Not Always a Saint (18 page)

He smiled and ate the prawn. “You are a splendidly practical woman, Lady Romayne.” He speared another prawn and offered it to Jessie. Discussion died until all the prawns were gone.

After finishing the last one, Jessie licked butter from her lips, pleased to see Daniel's gaze riveted on the gesture. When she sipped her wine, he gave a small shake of the head, and asked, “How will you wish to spend your time, Jessie?”

She swallowed a bite of deliciously light cheese soufflé as she considered. “I'll probably have three or four households to manage, not to mention supervising estate work, and of course time with Beth and occasional work with the Sisters Foundation.” And possible future children, a delicious prospect she hugged to herself. She swallowed the last of her wine and held out her glass for more. “I foresee much enjoyable problem solving in the future.”

Daniel poured more wine for them both. “I don't think either of us will lack for occupation.” Rubbing his foot gently against hers, he lifted a platter with small collops of chicken in a wine and mushroom sauce and served them each a piece.

Feeling very domestic, Jessie added a spoonful of an egg and onion mixture that was pleasantly flavored with mustard. As she leaned forward to put some on Daniel's plate, her loose bodice fell forward.

Daniel swallowed hard. “Perhaps it's time to feed other appetites.”

She drank from her wineglass, then deliberately turned it and handed it to him so he could drink from the same place she had. “We have a few more dishes to sample.”

He sipped from her glass, his gaze holding hers. After he returned it, his hand not so accidentally brushed her breast. Her nipple tightened instantly and she mentally moved the end of dinner closer.

Flirting outrageously, they tasted the other dishes, all of which were excellent and rather light, so as not to weigh them down with too much food on their wedding night.

Suddenly impatient, Jessie rose. “I've been yearning to see if that bed upstairs is as comfortable as it looks. Catch me if you can!”

Laughing, she pivoted and headed out the door, across the foyer, and up the stairs. What woman wouldn't like to be chased by an irresistibly handsome new husband?

G
rinning, Daniel pursued his beautiful bride up the sweeping stairs, her brilliant skirts billowing behind her. She was
fast.
Not that he wanted to catch her too soon.

She grabbed the newel post at the top of the staircase and used it to swing swiftly to the right. As she raced down the corridor to their rooms, he followed, slamming the door shut behind him.

The Milton Manor staff had built up the fires and lit the lamps, turning the illumination down enough to create a perfect seduction chamber. Jessie darted behind one of the sitting room sofas, which was part of a conversational grouping in the middle of the room but made a good barricade.

“Stalking the wild bride!” she called gaily. Her face was flushed with exertion and her breasts rose and fell tantalizingly under her scarlet silk bodice.

Distracted, he wondered what she was wearing under that wonderfully shocking gown. Not much, he suspected. “Is this where I prove that the male of the species is bigger and stronger than the female and resistance is futile?”

“Not futile at all,” she purred, her striking eyes bright with pleasure. “Because the chase is part of the fun, my sober vicar husband!”

“Considering the amount of wine we drank, I don't think either of us is very sober just now.” He edged around the sofa like a prowling lion.

“It's important in these matters to find just the right balance between sobriety and recklessness,” she said in a firm, academic tone as she retreated step by step.

“And I am just reckless enough.” He put one hand on the back of the sofa and vaulted over, landing right in front of Jessie.

She skittered backward. “So am I, my lad!”

When she was out of his reach, she clasped her hands with exaggerated terror, her lithe body enhanced by the cascading silk. “I risk your wrath when you finally capture me! What dreadful things might you do to a poor innocent bride?”

He laughed. “I believe you as a wild bride. As an innocent bride, you're less convincing.”

“Oh?” She tried a little-girl pout while rolling her hips in blatant invitation.

“Try for Aphrodite, goddess of love.” He closed the distance between them again.

She whirled to escape, but this time he wasn't letting her go. He caught her around the waist and pulled her back against him. He gasped as she wriggled her lush, entrancing backside against his groin. Was it softly firm or firmly soft? No matter, it was definitely entrancing. He cupped her amazing breasts, thinking he'd never be able to let them go. “Surely we're ready for that bed?”

She arched back against him, voice choked as she said, “Perhaps . . . we are.”

He nuzzled his face into her hair and must have dislodged the only pins, because heavy dark coils tumbled free to fall silkily past his face and over her lovely shoulders. He closed his eyes, shaking with the force of the passion blazing through him. Through her. Binding them in a primal mating dance of seduction, possession, and delight.

He slid one arm under her knees, the other behind her back, and lifted her in his arms. “Now you can't run away,” he said as he moved into the bedroom.

“I shall kiss you senseless and then make my escape.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and proceeded to make good her threat.

She tasted of wine and warmth and infinite promise. He almost crashed into the door frame and barely managed to swerve away. Bruising his bride would dim the mood.

He ricocheted into the bed. He hadn't planned to drop her onto the broad mattress, but when he did, she bounced nicely. “Come here, big strong male of the species,” she said as she opened her arms. “I surrender to your masterful superiority!”

“You definitely have had enough wine if you're going to pretend males are superior.” He dragged off his coat and tossed it toward a chair, not caring where it landed. Knowing he'd not want to wrestle with boots on his wedding night, he'd worn light indoor shoes. He kicked them off, never taking his eyes from Jessie.

A maid had turned back the bedcovers during their meal and Jessie lay in a swirl of scarlet silk and shining dark hair, a blazing hot beauty framed by cool white linen. One of her black kid slippers had fallen off when he carried her, so he caught her other foot and freed it, sending the slipper in the general direction of his coat.

Having freed her foot, he decided to pay it due attention, massaging over toes and arch and up her ankle, his hand sliding over her black silk stocking. As he reached for the other foot, he said, “Your feet are as lovely as the rest of you.”

“That feels wonderful.” She wiggled her toes. “But my feet aren't small and dainty as a proper lady's feet should be.”

“Nonsense. They're shapely and strong. And ticklish,” he added when he ran a light finger under her left arch. She squeaked endearingly and pulled her foot back. “As a physician, I value strength and health. And you are a very healthy woman.”

She wiggled her toes again. “In the long run, health is more useful than beauty. I shall be an ugly but healthy old crone.”

“Never.” He ran his hand up her stockinged calf to the knee. “You have beauty in the bones and in the heart.” He pulled up her hem and undid the provocative garter tied just above her knee. “Black and red even here. Your friends are nothing if not thorough.” He was unable to resist stroking her inner thigh. The road to paradise.

With difficulty, he managed to say, “Being women of the world, surely they know that a man finds bare skin more beautiful than any gown.”

He peeled off the other garter and stocking and was about to join her on the bed, when she said, “The same is true of both sexes, Daniel. I want to see all of you.” She sat up, gazing at him with glowing eyes. “Please. Or I shall have to tear your clothing off. You are wearing far too much and I'm rather desperate to see your beautiful body.”

He suspected he was blushing. “Not beautiful like yours, but healthy.”

“
Very
healthy!” She gestured meaningfully at his straining trousers.

He was definitely blushing. “As you will, my lady, but I'm not all that interesting.”

“I'll be the judge of that.” She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed so that she was within touching distance.

His coat was already gone, and his cravat quickly followed. He unbuttoned his shirt and removed it more slowly, feeling self-conscious.

“You look very healthy, too, Dr. Daniel. Such lovely wide shoulders.” Jessie leaned forward to touch, running her palm from his shoulder through the dusting of fair hair down his chest until she reached the trouser edge. “Lots of lovely lean muscle.”

He sucked in his breath, feeling as if her palm had burned a path down his torso. “I'm glad you approve.”

“I do.” She grinned. “And you will become even more interesting as more of that fine hide of yours is revealed.”

Fair was fair, but he was finding an unexpected strain of modesty in himself. As he undid his fall, he said, “Usually I'm the one dealing with bare skin while doing surgery. This is different.”

“The change in roles will be good for you,” she said callously.

Her interested gaze wasn't enough to reduce his state of arousal, but it was somewhat daunting, particularly when she frowned. Before he could dive for cover, she said, “What's this scar? It looks like it might have been made by a knife.” She traced the curving line across his left hip.

“I was slashed by a drunken patient who thought I was a Barbary pirate or some such,” he explained. “It wasn't serious.”

She frowned. “I hope you'll check for weapons in the future. I have a vested interest in seeing that you maintain your present state of health.”

“I'm in favor of that also,” he assured her.

He stepped back to remove trousers and drawers, thinking it was a good thing the fires were lit to keep the room warm. “Now your turn, my lady! I've been entranced by the front lacing on your gown since you swept down the stairs.”

She gave him a long, slow smile. “Then it's time you did something about it.”

“The pearls on the ends of the laces are a particularly nice touch.” He stepped in front of her where she perched on the edge of the bed and tugged at the black silk cords. “An invitation to pull.”

When he loosened the laces, her bodice opened up in a long V all the way to her waist. “Good heavens, you really don't have anything underneath!” Except warm, silky skin that begged to be licked, and the most perfect full breasts he'd ever imagined.

“The stockings and garters are all I have in the way of undergarments,” she said breathlessly as he bent his head to her left breast.

As his mouth closed over her nipple, he skimmed his right hand up her left leg under the layers of scarlet satin and found nothing but soft, smooth skin. He thought that his heart would stop, except that like Jessie, he had rude health on his side.

“My heart is going to give out before this night is over,” he gasped as he forced himself away from her. “But what a wonderful way to go!”

“Please don't die on me, Daniel,” she said, her great eyes suddenly serious. “I need you alive and well.”

She did need him alive and well—the protection he offered was the basis of her accepting him. The thought was the smallest of shadows, of no importance on this night. Now was not the time to share his doctor's knowledge that life was uncertain and ultimately fatal. Better to draw on the minister's faith. “I shall do my best to maintain the good health of both of us. In fact, it's time I gave you a thorough physical exam.”

He put his hands around her waist and pulled her to her feet. She came laughing, her gown half off of her. It wasn't much effort to loosen the bodice enough to slide it over her shoulders and hips. The gown fell to the floor in a whisper of silk to pool around her ankles.

“You look extremely healthy,” he whispered as he followed the fabric down with his lips.

She swayed and clutched his shoulders. “Now.
Now
it's time for the bed!”

Agreeing, he wordlessly lifted her in his arms and laid her on the mattress, then stretched out beside her. Though he intended to take his time, she pulled him to her with harsh urgency. “I want you so much, Daniel,” she whispered as she grasped him with ultimate intimacy and urged him between her legs.

“Soon, my lady. Soon.” He wanted something more than swift, mindless coupling this time, so he took exquisite moments to explore the moist, heated secrets of her hidden places. She moaned softly, her fingers curling into his back, taking him higher and higher.

When he could bear it no longer, he sank into her with a long, ragged exhalation. He'd thought nothing could match the mad rapture on the coach ride earlier, but he'd been wrong. Joining now was all that and more as they lay skin-to-skin, finding a rhythm together with accelerating need.

He wanted to make this mating last forever, or at least longer, but that goal splintered under the hammer of urgency. “Daniel,” she said hoarsely.
“Daniel!”

Her nails bit into him as she raged to culmination, taking him with her. He closed his eyes and surrendered to rapture. When he'd first seen Jessie, he'd thought reality could never match his mad yearning.

He'd been wrong.

 

 

As they lay exhausted in each other's arms, Jessie gave a small, silent thanks to the servants who'd built the fires that warmed these rooms. Even so simple an effort as pulling up a blanket seemed too great. The combination of wine, food, warmth, and incredible sensual satisfaction had left her drifting in hazy contentment.

Daniel stirred a little to pull her closer, his hand stroking tenderly down her back. “That was worth waiting for.”

She breathed laughter on his shoulder. “Indeed.” She felt very, very close to her new husband, and that was even more valuable than the incredible pleasure of their coupling. Even more than passion, emotional closeness could bind two very different people together into a real marriage.

“You're not like any vicar I've ever known,” she mused as she admired his strong, regular profile. “I probably should have asked this earlier, but what part does your faith play in your life? Do you have any ambitions to someday work full-time for the Church, perhaps take on a parish? I don't think I'd make a good vicar's wife.”

“That's not for me,” he said. “Faith is a strange thing. I was born with it, like having blue eyes and fair hair. I've not always been on good terms with God, but I've never stopped believing. What I didn't inherit was a need to make others believe exactly as I do.”

She smiled crookedly. “Which is why you're so very different from my father. He required absolute adherence to his beliefs from everyone around him.”

“That's an excellent way to drive people from the Church,” Daniel said dryly. “My faith would have stayed a quiet, private part of me, but since my parents were horrified with the idea of my becoming a surgeon, studying for the Church was a good compromise. Either way, I'd be helping people.”

“In very different ways,” she observed.

“True, but there are similarities.” His hand came to rest warmly on her breast. “Both medicine and ministering require the ability to listen. To hear both what is said and what isn't said. When I chose to study medicine full-time, I was near enough being ordained that it seemed worth going all the way. Several times a year, I'll travel to some remote area that lacks doctors to perform surgery and provide other treatments. Sometimes it proves useful to be able to marry people.”