In the Garden of Deceit (Book 4) (18 page)

Amanda
felt as if she were surrounded by him, absorbed not only by his body,
but his will. She was fascinated by his size, his bridled
strength—his nearness. The heat from his unclothed body, the
hint of cologne that had teased her senses all night—his erect
member strategically touching her through her gown—sent a
shiver of raw desire coursing through her gut.

Bewildered
and shaken, Amanda lowered her head to avoid his gaze, but he slid a
finger beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Manda,”
James coaxed her again, her name like a caress.

She
lifted her eyes and was captured by a scorching stare that left her
breathless. And afraid. It was as though he were eating her thoughts,
changing them, compelling her to meet his hunger.

He
lowered his mouth to hers.

It
was a persuasive kiss, his tongue slipping between her lips, but only
just. His hand at her chin dipped to her breast and, as he cupped the
tender mound, his palm teased the nipple into life. A rush of fire
spread from her knees to her belly, and she moaned softly.

James
shuddered, as if moved by his effort to tempt her. He deepened the
kiss.

All
at once he pulled back then placed his cheek to hers. His breathing
was harsh as he whispered in her ear, “Do not deny me, love.”

Was
she denying him? Hardly. She was a lump of heated wax in his hands.
“I invited you, James. I will not deny you.”

Again
he pulled back, and he swallowed hard. “You will participate?”

***

CHAPTER 12

Even
as he spoke, James knew he had made a mistake. He felt Amanda’s
retreat from him, though she neither moved nor altered her
expression. Strange to be so attuned to another as to feel the
intangible, the whisper of a shifting mood, the delicate brush of a
thought.

When
had that spiritual bond been formed?

He
knew absolutely that she was as regretful as he that he had chosen
now to raise that sensitive issue. Her eyes widened slightly then she
blinked once, twice, slowly, as if thinking. When she focused on him
again the clarity in her eyes that had exposed her earlier
vulnerability was gone, replaced by an aloofness which made him step
back. It also angered him. Unfortunately, that anger would continue
to hover just outside his emotions, goading him.

Amanda
straightened from the wall as though she no longer needed the
support. Squaring her shoulders, she raised her chin. Her nostrils
flared like a tigress, and now he sensed her own temper.

“To
the extent that I am able, I will try,” she said, her voice as
calm as her stormy attitude was not.

She
would try? Was this progress? Not bloody likely. She might as well
have refused him outright. How lovely she was, her gaze now bold and
defiant. He felt his gut wrench with lust and…determination.

“So
be it,” he growled.

James
grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into his arms. His mouth
descended on hers with a force that exposed his frustration and
desire, desire so thick and overwhelming that he felt his control
snap. He knew he was continuing to err, knew it without doubt, but he
feared losing the moment. Of course, lovemaking in the face of rancor
and aggression was doomed from the start, but his good sense was no
longer in charge of his emotions.

Every
surface of his body was aware of hers, soft curves and pliant flesh
beneath his hands. Amanda held herself stiffly, arms at her sides,
but as she had promised she did not fight him. However, he would be
hard pressed to call it participation.

Even
as he ravaged her mouth, a part of James he hardly recognized
understood that he would never be satisfied with less than her desire
also. It was a need so fundamental and overpowering he found himself
on the verge of begging. Had he thought for one moment that it would
work, he would not have hesitated. What a lowering thought for a man
who considered himself prideful.

His
mouth slipped to her throat where he found her heartbeat. He tasted
her pulse, and it throbbed against his lips, racing so it was like a
panicked bird, fluttering helplessly. James was ashamed to admit that
physical sign of her fear incited him.

But
it did.

Perhaps
it wasn’t so much her fear, but the unspoken evidence that she
was affected—aroused? He hoped so. With that wish burning in
the pit of his stomach, James scooped her up into his arms and strode
toward the bed.

Tonight
there would be no turning back, no excuses. No pity. Before it was
over, he would make her acknowledge him, make her admit that she
wanted him as he wanted her. He would find the woman he had married,
the woman who had proclaimed her love for him in a crowded church,
who had been as eager as he until Derrick had destroyed her faith in
him.

James
laid her on the bed and stepped back to finish undressing. As he
slipped off his trousers and drawers, he hadn’t expected to
feel so self-conscious, exposing not only his body, but the state of
his desire—his vulnerability where she was concerned. Maybe it
was because Amanda watched him openly now as though she sensed his
challenge and was meeting him with one of her own.

Naked
and aroused, he stood before her, aware that the next hour would
determine where their relationship went from here. Who would win this
war of wills, he wondered? In a flash of understanding, James
realized either they both won or they both lost. There was no in
between.

Still,
despite the sudden disquiet filling his breast, he had no intention
of allowing her to think he had lost his courage. Somehow he knew
that would doom his effort as nothing else could.

“Your
turn,” he murmured.

Amanda
swallowed, the column of her throat working nervously. “What do
you mean?”

“The
gown, love.”

“I’ll
choose when to disrobe.” Her voice was now haughty.

“Yes?
Then I would deem it a special favor if you would ‘choose’
now. You understand, so as not to interfere with my participation.”

For
a long time she stared at him as if assessing how to respond. Slowly,
her flashing eyes never leaving his face, she came up on her knees.
She grabbed the hem of her gown in both hands and, in one swift
motion, pulled it over her head. Her hair came up with the gown and
settled in a black staticky cloud around her shoulders.

James’s
breath whooshed through his mouth on a gasp.

“Satisfied?”
she hissed.

Satisfied?
Oh, indeed, although satisfied hardly covered it. His wife was as
beautiful as he had imagined she would be—more so. And his
imagination, fertile and relentless, had conjured her supposed charms
often. Maintaining his composure under such pressure took all his
control.

“Um,
yes, it’s a start,” he said.

“Is
this not cooperation, my lord?” Amanda held her arms out, the
gown dangling from her fingers, daring him, taunting him with her
body.

But
it was the formality of her address that angered him anew. James
threw one leg up on the bed as he reached across the space that
separated them. He grabbed the back of her hair pulling her toward
him.

“James,”
he rasped against her mouth.

Her
eyes widened. “What—?

“The
only person in this room with you is a man called James. He has no
title, no worth beyond his desire for his wife. Remember that.”

He
felt her shiver, but he would have sworn it had nothing to do with
cold. James pulled his other leg up on the bed, joining her on his
knees. He dropped his hands, running them over her hips, up her ribs,
the sides of her breasts to her neck then clasped her face gently. He
kissed her, this time with no more thought than to drown himself in
her lips, to absorb the heat between them, skin to skin, chest to
chest, belly to belly.

He
could feel her sex next to his own, and he rubbed himself against
her, exquisite sensation. He groaned, a sudden overwhelming desire to
end the torture and bury himself in her.

James
knew he must slow down, knew he would have to take his time if he
hoped to seduce her. Not her body, she had already given him that. He
wanted her heart, her emotions—her participation. He forced
himself to release her mouth, drawing a shaky breath as he laid his
forehead to hers.

“Put
your arms around my neck,” he said.

Amanda
hesitated briefly then complied, but it was awkwardly done, as though
she were uncomfortable with the request. The motion raised her
breasts, her nipples hardened tips against his chest. This time with
herculean effort he stemmed the groan that rose in his throat.

He
sensed her reluctance, her effort to remain aloof, and more than her
virginity that was the barrier he must scale. Participation. To take
this journey of passion alone was unthinkable…unbearable. He
wanted desperately to slake himself within her, but it was so much
more than that. Shocked, he could feel his heart aching with need and
the fear that she would reject him.

Absolute
resolve guided him now. She would not deny him.

He
refused to accept that her heart was not as full as his. That she did
not love him.

James
pulled her down beside him covering her with his body. He found her
mouth again, and he felt a moment of sheer joy when she melted
beneath him without a fight. Her lips parted invitingly, and now
there was no holding back the ragged sound that escaped him.

He
slipped one hand under her to her lower back, bracing himself on that
elbow as he hovered over her. The other hand he placed on her belly.
Though she did not stop him, she did not meet his gaze, either. James
could not resist staring down the length of her, satiny skin and long
willowy limbs, she took his breath away.

Amanda
lay unmoving beneath his inspection, continuing to avert her gaze,
but when he looked at her again her face had taken on a rosy tinge.

“Manda,”
he murmured huskily next to her ear.

“Humm…?”
Still she did not look at him.

James
had had enough of her evasion. The hand on her belly dipped between
her legs, cupping her firmly. That gained her attention. Amanda’s
eyes widened and shifted to his. He would have felt smug if the
action had not caused a surge of lust that seem to burn right through
his gut. He squeezed his own eyes shut briefly, absorbing the feel of
her.

He
focused on her again.

They
neither moved nor spoke as each watched the other, until he saw the
stormy denial begin to gather in her expression. At once she started
to struggle but he held her fast.

Amanda
stilled. “W-what are you doing?” she asked, the words
breathless.

“Why,
I’m enjoying myself, of course.” He moved his fingers,
probing her gently to emphasize his words.

She
squirmed which increased his enjoyment immensely.

“What
do you mean?” she asked.

“You
haven’t forgotten, have you?” He lowered his voice
suggestively, “The kissing and the…touching I spoke of
once upon a time. To enhance the mood. You understand.”

James
moved his fingers again, his gaze boring into hers. He must have
found the nerve he was seeking, for she shuddered and moaned softly.
Her breathing accelerated.

“Stop!”
she said.

“Interfering
with my participation, Amanda? We have a bargain, remember?”

“That’s
not what you’re doing—”

“It’s
not?”

“You
are forcing me to…to…”

“Yes?”

“Please
don’t,” she whispered brokenly.

At
that point, James almost gave in and released her. Amanda was upset,
and that truly upset him. She was, however, also aroused. He knew it
for certain—the dampness on his hand had betrayed her—though
he also realized she didn’t want to be.

She
was right. He was trying to awaken her desire, wringing from her
against her will, a response that had the added bonus of exciting
him. He was selfish and he knew it. But it was more than that. In his
very soul of souls, he believed they should finish this thing, and he
wanted—needed—her to be there with him. Thus, to accede
to her wishes would put them right back where they had
started—another night trying to break down an emotional wall
that had become more impenetrable with time. He found that
possibility unacceptable.

He
leaned down and kissed her ever so gently, his tongue caressing her
lips. “I can’t,” he spoke against her mouth, “it’s
too late.”

He
felt her wilt beneath him, the fight leaving her.

James
began the magic between her legs again, fondling the sensitive flesh,
delving in and out, mimicking what was to come. She was stiff and
unyielding at first, but gradually her thighs eased open, allowing
him access.

The
flush that had touched her cheeks now covered her neck and breasts.
Her eyes were closed against the lust that swirled around them, but
she was a part of it, yes indeed. How beautiful she was! Perspiration
beaded on his forehead with the effort to control himself.

Amanda’s
hands came up, and he thought at first it was to push him away. But
she grabbed hold of his shoulders, her nails digging into his back.
No longer did she resist him, instead pressing against his hand. He
played her sweetly, her writhing body beneath his touch an
aphrodisiac on the senses. His own desire was beginning to rise up
and overtake him.

He
hated to interrupt her pleasure—oh, she was so close!—however,
now was the best time to breach her virginity. At the height of her
desire her body would accept him more easily—or so he hoped.
Deflowering innocents had never been a pastime of his. But truly, in
his ignorance he did not want to hurt her.

James
threw his leg over her hips, bringing himself fully on top of her. He
rubbed his erection against her sex, praying for a gentle rupture.
She opened her eyes to look at him. Pausing, James stared down into
her lovely face.