Chapter Nine #3
A surge of heat took him, and David moved his coat toward his lap.
Time and distance, he reminded himself. Once he’d brought Amelia to Christine, he could separate himself from them, and eventually, these feelings would go away.
It had been nearly impossible to concentrate during the last few weeks.
He had awakened, time and again, dreaming of Amelia.
So many times, he’d wanted to go into her room and give in to desires of the flesh.
But their marriage was fragile enough. If he dared to touch her more, it might break down the careful walls he’d erected around his life.
He tried not to be fascinated by the bead of perspiration that slid down Amelia’s neck beneath that gown. Or to imagine the rest of her bare body, slick with heat.
“I hope you’ll make yourself at home when you reach Castledon,” he offered.
“Are you going to put me in the servants’ quarters again? Or must I disobey you?” Her voice taunted him like a bad girl asking him to spank her bare bottom.
Christ, what the hell was the matter with him? He’d never harbored thoughts like that before.
“No, of course not,” he assured her. “You may choose a bedroom and decorate it as you please.” Preferably one far away from his.
She untied her bonnet and set it aside. Then she eyed him. “Do you have a spare handkerchief I could use?”
He handed her the linen square without question, but when he saw her dab at her face and throat—even the sheen of skin above her bodice—his mind conjured up too many inappropriate ideas.
He wanted her in a carnal way, right now. Though he understood that this was the result of too many years of celibacy, he didn’t want to be this close to Amelia. She tempted him beyond reason, and right now, he wanted to unfasten every last button and expose her golden skin.
“It’s beastly hot,” she said. “I’ll be glad when we reach the inn. I’d like to ask for a cool bath to wash away the travel dust.”
Was she doing this on purpose? He gave a nod, as if it meant nothing, but her wish only fueled his body’s urges. He imagined her naked body beneath the bath, the cool water puckering her nipples.
“How much longer?” she asked.
“An hour or two, at the most.”
She sighed and leaned back against the seat, the pose making her breasts strain against the fabric of her gown.
Katherine had never behaved like this in all her life. His first wife had been genteel, proper, and ever the lady. She would have sat with her back ramrod straight, her feet tucked demurely beneath her gown, without a strand of hair out of place.
Amelia looked ready to remove more layers of clothing. And damned if he didn’t want her to.
“I don’t like the way you’ve been avoiding me during the daytime,” she said at last. “I want that to change when we reach Castledon.” Her honesty caught him off guard, and David didn’t know what to say.
Thankfully, she continued. “Whatever there is between us has nothing to do with your first marriage.”
He wanted to believe it was that easy, that he could simply separate the two women into different boxes.
But he didn’t like what happened to him whenever he was around Amelia.
He lost sight of who he was. The dark pleasure of touching her, and her response, was stronger than it had been with Katherine.
The physical release he’d gotten from Amelia was a hunger he couldn’t satisfy.
Her very presence was infiltrating his life, making his first marriage appear hollow. It wasn’t. He’d loved his wife, and she’d loved him. He was convinced that nothing would ever be better than his life with Katherine, but Amelia was slowly destroying that opinion.
He didn’t want to have feelings for her.
He wanted to lock away his responses and hold on to the shadow life he’d lived.
Maybe then he wouldn’t feel the burdening guilt of betrayal.
He knew that Katherine would give her blessings upon this match, no matter that it was with a younger woman.
But he was troubled by the way Amelia made him feel.
“I was busy with my responsibilities in the House of Lords,” he said, dodging the real reason.
Amelia stared at him, and in her green eyes, he saw a woman who knew precisely what he’d been doing. “You’re being dishonest with yourself. You wanted me that night. And I suspect you still do. Why, then, are you holding yourself back from being with me again?”
“I wed you to protect your reputation and your family’s name,” he corrected. “And because I didn’t want your life ruined because of Lisford. Nothing more.”
She continued to study him. “I am grateful to you for it. But I don’t want a marriage where I see my husband once a month, and he confines me to a bedroom far away from his. It feels as if you despise me.”
It wasn’t that, but at the same time, he didn’t want a real marriage with Amelia. “I don’t despise you. But you knew, when you married me, that it wouldn’t be anything more.”
“It’s not as if I expect you to fall in love with me.” But he heard the slight catch in her voice, as if she were holding back her own feelings. She lifted a lock of hair from her neck and stared out the window. “But I wouldn’t mind it if you came to my bed again.”
Another unholy image surged through his brain, of what it was like to thrust inside her, feeling her flesh yield beneath his. He gritted his teeth against the rising arousal. “Later, perhaps.”
“I’ll not be a wallflower in this marriage,” she said quietly. “I won’t let you set me aside like a forgotten coat.” Her face had gone pale, and she ventured softly, “Or is it that you don’t want to be with me in that way? Was it that bad?”
He hesitated, for this was a dangerous conversation.
Touching Amelia had been deeply arousing, haunting him at every moment.
He was the one who should have lasted longer, making it better for her.
“You did nothing wrong.” He beckoned for her to come and sit beside him.
When she did, he stroked a lock of her hair back.
“I’m having trouble with the idea that I’ve remarried. It’s been a long time.”
“You don’t feel that you deserve to be happy again, do you?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he nodded. Her arms came around his waist, and she rested her cheek against his heart.
It seemed wrong that Katherine had died, while he was left to go on living.
Watching her waste away, taking one step closer to death each day, was the worst nightmare he’d ever endured.
He kept wondering if he’d found a different doctor or if he’d found some other way to help her, then perhaps he could have saved her from dying.
“It’s hard,” he said at last.
“Will you try?” She held out her hand to his, and he knew that if he turned her down now, it would sever the fragile friendship between them.
He took her hand in his and was startled when she turned to kiss his cheek.
The soft brush of her lips burned through him, and he stopped her from pulling back.
Instead, he brought his mouth to hers. Her lips were gentle, accepting him, but the invitation was undeniable.
When her hands reached up to his hair, he deepened the kiss, pulling her onto his lap.
He didn’t care that she was nestled against his arousal. Her tongue touched his, and a breathless sigh escaped her when he rocked his hips.
He could claim her right now in the coach, lifting her skirts and sinking into her willing flesh. She was trembling against him, her green eyes dark with her own desire.
“I love it when you touch me,” she murmured. “Don’t stop.”
He rewarded her by reaching beneath her gown to touch her leg, moving his hands upward to her inner thigh. Amelia leaned in closer, kissing him hard, and she pressed herself against his arousal.
He knew he shouldn’t continue, for they would reach the inn all too soon. But he found himself giving in to the physical pleasure of caressing her. She was so responsive, her lips swollen from his kiss.
It was as if his mind and body were separate, as he brought her closer to the edge.
“Do you want this?” he asked huskily, when he slipped his fingers inside her wetness.
“I want you,” she breathed.
He rubbed his thumb against her hooded flesh, watching her face. The need to possess her was overwhelming, but he welcomed the physical frustration. He didn’t care that he would be in pain tonight—there was no harm in giving her pleasure.
He would enjoy that, he realized. Watching her come apart was a reward in itself, and there was no need to indulge his own needs.
“Let go,” he ordered, thrusting his hand against her. “Or I’ll keep tormenting you even more.”
She shuddered against him, biting her lower lip, while her eyes remained closed. She was fighting him, and when she reached for his erection, he caught her wrist.
“No. This isn’t about me.”
He moved his mouth to the neckline of her gown. Though he couldn’t free her breasts, he kissed the bared skin. “If I could, I’d take your nipple in my mouth,” he told her. “I’d suckle you hard until you screamed.”
His words forced her past the brink, and she arched against him, a cry escaping as she surrendered to the release. He held her as she went limp against him. His own heart was pounding, his shaft so hard, it was punishment for what he’d done.
But Amelia smiled as if he’d handed her a priceless jewel.
It was a wonder her knees were still functioning. Amelia held the earl’s hand as he led her inside the small room within the inn. After he’d pleasured her in the coach, once again he’d locked away every emotion. It was as if he hadn’t touched her at all.
She didn’t understand the iron control he seemed to possess. It was as if he were a man of stone, one who isolated himself from the moments they shared.