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Authors: Victoria Dahl

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

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BOOK: It's Always Been You
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He hadn’t expected that the next time he saw Kate it would be across a crowded reception room. In fact, Aidan would’ve sworn it was the last place he’d wish to see her, with all these people standing between them, all these eyes who might see the need in his gaze. But now that he was here, he felt fascinated by the sight of her interacting with others.
She wore a dark amber dress that did nothing to add color to her cheeks, but the color was there. It flared brighter when she looked up to see him watching, and Aidan caught the curve of a secret smile as she turned away from him. She seemed to glow, and he realized with a sudden jolt of sorrow just how dim she had been, how little of her old shine she’d had.
She was shining now.
He dared to approach, knowing Penrose would follow. “Mrs. Hamilton,” he breathed as he bowed over her hand. He introduced Penrose, then stared as the two made polite chitchat. He wouldn’t normally bring his secretary to a dinner, but Penrose had been specifically invited. A dockmaster’s house was an odd mix of industry and society, it seemed.
When he’d found himself unexpectedly agreeing to a dinner in the Cain home, he’d sent a panicked letter to Kate. Lucy had asked him how he meant to fill his evening, and he’d been so beset by erotic images of Kate that he’d panicked and said he planned to do nothing at all. Luckily Kate had just been invited as well, and had sent him a note to that effect. So here they were, pretending the distance between them was natural, when all he wanted to do was put his hands to her skin.
But Kate seemed at ease. In fact, she was transformed. She flashed him another teasing smile, biting her bottom lip just before she turned away for an introduction to an older couple.
She was
flirting
with him, by God.
Yes, she was transformed. She was not young Katie, though. She’d become another creature altogether. Her flirtatiousness, her humor, was now buffered by the sharp edge of resiliency in her jaw. It was an enticing combination of hard and soft and he couldn’t stop thinking about exploring the contrasts.
“You watch her too closely,” a woman whispered at his shoulder. Aidan’s gut clenched with fear as he turned sharply to face Miss Cain.
“I’m sorry, Miss Cain. I didn’t catch that.”
She smiled gently. “Don’t yearn for her so. I’ve sat her next to you at the table. You’ll speak soon enough.”
“Miss Cain—”
“Come. It’s time for dinner. You may walk me in.”
He should say something, think of the perfect sentence that would persuade Lucy Cain that he had no interest in Kate beyond business. But the idea was so ridiculous that he could think of nothing. He walked her to her seat, his mind churning. But when he took his seat next to Kate, it hardly seemed to matter anymore.
She looked at him past her lashes, and his body immediately hardened, aroused by the glow of desire on her skin.
Aidan greeted the gentleman next to him, a man who spoke French and only a few words of English. At first, he assumed that Lucy had sat Aidan next to him out of courtesy. Then he noticed that the man seated next to Kate spoke Spanish, and Kate had not a word. Polite or not, Lucy had surrounded them in a bubble of privacy.
He spoke under his breath. “You’re stunning. I’m overcome.”
“Overcome? How so?”
Aidan watched the life shimmer off her skin and fought the need to press his lips to her mouth, her chest, the little hollow in her throat. “You humble me,” he said softly.
She looked up then, looked hard into his eyes, but any response was cut off by the server’s appearance with a bottle of wine. Kate lifted her glass to her mouth.
“Try not to get sauced again,” he murmured.
“Oh, that was your fault and you know it. Such a typical male ploy.”
He raised his eyebrows high in mock surprise. “You’re on to me, Mrs. Hamilton. Drink up.”
Her laughter sounded like a purr, and he spared a glance for the rest of the table, certain they must all be caught up in this seduction. But no one seemed to notice her beauty, her spark. It was just for him.
Kate turned to attempt a few words with the gentleman to her left, and Aidan’s eyes roamed to the far end of the table. Penrose was there, at Lucy Cain’s left hand, an unexpected honor for a gentleman’s secretary.
But Penrose looked surprisingly at ease. Indeed, he sported a smile that made him look younger than Aidan had ever seen. And Miss Cain . . . Miss Cain was now very obviously flirting with Penrose. Penrose!
A remarkable evening indeed.
Penrose’s transformation distracted him for a moment, and Aidan sat back in his chair to observe Kate’s friend. Miss Cain was attractive, red-haired and glowing with good health like a milkmaid fresh from the country. He could see why Penrose was fascinated—she laughed easily and often and her eyes sparked with intelligence. Her large bosom probably contributed something too.
Still, when Penrose began to laugh with a deep chortle, Aidan frowned in shock.
“What’s wrong?” Kate asked.
“Penrose . . . He’s laughing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“He’s probably intimidated by you. But Lucy seems quite taken with him.”
“I suppose.”
“Well, you’re too young to look so disapproving.”
“Me?” he asked, laughing. “I haven’t been young in years.”
“Don’t be silly,” she scolded. “You’re still a pup.”
Perhaps he was, now that Kate was back.
The entire dinner passed in laughter and ease. Later, he remembered little of the meal, only that Kate had enjoyed the fish course but hadn’t eaten much of the heavier meat dish. He did, however, clearly remember dessert. A sweet vanilla custard that she’d licked from her spoon like a pleased kitten finishing her last drops of milk. The sight had been a teasing reminder of the many, many delights they’d never gotten around to sharing. He intended to address the omissions.
When the meal was done, he helped Kate out of her seat and saw desire in her glance. Her pupils were dilated, her eyes black instead of brown.
His own lust held in tight check, he purposefully moved away as soon as she rose. Patience would reward him. He was sure of it. But his arrogance was cut down with such suddenness that the brutality of the blow stole his breath away.
“Mr. York,” a soft voice said from the corridor behind him. “What a surprise to see you here.”
For a moment, when he looked at the petite blond woman, he did not place her. Her face did not prompt even a quiver of recognition in his brain.
“I tried to catch your attention at dinner, but I never could,” she said with a smile that was patently false.
The smile did it. Now he knew her. He drew in a breath with such slow care that his head spun as he stepped into the corridor. “Lady Sarah. This is a surprise. What could possibly bring you to Hull?”
“My husband wished to stop and see an old friend before we move on to Bath. You remember my husband, Lord Quentin Meeks?” She gestured toward the man beside her, but he was already moving away, busily discussing railroad development with another gentleman. A good thing, as the only thing Aidan could recall about Lord Quentin was that his wife had laughed about him while Aidan took her. She’d crowed that her husband’s cock was half the size of Aidan’s and only a third as hard.
That was why Aidan had found it difficult to place her face. She’d only wanted it from behind that night, and he’d never contacted her again. Cuckolding another gentleman was one kind of cruelty. Joining in laughter about it was another.
“And you, Mr. York? What brings you here?”
He glanced past her toward the other guests. The men filed into the billiards room; the women strolled to the drawing room farther on. Kate was among them, but he thanked God he couldn’t see her. Or did that mean she still lingered in the dining room and would stumble upon them at any moment? He felt the blood leeching from his face, felt his head grow lighter.
“Shipping, of course,” he murmured, his lips numb as he spoke. “I have several investments here.”
He barely knew this woman whose eyes swept down him, but he had a terrible fear that their connection was visible to others. That a reminder of that night still clung to them, the foul threads visible now that they stood so close.
Aidan cleared his throat. “What a happy accident, to see you here so far from London.”
“Yes.” She watched him past her lashes just as Kate had done before. His panic turned to nausea and shame. What if Kate saw them? What if his past was revealed to her in all its ugliness?
Ridiculous, of course. Lady Sarah would say nothing to Kate. She would say nothing to anybody. How could she? He forced an easy smile and gave a bow. “I apologize for rushing away after such a fortuitous meeting, but I must catch Monsieur Blanc before he leaves or he will conveniently forget the deal we struck over wine earlier.”
“Oh,” she said, her smile slipping a bit. “Of course.”
“Please have a safe journey to Bath. And convey my well wishes to your husband.”
“I will.”
Aidan walked down the corridor as if he were determined but unconcerned. He pretended that a bead of sweat wasn’t snaking down his temple when he passed the drawing room and continued around the corner to the washroom at the end of the hall. But once there, he closed the door and leaned against it, hanging his head and letting his breath shudder out.
All these women he’d had . . . Kate wouldn’t understand that. How could she?
Heat washed over him with such force that his ears felt afire. In Kate’s bed, he’d forgotten his life for a moment. He’d forgotten how little he cared for himself and others. He was not the boy she’d loved, and he wasn’t a man she would love either, if she ever found out.
“She won’t,” he said aloud, trying to calm himself. These were not things one spoke of in polite company. This was not something a woman would tell another.
Aidan York has had me on my knees a dozen times over. What did you do with him?
“She won’t find out,” he said again, finding the strength to push away from the door. Leaning over the sink, he turned on the tap and let cold water fill his hands. That felt such a relief that he lowered his face into the pool he’d created and let the icy water numb his skin.
By the time he dried his face on a towel, he felt nearly normal, though he wished for a full bath, wished to wash away the last threads of shame that clung to him. But he was recovered enough to step into the hallway with an easy air. He did not even break into a sweat when he turned the corner and found Kate there, speaking with Lucy and adjusting her cloak around her shoulders.
“Ladies,” he said easily as he passed them. Kate gave only a polite smile. She was going home in the Cain carriage, so Aidan knew she would be safe. He would leave later so as not to arouse suspicion.
Earlier, he’d dreaded having to count down the minutes in the billiards room, but now he was simply relieved to have a sure escape from Lady Sarah. He proceeded straight to the corner of the room farthest from her husband and closest to the clock. Twenty minutes should suffice, and then he could lose himself with Kate again, and forget the tragedy he’d made of his life. He could be a young man again, instead of a hollowed out shell.
“There’s snow in your hair, poor thing,” Kate said as he slipped from the icy damp of the alley into the warm box of her kitchen. She reached for him to brush the snow away, and Aidan closed his eyes at the pleasure of being touched.
“I made some tea. I know how the cold affects you.”
Aidan growled at her coy smile. “Will you view me as weak forever? That day was ridiculously cold, and you were the only person mad enough to want to be outside.”
“So sensitive, Mr. York. Have I injured your pride?”
“Perhaps. I plan to take it out of your hide at a later date.”
Kate’s husky laugh sang through him. “You may try your best.”
“I will.”
Her hair gleamed dark in the lamplight, her skin glowed pale. She looked ethereal, ghostly. The thought sent a slow curl of discomfort turning in his gut. She
was
a ghost, but she’d somehow been sent back to him, nearly whole. He would not forget that.
When he trailed a finger along the edge of her jaw, she closed her eyes and smiled, as if she savored soft touch as much as he did. As he turned to hang his coat on a peg, Kate poured tea and added sugar. Silence grew between them, but it was nothing like the silence that always fell over him with other women. He had, after all, always chosen his lovers with the opposite of friendship in mind. Women who were as cold as they were hot. Women who cared nothing for his thoughts. But with Kate, it was as if he were a man at home. As if they’d told all their stories to each other and now needed nothing but silence.
There was no logic in that. They’d been strangers for ten years and lovers for only one night. But this ease between them was as real as it had ever been.
And yet she was another man’s wife.
He sipped the tea she handed him, trying to dislodge the terrible jealousy from his throat.
Kate set her hand to his chest. “I wanted to touch you tonight,” she whispered. “But I couldn’t.”
The heat of his jealousy was fanned by her admission, and Aidan lost any sense of ease. He set down the cup and framed her face in his hands so that he could kiss her. She opened for him as soon as his mouth touched hers, thank God. He was desperate for the taste of her, the sure knowledge that she was his. At this moment, she was his and no one else’s.
He deepened the kiss and her hands fisted into his waistcoat, as if she’d pull him tighter still. He understood. It did not matter how close they got, it wasn’t enough. It never had been.
“Come upstairs,” she urged, the words warm against his mouth. “Come to my bed.”
He need hear no more than that. Pulling away, he set his palm to her back and urged her toward the stairway, but she soon outpaced him and he found himself rushing to catch up.
He was not used to this new Kate yet, and Aidan was shocked when she simply reached for the fastenings of her dress as soon as she reached her bedroom. Fierce lust gripped him as he slipped off his jacket and loosened his cravat. She felt it too, this horrible, unending need to get closer, as if that could erase the distance of the past years.
He reached for the clasps at the back of her dress and as soon as it loosened she tugged it down. “My corset,” she urged, but he’d never planned to hesitate at all. His hands were already at the knots, tugging them free. Kate gasped as it finally opened, her ribs expanding against the chemise that stayed pressed to her body.
Her movements slowed as if the corset’s grip had made her panic, and now she was free to move with languid grace. She turned to him, meeting his eyes as she let down her hair. It tumbled around her shoulders, and his heart shook with the force of his pulse.
When her hands reached up to slide the straps of the shift from her shoulders, he sat down hard, thanking God that he actually hit the bed. She moved with such slow grace, inching the straps down and down till they finally caught at the crooks of her elbows, the shift barely clinging to her breasts.
Crossing her arms in a demure movement that tugged at his heart, she worked the shift farther. It dropped suddenly to catch at the curve of her hip.
Aidan sucked in a hard breath at the sight before him. Painful pleasure twisted inside his body, curling through his shaft until he was heavy and hard for her. She was a perfect picture, seductive and shy, her palms pressed to her breasts and her stomach smooth and white. He was almost thankful for her modesty. If she hadn’t covered her breasts, he definitely wouldn’t have noticed the curve of her waist that begged for the grip of his hands. He wouldn’t have even seen the adorable dip of her navel or the way her belly curved out just under it.
She shifted under his scrutiny and the thin fabric lost its hold, slithering to the floor. Aidan closed his eyes to savor the image that floated behind his lids. He just wanted a minute, one minute, to chisel it into his mind before it was gone forever. Those generous hips, soft and all his, the alabaster thighs, and that dark, dark triangle of curls, drawing his gaze and his soul.
He eased open his eyes to find her watching him through her lashes as if she were a student of coy seduction, but it was only shyness, he knew—she was still hiding behind her hands. That morning she hadn’t had time to anticipate, and neither had he.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, reaching for her elbows, drawing her to stand between his thighs. Reverently, unwilling to rush her, he kissed each of her knuckles, gently seducing her until her hands began to relax and fall away from her body.
“I know you’ve already seen me,” she whispered with a soft, nervous laugh. “And I guess I shouldn’t worry how I’ve changed. I hardly think you got so much as a peek when I was seventeen.”
“No,” he answered as he kissed a small circle around one areola. “Those times were a bit too hurried for this sort of . . . exploration. But I can assure you”—she whimpered as he traced his tongue around that circle—“that there’s never been another woman as beautiful as you.”
“That’s silly.” Her words were faint, shaky.
“No, it’s true.”
The last words she uttered before he sucked her nipple into his mouth were nearly inaudible, but he thought she said, “Thank you.” But words were superfluous now. By the time he laid her on the bed, all she offered were sighs and gasps.
Aidan discarded the rest of his clothing and joined her on the narrow mattress. It was too small for sleeping comfortably, but in that moment he was thrilled to be forced close. He lay on his side to face her, meeting her eyes as he touched her body. Her gaze grew solemn as he shaped her waist and hips, and before he could touch more of her, Kate twined her leg around his and pressed her hips to his.
Pleasure and need radiated outward from that spot, making his eyelids flutter as she dragged herself up. “Kate . . .” he murmured, but she slid higher until his cock notched itself to her opening.
“Please, Aidan,” she said. “Please just . . .”
What could he do but please her? He understood. It felt like years since he’d entered her this morning. Like the ghost of the years they’d spent apart.
So when he felt her leg tighten around his, Aidan pushed inside her. Just an inch. Just enough to feel her flesh squeeze him and her sigh whisper over his cheek.
“We don’t have to go so fast, love.”
“Yes, we do,” she insisted, so he pushed higher.
“Ah!” she cried. “Yes.”
Yes
. Of course, yes. She was right. There was no point in waiting. All they wanted was this. She tilted her hips on his next thrust, and then he was deep within her.
Aidan spread his fingers over her jaw, and she turned her head to catch his thumb between her teeth.
Her body was so hot around him, against him, her tongue like fire on his skin. It was so much pleasure that it hurt, and as he took her in slow, careful thrusts, Aidan realized he’d never done this. He’d never faced a woman like this as they made love. Never watched every flutter of her lashes. Never watched her mouth form each sigh against his skin.
And so here was another first with Kate. He hadn’t meant for them to lose their innocence that day. He hadn’t planned it. But their kisses had turned to touching, and she’d sighed so sweetly when he stroked her thigh. And then he’d touched the core of her body, and my God . . . The hot slickness of her. The slippery feel.
There,
he’d thought madly. That is where my body goes. Into that impossible heat and pleasure.
He’d heard talk, of course, but who could’ve imagined the utter perfection of it? Not him. Not in a million years.
But here was this perfect place again, inside Kate. He thrust harder, and watched her lips part on a moan.
Curving his body farther away from hers, he dragged his hand down her neck to her chest, lingering over her breasts to caress them until she moaned again. It was too much: watching and feeling and hearing and tasting. He would not last. He’d leave her wanting. That he couldn’t bear, so Aidan gritted his teeth and dragged his hand lower, until he could just press his thumb to that pearl of nerves at the top of her sex.
Her sex tightened, and they both hissed with pleasure. He wanted to feel her climax around his cock. Wanted her to spasm and shake as he had her.
“Aidan,” she whimpered, her fingers reaching for his shoulder to put her nails to his flesh. He needed to close his eyes if he was going to last, but he couldn’t look away from her. The skin around her eyes tightened, she bit her lip. Aidan rolled his hips and she keened.
Now,
he prayed silently.
Now. Please now, for me
.
He flicked his thumb faster, and she finally broke. Her tight face softened into wonder, she drew in an impossibly long breath, and then she sobbed. Her sex rippled around his shaft, and Aidan wanted to sob himself, but he was busy gritting his teeth and holding on. Just another moment, just one more second to watch pleasure soften her face to the innocence of that girl she’d been.
Then he finally slid his body free of her, and his own climax jerked through him with bittersweet pleasure. Bittersweet, because he wanted back inside her.
Kate slipped her arms around his ribs and squeezed him closer. He felt the slide of his seed against her skin.
“Aidan.” Her voice was thick with tears. “That is all I ever wanted.”
But his throat was too tight to tell her the same.
 
 
She’d risen to wash her body and Aidan’s as well. Then she’d damped the fire in the stove and dimmed the lamp until the light barely skimmed their bodies. Now she was back in Aidan’s arms, pressed tight against him in her small bed. It should’ve felt strange, tucked in so close to another person, but instead it felt lovely and right.
“I leave tomorrow,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’ve postponed as long as I can.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m so happy right now.”
Aidan’s smile turned time back ten years; he looked so sweet and young. Kate smiled back.
“Will you come with me?” he asked.
“You know I can’t.”
He settled his head deeper into the pillow. “I received a letter from my brother today.”
“Oh?”
“My sister is returning from her wedding trip, and my cousin’s ready to announce his betrothal. There will be a grand party, of course.”
“Of course,” she laughed.
“After London, I’ll have to return home or my mother will never forgive me.”
Kate slipped her fingers into his hair, remembering again how soft it was. “There’s no question you must go. Don’t say it as if you must apologize.”
“I want you to come to the party.”
“Aidan! Don’t be mad. That’s impossible.”
“Why?”
Kate shook her head and rolled to her back, feeling the edge of the mattress and the space that loomed beyond it. “Why even ask such a thing? My husband, my shop, my family . . .”
“Then what about London? Would you come to London? Just for a few days. I’ll leave the knocker off the door. No one will even know we’re there.”
“I can’t! Not right now. I’m still cultivating this business. I’m supporting myself.”
“I know,” he sighed, pulling her back to rest against him. “But I wish . . .”
She stroked his hair again, but at his next words, her hand froze.
“Perhaps . . . perhaps we could look into divorce.”
“Pardon?” she rasped, her heart shuddering beneath her breast.
“Your husband could be accused of desertion. He is never coming.”
She knew that better than he, but she couldn’t allow Aidan to even consider the insane idea of divorce. If he even mentioned it to someone, everything would become exposed. Her name. David’s death. This false life she’d built for herself. And whatever disaster Gerard had created. So she swallowed hard and dug deeper into her lie. “We no longer live as man and wife, but that hardly means he deserves to be shamed. He’s still worthy of respect and honor.”
BOOK: It's Always Been You
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