Winter Bride (9780345546197) (6 page)

She looked up at him dazedly. “You want me to leave?”

“No, I want you over on that bed, moving underneath me,” he said harshly. “And if you don’t get
out of here in the next minute that’s just where you’ll be. Get moving.”

She sat up and reached for her dress. It was difficult to move when her body felt so heavy and yet erotically sensitive.

“Too slow.” He snatched up her dress, slipped it over her head, and pulled it down over her body. Then he jerked her to her feet and pushed her toward the door. “Go on. Run back and hide out in that turreted cocoon.”

She was still too shaken to fully understand him. “You don’t want me to come back tomorrow?”

“You’re damned right I want you back here,” he said grimly. “By then I’ll have had time to get over these inconvenient twinges of consciousness and be able to take what I want.” He turned his back on her, every muscle rigid. “Get out of here.”

She ran out of the cottage and kept on running until she reached the castle. She felt on fire, her skin flushed and feverish. What had happened to her? she wondered desperately as she went into the foyer and started up the stone steps. She would not go back tomorrow. What he made her feel was too dangerous and she couldn’t let herself be swept away. Perhaps she could find some other way to—

“What are you up to, Ysabel? I saw you flying up the path like the devil was after you.”

Ysabel froze and looked at Betty standing at the foot of the stairs. She suddenly became conscious of her windblown hair, and scorching heat climbed to her cheeks as she realized she was not wearing anything beneath her dress. Her unbound breasts, outlined against the silky material,
seemed terribly betraying. She felt almost as if Betty must be able to see what had happened at the cottage. She quickly turned her back to the housekeeper. “N-nothing’s wrong,” she stammered. “I just felt like running.”

“Mr. Arnold wouldn’t like it. He always wanted you to move with dignity.”

“I forgot.”

“You seem to be forgetting too much of what we taught you.” Betty’s voice sharpened. “Where have you been all day?”

“I took along walk.”

“You’ve been taking a lot of walks lately.”

Ysabel’s patience nearly snapped. Dear heaven, she couldn’t cope with Betty’s suspicions in her present state. She wanted to explode, to rant and rave and strike out. “Walks are good for me.” She added deliberately, “Just like hot chocolate.”

“Are you being insolent?”

“I’m merely stating a fact.” Before Betty could reply she ran up the steps and out of sight.

But not out of earshot. She heard the housekeeper’s curse and shuddered at the venom in the woman’s voice. She was accustomed to Betty’s poisonous nature, but still it sickened her. How could the woman derive such pleasure from the unhappiness she inflicted?

She knew the answer. Power. Why else had Betty willingly lived and thrived in Arnold’s dark shadow all these years if they hadn’t been addicted to the same vice?

Ysabel slammed the door of her room, desperately hoping Betty wouldn’t follow her. Her control was almost gone and she didn’t know if she could
keep herself from lashing out.
Damn
the woman! She wanted to send something crashing against the far wall as she had done in those early days before she had learned to mask the anger and frustration within her.

She waited. No heavy footsteps in the hall she realized with relief. Evidently she was going to be spared the usual tirade. She moved quickly to the shower, shedding her clothes along the way.

Her breasts still felt full, achy, and the water spraying them brought back the memory of Jed’s silver head bent over her, his hot mouth sucking.… Sweet mercy, her nipples were hardening at the thought, and the throbbing emptiness between her thighs was becoming painful.

She mustn’t remember how she had responded to Jed in those moments on the window seat. She had known from that first day at the cabin that the payment Jed might demand was sexual, and had come to terms with it. But she hadn’t dreamed her own feelings would become involved. Yet was it so wicked that her body had enjoyed what he did to her? She had read that many people could compartmentalize their feelings and perhaps if she concentrated on that she could…

What was she thinking? Through desperation and necessity she had learned at moments of stress to withdraw into her own world, but she had never learned to completely shut away hurt.

She would just have to adjust to the situation. From Jed’s last words it was clear he still had every intention of taking her to bed. If that was to happen, then she must find a way to gain and not lose from the experience.

A child. The thought came like a ray of sunlight. She had always loved children and desperately wanted one of her own but thought she would never have one because she couldn’t bear to be touched. Since Jed had managed to break through that barrier, wasn’t a child a possibility now? A rush of warm contentment went through her at the thought. Yes, she could give Jed what he wanted of her and take something infinitely more precious in return.

A child of her own.

He stood in the middle of the room and she inhaled sharply as she looked at him. It was as if she were staring into the heart of a storm; she could almost feel the swirling turbulence of emotion around him.

“You’re late,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

“I had to wait until Betty—What are—”

“Hush.” He had scooped her up in his arms and was carrying her toward the bed. His face was so close, she could see the dark shadows beneath his eyes, the lines of strain engraved beside his lips. “Don’t say anything.” He put her down on the bed and stood over her, his hands clenched. “Unless it’s no, and then you’d better say it loud, clear, and fast.” He waited for only an instant and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Then, let’s get on with it before I go crazy. Lord, I’m hurting.”

She was hurting too. Every breath was painful and her skin felt hot, tingling as if the nerve
endings were vibrating. “Should I be doing something?”

“The usual.” He was stripping swiftly. “Undress.”

She pulled the chemise over her head and tossed it on the floor. “The boots?”

He straightened, his gaze wandering over her. “You obviously came prepared.”

“It seemed foolish to wear anything beneath the dress when you said you intended—” She stopped, looking at him. Muscular power and masculine arousal. She had never known how beautiful that combination could be until that moment. She moistened her lips. “Should I take off the boots this time?”

“I’ll take them off.” he said thickly. “Right foot.”

She extended it and he slipped one hand beneath her knee while the other cupped the heel of the suede boot. “I understand the back of the knee is supposed to be an erogenous zone.” He gently massaged the soft flesh as he worked the boot off her foot. “Is it?”

A tingling was starting to spread up her thigh. “I think … so.”

He tossed the boot aside and cupped her instep, his thumb running lightly over the sole of her foot. “And here?”

The tingling again; her calf went rigid.

“I see it is.” He put down her foot and stood there, looking down at her, his face contorted as if he were in pain. “After you left yesterday, I called myself all kinds of fool. I was hurting so bad, I almost followed you to the castle. I didn’t give a damn if you were only ‘accepting’ me. Then I
thought ‘No, gain control. Don’t let her do this to you. Wait. Treat her like any other woman.’ ” He jerked off the other boot, parted’ her thighs, and moved between them. “It’s just sex. Foreplay and then …” He laughed harshly as he took her hand and put it over his heart. “Foreplay? Feel me. I’ve barely touched you and I’m about to have a heart attack.”

She experienced a primitive sense of satisfaction as she felt the rapid thunder beneath her palm. “I like it. It makes me feel …”

“Power?” His hand cupped her, and he watched as she arched up off the bed at his touch. “Pleasure?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He was nudging against her. “No foreplay. I can’t take any more. I don’t care if you want me, will you take me?”

“I do want you. I do—”

She smothered a cry as he drove into the heart of her!

He froze above her. “Ysabel?”

Full and yet still empty. Her breath was coming in little pants as she held on to his shoulders. “It’s all right. The pain’s gone. I want …” She moved yearningly, trying to take more, and felt a shudder go through him. “Please.”

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you. You’re too tight.…”

“Please.”

“Lord, don’t—” He exploded, driving, rotating.

Pleasure. Heat. Need.

She found herself whimpering, lifting her hips to meet every thrust, her nails biting into his
shoulders as she tried to get closer, to take more of him.

“Easy.” His lips grazed her forehead. “Slow.”

She couldn’t; the tempo was too intense, the pleasure too heady, the tension building too quickly. “More … please.”

He chuckled. “I’m beginning to like that word.” He turned over so that she was astride him. “All right, hold on, love.”

The next moments were as wild as being caught in a whirlwind. He bucked, moved her, bucked again. Fast, slow, hard, easy, riding the currents, fighting the currents, and all the time the tension growing.

He turned her over again, his hands digging in her hair as he drove deep. His face was twisted, his breath labored. “Ysabel …”

How beautiful her name sounded on his lips, like a clear velvet chord…

The tension broke, splintering, engulfing her.

From somewhere far away, she heard him groan and then he arched his back, his eyes closed. He collapsed on top of her, shuddering.

“Dear Lord,” he muttered.

She was shaking, too, she realized dazedly. “I feel … very weak. Is that a normal reaction?”

“Nothing about this was normal.” His breath was still labored. “It was … mind-boggling.” He paused. “Including the fact that you didn’t have the experience to know what was normal and what wasn’t.” He got off her and sat up. “As I’m aware my father wasn’t into platonic relationships and was as lusty as a bull, I’d be interested
to have an explanation for this phenomenon.”

She didn’t look at him. “Arnold knew he was impotent before our marriage. He had contracted some kind of disease that—”

“No wonder he kept you prisoner here. He wanted to make sure no other man grazed where he couldn’t.” He reached out and possessively cupped her breast in his hand. “I’m not sure I wouldn’t feel the same way. It must have driven him crazy to know you could respond like this and not be able to take advantage of it.”

“I wasn’t … he thought I was cold.”

His eyes widened. “You? Lord, I’ve never known a woman so responsive.”

“It was different with you.”

“Well, you definitely did more than ‘accept’ me.” His eyes narrowed on her face. “Under the circumstances I find that a little unusual. Why?”

“You wanted it.”

He muttered an oath. “No, dammit, it was more than that.”

“You had your reasons and I had mine. I didn’t ask why you wanted me. I don’t care if it was because you only wanted to make love to the Winter Bride.” That wasn’t true, but he must not know how inexplicably painful she found the thought.

“I told you I wasn’t my father,” he said harshly. “ ‘The Winter Bride’ has nothing to do with what happened here today.”

“I don’t believe you.” She met his gaze. “And yes, I had my own reason for coming to your bed, but I have no intention of sharing it with you.”

“And lust has nothing to do with it?”

“Oh yes I told you I wanted you.” She smiled tremulously. “It came as a great sunrise to me.”

He suddenly went still. “How much of a surprise? I assumed you were protected, but I—”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re on the Pill?”

“Isn’t every woman these days?” she asked evasively.

“Not if her husband is impotent.”

“Arnold never wanted to admit his affliction wasn’t only temporary.” At least, that was the truth.

He relaxed. “I couldn’t be happier that he was wrong.” An expression of sensual satisfaction crossed his face. “You were so tight. I felt as if I were a part of you. It was like nothing … Good Lord, you’re
blushing
.”

Her hand flew to her cheek. “It’s an unusual situation for me. I’m a little … unsure.”

His gaze searched her face. “And where did all that infuriating serenity go?”

“I have to work at it and you’re disturbing me. Will you please remove your hand?”

“I like it here.” He gently squeezed her breast and watched with bemusement as it began to swell in his grasp. “I think you like it too.”

“It makes me …” She moistened her lips. “I believe you’re very good at this.”

“Thank you,” he said solemnly. “A man always likes to hear he’s been adequate to the task. Though, taking your inexperience into account. I can’t consider you an authority on the subject.”

She tilted her head. “You’re laughing. I’ve never
seen you really laugh before. It seems a very peculiar time for it.”

“You’re right, this is no time for humor.” He moved over her and parted her thighs. “There are very serious doings in the works.”

“Slut!”

The word jarred Ysabel from the light doze into which she had fallen.

Her lids flew open to see Betty framed in the doorway, her features twisted in rage. “Whore!” She stomped across the room toward the bed. “Get away from him.”

Ysabel instinctively reached out for Jed’s hand.

He sat up in bed, leisurely pulling the coverlet over his hips. “I see the years haven’t taught you courtesy. It’s polite to knock.”

Betty ignored him, her cold gray eyes fastened on Ysabel. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out you were sneaking down here? Mr. Arnold was always afraid of this. He warned me you’d betray him if you got the chance, that I’d have to watch you every minute.” Her gaze turned balefully on Jed. “You had to do it, didn’t you? You always hated
him and what better way to get your revenge than make a whore of his—”

“Easy, Betty.” A steely inflection had entered Jed’s voice. “I’m no longer amused. Suppose you get the hell out of this cottage.”