The Viscount's Counterfeit Wife (20 page)

“That’s good,
because I want to do things with you that only a husband should do
with his wife.” His hand went to her nape pulling her head to his.
One finger brushed a soft caress across her rosy cheek and he stared
into her eyes. “Your eyes are beautiful. Burnt umber. I must have
told you that countless times since we’ve known each other.”

“No...er...I-...”
There she was, stuttering again. She had cured herself of that
affliction years ago! She threw him a coy look. “Not in just that
way.”

He drew her nearer
still and placed tender lips against hers, gently probing.

She didn’t resist.
Couldn’t!
The
melting sensation inside was turning her ever-so-practical brain to
mush. They seemed to be breathing each other’s air....

She allowed him to draw
her up against his hard body. She steadied herself by laying her
palms against his chest.

He clasped her neck
with his large hand, leaning her head back to give him access to her
mouth.

His lips were soft, so
soft… as they brushed lightly against her.

…and warm, so warm…
as they settled more firmly on hers.

…and magical…so
very magical.

Irresistible.

His arms drew her
deeper into his embrace. Closer to his heated skin. Skin? Where had
his shirt gone? Had she taken it off or had he?

Suddenly, she was
straining against him. Her hands glided up and along the breadth of
his smooth shoulders, sliding around his neck to hold on, while his
talented hands molded her to him like a sculptor shaping a marble
couple, writhing together eternally in carnal concupiscence.

Never had her body
dominated her head, her whole being, like this.

No, it wasn’t her
body doing the conquering. It was the pleasure. Pleasure at his
blazing touch. Wondrous tinglings taking over her body, throbbings
that threatened to seduce her very soul.

His hands were playing
an enchanting melody of desire as they danced across her skin. Cooler
air flowed across her breasts an instant before he graced one turgid
mound with his lapping tongue.

He’d undone her
dress! And she hadn’t even noticed! Instinct told her to cover
herself with her hands, but all she wanted to do was thrust her chest
out further, closer to that tantalizing mouth that was creating such
havoc inside. His mouth left her breast, and she whimpered at the
loss, only to sigh in satisfaction when he swirled his clever tongue
around the nipple of her other breast.

She’d noticed again
how large his hands were. One of them slid down her side to clasp her
buttocks and it was as if it took possession of her entire bottom.

She moaned in harmony
with his groan of pleasure when he pressed her firmly against his
hard arousal. She almost swooned at the giddy feeling that shimmered
through every part of her. Liquid compliance seeped through her
bones, creating a hum of awareness, sending excited shivers flowing
through her.

She ached for him to
peel away her clothes and worship her entire body with his hot, silky
lips. To whisper outrageous murmurings into her eager ear.

“You are so
beautiful. Your breasts fill my hands perfectly.”

Heavens! Had she spoken
aloud? It was as if he’d heard her yearnings.

He lifted her tighter
against him. She held him close and pressed mindlessly against his
hardness. She was so caught up in the wild whirlwind, she never
noticed his hand slowly lifting her skirt.

“I want to caress
your naked curves.” His husky voice sent quivers scooting along her
nerves. His hand swept up the back of her thigh to caress her bare
behind.

She shivered from tip
to toe.

“Your skin is soft
and velvety. And you’re so very responsive to my every touch,
sweetheart.” An inquisitive finger sought entrance to the core of
her passion. “Ah…so wet.”

Startled, she began to
pull back, but his lips captured hers in another ardent kiss that
made her swoon, too dizzy to protest his bold actions. She was caught
up in a maelstrom of gasps and moans while his finger worked its
magic, stimulating sensitive spots she hadn’t even known she
possessed. Like a master artist, his clever digit stroked her inner
skin, flinging her mind, body, her very soul into blissful trembling.
Her body began to jerk and arch higher, closer… a thrumming,
searing sensation crept across her whole nether region, sending her
soaring.

A high keening sound
startled her. It took her more than a few moments to realize it came
from her.

He quickly stifled it
by the simple expedient of covering her mouth in yet another ravenous
kiss, the fingers of his other hand threaded tightly through her
hair.

A loud thud outside the
door didn’t impinge on her consciousness at first, but she heard
the second sound— a jangling of keys—and it jerked her sharply
back to the realization of where she was and what they were doing.

Scalding heat rushed to
her face. She stiffened in his arms and instinctively blocked his
tender caresses with her arms.

“No, love. Don’t
stop now. We’re so close…”

“Please,” she
pleaded, unable to look him in the eyes. He resisted for a few
fraught seconds then, wordlessly, loosened his hold. She swiftly
pushed herself away from him and slid off the sofa.

She held onto a chair
to steady herself for a moment. But at the third loud thud, she
hurried across the room to the large, ornately framed mirror hanging
on the wall. She spent a few moments straightening her hair and
fixing her dress. When no one entered the room, she pulled her
shoulders back, drew in a shaky breath and, walked toward the door,
only then recalling it was locked.

Reed’s eyes followed
her and he waited, hoping she’d turn around and smile at him before
leaving the room, give him some sign he hadn’t just dreamt that
extraordinary, erotic episode.

Vain hope.

She kept her face
firmly turned away as she glided quietly out the door.

That
damn butler again!
Reed was thrumming with frustration and
anger. He didn’t believe it! How many times could that … that
bulldog! break up what were fast becoming intoxicating interludes
with Talia?

He wanted to call her
back, but knew that would only agitate her further. For some reason,
his wife didn’t want the old man to know she was on intimate terms
with her husband.

What
the hell did Foster think a married couple did?

His wife wasn’t used
to being married, he told himself. It had been less than three weeks,
and most of this past week he’d been unconscious, deadened by
drugs, and without a memory. And by all accounts, he’d left her
immediately following the ceremony to conduct some mysterious
business. No wonder she was still so shy.

They’d probably been
together physically less than three or four times since they were
married. He wished he could recall those first times. Hell, he wished
he could remember just one time. His little wife was fast becoming an
obsession, like a fever in his blood.

He worked to compose
himself, to allow his painful arousal time to accept it wasn’t
going to be satisfied today. Maybe it was better this way. What woman
wants to make love with a man who doesn’t remember her? Can’t
even recall their wedding or the courting that led up to it?

What if he never
recalled his past? Dread filled him. But he had to face it. He leaned
back and folded his arms behind his head.

How
would that work?
She’d still have memories of the man he
had been, when she had presumably first been attracted to him, while
he would learn to…. No, he had already learned to care for the
woman he was eager to know all over again.

But
to marry so quickly!
Theirs must have been a powerful
love-at-first-sight!

Or was that the
trouble? Was that why he had a bullet wound? Had theirs been a
gunshot wedding? Literally! Had he ruined her and had to pay the
price for it? It was hard to believe he’d have to be forced to do
anything with Talia. Maybe that was why she wouldn’t tell him. She
was hoping he’d never remember.

Or perhaps one of her
jealous suitors shot him. That, he could believe.

He was desperate to get
his memory back so he’d remember every moment they’d spent
together. He wanted to clear up the confusion that was churning
inside his gut. The way their bodies reacted to each other, it was
obvious they had been strongly attracted to each other from the
start. He must have always had a hard time keeping his hands off of
her. He certainly did now.

Since he’d awakened
without his memory, they hadn’t done much touching, except for the
few dazzling kisses he’d managed to coax out of her and then just
now. She seemed oddly innocent for a married woman, almost virginal.
She shied away from him, as if afraid.

Think of it, he told
himself. It’s only been a few weeks. He stood up unsteadily. And
she was quite young. Of course, if he’d seduced her that might
explain it. He found he didn’t like to think he’d taken advantage
of an innocent, nor did he want to think she was unhappy about their
marriage.

It all sounded very
foreign to the man he felt he was inside.
Surely
lack of memory can’t have someone feeling like a totally different
person than what they think they were… are?

Or did her
determination to maintain a distant attitude have something to do
with his gunshot wound? If he was involved in something dangerous,
she might have decided it was wiser to keep a safe distance from him.

He could understand
that.

He poked his head out
the door and was glad to find the hall deserted. He intended to have
a man-to-man talk with Foster — about his interference. Right now,
though, he didn’t feel up to it.

He waited, knowing the
butler would soon appear to help him make his way upstairs to his
room. His mind went back to his earlier musings about their marriage.
What had he been thinking, to leave a woman like Talia, while he was
off gadding about?

Well,
no longer.
He had plenty of wasted time to make up for!
This accident had knocked sense into his head. Literally. And he was
going to make the most of this second chance.

Tally walked briskly
into her room, shut the door, and leaned back against it.

She couldn’t go
downstairs! Not yet. Foster would know, right away, what she’d been
doing. She was hopeless at hiding her emotions. A few moments in her
room to breathe and make her hands and legs stop shaking, and then
she’d be fine.

She felt like banging
her head against the door, she felt so cheated. She pressed a hand
against her mons. She hadn’t known it could throb like this.
Goodness! She snatched it away and held it to her chest. Look at what
he had her doing!

She couldn’t believe
what had just happened. Was this why her sisters had turned foolish
the minute they’d met their future husbands?

Trembling fingers
brushed over her swollen lips. They felt different. They still
tingled from his intoxicating kisses.

What kind of magic had
he spun to bewitch her?

Coming away from the
door, she moved her shoulders in circles to dispel the tension there.
She wanted to blame him for what had just happened… but that would
be dishonest. She hadn’t protested enough.

Enough?
S
he hadn’t
protested at all! She’d participated fully. It’d be unfair to be
angry with him for...

For
what? For behaving like any husband would?

And really, nothing
much had happened. Well, nothing irretrievable.

The man had no idea he
was not her husband. He believed he was perfectly justified in doing
what he’d started and hoped to finish.

She’d never realized
just how precarious a position she had put herself in by involving
herself in this deception. Crossing the room to her mirror, she
checked her hair. Her cheeks were still a little too rosy. She
inhaled a deep lungful of air and slowly blew it out. Then, another.

Dr. Graham had not
anticipated such a complication when he’d insisted she maintain
this lie.

Reed believed he had
the right to do anything to her!

Worse, she was no
longer sure she wanted to refuse him!

But no matter how
charming her sham husband appeared, she must not forget this was the
man who had climbed a wall into her bedroom, possibly intending to
kill her.

* * *

“Who the hell is this
Mason, this so-called friend of my wife’s brothers?” Reed asked
Foster who had accompanied him back to his room after the morning
meal the next day. It irked him to have the old fossil escorting him
upstairs as if he were an invalid, but he still wasn’t steady on
his feet. Like the blind leading the blind.

He’d gone down to
breakfast expecting to have an intimate
tête-a-tête
with his wife, only to find they had a guest, a tall Scottish
Corinthian.

He hadn’t objected
when Mrs. P had arrived. They needed the help, and she was a good
cook. The added bonus was that she kept him abreast of activities in
the house. She was a welcome addition, but this calm, composed,
far
too handsome
— though a bit bran-faced to match his
copper locks — man, who sat there paying rapt attention to Talia
during the meal, was not who he wanted living in the house.

“Don’t distress
yourself about Mr. Mason, sir. It’s like Missy said, he’s a
friend of the twins…”

“Twins?”

“Miss Tally’s
brothers are twins, sir.”

“Oh. Did I…? I
guess I must have known that before…” This no memory business was
weighing heavily on his spirits. While small bits of his prior
recollections were coming back to him, the important things continued
to elude him. “You were saying…” he prompted the butler, who
looked a little confused. “about Mason?”