The Earl's Secret (10 page)

“I can't wait much longer, luv.”

“Oh!” Jennifer's fingers edged into the warm fold of fabric at his hip and came out with the necessary item.

“You do it,” he said.

Shakily she tore open the tiny packet as Christopher shifted his weight off to one side and unzipped his pants. She could hardly breathe, hardly make her fingers function. He seemed to enjoy her difficulty concentrating on the task while he distracted her with kisses and caresses.

At last he eased his pants and briefs off the rest of the way and knelt over her to make things easier.

She looked at him. Really looked at him from close up for the first time. He was full, long, steely hard and very beautiful in the most masculine of ways.

Jennifer let her fingers linger on him as she completed her job. A pulsing sensation moved low within her body, as if she could already feel how it would be when he entered her. Looking up, she saw in his
face a hunger that matched her own. For these amazing moments, she was all he wanted—just as he was everything to her.

Jennifer lay down, stretching her toes toward the far end of the couch, her arms up over her head, inviting him to come to her with every inch of her body.

He waited, his eyes drifting over her. She liked the way he fought his hunger. At last he seized a small throw pillow from the end of the sofa and slid it beneath her hips. She looked up at him, puzzled for a few seconds before he lowered his head and drew his tongue quickly down her tummy, across her navel, wandering lower still.

She let out a faint whimper of surprise as his kisses burrowed into her soft feminine nest. She looked down at him, glorying in the new sensations he was giving her, loving the way his eyes flamed knowingly up at her. As if he instinctively knew that what he was about to do for her was something no man before him had dared.

Gently parting her long limbs, he found her feminine core with the tip of his tongue. Jennifer shuddered and pressed herself up from the pillow to more fully meet his mouth. Waves of flame swirled round her, lifting her higher, higher still, until all around her seemed consumed in a glorious red haze. And she cried out in ecstasy.

But Christopher didn't stop or take his own gratification yet.

It was as if he could read the mounting curve of her passion, as if he knew better than she what she needed. His generous mouth and wickedly clever fingers coaxed another and still another delicious climax from her body, until she was gasping his name. At
last she fell limp with exhaustion against the couch cushions, her body humming contentedly.

“I believe it's now my turn, m'lady,” she heard him whisper huskily from above her. Smiling up at him, she opened herself to him.

Christopher plunged into her with a possessive fury.

He thrust only a few times before he let out a lusty groan of male satisfaction and collapsed over her, breathing heavily, tasting her lips one last time before resting his own against her perspiring throat.

Jennifer wrapped her arms around him, cherishing the delicious afterglow of their lovemaking as she drifted off to sleep beneath him.

J
ennifer left Christopher in her bed the next morning. She ached to stay with him, warm and safe in his arms, reassured by his sleeping presence. But even after a week's preparations, there was so much to be done before she could leave with him for Scotland.

As she stood in the cozy office where she had, as a child, done her homework while her mother worked, then later joined Evelyn to run the business, she looked fondly around the brilliantly postered walls. Scenes of exotic lands and ads for ski and cruise holidays reminded her of the fascinating places she'd shared with her customers over the years. The computer terminals, three lines on the phones, and stacks of mail also brought back the hard work that had gone into building Murphy's Worldwide Escapes into a modest success.

Was she throwing all of this away on a dream that
might end up a heartbreaking nightmare? A heavy knot bunched in her stomach and, although she took several slow, deep breaths, they didn't relieve the tension building inside of her.

Gently a hand patted her arm. “He'll be here to take you to the airport in just a few hours, dear. Don't you think you had better finish cleaning out your desk?”

Jennifer swung around in desperation to face her mother. “Tell me I'm doing the right thing.”

Evelyn smiled. “Do you love him?”

How many times had Jennifer asked herself that same question? It had never resulted in a satisfactory answer. All she felt now was a disturbing wave of nausea. “I think I must. I wouldn't risk leaving my home and all of this if I didn't.”

“Think of it as just another tour,” her mother suggested. “The only difference is that you and Christopher are the only travelers.”

Jennifer laughed wryly and shook her head. “I don't even know the itinerary, or how long the trip will last.”

“A little like the rest of life isn't it?” Evelyn opened her arms to her daughter. They turned the reassuring hug into a shared embrace, comforting to both of them.

When Jennifer pulled away, she felt a little better. “It's just that I feel I'm risking so much, and not all of it is mine to gamble.”

Evelyn shook her head. “If you mean that you're somehow endangering
my
future by flying off with your young earl to Scotland, put
that
out of your head. I have a new assistant lined up to cover the office. As
soon as she finishes training, I'll be itching to lead tours again. The business will be fine.”

“What about you, Mom?” Jennifer asked with concern. “Will
you
be all right?”

“I'll miss you, of course. But I won't be able to resist my curiosity for long. One day I'll hop on a jet and come visit the two of you and that castle you've been raving about.” Evelyn gave her a mysterious smile. “In the meantime, it's not as if I don't have a life of my own. In fact, I have a date next Saturday.”

“A date? With a man? You?” Jennifer grinned sheepishly. “I mean…not that you're too
old
or anything like that.”

“You'd better believe it, young lady,” Evelyn said firmly, her eyes bright. “It's about time I stopped looking at half the world's population as the enemy.” Her expression turned suddenly serious. “Don't let my experience with your father destroy your chances for happiness. Try not to be cynical about love.”

“I will try,” Jennifer promised.

“Good. Now,” Evelyn pronounced in her back-to-business voice, “get that desk cleaned out so my new employee will have a place for her things. And remember, if this romantic tour of yours doesn't work out, you'll always have a place to come back to. You won't have lost a thing.”

Jennifer gazed down at her tightly clenched fists.
That's not true,
she thought sadly. For she surely would have lost her heart.

 

As Christopher drove the Jag up the winding drive to Castle Donan, Jennifer sat forward in the passenger seat and felt her heart swell with delight at the sight of the magnificent stone structure. It seemed as
moody and ruggedly beautiful as its master. And she loved the one as much as the other.

“What are you thinking?” he asked when he shut off the engine and she sat unmoving in her seat, gazing up at the turret where they had first kissed.

“How lovely this place will be once all the work has been done.”

“Yes,” he said. “It will be.” But his eyes were fixed on her, not on the ancient fortress. “We have plenty of time for work. It's been a long two days of traveling. Let's unpack, see if Mrs. Clark has left us something for supper, then go off to bed.”

She blushed, knowing the smoldering flecks in his eyes meant he would make long, slow love to her high above the misty moors before either of them found sleep that night.

They dined on cold roasted chicken, sliced fresh garden tomatoes sprinkled with olive oil and herbs, thick slabs of crusty oat bread slathered with creamy butter and a delicious selection of cheeses and sliced fruits and berries for dessert. Afterward, full of good food and sleepy from the wine that had accompanied it, Jennifer took the hand Christopher offered and climbed the elegant stone staircase with him to their room.

He paused at each landing to enfold her in his arms and press soft kisses over her closed eyes, her cheeks and throat. And he whispered the same words each time: “Thank you. Thank you for coming with me.”

 

Christopher woke before Jennifer stirred. He turned over between the sheets and watched her sleep, grateful to whatever power had brought her to him. She was pure joy, the happiest thing that had come into
his life in a very long time. Happier, in a way, than the birth of his daughter, because that had been a bittersweet time in his life. He hadn't been able to claim Lisa. But Jennifer was with him, and he intended to keep her for as long as he was able.

Christopher dressed quickly, took the long twist of stairs in twos and greeted Mrs. Clark who was already busy in the kitchen. “I'll introduce you to Jennifer sometime today,” he promised. “But I'm sure jet lag will have the best of her for the morning.”

“Don't you go hurryin' your precious betrothed,” she scolded him. “The lass'll be seein' enough of me soon. Why don't you take her a tray. She'll wake famished.”

“Good idea,” he said, smiling affectionately at the older woman.

Christopher had had the presence of mind to telephone the Clarks before his flight back to Britain. Carefully, he had chosen his words, describing Miss Murphy as a
friend.
He knew only too well that Annabelle Clark would give him a hard time if the relationship wasn't made clear from the start.

The call had done no good at all. Although the woman had always treated his girlfriends cordially, she had never attached any more permanence to them than he had. For reasons unfathomable to him, this time she started calling Jennifer his “betrothed” as soon as he announced she would be staying at Donan for an undetermined time.

“Let's start with a carafe of your good coffee,” he said, surrendering.

“And scones with fresh butter, oatmeal and fruit. From the little I glimpsed of her from our cottage window last night in the dark, I'd say your intended
is needin' some good, hearty food. Scrawny little thing, she is.”

Not where it counts,
Christopher nearly replied.

Half an hour later, he took the tray up to the suite at the top of the turret. Jennifer twisted around in bed, pulled the sheets up over her breasts and smiled up at him. They had slept without nightclothes, and she looked just as delectable this morning as she had last night.

He set the tray on the bedside table and kissed her. “Sleep well for your first night?”

“Heavenly,” she said with a sigh. Her eyes shifted with interest to the tray. “What's this?”

“Breakfast. I ate in the kitchen. It's all yours.”

“Good thing, too. I'm famished.” She gasped as she uncovered a steaming bowl of cream-splashed Scottish oatmeal sprinkled with brown sugar. “Oh, this looks marvelous!”

“I wasn't sure you'd like it.”

She took a huge spoonful. “I adore hot cereal. Makes me think of being a little girl on a cold winter morning.”

He watched with pleasure as she ate. They talked of plans for rejuvenating the gardens and furnishing some of the empty rooms. Jennifer's ideas newly inspired him. He made a mental note to call in a local landscaper to do the heavy work in the garden before the ground froze solid, so that Jennifer could plant spring bulbs.

“Before we go any further with this,” he said, snitching a piece of toast, “we should discuss your salary.”

She looked up at him and quickly swallowed the coffee in her mouth. “My
what?
”

“Salary. You don't think I expect you to do all of this work for nothing, do you?”

Jennifer put down the heavy ceramic mug on the tray. “To be honest, I didn't expect anything. I agreed to come to Donan because I wanted to be with you. And I like hard work.”

“I don't think you understand how much physical labor is involved.”

“I understand perfectly,” she snapped, hurt by this blatant reminder of their still-undefined relationship.

To her mind they had entered into a very personal kind of partnership. She had no spousal claims on his land, castle or anything he owned…and she didn't care about any of that. But did he actually consider her a
paid employee?

“What's wrong, Jenny?” He laid a hand over hers.

She shook it off, glaring up at him. “This isn't a
job
to me, Chris.”

He frowned. “Well, of course it isn't. But it wouldn't be fair if you came away from this with nothing.”

Came away
…as if he was already planning for the day when they would part.

“No, it wouldn't,” she said distinctly, then bit down on her bottom lip. How shrewish she sounded. This wasn't like her at all, and now he was staring at her with a perplexed look. “I'm sorry,” Jennifer murmured. “I guess I saw this venture in a more…a different way than you do.”

“I've never moved anyone in my employ into my bedroom.”

His eyes twinkled, as if he was wondering when she might figure things out for herself. They were trying to strike a delicate balance in their new rela
tionship; she understood that much. But he always seemed to be three steps ahead of her.

He continued, “I can't in good conscience put you to physical labor and give you nothing in return.” He flashed her a smile full of the devil. “Unless we could trade one sort of favor for another.”

He hauled her out of the bed as easily as lifting a pillow. She laughed, knowing she'd lost any chance, for the moment, of unscrambling her feelings or understanding his. For better or worse her heart was in his hands as surely as her body was in his arms.

“Who's to say I won't receive those favors without my lifting even a pinky finger,” she managed to come back at him playfully.

He put on a thoughtful expression. “How about a compromise?”

“What do you suggest?” she asked warily.

He kissed the tip of her nose. “We'll agree upon a fair fee for your services, which will be sent directly to Evelyn. She can invest it in Murphy's Worldwide Escapes, to your benefit and hers since you each own half. Or she can deposit it in an account for a rainy day, should either of you ever need it.”

Jennifer liked the idea. Christopher's thoughtfulness made her feel safer. It also made her a little sad, for he must have understood that she still didn't fully trust him to be there if she closed her eyes for a moment too long.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “That's very generous of you.”

“Better hold that praise for after a few weeks' work, woman. I promise, you'll earn every penny.”

 

But hard work didn't faze Jennifer. She loved living and working at Donan. The gardens lay in neglect,
but here and there she found the still-living rootstock of an ancient rosebush gone wild or the remains of an herb garden from whose abundance an eighteenth-century cook had plucked thyme, sweet basil, marjoram, rosemary and lavender.

She loved walking the property. There were stables, grooms' and groundskeepers' quarters and the Clarks' cottage. And everywhere were the ruins of stone huts and sheds. The property must have supported a small village at one time.

The days were long, yet there was always more to do than time allowed. Rebuilding a fallen-down stone wall around the west gardens. Patching plaster along the far end of the first-floor hallway. Stripping and refinishing wood trim in a small but elegant salon that once might have belonged to a mistress of Donan.

But they sometimes took time out for a leisurely horseback ride across the moor. And at the end of every day, there was a delicious dinner prepared by Mrs. Clark and a long, lazy sit by the fire over glasses of fruity local wine. Jennifer couldn't have been happier.

Two weeks after she had come to Castle Donan, Christopher announced he would need to take a half day off to deal with business at Lisa's school. “You wouldn't want to play hooky for the afternoon and come with me, would you?” he asked.

Jennifer couldn't resist a drive through the Borders with the man she was growing to love more every day. For it
was
love—she was sure of it now. A love she'd only dreamed of, never believing she would find it for herself. The weather promised to be mild and sunny, once the early mists burned off. They trav
eled at a leisurely pace, considering the driver's usual preference for speed.

“That's the second abbey we've passed in less than ten miles,” she commented. The ruins were marked on the map she'd been using to follow their route. The cold gray stone turned green or black with lichen and moss and the ravages of the weather.