34. Chapter 34 #2
Clearing her throat, she rose and kicked the discarded versions of her letter behind her. “Good afternoon, my lord. Is there something with which I can help you?” She did not look toward the bed even though, already, arousal heated her blood.
He gave her a considering look as if contemplating his next words. “As a matter of fact, yes. You can summon Babette to pack your things for an early morning departure.”
"We're leaving? Tomorrow?”
He pressed his lips together briefly. “You and Caroline, accompanied by Chip, will depart tomorrow. You won’t be heading straight for London, however, but for Harrogate.”
She stared at him. “I do not understand.”
He stretched his neck until it gave an audible crack. “My steward has informed me that he will be arriving later than planned. Thus, I will await him while I see to matters here.”
“You do not wish for me…er…that is for your sister and me to remain here with you? Perhaps we could help.”
He did not meet her eyes. Clasping his hands behind him, he began to prowl the room.
“It is not that I do not wish for you to remain, it is simply that, certain tasks require my immediate attention, and”—his jaw tensed—“I’ve decided having you here will hinder my progress unduly, and thereby delay our return to London. ”
In an instant, as if she’d swallowed something rancid, her stomach pitched. He had grown tired of her. Or perhaps, despite his apology, he still held a grudge for her reckless behavior yesterday.
“I see,” she somehow managed while schooling her features into a neutral mask—she hoped. Her face kept trying to crumple.
When he shot her a quick look and his eyes widened, she knew she had not succeeded.
“This is for your sake, as well,” he began, hurriedly, “As the estate needs will demand so much of my time, it will be far better for you and my sister to spend the time enjoying the waters rather than remain holed up here, bored.”
“In February?” she demanded in the haughty tone she’d long ago perfected.
“February?” he repeated.
“Never mind.” She turned her back on him and, seeking something, anything, to occupy her. She picked up the loose sheets of parchment on her writing desk. “I’m sure the baths will be heated. Thank you,” she said, stacking the papers before placing them and squaring the corners.
He’d said what he’d come to say, hadn’t he? Why didn’t he leave?
She would simply have to make him leave.
She spun to face him, chin lifted. “You know, the more I think on it, the better the idea of a holiday away from this desolate land sounds. Perhaps, we will make an extended holiday of it.”
After a brief hesitation, he inclined his head. “I think not. Caroline should not miss the Season entirely. Best if I join you at the conclusion of my business here and escort you both to London.”
She forced a scoffing laugh. “Indeed, no, sir. You’ll only spoil our fun. I insist you go on to London at your earliest convenience, just as soon as your important tasks conclude.”
A slight tightening of his features indicated she’d managed to annoy him. Good.
She pressed on. “Caroline and I will take our time enjoying all that Harrogate has to offer. If and when you happen upon an acceptable candidate for your sister’s hand, you may send word. And if you don’t, perhaps we will enjoy the healthful waters for the entire Season.”
His brows slammed together. “Do you really think it wise to speak for her in this instance?”
“Very well, perhaps I will enjoy the waters the entire Season. A lady’s companion can surely be obtained?”
He glared at her.
“If there’s nothing else? Feel free to see yourself out.” She waggled her fingers toward the door. “Perhaps you would be good enough to send Babette to assist me in my packing.”
He gave her a long, hard look. Then, his expression changed. Softened slightly. Speculation gleamed in the depths of his eyes.
She got the horrible sense he’d seen through her act.
Moving in unhurried steps, he approached her. The nearer he came, the louder her insides chattered, like so many birds squawking over handfuls of seed. He did not stop until he stood toe-to-toe with her.
“You’re sure you wish to prolong our time apart.”
“Of course. I said so, didn’t I?”
He nodded. “I must go out, shortly. Something off the island requires my attention.” As he spoke, he fitted one large, hot palm around her nape.
Though she fought it, a tell-tale shiver went through her. She swallowed. “Don’t let me hinder you,” she said icily, deliberately using his own word against him.
“Kiss me farewell?” he asked. Then he bent his head and took her mouth with his. The kiss was tender, searching, and devastatingly seductive.
Her knees went weak. Then, her arms, as if of their own accord, snaked around his neck.
A husky groan sounded in his throat, and he yanked her close, melding their bodies, before deepening the kiss.
In a matter of seconds desire for him was like a flame consuming her from the inside out. “Sterling, oh, Sterling,” she breathed against his lips.
“I know,” he muttered, breaking off the kiss. “But I must go.” He pressed his forehead to hers.
Whatever he read in her expression had him sucking in a breath, and summarily lifting her off her feet.
In the next instant, she found her back pressed to the cold, stone wall.
Holding her aloft with one strong arm around her waist, he used his free hand to jerk up her skirts ’til they foamed around her hips. “Wrap your legs around me,” he rasped.
“Y-yes,” she agreed, feathering kisses over his face as she locked her ankles behind him.
He reached between them to fumble with the fly of his trousers, then freed his erection. A moment later, the slick head of his manhood nudged her opening.
She tried and failed to contain her whimper of need as she arched and shifted her hips, inviting him to take her.
But he did not accede to her silent demand. Instead, he rocked his hips incrementally into hers, gliding his shaft over her fevered flesh. Again and again and again.
Soon his fingers wedged between them to trace her with the barest of touches. “Does this feel good, Annabelle?”
“Y—yes,” she answered without hesitation.
“And this?” he whispered, as he increased the pressure.
She choked out an inarticulate assent.
“Mmmm,” he breathed, circling her, faster. Faster. Bringing her close. So close. Then he nudged into her channel—and no further. His fingers danced over her, increasing the tempo, then lessening it with maddening effects.
She clung, she shivered, she kicked.
“Please,” she begged.
Only then did he plunge into her, sinking himself to the hilt. On his first withdrawal, her climax crashed through her with the force of a tidal wave and she sobbed his name.
“Yes, oh yes,” he said on a gasp, as he thrust into her in a relentless thrilling drive that had her pleasure soaring and her heart swelling in her chest.
She loved this man. Loved him more than she thought possible. More than she’d known she could. More than she ought.
She bit her lip to keep the words from spilling out, to stop herself confessing with her mouth what her traitorous body could not withhold even knowing he was sending her away.
His triumphant shout as he spilled his hot seed into her seemed to punctuate his victory over her. She wanted to weep in that moment, though not with regret, but joy. It made no sense. Love made no sense.
Still buried inside her, he lowered her feet to the floor. For several minutes, they stood like that, bodies linked in the most intimate way possible, hearts pounding almost as one, the scents of their lovemaking filling the air around them.
Finally, he heaved a heavy sigh, then he spoke, his words a low rumble in her ear. “I truly must depart before the daylight is no more and I’m forced to spend the night off the island.”
She nodded, but snuggled closer.
“Think of this when you pack for your holiday, madam wife, and let us hear no more of your wish to extend our time apart.”
“Why not? You find me a hindrance.”
“Ah.”
In one fell swoop, she’d undermined all her efforts to prove herself unaffected by his rejection. An idiot would hear the sullen inference in her words, and Sterling was no idiot.
“Annabelle—”
“Never mind. Go.” Humiliated, ashamed, she tried to disentangle herself from him and push him away. To no avail. He held her fast.
“I will speak as plainly as I know how. I strongly oppose you remaining overlong in Harrogate without me. When we return to London, I would have you by my side, on my arm, and in my bed.”
Her heart seemed to skip a beat. Several beats. He wanted her with him. If that was true, then why was he casting her aside, now?
“Why?”
“Because you are my wife.”
Disappointment swamped her. Her own fault, of course. She knew better than to harbor expectations. What was she to him but what she’d been groomed to be? A pretty face, a boon to make others envy him, an object to be desired.
And, at times, a hindrance.
“I will consider your request to join you…from Harrogate,” she told him, tightly.
“Request,” he scoffed. Then his expression softened. “Consider well, madam wife. I think you know I enjoy you, Annabelle, and have no wish to be deprived.”
He enjoyed her. No wish to be deprived. Like a child with his favorite toy? Or was he implying something more?
She told herself to stay silent, but the evidence of her own weakness for the man spilled from her lips, nonetheless. “Why, then, are you sending me away?”
He straightened, righting his clothing as he edged backward toward the door. “It is a matter of expedience. Nothing more. And Annabelle?”
Hope flared to life in her chest before she could stop it. “Yes?”
“Kindly refrain from going out during my absence.” In the next moment, he was gone.