Shayla Black (34 page)

And Maddie found herself more confused than ever.

#

Within minutes, Maddie had retrieved her cloak and veiled bonnet and emerged from Ashdown Manor to a brisk, starry country night. Frogs croaked and crickets chirped as she made her way to Brock’s coach and the silent coachman, an older gentleman, who greeted her with a nod before he helped her into the vehicle.

Maddie endured the hour-long ride through clandestine darkness, her mind a tumble with all Aunt Edith had said.

Without a doubt, Maddie had missed the man. And against her better judgment, she cared for him. Some foolish part of her thrilled to the idea he might truly love her.

But marriage? A death-do-us-part union with an ambitious businessman who would gain what he wanted most the instant they spoke vows? What if he wanted nothing else of her for the next forty years?

The coach halted, and the coachman came round to help her down. After another silent nod, the older man adjusted his powered wig, climbed back up, and drove away.

In three hours, he would return for her. She knew that. Until then, she had to deal with the man inside the cottage.

Maddie gazed heavenward, as if the sight of twinkling stars in the soft midnight sky might impart their wisdom. Only the warm wind of the coming summer blew.

Sighing, Maddie looked about. Shin-high grass swayed with the breeze all about her—except directly before her, where the isolated cottage sat, awaiting her.

Brock was not likely to become easier, she told herself. Then she walked to the little house, where the dim light of a lamp or two illuminated only the front window.

When Maddie pushed the door open, she found Brock in the foyer inches away. Waiting. His expression said little, but he looked both lost and determined—unlike the businessman who had first stepped into her parlor roughly two months ago. Tonight was personal, his solemn expression told her. Did he, too, feel emotions that confused him? How could she resist if he touched her with desperate affection on his face?

Slowly, Brock tread a silent path to her and cradled her cheek with his warm palm, brushing her mouth with his thumb, Maddie resisted the urge to nuzzle into his touch.

“
It seems like a year since I last touched you.” His eyes held an aching expression that reached inside her and pulled the jumble of her feelings to the fore.

She stepped closer. “It does.”

His green eyes were soft, searching. Maddie felt as if she were falling deep into his gaze. The air hung thick with unspoken sentiment. Something inside of her—a part that had long wanted to be loved—responded to the silent whisper between them.

Lord, she felt dangerously close to falling in love with him all over again.

“
You look troubled. Whatever it is, forget it tonight.”

The offer tempted her. She could lose herself in the magic of his touch and cease worrying about her vulnerable heart until tomorrow. She knew, however, that a night in his arms would only increase her tumult—and her need.

Maddie tried to pull away from him. He placed his free hand on her other cheek and fused her stare to his. Maddie feared he could see straight into her soul. His stare asked for her nearness, soothed her confusion, made her want to melt into him and forget the world.

With eyes so gentle, he was impossible to resist.

Her surrender must have shown on her face, for he leaned toward her, into her, and placed a soft kiss on her mouth. They exchanged a brush of lips, a rush of breath. He feathered his fingers into her hair, and she leaned into his touch, silently asking for more.

He covered her mouth with his again. Still, she felt no demand, only a honey-sweet call that enveloped her senses.

Maddie tangled her fingers in his hair and drew him closer. Her senses reeled. Her mind emptied of everything but his heat, his touch, his taste. As he pressed soft kisses on her lips, she swayed closer, fully against him.

The moment felt perfect, their mute communication more expressive than a thousand words.

Slanting his lips across her, he kissed her once more, feasting on the inside of her mouth. Heat crept up her chest. Need rose steadily in her belly. He felt necessary to her, as if some too-trusting part of her never wanted to let him go.

Brock’s hands moved to her buttons at the back of her dress and eased them from their fastenings, one by one. As he slid the dress from her shoulders, his mouth was there, warming, reassuring. Maddie melted into the seductive stroke of his lips. Brock made her feel worshipped and wanted, heaven knew. He made her feel so desirable. With him, she was never cold or unresponsive. Maddie found that knowledge as heady as his touch.

When her dress hung about her waist, she reached out with damp palms to remove his cravat and coat. His mouth returned to hers, as if thanking her. He lingered over her lips, sampling her as if he had all the time in the world—as if nothing would ever come between them.

Tears stung Maddie’s eyes as she removed his coat and shirt. He divested her of her petticoats and corset in gentle strokes, touching each inch of skin he exposed along the way.

As she gazed at the bare, hard flesh of his arms and torso, her mind felt slow and heavy. Her chemise clung to her skin, pressing back against her swelling, sensitive breasts. When his fingers traced a slow path down a taut mound, Maddie felt as if he reached inside her, driving her arousal higher.

“
When you look at me like that, I want to drown in you for hours,” he murmured.

A rosy color crept up her skin. His confession sent her soaring. That he wanted her, that she affected him, all but made her glow. When he spoke like that, in that voice, she wanted the same. She wanted to feel them joined in passion.

Eager to touch him, Maddie lay her palm across his chest, over his heart, gratified by its strong, quick beat. What would she do without this, without him, when he had again gone from her life?

Her hand slipped lower, over his hard abdomen. He tensed at her touch, his gaze delving into her. She read his need, knew it was mirrored on her face.

Maddie slid her hand lower, her fingers drawing a teasing circle around the buttons of his breeches. Brock drew in a sharp breath as she unfastened the garment and slid them from his hips, along with his drawers, boots, and hose.

Naked he stood before her, his thick shaft straining. Maddie couldn’t deny that he was magnificent, body strong and carved, muscles and veins bulging—seemingly eager to make love to her.

Brock wasn’t content to stand still. He reached out to her, his fingers settling on the hem of her chemise and lifting it slowly. His greedy palms warmed her bared skin, tantalizing, arousing, reminding her of all that was to come.

When she was as naked as Eve, Brock took her by the hand and led her to the small, candlelit bedroom at the back of the house. The bed itself was lavish and large, leaving only enough room for a small washstand and an armoire in the corner.

His eyes never left hers as they sank together to the mattress, Maddie on top. He skimmed gentle fingers down her shoulders, her back. She shivered as he fanned the flames of her arousal. Long and slow, he took her mouth in a kiss that drugged her senses with pleasure. It was endless, bone-melting. It left little doubt he intended to devour her body in the same manner.

His palms whispered over her, sensitizing her to his touch. She curled into him, closer, and he claimed her with relentless hands. Maddie wondered if he, too, felt the deepening bond.

Brock rolled her onto her back and kissed a warm path down her neck to her breasts. Her nipples ached with wanting before he even touched them. When his tongue swirled around each of the swollen buds, they drew up hard and tight. She sighed. His exploration continued, unhurried and mind-dissolving. Brock’s hands soon joined the journey across her belly, hips, and thighs. He touched her everywhere, except where she needed him most.

Her sighs turned to moans. She felt dazed and damp and about to come undone.

“
I need...” She stopped, unable to do anything more than ache. “Please—”

To lend credence to her words, she reached between them and grabbed his rigid erection. She took it full in her palm and began to stroke him. He groaned, seeming to grow harder in her hand.

“
Maddie—” His voice was half warning, half praise.

“
Brock,” she moaned in return and spread her thighs beneath him, inviting him in.

He accepted the invitation, settling his hips in the cradle of her thighs and sinking into her slowly, smoothly. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment as he stretched her wide. Fluid desire filled her veins, and pleasure gathered and rose quickly.

He pushed deep with long strokes, one after the other. He did not hurry. Instead, he seemed to take pleasure in each lingering thrust he indulged in.

“
Maddie,” he groaned. “I can feel your desire when you move with me. Look at me. I want to see it in your eyes.”

She opened her eyes, lashes fluttering. His intense stare sucked her in. She drowned in the pool of desire and tenderness she saw shimmering there.

The truth hit her at that moment. Though she had denied it all she could, she loved him again.

Or perhaps she had never stopped.

Reeling from her insight into her own heart, Maddie arched up to him, needing to meet him, match him. Caught up in the sweetness of the moment, her love colored every touch, every kiss.

And he responded by bringing her closer, curling his body around her. His shoulders grew taut, arms bulging. His face grew tense. His fingers sank into her thighs, spreading them wider, telling her silently he did not merely want to be within her, but be a part of her. Maddie swore she could feel him in every inch of her body.

She soared toward ecstasy hard and fast. Perspiration broke out across her chest, his back. Brock grunted with every deep plunge inside her, until the edge of satisfaction teased her, seized her—overtook her. The force of her peak singed her every nerve. She clung to Brock, fingers clasped to his shoulders. She spread kisses along his mouth, his jaw, unraveling the tension that had held her in thrall.

Brock froze, shuddered, following her to orgasm with a hoarse cry.

The glow of fulfillment followed, and she wallowed in it, languorous and sated. What they had shared tonight had been so tender, so honest. They had bonded without words. They had crossed some bridge together—and there was no going back.

With a sigh, Maddie cuddled her head against the slick flesh of his hard chest and wondered what lay on this side of their path.

#

A giggle and a squeal brought Maddie out of a deep sleep three mornings later.

“
Mama!” was all the warning she received before Aimee launched herself on Maddie’s bed with a thump. Prying her eyes open to slits, Maddie peered at her daughter, blond hair askew about her face.

“
You asleeped too long,” Aimee teased.

“
Slept,” Maddie corrected, closing her eyes again.

Though Aimee said she had slept too long, Maddie felt as if she hadn’t slept enough. What was wrong with her? She had been feeling bone-tired for days.

“
Is it time for breakfast yet?” she croaked. “I’ll fix some if you’re hungry.”

“
No, silly. I already ate.”

Maddie nodded, making a mental note to thank Aunt Edith or Vema, whomever was responsible for the good deed.

“
Giddy up!” Aimee shouted, then giggled.

“
No—”

The protest came too late. Aimee straddled Maddie’s torso, bouncing her thin little backside on her mother’s stomach. The experience was not a pleasant one. Nausea rose, climbing up into her throat.

The feeling only worsened when Aimee slapped her hands down on Maddie’s chest, a bit too close to her tender breasts.

“
Ouch!” Maddie grabbed Aimee’s wrists and moved them.

Sore breasts were a common symptom of her monthly flow, but blast, she wished her menses would hurry up. Her breasts and her back had really hurt all day yesterday.

Her daughter bucked on Maddie’s tummy again. The nausea swelled once more.

“
Aimee, no. Sweeting, I’m not feeling unwell.”

“
You’re ill, Mama?”

“
Ill?” she recognized Aunt Edith’s voice from across the room.

Maddie opened her eyes in time to see Edith shoo the rambunctious girl from her stomach until she sat on the mattress nearby. Reaching out to the girl, Maddie curled her arm around her little waist. Aimee laid her head on Maddie’s shoulder.

Smiling, she assured, “I will recover, I’m certain.”

Aimee nodded, her little face looking concerned.

Edith frowned. “You will recover, but not today, it appears. A pity, really. The village has a lovely summer festival planned, Mrs. Goddard told me yesterday.”

Maddie gave a moan of regret. But she simply wasn’t up to celebrating summer—or any season at the moment. She groaned.