Again the Magic (28 page)

“Is this all right?” he whispered.

She sighed deeply. “Oh yes.”

They lay together for a long time, until Livia’s tension eased, and her silk-draped body was warm and pliant. One of her feet moved, her toes exploring the hairy surface of his leg. Gideon drew in his breath sharply as he felt her hips inch backward until they were cradled against his. With only a thin layer of fabric between them, she could not help but be aware of the turgid length of his erection.

“Are you sober?” she asked, nestling closer.

Gideon was acutely aroused by the voluptuous brush of her body against his hard, sensitive flesh. “I occasionally am, despite my best efforts to prevent it,” he said huskily. “Why do you ask?”

She took his hand and pulled it to her breast. “Now you can seduce me without being able to claim afterward that you didn’t know what you were doing.”

The sweet little hill beneath his fingers was too insanely tantalizing for Gideon to resist. He caressed her lightly over the silk, then slipped his hand beneath the robe. “Livia, darling, the unfortunate fact is, I nearly always know what I’m doing.”

She gasped a little at the velvety stroke of his thumb and forefinger against her nipple. “Why is that unfortunate?”

“Because at times like this, my conscience is screaming at me to leave you alone.”

Turning in his arms, Livia slid one of her thighs over his hip. “Tell your conscience
this,”
she said, and fastened her mouth to his.

Requiring no further encouragement, Gideon took her lips in slow, drifting, gently inquiring kisses. He opened the silk robe as if he were peeling a fragile, exotic fruit, laying her bare before him. His head lowered, and his mouth traveled tenderly over her downy skin. Finding the vulnerable places where her pulse beat most strongly, he stroked her with his lips and tongue, and caught at her lightly with his teeth until she made shivering sounds of delight. He had never known such an overwhelming need to penetrate, to enter, to possess another human being. Whispering her name, he touched the place between her thighs, where the flesh was silken and very wet, and he slipped his fingers inside her. Livia went rigid at his touch, delicate splotches of passion marking her skin, her hands opening and closing frantically against his shoulders.

Gideon teased her languidly, loving her faraway expression, the sensual helplessness of a woman being fondled and stroked into climax. Livia’s eyes closed as she gave herself over to his gentle skill, gasping and arching in mounting pleasure. She reached the peak, going stiff against him, her toes curling tightly. “Yes,” he whispered, his thumb swirling over her clitoris, “yes, sweet lady, sweet darling…” He brought her down slowly, tracing erotic patterns in the damp thatch of curls between her thighs, kissing her breasts until she was calm and still beneath him. Then he drew his lips over her midriff, and the soft skin of her stomach, and he pressed her thighs open with his hands.

Livia moaned as his tongue found her, while his thumb pushed inside the swollen entrance of her body. Gideon nibbled and teased her, loving the sounds she made, the rhythmic undulation of her hips as they rose against his demanding mouth. Feeling the delicate clench of her muscles around his thumb, he realized that she was at the edge of another orgasm, and he withdrew his hand slowly. With a little protesting cry, she stretched her entire body toward him. He levered himself over her, spread her trembling limbs, and thrust inside her warm, pulsing softness.

“Oh God,” he whispered, suddenly unable to move, so intense was his pleasure.

Purring, Livia wrapped her slim arms around his back and rocked her hips upward to engulf his stiff length and pull him deeper. He answered her movements compulsively, nudging, pushing, then plunging, until the sweet impact of flesh into flesh was too much to bear. She held her breath and shuddered, her body tightening around him in a rippling inner caress. Gideon withdrew from her with a harsh cry, his cock throbbing in frenzied release against her stomach.

Groaning, he collapsed beside her dizzily, his pulse thudding in his chest and loins and ears.

A long time passed before either of them could speak. Livia lifted her face from his shoulder and smiled drowsily. “Amberley never did that, at the end,” she told him, her fingers playing in the hair on his chest.

Gideon grinned suddenly at the reference to his last-second withdrawal. “It’s the coffeehouse method of contraception.”

“Coffeehouse?”

“You go in and out without ever spending anything,” he explained, and she pushed against him with a muffled laugh. He caught her wrists easily. “Livia… I have to protect you from the consequences of what we’re doing, until—”

“I know,” she interrupted, pulling away from him. Clearly she did not want to discuss anything of importance right now. Slipping out of bed, she gave him a provocative smile. “We’ll talk about that later. But for now…”

“Yes?”

“Come and bathe me,” she said… and he obliged without hesitation.

T
he first morning of waking in Gideon Shaw’s arms made Livia feel as if the world had been transformed while she had slept. She had never expected to feel this intimate connection with a man again. Perhaps only those who had loved and lost could truly appreciate this magic, she thought, nestling against the soft, springy fur that covered his chest. As Gideon slept, his face robbed of its usual expressiveness, he had the countenance of a stern angel. Smiling, Livia let her gaze trace over the severe beauty of his features, the long straight nose, the lushness of his lips, the widow’s peak that caused a stray lock of amber-gold hair to fall over his forehead.

“You’re too handsome for words,” she informed him, when he yawned and stretched. “It’s a wonder that you can get anyone to listen to you seriously, when they probably just want to sit and stare at you for hours.”

His voice was sleep-scratchy. “I don’t want anyone to listen to me seriously. That would be dangerous.”

Smiling, Livia smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “I must return to Marsden Terrace before Mrs. Smedley awakens.”

“Who is Mrs. Smedley?” Gideon rolled to pin her beneath him, nuzzling into the warm curve of her neck.

“My chaperone. She’s old, hard of hearing, and dreadfully nearsighted as well.”

“Perfect,” Gideon commented with a swift grin. He moved lower on her body, cupping her breasts in his hands and kissing them softly. “I have meetings this morning. But I would like to escort you and Mrs. Smedley somewhere this afternoon… out for fruit ices?”

“Yes, and perhaps a panorama show.” Her skin became flushed beneath his ministrations, her nipples contracting as he painted them with the moisture of his mouth. “Gideon…”

“Although,” he murmured, “the view at the panorama won’t begin to compare with this one.”

“It’s nearly sunrise,” she protested, wriggling beneath him. “I must leave.”

“You’d better pray that Mrs. Smedley sleeps late this morning,” he said, ignoring her protests.

Much later in the day, Gideon proved to be the most entertaining companion imaginable, especially to Mrs. Smedley, who resembled an imperious hen in her brown silk gown and her feathered headdress. Peering at Gideon through the inch-thick lenses of her spectacles, Mrs. Smedley could not see him well enough to be impressed by his dazzling handsomeness. And the fact that he was an American was not in his favor, as the chaperone was deeply suspicious of foreigners.

However, Gideon eventually won her over with sheer persistence. After he had purchased the best seats at the panorama, which featured views of Naples and Constantinople, he sat beside Mrs. Smedley and patiently shouted descriptions into the massive ear horn clasped against the side of her head. During intermission, he went back and forth numerous times to procure refreshments for her. After the panorama, as they rode through Hyde Park, Gideon listened humbly to Mrs. Smedley’s booming lecture on the evils of tobacco use. His meek admission that he did at times enjoy an occasional cigar sent Mrs. Smedley into an ecstasy of disapproval, allowing her to continue with new vigor. How disagreeable, how corruptive tobacco was… and sitting in smoking rooms would expose him to vulgarity and obscene language, a fact that did not seem to perturb him nearly as much as it should have.

Seeing what a splendid time Mrs. Smedley was having in admonishing Gideon, Livia found an irrepressible grin breaking out, time and time again. Every now and then his gaze would meet with hers, and his smiling blue eyes held an expression that made her breath catch.

Finally the lecture on tobacco was diverted to the subject of etiquette, and then into the more sensitive area of courtship, which had Livia wincing even as Gideon seemed to be highly entertained by Mrs. Smedley’s pronouncements.

“…one should never marry someone who is similar in form, temperament and appearance to himself,” the chaperone counseled them both. “A dark-haired gentleman, for example, should not marry a brunette, nor should a corpulent man marry an
over endowed girl. The warm-hearted should unite with the cold-blooded, the nervous should be paired with the stoic, and the passionate should marry the cerebral.”

“Then it is not advisable for two passionate individuals to wed?” Although Gideon was not looking at Livia, he somehow managed to avoid the kick she aimed at the front of his shin. Her foot connected harmlessly with a lacquered panel.

“No, indeed,” was the emphatic reply. “Just think of the excitable natures of the children!”

“Terrifying,” Gideon said, raising his brows mockingly at Livia.

“And societal position is most significant,” Mrs. Smedley said. “Only those of equal situation should marry… or if there be inequity, the husband should be superior to his bride. It is impossible for a woman to esteem a man who is below her station.”

Livia tensed suddenly, while Gideon fell silent. She did not have to look at him to know that he was thinking of McKenna and Aline.

“Will I have an opportunity to see McKenna in London?” she asked Gideon, while Mrs. Smedley kept on orating, oblivious to the fact that she wasn’t being listened to.

Gideon nodded. “Tomorrow night, if you will do me the honor of accompanying me to the theater.”

“Yes, I would like that.” She paused before asking in a low tone, “Has McKenna mentioned my sister to you of late?”

He hesitated, and gave her a wary glance. “Yes.”

“Has he given you any indication of the nature of his feelings for her?”

“One could say that,” Gideon replied dryly. “He’s quite bitter — and keenly desirous of revenge. The wounds she dealt him long ago were so deep as to be nearly lethal.”

Livia felt a rush of hope followed closely by despair. “None of that was her fault,” she said. “But she’ll never bring herself to explain what happened, or why she behaved as she did.”

Gideon stared at her intently. “Tell me.”

“I can’t,” Livia said unhappily. “I promised my sister that I would never reveal her secrets. Once such a promise was made to me by a friend, and then she broke her word, and it caused me a great deal of pain. I could never betray Aline that way.” Unable to read his expression, she frowned apologetically. “I know that you must fault me for remaining silent, but—”

“That’s not what I’m thinking.”

“Then what
are
you thinking?”

“That everything I learn about you makes me love you more.”

Livia stopped breathing for a second, stunned by the admission. It took a long time for her to speak. “Gideon…”

“You don’t have to say it back,” he murmured. “For once, I want to have the pleasure of loving someone without asking for anything in return.”

There were two kinds of theater-goers — those who actually went to enjoy the play, and then the great majority who went for purely social reasons. The theater was a place to be seen, exchange gossip, and carry on flirtations. Seated in a box along with Gideon Shaw, McKenna, Mrs. Smedley, and two other couples, Livia soon gave up all attempts to hear what was taking place onstage, as most of the audience had elected to talk through the entire performance. Instead she sat back and watched the parade of men and women who came by their box. It was remarkable, the amount of attention that two wealthy American industrialists could attract.

Gideon was an expert at social banter, appearing relaxed and smiling as he chatted with the visitors. McKenna, on the other hand, was far more reserved, making few remarks, and choosing his words with care. Dressed in a formal scheme of black and white, he was the perfect dark foil for Gideon’s golden elegance. Livia was more than a little intimidated by McKenna, and awed that Aline held a man like this in her thrall.

As Gideon went to fetch her a glass of lemonade for her, and a cordial for Mrs. Smedley, Livia had the opportunity to speak with McKenna more or less privately, as her chaperone was deaf as a post. McKenna was polite and a bit distant, certainly seeming far from needing anyone’s sympathy, and yet Livia couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. Despite McKenna’s invulnerable facade, she saw signs of fatigue in his swarthy face, and shadows beneath his eyes that bespoke many sleepless nights. She knew how terrible it was to love someone that you couldn’t have — and it was even worse for McKenna, because he would never know why Aline had rejected him. As Livia’s guilty conscience reminded her of the part she had played in causing McKenna to be sent away from Stony Cross all those years ago, she felt herself turn red. To her consternation, McKenna noticed the telltale blush.

“My lady,” he murmured, “does my company disturb you for some reason?”

“No,” she said swiftly.

McKenna held her gaze as he replied gently. “I think it does. I will find another place from which to view the play, if it would ease your discomfort.”

As Livia stared into his weary blue-green eyes, she remembered the dashing boy he had once been, and she thought of the apology she had wanted to make for a dozen years. Agitation filled her as she considered the promise she had made to Aline — but that promise had been never to talk about the scars. She hadn’t promised not to talk about their father’s manipulations.