you. I think we should begin as we mean to go.”

  She lay propped against the pillows like a sacrificial lamb, fingers laced across her breasts. Now she stared at him. “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “I will undress in here and I don’t believe I need a robe. Do you mind that?”

  Her mouth opened as if to speak, but no words emerged. She simply shook her head.

  “Fine.”

  He walked over to the chair beside the bed and began loosening his cravat. That discarded, he sat down and removed his boots, tossing them to one side. Again he stood in full view of her and continued to undress.

  Amazing how arousing it was to do such a thing when he’d never paid it much mind before. Damn, he didn’t want to terrify her with the sight of his nudity, but it wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen a man in the altogether before. She had been married for a number of years.

  He was down to his smallclothes and shed them quickly, his member springing forth with a will of its own. He glanced at Lily to see her reaction and saw that she had her eyes tightly closed.

  This was not good.

  He strode over to the bed, climbed in beside her and pulled the covers up to his waist. He propped his elbow on the pillow next to her and rested his head in his hand, just looking at her. “Open your eyes.”

  She peeked up at him. “You forgot the lamp.”

  “I didn’t forget,” he informed her.

  “But…but you should turn it out, don’t you think?”

  “Before we sleep I will. Can’t have a fire hazard.”

  She swallowed hard and her eyes were wide open now. No tears there, he noted. Just a bit of panic. “Why?”

  He didn’t even pretend to misunderstand her question. “I want to see you. Don’t you want to see me?”

  “But we always…”

  “New rules, Lily. We get to make our own. Are you afraid of me? Is that it?”

  She frowned. “Afraid?”

  “Yes, afraid. Take off that gown, I dare you,” he told her with a wicked grin. “Bet you a crown you won’t do it.”

  For a long minute she seemed to consider it. Guy held his breath, nearly wild with anticipation.

  Then she sat up abruptly, wriggled the hem up around her waist and whipped the nightgown over her head, tossing it to the floor. “So there. I am not afraid!” But she had pulled up the sheet to cover breasts that he had only glimpsed. An enticing glimpse it was, too.

  Guy grinned, thinking this could be fun if she let it. “What do you think? Should we toss caution to the winds and be wild?”

  “Certainly not,” she said with a huff. “You are behaving like a…like a…”

  “A licentious libertine?” he supplied.

  “Precisely!”

  “But you knew I was that when you proposed to me.”

  He teased the top of the sheet with a provocative finger and peered up at her from beneath his lashes, still grinning. “You can be one, too. I’ll never tell.”

  She gripped the sheet tighter, locking her arms beneath her breasts to hold the fabric firmly in place. “You’d like to reduce me to that, wouldn’t you!”

  “I would love to reduce you to that. And you would love it, too, I promise.”

  Again she huffed, but he could see she was beginning to breathe very fast. The pulse in her neck raced, plainly visible. Aroused or frightened?

  “Relax, Lily, we have all night. I’m not planning to rush you.”

  “Rush me?” she demanded. “You have me unclothed as I have never before been in the presence of a man and you are lying there naked as the day you were born and just as shameless as you were then, I’ll wager.”

  “It’s true. I have no shame,” he admitted with a heartfelt sigh. “You should have none, either. From the little I’ve seen, Venus herself would envy what you have and she displays it all for crowds to see. Not that I’d advise you to do that sort of thing, but—”

  “This is a totally inappropriate conversation,” she admonished.

  “Anything is permissible between husband and wife,” Guy informed her. “And never shared with anyone else. Pillow talk is not to be bandied about, ever. One of my rules.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You have rules?”

  “Certainly. One of them is never to do it in the dark.”

  “Why? Forget the one you happen to be with?” she snapped.

  “Ah, jealous already. See? You’re smitten with me. I knew it.”

  “Damn you, Duquesne. Why are you deliberately trying to make me angry? I had talked myself into this, but I didn’t realize you would be so—”

  “Irreverent,” he finished for her. “I know, and I sympathize with your feelings, I really do, but you see, I am the man I am and I doubt I’ll ever change. If we’re to get on together, you’ll simply have to loosen up those stays a little. Are you really angry with me?”

  She puffed out her cheeks and blew out a harsh breath. “No, only a bit shocked. And uncomfortable.”

  Guy had to give in. This was too new to her and she wasn’t ready. He tossed back the covers and got up, knowing her eyes would clamp shut the minute he did so.

  He trudged over to the lamp, twisted the key to extinguish it and then returned to the bed. “There. You’ll soon have broken another of my rules.”

  “You actually have more than two?” she asked, sounding a little braver and much relieved. “Pray tell, what is the other?”

  “I never go to bed with an unwilling woman. And here I am. No matter what you say you’ve decided, you aren’t quite willing, are you?”

  She remained quiet until he stopped rustling around to get comfortable. Then she said in a small voice, “Strangely enough, I find that I am. Still. That is truly odd, don’t you think? I must be more dissolute than I knew.”

  Guy breathed a prayer of thanks for her honesty, her forthrightness and the fact that he wouldn’t have to delay much longer.

  “There is nothing dissolute about you, Lily. Or this.” He leaned close and kissed her as gently as he knew how.

  Maybe he understood her fear just a little. He found he was afraid, too, but his fear had nothing to do with coupling in the dark. He could fall in love with this woman too easily.

  Loving someone terrified Guy and that feeling began to invade him now like the curling tendrils of a hardy vine. How much stronger hold would it have after they had shared the ultimate intimacy?

  Chapter Eight

 
Lily moved her hand and touched him tentatively. His chest felt hot, his heartbeat pumping furiously against her palm. The fire in the kiss almost burned away all thought, but she clung to awareness, not wanting to miss a single facet of the excitement he was arousing in all her senses.

  Never before had her fingers caressed steel-firm muscles such as this. His subdued strength sent fiery sparks darting through her, coalescing at places where sensation had lain dormant far too long.

  “Your hair,” he whispered. “Like silk. Soft…sweet…scented…golden…silk.” His tongue teased her ear as his palm caressed her neck and shoulder.

  She breathed in his scent, unable to get enough of the subtle, enticing spice he exuded. Intriguing, somehow foreign and dangerous, it beckoned irresistibly.

  The rumbling groan deep in his chest excited her so, she must have made some sound in reply, for he deepened the kiss, devouring her mouth as if he could not live without it. Realizing her effect on him sent a surge of power through her.

  He slid his arm beneath her waist and pulled her closer while his other hand stroked down her arm and smoothed over the curve of her hip. Lily tensed, suddenly uncertain about allowing this man liberties no one had ever taken.

  Jonathan had never… No! She would not think of him now.

  “It’s all right,” Guy whispered, again touching his lips to her ear as he spoke. “We’ll go more slowly.”

  “No,” she snapped, impatient with herself for hesitating. And for her wicked anticipation. “Have done with it. Finish it now.”

  He pulled back a little, still holding her. She could barely see the outline of his head in the darkness. “Perhaps we should wait. Are you afraid, Lily? Is that it?”

  She shook her head vehemently. “Not at all afraid, I swear. And it must be done.”

  He sighed loud and long. “We don’t have to. No one is keeping watch, you know.”

  “I want to,” she told him firmly. “And I want to now.” With that made clear, she clasped one hand behind his neck, fitting her mouth to his.

  This time it was she who heightened the passion, kissing him deliberately and feverishly while she pushed away the sheet between them and pressed her bare body to his.

  He responded swiftly, rolling her to her back and covering her full length, one leg insinuating itself between hers. She felt his member hard against her thigh and prayed he was not too large. He was a much bigger man than…

  “Lily,” he breathed her name, a harsh rasp next to her ear, then entered her slowly.

  The feel of him pushing inside her, filling her completely, stole her breath away. It was as if every nerve she had stood on end and quivered. Though she wanted to be done with this, neither did she want it to end.

  His hips moved against her, then he withdrew to thrust forward again. She bit back a moan, certain that to voice any pleasure would be unseemly. Women were not supposed to like this necessary evil. Necessary, she thought, unable to quell a shuddering sigh of ecstasy.

  Again he whispered her name, a nearly painful sound as he began to move more quickly. She lifted her body to receive him, increasing the indescribable feelings to fever pitch. Suddenly he thrust almost violently and she felt the heat of him suffuse her.

  When he stopped, a wave of disappointment washed through her. She felt she had almost reached some pinnacle of pleasure. Did women do that? Was there ever enough of this to satisfy? Did she dare ask him to prolong it next time? Would there even be a next time?

  He rested his weight on his forearms, his hands tangled in her hair, his face above hers. Slowly his mouth descended and tasted her swollen lips, tugging lightly at the lower one that felt so sensitized. “Still prefer brevity?” He moved his hips again, a pleasant weight against her, but he no longer filled her as he had before.

  “That…that will do,” she muttered.

  He moved off of her, disengaging their bodies, but instead of letting her go, he cradled her close.

  Lily welcomed that, though she still felt frustrated, almost bereft. Yet this closeness was the part of marriage she missed, Lily told herself. Men were the ones who craved coupling, who took such great pleasure from it. Women permitted it, so she had been taught, to keep their husbands happy and to procreate.

  She had never missed it all that much. But something about that bothered her now. Perhaps she really had missed being bedded, as in never having had it properly done.

  She suspected that Guy knew far more about this than Jonathan had.

  Just thinking about such a thing seemed so disloyal to Jonathan. It made her feel small-minded and altogether too wicked. He had been a wonderful husband, giving her their precious Beau and nearly everything else she had ever wanted.

  To desire doing this simply for gratification must be terribly immoral for a woman. “I was a good and modest wife,” she murmured against Guy’s shoulder.

  He kissed the top of her head. “I’m sure you were the best ever. But modesty is somewhat overrated at times.”

  Lily was now inclined to agree with him, but she said nothing else. She had done her duty. Their marriage was consummated, their business deal confirmed.

  Wanting more seemed greedy and she did not want Guy to see that baser side of her nature. The side that wanted him besotted with her, wanted him to lust after her, to make her love him and to fall hopelessly in love with her. What foolishness.

  That was wishing far too much for a woman of her practicality. Romantic thoughts, and especially lecherous ones, had no place in this scheme and were very likely triggered by the act of consummation itself.

  She should be perfectly satisfied to have Duquesne as a good friend, one who would lend his protection to her and Beau. Her son was everything to her and it should remain that way.

  If only she had the excuse of trying to conceive, she would not need to conceal her hunger for him.

  “I wish I could have another child,” she said. The thought slipped out of her mouth quite accidentally.

  “Ah, Lily…” He sounded so sad.

  “I know you would not want to and also why you would not, and there is no possibility anyway. I should never have said it. But you are so wonderful with Beau.” That was entirely true. It delighted her that he took such interest in her son. She patted his chest where her hand rested, enjoying the texture of his skin and the leashed power of the muscles beneath it. She made her voice light, whimsical. “You are such good father material. It seems a shame to waste you.”

  “Thank you,” he said after a few seconds of silence. “No one has ever paid me such a compliment.”

  When his hand began to wander and his lips touched her temple, she pulled up the covers and released a loud sigh. “Well, good night, then. Sleep well.”

  He might be ready to begin again, but she needed to acquire more control over herself than she had right now. The temptation was simply too great to tell him how she was really feeling and what she truly wanted him to do.

  Guy suffered in silence. She’d obviously had enough of him, though he had purposely left her wanting. His mistake, assuming she would then see the benefit of prolonging their love play the next time. He should never have thought of it as love play in the first place. It had been precisely what she had named it, the obligatory consummation. And now it was done.

  So much for enthralling her with his expertise in bed. With a disgruntled sigh that he carefully expelled so she wouldn’t hear it, Guy rolled away from her and attempted to sleep.

  Tomorrow held tasks he would sooner put off, the business aspects of their agreement. He had to examine account ledgers, both his and hers, make arrangements for repairs to his estate and contact a solicitor about naming young Beau heir to the Duquesne properties.

  Perhaps he would take the little fellow with him when he rode into Maidstone to see to the deed. Guy rather enjoyed the lad’s company and Lily needed to catch up on her rest after her ordeal in London, their harrowing trip here and dealing with her in-laws. He would arrange for guards among th
e footmen to watch over her. Though he felt sure Bradshaw was no longer a threat, Guy wouldn’t bet on it.

  While mentally listing her trials of late, Guy wondered whether he had rushed fences with the bedding. Yes, he should have insisted on delaying this until she had fully recovered. Surely exhaustion and tension, combined with her natural reserve, had been the reasons for her abruptness.

  Perhaps his own lack of sleep had impaired his judgment in dealing with her tonight. Yes, that was surely the case. He ought to have waited until they were both well rested.

  He vowed that from here on out, he would keep her delicate constitution in mind. But then memories of her escaping Bedlam on her own, proposing to a man she knew to be a raconteur and then riding hell-bent cross-country like the excellent horsewoman she was, made him think again. Lily, delicate? No. Not in body and certainly not in spirit. He almost laughed at the thought.

  She was no wilting violet, but a passionate, resolute and resourceful woman. Why then did she seem so confounded by the act of love? Why had she rushed him through it?

  She had admitted at the outset that she missed being married. Had he misunderstood what she’d meant by that? The only thing he could figure was that she still loved her husband and saw Guy’s attentions as a duty only to be endured and hurried along. Well, hadn’t she called it necessary?

  Her refusal to allow him to satisfy her confused him. He had dealt with rejection before, but never in this circumstance. Never in bed.

  Damned if he would deal with it again, even for the incredible pleasure of possessing her for the space of a few minutes. He had his pride. If she wanted him again, she could bloody well ask.

  Anger at and jealousy of a dead man kept him awake and uncomfortable most of the night.