Desire Me Now (15 page)

She couldn’t say how long their bodies moved together, but the water cooled enough
that goose bumps rose along her arms and legs. Nick gently bit her shoulder and must
have noticed that her skin was chilled.

He lifted them both from the tub, sloshing water around them and on the floor as he
stepped onto the marble tiles. He remained buried deep inside her. Arms wrapped tight
around his shoulders and ankles locked behind his back, she looked into his eyes and
found herself breathless by the possessive determination in his gaze. It was a look
that matched his earlier declaration; it said she belonged to him.

When she looked at the image they made in the mirror behind them, she could see a
puzzle of scars crisscrossing Nick’s back. She lowered one of her hands to touch the
raised welts. She didn’t know what to say when she looked back into his eyes, questions
surely clear all over her face.

“Another time,” he said.

“It hurts me to see that,” she admitted out loud. And it had a thousand questions
burning in her mind as to how such a thing had happened.

“Then I will try to clear it from your memory.”

When he looked at her, the stamp of possession was clear—he owned her body and intended
to show her that throughout the night. And she could admit he owned a little piece
of her soul, but perhaps that was because she’d chosen him above everyone else. Others
had tried to take what she wasn’t willing to give, and she’d resisted and fought back,
but when she looked at Nick, she wanted to give him everything she had to offer.

She hated that her lies stood between them. It was in that moment she knew she had
to tell him the truth about who she was, and what exactly she was running from. But
not tonight. She couldn’t bear to bring any ugliness between them when everything
was so perfect right now.

She kissed him full on the mouth as he carried her into the next room, her arms anchored
around his neck again, though she couldn’t get the image of those scars out of her
mind.

There was no harshness as their mouths came together; it was a gentle tasting, as
if she was familiarizing herself with him, and he was doing the same. It let her see
a softer side of him, though she thought he was only being careful because she was
still tender from their first lovemaking.

To her surprise, he didn’t take her over to his bed but to the hearth flanked with
an oversized chair on one side and a burgundy chaise on the other. There was a fire
burning low and emitting enough heat that the droplets of water left on her skin soon
began to evaporate.

Nick leaned over the chaise, pressing her back into the velvety soft material. Kneeling
between her legs, he guided her knees toward her chest and seated himself deeper inside
her. Her eyes fell shut, and her head tilted back, giving him access to her throat,
which he rubbed his beard along. Though the position stretched her body oddly and
gave her no control, it felt good to be trapped beneath this man, to give him complete
power over her body—to do as he pleased with her, while she was at his mercy.

She wanted to touch every part of him, explore the scars on his back, and try to understand
what that might have been like for him, but he anchored her wrists together above
her head with his unmovable grip.

Then his body worked hard inside her, pushing deep, only to pull out and slam back
into her. What was left from the water on their skin grew sticky and damp between
them as Nick stretched her body to its limits of pleasure and pain. She was helpless
to move beneath him and could only accept what he doled out. She didn’t ask him to
slow down his punishing pace; she begged him to give her release. Begged him to never
stop. She couldn’t say how long they moved in unison, but their bodies were covered
in sweat again when he finally emptied himself inside her. After retrieving a wet
towel from the bathing chamber, he wiped away the evidence of their lovemaking and
carried her over to his bed.

They didn’t join again, but he did worship every part of her body with kisses. She
wasn’t sure how late they were awake, never talking, only touching, but she eventually
fell asleep in his arms.

N
ick was nowhere to be found when Amelia opened her eyes and stared at the small stream
of light spilling in through the split in her curtains. She stretched her hand out
across her bed, and inhaled deeply, smelling the sandalwood of his soap and the amber
in his cologne everywhere. She felt dampness between her thighs when she recalled
everything they’d done. She wasn’t sure when he’d brought her back to her room, but
she was glad he’d thought that far ahead so they wouldn’t be discovered together.

She rolled over onto her back, feeling aches in places she had never felt before and
a lingering soreness everywhere. Her breasts felt tender, and even her nipples were
overly sensitized as she stretched her arms above her head, and the material of her
night rail scraped across the tips.

She felt like she’d ridden a horse for an entire day. As she sat up, she cringed at
the residual pain in lower parts of her body. Taking her time, she swung her feet
out of her bed and stood. Though her body was tired and slow, she felt better standing
than sitting, probably because most of the soreness radiated out from her sex. She
blushed as she recalled her evening with Mr. Riley. And then she blushed more, realizing
she’d have to face him in the light of day.

She remembered every intimate detail of their time together, everything they’d done.
She made her bed neatly so the maids wouldn’t bother with her room. The quilt atop
was a dark blue and hid any blood from their first joining last night, for which she
was thankful. Her dress was in a heap on the floor, so she picked up the skirts and
bodice and hung them in the wardrobe.

Changing into a chemise, she put on the corset she’d worn last night before donning
a plain dress.

Rotating her ankle under the dressing table, she was surprised it felt so much better—perhaps
that was because other parts of her seemed to hurt more, though she still took her
cane with her, using it intermittently as she went down the stairs and headed toward
the study.

What would today bring? What would Mr. Riley say to her, and how would he treat her
now that she’d allowed herself to be tempted onto their current path of seduction?

She didn’t spare another thought as she opened the double doors into the study. Today,
she had every intention of tidying up Mr. Riley’s paperwork before sorting through
the mail and attending to her own duties. Then she would act as if nothing was different
and join the rest of the staff for breakfast.

Of course, her good intentions could change if she ran into Mr. Riley. To her disappointment,
he wasn’t in the study, not that he seemed to go there first thing in the morning.
So she went about her duties, reading his missives.

She paused when she handled a letter that looked like it was of a personal nature.
Lifting the vellum to her nose, she could smell the faint trace of lavender on the
paper.

Turning it over, she saw an unfamiliar name: Seraphina. Who was she? A lover? A friend?
A relative? The last was unlikely, considering the lavender scent that infused the
paper. But someone by the name of “Ser” had written to him before. Could that be the
same woman?

Amelia sat heavily in the leather chair and she stared at it, wondering . . . She
wouldn’t dare invade his privacy, but . . .

“Good morning,” Nick said from the door.

She stood from his desk and backed up a few steps. It wasn’t quite embarrassment she
felt at being caught sitting at his desk; it was more like guilt.

“I hope you slept well,” he said.

“I did. Thank you.” She ducked her head, not ready to meet his assessing gaze. “I
did not expect you down yet. I was going through your papers to make sure everything
is in order.”

He came fully into the room, his presence dominating everything. After shutting the
double doors behind him, he turned the lock. She swallowed, nerves making it difficult
for her to breathe, let alone ask him what he was doing.

“By all means, do what you need to do,” he said without inflection in his voice—she
had difficulty reading his mood.

“There is a private letter for you. I did not want to open it.”

“I have nothing to hide from you, Amelia.” Her eyes shot to his. “Open it,” he said.

She hesitated, feeling ashamed for thinking the worst. “I . . . I couldn’t.” She retrieved
it and passed it to him.

“It’s from Sera.”

“Who is she?”

His smile was slow. “I think you’re jealous.”

She opened her mouth to deny it but closed it again. She was being silly. “I know
so little about you, Nick. Everything I do or ask feels like prying.” She still held
the letter out to him. He took it and tucked it in his jacket pocket.

That predatory look was in his eyes as he approached her. She took another step back
and was stopped by the wall.

“Sera, you should know, is my sister.”

“Sister?” Oh, God, could she have sounded any more pathetic?

“Half sister, if you want to be precise. But still my sister.”

There was so much that they needed to discuss, so much they had to figure out before
they moved forward. All this time, and she had no idea he had siblings.

“I see your mind moving, Amelia, and can almost hear the thousand questions spinning
around in that pretty head of yours. Perhaps you’re wondering how we carry on during
the day when our nights are filled with sin after sin.” He stood but a hand span from
her now, his hand tracing the top swell of her breast, where the barest amount of
skin was exposed along the edge of the dress.

“I need to be honest with you—” she started to say.

His finger pressed against her parted lips, effectively shushing her. “I will be home
late tonight, and I will not ask you to wait up for me, considering the hour you finally
fell asleep this morning.” He pressed closer to her. Her breathing grew erratic. “I
want you to know that
we
did not end with last night.”

“Help me understand what exactly you expect of me,” she asked, at a loss for words
when he stood close enough that she could smell the amber of his cologne. She wanted
to burrow into that scent and rub herself against him like a cat in heat.

Reining in her desires, she recalled where they were. And while Nick had locked the
study door behind him, they were taking too daring a chance.

“Am I supposed to carry on as if nothing has changed between us?” she asked.

“I leave that decision with you.” His hand lowered, his thumb and forefinger taking
her chin and turning her head to the side so he could press his lips against her neck.
Her pulse fluttered with the simple touch, and he kissed her again.

Amelia’s eyes drifted closed as she basked in the feel of his mouth on her, and all
the feelings from the previous night slammed through her so suddenly that a moan slipped
past her lips. She had to grab the front of his jacket to keep from swaying, to keep
her knees from buckling under her.

When he lifted his head and looked at her again, there was a gleam of pure satisfaction
in his eyes. She felt lost and found at the same time when she was in his arms and
subject to his wicked ministrations. It was then that she wished they hadn’t had to
leave his bed at all. That their night could have carried on for an eternity. That
the reality of morning didn’t have to exist and make things awkward between them.

She lowered her hands, knowing they couldn’t continue, knowing she needed to set boundaries
between them if she wanted to do her job well. She cleared her throat delicately.
“With Huxley away, what would you like me to spend my time doing?”

Huxley was still giving her direction, and he hadn’t left her with a list of tasks
to complete. And since he hadn’t informed her that he was leaving, she assumed he
had left rather suddenly.

Nick gave her just enough space to escape his domineering presence. She sidled out
from between him and the wall and took a steadying breath as she walked toward his
desk. Nick followed, though he must have sensed her hesitancy of the situation, as
he didn’t touch her again.

Reaching around her, he picked up a pen and turned a notebook toward him. He wrote
down an address, tore the page from the book, and handed it to her.

She looked at the location and the name of a store, her brow furrowing. “What is this?”

“That is the address of Victoria’s shop. If you feel so inclined, she is expecting
you at some point for a fitting.”

“I cannot accept this, Mr. Riley.” Amelia pushed the paper toward him, but his hand
curled around hers, pressing the address into her palm.

She would not be treated like his mistress. She would not let him treat her differently
from anyone else in the house.

“As my secretary,
Amelia
,” he said pointedly, as a reminder that she should call him by his first name, “you
have a clothing allowance. It is required for the meetings and dinner parties you
will attend with me.”

“Oh.” She felt foolish for not knowing that. And it made sense, considering how well
Huxley was always dressed, though she didn’t get the impression that he ever dined
out with Nick and his associates.

“We have a dinner engagement tomorrow night, and I need you to wear something that
will turn heads.”

Her eyebrows scrunched together.

He must have read her confusion, for he said, “You will provide a distraction. Lord
Murray and I have business to discuss, but his man of business tends to interfere
as he has a personal interest in Murray’s lands. I have no doubt you will be able
to keep him engaged in a separate conversation.”

She wasn’t so sure about that, but she would do her best if that was what he wanted.
“And what will I discuss with this person?”

“This will be a casual affair. You need only to be your charming self.”

She had no real knowledge of what Nick’s primary business purposes were, as he dabbled
in so many things. “What do you want from Lord Murray?”

“His lands.”

“Highgate,” she said, remembering mention of it last night. “Heddie said he had a
drafty old castle there. Is that far outside of London?”

“Not too far.” His hands were at her hips, pulling her closer to his body. She let
him. “What are you trying to delicately ask?”

“I want to understand why this is important.”

“He has two hundred acres and holds the majority of the leases in the town. I have
a personal interest in the area and plan to reinstate the house.”

“Where will Lord Murray go if you buy his house and his lands?”

“He has two other properties, neither of which have my interest.”

She arched one eyebrow at that and tucked the address into the bosom of her dress.
She would visit Miss Newgate’s shop, even though she had every reason to dislike the
woman who had once held Nick’s affections.

“I would like to see you tonight,” she said.

“You may wish for a night of reprieve.”

She shook her head; that was the last thing she wanted. “We have so much to figure
out between us. There are things about me . . . about my past.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell, Amelia. Your past will
not change what’s between us.”

She wished she didn’t have to worry about her past, but he should know the truth.
Perhaps now wasn’t the best time to bring it to the fore.

Before she could say more, Nick’s thumb pressed against her lower lip and pulled it
down enough that he could slip the tip into her mouth. Amelia closed her eyes and,
feeling daring and bold, flicked her tongue against him. His mouth replaced his hand
while her eyes were still closed. There was less urgency to his kiss today, and it
was done in a way that made her crave more. Perhaps she would always crave more after
last night.

He pulled away just as she curled her fingers into the sleeves of his jacket. “While
you’re a pleasant distraction, I will never make my meeting with Landon if we continue.”
His voice was hoarse, filled with desire.

She nodded her agreement, at a loss for words. She hated that she couldn’t control
herself around him.

Before turning to leave, he reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a small
pouch. Handing it to her, he said, “For your tea. The taste is a little bitter, but
if you use some sugar, you will not notice it.” Before she could ask what it was,
he added, “It will help keep my seed from taking root.”

Her cheeks warmed, and she had to turn her gaze elsewhere. She hadn’t even thought
of that.

“It is nothing for which you should be ashamed,” Nick said and gave her a peck on
the mouth before turning away again. “You will need to drink it daily.”

She blushed. How could she not? This was all still new to her.

Taking out the paper she’d tucked in her dress, she looked at the address and decided
to go directly to Miss Newgate’s shop. Amelia would not be intimidated by her.

N
ick had a tendency to trust those in his house above all. He felt a certain responsibility
in safeguarding their welfare. Not one of them came from a past easily forgotten,
though he tried to give them as safe a place as possible to overcome the obstacles
of those pasts. When Devlin, his housekeeper’s son, found him at Landon’s club, the
boy had a black eye and a swollen, bloody lip. Nick felt rage building in him.

Nick ushered the boy into a private room. Kneeling so they were at the same level,
he placed his hands on Devlin’s arms and inspected the damage done to his face. The
boy’s nose was intact, as were his teeth, from what Nick could see. It looked worse
than it really was. Not that Devlin’s mother would have agreed with that assessment.

“You need to tell me exactly what happened, Devlin,” Nick said.

Tears filled the youth’s eyes. While the boy was only nine, size alone made him look
much younger. He was an easy target for violence, should someone want to hurt him.
“Didn’t catch his name, Mr. Riley.”