In the Garden of Deceit (Book 4) (22 page)

Amanda
pulled in a shaky breath and eased onto her back and then onto her
other side to face James. She came up on her elbow, leaning over him.

He
lay very still, covers to his waist, eyes shuttered. Though his
expression was relaxed, he looked drained as though emotional
exhaustion had claimed him rather than a simple need to sleep. As on
other occasions, she was aware of his beauty, the lean muscles that
formed his shoulders and chest, the bronze of his skin. He wasn’t
overly hairy, which was more to her liking, although a dark
stubble—he would remove in the morning—covered his jaw,
lending him a devilish aspect Amanda found particularly compelling.
The hands crossed on his stomach were long and lean, a sinewiness
that implied strength. But she knew those hands could be gentle, too…

She
was moved by a sudden desire to touch him.
Dared she?

Hesitantly,
almost pulling back as her courage faltered, she laid her palm
lightly on his breastbone. She could feel the steady pulse of his
heart as his chest rose and fell, the warmth of his skin beneath her
fingers. Amanda truly didn’t know what she was trying to
achieve other than to feel close to him, absorb some of the raw
sexuality he exuded even in sleep. Maybe she was trying to stoke the
fires that were banked in her belly, she thought in self-mockery. She
suspected, on some level, she had been as dishonest as James about
what her intentions were.

She
studied his quiet features. Despite the dynamic man she knew him to
be, he had a vulnerable look in rest that caused a lump to rise in
her throat. Perhaps she had misjudged him. Perhaps her expectations
had
been out of line with reality and she needed to
understand, as her father had suggested, what she was giving up
before she gave it up. She needed to forgive James—now not
later—not for his sake but for hers. She loved him and didn’t
want to be angry with him anymore. It was simply too exhausting to be
upset all the time.

Amanda
sighed softly, withdrawing her touch.

At
once a hand clamped around her wrist, holding her in place.

She
yelped, her startled gaze darting to a pair of icy-blue eyes that
were much too alert to have been sleeping.

“Y-you
frightened me!” she said in a breathless voice.

“What
are you doing?”

“I…well…waking
you up, apparently.”

“Why?”

“I
didn’t mean to.”

His
brows lifted in doubt, expression now showing a trace of amusement.
“Are you certain?”

“I
don’t know what you mean, I’m sure. Why would I want to
disturb you?”

“Oh,
you’re not disturbing me, love.” James pressed her hand
closer to his chest.

The
timbre of his voice, the sudden drooping of his lids, the sultry
quirk of his mouth sent a wave of pulsing heat directly to her
pelvis. Her response was so intense, for a moment she couldn’t
speak. She assumed that response was the direct result of now knowing
what intimacy entailed. Not the act itself—she had known before
last night what to expect in that regard. What she hadn’t
anticipated was how she would
feel
, both physically and
emotionally, during and after their lovemaking.

“Amanda?”

Her
gaze locked with his and, as he clearly assessed her mood, a gradual
heat gathered in those icy eyes that took her breath. Without knowing
she meant to, she leaned down and touched her lips to his. Unsure of
herself, her attempt at seduction was tentative. He must have found
her effort satisfactory, however, as Amanda could feel his heart
gathering speed, thump, thump, thumping against his ribs. She
expected James to gather her into his arms and take the lead, but he
didn’t. Instead, he clung more tightly to her hand, allowing
her, she realized, to control the moment.

She
pulled back to look at him again, and this time the message in his
gaze nearly singed her.

“Your
turn,” he murmured hotly.

“My
turn?”

“Amanda,
only you will decide how we progress tonight.”

“Oh?
What if I decide to roll over and go to sleep?” Though she was
whispering, her tone became a touch more spirited.

“Then
so be it.”

“You
mean that?”

“I
don’t want our lovemaking to leave you feeling… Last
night you felt…ah…”

“Forced?”

He
winced though he met her gaze directly. “That term feels a
little too much like ravishment for my comfort.”

“Coerced
then?”

“You’re
not going to forgive me, are you?” He sounded demoralized. “Was
it really so terrible?”

She
removed her hand from his and walked her fingers over his chest to
cup his jaw, enjoying the feel of his day-old beard against her palm.
“I’ve already forgiven you, James. And…” she
licked her lips, “it wasn’t terrible at all. That’s
what upset me.”

His
features relaxed into relief and he smiled, teeth oh-so-white against
his sun-burnished skin. “You do understand that makes no sense
at all, don’t you?”

“It
does sound a bit contrary.”

“A
bit?”

Amanda
nodded. “I was holding a grudge, and I realized holding a
grudge is a decision. Letting a grudge go is a decision, also.”

“I’m
not sure I follow.”

“Don’t
you see? How I responded last night was a decision. I was angry
because I wanted to be angry. I don’t want to be angry with you
anymore.”

James
inhaled a gulp of air, visibly moved by her confession. “I make
no excuses, sweetheart. I should never have lied to you.”

“True.”
Her tone was implacable. No quarter to give on that one.

“But
you must believe this—I would never have married you if I
hadn’t loved you.”

“You
love me?” she asked in a small voice.

“I
was such an idiot. I was, I think, a little afraid to call it love.
That gives another person a great deal of power over one.”

“True.”
She could not help the irony that punctuated the one word.

He
acknowledged what she
didn’t
say by rubbing his thumb
across her knuckles. “But I’ve learned much since our
wedding. Most of it rather humbling, I fear.”

“You
don’t regret our marriage?”

“Marrying
you was something I wanted very much to do, Amanda. No one forced my
hand. And neither did money. The only thing I regret is how the day
ended. On our wedding night, standing outside your room after you
sent me away…it was very…difficult. It was then I
understood what I had to lose. I wanted to murder Derrick in that
moment.”

Her
heart lurching with hope, she searched his face, looking for nuances,
deception. More than anything she wanted to believe him.

“I
love you, Amanda Tremont,” he stated simply. “Thank you
for finally letting me say it.”

“Oh,
James—”

He
lifted an index finger to her mouth, shushing her. “And do you
think, given time, you could love me again?” His voice was
rough, emotional.

It
was important to him that she loved him!
The back of her eyes
stung with tears, and she swallowed hard. “I’ve never
stopped loving, James.”

He
placed his other hand to the back of her neck and pulled her face to
his. “I don’t deserve it,” he said against her
mouth. They shared a soft kiss and, when she pulled back, he
continued, “I want to promise that I’ll never disappoint
you, Amanda. But I’m not certain of my ability to be that
perfect.” James chuckled before his expression turned deadly
serious. “What I will promise is that I’ll never lie to
you again. I want you to have faith in me. Clearly, without that we
can’t move forward.”

Amanda
stared at him several moments and then nodded once. “Agreed.”

“Now,
what say we get back to where this conversation began?”

“And
where was that, my lord.”

“Why,
with you preparing to take advantage of me.”

“I
beg your pardon!”

“You
deny it?”

Amanda
felt her face redden. “Hasn’t all this talk dampened
your, ah…ardor?”

“Hardly,”
James said in a dry voice. He took the hand he still held and slipped
it under the coverlet to the front of his drawers.

“Oh…”

“Indeed.
The question is has it dampened yours?” he asked huskily. He
cupped his hand over hers, curving her fingers around his erection.

A
jolt of pure desire coursed through her system, and her fingers
tightened around him convulsively. “Perhaps not,” she
admitted.

“Well
then…?”

“Well
then what?”

“I
am at your command, my lady. Do with me as you will.”

“Please,
James, I don’t know how to proceed.”

He
shook his head against the pillow. “Sorry, love. Last night we
both learned a lesson. Mine was appropriate. Yours was not. I want
you to proceed as long as you are comfortable. When you no longer
are, we will stop.” Blue eyes locked with hers. “As we
should have done last night.”

Amanda’s
hand tightened around his member, this time intentionally, and she
leaned over to whisper in his ear. “You should become a
diplomat, my lord. You have a gift for the art of persuasion.”

He
answered but not intelligibly.

“Is
it possible for me to do for you what you did for me?” she
asked, now feeling more confident.

His
eyes were bright with lust. “Ah, yes…yes…a
splendid idea.”

A
plaintive sound escaped James when she released her hold on him.
Coming up on her knees, Amanda pulled down the coverlet and set to
work on the drawstring of his drawers. She fumbled nervously, but he
did not interfere, merely watching her movements with avid interest.

The
drawers now opened, she peeled them back and exposed him, and he
sprang forth in all his male glory. Though fascinated, she paused,
all of a sudden uncertain how to proceed. She looked to James for
inspiration.

He
gave her a wolfish grin. He took her hand once more and wrapped her
fingers around him, this time showing her how to stroke the swollen
flesh. After a moment, Amanda laid down next to him, continuing the
stroking as she did, placing her cheek on his breast. His breathing
was accelerating, his heart hammering against her ear. Her own heart
beat as rapidly, her excitement swelling in tandem with his.

She
nuzzled closer, her mouth now next to his ear. In a breathy whisper,
she said. “Touch me.”

James
growled, rolling toward her, his hand slipping beneath the hem of her
gown. She could feel a trembling in his fingers as he grasped her
naked hip, his touch moving to her belly and then lower. Amanda
huffed a cry of pleasure as his hand slipped between her thighs. At
that same moment his lips sought hers. The groan that escaped him
came deep from the center of his chest.

At
once he pulled back, resting his chin on her forehead. “Stop,
sweetheart.” His voice was strained, his breathing ragged.

Amanda,
lost to all but the pleasure, took a moment to reorient herself. She
raised her head to look at him. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“You
are doing everything right, love. But we are headed for a quick
conclusion unless you choose to do it another way.” His smile
was gentle but filled with self-mockery. “I fear at some point
it’s beyond my control.”

“What
do you want to do?”

“I
thought we’d decided tonight you are in command, and I am but
your humble servant.”

Her
heart welled with tenderness. He was trying so hard. “James,
let’s not worry anymore about who is to decide. Tell me what
you want, and I will tell you if I want it also. Let’s do this
together.”

“I
want to make love to my wife,” he stated.

“What
a coincidence. Your wife wants the same thing.”

***

CHAPTER 15

From
a chair next to the fireplace, James leaned over to pull on his
boots. But his eyes were on his wife who still lounged in the bed.
The covers were bunched around her, clutched demurely to her breasts,
and he was very much aware that she was naked beneath those covers.
Her long dark hair cascaded around her shoulders and down her back.
She was mussed, her eyelids heavy with recent sleep, and he found the
picture she presented highly alluring. He was tempted to discard the
clothing he had just donned and climb back into his vacated spot next
to her on the mattress.
Damn obligations!

“You’re
up early,” Amanda said, voice drowsy.

“I
am—” A knock came at the door, and he stood and strode
across the room. He opened the door but only marginally for privacy’s
sake. “Put the tray on the floor,” he said to the servant
on the other side. “I’ll retrieve it in a moment.”

He
turned back to his wife. “Are you awake enough to join me in a
cup of tea?”

“Are
there scones with that tea?”

James
grinned. “Hungry, are we?”

Amanda
returned his smile, a coquettish tilt to her lips as she sat up.
“Famished. Someone kept me awake most of the night. He was
quite a taskmaster, I must say, and I’ve developed a monstrous
appetite.”

“Are
you blaming this on me? As I recall,
you
were the one who woke
me up.”

“You’ve
found me out, but had I known what I was getting myself into, I might
have reconsidered.”

“Then
how fortunate I am that you were unaware.” James opened the
door wider and picked up the tray that rested on the floor of the
corridor. He closed the door with the heel of his boot then moved
toward the bed to set the tray down. “Would you like to do the
honors?”

“You
are devious, sir.”

“Yes?”

“If
I serve the tea, I can’t keep these up.” Amanda indicated
the covers she still held to her breasts.

James
felt his loins tighten. “You’ve found me out as well,”
he said huskily. He sat on the bed next to the tray, side-saddle
style, one booted foot resting on the floor. “Right then, let’s
see if I can bungle through this thing.” He picked up a scone.
“Jam?”