Then Came You (42 page)

“Oh, do show him in,” Lily said to Burton, and threw Alex an apologetic smile. “I forgot to mention that Derek intended to call this morning. He wanted to allow us a few days of privacy before he came to see Nicole.”

Frowning slightly, Alex stood up from the sofa, while Nicole went to chase the baleful cat, Tom, around the room. Whenever the poor animal settled in a patch of sunlight, Nicole was drawn to the inviting flick of his tail. Lily gathered some of the toys that were scattered across the parlor floor. She thought with a rueful smile that Alex had bought too many toys, a multitude that would have overwhelmed any child. The sight of the pitiful knot of rags that served as Nicole’s doll had been too much for him. He hadn’t rested until he had bought every kind of doll available at the Burlington Arcade shop…dolls with real hair and porcelain teeth, dolls made of wax and china, complete with their own tiny trunks and trousseaus. The nursery upstairs was crammed full of toy theatres, a rocking horse, a grand doll house, balls, musical boxes, and to Lily’s dismay, a painted drum that could be heard throughout the mansion.

It had not taken long for them to discover Nicole’s disconcerting habit of playing hide-and-seek, spontaneously disappearing and then grinning at their anxious faces when she was found beneath a sofa or end table. Lily had never encountered a child who could move so stealthily. Alex would sit down at his desk in the library and work for an hour, and discover that at some point she had quietly crept underneath his chair.

Gradually Lily’s fears that Nicole might have been abused in Giuseppe’s care subsided. Although she was a cautious child, she was not fearful, and in fact possessed a sunny nature. With each day that passed she became more vocal, and soon her enchanting giggles and ceaseless questions, spoken in garbled Italian and English, rang through the house. She developed a particular attachment to Henry, frequently demanding to be held by him, yanking at his thick blond locks and gurgling with laughter at his reproving frowns.

Derek came to the parlor, his green eyes falling upon Lily. She rushed to him with a pleased laugh, discomfiting him with a quick embrace. “Here now,” he said in a mock reproof. “Not with your husband looking on, gypsy.”

“What marvelous h’s,” she observed with a grin.

Derek moved forward and shook hands with Alex. “Good morning, milord,” he said, smiling sardonically. “Quite a day for me. I’m not usually received in such high-kick parlors.”

“You’re welcome any time,” Alex said pleasantly. “Since you were so hospitable in allowing me the use of your apartments.”

Derek grinned at that, while Lily turned crimson. “Alex,” she protested faintly, and jerked at Derek’s arm to divert him. “Mr. Craven, I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

Derek’s gaze settled on the little girl, who was standing next to the sofa. Nicole peered at him curiously. “Miss Nicole,” Derek murmured. Slowly he sank to his haunches and smiled at her. “Come say ‘ello to your Uncle Derek.”

Hesitantly Nicole started for him, then changed her mind and ran to Alex, clamping her arms around his leg. She gave Derek a bashful grin.

“She’s quite shy,” Lily said with a soft laugh. “And she has a decided attachment for blond men.”

“No luck for me there,” Derek said ruefully, fingering his dark locks. He stood up and regarded Lily with an odd expression. “She’s beautiful, gypsy. Like her mother.”

Alex struggled to suppress a sharp twinge of jealousy. He reached down and smoothed Nicole’s hair, dislodging the huge pink bow that was tied on top of her head. He knew there was no reason to be jealous of Craven. Although Craven loved Lily, it was clear by his actions in the past that he would never be a threat to her marriage. Still, it would never be easy for Alex to stand by silently while another man looked at her that way.

He gritted his teeth in frustration. It would be easier to bear if he and Lily had resumed their marital relationship. The last time they had slept together was before he had found her alone with Giuseppe Gavazzi. Since that night, Lily had been completely absorbed in her child. A tiny bed had been moved into the room next to theirs. Several times each night Lily awakened to check on Nicole. He saw Lily’s outline in the darkness, hovering over the peacefully sleeping child, guarding her as if she feared her daughter would be spirited from the bed. The child was seldom out of Lily’s sight. Alex offered no objection, knowing that as time passed, Lily’s fears would gradually subside. And after all the emotional turmoil his wife had been through, Alex was hardly going to force himself on her…although it might soon come to that. He had never wanted anyone this much having her so near, seeing her soft and utterly happy, her skin and her hair so beautiful, her lips warm, smiling…Sternly he forced himself to stop thinking about her, feeling his body beginning to react to the stimulating images.

The truth was, he didn’t know what the hell Lily wanted. She seemed so content with the way things were. He was desperate to know if she needed him, if she loved him, but he remained stubbornly silent, deciding she could make the next move, and if it took a hundred years of silence, suffering, and celibacy, so be it. He cursed her every night as he retired to his solitary bed. When he fell asleep, he dreamed of her all night. Sighing grimly, he turned his attention back to the visitor.

“...I’m going to take my leave,” Derek was saying.

“No, you must stay to supper with us,” Lily protested.

Ignoring her pleas, Derek grinned at Alex. “Good day, milord. I wish you luck with these two. You’ll need it.”

‘“Thanks,” Alex replied dryly.

“I’ll see you out,” Lily said, accompanying Derek to the entrance hall.

As they stood alone in the doorway, Derek folded his hands over hers and gave her a brotherly peck on the forehead. “When are you coming back to Craven’s?” he demanded. “It isn’t the same without you.”

Lily lowered her eyes. “Alex and I will visit some evening.”

There was an awkward silence between them, while they each contemplated a multitude of words better left unspoken.

“So you have her back now,” Derek observe.

She nodded, gazing into his dark face. “Derek she said softly. “I never would have survived the last two years without you.” She knew they were saying good-bye to their friendship as it had been. There would never again be the conversations before the fire, the shared secrets and confidences, the odd relationship that had sustained them both in different ways. Impulsively she leaned up and kissed his cheek.

Derek flinched as she took her mouth away, as if the touch of her lips had hurt him. “Good-bye, gypsy,” he muttered, and left, striding rapidly to the carriage that awaited him.

The cat stared at Nicole with slitted eyes as she approached him with a winning smile. Reaching out slowly, she grasped his flicking tail. Hissing with annoyance, Tom whirled around and struck out with his paw, leaving a scratch on her hand.

Nicole’s mouth opened as she regarded him with surprise and hurt. She began to wail piteously. At the sound of her crying, Alex came to her swiftly, scooping her up as she ran toward him. He patted her back and jostled her comfortingly. “What happened, sweetheart? What is it?”

Still crying, Nicole showed him her hand.

“Did Tom scratch you?” he asked with soft concern.

“Yes,” she sobbed. “Naughty, naughty.”

“Let me see.” Alex scrutinized the faint pink line on the back of her hand. With a sympathetic sound, he kissed the tiny scratch to make it better. “Tom doesn’t like his tail pulled, sweetheart. When he comes back I’ll show you how to pet him, and he won’t scratch you ever again. Here, give me a hug, my brave girl.” Amid his light talk is soothing, Nicole promptly forgot about her scratch and beamed at him, her little arm clutched around his neck.

Silently Lily stood watching from the doorway, an ache of love gathering in her chest until it became painful. Unaware that he was being observed, Alex carried on a conversation with Nicole, setting her down and searching beneath the sofa for her misplaced doll. The sight made Lily smile. She hadn’t known until this moment if he would truly want to be a father to her child. She had no right to expect it. But she should have realized he had more than enough love to give both of them. He was not the kind of man who would blame an innocent child for her unfortunate beginnings. He had so much to teach her, she thought, about love and trust and wholehearted acceptance. She wanted a lifetime of being with him and giving him all the joy one man could possibly endure.

Out of the corner of her eye Lily saw a passing housemaid, and she beckoned discreetly. “Sally, please look after Nicole for a while. It’s time for her nap, so if you gathered up a doll or two and took her to the nursery…”

“Yes, mum,” the maid said with a smile. “A good little girl she is, mum.”

“She won’t be,” Lily replied wryly, “after a few years of Lord Raiford’s spoiling.”

Giggling softly, Sally went into the parlor and began to sort through some toys. “Mine!” Nicole cried, wriggling to be let down, and she went indignantly to rescue her dolls.

“My lord,” Lily said demurely, though inside she was filled with giddiness and anticipation. Alex looked at her questioningly. “I wondered if we might have a word in private?” Without waiting for an answer, she headed to the stairs and ascended them gracefully, her hand lightly touching the lacy iron balustrade at measured intervals. A frown worked between Alex’s tawny brows, and he followed her slowly.

When they reached the blue and white bedroom, Lily closed the door behind them and turned the key. Suddenly the silence became electric. Alex watched her but didn’t move, conscious of his body swelling and thickening, his skin turning hot and sensitive beneath his clothes. His breathing became shallow, and he strove to control it.

She came to him, and he felt the touch of her fingers on his vest, her movements deft and light as she unfastened the intricately curved buttons. The vest hung loose, and she moved to his cravat, unknotting the warm silk and pulling it free from his throat. Alex closed his eyes.

“I’ve neglected you terribly, haven’t I?” she whispered, starting on his shirt.

He was stiff and straining with arousal. He knew she could see the flush creeping over his skin. The touch of her breath sinking through his shirt to his chest nearly caused him to groan. “It doesn’t matter.” he managed to say.

“It matters very much.” She pulled his shirt from his trousers and slid her arms around his lean waist, rubbing her face against the rough hair on his chest. “It’s hardly the way to show my husband how much I love him.”

Suddenly his hands came up and closed around her wrist in an unconsciously brutal grip. “What?” he asked numbly.

Her dark eyes gleamed with emotion. “I love you, Alex.” She paused as she felt a tremor in his powerful hands. “I love you,” she repeated, her voice vibrant and warm. “I was afraid to say it until now. I thought you’d send me away once you knew about my daughter. Or worse, that your sense of honor would make you keep us, when you secretly wanted to be rid of us and the scandal we’d cause.”

“Be rid of you,” he repeated thickly. “No, Lily.” He let go of her hands and caught her face between his palms. “It would kill me to lose you. I want to be a father to Nicole. I want to be your husband. I’ve been dying slowly over the past days, wondering how to convince you that you need me ”

She laughed throatily, her eyes bright with tears of happiness. “You don’t need to convince me of that.”

He buried his mouth in her throat. “I’ve missed you…Lily, my love…”

Her breathless laugh dissolved into a moan. His body was hot and demanding against hers, his muscles taut beneath her palms as she caressed him. Hastily he undressed her, and stripped off his own clothes. She reclined on the bed as she watched him, wanting to cover herself but knowing that he took pleasure in the sight of her. Lowering himself to the bed, he pulled her smooth, naked body against his and cupped her buttocks in his hands, urging her hard against him. “Tell me again,” he muttered.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you, Alex.”

His hand slid deep between her thighs, while his mouth possessed her in a long kiss. She touched her tongue to his, and they slid together in a mingling of silken heat and fire. “Again…” he said, but this time all she could do was sigh brokenly and writhe in time to the invading push of his fingers. As she arched against him, the tips of her breasts dragged through the springy hair on his chest. He bent his head and wet her nipples with his tongue, stroking and circling until the rosy peaks ached exquisitely.

Turning her face, she pressed her lips to his shoulder, drawing in the scent and taste of his golden skin. Moving lower, she searched with her tongue until she found the flat, silken point of his nipple, and he groaned with pleasure. Inquisitively her fingers combed through the thick, inviting hair and over the tautly delineated muscle of his abdomen, following the narrow tracing of hair that led to a denser thatch. Her palm slid over him, lightly gripped the silken hardness, and she caressed him once, twice, before he moved, pulling back and spreading her wide, easing inside her soft body with a guttural moan.

Intoxicated by the sensation, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, urging him deep within her supple strength. Henudged upward, driving high and slow, lost in an intense enchantment. He pulled back and she grasped at him hungrily, using her legs to press him inside her once more. He repeated the movement, taking fierce delight in the way she worked to pull him back. The smooth, controlled motion drove her wild, and she felt herself sliding helplessly into a trembling state of madness, existing only to feel him pushing and thrusting, his back turning as hard as oak beneath her hands, his hips driving with relentless force until the torment ended with a soaring, shattering burst of pleasure.

Afterward she moved her fingertips idly over his face, tracing each beloved line, the texture of his shaven cheek, the lush crescents of his lashes. Filled with contentment, Alex took her hand and pressed his lips fervently to the delicate palm.