Suddenly You (15 page)

Scowling, he jerked the edges of her dress together and fastened it deftly. “I should have kept my head…should have made us both wait. That was no way to take a virgin. I intended to be gentle with you, I was going to—”

“It was exactly what I wanted.” She regarded him with a slight smile, her face still flushed, her gray eyes brilliant. “And I wasn't your usual sort of virgin, so I fail to see why we should have done it the conventional way.”

Still frowning, Jack took hold of her waist and lifted her, and she gasped as he withdrew from her body. Understanding her intimate needs, Jack somehow managed to find the handkerchief in his coat pocket, and he gave it to Amanda silently. Clearly embarrassed, she used it to blot the abundant wetness between her thighs. “I hurt you,” Jack said in gruff remorse, and she shook her head immediately.

“The discomfort wasn't as great as I had been led to expect,” she said. “One hears tales of agonizing wedding nights, but it wasn't nearly as terrible as I thought it might be.”

“Amanda,” he muttered, amused despite himself by her chatter, and he hugged her tightly. He kissed her hair and the side of her face and the corner of her mouth.

The carriage came to an abrupt stop. They were at Amanda's house. Muttering beneath his breath, Jack tugged and jerked at his clothes, settling them into place, while Amanda tried to restore her coiffure. She refastened a few hairpins, then found her burgundy shawl and draped it over her shoulders. “How do I look?” she asked.

Jack shook his head ruefully as he glanced at her. No one could mistake the remaining flush on her cheeks, or the soft sparkle of her eyes, or her lusciously swollen mouth, for anything other than the results of physical passion. “Like you've been ravished,” he said flatly.

She astonished him by smiling. “Hurry, please. I want to go inside my house and consult a looking glass. I've always wanted to know what a ravished woman looks like.”

“And then what?”

Her gray eyes regarded him steadily. “And then I want to remove all your clothes. I've never seen a completely naked man before.”

A reluctant smile hovered at the corners of his lips. “I'm at your disposal.” He reached out to play with a tendril of fiery hair that curled near her ear.

She was silent for a moment, staring at him without blinking, and he wondered what thoughts occupied her mind. “That is something we should discuss,” she finally murmured. “I suppose we had better set terms.”

“Set terms?” His hand stilled in her hair.

“For our affair.” An uncertain frown marred the smoothness of her brow. “You do want an affair with me, don't you?”

“Hell, yes, I want an affair.” Jack stared at her with amused resignation as he added, “But I should have known you'd want to plan the damned thing out.”

“Is that wrong of me?” Amanda asked. “Why shouldn't I try to arrange an affair in a sensible manner?”

“All right,” he murmured, his voice vibrant with laughter. “Let's go inside and negotiate. I can hardly wait to hear your plans.”

The footman opened the carriage door, and Amanda allowed Jack to escort her inside the empty house. Her legs were shaky and the place between her thighs was wet and sore and stinging. Wryly she reflected that this was certainly a Christmas that she would never forget. A straggling curl of reddish-brown hair fell from her disheveled coiffure, dangling over her right eye. She pushed back the springy lock, tucking it behind her ear, and thought of Jack's urgent fingers clasping her head, his mouth fitted securely to hers.

Surely she hadn't just surrendered her virginity in such a manner…and yet the insistent soreness between her thighs, and the invisible but tangible imprints of his hands on her body, were proof that she had. She searched her soul for regrets, but she had none.

No man had ever made her feel so desirable and fulfilled, and so unlike a spinster. She only hoped that she could keep from revealing her love to him.

For she did love him.

The realization had come over her, not with the immediacy of a summer thunderstorm, but with the slow persistence of April rain. She thought it unlikely that any woman could keep from falling in love with Jack Devlin, as handsome and wily and damaged as he was. She entertained no illusions about his loving her in return, or about the potential of his interest in her withstanding the test of time. If he were capable of loving a woman, he would have done so long before now, with one of the many women he had known in the past.

And even if a woman did manage to entrap him into marriage, it would doubtless be a miserable, unfulfilling experience. He was a handsome man with wealth and position; women would forever be throwing themselves at him. And he'd never be able to return a wife's love.

She would simply take what she could have of him, and do her best to ensure that the affair would not end in bitterness on either side.

They went into the parlor, where Jack extracted matches from a silver match safe and struck a fire in the grate. Amanda sank to the flowered carpet before the leaping blaze, stretching her hands toward the warmth. Lowering himself to the space beside her, Jack slid an arm behind her back. She felt him kiss the top of her head, his mouth moving gently amid the disheveled curls.

“Now tell me your terms, before I ravish you again,” he said, his voice husky.

She struggled to remember exactly which points she had wished to make. It was difficult to think clearly with his body so close to hers. “First, I insist on our mutual discretion,” she said. “I have a great deal to lose, should our intimate relationship become public knowledge. There will be rumors, of course, but as long as we do not flaunt our activities, there will be no great scandal. And also…” She paused as she felt his hand coast along her spine. Her eyes closed, the firelight flickering in scarlet patterns across her eyelids.

“Also?” he prompted, his breath hot against her ear.

“Also, I wish for our affair to be of a limited duration. Three months, perhaps. At the end of that time, we shall conclude the liaison as friends, and go our separate ways.”

Although she could not see Jack's face, she sensed from the sudden tension in his body that the request had startled him. “I suppose you have a list of reasons for that. God knows I'd like to hear them.”

Amanda nodded decisively. “From what I have observed, it always seems that affairs end in boredom, or arguments, or jealousy. But if we decide in advance exactly when and how the affair should be over, we may still be able to part amicably. I should hate to lose your friendship when the passion ends.”

“Why are you so certain that it will end?”

“Well, no affair can last forever…can it?”

Instead of answering, he countered with another question. “What if neither one of us wants to break things off in three months?”

“So much the better. I would rather end it still wanting more, than to drag it out until we are both sick of each other. Besides, our chances of getting caught increase with time…and I have no wish to become a social pariah.”

He urged her to face him, and it seemed that he was somehow torn between amusement and annoyance. “I will still want you in three months,” he told her. “And when that time comes, I reserve the right to try and change your mind.”

“You may do your worst,” she informed him with a gathering smile. “But you will not change my mind. I have a very strong will.”

“So do I.”

They shared gazes filled with pleasurable challenge. Jack's hands curved around Amanda's shoulders, and he nudged her forward, his mouth lowering to hers. They were interrupted, however, by the sounds of someone entering the house, and Jack paused in mid-motion.

“My servants,” Amanda said ruefully. She struggled upward from the floor. Jack rose in a fluid movement, pulling her with him to a standing position.

Despite having known Sukey for most of her life, and enduring the woman's constant needling concerning the lack of a male companion in her life, Amanda was embarrassed by the compromising situation. She felt her face turn hot, even as she assumed a perfectly bland expression. Sukey came to the parlor door and her face went blank with astonishment when she saw that Amanda was alone in the house with Jack Devlin. The disarray of Amanda's clothes and hair, and the intimate atmosphere of the parlor, left little doubt as to what had occurred between them.

“Pardon, Miss Amanda.”

Amanda went to her immediately. “Good evening, Sukey. I trust you and Charles enjoyed your Christmas revels?”

“Very well, miss. A fine night indeed. Is there aught I can do before I settle in for the evening?”

Amanda nodded. “Please bring a ewer of hot water to my bedroom.”

“Yes, miss.” Scrupulously avoiding the sight of Amanda's guest, the housemaid hurried away and headed down to the kitchen.

Before Amanda could move, she felt Jack's hands catch her waist from behind. Gently he pulled her back against his chest, and lowered his head to nuzzle the side of her throat. The pressure of his mouth was hot and light, sending a thrum of delight down to her toes. “I have a condition of my own to add to our agreement,” he said against her skin.

“What is it?” The sound of her own voice, thick and pleasure-fogged, was unfamiliar to her.

“If we are to be lovers for such a short time, then I am going to make the most of it. I want you to promise that you'll withhold nothing from me.” His hand moved down her side in a long caress as he whispered, “I want to do everything with you, Amanda.”

“How would you define ‘everything'?” she parried.

He laughed softly instead of replying, the sound reverberating along every nerve.

Amanda turned to him with a defensive frown. “I can hardly be expected to agree to something if I don't know what it is!”

Jack's mouth twitched with suppressed amusement. “I gave you a copy of Gemma Bradshaw's memoirs,” he said, straight-faced. “That would have provided a considerable amount of enlightenment.”

“I didn't read all of it,” Amanda replied pertly. “Only certain parts…and then I found it much too lurid to continue.”

“I wouldn't have thought a lady who was willing to lose her virginity in a carriage would turn out to be so prudish.” He grinned at her reproving scowl. “Here's our bargain, then. We'll end our affair in three months, per your request, as long as you are willing to do everything described in Gemma's book with me.”

“You're not being serious,” Amanda said, utterly appalled.

“Within reason, of course. One can't be certain that everything in that book is anatomically possible. But it would be interesting to find out, wouldn't it?”

“You are depraved,” she informed him. “You are corrupt and degenerate.”

“Yes, and for the next three months, I'm all yours.” He surveyed her with a wickedly speculative gaze. “Now, exactly how did Chapter One begin?”

Amanda was torn between laughter and horror as she wondered just how much of his outrageous proposal was in earnest. “I believe it started with a particular gentleman being shown the door.”

Jack covered her mouth with his in a deep, sweetly invasive intrusion. “I seem to recall that it started this way,” he murmured. “Let me take you upstairs and demonstrate further.”

Amanda led him to the staircase, but paused before ascending the first step, feeling a surge of bashfulness. In the dark confines of his carriage, it had been easy for her to surrender her hold on reality. However, here in the familiar surroundings of her home, she was all too awkwardly aware of what she was doing.

Seeming to understand her twinge of uncertainty, Jack stopped and pinned her against the banister, his fingers curving around the polished wood on either side of her. His lips held the hint of a smile. “Shall I carry you?”

She stood a step higher than he, so that their faces were level. “No, I am too heavy. You'll drop me, or tumble and break both our necks.”

His blue eyes sparkled with devilish amusement. “I'll have to teach you not to underestimate me.”

“It's not that, I'm just—” She squeaked in surprise as he bent and lifted her easily in his arms. “Oh, don't! No, Jack, you'll drop me.”

But his grip on her was solid, and he appeared not to feel her weight as he carried her up the stairs. “You're not even half my size,” he said. “I could carry you for miles and never miss a breath. Now stop squirming.”

Amanda threw her arms around his shoulders. “You've made your point,” she gasped. “Set me down, please.”

“Oh, I will set you down,” he assured her. “Right onto your bed, as soon as we reach it. Which room is yours?”

“The second door down the hall,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. She had never been carried anywhere like this, and while she felt slightly ridiculous, there was a certain primitive appeal about it. She rested her cheek on his shoulder and allowed herself to enjoy the sensation of being swept up in the arms of a powerful man.

They reached her bedroom, and Jack closed the door with his heel. He set her carefully onto the large bed with its barley-sugar twist posts and yellow-gold damask hangings. Curls of steam rose from the ewer of hot water that had been placed on the corner washstand. Tendrils of flame danced in the fireplace as kindling ignited into a sputtering blaze.

Amanda watched Jack with wide eyes, wondering if he intended to undress right there in front of her. He tossed his coat onto the nearby dressing table and removed his waistcoat and cravat.

Amanda cleared her throat, while her heart picked up an agitated pace and her blood stirred with restless heat. “Jack,” she murmured, “we aren't really going to do Chapter One, are we?”

He grinned as he realized she was referring to
The Sins of Madam B
. “I confess, peaches, that my memory needs refreshing. I can't recall how the damn thing begins…unless you would care to enlighten me?”

“No,” she said abruptly, making him laugh.

Jack approached her with his shirt half unbuttoned, the lamplight gleaming over the muscular surface of his chest. He reached for the teardrop earrings that dangled against her jawline. He removed them gently, and rubbed her sore earlobes with his thumbs and forefingers. Setting the jewelry aside on the night table, he unpinned her hair. Amanda closed her eyes, her breath coming in unsteady swishes. His every motion was slow and careful, as if she were some fragile creature that required extremely gentle handling.

“There must have been some part of Gemma's book that you liked.” Removing her shoes, he dropped them to the carpeted floor. “Something that intrigued you…that excited you.”

She jumped a little as she felt his hands clasp her ankles and slide up to her garters. The bands were untied with a few deft twists. Jack rolled down her silk stockings one at a time, pausing to stroke the firm curves of her calves. His fingertips tickled the susceptive places behind her knees, causing her legs to twitch in pleasured reaction.

“I would hardly tell you such things,” she protested with a choked laugh. “Besides, I didn't like any part of that dreadful book.”

“Oh, yes, you did,” he said softly. “And you are going to tell me, peaches. After all we've shared so far, a fantasy or two won't be that difficult.”

She hedged. “You tell me yours first.”

He closed his hands around her ankles, pulling her toward him. “I have fantasies that involve every part of you. Your hair, your mouth and breasts…even your feet.”

“My
feet?
” She jolted in reaction as she felt his thumbs stroke over her arches, soothing away little knots of tension. He placed her foot on the front of his trousers, right where a thick, heavy ridge strained against the blend of wool and broadcloth. The heat of his body saturated the fabric and seemed to scorch the sole of her foot, and her toes curled in automatic reaction.

Feeling embarrassed and aroused, Amanda peeked at him through her lashes, and saw the hint of playfulness in his devil-blue eyes. She snatched her foot away and heard him laugh. Then he removed the rest of his clothes and let them rustle to the floor. The room became quiet, except for the crackle of the little fire in the hearth. Amanda risked a shy glance at the bare male form in front of her, and her gaze was riveted by the sight. The interplay of darkness and firelight threw every detail of him into stark relief, all muscle and golden skin and intimate shadows, and long, sinewy lines that conveyed both elegance and power. She had not imagined that someone could be so comfortable with his own nakedness, and yet he stood before her as easily as if he were fully dressed. His body was aroused, a gloriously masculine flaunting of desire that he made no effort to conceal. As Amanda stared at him, a low, coursing pleasure filled her limbs. She had never wanted anything in her life as she did in this moment…to feel the heavy naked weight of his body over hers, to feel his breath pelt her skin and his hands grasp and guide her.