The Stranger I Married Part 23

She had dressed differently tonight, in beautiful golden silk that hugged her body perfectly. Understanding how hounded she was by fortune hunters, he appreciated her need to fade into the woodwork with ill-fitting, unattractive garments and hide in dark gardens.

Lifting his head, he murmured, "You are aware of where these meetings are leading?"

She nodded, her chest rising and falling against his with panting breaths.

"Are you also aware of where this cannot lead? There are limits imposed by my station. I should accept them gracefully and walk away, but I am weak-"

She silenced him with her fingers over his lips, her piquant face lit with a dazzling grin. "I do love that you have no wish at all to marry me. To me, that is not a weakness, but a strength."

Rhys blinked. "Beg your pardon?"

"There is no doubt in my mind that you want me, and not my money. It is quite remarkable really."

"Is it?" he choked out, his c.o.c.k as hard as a poker. Why the devil this woman had such an effect on him he could not collect.

"Quite. Men who look like you never find anything at all appealing about women who look like me."

"Fools, the lot of them." The conviction in his voice was genuine.

Abby leaned her cheek against his chest with a soft laugh. "Of course. Why men like Lord Grayson are so taken with women who look like Lady Grayson when I am around is an absolute mystery."

He stiffened, shocked at the undeniable flare of jealousy he felt. "You are attracted to Grayson?"

"What?" She pulled back. "I find him attractive, certainly. I doubt there is a woman alive who wouldn't. But I am not attracted to him personally, no."

"Oh..." He cleared his throat.

"How will you begin my ravishment?"

"Little one." He shook his head, but could not restrain his indulgent smile. Brus.h.i.+ng the back of his hand along the curve of her cheekbone, he admired the way the moon was reflected in her eyes. "Understand, I mean to have more than a few kisses and some improper fondling. I will bare your skin, spread your thighs, steal what should be a gift for your husband."

"That sounds wicked," she breathed, gazing up at him raptly.

"It will be. But I a.s.sure you, you will enjoy every moment."

He, however, will probably wallow in guilt for the rest of his life, but he wanted her desperately enough to make that future torment worthwhile.

He pressed his lips very softly to hers, his hand at her waist slipping to cup what felt to be a fine derriere. "Are you certain this is what you want?"

"Yes. I have no doubts. I am seven and twenty. I have met hundreds of gentlemen over the course of my life and none of them have affected me as you have. What if no man ever will but you? I will regret forever that I did not enjoy what I could of your attentions."

His heart clenched painfully. "Losing your virginity to a cad such as myself will make your wedding night very awkward."

"No, it will not," she a.s.sured him confidently. "If I do marry, it will be with a man who is smitten enough with me to skip dinner like Lord Grayson has done for Lady Grayson."

"What Grayson feels is not 'smitten,' love," he said dryly.

Abby waved a careless hand. "Whatever name you give to it, he grants no significance to anything in her past. My future spouse will feel the same about me."

"You sound so certain."

"I am. You see, he would have to love me desperately to win my hand, and a little matter of a torn piece of flesh would not matter to him. In fact, I intend to tell any future spouse of mine all about you, and-"

"Good G.o.d!"

"Well, not literally," she hastened to say. Her gaze turned dreamy, her smile fond. "I would simply tell him of the man who made my stomach flutter and my heart race when he smiled. How wonderful that man was to me, what happiness he brought me after the death of my parents left my life a misery. And he will understand, Lord Trenton, because when you love someone that is what you do. You understand."

"What a dreamer you are," he scoffed in an attempt to hide how deeply her words touched him.

"Am I?" Frowning, she pulled away. "I suppose you are correct. My mother warned me once that affairs are practical endeavors, not the stuff of romance."

Rhys arched a brow, then linked their fingers and pulled her toward a nearby bench. "Your mother said that?"

"She said it was foolish of women to think that affairs were grand pa.s.sions and marriages a duty. She said it should be the opposite. Affairs should be nothing more than a satiation of needs. Marriages should be lifelong commitments to deep-seated desires. My mother was a forward-thinking woman. After all, she did marry an American."

"Ah yes, that's true." Sitting, he pulled Abby into his lap. She weighed nearly nothing and he tucked her close, resting his chin on her head. "So she is the one responsible for filling your head with all that love nonsense."

"It's not nonsense," she chided. "My parents were mad for each other and very, very happy. The smiles on their faces when they were together again after an absence...The glow they had when they shared a smile over the dining table...Wonderful."

Licking the exposed column of her throat, he reached her ear and whispered. "I can show you wonderful, Abby."

"Oh my." She s.h.i.+vered. "I swear my stomach just turned a flip."

He loved how he affected her, how open and innocent she was in her responses. She was so pure of character. Not because she was naive-she saw the workings of the world clearly-but because the less admirable facets of mankind did not disillusion her. Yes, she had been hunted by disreputable gentlemen, but she saw that for what it was-the stupidity and greed of a few men. The rest of the world was given the benefit of her doubt.

It was that quality of hopefulness which he found so irresistible. He would most likely be d.a.m.ned to perdition for taking her, but he could do nothing else. The thought of never having her, never experiencing her joy in pa.s.sion was unbearable.

"What wing of the manse are you in?" he murmured, wanting to lie with her now.

"Let me come to you."

"Why?"

"Because you are the more experienced and jaded of the two of us."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Would the woman ever cease confounding his wits?

"You have this scent about you, my lord. Your cologne and soap and starch. It is quite delicious and when your skin heats up, the smell sometimes makes me feel as if I could swoon. I can only imagine how much more p.r.o.nounced the effect will be after the physical exertions of lovemaking. I doubt I would be able to sleep a wink with that scent all over my bed linens. For you, however, the odor of s.e.x would be nothing of note. Therefore, I should smell up your sheets, rather than you smell up mine."

"I see." Before he knew what he was doing, he had her bent over the cool stone bench and he was kneeling over her, taking her mouth with a need he had not felt since...since...blasted! Who in h.e.l.l cared when it had been. It was d.a.m.n well happening now.

His hands cupped the slight curves of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and squeezed, eliciting a moan from her that swelled upward and filled the area of the garden they occupied. Discovery was a very real hazard and yet he could not find the will to cease. He was drunk on her scent, her response, the way she arched upward into his embrace and then shrank back, frightened.

"My very skin aches," she whispered, writhing.

"Hush, love," he soothed, his lips moving against hers.

"I-I feel so hot."

"Shhh, I will ease you." He stroked down the length of her side trying to gentle what was quickly becoming a wild pa.s.sion.

Her hands slipped between his coat and waistcoat, clawing at his back. The scratching made his c.o.c.k throb and he paid her in kind by sc.r.a.ping the tips of his short nails across her hardened nipples. With one hand gloved and the other not, he knew the dual sensations would madden her.

"Christ almighty," she gasped. Then she grabbed his a.s.s and yanked their hips together.

His breath hissed between his teeth. She cried out.

"Abby. We must find a room."

She turned her face into his throat, her lips moving feverishly across the sweat-dampened skin. "Take me here."

"Don't tempt me," he muttered, certain he was only minutes away from doing just that. If anyone were to stumble upon them now, there would be no way to explain. He was crouched over her like an obvious lecher. She was the innocent, who hadn't the wherewithal to deny a seasoned rake's advances.

How had they ended up like this? A stolen moment or two of her company, and he was about to break his one cardinal rule: no deflowering virgins. What fun was there in that? No quick rut, this. There would be blood, tears. He would have to seduce her properly, take his time, delay his own gratification...

"My lord, please!"

h.e.l.l and d.a.m.nation. It sounded like heaven.

"Abigail." He meant to hurry her off so they could meet naked-er, properly. But he was having the hardest time removing his fingers from around her nipples. Yes, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were small, but her nipples were not. He couldn't wait to- Her lovely gown tore as he yanked the shoulder down and bared her breast. She cried out again as he lowered his mouth and suckled her. Such long, delicious nipples. They rolled over his tongue like berries and were just as sweet.

"Please, oh please, my lord." She arched upward into his mouth and he almost came, that silken undulation an unbearable tease to his near-to-bursting c.o.c.k.

It was only the sound of approaching laughter that saved her from ruination on a garden bench.

"b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l." He moved swiftly, pulling her up and straightening her bodice. The nipple he had been sucking poked wantonly through the silk and he rubbed his thumb over it, unable to help himself.

"Don't stop!" she protested loudly, forcing him to cover her mouth with his hand.

"Someone is coming, love." He waited until she nodded her understanding. "Do you know where my room is?" She nodded again. "I will be there shortly. Don't dally. I will hunt you down if you do."

Her eyes widened. Then she nodded emphatically.

"Go."

Rhys watched her take a side path toward the manse and disappear from sight. Then he ducked behind a nearby vine-covered arbor and waited. It wouldn't do for both of them to return to the house too closely to each other. Even if neither or only one were seen, it was best to be overly cautious.

"But to pet.i.tion Parliament, Celeste?" came Lady Hammond's voice from a nearby intersecting lane. "Think of the scandal!"

"I have thought of nothing but that for nearly five years," retorted the dowager Lady Grayson. "I have never been so mortified as I was when they did not attend dinner this evening. Which was an excellent repast, I must say."

"Thank you." There was a long pause, then, "Grayson seems quite taken with his wife."

"In only the most superficial sense, Iphiginia. Besides, she has no wish to be married. Not only has she proven that over the last four years, she has also said as much to me."

"She did not!"

Blinking, Rhys thought exactly the same thing. Isabel would never say such a thing to Grayson's mother.

"She did," the dowager replied. "She and I have agreed to a.s.sist each other."

"You jest!"

Good G.o.d! Rhys growled low in his throat. Bella would not be pleased when he saw her again. d.a.m.ned if he wouldn't be pulling her out of another sc.r.a.pe.

Waiting until the women moved further along, he then left his hiding spot and moved surrept.i.tiously through the garden toward the manse, where sinful pleasures awaited him.

Abby paused a moment at Trenton's doorway, wondering if one was supposed to knock before an a.s.signation, or if she now had the right to just walk in unannounced. She was still debating this when the door flew open and she was yanked inside.

"What the devil took you so long?" Trenton complained, turning the lock and scowling down at her adorably.

Her stomach performed its little somersault again.

He was dressed in a burgundy silk robe, which revealed dark curling hair on his chest and hair-dusted calves that betrayed his nakedness beneath. With his arms akimbo, he was missing only the tapping foot to be a perfect picture of impatience.

Over her.

Her stomach flipped again.

How beautiful he was. What perfection! She sighed audibly. He was, of course, a bit hyperopic to miss her lack of physical charms, but she would not complain about that.

He reached for her and she sidestepped quickly. "Wait!"

"For what?" His scowl deepened.

"I-I have something to show you."

"If it's not you naked and writhing," he grumbled, "I am not interested."

She laughed.

She had watched him during dinner, noting his ready charm and droll discourse. The females seated on either side of him had been captivated, but she had felt his regard return to her often.

"Grant me a moment." She arched a brow when he opened his mouth to protest. "This is my deflowering. Once we reach the bed, I will cede command of this affair to you. Until then, however, I would like the preliminaries to be under my control."

Trenton's lips twitched and his eyes sparkled with a heat that made her s.h.i.+ver with antic.i.p.ation. If his behavior in the garden was any indication, he was going to devour her. "As you wish, love."

Moving behind the privacy screen, she began to undress. This was not at all how she had imagined losing her virginity. There was no tender, patient husband waiting to treat her like fine porcelain. There was no ring on her finger or name attached to hers.

"What the devil are you doing?" he muttered, as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world and worthy of such avid interest.

He did have a way of looking at her that made her feel beautiful.

"I am almost done." She had dressed in the gown that was the simplest to remove without a.s.sistance, but it was still a ch.o.r.e. Finally, though, she was free and prepared. Taking a deep breath, Abby stepped out from behind the screen.

"About b.l.o.o.d.y..." His words faded into silence as he ceased pacing and turned to face her.

She s.h.i.+fted nervously under the sudden overwhelming heat of his gaze. "h.e.l.lo."