Courting Claudia (15 page)

Everything made sense now. Everything was more complicated now. How was Derrick supposed to explain to his wife that her father was the man responsible for all these crimes?

He couldn't. She wouldn't believe him. Her loyalty to her father was too strong. Derrick needed to wait until he knew Claudia's loyalty to him was secure. To see her father for what he was, she needed some distance. But before she could do that, she needed to learn to trust herself.

Taking Claudia to the country to keep her mind off her father and on her new husband was the only solution. Teaching her to trust him would be easy, Derrick realized. It was teaching her to trust herself that would prove his greatest challenge.

She'd had it practically beaten into her that she was always wrong, no matter the circumstances.

She needed to let herself go, to give in to her feelings and her desires. Once she learned to do that, she would learn to trust herself.

Then he could risk sharing the truth about her father.

T
wo hours later Claudia found herself in the carriage on the way to Derrick's country estate. She had packed as quickly as she could, eager to see her new home. She'd only seen the house from a distance the day they rode, but if it was in as good shape as the stable, it would be a palace.

“We need to have a conversation about the kind of wife I expect you to be.”

Married less than two days, and she'd already done something wrong. Why else would he bring this up?

“I realize you were raised to believe that wives are supposed to behave in a certain fashion.”

“Yes. My mother taught me a lot before she died, and my father continued that education as much as he was able.”

“I want you to forget everything they told you. This is our marriage, and we'll live it the way we choose.”

“But—”

“I know what kind of wife they instructed you to be, and that's not what I want. Mousy, quiet, and without opinions are traits that do not suit you. You're a passionate woman, and I expect to see that fire.” He met her gaze. “In the bedroom and out.”

“But what if we disagree about something?”

“Then we shall argue about it.”

She shook her head. “I don't think arguing solves anything.”

“Perhaps not, but after the argument comes the making up, and that is what I'll look forward to.” He winked at her. “Perhaps I'll even start arguments for that very reason.”

“You wouldn't.”

“Is that a challenge?”

She shook her head. “No.”

He just sat there grinning at her.

“What?” she asked.

“You're really quite beautiful. I hadn't thought so at first.”

She frowned. “I'm not certain that was a compliment,” she said.

“I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I always knew you were an attractive woman, but you're more beautiful than I'd first realized.”

She knew her mouth hung open, and she tried to close it, but couldn't. So instead she dug for something clever to say. “You no longer have to court me to gain my favor. I'm your wife. You can cease your silly compliments. Frankly, you were never very good at them.”

He cocked one eyebrow. “Indeed? I seem to recall my wretched excuse for poetry being quite effective that day in the garden.”

It had in fact been quite effective. Enough to lure her into that first kiss.

“It's rather unfair,” he said. “The entire courting situation. Women do nothing save look pretty, and men must put forth all the effort.”

“Until there is a wedding, and then the women do the work for the rest of their lives.”

He narrowed his eyes. “That might be true. But only partially. Courting is difficult.”

“How would you know? You were only pretending to court me.” The truth of that still stung, but she hoped that joking about it would lessen the pain.

“Touché.” He placed a kiss on her hand. “I did
give it my full attention. My intentions were not entirely noble, but I never intended to hurt you, and I meant everything I said to you.”

“I might be persuaded to believe that. But I will have to deliberate about it further.”

“Fair enough. In the meantime, why don't you give it a try.”

“What?”

“Courting. Let's see how you would do if the shoe were on the other foot. How would you lure me in, get me interested in you?”

She shrugged. “That's a silly game.”

“But it will be fun. Or do you not think you can do it?”

Two weeks ago, she would have faltered under such a request, but she was a different woman now. Stronger, not necessarily bold, but bolder than she'd ever been in her life. Trying her hand at courting might be fun. She'd often daydreamed about the perfect courtship.

“Very well, but no laughing at me.”

“I promise.”

“I suppose I would tell you that I find you very handsome.”

He nodded. Giving her no indication as to whether that would win him over.

“In particular your eyes. Intense and haunting, eyes that keep me up at night, eyes that feel as if
they can peer into my very soul. Sometimes with merely a glance you send shivers dancing across my skin.”

He folded his arms across his chest, and his face settled into an expression that very much resembled a cat who'd devoured a mouse.

“There are other aspects of your appearance that I find attractive, but one must not strictly focus on the physical attributes. I find you intelligent and respect the way you run your business. Your dedication to bringing news to those who typically cannot afford newspapers is quite noble. It is one of the reasons I accepted the position. When I saw the advertisement, I knew I must apply. I never dreamed you would hire me, but figured I stood a better chance if you and everyone else thought I was a man.”

He gave her a smile.

Her heart flipped in her chest. “Gracious, and that smile. I hate to admit how you affect me. It's not like me to be so bold.”

“Come here.” He leaned across the carriage and pulled her across his lap. “You be as bold as you like. You affect me, too.”

He pulled her face to his and kissed her, his mouth slanting across hers in a full assault on her defenses. She opened to him and swept her tongue against his. She'd never tire of kissing him.

“I want you now,” he said.

His hands slid under her skirts, and he found her through the slit in her drawers. His finger entered her, and she released a moan into his mouth. He moved his finger within her, until she could feel the moisture between her legs. All the while, he continued his assault with his mouth. He nipped and licked, until she could no longer focus on anything but the feelings he created. Then he withdrew and began undoing his pants.

“We can't.”

“Why not?”

“We're in a carriage?”

“We're married, and we can do this anytime we like. Anyplace we want. Even in a carriage. Besides, no one can see us. Trust me.” His eyes bored into her, and she realized she did. Despite his not being completely honest with her in the beginning. He'd promised they'd have a truthful marriage, and she believed him. She completely trusted him.

He finished removing enough of his clothing so that his member sprang up between them. She hadn't seen it the night before, and now that she had, she was amazed it had fit inside her.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

She could have lied. Averted her eyes and said nothing, but he'd said he liked her to be bold. And truth be told, she liked being bold. It was exhila-
rating. So she swallowed her nerves, looked him right in the eyes, and answered.

“Your body.”

“What about my body?”

“I'm puzzled by how everything works. How we fit.”

“We're a perfect fit,” he said, then he lowered her hips down until she felt the tip of him enter her. Then he stopped.

“What's the matter?” she asked.

“Nothing. I want you to be in charge.”

“I can't. I don't know what to do.”

“Yes, you do. You simply do what feels right.”

“But what about you?”

“Whatever you do will feel good to me.”

He held eye contact while she slowly lowered herself on him. He filled her, and the discomfort was there again, but only in the background. She stayed still to let her body adjust to the invasion, all the while looking at him. It was shockingly intimate to look him in the eyes while his body was joined with her. Almost overwhelmingly so. She felt tears pull at her eyes, so she closed them and began to move.

Tentative at first, she rocked slowly, until her body hit a rhythm. She moved her hips forward, loving the feel of him buried inside her.

“Look at me, Claudia.”

She opened her eyes and met his gaze, but stopped her movement. His brown eyes had darkened several shades, appearing almost black now.

“I wanted to watch you last night.” He picked up her hips and moved her up and down a few times. Pleasure etched his features. “I love the feel of you.”

She wanted to close her eyes again, or lean into him, so that he couldn't see her. But she enjoyed watching him. The intensity in his eyes touched her deep inside. He was a man of great feeling; she could see that now. Perhaps he could grow to love her.

“Move, Claudia.”

She chewed on her lip.

“Don't be embarrassed. I want to watch you.”

He reached into the bodice of her dress and cupped her breast. She arched against him and began her movement again. A slow, steady rhythm.

He rolled her nipple between his fingers, and she cried out.

“That's it. Just let go of your mind and feel. Do you like this?” He cupped her breast again.

She nodded, unable to say anything.

“I want to see your breasts.” He unbuttoned the front of her dress, and the material sagged, revealing her corset and chemise.

It took some maneuvering, but he managed to loosen the material enough so he could release her breasts from their confines.

“Beautiful.” He leaned in and brought a nipple into his mouth and suckled hard.

She bucked against him, trying to reach release. While he kissed her breast, his hand reached beneath her skirts and found the sensitive nub. He rubbed it gently, moving in a slow circle.

“You're almost there; can you feel it?”

“Yes.”

“Don't hold back, Claudia. Ride as hard as you like.”

She did as she was told and increased her movements. Faster and faster, harder and harder. She threw her head back and moaned loudly.

“I'm coming with you,” he said.

And just when the waves of pleasure hit her, she felt him spill into her, and he cried out her name. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as he continued to shudder.

She leaned into him. She kissed him softly on the neck and then the chin.

“You're amazing,” he said.

“I never knew.”

He chuckled. “That you're amazing?”

“No. That this could be pleasurable.”

“It would be quite unfair were it only pleasur
able for men. Considering the women actually go through childbirth.”

She smiled. He had such a unique way of looking at things. She inhaled his scent, earthy and male mixed with the musky smell of their lovemaking.

“We'll be at the house soon.” His voice rumbled against her. “I hope you like it.”

“I know I will.”

“S
o that was the grand tour.” Derrick led her into the front parlor, which was richly decorated in burgundy and gold. It had always been one of his favorite rooms. It was so warm. Shortly after he'd bought the house, he'd decided that should he ever marry again and have a family, this would be the room where they would celebrate Christmas. He sat next to her on the settee, then leaned back. “What do you think?”

“The house, like this room, is really quite beautiful. Very well taken care of considering only a handful of servants live here full-time.”

“I visit often, at least once a month to see that everything is running smoothly.”

She rubbed her hand across the brocade fabric of the settee. “Did you select the decorations and color schemes yourself?”

“I decided to stay with the original decor, but had some pieces of furniture restuffed and upholstered. I liked the look and wanted to maintain it.”

“How did you acquire the house?”

“I bought it. The Earl of Limewood wanted to live full-time in London and had no heirs for his estate, so he decided to sell it. I'd been looking for someplace in the country where I could get away when needed, so when this property came available, I bought it.”

“It's perfect.”

“I want to show you the grounds as well. I know you saw them on our ride, but now this is your home too. I had the cook pack us a lunch. We can eat it outside.”

“A picnic?”

“Yes. I believe everything is waiting for us by the pond.”

She smiled up at him, and his heart nearly stopped. Lately everything she did gave him pause. Making love to her had not quenched his desire for her even a fraction; if anything, he wanted her more.

But she still was holding back, nervous that he might not approve or perhaps that he would reject her. He wasn't sure what stopped her, but he intended to change it. The carriage had been the closest he'd come to seeing her while making love, and they'd both been fully clothed. He had plans to remedy that this afternoon, but it would be a challenge.

He threaded his fingers with hers as he led her outside and across the gently sloping hill. They walked in silence, and he waited for an awkward feeling to settle over him, urging him to break the reverie. But it did not come. Instead, he found a comfortable silence between them as they crossed his lush green lawn. They reached an area covered in trees, and he spotted the pond glistening ahead. Beneath the willow tree, a blanket was spread with the food for their picnic.

“It's wonderful,” she said.

He helped her take a seat on the blanket, then sat across from her.

He unpacked their lunch and poured her a glass of wine, then proceeded to prepare plates of bread, jam, and cheese.

“This is my favorite part of the entire estate. I suppose it was the main reason I bought it.”

“It's very peaceful.” She took a sip of her wine. “Like a painting come to life.”

He held a piece of bread out to her, and she reached for it, but he pulled it back. “No. Take a bite.”

“You wish to feed me?” she asked, clearly surprised.

“I do.” Again he leaned toward her with the bite of bread, and she hesitated, but leaned in and took the morsel.

He held out a piece of cheese for her, and she took it, her lips brushing against his fingers. He dipped his finger in the marmalade.

“Are you going to smear that on some bread?” she asked.

“No.” He held his finger out to her. “Lick it off.”

Her eyes widened. “You want me to lick that marmalade off your finger?”

“Scandalous, isn't it?”

Try as she might, she lost whatever battle she fought in her mind and rewarded him with a devilish little grin. He was eroding her defenses. His plan was working.

She leaned forward, wrapped her perfect pink lips around his finger, closed her eyes, and then gently sucked the jam off his finger. She was wearing him down as well. He didn't know if he could wait to complete his plan. He wanted her now. Beneath him, squirming with pleasure.

He pulled off his shoes. “Today there are no
worries about appointments or propriety. We are going to swim.”

“Right now?”

“Yes, now.”

“I don't think so.”

“Why? The pond isn't that deep.” He tugged her right foot out from underneath her skirts and began unlacing her boot. He pulled it off, then reached beneath her skirts, undid her garter, and rolled her stocking off.

“Derrick, honestly,” she said, while swatting uselessly at his hands.

He ignored her protests and removed her left boot and stocking.

“We don't have the proper attire for swimming.”

“We don't need them.” He stood and shrugged out of his jacket. He began removing his trousers when she suddenly jumped to her feet.

“You don't intend to swim in your drawers, do you?”

“Of course not. I intend to swim in the nude.”

“You'll freeze.”

“Not this late in the day. The sun has warmed the pond nicely. And I have plans to keep myself warm.”

She frowned, thought for a moment, then concluded. “Swimming for exercise? I have heard that is quite popular with men.”

“That's not what I meant.” He held his hand out to her. “Come with me.”

She shook her head. “No, I couldn't.”

“Of course you can. There are no more could nots or should nots. With me, you are free. There is no one here but us.”

He pulled her close and kissed her, putting as much passion as he could in it to arouse her. She clung to him and released soft whimpers.

“Take my shirt off.”

Her eyes flew open.

“Here, I'll get you started.” He unfastened the first two buttons, then placed her hand on the third. He grabbed her hands and put them on the next button. “I need to know you want me, Claudia. As much as I want you.”

She licked her lips and swallowed. Carefully she released one button, then another, until the material gaped, and all the buttons were undone.

“Now pull it off me.”

She pushed the material off his shoulders. Her small hands brushed against his skin. He closed his eyes, enjoying her touch.

“Now, my drawers.”

Her eyes widened, and she took a step back.

“You've touched me before, Claudia. You can do this.” He guided her hand to the front flap of his drawers. She undid the buttons quickly, and he
felt the sun heat his backside as the silk slid down his legs.

He pulled her to him and kissed her again, his erection pressed between them. He wanted to lay her down on the blanket, toss her skirts up, and bury himself inside her. But he needed to be patient.

“Look at me, Claudia.”

She met his gaze.

“No, look at my body.”

Her eyes traveled the length of him, all the way down, then trailed back up and lingered at his middle.

“Do you see how much I want you?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Do you want me?”

“Yes.”

“Then show me. Show me how much you want me.” With that, he turned and waded into the pond. The water lapped around him as he moved out to the middle. He turned around to face her, and she still stood on the blanket watching him.

“Take your clothes off, Claudia. Come and join me.”

He had no way of knowing whether this plan would work, but he knew she wanted him. He just hoped it was enough to throw her fears aside and join him in the water.

“I want to see you.”

“No you don't,” she said. “You won't like what you see.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I've seen myself.”

“I don't think it's fair for you to judge what I will and won't find attractive. I think you're beautiful.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head.

“Claudia, I need you. Take one thing off at a time. Start with your dress. Excellent choice, selecting one that buttons down the front.”

“You learn to dress yourself when you don't have a lady's maid.”

“The dress. Please, do this for me.”

She eyed him for a moment, then did as he asked. The garment fell at her feet in a heap, and she stood wearing her petticoat and corset. His pulse quickened. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly above her corset. He longed to release her from all her constraints, the tangible ones as well as the emotional.

“Your petticoat. That can't be comfortable.”

“Not so much,” she said with a hint of a smile, “but certainly better than the corset.”

“Then remove it.”

It took her a while to unlace it, but when she finally got it undone, she visibly relaxed. No doubt the damned thing was cutting off some of her air.

“You're so beautiful. Keep going, my love, let yourself go.”

She chewed at her lip, then turned to face the opposite direction. She pulled off her chemise, then turned back around with her arms crossed on her chest, blocking his view. The pressure from her arms smashed her breasts against her.

“Move your arms.”

A blush crept up her neck and stained her cheeks. She closed her eyes and dropped her hands to her side. Her breasts were magnificent, large and round with a pale dusting of pink at the centers. Her nipples rose proudly. Red marks streaked down her abdomen where the corset bones had pressed into her too tightly.

His heart thrummed wildly against the cage of his chest. A surge of lust hit him forcefully, followed by an equally powerful surge of protectiveness. She was his, and he'd be damned if anyone, especially her father, hurt her again.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” he said.

She opened her eyes, but did not look at him.

“You've only your drawers left. Take them off and join me. Feel the water slippery against your skin. There's nothing like it in the world.”

With almost a visible surge of determination, she peeled the drawers from her body. The trian
gle of golden hair glistened in the sunlight. Her stomach was not flat, and this was obviously the source of her anxiety. Her waist was not excessively narrow, and her hips were rounder than was fashionable, but to him, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

His breath caught in his throat. He'd never want another woman as long as she was with him. She was like a golden goddess released from an Italian Renaissance painting.

“Claudia, look at me.”

She didn't move.

“Please.”

Her eyes met his, and he saw the shimmer of tears edging her eyes. “You're perfect. Now come here.”

She came into the pond and stood before him.

He wiped a tear from her cheek. “Thank you. I know that was difficult. But honest, I think you're perfect.” He pulled her to him and hugged her, feeling the warmth of her skin pressed against his.

“How does the water feel?”

She gave him a weak smile. “Strange. A little cold.”

He scooped water, then poured it against her chest. She inhaled sharply, and her breasts tightened. He cupped them, reveling in the weight of them.

“You have the most magnificent breasts I've ever seen.”

“They're too large.”

He smiled at her. “Not for me.”

“You don't have to pack them around all day.”

“No, but I would if you asked me to.”

She looked up at him with just a slight movement of her eyes, a glance so subtly seductive he would have thought she'd practiced it. But he knew better.

She really was beautiful, in such an unassuming way it had caught him off guard. She stood before him, water dripping off her perfect breasts, with desire blatant in her eyes. He put his hands at her waist and felt her stiffen.

“Today I want to touch you everywhere. You've let me see you, now trust me.”

He kissed her in the hollow of her collarbone, lapping the water droplets off her skin. From her waist, he moved one hand to her hip and then over to her stomach. She flinched beneath his touch, trying to disguise her imperfection. She wanted to be beautiful and desirable for him, and it made him want her more.

Her flesh was soft, and she closed her eyes as he moved from her stomach into the curls at the juncture of her thighs. He'd never touched a woman in the water. It was invigorating, daring,
and a little bit naughty—something he hadn't felt in years.

He continued his kisses on her neck and breasts, while his fingers explored her folds. She was hot and wet, and he groaned from the feel of her.

“I've got to have you now.”

“Yes.”

He lifted her and brought her closer. “Wrap your legs around me.”

She did, and he set her down, inching her onto his length. It didn't take either of them long to reach a climax. He cried out her name as he thrust the last few times into her.

It had never been with another woman the way it was with Claudia. His desire for her never wavered. She met his passion with a fervor he had not known a woman could possess. It was as if they were designed to love only each other, as if their bodies were created to fit each other perfectly.

She laid her head on his shoulder, her legs still wrapped around his waist, his member still buried within her.

“I will never tire of making love to you,” he told her.

She gave him a shy smile. “Nor I of you. It is like my body craves you now, like a lush with his drink.”

Her body craved him, but did her heart want him? Would she choose him when the truth came out?

“Do you promise that you're not disgusted by my body?”

“I promise. I love your body. It's perfect.”

He set her down, then grabbed her hand, and they walked to shore. Water drops scattered across their bodies as they lay on the blanket.

“We'll let the sun dry us, then we can dress and return to the house.”

A few of her ringlets had escaped their confines during their lovemaking and now sat in tight, wet coils on her neck. He lay on his back and pulled her so that she partially lay on top of him. She put her chin in the hollow spot of his chest. Something swelled in his chest. It was powerful to see someone in such an intimate state. She looked the very picture of a sated woman, and in that moment, he knew he would never regret marrying her.