A Gentleman Says "I Do" (24 page)

Suddenly Iverson was desperate to hold her. And God help him, but he knew that before this night was over, he would have to comfort Catalina. He had to do it for Catalina and for himself.

Passion is the element in which we live; without it, we hardly vegetate.

—Lord Byron

She was inconsolable.

Catalina had done all she could to make her aunt comfortable, but there was no relief for her own anguish. She didn’t know if she would ever forgive herself for failing her aunt this evening. She brushed a lock of hair away from her aunt’s forehead and reached down and pressed a kiss to her soft, flushed cheek. Her aunt’s face was peaceful, though she breathed deeply and noisily.

Catalina had always tried so hard to hide her aunt’s recurring condition so no one would ever see her the way she was tonight. But she had not been there this time to safeguard her aunt’s state from the eyes and ears of others.

And merciful heaven! What rotten, punitive course of fate had chosen Iverson to be the one to bring her aunt home? After what she and her father had done to him and his brothers, Catalina was certain he was the last man who wanted to help her family.

Oh, but there was peaceful joy, too, joy that gladdened her heart and made it soar. The one man who claimed he wasn’t a gentleman had done the gentlemanly thing and seen her aunt home.

That he would help her aunt after all she and her father had done proved Iverson was not the cold, hardhearted man he often claimed to be. She hadn’t heard him leave but was certain he had rushed down the stairs and fled out the door as quickly as he could. She blew out a soft, rueful chuckle. He was probably halfway back to the party by now.

She couldn’t blame him. What man wanted to be saddled with a female who’d had too much to drink? Especially a lady he didn’t even know very well. But she was so thankful he had. Though he may not want or appreciate it, she would send him a note tomorrow, telling him once again how grateful she was that he came to her aunt’s rescue.

Catalina tiptoed out of her aunt’s bedchamber and quietly shut the door. When she turned toward her room, she saw Iverson standing in the shadowy corridor a few feet away.

Her heartbeat faltered, and her chest tightened. He hadn’t rushed out after all.

But why not?

Maybe he wanted to scold her for not going with her aunt tonight. Or perhaps he wanted to rant about her withholding the information about
A
Tale
of
Three
Gentlemen
. But no matter the reason he was still there, and while she welcomed the sight of him, she didn’t think she could take his onslaught of anger or disappointment or whatever he was feeling. She was too close to tears from having let her aunt down. Catalina hadn’t felt as fragile as she did right now since her mother died. She would give anything if she could run into his arms and be comforted. But Catalina knew she was the last person he wanted to hold.

She shored up her inner strength, and trying to sound in control of her emotions, said, “She’s asleep. I’m glad you’re still here. It gives me the opportunity to tell you again how grateful I am you left the party and brought her home.”

“You’ve thanked me enough, Catalina. I’ve become quite fond of your aunt. I wanted to help her.”

Unexpectedly, she felt an overwhelming need to explain to him. “I don’t know what got into her tonight. She hasn’t gone to a party without me all year. She knows she’s prone to drink too much, and I always leave parties early so I can get her home before she, before she—” Catalina bit down on her bottom lip. Suddenly, she just wanted him to go away so she could fall on her bed and cry. She tried to swallow the large lump in her throat, but it wouldn’t go down. “I just wasn’t up to going to a party tonight.”

“A headache?” he asked.

“No,” she admitted honestly. “I was fearful I would see you dancing with some beautiful young lady, and I couldn’t—” She wanted to say she couldn’t bear seeing him happy with other young ladies. “I’m sure you want to go. I’ll show you to the door.”

“I know where the door is, Catalina. If I wanted to leave, I would have been gone by the time you came out of your aunt’s room.”

She didn’t know how to take what he said. The huge lump in her throat seemed to grow larger and constrict her breathing.

“I need no more thanks and no more apologies from you,” he continued.

“Then why are you still here?”

“I need to be here with you.” Iverson stretched out his arms toward her. “Come here.”

Catalina knew there was no hope of ever winning Iverson’s love, but maybe he would consent to giving her one night of his loving. She then did what she had wanted to do several times in the past: she ran to Iverson. He caught her in his powerful arms and brought her up to his hard chest. Their lips met softly in a kiss so tender it was heavenly. It was as if he knew what a delicate hold she had on her emotions right now and was gently soothing her with kisses too sweet to describe with words.

Filled with love, Catalina threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly, hoping he would sense or know what she was feeling for him at that moment. She wanted to share with him all that bubbled inside her—disappointment in herself for not protecting her aunt, deep anguish because she had hurt him so greatly, anger because her father had not come home to help her—but she remained silent and kept all she was feeling to herself.

Catalina wanted to enjoy the pleasure of being in his arms once again. She sighed contentedly. This was where she wanted to be. This was what she wanted.

The longing and the passion between them was too intense for their embrace to stay tender for long. When their tongues touched, soft and sweet, the kiss deepened quickly. Iverson kissed her hungrily. Catalina accepted his eagerness.

Heated with the intensifying rush of desire, Catalina thrust her tongue into his mouth, impatient, desperate to taste him again. He moaned softly, deeply, in his throat, eager to yield to her demand to explore before taking his turn to kiss her in the same way. There was a desperate urgency in the way he held her tightly and plundered her mouth. His tongue swirled and skimmed along the lining of her lips. Heedless of the fact they stood in the middle of the corridor right outside her aunt’s room, Catalina matched his fierceness with her own hunger.

He dragged his lips away from hers and whispered, “I couldn’t get the thought of you out my mind, the taste of you from my lips, or the touch of you from my hands. You drive me to madness, Catalina.”

“Then you know how I have been feeling these past three days,” she answered.

He chuckled low in his throat. “You cannot possibly feel what I am feeling, for you are an innocent, and you have not yet experienced the full knowledge of lovemaking.”

“But I want to, Iverson, and I want to experience it with you.”

“You tempt me too much, Catalina. I am not used to denying myself whatever I want, but with you I always have to hold myself back.”

“Then don’t,” she pleaded. “Don’t tonight.”

“I did not come here to seduce you. In my heart, I truly do not want to seduce you like this, but my body keeps overpowering my mind.”

“I want to be with you. If you want to be with me, I am yours.”

“If I want you?” he asked huskily. “You do not have to ask that. I have wanted no one else since the first day I saw you.”

He brushed her moist lips with his, easing over them with the lightest contact. She opened her mouth, and his tongue thrust in quickly, deeply. His hand raked down her unbound breast to her waist, where he gently squeezed her before letting his hand graze the flare of her slim hip and back up to her breast again. Through the cotton of her night garment, his touch seared her to the bone, heightened her desire, and made her tremble. He fondled her breast with tenderness, yet he kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of her and demanded more.

When he raised his head and looked deeply into her eyes as if he were questioning her about a serious matter, she could see he was conflicted. She had no doubt he wanted to continue what they had started, but she also knew his sense of honor was playing havoc with his desire for her. She saw by the movement of his throat that he swallowed hard. He had told her he did not want to take her virtue from her.

His hand sailed down the column of her neck to the neckline of her white, long-sleeved gown, and he played with the hollow of her throat for a moment before pulling on the ribbon that held the bodice together. He untied the bow. With gentleness that touched her soul, he brushed the front panel of her gown aside and slid it off her shoulder. He gently kissed the crook of her neck and shoulder and then slipped his hand inside and cupped her bare breast.

Her breaths became shallow. She could not help but wonder if he was testing her, making sure she knew what she was consenting to, giving her time to back away, time to say no.

Catalina knew what she wanted. She was ready and willing.

He studied her for so long Catalina thought he was going to deny her, so she said, “Will you walk away from me tonight, or will you stay?”

“You are certain of your feelings?”

She heard his increased breathing, and hope surged within her. “I am.”

“Is your room the one with the light?”

“Yes,” she answered with a raspy voice, remembering she had lit the candle by the bed when she heard the first knock on the door. “My aunt and I are the only ones who sleep on this floor. She will not awaken for some time.”

“Not before dawn, for sure. I must be gone before the servants are up.”

His gaze stayed on hers. His hand continued to cup, caress, and knead her breast, sending wave after wave of pleasure spiraling down to that womanly part between her legs.

She held her breath, and her stomach tightened, willing his words to mean what she hoped. “You’ll stay?”

“You’re asking me to?”

He still wasn’t sure, and for some reason, that pleased her. He was leaving this decision totally in her hands. “Yes. Take me to my bed, and stay with me tonight.”

The first hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “The way I’m feeling right now, Catalina, nothing could make me leave you tonight until I have had you beneath me and had my fill of you.”

He reached down and hooked his arm under her knees and lifted her off the floor. Catalina’s heart soared. She curled her arms around his neck and breathed a shaky sigh of relief. When they stepped inside, he held her with one arm and quietly closed the door with the other.

“The key is in the lock,” she whispered, and then a second or two later, she heard it click.

He walked over to the bed and laid her down. The lone candle didn’t give off much light, but enough for her to see he kept his gaze on her as he shrugged out of his coat and dropped it to the floor. Catalina watched in awe as he untied his neckcloth, unwound it from his neck, and dropped it, too. His collar came next, and then he unbuttoned his waistcoat and rid himself of it. He stepped out of his wide-buckled shoes as he yanked his shirt from the waistband of his trousers. He pulled it over his head, letting it fall on top of the other clothing on the floor.

Catalina was mesmerized by Iverson’s disrobing. She’d never seen a man’s nude chest. She shivered with expectation as she looked at his gloriously masculine body with solid, well-defined muscles in his arms, chest, and down his torso. She couldn’t help but think it was a shame to cover all that beauty with clothing.

He unbuttoned his trousers with one hand as he walked toward her, letting the front panel fall open. With one easy motion, he sank onto the bed beside her and took her into his arms. She arched her back and lifted her face to his.

Their lips met and moved sensuously together. He kissed her softly, tenderly, longingly, and lovingly. He kissed her as if he treasured her, and Catalina melted against him. Her hands slid around the smooth, firm skin of his powerful body, and she clasped him to her. Her hands rubbed up and down the contours of his shoulders, back, and waist. She relished the way his skin felt to her and the way touching him made curls of desire swirl, dip, swing, and explode inside her.

Iverson lifted his head so he could kiss the outside corner of her eye. His kisses made a warm, moist path down her cheek, over to the hairline near her ear, where he drew in a deep breath and whispered, “My lovely Catalina.”

His lips then glided along the bone of her jaw and over her chin. He tortured her with sweet, little dewdrop kisses on her heated skin. With a confident hand, he pushed her nightgown off her shoulder and kissed his way down the crook of her neck and across the top of her shoulder, sending shivers of delight spinning rampantly all through her body.

He slipped the bodice of her night rail down her arm, exposing her breast. Her shallow breaths made her chest rise and fall rapidly. He cupped and kneaded the fullness of her breast with his strong, gentle hand. He found her puckered nipple and rolled it between his thumb and finger. She lifted her chest to him and his lips left her shoulder as his mouth covered the tight bud of her breast. The sensations made Catalina tremble and gasp with exquisite delight.

“I love the taste of your skin on my tongue.” His warm breath floated across her skin with each word he spoke, heating her even more. “I love feeling the weight of your beautiful breast in my hand. Firm, round, and unbelievably soft.”

She gasped with pleasure yet again as he pulled her nipple deeply into his mouth, sucking gently and making it feel full, tight, and deliciously achy.

“You please me with your soft sounds of enjoyment, Catalina.”

She circled his head with her arms and gently held him to her bosom. “You please me, Iverson, to the point I can’t be quiet, I can’t be still, I can’t—” She wanted to tell him she couldn’t live without him, but she knew he didn’t want to hear such endearing comments from her, so she finished by saying, “I can’t wait to find out what comes next.”

Iverson raised his head and looked into her eyes. “Your eagerness excites me. There is more. Much more.”

“Show me.”

He reached down and grabbed hold of the hem of her white gown and slowly pulled it up her legs, past her knees, her thighs. She swallowed hard when the most intimate part of her body was exposed to his gaze, but he didn’t stop. He kept sliding the gown upward past her abdomen, past her waist, to tickle over the peaks of her breasts. He then lifted her back from the pillows, and in one fluid, easy action, pulled the garment over her head, off her arms, and dropped it to the floor.