Chapter 18
Where was Lord Blackthorn?
He’d said he’d come tonight. Even if he only came here to safeguard his “investment” as he called it, this night made her all the more uneasy and excited.
Anxious was a more fitting word.
Kate had left the room over an hour ago, and here Amelia was standing in front of the large mirror, frowning at her blond hair that hung loose about her shoulders and her dull brown eyes. Dull, dull, dull. And her body! She didn’t have voluptuous curves or a large bosom that men seemed to like and stare at. Her bosom was average, she supposed.
And she had these small freckles despite the fact that she spent most of her days indoors. She touched her lips that were too full—
No, no, no. What was she doing? Why on earth was she doing this to herself, staring at her body and face as if she were to be presented to a man on a platter? And why now? She had never looked at herself this way before. She was acting like a harlot waiting to hook a customer and that notion made her ill.
She groaned and slowly walked over to her bed and slipped under the thick blanket. Should she have blown out the candles? Or left them burning for him? Oh, heavens, this man was driving her mad. There was really no need for him to come and stay in her room. It was scandalous. She looked at the window that had been fixed since this afternoon.
Honesty, Amelia, she said to herself. He may not even come. Then, slow creaks on the floor got her attention. She jerked up, looking around the room, her heart pumping hard in her chest. She listened in the dark for several seconds, but there was nothing. No Lord Blackthorn. Perhaps he had changed his mind. Quite unlike him. He seemed like a man who kept his promise.
She shook it off and lay back down. Less than ten minutes later, she was drowsily falling asleep. In her dream, Lord Blackthorn came to her, kissed her goodnight and sat on the chair near the hearth to watch her sleep. She felt protected. Loved.
Lovely dream indeed . . .
Then she heard someone talking. She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids were heavy. Rubbing them, she tried to open her eyes again. When she did, the room was dark. Had the candlelight gone out? It must have.
“I had no choice,” someone mumbled in the dark.
She held the blanket close to her. Someone was in her room. “Who’s there?” she said. Nothing for several seconds.
“Should have been there . . .” came the voice again.
“Hello?” She quickly lit the candles next to her. As the room slowly came to light in a warm yellow hue, she saw him.
On her chair next to the hearth, Lord Blackthorn sat sleeping in a most uncomfortable position, his coat half falling off him, his long legs stretched out in front of him. When had he arrived? Her heart leaped for joy that he had come, but the fact that he could sneak into and out of her house did not give her comfort.
She got up and walked over to him and watched him for a minute. She reached out to touch the dark strands of his hair, but stopped. Afraid to wake him, she allowed herself to enjoy the intimacy of this moment. The stubble was coming in dark now and she had an urge to touch it. Rather than fulfil her wants, she let her gaze trail lower to his lips with a tugging in her heart. She tasted them. Caressed them with her own mouth.
“No, stop this. Someone will get killed,” he mumbled.
She knelt next to him and watched him. His brows creased with worry and a muscle quivered at his jaw as if he were in pain.
“Lord Blackthorn,” she said softly, shaking him gently at first, then giving him a shove to get him to open his eyes. In one swift motion, he had a knife to the base of her neck. His eyes were intense, black and ready to attack.
She dared not move. It took a moment for Lord Blackthorn to realize who she was and what he had done. He put the knife down and sat up. He took a moment to compose himself.
“What happened?” he said, running his hand through the thick of his hair.
She touched her neck. “You had a nightmare.”
“I’m sorry about the knife.” He tucked it inside his boot. “A habit hard to break.”
She stood up and sat on the edge of her bed. “It’s all right. You didn’t know.” She watched him stand and wipe his face with his hands. “When did you arrive?” The candlelight splashed across him, giving sharp contrast to the contours of his handsome face.
He looked at the small mantel clock. “About an hour ago.”
“Why did you not wake me?” she asked.
“You were sound asleep.” He smiled. “Go back to sleep.”
All of a sudden, she felt naked as his eyes raked over her, then slowly dropped to her bosom. “So you can watch me all night?”
He walked over to her and she stood to meet his eyes, her back against the bedpost.
“I will not watch you. Go to sleep,” he whispered with a smile, and kissed her forehead, but he didn’t touch her. “Sleep, my sweet Amelia.”
The sound of her name on his lips was like candy. She wanted to hear it again and again. “Does this mean I can call you Richard?”
“Yes,” he answered. “In fact, I prefer it.”
God, why did he have to smile like that? There was a warmth that echoed in his voice, one that made her heart melt with need. This strange need that had kept tugging at her all day today. This need that she could no longer deny. “I insist we share the bed.”
“No,” he said, watching her.
Well, at least she knew he had no interest in her that way. Why did this not surprise her? What would a man like him, an earl, gain from her other than the inheritance? Was that all she was worth? Her money? She turned to walk away, and he stopped her, pulling her close to him.
“I want to,” he confessed, “but I can’t.”
“Why not?” she said. That didn’t help either. “It’s just a bed, Richard.” She watched as his gaze fell to her lips.
“Believe me, you don’t want me in that bed,” he whispered. He lifted her chin. “I can’t promise that I will behave if I am in that bed with you.”
“Then don’t,” she said, shocked that she had actually said it. Her heart pumped wildly in her chest at the prospect of making love to this man, to be bound naked together, to feel the warmth of his manhood inside her. She had fought it, and she couldn’t fight it any longer. She wanted him, wanted to taste him just this once. She might as well, knowing that the rest of her life would be spent without men.
“I can’t, knowing what I will do and I will have to leave you,” he confessed. “Believe me when I say that I don’t intend to remain married to you or stay in London. I can’t give you that.”
“I know,” she said, searching his eyes. “I don’t expect this to be more than what is it.” She was her mom’s daughter, she thought with irony. But if that was the case, why fight it tonight, when she had a gorgeous man standing in front of her?
“What do you think this is?” he asked.
“Lust.”
His brows lifted. “Oh, my sweet, it’s far more than that.”
This was entirely dangerous, but she knew if she didn’t do it now, she’d lose her nerve. Even now, her body ached for his touch. She lifted her chin and on tiptoe, kissed him on his warm lips. It was more like a peck, and he made no move to kiss her back.
“Think of it as a favor,” she whispered to him. “Take off your clothes.” She stepped away. “I want to see you. All of you.” This was not like her. Not even close, but it was intensely liberating.
He said nothing. Oh, the anticipation was too great, too delicious. She sat down on the chair and watched him, rippling with excitement.
He loosened his cravat and tossed it aside, and her heart leaped. Then he pulled his shirt off in one swift motion and tossed it on the floor. “Is this what you want to see?”
She gulped at the beauty before her. Oh, yes. The planes of his chest were as flat as a board, with ripples of muscles on his midsection, and above the gold beauty of his stomach, his chest swelled with muscles. Muscles that flexed and flexed as he moved his arms, all the while not looking away from her.
Her eyes raked from his powerful shoulders down to his muscled arms—arms that now removed his boots, one by one, tossing them aside. Then his hand fiddled with the button to remove the breeches and he quickly tossed them. In that instant, when he faced her in the dimness of candlelight, her breath caught, and for several seconds she forgot to breathe.
His manhood was erect and proud as he walked closer to her. Speckles of black curls at the base of him made her want to reach out and touch them, unable to look away. God, he was glorious. Beautiful.
He took her hand in his and helped her cup his erection and slowly stroke it. He was warm and soft. Very soft. She felt the agonizing ache between her legs and her nipples perked up painfully.
Looking up, she saw the fiery intensity in his eyes, and she knew he was enjoying this. So was she, sinfully so.
“This isn’t fair,” he let out between hot breaths. “I want to see you.”
“In a moment,” she breathed out, enjoying the feel of him in her hand. Then just as naturally, she licked the tip of his erection with her tongue, tasting his heated flesh that felt like velvet in her mouth. The flavor of him was foreign to her, but she knew she liked this. More than liked it, actually.
“Let me,” he groaned out.
She stopped kissing him there. He gave it a few more strokes as she watched him in delight. With a final tug, he released his seed into the cravat he’d picked up from the floor.
He pulled her up to meet him and slowly pulled her gown over her head and tossed it, moving his lips down her neck to the erect mounds of her nipples. She gasped at the sensation when he licked her nipple with his tongue, as if he could not satisfy his hunger.
This delightful touch was like being in paradise, and she didn’t want it to end. She ran her fingers though his black hair. He moved lower, but he didn’t stop licking and kissing her. Then, he lifted her in his arms and took her to bed. He nestled himself next to her and kissed her again.
“My turn to please you.”
“You already did,” she said, searching his eyes.
“Believe me, my sweet, you will enjoy this.” He kissed his way down.
“What are you doing?”
“Pleasing you,” he said, meeting her eyes and smiling. “Let me.”
He kissed her belly, then moved lower, kissing her all the way to the apex of her sex. He kissed her gently, and she widened her legs for him. She was wet and throbbing for him. This ache was unbearable. Just then, as if he heard her plea, he licked deep into her heat, sucking as she moaned in pleasure. Oh God, what was he doing to her? This sensation was more than she could bear, and his tongue was doing magical things to her as he licked the valley of her sex until her core throbbed, and she climaxed.
He came up to join her and kissed her forehead. “Sleep, my sweet.” He pulled the blanket over them and pulled her close to him, her buttocks pressing hard on his erection. His arms embraced her. “We have a long day tomorrow.”
“Richard,” she whispered. “What were you dreaming about?”
He was quiet for a moment. “Max.”
“Your brother?”
“Yes.”
She wondered what he’d been through that would cause nightmares. She waited a few minutes before asking him, but before she could speak, she heard a soft snore as he quickly fell asleep. She smiled. This feeling, this warmth next to him, felt so right. She felt so comforted and protected. When she pulled away to put out the candle on the candelabra, he pulled her back to him.
“Where are you going?”
“Putting out the candles so we can sleep.” She blew the flame out then snuggled into him again, and as he wrapped his arms around her she soon fell asleep.
It wasn’t until several hours later that Blackthorn awoke in the darkness in her room and felt the soft curves of Amelia next to him. This beauty that was curled up to him and sound asleep, his angel.
He sighed, knowing this could not last and he could not give her what she would ultimately want from him. Nothing in this world, not even this beauty next to him, would change his mind on that fact.
Gently removing himself from the bed, he put on his shirt, breeches, and boots. Putting his arms into his coat, he slipped out of the room as easily as he had come in and faced the cool early morning of London.
Just before sunrise, he thought, as he closed the door that led to the mews. He’d go home, get changed, and eat breakfast before they looked for Cook. Pulling his collar up to ward off the morning chill, he briskly walked toward his townhouse.