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Authors: Victoria Dahl

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

It's Always Been You (12 page)

BOOK: It's Always Been You
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“Oh,” was all she could say. Aidan held motionless against her, and now he was the one whose panting filled the room. “Oh,” she sighed again, “Aidan.”
He slid his hands up to curve around her ribcage and then up to cup her breasts. Her moan turned into a sharp cry when he lightly pinched her nipples, sending a bolt down through to the core of her. She felt her passage tighten around him, felt his pleasure at this when he pushed even deeper.
She squeezed her thighs as he pulled back, gliding out and out until her body held only the tip of him. His hands fell to grip her hips and he pushed in again in one strong motion, sending waves of satisfaction through her belly.
“God, Kate,” he ground out as he found a long, slow rhythm.
Her body registered so many things at once: the heat of his skin against her thighs, the pale play of light over their bodies, the musky scent of their sex.
She moaned and threw her head back, lost in the way he filled her up and set her free at the same time. It felt good. Better than anything she’d felt ten years before. It felt perfect, and she knew then that she’d never regret this.
His strokes quickened. His fingers tightened on her hips. Yes, she thought. Yes, she wanted to make him shake and shatter just as she had. Kate drew her knees higher and felt him settle into that last tiny space between them.
“Ah, Christ,” he moaned. He took her faster, harder, and Kate found herself crying out when he shouted his release. He slid from her body as his muscles jerked, and his seed splashed hot against her belly as he climaxed.
She covered his hands with her own, weaving her fingers between his and holding tight.
“Katie,” he rasped, bowing his head as he tried to catch his breath.
She found herself smiling stupidly up at him, unable to control her joy.
When Aidan opened his eyes, his expression slid from fierceness to surprise, then he met her smile with one of his own. “Well, then.”
A giddy laugh rose up and danced from her throat. “I had no idea, Aidan. I don’t remember it being so . . .” She shook her head in wonder.
“I daresay it was nothing like that before. I was very young and very nervous.”
“Um,” she sighed happily. Her limbs were weighted, heavy with weary satisfaction.
“I’d lie down with you and cover you with kisses, but I don’t think there’s room in this bed.”
“I don’t need more kisses,” she sighed.
He raised an incredulous eyebrow.
She could only laugh. “I’ve had everything I need, and we can’t afford to lie abed regardless. The day is starting.”
His smile turned tender. His eyes warmed. “Yes, it’s just begun.” Aidan rose, and rinsed out the cloth he’d used to dry her tears the night before. While he dressed, Kate washed herself, conscious of the strangeness of their shared space. And all she could think was one word:
mine
. He’s mine again.
Foolish. And ridiculous. And not even true. But still, she told it to herself like a secret no one else could know.
He is mine again. For this day at least. He’s mine.
She drew her chemise over her head and then simply sat there. She didn’t move. She couldn’t. She listened to the thump from her parlor as he tugged his boots on, then the rustle of fabric as he donned his coat. A short while later, he stepped back into the bedroom and even the black silk of his cravat was respectably arranged.
He smiled at her, running a hand through his mussed hair.
“You look no different,” she said, marveling at that. She felt like a different person altogether.
“Then you’ve the eyes of a fool, Kate,” he said quietly.
Her heart stopped. And when she looked again, he was right. She saw sorrow and joy in his eyes, mixed together and turning into the depths of him. She saw his soul unshuttered, and she wondered if he could see the same in her.
“Will you come again tonight?”
“More foolishness,” he said, tempering the words with a smile. “I planned to wander the alley like a ghost if you didn’t invite me in.”
“Ah,” she said, “wailing and gnashing your teeth?”
“Yes, and rending my garments just in case you unbarred the door.” He kissed the laughter from her lips and offered a gallant bow. “I’ll show myself out the back door, shall I?”
“You make it sound so sordid.”
His smile slipped away. “No,” he said quietly. “Never that. Not with you.”
She listened closely to the slow clomp of his boots on the steps and caught the strain of a cheerfully whistled tune as the door opened and closed. She should be worried that he’d be seen. She should feel guilty for what they’d done.
But she couldn’t summon up even a glimmer of regret.
What had seemed so simple in the morning grew into a mass of tangled anxieties in the afternoon.
First, Gulliver Wilson had arrived on a gust of cold, damp air. She’d unlocked the door three hours before and this was only the second time it had opened. The first visitor had been a kitchen boy sent out into the icy streets to pick up an order. A slow day, indeed.
Kate tried her best to smile. Would this day never end? “Mr. Wilson.”
“Mrs. Hamilton,” he intoned arrogantly. “I wish to speak to you on a serious matter.”
To speak
to
me, she noted derisively, not
with
me. She kept her mouth closed to avoid saying something she’d regret.
“It has come to my attention that you’ve been entertaining a certain strange gentleman without any sort of chaperone and with no care for your reputation.”
Kate’s face flushed with anger and worry. Had he seen Aidan sneaking from her home? “What do you mean?” she made herself ask calmly.
His whiskers quivered when he cleared his throat. “I saw a strange gentleman return you from a walk yesterday evening, madam.”
Thank God. Her worry burned away and set her anger free. “I can assure you, sir, that who I speak with on the street is absolutely none of your business.”
“Of course it is my business!”
An outraged laugh slipped from her throat. “How so?”
“I am a respected member of this community and I cannot countenance this type of behavior. I’ll not be able to offer you the prestige of my friendship if you continue to behave like a . . . a . . .”
“A what, sir?”
“A harlot!”
“Mr. Wilson.” Her clenched teeth muffled the words. “I believe you know where the door is. Please see yourself through it. And don’t bother returning.”
His square, fleshy face turned a rather gorgeous shade of purple as he struggled to speak, his mouth opening and closing several times before he found his tongue. “If your husband knew—”
“If my husband knew you’d called his wife a harlot, I assure you he’d teach you a lesson in manners. And that strange gentleman you mentioned is a friend of Mr. Hamilton’s, so I’d suggest you leave before he happens along and finds you insulting me.”
Gulliver Wilson’s eyes flicked briefly to the door, giving her a thrill of satisfaction. Those eyes were decidedly narrower when they returned to her. “You will not find the people of Hull quite as
exotic
as the residents of India. We expect our women to comport themselves with dignity.”
Fists clenched into tight balls, Kate tried to subdue her rage. She’d lived far too long with people telling her how to behave. She’d not do so again. “You are not in a position to ‘expect’ anything at all from me.” One more breath and she was slightly calmer. “And your tobacco is inferior and overpriced.”
His eyes nearly popped out of his head at that. “Regardless, as a respected member of this community it is my duty to warn you that your indiscretions will not be taken lightly.”
“Mr. Wilson, I grow weary of your insults.”
“Doxy,” he spat.
“Leave my shop now! And never return.”
Instead of leaving, he stepped closer. “James Fost is a friend of mine, madam, and you have treated him abominably.”
That took her aback. This was about Mr. Fost? Gulliver Wilson was trying to leverage his threats into a favor for a friend? She could understand that motivation, and she made herself relax.
“Mr. Fost and I have reached a peaceable agreement. Your threats are unnecessary.”
“You insulted him!” he countered.
“As you have insulted me, Mr. Wilson?”
His piglike eyes glowed with arrogant dislike, but he had stupidly revealed his hand to her. Kate retrieved her pen and bent back to her ledger as if her next words meant nothing to her. “If I hear one hint of one word that you have spread about my marriage or my friendships, I shall cut all ties to your Mr. Fost. And I shall explain to him why I’ve done so.”
Silence met her words. She scratched a few figures onto the paper.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he finally sputtered.
“I certainly would. And . . .” Kate remembered a tiny snippet of gossip she’d heard from Lucy. “I shall also make sure to pass on the rumors that your brother is in debtor’s prison because you were heartless enough to call in his debts.”
She looked up with the sweetest smile she could muster. Mr. Wilson had turned purple again.
“
And
that you have offered his wife a way to earn the money to release him. Isn’t that the tale, Mr. Wilson?”
“You . . . you . . .”
“Good day to you, sir,” she said. Miraculously, he turned on his heel and he went.
She looked back at her numbers and smiled. She had reason to. One of the most prominent households in town had begun to use her after bringing their coffee straight from London for the past ten years. And she’d recently begun receiving orders from country estates up the river Hull. Word was spreading.
She should have been elated. She was only mildly pleased. A few weeks ago, this measure of progress would have sustained her, comforted her. Not anymore. Now she had Aidan and tonight to think of. Tonight, which was so much of a risk, but she would take it.
Emotion surged through her, hot and icy. “I want him,” she murmured, just to feel the words on her tongue. “Again.” They felt awkward and foreign but left behind a tingling touch on her mouth.
She was surprised at how easy it had been. Granted, she’d had no experience as a girl, but youth and love had given her the advantage of unselfconsciousness. She’d simply thrown her body into him and assumed he could only find pleasure in that. He had. They both had.
But this time had been so very different. It had been a wonder of pleasures. Had it been different for him as well? She spent the next hour waiting on customers, sweeping the floors, and reliving their lovemaking a hundred times.
Every time the door swung open, her breath froze in her throat. And she laughed at herself each time it wasn’t Aidan.
But she didn’t laugh when the door opened to admit a stranger. Kate looked up from her table to see a tall, wiry man, dressed in a thick wool coat and a fur cap, as if he were traveling to Greenland instead of Hull. His face looked painfully thin in comparison to the width of the thick brown fur, and his nose was a knife blade of sharp bone.
He stomped his snowy boots on her floor. In that instant, she knew she did not like him.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“Yes. I’m looking for Mr. Hamilton.”
Kate tried not to feel fear as she stood. “Mr. Hamilton is not here right now. I am Mrs. Hamilton.”
“Ah.” His eyes narrowed, creasing into little slits as he looked her over. “I am Mr. Dalworth. I sent your husband a letter—”
“Mr. Hamilton is in India at the moment, sir. I received your letter, though I wasn’t sure what you meant by it.” As she spoke, he took a little book from his pocket and began writing in it.
My God, she was doomed to be surrounded by rude, despicable men today.
When he looked up and found her frowning, he grudgingly removed his hat. “I believe my letter was clear, madam. My client wishes to know more about your business.”
“And who is your client?”
“He does not mean to reveal himself until he’s assured that a partnership with your husband would be profitable.”
“And I’m sure I do not wish to reveal more about our business until I know to whom I’m addressing the information.”
He sneered at her words. “When will your husband return, madam?”
“He will not be here until spring, so I suggest you find a way to deal with me.”
He regarded her for a long moment before inclining his head. “I’m afraid I am prohibited from revealing my client’s name. He does not wish to upset his relationship with his current broker until and unless he is prepared to cease his dealings with him.”
Kate arched a haughty eyebrow. “I can understand that. As long as he understands that we will reach no agreement until I’ve received several samples of his crop.”
“Agreed,” he said, and they sat down to talk money.
But when he departed, he left Kate with an uneasy tension in her stomach. She’d witnessed many negotiations at David Gallow’s side. None of them had been quite so superficial or brief. Still, this was only the opening salvo, and the details would be hammered out later. She had no reason to feel such creeping dread.
She had everything she wanted right now, after all. Her work, her independence, and Aidan. The fear was just left over from her old life, and she’d banish it the moment she knew that Ceylon was behind her forever.
BOOK: It's Always Been You
9.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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