An Affair Downstairs (12 page)

Once he arrived, he jumped from his horse and ran in, a tremendous weight lifting off his chest when he saw her there, huddled under a tarp in front of the fireplace and a fire she'd apparently given up on starting. Her teeth chattered and she struggled to warm herself, but she seemed none the worse for wear.

“Good God, Alice. I was worried sick.”

She looked at him, taking a minute to find her voice. “I'm not an idiot, Logan. I had the sense to seek shelter when I lost feeling in my hands.”

“You were fool enough to wait too long for Ralston.” In two strides, he was at her side. Without a word, he pried her arms from the tight wrap and examined her fingers. “It looks like circulation is coming back. No frostbite. Good thinking to come here.”

“You said you'd been working on the place. It was my nearest hope.”

He looked into the fireplace, recently redone in stone, where he'd left some stacked wood. “I'll light this. A moment.”

He bent to retrieve more of the wood he'd meant to build with—he could get more—and stacked it nearby for burning. He'd left a flint on the mantel, but she must have overlooked it. Within minutes, he had a full, burning blaze.

“Oh, that's heaven. You're an angel,” Alice said.

He was a man in love. He recognized the symptoms at once now that fear of losing her had been added to the mix. Damn, how had it happened? How could he stop it? If it was confined to a limb, he would cut it off in one fell swoop before the contagion spread. But it ran through him, his very lifeblood, and he could no more drain himself of love for her than end his life itself.

“You stay here by the fire. I'm going to tend my horse.”

“What will you do with him?”

“The barn has been boarded up well, no loose holes. I've got some old blankets there. I'll dry him, brush him down, and cover him up. Without the wind howling in at him, he should survive the night comfortably enough.”

He went and returned as fast as he could, bringing some extra blankets back with him.

“They smell of horse, but we should be able to ignore that soon enough. It really doesn't matter as long as we're warm again. The snow is falling faster, and the wind has whipped up to a frenzy.”

“What will we do?”

He shrugged. “Stay the night here. At least through the worst of it. Finch knows I've come out to look for you, but I advised him not to tell your sister. It wouldn't do to have the whole house out on a night like this.”

“Which is exactly what Sophia would do if she feared for my safety. She'd send out every last available man and possibly some of the women.”

“Exactly. But you're safe now. Together, we'll brave the elements. Or, whichever elements threaten us in here.”

“It's a sound structure. I can see where you've been passing the hours when I couldn't find you anywhere on Thornbrook grounds.”

“Not enough time recently. Roof, windows, walls. This is the original floor.” He gestured to the smooth stones beneath their feet. “I rebuilt the hearth, planning to keep warm enough while I worked through the winter. The top level is barely framed, the kitchen is gutted, and, well—you can see there's still much to be done.”

“But we're out of the wind and snow, and we have a fire. Tonight, it's all I could ask. Well, maybe not all. Those horsey blankets are certainly warmer than this.”

She tossed the tarp at his feet. He was concerned to see that she still wore her wet clothes. He should have a noticed when he took her hands earlier, but he had been more concerned for her immediate safety.

“Lady Alice, what's this? I thought you were the authority on thawing snowmen. You're soaked. Remove your clothes.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It's what you had me do. Remove your wet clothes immediately. We can't have you catching your death.”

She met his gaze, all too eager to accept the challenge. She didn't cower or try to hide. She stood ramrod straight in front of him and undid her buttons one at a time. Once her coat was undone, she tossed it aside and started on her blouse, never taking her gaze from his.

“I'm so frozen. You'll have to help me.” In only her underthings, she crooked a finger and beckoned him nearer. When he was close enough, she took his hand and placed it on her stomach, over her corset. “Is this damp, or just cold?”

“Damp,” he answered, his voice hoarse. “It will have to come off. All of it.”

She nodded agreement and turned, her back to him, her pert backside tempting him. “Unlace me, please.”

His hands trembled as he obeyed her, the confining garment finally falling away, leaving only her chemise and petticoats, woolen stockings, and pantalets, he saw, once she turned to face him and slid the petticoat down her narrow hips. The pantalets lasted only a second longer, and then her russet thatch was exposed, glowing like a flame against her snow-white flesh. His breath caught. Then she gripped the bottom of her chemise and slowly peeled upward until her breasts bounced free, two peach-tipped mounds of glory.

“You're beautiful, Alice. Exquisite.”

“And you're going to catch your death. Your turn. The snow that covered you has melted and now you're a wet mess, too. Off with your clothes, every last stitch.”

He could hardly deny the naked goddess before him. Holding her gaze, he stripped, losing his overcoat and coat, unbuttoning his shirt and his trousers, and letting them ease down his hips. She watched, eyes wide, while he removed every last stitch and finally stood facing her, as naked as she was.

“This won't do,” he said, stepping toward her and taking her in his arms. “We need to warm each other.” Her skin felt so wondrous against him, her breasts, the nipples pebbling to scratch his chest. He wrapped a blanket around them and eased her down in front of the fire.

“Better,” she said. “I'm feeling very warm now.”

Facing each other, his gaze held hers. And in that moment, he was lost.

He kissed her. Softly. Slowly. Savoring the feel and taste of her. The kiss grew more insistent, and his senses came back to him. He stopped.

“Stay here, in the blanket. I'll be right back.”

He extricated himself to lay their clothes out closer to the fire so that they would dry faster. He draped the tarp over the blanket for extra warmth, and slid back in beside her.

“Necessity,” he said, more to himself than to her. “It's necessity.”

Deep down, he wondered: If he'd tried to get her home, would they have safely reached their destination? Chances are, they would have. But there was an equal and worse chance that the snow had fallen too deep, the horse would tire too quickly, and the bitter cold would overwhelm them. They could have arrived home without perishing along the way, certainly, but what of the horse? And there was an honest risk of lost limbs from frostbite. He was doing the right thing, he tried to reassure himself. But it was impossible to trust his instincts when every urge drove him toward the woman in his arms. Alice. So close, and yet…

He turned, his back to her. It was the only way he could control his desire. But she curved her body around his, embracing him.

“I know you're trying not to touch me, Logan, and I admire your restraint. I'm sorry if being so close to me is testing you. But I need your warmth. You understand. Necessity, as you said.”

“Necessity,” he agreed. “It's best if we try to get some sleep while our clothes dry. With any luck, the storm will let up and we can dress and try to get home.”

“In the dark? It's probably best we stay the night.”

“I can find my way in the dark. I know these woods like I know my own home.”

She laughed. “I managed to invade your space there, too. Try as you might, you can't get away from me, Logan.”

“God knows, I've tried, Lady Alice.” He laughed along with her. “Good night.”

He prayed he would find peace enough to sleep with the feel of her body against him.

Alice had no idea what time it was when she woke. It remained dark and the fire still blazed, leaving her to doubt she'd slept long. But she had slept. Logan's breathing remained steady.

“Are you awake?” she whispered, propping up on an elbow and leaning over him. She doubted he would answer if he were. His eyes remained closed and his mouth slightly open. She was used to seeing it in that hard, grim line. He wasn't a conventionally handsome man, but his rough-hewn features appealed to her all the more for his lack of perfection. At rest, he looked almost angelic, all the tension drained out of his features.

He'd done an admirable job of keeping his hands off her against all temptation. She knew he was tempted, or else she would be beside herself with the impossibility of her situation. He'd kissed her, and he'd turned from her. She doubted it was easy for a man to deny himself, but Logan was nothing if not determined and dutiful. She admired him for his tenacity. She might even be more than a little in love with him, but she knew the impossibility of that situation. Even if she loved him more than life itself, she could never marry him, an estate manager, and live in the cottage on her sister's estate. For eternity.

She had complete respect for the man and his position. It didn't matter what anyone thought. If her choosing an estate manager would be nothing more than a shock or disappointment to her parents, she would probably resign herself to making it a reality. But to be rooted in one spot? It would never do. She had her dreams of adventure, and she wasn't prepared to sacrifice them for anything or anyone. Not even for love. There could be no love, only the physical act. She wouldn't get a better chance than this, a naked man at her side, and she wasn't about to let it slip away.

Of course, she would have to convince him that his job was not at risk. No one need ever know. There were ways to be careful about things. She'd read about them in Eve Thorne's
Kama
Sutra
. Two consenting adults alone in the wilderness, what was the harm?

She got up to put more wood on the fire. Once she woke him, she wanted nothing to disturb them. She shifted the blankets so that she could get in on the other side, facing him. With one arm around him and leaning on the other, she raked her nails lightly along his back, enjoying the intimate contact. Nothing had ever felt as good as Logan's skin flush against hers. How much better would it feel to have him inside her?

But first, there might be some pain. She'd steeled herself to the possibility. He was larger than she'd imagined. If she hadn't read up a bit on the subject, she might be afraid that he would never fit. Armed with knowledge and a faith in nature, she jostled him a little to wake him up.

“Logan,” she said, her face so close to his that their noses touched. “Logan, I'm cold.”

Her breasts were flush against his solid chest and her nipples reacted to the contact, becoming hard as pebbles. She wrapped a leg around him so that they were as close as they possibly could be everywhere. His cock hardened against her hip, but she stifled the urge to trail her hand down and explore. For now. Though, if he failed to wake…

“Logan?”

His eyes shot open, but he didn't back away. His arm curved around her and he pulled her closer, perhaps a protective instinct. “What's wrong? Are you unwell?”

“I'm cold. I thought I would be warmer if we got closer.”

“Closer.” More awake now, he eased away from her. “I think we're close enough. I—”

“Logan.” She cupped his whisker-roughened cheek in her hand. “I want you to make love to me. Please.”

He sat up suddenly, baring his sculpted torso to the night. “No. We can't.”

“We can. Why not? I want to. No one needs to know.” Her gaze trailed over his broad shoulders and down his rippled abdomen.

He ran a hand through mussed dark hair. His every muscle tensed. “You will know. I will know. Your future husband—”

“There won't be one. I don't want to marry. I've told you.” She sat up, too, damn the cold. She had to plead her case. “But that doesn't mean I don't want to know what love is. Physical love. I should get to experience it once, at least. And I want you, Logan.”

“Why, Alice? Why me?”

She reached for his hand and laced her fingers with his. “Because you're wise and responsible, and you're my friend. I wouldn't trust just anyone. But I know I can trust you. And I know you like me, despite your attempts to push me away.”

“That hasn't happened in far too long. My mistake, perhaps. I should have made it clearer to you, Alice, that—” He looked in her eyes and he froze. Whatever he'd planned to say, he lost his words for a moment, and then averted his eyes and forced them out. “It can't be like that between us. I'm a man and you're a girl, and we've already gone much too far.”

He propped his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands.

“I'm not a girl.” She kneeled next to him, her hands at her sides. “I'm a woman. Look at me.”

“I'm not looking.” He kept his head down.

She laughed, not out of humor but from sheer nerves. “You can't say that you don't want me. Please, don't lie to me. We've been so close.”

“No need for lies. You're beautiful, Alice. Exquisite. If circumstances were different—”

“Circumstances are in our favor. Don't you see? We're alone. No one will ever know, and why should they? I would never speak a word against you, and there's no need for any further attachment between us. We're friends. It's enough for me, and I suspect quite enough for you. And I want to do this. I really, really want to make love to someone I know and trust. You wouldn't have me go to someone else with such a request, would you? One of the stablehands or a footman? A stranger at a tavern?”

“You wouldn't.” He looked up at last, concern in his narrowed gaze. “It would be foolish, possibly even dangerous.”

“Exactly. But I will know what it is to make love, and I won't choose someone who would only insist on marriage first. You know how determined I can be.”

“God, Alice.” He reached for her, tangling his fingers in her tousled hair. “Lovely, foolish Alice.”

Sensing her victory, she leaned into him, pressing her body against him. “Logan, yes. Please.”

“Alice.” All tenderness gone, he took her roughly by the arms and rolled her under him on the blankets. He shook his head. “I should have scared this out of you a long time ago. I'm not a man to be trifled with.”

“Of course not. I'm not trifling.” She wrapped her arms around him and brought her lips to the tender vein that pulsed at the base of his neck, kissing him there as she shifted her hips beneath his weight.

“Dammit, Alice.” Savagely, he jerked her arms up and pinned them over her head. Losing control, she bucked against him, desperate to feel him at the core of her, spreading her legs around him and pulling him tighter against her.

“Please, Logan,” she begged. He couldn't hold her arms and push her legs off him at once, though she could see him trying to find a way in his mind. “Take me. Ravish me.”

The need inside transformed her into a monster—greedy, fierce, and desperate. She'd always imagined lovemaking to be tender and sweet. The ferocity rising inside her took her by surprise. She wanted him to do his worst. She fed on the roughness. God help her.

She wiggled under him, the limited movement excruciating.

“You're testing me.” He bit his lip, his struggle to control her proving futile. He could hold her arms, but he couldn't stop her from moving her hips.

“I'm needing you. Inside me.”

He let go of her hands and extricated himself, a sigh escaping him as he sat beside her. She sat up, refusing to be put off. On her knees, she rose up to meet his lips, kissing him with all her might until he kissed her back, his tongue in her mouth, questing. She sucked his lower lip and rose up taller on her knees, offering her breasts.

His hands found the small of her back and urged her to him, his lips closing on a nipple. He slicked his tongue around the tip and drew it into his mouth and out, his teeth nipping the bud so that she felt the sharp tang of pain that she craved. A hand slipped between her thighs and he rubbed her in a steady rhythm that she matched, riding his hand until he slipped a finger inside her.

“Yes,” she called out on a moan, urging him deeper. He added a finger and continued to stroke her fiery nub with his thumb. She fell to the blankets and spread her legs wider. He fell atop her, his hands parting her wider.

“Remember, this is what you wanted,” he said before lowering himself, his gaze never moving from her. “It might hurt.”

He was all tenderness now, entering her slowly. Welcome as the pain had been only a moment ago, the intensity of it took her by surprise and she gasped. He froze.

She cupped his buttocks. “No. Go on. Please. All the way.”

“All the way,” he repeated, easing completely inside her.

She released her breath, the pain more bearable until it was barely anything at all. Her muscles clenched around him. “Yes. Oh, yes.”

He stroked her cheek, her forehead, her hair, until she began to move with him again, savoring the feel of him, every inch. Their urgency increased as they rocked faster, in unison. His fingers laced with hers. The fire flamed up inside her, spreading and filling her with overwhelming heat, lightning in a bottle.

He called her name and the bottle broke, shattering around her in shimmering fragments that danced behind her dazed eyes.

“Logan.” He remained atop her, fingers laced with hers, until their ragged breathing steadied.

With a sigh on his lips, he rolled off her to sit beside her as his breathing returned to normal. She placed a hand on his back. He hadn't wanted to do it, she knew, guilt starting to rise. She'd pushed him until he'd had little choice. For a man who valued his principles, he must feel some sense of disappointment in himself. Her temporary feeling of triumph dissolved to remorse.

“It is what I wanted, Logan. I thank you. One day, you'll see that you did me an incredible honor. I'll always treasure the memory.”

He turned to her with a smile that did not look at all forced. “I hope you never regret it. I wish I could say that I did, but…I find that I don't. You've reminded me what it is to be truly alive. I think I'd almost forgotten.”

His candor surprised her and flooded her with relief. No regret. No remorse. He got up and walked to the door.

“Logan?” she called after him, worrying when she heard the sound of the door opening and relieved when it closed again a minute later. He padded back across the floor with bare feet, his hands full of snow. He placed it in a small pile by the fire, then ripped a corner off the blanket with his bare hands. She had no idea what he had in mind until his hands were on her, gently smoothing over her feet and legs with the damp cloth. He inched up toward her mound and tenderly rubbed between her legs, cleaning all traces of him from her. The simple act was so stirring, so achingly sweet and considerate, that she found herself on the brink of tears.

This was Logan Winthrop, the kind of man who would always care for others before he took time for himself. And she loved him. But she had to let him go. Nothing could change the fact that he would always be her first lover, and she was glad. She'd chosen well.

He covered her with the blanket, wrapped himself in the tarp, and stood to check on their clothes. “Almost dry. Another hour or so.”

“Come back to bed.” She patted the blankets beside her. “Even with the fire, it's still cold. We'll be warmer together.”

“I'm not the kind of man who can take intimacy lightly.” He sat beside her. “You said that you don't want to marry, but I will marry you, Alice, if your sister grants her approval. I know she was hoping for a title and a grand estate, but she'll always have you close, at least.”

She smiled and reached out for him. “Ever dutiful. Of course you would marry me. Thank you for saying so. No, Logan. I'm sorry. It's a lovely offer, and if I ever planned to marry, maybe. But I meant what I said. I have no intention of ever marrying. I have an inheritance, not large but quite enough, and I plan to see the world.”

“You really don't plan to marry?” He sounded honestly surprised, like her choice had never occurred to him as a genuine possibility. “Never?”

“I don't want a husband. I have my independence, so why would I? It's why I wanted to do this. I really wanted to know love once, and I'm so glad I've done it with you.”

He still looked shocked. “I see.”

She laughed. “Am I too modern for you? I'm sorry. But you don't want to marry me, either. Not really. We're much alike that way, happiest on our own.”

“Are you? Are you really happy?”

“I am.”

“I'm glad for you, then.”

“We're still friends?” She raised a brow. “Your friendship means the world to me. I hope that in doing this, we haven't lost that.”

“Friends.” He nodded and slipped into the blankets beside her. “Though, I've never had a friend who felt so good beside me.”

“Get some rest, Logan. I have a feeling you'll be very busy come morning.”

***

Rest? As if he could rest knowing he'd taken her innocence, and she had no intention of marrying him. Not that he wanted to get married. Did he? No. She was right. She was better off on her own. He didn't rule out the fact that she would find someone more suitable and change her mind. But perhaps he could breathe a little easier knowing he hadn't damaged her, to her way of thinking. Alice was the kind of woman who would not rest until she got what she wanted. She wanted to make love to him, but she didn't want his love. So be it.

It was a beautiful dream, though, Alice in his bed every morning, greeting each day with her ebullient laughter. She'd given him a reprieve from the darkness he carried inside him. It was time that he stopped letting the terrible weight of his past drag him down. But how could he see Alice every day and resist the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless? He turned to face her, sweet Alice, her back to him, already asleep. He put an arm around her and pulled her close, determined to make the most of the little time they had left.