Scandalous Summer Nights (19 page)

She resisted the temptation to launch herself at him but did sink into his arms, sighing as her body pressed against the hard wall of his chest and slid down his taut abdomen. He prolonged the embrace, lowering her just an inch at a time, and his heart beat nearly as fast as hers. When at last her slippers touched the sand, she looked up at him—or, more precisely, his mouth—and parted her lips in invitation.

He bent his head and kissed her. A kiss that was soft,
sweet… and frustrating in the extreme. She leaned into him, letting her hips brush against the front of his trousers, and was gratified to know that he wasn’t unaffected by her. When she bumped lightly into him, he groaned, cupped her cheek, and broke off the kiss.

“This is not the sort of thing we normally do on expeditions,” he said.

“I should hope not.” And yet she hoped for more.

James hopped onto the embankment to retrieve their bags and her parasol, and then, much to Olivia’s delight, he removed his jacket. When he returned, he went straight to work, digging from left to right, slowly exposing more of the same smooth, evenly spaced stones that he’d unearthed the day before. He worked quickly but so carefully that if a teacup had been buried between two of the stones, she had no doubt he’d remove it quite intact.

Mesmerized by his brisk, efficient movements—not to mention his firm, beautifully sculpted backside—Olivia fantasized about their future. He was going away for a couple of years, but he’d come back to her. And then they’d start their life together. Perhaps he didn’t love her now, but there was a chance that someday he would—even if he hadn’t chosen to marry her of his own free will.

And while she could entertain herself all day thus, admiring the view of his thin shirt clinging to his muscled shoulders and back, she thought she might at least create the
illusion
that she was doing something useful. So, she withdrew a journal and a pencil, opened to a clean page, and wrote the date at the top. Then she began to sketch the stones that James unearthed. Thankfully, they were the smooth and uniformly shaped kind of stones that didn’t require any sort of artistic skill to sketch.
She included labels to indicate the approximate distance between each of the rocks and made notes about the quality of the soil of the embankment and the texture of the sand below it.

She was so absorbed in her drawing that she was startled by the shadow that suddenly crossed her page. James stood over her, a thoughtful expression on his face. “What do you have there?”

Resisting the urge to snap the journal closed, she said, “It’s my contribution to the expedition—a drawing. A crude one to be sure, but a drawing.” And she handed the book to him, bravely offering up her meager efforts for his review.

He gazed at the pages crowded with her notes for several seconds, then looked at her, his expression unreadable. “Where did you learn to do this?”

“Where did I learn to draw an oval?” she asked. It was a far cry from Gainsborough.

“To sketch like this. It’s remarkably accurate. You’ve represented the relative size and position of the stones, all seventeen of them.”

“Yes, well, thank heaven that I wasn’t required to count above twenty,” she teased. “My accuracy tends to decline significantly after that number.”

“I’m being serious, Olivia. This kind of drawing is just what I needed. You’ve even included notes about the soil and the sand.” He shook his head in amazement, like she was some sort of stone-drawing prodigy. She had to admit it felt nice to be appreciated, to do something that James respected.

“I just jotted down a few bits of information I thought you’d want to remember, like the time of day and where
the sun was in the sky, and the approximate distance from the site to the tree line.” She
had
been rather proud of thinking to include that little detail. Perhaps she was better at sketching than she gave herself credit for. James’s stare alternated between the journal page and her, like he couldn’t decide which he was more enthralled with.

“It’s perfect. May I borrow it? I’d love to show it to Humphrey. Your drawing would allow him to explore the far corners of his land from the comfort of his cat-hair-covered armchair. I’m certain he’ll have some theories as to the use of the stones.”

Inordinately pleased that he liked her rudimentary scribbles enough to share them with his uncle, she magnanimously said, “The journal is yours.”

“Thank you, Olivia.”

A thought occurred to her then, and bubbled out before she could stop it. “Is it possible I could join you on the expedition? That is, I realize I have little to offer in the way of—”

“No.” James spoke firmly, even if his eyes showed regret. “Egypt is dangerous, and there will be no women in the group.”

“Some woman has to be the first—it may as well be me.”

“You are accustomed to soft mattresses and silk sheets. I can’t imagine you among the scorpions and rabid camels.”

He had a point there, but she would not be deterred. “I would give up every luxury to travel with you, to be at your side. And I know you’d protect me.”

James ran a hand through his hair, let out a breath, and gazed into her eyes intently. “From this moment
forward, I will
always
protect you. With my own life, if need be.”

A delicious shiver ran through her.

“But the expedition is no place for you. Several members of the last group were lost to disease and drought—”

“James! I had no idea the trip was so fraught with peril. I shall worry about you desperately.” Her heart was already pounding with dread.

He reached for her hand and smoothed the back of it with his thumb. “I am strong, and I’ve learned from the experiences of the teams who’ve gone before me. I’ll be prepared. But I wouldn’t subject you to such risks.”

“I… I understand.” But it still stung. “I’m afraid you shall not be able to prevent me from worrying about you.”

“I shall be fine,” he said so confidently, she almost believed him.

“You do seem rather invincible.”

He arched a brow. “I am. And while Egypt is out of the question for you, there is plenty of exploring and digging to be done around here—if you’d like to pass the time with me.”

“Of course I would.” She would savor every day that remained with him. “And I’ll be happy to add drawings of any other sites we explore around here.”

God help her if he discovered an artifact with a remotely complicated shape. Anything more complex than a blob, and she’d be done for.

“That would be wonderful,” James said, beaming at her like he meant it. He knelt beside her and placed the journal on the quilt.

Then he took off his shirt.

Surely, the heat had addled her head. This bare-chested
James was just a fantasy—one she’d imagined hundreds of times over the last decade.

But this was more vivid—more breathtakingly real—than any fantasy she’d had. Which was truly saying something.

The skin on his shoulders and chest was a little lighter than on his neck, and a fine sheen of perspiration made him glisten like Apollo. His nipples were flat and darker than her own, like the skin of a ripened peach. His broad shoulders tapered to a rippled abdomen and slim hips.

Olivia dug through her bag for her fan and waved it. Vigorously. When she finally trusted herself to speak, she said, “Ah, I think you are confused. This is not your dressing room, and I am not your valet.”

He chuckled. “Thank the Lord for that.” He mopped the front of his chest with his wadded shirt, then tossed it onto the bank above them.

She fanned herself harder. “What, precisely, are you doing?”

In one easy motion, he pulled off a boot and propped it near the riverbank. “Going for a swim.” He took off the other boot and grinned. “You should join me.”

“A… a swim?” she sputtered.

“More like a wade, I suppose.”

“We’re hardly twelve anymore,” she said. As if either of them needed reminding. The proof stood before her. He was six feet of male. Chiseled, tanned male.

“You’d rather roast on the shore than take a refreshing dip?”

No. No, she wouldn’t. But in order to protect her vulnerable heart, she was trying to keep some barriers between her and James. Barriers like clothes.

As though he’d read her thoughts, he said, “You can keep all or some of your clothes on if you’d like. Or not.”

She considered stripping naked just to see if he would react as casually as he’d have her believe. But even
she
wasn’t that daring.

“I thought this was an official expedition. Is swimming allowed?”

“Absolutely. And encouraged.”

She was dreadfully hot. Her curls were wilted, and her cotton dress clung to her like a second skin. From a few feet away, the cool, clear water beckoned. “I’m quite comfortable here,” she lied.

He shrugged, as if he didn’t know the subtle movement would flex every muscle in his shoulders and chest, thereby causing her mouth to water. Damn him. “Suit yourself. You can stay there and admire the view.”

“I presume you’re referring to the rolling hills and the cloudless sky.” She waved the fan with renewed vigor as he waded several yards into the river, then leaped in, dunking his head beneath the water. He emerged splashing, spraying cool droplets in sparkling arcs around him. His hair slicked away from his face, he looked even more virile and perhaps a little dangerous. Dear Lord, the heat was affecting her ability to think clearly.

“You wouldn’t believe how good this feels,” he called out, leaning back, floating, and closing his eyes like he was in ecstasy. His wet shoulders glistened in the sun and his impressive biceps were just visible above the waterline.

How she’d love to be in the river with him, his slick body next to hers, the water gently lapping at their chests.

She shifted her backside, numb from sitting for so long, and pretended the gritty sand in her shoe didn’t bother her
in the least. Sweat trickled between her breasts. “What does the bottom feel like?”

He opened his eyes and shot her a puzzled look. “The bottom?”

“Of the river.” She smiled innocently, as if she could possibly be referring to anything else.

He seemed to think about that for a moment. “Just hard-packed sand and a few smooth stones.”

“Nothing slimy?”

“Not unless you count the eels.”

She shuddered. “That’s not funny.”

“If you join me, I promise to protect you from anything slimy. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

Oh, it was alive and well. And it had gotten her into enough trouble already. “If you must know, I’ve been trying to suppress it.”

“And have you been successful?”

“Quite.” Granted, it had only been a few days. And she felt James chipping away at her willpower like so much soil beneath his pick.

“We’re alone here, Olivia. In a few short weeks, we’re going to be married. Don’t be so obstinate.”

She huffed. “I’m
not
being obstinate.”

He floated closer, then took a few steps toward the shore till the water was knee level. His trousers molded to him, revealing every delicious inch of his hips, thighs, and, er, male parts. God help her.

“Then join me. I can’t have you fainting from the heat.”

She was about to swoon, that much was true—but not from the heat. As he continued striding toward her, she had the highly improper thought that she’d like to lick the rivulets of water running down his chest.

At last he stood over her, half naked and wholly captivating. He held out his hand to her, and a few blissfully cold drops plopped onto her arm.

She tossed aside her fan, disgusted with its ineffectiveness, and discarded her bonnet.

A girl could only resist so much wickedness, blast it all.

She was going for a swim.

J
ames had seen the moment Olivia capitulated. When a few water droplets landed on her skin, something in her beautiful brown eyes gave in to the pure pleasure of it.

Now that he’d convinced her to go for a dip with him in the river, he found himself intrigued by the possibilities. She removed her slippers and set them next to her fan and bonnet. He sent up a heartfelt prayer that the pile of discarded articles of clothing would grow.

And it seemed someone in heaven was listening.

Olivia hiked her gown up to her knees, reached beneath the skirt, and rolled off her silk stockings. Into the pile they went. James’s mouth went dry.

She reached up for the hand he’d extended and stood—on one foot—facing him. “Given the circumstances,”
she said, “the most prudent thing for me to do is remove my gown. If I wore it into the river, it would take hours to dry.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Taking off the gown is the prudent course of action.” He grinned.

Rolling her eyes, she hopped and turned at the same time, presenting her back to him.

Worried she’d lose her balance, he grasped her elbows. “Can I do something to help?” Though he was honestly trying to act the part of a gentleman, he didn’t blame Olivia for shooting him a skeptical glance over her shoulder.

“No, thank you.”

There was nothing for him to do but watch as she unbuttoned her gown, slipped the sleeves off her delectable shoulders, and shimmied out of the dress. She still wore her chemise and her stays over it, but she was already working on the laces at the front. A few moments later she tossed her stays onto the discard pile and faced him once more, her lush form leaving him drunk with desire.

He tugged at the frilly strap of her chemise and arched a brow. “Are you sure you don’t want to remove this, too?”

She arched a brow right back at him. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to remove your trousers?”

“Actually, I would.” He reached for his waistband, but Olivia grabbed his wrists.

“Never mind. Help me into the river before I lose my resolve.”

He scooped her into his arms, surprised at how much lighter she felt without all the usual clothes and trappings. Her skin felt hot against his wet chest, and a few tendrils of hair dangled from her neck, tickling his shoulder.
The closer they got to the water, the tighter she clung to him—like she wanted to avoid getting wet as long as possible. But after he’d taken a couple steps into the river, her feet—and luscious bottom—dipped below the water’s surface, and she jumped.

She sucked in her breath and dug her fingers into his shoulders. “It’s chilly.”

“Give it a minute and try to relax.” He loosened his hold on her, letting the water bear some of her weight, and sunk lower into the river until soon they were both submerged up to their chests.

Olivia sighed and let her head fall back, exposing inches and inches of creamy neck that practically begged to be kissed. “This… feels divine.”

It did. He could think of several things that would feel even
more
divine, but for now, the cool water and the gentle pressure of her body against his were enough. She kept one arm coiled around his neck and swirled the other in the water, letting the weak current curl around her.

“It’s been years since I’ve done anything like this. I’d forgotten what I was missing.” She lay back, stretching so that she was almost horizontal in the water. Her chemise floated around her hips, giving him an excellent view of lithe, supple legs. Her full breasts thrust toward the sky, their taut peaks visible through the transparent cotton of her chemise. Her chestnut curls floated in the water around her head, giving her the look of a very naughty water nymph.

Dear Jesus. James swallowed hard. If he didn’t put some space between them, their swim would turn into something else entirely. He took a step back, and though Olivia’s eyes were closed, she immediately sensed he’d
moved, lifted her head, and clasped her arms around his neck. As if that wasn’t torture enough, she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere. You seemed so relaxed. I thought you might like me to get out of your way.”

“But I don’t want to touch the bottom of the river, remember? There’s the matter of my injured foot, and I’m not exactly an expert swimmer, and—”

“You’re afraid you might encounter something slimy.”

“Yes.” She smiled guiltily and flexed her thighs more tightly, pressing against the front of his trousers and nearly driving him mad.

One of the straps of her chemise fell off her shoulder, and his gaze dropped to her smooth, almost pearlescent skin. Despite the cold water, his cock was hard and undeniably ready for action. “Olivia, I…” He swallowed.

He wanted to tell her that he cared for her. And
not
just because she had her legs wrapped around him. He loved that she wanted to meet his brother and that earlier that morning she’d surreptitiously pressed a few wildflowers into her journal. He loved that she’d do anything for her family and that she was stubborn enough to hop through a cow field on one foot in the rain.

He just loved… being with her.

And he wanted to make her his. Now.

He looked into her brown eyes, dark with desire, and felt his heart squeeze in his chest. “There’s something I need to say.”

“Yes?” She wriggled closer, till their breath mingled in the air between them, and stared at his mouth. Like she wanted him to kiss her. With a cool fingertip, she traced little circles on his nape.

“Well, the thing is…”

She pressed warm lips to the side of his neck and sucked lightly, then greedily ran her hands down his back and up his sides till he thought his knees would buckle. He knew he should stop her and tell her what he felt for her. But other parts of his body were in charge at the moment. There was no reining them in.

So he slid his hands beneath her bottom and guided her closer, letting her feel his arousal and the perfect fit of their bodies.

With a soft moan, she rubbed against his cock.

All the passion they’d been denying suddenly burst free, their self-control shattering like a dam that had been patched one too many times. She speared her fingers through his damp hair and thrust her tongue between his teeth. He slipped a hand inside her chemise, caressed her breast, and continued to rock against her, driving them both into a breathless, dizzy, desperate frenzy.

Being with her felt so right. Holding her tightly, he walked to the shore and gently lowered her to the quilt. Her chemise was plastered to her legs and torso, and the slight summer breeze made her shiver. Before he could suggest removing the soaked garment, she did it, pulling it over her head in one smooth motion. She tossed it onto the discard pile and leaned back on her elbows with a knowing, wicked smile.

Dear God, he was in trouble.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He didn’t take his eyes off her as he fumbled with the front of his trousers. Her damp hair dark against her shoulder, the flush on her cheeks, the perfect globes of her breasts, and her long, smooth legs made his heart beat out
of control. If he lived to be ninety, he’d forever remember the way she looked at him, full of anticipation, trust, and love.

At last he shed his trousers and lay next to her on the quilt. Skin to skin, they explored each other, reveling in each small sigh and moan. She sat astride him and traced the contours of his chest, pausing to lick his nipples like a cat lapping up milk. When she began to trail kisses down his abdomen, he stopped her and rolled her onto her back.

“My turn.” He touched between her legs and parted her slick folds with his fingers, watching her intently to see what pleased her. When she closed her eyes and arched her back, he lowered his head and tasted her, teasing her with his tongue until she came apart and cried out in ecstasy.

While they each caught their breath, they lay side by side on the shore. Just beyond their feet, the water trickled past, lapping softly at the rocks. The sun winked overhead, warming their bodies. It should have been a relaxing, tranquil scene, but James was so aroused that nature’s beauty was quite wasted on him.

“It feels so wicked and wanton to be lying naked out of doors,” Olivia said. “I confess I like it.” She leaned over him and plundered his mouth, letting her bare breasts brush against his chest. As she hungrily kissed him, she reached down and stroked his cock, moaning softly into his mouth as though touching him pleased her as much as it did him.

Which he very much doubted. There was nothing tentative or shy about the way she touched him. Or about the way she did
anything
.

Olivia had always been the kind of woman who knew what she wanted, and James was very, very lucky that for some unknown reason, she wanted him.

The problem was that if she continued kissing and touching him with such delightful abandon, their lovemaking would be over before it had begun in earnest.

So, he took both of her wrists and with one hand pinned them on the ground above her head. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing evenly for five seconds, hoping to regain some semblance of control.

When he opened his eyes, Olivia shot him a wicked smile. “I haven’t hurt you, have I?”

“No, beautiful. You’ve enchanted me.”

“Well, that was shockingly easy.”

“I mean it, Olivia.”

“I know. I feel the same way. I want to be with you. Right now.”

James’s blood thrummed in his veins and his pulse pounded in his ears. He positioned himself between her legs and kissed the sweet column of her neck as he slowly eased himself into her. She inhaled deeply as her body stretched to accommodate him.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, hating the thought of hurting her.

“Don’t be.” She cradled his face in her hands. “This is what I’ve wanted, what I’ve dreamed of for so long.”

He didn’t check the raw, powerful, hot desire he felt. Olivia wouldn’t let him, anyway. Seductive, sensual, and sweet—she was his.

He rocked against her, slowly at first, letting her get used to him. But when she thrust her hips and wrapped her legs around him, he let instinct take over. He pumped harder, losing himself in her tight heat, in the sweet smell of her neck, and in the salty taste of her skin.

God, she felt good.

He wished he could have made the moment last all day. Hell, he would have been happy if he’d managed to last more than a few minutes. But he couldn’t. He came fast and hard, saying her name over and over.

She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder as he caught his breath. In all his life, he’d never been so content. So happy. Though he would have liked to remain just so all day, he realized it might not be the most comfortable position for Olivia. And he could already feel the sun burning his ass.

So he carefully withdrew and propped himself on an elbow beside her.

She looked gorgeous. Her hair was a mass of damp, wild curls and her lips were swollen from their kisses. But there, on her cheek, was the unmistakable, shiny track of a freshly shed tear.

Alarm shot through him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing—that is, I don’t know. I was just overcome by all sorts of feelings.” She swiped at the tear, and James instinctively reached for his handkerchief before recalling that he was, in fact, naked.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“What are you apologizing for?” He got the impression that he’d somehow made things worse.

“For upsetting you. Here, let me get something to cover you.” The quilt wasn’t large enough to wrap around her, so he picked up her dress from the heap of clothes and draped it over her.

Sniffling, she sat up and clutched the gown to her breasts. “Thank you.”

And then, because she was squinting from the sun’s glare, he retrieved her parasol, opened it, and held it out to her.

She looked up at him, blinked, then burst into laughter.

“What?” he asked, glancing from side to side.

“It’s very kind of you”—she hiccupped midlaugh—“but it’s just that I’ve never”—
snort—

“Never
what
?”

She wiped the tears from her eyes. “Seen a naked man hold a lace-edged parasol.”

“Right. Here you go.” He handed her the parasol, thinking it was fortunate that he wasn’t insecure about his body—and how he adored the sound of her laughter.

He grabbed his trousers and wrung them out over the river before putting the clammy, stiff things back on. It was time for Olivia and him to have a serious conversation about their future—a feat that would probably best be accomplished while he wore at least
some
clothes.

They’d made love, and that changed everything. There could be a babe. And if there was, he shouldn’t be in Egypt when the child was born. Like ancient ruins in a sandstorm, his life’s dream was crumbling.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Maybe in a bit.” She tilted her head. “I realize that I’m the one who’s a watering pot, but it seems like you have something on your mind.”

“I would like to talk. You see, I’ve made a decision about the expedition.”

“Oh?”

“I’m not going.”

Her brows knitted. “Of course you are.”

Why would she contradict him? “No, I’m not. I’m staying here in England, with you.”

“That’s ridiculous, James. This expedition is your dream. You’d be a fool to give up the chance to go.”

He agreed with her on some level. How he wished he didn’t have to choose. “You deserve a husband who’ll stay by your side.”

“Well, naturally, you’d feel obliged to tell me that after we… after we did what we did. You’re being a gentleman.”

“No, damn it. I’m not.”

“You must admit that your timing is suspect.”

“Why does the timing matter? I’ve realized my place is with you.”

“Was that before or after I’d removed my gown?”