Part 18 (1/2)
He held her as she rocked against him, feeling her pain, her bitterness. He knew her stubborn pride would never have allowed her to expose herself to him otherwise. He'd just been given a glimpse into a part of her he'd never dreamed existed, a vulnerable part she hid deep within herself.
He ached inside. He ached in a way that had never happened before. ”Listen to me, Arabella. You're beautiful. Yes, you're different. But don't you see, that's the attraction. That's why when you walk into a room, there's scarcely a man who can take his eyes off you. You're like a brilliant, exotic flower.”
Her head was nestled into the notch between his neck and his shoulder. ”Don't say things you don't mean.”
Her contrariness made him want to smile. Even now, she argued with him. But that was a part of what drew him to her. But at least she'd stopped crying.
One corner of his mouth turned up. He dropped a brief kiss on her brow. ”Sweetheart, rest a.s.sured, I am not a man to say things to a lady that I don't mean.”
”For pity's sake,” she grumbled, ”stop calling me sweet -” All at once she pressed her fingertips to her lips. ”I don't feel very well.” She lurched from his arms to her knees beside the bed.
Justin was beside her in a heartbeat.
By now she lay sprawled on the floor. ”I think I'm going to be sick!” She raised stricken eyes to his.
”No, you're not,” he said firmly. ”Just take a long, deep breath and don't even think about it, much less say it*That's the way, sweetheart. A few more, just like that*” After a few moments, he ran a finger down her cheek. ”How are you feeling now?” he murmured. ”Can you rise?”
Her eyes widened in alarm. Vehemently she shook her head, still a little green. Justin s.h.i.+fted, propped his back against the bed, and eased her head into his lap.
Arabella winced. ”My head hurts,” she moaned.
”It's all these d.a.m.ned pins.” One by one, he removed the pins from her coiffure, dropping them in a pile by his side. When the last one slid from its berth, he threaded his fingers through the heavy ma.s.s, gently sifting the silken strands away from her scalp, the movement soothing and monotonous.
”Better?” he murmured.
”Yes. Thank you.” She lay against him listlessly. Her lips barely moved.
His belly tightened as he looked down. Her hair was incredibly long and soft, spilling over his legs and onto the floor, a glorious waterfall of gleaming red strands. Against his will, against all his better judgment, he felt his rod stiffen and swell. Desire struck, swift and merciless, an arrow in the loins. It seemed his body had a mind of its own. He held his breath when she s.h.i.+fted her head. Her brow furrowed, and she settled her cheek at the very top of one hard thigh. Sweet Jesus, now her mouth was perilously near the head of his*She sighed. Even through his trousers, he fancied he could feel her breath, warm and*He drew a shaky breath. With every second, he could feel himself pulsing*pulsing in time to his heart. Oh, Christ. Christ. This was altogether more temptation than he could handle.
”Arabella. Arabella, I need to get you into bed.” It slipped out unwittingly. He suppressed a groan.
”No. I don't want to, Justin. I can't move.”
”We must, Arabella. It would hardly do for me to be caught in your room come morning, now, would it? Here, I'll help you.”
”Everything's spinning.”
”I know, sweet. I've much experience in these things, remember?”
”Yes, I suppose you do, don't you? Will it go away soon?”
”Yes,” he lied. She'd never remember, he was certain.
She was limp as a wet rag, but he managed to get her on her feet. He made brisk work of the b.u.t.tons on the back of her gown and unlaced her corset, dropping both in a heap at her feet. She stood before him, clad only in her s.h.i.+ft.
”I need my nightgown,” she fretted.
”No, sweet, you don't. You can sleep as you are just this one night.” He'd tested his willpower as far as he could*or so he was convinced.
He turned her in his arms. The s.h.i.+ft she wore was no real barrier at all; she might just as well have been naked. Behind her, the candlelight glowed, revealing the lushly erotic outline of her body in stark relief. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were round as melons, deliciously full. The disks of her nipples thrust against the sheer silk, plump and dark. He wanted to rip away that d.a.m.ned s.h.i.+ft and bare her completely. He wanted to curl his tongue around and around her nipples, knowing she would taste like warm honey. Unable to resist, his gaze swept the length of her. He wondered vaguely if the dusky triangle between the juncture of her thighs was as red and curly as her hair.
”Come,” he said brusquely. ”Into bed with you.” He lifted her onto the mattress, whisked away her slippers and stockings, and drew the sheet up over her.
She immediately thrust it down to her waist. ”I'm hot,” she complained. ”And it feels strange without my nightgown.”
”You'll get used to it, Arabella. It's just for this one night.”
”I won't,” she pouted. ”Wouldn't you feel strange going to bed without your nights.h.i.+rt?”
”I don't sleep in a nights.h.i.+rt.”
”What do you sleep in, then?”
”Nothing.”
Her eyes rounded. She gaped. ”What?” she said faintly. ”You mean you
sleep*naked?” She said it as if it were a curse.
”Yes, dear,” he said blandly. ”I sleep naked.”
”Oh! That's wicked, Justin.”
He wanted to laugh at her censure. Somehow he couldn't.
Instead he sucked in a painful breath. He'd never put a woman to bed chastely in his life, yet he
just had. Oh, but wouldn't the bucks of the ton hoot if they knew!It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to battle the heated rush that sizzled in his loins. Neverbefore had he been so achingly aware of one woman. Never had he wanted a woman the way he wanted this one - the one woman he couldn't have! Was that the allure? Was it simply that she was the one woman who resisted him?
”Justin?”
”What, sweetheart?”
”You said you wouldn't tell anyone about McElroy. You won't, will you?”
”Of course not.”