Rebecca Hagan Lee (35 page)

James winced. In the time he’d known her he’d compromised Elizabeth far worse than Samuel Wright had done. But Samuel had felt honor-bound to offer Elizabeth marriage. Not once, but twice. “Because you were compromised, or because you refused Wright’s gentlemanly offer?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “Either way, the price was too high.” She studied James’s profile in the faint light moonlight. “What about you? What made you leave Hong Kong?”

“I had my reasons,” he answered in an echo of the words she’d given him the first time she met the Treasures.

Elizabeth frowned at him.

“All right,” he said. “Finish your sandwich and I’ll tell you.”

Elizabeth did as he told her, polishing off the rest of the food in three bites.

James smiled. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

She blotted her lips with the napkin, then shook her head. “Now, tell me what brought you to California.”

“A ship,” James teased, walking back to sit on the end of Elizabeth’s chaise longue.

“Why?” she asked. “Why did you leave your home and family to come here?”

“Too many memories,” he admitted at last. “There were too many ghosts back in Hong Kong. Too many reasons not to sleep at night.”

“You still don’t sleep enough at night,” Elizabeth pointed out, reminding him that they were both sitting out on the balcony long after they should have been in bed asleep.

“And you don’t eat enough.”

Elizabeth agreed. “We’re a fine pair.”

James looked at her, then reached out and cupped her chin in his hand. “If you think that, Elizabeth, then you can’t have heard the rumors about me.”

“I heard.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Lois Marlin told me,” she explained. “In the park yesterday. But I don’t believe a word of them.”

He was tempted to kiss her, so James dropped his hand from her face and stared up at the stars. “I didn’t kill her,” James said starkly. “I couldn’t forgive her for what she did, but I didn’t kill her.”

“I never doubted that for a moment,” Elizabeth answered, her eyes sparkling with fierce emotion and loyalty.

“I did,” James said. “Oh, logically, I understood that she killed herself. But until today, I never understood that I wasn’t responsible. I kept telling myself that if I’d just been able to forgive her for what she’d done, she’d still be alive. But I couldn’t forgive her. And when she died I felt I was responsible. I thought I killed her.” He looked at Elizabeth. “Be glad you got here after Owen died. It’s horrible to sit helplessly by while someone you love dies slowly, little bit by little bit, until they simply waste away. That’s why I worry so. I try not to, but I can’t seem to help it. Every time someone misses a meal, I think it’s happening all over again.”

Elizabeth sucked in a breath as understanding dawned and the horror of what James had endured sank in. “Oh, my God, what did she do?”

“I have money,” he said. “Lots of it. Millions of pounds of it. And I could have bought her anything on earth she wanted to eat. I tried. But she wouldn’t let me see her. Wouldn’t let me near her. And by the time I realized what was wrong, I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t force her to eat.”

Tears sparkled in Elizabeth’s eyes and ran unchecked down her face. “Oh, James, I’m so sorry.” Impulsively offering comfort, Elizabeth leaned forward, wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his shoulder.

“So am I,” he said softly. “But every day I live with the knowledge that even in a house of plenty, there was nothing I could do to prevent my wife from deliberately starving herself to death.”

THE MOMENT JAMES
turned in her arms, nothing on earth could have prevented Elizabeth from offering him the solace he needed. Desire arced between them like lightning. She leaned forward and closed her eyes as James sought her mouth with his own.

She deserved gentleness, James reminded himself in an effort to go slow. She deserved tenderness. So he devoted himself to giving Elizabeth everything she deserved. He nibbled at her lips, then traced the texture of them with a light brush of his own. James touched the seam between her lips with the tip of his tongue, showering Elizabeth with pleasure as he tasted the softness of her lips and absorbed the feel of her mouth, poring over every detail, every nuance of her lips and mouth and teeth and tongue, with the same single-minded attention to detail he used to orchestrate million-dollar deals. He leaned into her, pressing the lower part of his body against the cradle of hers and Elizabeth opened her mouth and parted her legs to grant him access. Acknowledging her generous offering, James reached up, tangled one hand in her hair, and sent her hairpins scattering in all directions as he pulled her closer to deepen his kiss. He used his tongue to delve deep into the
lush sweetness of her mouth. Her tongue mated with his, mirrored his as he plundered the depths, then retreated before plundering again.

Elizabeth sank against him, shivering in delicious response as James left her lips and kissed a path over her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose, brushing his lips lightly over hers once again before he continued on his path to the pulse that beat at the base of her throat. Elizabeth had always prided herself on her independent spirit and her education, but she found she was sadly, shamelessly, lacking in both those attributes as she lay in James’s arms. She was a little bewildered to discover she was more than willing to relinquish her independence and become a willing slave to her desires.

James rubbed his nose into the hollow below her ear, inhaling the fresh lavender scent of her, as he laved the spot where her pulse throbbed with his tongue. He nibbled and teased and coaxed his way from her mouth to her throat, to the dainty pink shell of her ear and back again with a finesse he’d almost forgotten he possessed. A fierce longing flowed through him, making him shudder with the need to touch all of her, to taste all of her. He remembered the way her breasts had looked through the wet transparent fabric of her chemise, the way their pink tips puckered like ripe lips awaiting a lover’s kiss. His kiss. And, ever the gentleman, James vowed not to disappoint them.

She melted back on the chaise and gazed up at the twinkling stars as James cupped her breast with his hand, pushing it up and out of the confines of her corset so that only the fabric of her chemise and bodice separated her breasts from him. Elizabeth started as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the tip of her breast until it hardened against the fabric, then kissed his way down the front of her bodice, past the row of tiny buttons that kept her fastened inside her dress, and pressed his lips around the hard little nub in the center of her breast.

Fire, like the fire of a glass of brandy on an empty stomach, shot through, her, only this fire was a thousand times
better than anything alcohol induced. Elizabeth gasped as the warmth of his breath against her breast made her nipple swell and harden even more until she ached in the dark secret recesses of her body—all the places proper ladies didn’t admit to having. Elizabeth arched her back, filling the night air with little incoherent sounds she made in her throat. She wiggled in his arms, moving steadily closer until she finally reached up, clamped her fingers into his thick black hair and held him pressed against her. She whimpered hoarsely as James dampened the satin of her bodice with his tongue, then forced his warm breath through the fabric, igniting spontaneous little brush fires of desire that flared throughout her body.

James chuckled deep in his throat, thrilled with Elizabeth’s impatience and heady with the powerful sensations swirling around them and with the incredible realization that she enjoyed his touch as much as he enjoyed touching her. He turned his head so that he might breathe once again, then slowly worked his way over the satin fabric, past the little jet buttons to her other breast. He wanted to bite off the buttons and tear the linen covering her breasts away with his teeth, but he fought to control that urge, freeing her breast from her corset, instead, by cupping his hand beneath it and pushing it up and over the top of the whale-bone in the same way he’d freed her other one. Once his mission was accomplished, James lavished her nipple with a rush of hot, moist air. God, but he wanted to touch her. All of her. He wanted to suckle at her breast and taste the sweet hot essence of her. He wanted to bury his length inside her warmth and to feel the heat of her surrounding him as he throbbed and pulsed within, and he wanted to capture her lips and swallow her cries as they careened toward the heavens and where desire and passion were forged like iron and carbon melded into steel, forming an exquisite blend of love and faith and trust.

James worked his way from her breasts back to her lips. His tongue, warm and rough, plundered her mouth as he slipped a hand under her skirts and worked his way through
the sea of petticoats until he felt the lace of her drawers just above her knees. He reached beneath the lace ruffle at her knee and ran his hand up her silken-clad thigh as far as the give in the fabric allowed. Frustrated by his lack of progress, he withdrew his hand from the leg of her drawers and began again. His second foray yielded better results as he ran his hand over the top of her thigh and down into the valley between her legs. He located the opening in the fabric and gently eased his fingers inside it, through the nest of silken curls, to the damp swollen flesh hidden beneath them.

“James, please,” Elizabeth moaned and begged as she thrust her hips against his incredibly talented fingers while James traced the contours of her sleek flesh and teased the tight little bud hidden within the petal-like folds of her most secret place. There were no words to describe the shock of the myriad delicious and forbidden sensations she felt as James slid his skilled fingers into her soft folds. She felt the impact of those sensations deep inside her womb as her body clenched uncontrollably, yearning to fill the desperate emptiness that James had created with his touch. Elizabeth knew she should be scandalized by James’s familiarity with the forbidden places on her body, knew she should be alarmed at the way he played her like an instrument, coaxing sweet music from her. But he stroked and probed her with such infinite tenderness and such agonizing care that she couldn’t be outraged. How could she be shocked and angry when all he gave was unimaginable pleasure?

“Please,” she murmured again with such anguish that James couldn’t tell if she was inviting him to continue or begging him to stop. He deliberately deepened his caress and circled his fingers. Elizabeth immediately pressed her legs together in reaction, before opening them again to give him access. And James had his answer.

Elizabeth squirmed as pleasure—hot and thick and dangerous—surged through her body, filling her with urgent longings she never know she possessed. She thrust her hips
upward as she moaned her delight and gasped out his name in short, frantic little breaths.

James continued to kiss her, gently at first, then harder, consciously matching the action of his fingers to that of his tongue as he feverishly worked his magic on her. He knew she was desperately close to finding wondrous satisfaction, even if she didn’t quite know what was happening to her. His body chafed beneath his self-imposed restraint. He ached to join her in blissful release, but James had to take his time. He pressed his thumb against her, soothing her aching core with the sweet honey she lavished on his fingers.

Elizabeth cried out against his lips, then shuddered deeply as her fragile control shattered, and she came apart in his arms, arching her hips wildly against his hand before collapsing on the chaise. She finally opened her eyes, and looked up at him with such an expression of sheer wonderment and joy that James’s breath caught in his throat. He was humbled by the look in her eyes and rewarded tenfold for his remarkable restraint.

Elizabeth blushed. “What happened to me?”

“I hope you touched the stars,” James said honestly.

“I not only touched them,” she said, smiling at him, “but I saw them and felt them and kissed them and fell through them.” Her eyes shimmered with emotion as she reached up and placed her palms on both sides of his face. “Thank you,” she said simply as she pulled his face down to meet her lips.

“It was an honor,” he whispered seconds before he captured her mouth with his own.

James kissed her again—this time with all the pent-up passion and frustration and longing he’d been holding in check so long. He kissed her until her breasts heaved with exertion, until her bones seemed to turn to jelly, until all she could do was cling to him while she fervently returned his kisses measure for measure. James’s mind reeled from the flood of sensations she evoked as her tongue mated with his.

Shaking with need, James finally pulled his mouth away.

“What’s wrong?” she asked in confusion.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he answered.

“Then why did you stop kissing me?”

“Because I want you.” James leaned his forehead against hers and drew a shaky breath. “All of you.”

“You have all of me,” she told him.

James shook his head. “I’m not entirely certain you understand what I mean, Elizabeth. But I’m damned sure you weren’t as compromised as your grandmother believed.”

The smile Elizabeth gave him was beatific. “Then, why don’t you show me how it should be done? Compromise me.”

That was all the encouragement James needed. He scooped her into his arms, lifted her from the chaise, and headed toward his bedroom.

Elizabeth looped her arms around his neck and held on. They negotiated the distance from the chaise to the French doors leading to James’s bedroom between kisses. “James,” Elizabeth said as he entered his room and placed her on his bed, “not here.”

James groaned aloud. “Why not?”

“The Treasures.”

For the first time since he’d become a father, James remembered he was a man as well as a father and put his needs ahead of the needs of the Treasures. “What about them?”

“Cardinal rule number one: Never leave the Treasures alone.”

James’s blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled down at her. “Then, we’ve got a real problem, my love, because I don’t think what we’re about to do is something they ought to witness just yet.”