Intimate Deception (38 page)

Nothing was further from the truth. It was time to show him she was not satisfied merely holding hands or sharing a chaste and polite kiss. Time to show him she would never be content with a marriage that lacked physical intimacy. Time to find a release to the building desire that grew increasingly intolerable by the day. Time to end the self-imposed separation he foolishly thought would keep her safe.

She no longer worried that the
ton
would speculate that she’d gotten pregnant in order to trap Vincent into marrying her. Because she’d been carrying twins, and because of the tragedy that had occurred the day the twins were born, the babes’ early arrival hadn’t even been noticed. Now, no one would count months when they heard she was increasing again.

She smiled and opened the door to his room, not bothering to knock. Not bothering to give him warning.

She expected to find him in bed, but the covers were thrown back and the bed empty. He was obviously spending as restless a night as she.

She looked around the room. Her gaze found him staring out the window, his gaze locked onto the darkness, his
hands clasped behind his back. No wonder each morning he looked like he hadn’t slept the night before.

She wanted to laugh. At least tomorrow morning there would be a reason for his tired look.

Grace knew the minute he realized she was there. He turned and took one step toward her, then stopped. Concern etched his features. “Grace? Is something wrong with the children?”

“No, Vincent. Edward and Hannah are fine. In fact, they are perfect.” She took a step closer and worried her lower lip to keep from smiling. “It’s me.”

“You?” Vincent crossed the distance that separated them in two anxious strides and clasped his hands around her upper arms. There was real fear in his eyes. “What’s the matter, Grace? Are you ill?”

“Not exactly,” she answered, trying to stop the shiver his touch caused. “It’s more an ache. And it won’t go away. In fact, it seems to be getting worse and worse.”

Deep worry lines crossed his forehead and Grace felt a momentary pang of guilt for worrying him so. She quickly brushed it aside.

He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, then pulled her closer to him. “Where do you hurt? Do you want me to send for the doctor?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m afraid a doctor can’t help me.”

He touched his fingers to her cheek, then his palm to her forehead. “You don’t seem to be fevered.”

“Oh, yes. I think I am.”

He felt her face again, then leaned his forehead to hers. The feel of him so close sent waves of molten heat spiraling to the pit of her stomach, then lower.

“Would you please hold me?”

“Of course,” he said eagerly. “Do you want to lie down?”

“Not yet.”

“Very well. Where does it hurt?”

Grace pulled at the belt around her waist and pushed her wrapper from her shoulders. “Here,” she said and lifted his hands to her breasts.

Vincent’s breath caught and he shuddered.

Grace heard his breath catch and considered the raspy sound of his breathing the first sign of surrender.

Vincent knew what she was doing. Knew what she intended would happen tonight. Bloody hell and damnation! Didn’t she know he couldn’t allow it? Didn’t she know the risk they’d be taking?

His heart skipped a beat and he fought to move away from her. But his feet refused to move. He could do nothing but stand there with her breasts nestled in the palms of his hands. Bloody hell! This was torture of the worst kind.

“Yes, Vincent. Touch me.”

“Ah, Grace…”

“Please. Hold me.”

Her voice was soft and held a pleading quality to it he couldn’t resist. The battle raged fiercely inside him, and his only victory seemed to be a compromise. Maybe he would just hold her. But he vowed he would do no more.

Vincent wrapped his arms around her and touched her soft, satiny skin. A thousand spirals of heat swirled in vicious circles all through his body. A molten whirlpool of desire
rushed deep in his gut and he grew uncomfortably heavy. He squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath.

He swore he would stand here for just a few moments, then let her go. Swore he would. But of their own volition, his hands moved in slow, gentle circles over her flesh.

“Yes, Vincent. Now lower.”

He drew his circles lower on her back.

“Lower yet, Vincent.”

His hands moved lower, and she sighed when he touched her. He was hot, hard, uncomfortable. He needed to stop. Needed to push her away from him. But he couldn’t.

Then Grace lifted her head and said, “Kiss me, Vincent. Please.”

And he was lost.

His mouth lowered to hers and his lips touched hers, tasting her, drinking from her. And she answered his kiss with the same desperation that surged through him.

He opened his mouth atop hers and met the boldness of her tongue as she came in search of him. They touched and parried and battled until neither of them could breathe. Then, with an agonized moan, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

Vincent knew he was lost. Knew if he looked down, his resolve to never make love to her would lie shattered at his feet.

“Ah, Grace…”

“Shh, Vincent. Just love me.”

He gasped a sharp intake of breath. The feel of her against him sent fiery heat spiraling low in his belly. Then she pressed a kiss against his flesh where his robe gaped open and it was nearly his undoing.

“Grace?” His voice sounded heavy and strained even to his own ears.

“Don’t talk, Vincent.”

She kissed him again, then rained kisses over his face and neck and chest. And all the time, her hands worked frantically at his flesh, touching him until he was on fire.

“I…we…” His back arched and his head dropped back on his shoulders. “Ah, hell.”

“No, Vincent. But I’ll promise you heaven.” Grace slipped his robe from his shoulders and let it puddle at her feet. Then she went willingly into his embrace.

His breathing was raspy and labored; his chest heaved as if he had to struggle to control his breathing. He couldn’t take much more of this. Couldn’t let this go much further. Yet he didn’t have the willpower to stop.

His breaths shuddered. If he didn’t want her so desperately he might have the power to push her away from him. But he wanted her too much.

He made the mistake of looking into her eyes and almost laughed at the raw desire that stared back at him. The same look he was sure he wore.

“Touch me, Vincent. Please.”

The moan that escaped him was rife with torture and agony, but Vincent wrapped his arms around her and held her as if he were desperate never to let her go.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he said, burying his face in her loose hair. “I swore I never would.” He gasped for more air. “Swore I’d never risk losing you again.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” she whispered, touching her lips to his flesh. “You’re going to love me.” She kissed him again. “And love me.”

She touched his cheek with her hand, then tilted her face and kissed him again.

He fought as valiantly as any warrior had ever fought, but lost the battle with every kiss. He knew he couldn’t hold off much longer.

“Love me, Vincent. Make love to me.”

He moaned as if calling on every ounce of willpower he possessed. But he knew it was futile. He’d waited so long. Dreamed of loving her so many nights.

On a heavy sigh he gave up the battle and stared at her with all his raw pain and fear exposed for her to see.

“You’re going to force me to risk it all, aren’t you?”

“I have to.”

She lifted her mouth and kissed him on the lips.

He moaned softly, then kissed her back. “I can’t fight this any longer.”

“You’re not supposed to fight it, Your Grace. You’re supposed to enjoy it.”

She kissed him again. Then again.

“Grace, I promised. I—”

She pressed her fingers atop his lips and stopped his words. “We’ll talk about your promises in the morning.”

“By then it will be too late,” he said on a gasp.

She smiled. “It’s already too late, darling. Now please. Love me.”

With a moan of resignation, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

Their lovemaking was a melding of passion and desire. Their need for a connection that bound them to each other was a beautiful culmination of love as it was intended to be.

After he floated back to earth, Vincent cradled her to him, marveling at the perfect feel of her in his arms. He stroked her flesh, then kissed each spot where his fingers had touched her.

“I love you, Grace,” Vincent said when his breathing had calmed.

“Almost as much as I love you,” she answered.

Vincent thought of the night she’d deceived him and smiled. He never thought her deception would turn out so perfectly.

He tucked her close beside him and lowered his mouth to meet hers. “I should have known it was impossible to fight you.”

She smiled as her hand cupped his cheek and rubbed her fingers across his jaw. “Impossible. From the first.”

She wrapped her arm around his neck and brought his mouth down to hers. The kiss they shared was a fusion of emotions neither of them could deny.

At last, his mind understood what his heart had known all along. That the love they shared was strong enough to conquer all his fears. Strong enough to endure a lifetime…and beyond.

L
aura Landon taught high school for ten years before leaving the classroom to open her own ice-cream shop. As much as she loved serving up sundaes and malts from behind the counter, she closed up shop after penning her first novel. Now she spends nearly every waking minute writing, guiding her heroes and heroines to happily ever after. She is the author of more than a dozen historical novels, and her books are enjoyed by readers around the world. She lives with her family in the rural Midwest, where she devotes what free time she has to volunteering in her community.