The Devil's Own Luck (Once a Spy) (24 page)

She watched as he knelt down to examine the damaged concrete. He’d taken to riding bareheaded and the sunlight glinted off his lightened blond hair. His skin had tanned from his days riding the estate and she knew from their lovemaking that he’d developed a few calluses. A smile tugged at her lips. A bit of the town bronze was wearing off and she liked the changes. When he headed back their way, she called out to him, “So how does it look? I really don’t mind getting wet.”
    “I hate to disappoint you, but it’s fine.” He swung back into the saddle.
    Cecelia touched her fingertips to the brim of her hat. “Lead on, my lord.”
    Once they’d crossed the bridge, Hudson and Penny were given their heads and moments later they were galloping across the meadow. The wind whipped at her hair and the skirts of her riding habit billowed behind her. This was no race. They were riding hell for leather for the sheer pleasure of it. Joy thrummed through her as they flew over a blur of green and she was beginning to hope the ride would never end. However, when they reached the summit of a steep rise and the ruins came into view, she changed her mind.
    “Oh, how lovely,” she said as she reined Penny in.
    The Abbey rose a majestic four stories high from the center of a deep valley. It was flanked on one side by a cluster of partially intact outbuildings and on the other by a large pond whose surface mirrored the sky above. Ivy covered the exterior walls of the Abbey, obscuring much of the pale gray stone. The roof was missing and portions of the walls had fallen, but its splendor was still obvious.
    Rand urged Hudson forward and they traveled down the incline, sidestepping fragments of stone and tile that littered the ground. A gatehouse set between two soaring columns, appeared to be the only formal entrance. They passed beneath a thick archway that dripped with ivy. Inside a maze of both crumbling and undamaged walls made up the various cells and chambers. A curving staircase set off to one side would have led to the second and third levels had the floors remained.
    “One could get lost in here,” Cecelia said with a sense of wonder. “I had no idea it was so large. Anyone who would try to tear down something this wonderful should be cursed.”
    Still mounted, they wandered about trying to guess what the various rooms were used for. When satisfied they had seen everything, Rand turned to her and said, “You must promise me that you will never bring Rosie and David out here. At least, not without a leash. They would take off running and we would never see them again.”
    “You’re awful, but I daresay you're right. I'll wait until they're older.”
    “Twenty one at least. Now, where would you like to have lunch?”
    She smiled. “By the pond.”
    The water’s surface was still, reflecting the blue skies and scudding clouds overhead. Marsh grasses grew along much of the edge, hiding the family of ducks that had fled at the sight of their visitors. Seagulls soared overhead. Cecelia nudged Penny forward, inspecting their choices, before deciding that the shaded area beneath a willow that grew near the pond’s edge was the perfect spot for a picnic.
    She turned to her husband. “Isn’t it wonderful? Do you think the ducks might come out of hiding? I had them eating out of my hand at Reardon. I’ll leave bread close to the water before we leave. Maybe, once they get used us, they’ll come looking for food.”

Her face was alight with pleasure and Rand wondered what it would be like to live in a world where everything seemed wonderful. At times, he envied her innocence.
    He shook his head as she slid gracefully off her saddle and onto the ground. She was incorrigible. “Must you do that, Cecelia? You should wait for me to help you down.”
    She spun around and put her hands on her hips. “But, why? I can get down perfectly fine without assistance. I know it isn’t quite the thing in society, but no one else is around to see. I wouldn’t think of doing it if they were.”
    “I’m beginning to wonder how you survived the Season. Your independent nature won’t be appreciated by most of the ton and you know how cruel they can be. You’ll have more gossip directed at you than you know what to do with.”
    “Don’t fuss. I survived the Season quite nicely. I understand the rules. And since when do you care what the ton thinks?”
    “Since I married you,” he said pointedly. “And since we’ve made plans to have children.”
    She was quiet for a moment then dipped an exaggerated curtsy. “I beg your pardon, my lord husband. I shall make every attempt to curb my independent nature.”
    “Excellent. I love a docile woman.” He dismounted, unbuckled the saddle pack and placed it on the ground. “There’s a flagon of burgundy in there and I’m thirsty. Pour me a glass of wine, wench, while I tether the horses.”
    This time her curtsy was so low, she almost toppled over. “Yes, my lord and master. Whatever you wish is my command.”
    He quirked an eyebrow. “Truly?”
    “Of course. I would never knowingly tell you a lie.”
    “In that case, I wish you naked.” He grinned, then sauntered off leading Penny and Hudson to an area more suitable for grazing.
    When he returned a few minutes later, he found the blanket laid out along with the flagon of wine and two glasses, but no Cecelia. Assuming she had left to attend to private matters, he sat down on the blanket to drink his wine and wait. But after another ten minutes of waiting he began to wonder what her game was. Or even if something had happened to her.
    He stood, cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, “Cecelia!”
    Her voice came from the wooded area behind him. “It took you long enough! I’ve been waiting here forever.”
    He turned to look but there was no sight of her. “Where the devil are you?”
    “Did you really think I’d let you get away with calling me a wench? If you want me, you have to find me.”
    Rand scowled. He wanted to make love to her, not play nursery games. “Come on out, Cecelia. I don’t want to spend my time playing hide and seek.”
    “Don’t be such a grump. I’ll give you a clue.” A rustle of leaves came from the right and when he turned in that direction a boot came sailing toward him. He heard laughter and she danced out from behind a tree about twenty feet away and the other boot came flying at him followed by two balled up silk stockings. “Come and get me, my lord husband. That is if you can.” She did a little twirl then disappeared behind the trees.
    “Of course I can, but if you continue to throw articles of clothing at me I may take my time.” He leaned against a tree and folded his arms across his chest.
    “Rand.”
    Silence.
    “Rand!”
    His lips curled. He waited.
    “This is growing tedious. You’re not playing fair.” With obvious annoyance she stepped out from behind the tree and came toward him. “Ow!” she yelped as she hopped on one foot. “I stepped on a rock!”
    “I can’t say that removing your boots in the midst of a forest was particularly wise of you.”
    “I suppose not, but you were supposed to come get me. This isn’t any fun at all.” When she reached the edge of the trees he stepped in front of her. Shrieking, she tried to avoid his grasp, but he caught her by the waist before she could get away.
    “I beg to differ,” he said over her squealing. “I’m having a splendid time.” He hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of grain and headed for the blanket.
    “This is so undignified,” she cried. “Put me down. I won’t run off. I promise.”
    “I don’t believe I can trust you. You’re an errant chit who had no respect for her husband.” He ran his hand up her leg until it reached the curve of her bottom. “But you do have some redeeming qualities. I’ve never seen a nicer bottom. It’s round and soft like a newly ripened peach.”
    She lifted her head and beat on his back with her fists. “Stop fooling with my backside and put me down! The blood is rushing to my head. This is no way to treat a lady. You have to put me down. Now!”
    “If you insist.” He dumped her onto the blanket.
    She scrambled to a sitting position and tried unsuccessfully to appear irate. “That was so ungentlemanly of you. I can’t believe you did that!”
    “When we’re alone, I’m no gentleman.” He quirked an eyebrow. “And you’re no lady. Take your clothing off, Cecelia.”
    Her laughing green eyes tilted up at him as she removed her hatpins and tossed the tricorn aside. “I must say that I find it interesting that it’s perfectly permissible for me to remove my clothing in broad daylight but it isn’t permissible for me to dismount Penny without a man’s assistance. There’s absolutely no logic in it.”
    “Hush. Just take your clothes off.”
    She looked him straight in the eye and said, “No.”
    He hasn’t expected a refusal. “No? Have you suddenly gone timid on me? My dear wife, there isn’t an inch of your body that I haven’t seen, touched, kissed or licked.” He drew in a sharp breath at the visual image. “Take off your clothes.”
    “I can’t.”
    “Why the hell not?”
    A chime of laughter escaped her lips. “Because the buttons on my habit are very tiny and they are all in the back. I can’t possibly undo them myself.”
    He reached her side in two steps and pulled her to her feet. She turned her back to him and he peered at the row of buttons. “The next time you have a riding habit made,” he muttered. “I want some say in the design. These blasted buttons are no larger than a pea and there are far too many of them.” Even so, his nimble fingers made quick work of them and he soon tossed the one piece riding habit to the ground followed by her chemise and petticoats.

Standing stark naked in the sunlight gave her a sense of freedom quite unlike anything she had ever experienced before. She arched her back and stretched, feeling the deep seeping warmth of the sun penetrate her skin. “Oh, this is heavenly.”
    “I can’t argue with you on that.” His lips brushed softly against her neck then traveled to the soft flesh behind her ear. She heard him chuckle as she shivered. “It always works, doesn’t it?” he murmured softly.
    It did. Always. She closed her eyes. The world became a red veil as the sun warmed her eyelids. She tilted her head back as he plucked out the hairpins that secured her hair in a loose coil then felt the swish of her hair against her back as he combed it out with his fingers. Placing his hands on the curve of her shoulders, he turned her to face him. She opened her eyes. His heavy lidded gaze flickered over her.
    “When I look at you, I feel like a child with a pocket full of pennies who’s just arrived at a village fair. I don’t know what to do first.” For a long while he stood motionless and simply gazed at her.
    Her breathing grew uneven and her heart was pounding in her chest. Her muscles contracted and the dampness between her legs grew. She felt a growing desperation for him to do
something. Anything.
“Pick something. Now.”
    His arms came around her and he gently kissed her eyelids, her nose, her mouth. His lips were no more than a whisper against her skin and she would have none of it. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself up against him. “Don’t tease,” she murmured. “Or I shall do all the ravishing.”
    “In good time, my lady.” He cupped his hands beneath her bottom and pulled her up against him. Her fingers threaded through his silky hair and she kissed him slowly, deeply, tasting the wine he had drunk. His fingertips bit into the soft flesh of her bottom. She felt the strain of his arousal and rubbed against him. Her need grew. He slowly lowered her to the ground, his body casting a shadow over her sun warmed skin.
    His teeth grazed the hardened peak of her nipple; his tongue circled the pink flesh around it. He took her breast in his mouth and suckled gently as he trailed a fingertip through the wetness between her legs. She lifted her hips in response and caught his hand holding it tightly against her as he caressed the swollen flesh. The soft buzz of insects around them dimmed, the gentle lapping of the water against the marshy grasses went silent. She was aware of nothing but the pounding of blood in her ears and the touch of his fingers as he stroked the slick, heated flesh. He pinched and plucked and tickled until sweet sensation came into full bloom and she cried out. And then he left her, arms flung, legs sprawled, her body completely exposed to the sun.
    “My sweet wanton,” he whispered as he tore at his clothes. His skin was warm and damp as he covered her body with his. She reveled in his scent and the feel of his erection pulsing against her belly. He nudged her legs apart with his knee and it took every bit of self-control she had to say, “Stop.”
    He went still. “Stop? Christ, Cecelia,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t do this to me.”
    “Sit up.”
    He took in a ragged breath. “Why?”
    “I’m about to ravish you.”
    She felt the deep rumble of laughter in his chest before he pushed himself back on his heels. “That’s twice in one morning, you’ve nearly brought me to tears. Once more and I won’t be responsible for my behavior.”
    She sat up and pushed at his chest. “Lay down,” she commanded.
    “Stop. Sit down. Lay down,” he echoed. “What a nagging wench you’ve become.”
    “Lay down. On your back.”
    He glanced down at the erect flesh between his legs. “I promise you,” he said roughly as he leaned back on his elbows. “Plopping down on my belly wasn’t even a consideration.”
    Cecelia sat beside him but made no move to touch him. His eyes were closed against the sun, his lashes formed a crescent of burnished gold against his cheeks. The muscles in his arms and legs were sharply defined and covered with a dusting of gold hair. A cluster of darker curls sprung up at the base of the rose-tinted corded flesh that flickered and twitched in the sun.
    “What are you doing Cecelia?” His voice sounded as if he were in pain.
    “I’m looking at you.”
    “I suppose turnabout is fair play, but you’ve pushed me beyond endurance.” His voice fell off as she curled her fingers around him and touched her tongue to the bead of moisture that had formed on the tip his penis. The flesh quivered beneath her tongue and a soft groan came from the back of his throat. Guided only by instinct she twirled her tongue around the ridge of his shaft. His fingers moved to the nape of her neck and guided her until she had taken him in her mouth. She moved her lips up and down the satin skin until he cried out for her to stop and pushed her head away. She looked at him in confusion.
    “No more of this. Ride me.” He set his hands on her waist and pulled her over until she straddled him. Her confusion left and she took in sharp breath as he moved his hand around to the junction between her legs and stroked the warm wet flesh with the pad of his thumb. She slowly sank down sheathing him with her softness. His gaze never left her face as he thrust upward to deepen the penetration. His eyes were dark and liquid. At first, she moved against him moving with a slow, steady rhythm. But the skillful play of his fingers brought about an urgency for completion and she soon met his thrusting with a force almost equal to his. A spiraling need tightened within her and she moaned and whimpered until she arched her back and cried out as she lost herself in the bliss of orgasm. Only later when her breath came evenly and her pulse slowed did she realize he had turned her on her side and covered her legs with the blanket.