Chapter Eighteen
Their kiss deepened, and Niki felt his need for her surge through him.
It was so powerful, he struggled to contain it.
He wanted to take her mouth with his and have her soft body molded beneath him.
It was the sort of primeval urge he could not remember ever feeling.
He had never felt as if he could let down his barriers in such an intimate situation, let alone enjoy it.
He was embarrassed to admit to his virginal state, so he didn’t. Let people believe what they wished. But right now, he did not feel like a virgin. With Roberta, he felt eager, and confident, and welcomed.
He wanted to explore her body, make her cry out with the same need as his, and then claim her.
Make her his in the most fundamental of ways.
But he couldn’t. Not when she was so vulnerable. He could not betray her trust. This wasn’t who he was.
He moved away, creating distance between them, and pushed his windblown hair from his eyes. Had he really been thinking of doing such things, after he had called her his “friend”? It felt like something Karl might do, and he was shocked.
And at the same time, he couldn’t deny his attraction to her.
Roberta blinked, her blue eyes on him. “I shouldn’t have done that,” she said. Then she bit her lip and glanced at him from beneath her sooty lashes.
Niki squeezed his hands into fists to stop himself reaching for her. “Tell me what you are thinking,” he said, “whatever it is. We agreed, did we not?”
She glanced at him again, and then lifted a hand to her lips. He could see it was trembling, and once again he wanted to reach for her, but once again he stopped himself.
“I was going to say that I find kissing you rather nice,” she said, and lifted her chin as if to dare him to call her improper. “But I understand why we needed to stop. I did not realize when I suggested we start kissing that we might have trouble being able to stop kissing.”
He chuckled wryly. “Neither did I, although I should have.” He met her gaze directly because he wanted to see how she reacted to what he was about to say. “I have wanted to kiss you since the night you spoke to me at the ball, the night I was shot at. Maybe even before that.”
Her eyes widened, and then she began to laugh. She laughed so long he grew concerned he had said something stupid and that she was laughing at him. But at the same time, he was certain she would not do anything so cruel.
“Niki,” she said at last, her voice husky from laughter.
“When we met, I was near enough to seventeen and certainly no child.” Then, her eyes clear and questioning, “Did you not realize how infatuated I was with you? I desperately wanted you to kiss me. I blurted out the stupidest things because whenever I was with you, I lost what wits I had. And then I turned a cartwheel in front of you, and you went as red as a beet.”
He tried to digest her words. She had wanted him to kiss her? “I have never forgotten your cartwheel,” he admitted. “I had never known a young lady to do that before.”
She smiled kindly. “I think you have led a very sheltered life.”
He choked on laughter but refused to let it free. “And when you stole my horse? Was that because you wanted my attention?” He said it lightly, because she had given him so much to think about, only now wasn’t the time.
“Hmm.” She gave him a sparkling look. “I think that was because I wanted to ride Leopold.”
He laughed with delight. Everything about her delighted him.
Roberta’s gaze moved past him, and she stood up abruptly.
Niki followed her gaze and saw one of his bodyguards riding past. Had he seen their intimate moment, and did Niki care?
There were already whispers about their stolen kisses.
They had been meant to convince the doubters to their fake engagement, but somehow, they had become more than that.
Whatever was between them was no longer fake, at least on Niki’s part.
That night, supper was a smaller meal but just as informal.
The children were cross and tired, and their mothers and fathers had decided so were they.
Justina and Charles had returned to London and Cadieux’s, but there was a new visitor to Grantham.
Sir Will Tremeer, the brother of Vivienne, the Duchess of Grantham.
He was a bright young man who seemed to get on with everyone, although Niki did not remember him from his visit three years ago.
Will remembered him. Niki could tell from the suspicious gleam in his gray eyes, so like his sister’s, and his rather curt responses to Niki’s questions, that he did not think much of him. It was a little painful to realize how bad an impression he had made on some of Roberta’s family.
He rather thought Antonia was particularly fond of Will. The way she gravitated toward him, and the blush on her cheeks. Will was harder to read; he seemed to be friendly with everyone and did not choose anyone in particular to lavish attention on. Was Antonia infatuated with Tremeer?
That reminded him of what Roberta had said earlier. He had thought about it a great deal. Her infatuation with him, her longing for him to kiss her, her desperate need for attention when she was in his sphere. There had been an attraction between them even then. Just a bud, but it had been there.
Now that attraction had blossomed, and he didn’t want to be away from her.
Of course he couldn’t stand about like an oaf, staring at her, but even when they were apart, he was aware of his need to find her again.
For someone who was always in complete control of his feelings, Niki was beginning to lose his grip.
It worried him, and yet he could not seem to help the gradual easing of that iron hold he had always relied on.
He tried to concentrate on the company around him.
He wanted to change Will Tremeer’s mind so he would not think him even more rude and arrogant than he already did.
It mattered to Niki because this was Roberta’s family, and he would like her to see he was trying hard to change their opinion of him.
Families were complicated, and not just his own.
“What is it, Lily?”
Roberta’s question interrupted his thoughts, and he noticed the small girl standing in the doorway, thumb in her mouth. The egg artist. When she blinked at him with her sleepy blue eyes, he found himself charmed.
“She wants my dolls,” Edwina said, giving the girl a frowning look. “She’s always trying to take them away from me.”
Roberta looked nonplussed. “She’s only a baby, Edwina. You were like that once. You should share with her.”
“Why?” Edwina demanded.
A voice sounded from the passage behind the child. “Because it is the kind thing to do!” Olivia appeared, looking slightly unkempt but still as beautiful as he remembered. “Lily thinks you are wonderful. She looks forward to seeing you whenever we are here.”
Niki wasn’t sure that was true, but it had the desired effect on Edwina, who looked pleased and ashamed in turn. “All right then,” she sighed. “Come on, Lily, let’s find the dolls.”
The child put her hand willingly into her aunt’s and toddled off.
Olivia looked after them with a fond smile before turning back to the room. Her gaze focused on Niki, and something about it made him uncomfortable.
They had not had much time to talk since he had arrived, and not privately, but their interactions had been polite enough. He wondered if that had been all pretense on her part because now she looked a little antagonistic.
“Niki,” she said, dropping any suggestion of protocol. “You are enjoying your stay? When do you leave?”
“Olivia,” Roberta hissed.
Olivia’s eyes went round. “What? It was a simple enough question.”
“Tomorrow, unfortunately,” he said evenly. “And in answer to your question, I have enjoyed my stay very much.”
Olivia nodded and seemed to read the sincerity in his expression. She smiled. “I’m glad. I’m sure you are enjoying it a great deal better than your first visit.”
Niki opened his mouth. They were all turned to him, watching, fascinated. Should he lie? He read the anxiety in Roberta’s eyes. No, he would not lie. He was done with it.
“I am,” he said bluntly. “In some ways, my first visit to Grantham was a disaster. I’m sure you would agree.”
Olivia began to laugh but caught herself. “Yes, I would agree, although I learned a great deal about myself. I think we are both happier with the way things turned out, are we not?”
His smile was completely natural. “We are.”
A wail from the stairs had her turning away to deal with her children, and Niki let his shoulders loosen.
“She is a little intimidating,” Roberta whispered, “but she means well. Did I tell you about her horse race with Ivo along Rotten Row?”
He wondered if he looked as shocked as he felt.
“Remember,” she said gently, “we Ashtons have no shame. You can say whatever you want, and we will probably forgive you. Relax, Niki, you are among friends.”
The next morning, the elderly dowager duchess bid him farewell. As she dispensed with formalities and reached to enclose him in a fragile embrace, she murmured, “You remind me of your grandfather. We all miss him, don’t we?”
Surprised, Niki met her dark eyes as she released him.
She looked sad, and he wondered just how often over the years she had regretted her decision not to elope with his grandfather.
It would not have worked, he was certain, but that didn’t mean she did not wish she had taken that step into the unknown.
Love had called to her, and she had turned her back on it.