Time After Time (124 page)

Penelope gave herself over to the demanding urgency of his kisses as the familiar heat rose in her. He said he wouldn’t ruin her, but she was beyond caring as she felt his hands slip underneath her back to work on the fastenings of her gown. She clung to him as he yanked her loosened gown off her shoulders, then past her breasts.

She jumped when his hands cupped her breasts through the thin fabric of her chemise, filling his palms with her soft flesh, kneading them until her eyes clenched shut and she was mindlessly writhing beneath him.

“You like that, sweetheart?”

She sighed. “
Yes!
”

A laughing groan escaped him as he continued fondling her breast. “So sweet, so honest … ”

Lucas bent his head and worked the ties of her chemise loose with his teeth, making her gasp and open her eyes as he dragged her chemise down, freeing her breasts, watching as her nipples tightened into proud, erect buds beneath his hungry gaze.

“Beautiful,” he whispered reverently as he lowered his head and licked her nipple.

He paused when she couldn’t stop the tears shimmering in her eyes. “What is it? Am I hurting you?”

She shook her head and gave a sad, little smile. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Lucas,” she said, hoping her voice held none of the pain she felt. She touched his arm, carefully avoiding his wound. “I know what I am. I realize that people find me — ”

“Lovely? Tempting? Desirable?”

“No,” she whispered.

He held her gaze. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough as his thumbs rubbed her nipples. “Because if you’re sure, then tell me why you drive me mad with lust just by holding your hand.” He placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “Tell me why I’ve spent sleepless nights imagining you beneath me, like this.”

“Lucas … ”

“Tell me why I ache to kiss and touch every part of you.” He rubbed his rigid arousal against the juncture between her thighs, and she moaned with pleasure. “You know I’m telling the truth, Penelope,” he growled. “You can feel how much I want you.” He pushed himself against her, his hips pinning her to the bed.

He meant it.
Penelope felt it in the urgency of his movements, of the raw hunger of his kiss when he covered her mouth with his, driving his tongue into her mouth again and again as his hips ground against hers. She felt it as he tore his mouth from hers to devour her breasts, and she kissed his dark hair, his temples, any part of him she could reach as she matched his movements and arched up against him, wanting more … needing more …

He suddenly tore his mouth from her breast and stared down at her face. His eyes blazed with desire and his features were taut with need, his breath thick and ragged, making him seem like some great, predatory beast as he lifted off her to lie at her side.

Was that it?
Penelope protested the loss with a whimper of disappointment that turned into a shocked gasp as he lifted her skirts and his hand cupped the damp place between her legs. She clamped her thighs together, unable to question the instinct even as he groaned in frustration.

“Don’t close against me, sweetheart,” he choked out. “Let me feel you … I only want to feel you.”

Responding to the need in his voice, she forced her legs to relax, and he rewarded her with a blatantly carnal kiss while he found the slit in her drawers and slipped his hand inside. She felt him press his palm against the moist curls between her thighs, rubbing her in a manner that made her squirm and arch against his hand.

He kissed her temple when she released a moan of pleasure and she buried her face in his neck, whimpering with need while he continued the delicious movement of his hand.

“Oh, God! Lucas, that’s very — ”

“Oh yes, it is. Very,” he rasped. His voice washed over her like liquid fire as his thumb found a sensitive nub of flesh and he rubbed the spot, teasing it until she writhed and pressed herself against his thumb. She wanted to scream. She wanted him never to stop. She wanted more.

“Please, Lucas!” she begged him. For what, she didn’t know.

“Yes, sweetheart.” He groaned. “Take it. I’ll give it to you, I promise.”

He lowered his head to suck at her breasts once more and slid a finger inside her, stroking her in a way that drove her mad as she felt the fire build up in her.

“Yes,” he growled as he slid another finger inside her and quickened his strokes. “Reach for it, nymph. Let it happen … ”

The thrusts of his fingers grew firmer, more demanding, pulling at her and beckoning her, sending the flames higher and higher until a sudden explosion of pleasure made her cry out his name. He held her as she quivered and shattered beneath him, arching against his hand as waves of pleasure swept through her.

Lucas’s knowing hand gently guided her back from oblivion. He held her as she regained her bearings, stroking her gently and brushing kisses against her cheeks, her temples.

She dropped her hands from around his neck. “That was … ”

“Good?” he whispered.

“Amazing. Exquisite. Wonderful.”

She looked up at him to see his reaction. What she saw filled her with guilt. His eyes were clenched shut, and the same stark hunger darkened his features as he held himself above her.

“Ummm … is there anything I can do to make you … ” She bit her lip as she tried to think of how to say it. Then she spoke again. “I mean, can I … can I do anything?” She made a vague gesture that encompassed the whole of him.

A strained laugh escaped him. “You can’t know how I’ve waited to hear you say that, sweetheart, but it wouldn’t be wise. I can only take so much, and if I don’t get out of this bed soon I
will
ruin you, no matter what I promised.” His eyes blazed at her. “And the servants will be up soon.”

“Oh!” She sat up, panicked.

“I better get out of here while I still can.” He brushed a kiss against her temple. “Good night, Penelope.”

“Good night.”

She sighed, suddenly wishing that he wasn’t so honorable as she watched him slowly open the door and slip into the darkened hallway, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Chapter Eleven

“Polly? It’s Papa. Can I come in?”

Penelope’s eyes snapped open. She blinked against the harsh light as she tried to regain her senses.

“Polly? Are you awake?”

“Ungh. Yes, Papa. Come in.”

She watched from her bed as her stepfather came in bearing a tray of food. The comforting smell of freshly made toast and eggs wafted through the room, and she closed her eyes, savoring it.

“You missed breakfast. I thought you might be hungry.”

She opened her eyes, sat up and gave a languid smile. “Thanks, Papa.”

Papa set the food tray on her writing table, turned and froze
.
Froze?

“What’s wrong?”

“Is there anything you want to tell me, Polly?” He approached the bed. “Anything you think I should know about?”

She frowned in confusion. “I don’t think so.”

Her stepfather scowled back. “I see.”

He tossed her dressing gown to the bed and averted his gaze as she put it on. “As I recall, you and the earl said you needed time to get to know each other before deciding to get married. Have you decided yet?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but Papa waylaid her with a wave of his hand. “You shouldn’t play games with a man’s life, Penelope. I taught you better than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“The earl has estates to run, tenants who depend on him and a sister who needs him. Yet you keep him here for an entire week to wait for you to make a decision.” He shook his head. “I thought it was a sound idea. It would help us get to know your future husband better.”

He put his hands on his hips. “But to be honest, I didn’t think you’d keep him dangling this long. There’s not much more to find out from spending time with a man for a week that you can’t learn in three days.”

She watched Papa sit by her writing desk as shame poured through her. Lucas’s words after she’d accidentally shot him drifted through her mind:
Enough of these games.

She buried her face in her hands. “I’m scared, Papa. I’ve been avoiding making a decision because — ”

“I believe you’ve already made a decision. I’ve seen you interact with him, and I believe it is a sound match. He’s a good man.”

“I know he is, Papa, but … ” She faced her stepfather, letting him see her turmoil. “I’ve seen what an arranged marriage can be like. Mama married my father out of duty, and she wasn’t happy because she loved
you
. What would’ve happened to us if you’d been married when my father died and Uncle Hugh cast us out?”

“I never would’ve married anyone other than your mother,” Papa said quietly. “And if your mother hadn’t married Edmund Maitland, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Well, when you put it that way … ”

“Stop worrying about what happened or what could have happened in the past, Polly. You can do naught about it anymore.”

He walked over to put his hand on her shoulder. “What matters is the present,” he reminded her. “Either marry the earl or release him from the betrothal. But make the decision, child, because if you wait too long, you will lose your chance. Then it will no longer be your decision to make.” His gray brows rose. “The earl can’t stay here forever.”

What else could she say? She’d convinced herself she deserved to have him for a while longer after waiting for him all those years, but Papa was right. She was being a coward, and she could not keep delaying her decision any longer. “I’ll talk to Lord Ravenstone today.”

“Good. Now eat your breakfast.” He turned to leave. “Oh, and Polly?”

“Yes, Papa?”

“When you talk to the earl, make sure you give him back his coat.”

Her stepfather left the room, closing the door just as her bewildered gaze bounced to Lucas’s coat lying in a crumpled heap of blue by the side of her bed. The same coat he’d taken off last night when they’d been … She groaned and buried her face on her pillow. She had run out of time. Her “affair” was now over, before it even had a chance to fully begin.

Oh, she was going to give Lucas his coat, all right. And then she was going to kill him.

• • •

What the hell did she want from him
?

Lucas hurled the book he’d been trying to read across the room in disgust. The blasted woman wouldn’t even let him read! And he’d thought this whole damned thing would be easy.

He had to get out of here. This courtship nonsense of his own fiancée was just that. Nonsense. He was done playing her games.

He had never been much for courtship anyway — he preferred women who were content with the promise of jewels and gowns and who were as uninterested in messy, emotional complications as he was.

But
this
woman! This woman made him jump through hoops, and still she wouldn’t give him the answer he sought. He was running out of time.

What more did she want from him?
He’d come to this remote town to make her his countess, he’d ingratiated himself with her family, he’d played the perfect gentleman, he’d pleasured her … Lucas groaned and reached for his cravat, turned to the mirror and proceeded to tie it into intricate knots as he got ready to tutor the woman’s little brother.

I can’t take much more of this.

It had taken all of his control to leave her bed last night. If that weren’t enough, he’d spent the rest of the evening reliving each moment she’d spent in his arms, remembering the arousing sounds she’d made, the scent of her, how wet and warm she’d become for him, the way she’d looked as she found fulfillment. He felt himself harden and cursed roundly.

He would not allow any woman to lead him around by his bollocks. That’s how it began … if he were wise, he’d leave now and find some other bride before he ended up like Father. Or worse, he might end up like his mother.

He finished tying his cravat and turned away from the mirror.
I am nothing like Mother!
And he certainly wouldn’t allow himself to care for any woman and give her the power to destroy him. That was the most important lesson he’d learned from Leonard Drake.

Lucas raked his hand through his hair in frustration. He ought to strip the woman bare, have his way with her and go straight to her stepfather. He’d fantasized about bedding her so many times it was amazing he hadn’t gone blind. He’d never had a problem with controlling his urges before.

What was it about this woman, who most people would consider to be plain, that fascinated him to the point of obsession? Her beauty lay in the details one had to notice to appreciate. The delicate, graceful hands that healed with a gentle touch, the smooth complexion despite hours spent under the sun, those haunting hazel eyes and the floral and sunshine scent of her. He was a man who’d been trained from an early age to look at details, and the details in this woman were driving him insane. If his actions last night did not produce the results he wanted, he was likely to have his first temper tantrum in his adult life.

He took a deep, calming breath. “I need
a drink!”

“I agree. Which type?”

He whirled to find Penelope watching him from the doorway. “We use alcohol for mixing medicines, so I’m certain we’ll be able to find whatever drink you need,” she added.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Her eyes widened at his tone. “Did you just
snarl
at me?” She shook her head in derision. “I should have known you’d be a bear in the morning. You look awful.”

“Thank you,” he replied through gritted teeth. “If you have nothing more to say, I suggest you get out of this room if you know what’s good for you.”

“Oh, I think you’d want me to stay.”

“And why is that?”

“I’ve come to discuss terms. Of our marriage.”

Just like that, his black mood lifted. He stared at her, unable to believe his ears. “You’re marrying me?”

“If we can agree to terms.”

Of course
. He should have known she would want to bargain. The woman still had to learn how to give in graciously. “Very well.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “State your terms.”
This should be interesting.