Kay Springsteen (45 page)
Authors: Something Like a Lady
****
The words lingered, filling the breathless space between them, threatening to take on a life of their own.
Undone?
She
was coming undone with the tiny circles he was
drawing with his finger on her neck, with his nearness, his warmth. With her need to be his.
“
Please, darling…
”
He lifted his mouth from her neck and cradled her against his chest, pressing tender kisses to the top of her head.
“
I need to know this is what you want. That you won
’
t regret—
”
Annabella turned
slightly,
allowing
the moonbeam shining through the window
to spill
over Jon
’
s face. His eyes seemed to glow, twin pools of molten obsidian. But underneath the edge of arousal, she saw honest caring, even — dared she hope? — love.
“
I
’
ve never been more certain of anything… of any
one
,
”
she whispered, tracing the dimple in his chin with her thumb. Pushing up onto her toes, she leaned
in
again and laid her lips against his.
The scent of fresh air with a hint of Madeira clung to his skin and rose to tease her nostrils. Annabella pulled in a deep breath, savoring the fragrances of their day together. With a feral moan, Jon wrapped her in his strong embrace and deepened the kiss. When he touched his tongue to her lips she opened to him.
Sensations she
’
d never experienced pummeled her as his hands roamed freely over her body, tugging at the ties on her nightdress until the garment loosened. He stopped his kisses long enough to lift her and carry her to the narrow bed on which he
’
d been sleeping for the past months.
When he laid her down, he followed, fitting against her with such perfection, she became the lock, and he the key.
He murmured things, beautiful words, naughty words… words filled with passion and longing as he showed her with every touch,
every
kiss, each sigh-filled moment what it meant to be loved by Jonathan Durham.
As the fire in the hearth burned low, the fires of Annabella
’
s love for her husband rose. Whatever her future might hold
,
from that instant on, she would always have those first moments of tenderness intertwined with passion. Breathless, her heart pounding so hard surely it would leave her chest, Annabella lay locked in Jon
’
s arms listening to his ragged breathing deepen and slow.
For once, he
’
s falling asleep on me instead of the other way around.
She tamped down a giggle as she groped for the bed covers and drew them up. Jon stirred and murmured but then sighed, and his sonorous breathing resumed as he sank back into slumber, one arm thrown
possessively across her middle.
I didn
’
t know it was like this… I had no idea…
Sudden tears stung her eyes, and she let them fall, recognizing they weren
’
t tears of sadness but of deep emotion. She nuzzled into Jon
’
s neck and closed her eyes, feeling trul
y safe for the first time in her life.
This is home…
****
Annabella rolled over and stretched. Predawn light crept over the intricately carved ceiling and delved into the shadows. Jon
’
s arms tightened around her when she moved, and he began to press kisses to her jaw, sought and found her mouth with a growing display of urgency.
Happiness exploded in her soul and she kissed him back, fast and hard.
“
Good morning, Lord Seabrook.
”
She lightly dragged her fingernails along the skin from his shoulder to his chest, raising fine bumps in their wake. Fascinating… how her every touch seemed to elicit a response in her husband.
“
Mmm, good morning, Lady Seabrook.
”
Jon grazed her ribs with one hand as he propped himself on his other and gazed into her eyes.
“
Did you sleep well?
”
Giggles rose.
“
When my husband allowed sleep, yes, I slept very well.
”
She wound her arms around his neck and clung.
“
And in between sleeping?
”
he asked with a chuckle.
The mild heat of embarrassment invaded her face
,
but she didn
’
t look away.
“
Seabrook, really, are you asking me to rate your prowess as a lover?
”
“
Not at all,
”
he answered, dropping a kiss to the tip of her nose.
“
It
’
s just that you moaned and cried out so loud and so often I felt the need to make certain my lady has not taken ill.
”
The heat blossomed into a raging inferno.
“
I most certainly did no such thing.
”
His lips twitched into a smile and he began
raining
insistent kisses over her face and neck.
“
No? Well
,
perhaps this time you should pay closer attention…
”
The brilliant light of midmorning splashed into the room the next time Annabella awakened.
And she was alone in the narrow bed.
Hushed voices and faint rustlings of fabric
drifted
through the partially open door to the parlor. Annabella moved to draw the coverlet up but found it had already been carefully tucked around her shoulders like a cocoon.
The voices continued their rise and fall and Annabella strained to hear. They were both male as far as she could tell. Was that Jon
’
s honeyed bass?
“
I
’
ll get straight on it, my lord.
”
That was Jon
’
s valet… Carson. Oh, dear heavens! She was lying in Jon
’
s bed. Marie would do
ubtless be looking for her soon —
if she hadn
’
t been already
—
so she could dress for the archery range with Gran. She struggled to sit without dropping the protective covers.
With the
thud
of the
outer
door closing, silence fell in the parlor.
Annabella held her breath and listened
. Had
they all
left or merely gone quiet? Should she rise and race to her own bedchamber? Where had her nightdress fallen?
The parlor door pushed open and Jon
’
s face swam into her vision.
“
You
’
re awake,
”
he said, smiling.
“
As are you,
”
she responded in a weak voice, tugging the cover closer. In the harsh midmorning light, it seemed positively wanton to be lying abed in her particular state of undress.
Jon gazed at her as he entered the room, seeming to be struggling against a smile. Easy for him, since he had the benefit of being clothed in his burgundy dressing gown. The smile won when he reached midway from the door to the bed, and she saw that he was holding out her blue silk dressing
robe
.
The one that would cover everything and hide nothing at all. His normal grin slipped into place as he reached the bed, bent, and plucked her muslin nightdress from the floor.
“
Looking for this, Lady Seabrook?
”
Modesty warred with her newfound self-confidence. Surely he wouldn
’
t expect her to dress in front of him. For all her aplomb when teasing her husband about Lady Godiva, the thought of actually following through on any of it intimidated her.
He moved his hand and she jerked. Was he going to yank the cover away from her? She stared, holding her breath. But he only laid her nightdress and dressing gown across the bed, turned, and walked away. At the door through which he
’
d just entered, he paused
without looking back
.
“
Chocolate and pastries out
here
. I thought
a private
breakfast up
stairs
was in order.
”
Then he
glanced over his shoulder and
winked.
“
I
’
ve also given instructions that we not be disturbed until further notice.
”
Jon sat forward in the desk chair and studied the papers Mr. Webber
’
s assistant had delivered only that morning. All he had to do was affix his signature and provide his solicitor with proof of his marriage.
Right. Annabella
’
s marriage lines. He had yet to have that particular conversation with her.
He took up the quill and poised it over the line, but still he hesitated.
Why was he suddenly finding it so blasted difficult to sign his ruddy name?
He tossed the pen on top of the papers, stood
,
and prowled the floor of the study. Did a wild animal feel similarly when thrust into a cage? He wasn
’
t trapped, so why should he feel as though
t
he
room had suddenly sprung bars
? He stalked to the window and peered out.
Gran and Annabella had gone off to practice archery an hour earlier. Apparently, his grandmother felt the need to prepare his wife for her next tournament — even though it wouldn
’
t happen until the hottest part of the summer passed.
Had it been up to him, they
’
d have spent an entire decadent day discovering all the little secrets of the newly married. He should take her on a proper honeymoon — away from archery ranges and the prying eyes of family members.
And wills with outrageous demands.
Afternoon sun flashed on a cluster of white lilies growing in the midst of a patch of purple larkspur. The snowy plant seemed to beckon — the extraordinary standing out among the ordinary. That was Annabella.
Their night of passion had exceeded his every expectation save one
. But then,
he
’
d always known he
’
d never get enough of her. Her responsiveness and her daring abandon would have been shocking had he not already been acutely aware of her fiery spirit. A smile lifted his mouth and thoughts of his wife gladdened his heart. Her shyness in the light of day had been unexpected and had tickled him to his soul.
He turned from the window as the memory faded. He knew what the problem was. For all his bravado when defending his actions to Gran, he knew Annabella should have been told
about the will
. As far as he was concerned, the point was moot. If no clause, no inheritance existed… he
’
d still want Annabella. He loved her. It was that simple.
But now, thanks to his grandfather
’
s belief that he
’
d never marry without some financial enticement, he was in a position to collect on his estate by virtue of his marriage to a suitable wife. That he
’
d married a woman he
’
d fallen deeply in love with didn
’
t matter a whit to
any of it.
It shouldn
’
t have been a problem.
But it was. Because he loved Annabella,
collecting his inheritance
suddenly felt a bit like using her as a means to an end. He could, of course, decline to claim
it
, but that would be insane. Not only were the funds rightfully his, they would set him and Annabella up for a life of comfort.
Of course he could
provide
for her
without it, but they would be far more secure if he simply did the prudent thing and signed those ridiculous papers. Surely Annabella deserved all the finest in life, no matter how it came to them.
Of course, it all would have been easier had he just shared the information with her at the outset. But he hadn
’
t. The opportunity simply had never presented itself.
