Chapter 16
Rachel gasped when he gathered her into his arms and carried her to the other room, shutting the door with his foot, a latch clicked into place. He stood her beside the cot. “What we are to do, Rachel is between a man and woman, husband and wife.”
She pressed two fingers to his lips. “I want this to be magic, to be memorable.”
“Do not move,” he ordered.
With no opposition from her, he reached behind and unfastened a row of buttons, pushing away her dress. She shivered as the delicate gown glided down her body and pooled at her feet. He tugged at her lacings, tossed the corset away. Naked now, Rachel covered herself. He moved her hands to her sides, her nipples grazing the soft silk of his shirt.
“You never need to cover yourself. You are beyond beautiful.”
Trapped in a whirl of heady arousal, she watched, intrigued as he shirked out of his shirt, reveling in the lean muscularity of his chest, arms and shoulders. She longed to run her hands across his skin, to glide her fingers over every muscle and sinew of him. Her gaze followed the line of hair rising from beneath his breeches to his chest, admiring his trim waist and the width of his shoulders. Pulsing heat spread between her legs.
“What if someone discovers us?”
He looked over his shoulder. “The lock would hold back an invasion of the Huns.”
Rachel moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. He watched her with hunger in his eyes. A slight sheen lit his body, sleek, and strong, without the excess bulk conspicuous of nobility. He finished shedding his breeches, and her eyes widened, her gaze riveted to his manhood, impressive and frightening.
“I will be gentle with you,” he promised.
Husband and wife. A proposal? Her heart hammered. Impossible. But his tenderness was her undoing, for she grew terrified and excited and she wanted it to be him before she withdrew to the isolation of Boston as a lonely spinster. To have this experience with the man she loved but could not have.
“This is a time for sharing, a time for loving.” Reverently, he lay her on the bed, and then took her in his arms, pillowing his head in the veil of her hair. He smelled wonderful. Clean, strong, vital male. They gazed into each other’s eyes awed by the majesty of the moment, both understanding and yearning for so much more.
He brushed her hair with his fingertips. “How many times have I conjured this very moment in my mind? Now you are here in my arms, your warmth and sweet scent to taunt me.”
With incredible perceptiveness, she sensed his vulnerability and reached up to stroke his cheek, outlining the sharp-angled planes of his face. She memorized everything about him. To know the way his analytical mind worked, his fight and thrill of discovery, his persistence, and talent. The way he kept her safe and secure. The way he listened to the wrongs inflicted on her. His consideration, his caring, his gaze riveted on her with tenderness. There existed a million different things about him that she held to her heart.
“Let this time be a long series of experiments,” she whispered. She was a trembling bow-string ready to snap.
Rachel felt the hard boldness of him, pressed to her side, saw the smoldering flames in his eyes. He bent to take her lips, searing a trail down her throat and shoulder. A warm hand closed over her breast, caressing in circles then capturing a nipple and squeezing it between his fingers before trailing to her next breast. She reached up and smoothed her hands over his shoulder, feeling his heat like a hot iron beneath her fingertips.
He crushed her to him, his hands exploring the hollows of her back and down over her hips, automatically she curled into the curve of his body. Her breasts tingled against the muscles of his chest. His hand and lips were everywhere, the gentle massage sending currents of desire through her. His mouth moved to her breast, his tongue caressed her sensitive swollen nipple.
“Do you like that?”
“Yes.” She arched toward him.
His hand seared a path down her abdomen and onto her thigh. He stroked there and she groaned, pushing her hips into his hand. His palm sought the warmth of her woman’s mound, circling her wet cleft. She jerked.
“Fascinating.” He did it again. She writhed.
Urging her thighs further apart, he slid his fingers deep into her.
Heat scorched her belly and lower, a distinct warmth flooded between her legs. She whimpered unable to get enough, raising her hips to the splendid mastery of his fingers, sinking and withdrawing.
“I must test and retest,” he said raggedly.
He kissed her with raw passion, parting her lips, and setting her nerves ablaze with a slow search for her tongue. Rachel’s hands crept around his neck, her breath labored, her body turning light and hot. When he dragged his mouth from hers, she kept her arms around him, her head spinning.
“I want to ask you a very pointed but hypothetical question.”
“What’s your question?” she said unsteadily.
“I don’t want you to go back to America.”
“That’s a statement, not a question.” Oh, why did he stop now? She swallowed and found the courage to look up at him. “Your wife should be of nobility and of equivalent pedigree.”
“We will discuss this later.”
“Anthony?”
“Hmm?” His lips played at the sensitive corners of her mouth.
She had one week remaining. “I’m leaving.”
“And I’m allergic to dogs.”
Like a bird in a cage that sings when it knows it is dying, she said, “I cannot fill those shoes especially if you are to be the next duke. I have to go.”
“We’ll see about your departure.”
“You cannot stop me.”
“Hush,” he cradled her face in his hands. Brushed his lips over hers. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen even if I have to chain you to this lab.” His fingertips slid up and down her slender neck, toying with the fine curls at her nape. He nudged her legs apart, continued his stroking until she cried out for that intangible, elusive sensation to give her release. He withdrew his hand, pushing her thighs apart. “Look at me,” he said fiercely, staring into her face.
Her dark lashes lifted, and she held his intense gaze. She grabbed him then, guided him to her. He thrust slowly into her with incredible control, and then stopped.
“From what I’ve heard, it will hurt for only, a moment.”
He looked so severe and concerned above her. With trembling fingers, she touched his jaw. “I trust you.”
He drove into her and muffled her cry with his smoldering kisses. He stopped. “I’m so sorry, Rachel.”
She moved, adjusting to his throbbing fullness. He began anew. Each time, he penetrated a little further, stretching her, moving with insistent rhythm. Rachel stroked the smooth surface of his back, and her pleasure mounted. Her fingers dug into the plane of his muscle. His breath faster now. Her fingers drifted from his shoulders, digging into his hips, her heart racing. She heard him whisper to her then, in broken phrases he couldn’t seem to hold back. “You’re beautiful…so intelligent…I love you.”
Confused, disbelieving, silken desire exploded within her, around her like the electrical fire that bounced off the walls, ceiling and floor. She was drowning in feelings she could not name or describe as his hands clenched her buttocks now, lifted her, felt him suck in his breath, stiffen and then plunge into her, waves of warmth poured from him.
They lay entwined as lovers, drifting off to sleep, and then making love again...and again. The musk and scent of his body filled her nostrils and she was floating in languid contentment. It was all a dream, a wonderful fairytale, and yet, she had to give it all up.
That it was done of her love for him yielded the greatest sacrifice of all.
She would take home memories that time would never erase, but the heartbreaking reality was knowing that an eternity would not make the soul-drenching loss forgettable. Only bearable.
In the gossamer haze of the late afternoon, sunlight stretched long shadows, glistening on the glassware, shimmering over the cabinets and gliding over the cot in a subdued riot of color. Still joined intimately to her, Anthony stirred, a frown marring his handsome face. “Perhaps we can come home early from that dratted ball you need to attend and discuss the universe.”
She bit her lip. Next week she’d sail to Lisbon, and then home. Whatever time she had remaining she would share with Anthony. “We could arrive late. Could draw some more conclusions.”
“Agreed. I’m on the precipice of something more and not accustomed to finalizing conclusions after only five observations.”
With heavy-lidded eyes, she stretched cat-like, loving the feel of him already hardening in her. “Better make it six observations—to be sure.”
She was like warm pliant clay, her body damp with perspiration, her arms limp on the pillow. Anthony rolled and cradled her in his arms. Rachel smoothed a finger over Anthony’s chest. “I can delay no longer. I need to go and dress before someone comes looking for us.”
Casey barked. The dog ran back and forth to the cot.
“What is wrong with the dog?”
Anthony nuzzled her. “Probably can’t get to my favorite flask.”
She pushed at his chest. “The ruff is up on her collar. What if it is a servant who has come to remind us to get ready for the evening’s event?”
Anthony cursed and heaved himself from the bed, jerked on his pants and shirt, pattered out into the laboratory. “No one is here.”
Rachel breathed a sigh of relief, dressed, then presented her back to Anthony, allowing him to fasten her buttons.
“I rather like this domestic responsibility.” He placed her coat about her shoulders, and then kissed her long and lingeringly. “You go on ahead and get ready for the evening’s event. I’ll clean up the lab.”