Lillian's Light Horseman (31 page)

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Authors: Jasmine Hill

Tags: #Erotic Romance Fiction

BOOK: Lillian's Light Horseman
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William opened his door and stepped around the front of the automobile to open hers too and assist her from the vehicle. Lillian removed her headscarf and checked her reflection in her compact. It was silly, she supposed, but she didn’t want to confront Margaret Dawson looking less than her best.

William took her arm, led her to the front door and rapped the knocker abruptly. A moment later, Margaret Dawson opened it, surprise and anxiety suffusing her features when she realized who had come calling.

“Hello, Margaret,” William greeted her. “May we come in?”

Margaret looked at them, indecision in her eyes, but William pushed past her. “Thank you,” he said, pulling Lillian along with him.

“Who is it, Margaret?” George Dawson appeared in the hallway and stopped dead in his tracks, his face turning an alarming shade of red when he caught sight of them. “Cartwright,” he sneered. “You have the audacity to come back into my home
and
bring your whore with you?”

Lillian gasped in shock as William growled and stepped forward.

“You’re lucky that I’m not in the habit of beating on weaker men, otherwise you’d be a dead man for that insult.”

Dawson paled and took a step back.

William glowered menacingly and Lillian laid her hand on his arm in an effort to calm him.

“William,” she implored quietly.

He took a deep breath and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to his side. “We need to talk, Dawson. I want some answers. Surely you’re not surprised that I’m here?”

George Dawson gave a curt nod and led them down the hallway to a drawing room. He entered and poured himself a whiskey from a decanter on a drink trolley, motioning with his glass for them to take a seat.

William led Lillian to an armchair but he remained standing. Margaret Dawson entered the room cautiously and took a seat to Lillian’s left, looking warily between the two men.

George Dawson finished his Scotch in one gulp and turned to face them, looking directly at Lillian. “I’m surprised at you, young lady. I thought we were of the same opinion…that you and I agreed it’s for the best for my daughter, William and their unborn baby that you leave.”

Before Lillian could respond, William slammed his fist on a nearby table making them all jump in alarm. “That’s a lie, Dawson,” he roared. “I’ve
never
been intimate with your daughter. These lies have to stop. Now!”

Lillian was quickly reassessing their decision to confront the Dawsons. She glanced at Margaret and found her studying her lap intently. She wondered at the woman’s apparently calm demeanor.

William’s jaw was clenched tight and Lillian knew he was working hard to maintain control of his temper. When he next spoke, he kept his voice modulated and his words were addressed to Margaret Dawson. “Does your father know the truth? Is he in on this façade in an attempt to gain control of my land?”

The young woman looked up from her lap and stared at him, her bottom lip quivering.

“Answer me!”

When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. “I told him that you were the father.”

Lillian looked quickly at William. His eyes were blazing and boring a hole into Margaret Dawson, ordering her silently to continue with her explanation.

Her voice trembled. “I knew that my father wanted a connection between us. He thought that it would be beneficial to join the two properties. He spoke about it often and I knew his hope was that we’d be married.” She looked up and met William’s stare. “It was my hope too,” she finished quietly.

George Dawson blustered from the other side of the room, “Margaret. Don’t let him intimidate you. He needs to own up to his responsibilities—”

William cut him off with a glare and a growl.

“He can’t be fooled, Papa,” she cried. “He’s right. There is no possible way that he could be the father. I lied to you!”

A deafening silence fell on the room. Up until that point, they hadn’t even been sure that Margaret
was
pregnant.

Lillian looked at William and noted the expression of utter relief on his face. She understood now why he’d been so determined to have the truth exposed. It worried him that in the back of her mind Lillian would always have a level of uncertainty. She understood it, because until that moment, she suddenly realized, she
had
harbored a flicker of doubt.

Margaret Dawson was speaking again, her voice low. “I couldn’t keep the pretext up any longer. I knew really, when you spurned my advances, that it wouldn’t be possible. I guess it was just wishful thinking that you may have come to my rescue and claimed the baby as yours. It was silly and irresponsible. I’m sorry.”

Lillian couldn’t find it within herself to be completely unsympathetic. Obviously, the woman thought herself to be in love with William and had clearly gotten herself into trouble with another man. It was an unenviable situation and she found herself feeling sad for her.

“Who the hell is the father?” George Dawson snarled at his daughter. He was now a livid shade of purple and obviously not nearly as comfortable with this new status of his daughter’s condition.

Lillian stood quickly, not wanting to be privy to a discussion about Margaret Dawson’s intimate liaisons.

“We’ll take our leave,” William said quietly, grasping her elbow and guiding her to the door.

Neither of them spoke until they were ensconced in William’s automobile and heading up the driveway. William exhaled a long breath and grasped Lillian’s hand, raising his voice to be heard above the engine noise. “Well, that was awkward. I can’t say that I’m unhappy that Margaret Dawson finally admitted the truth, although I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes at the moment.”

“The poor girl. I feel for her,” Lillian said, her voice ripe with sympathy.

William looked at her askance. “Are you serious, Lilly? Her actions and those of her father caused you to leave. I know you thought that you were doing the right thing at the time, but you could have been killed or badly injured.” He shook his head. “No. It was a self-serving thing for her to do. At no time did she think about the consequences of her actions and her father was so besotted with the idea that he might get his hands on my land that he didn’t even question her.”

“I think it was much more than the lure of your land, William. You are a respected member of the community, a decorated war veteran and successful in your own right. Any man would be proud to have you as a son-in-law.”

He glanced her way and gave her hand a soft squeeze. “Your opinion of me warms my heart, my love, as does your sweet disposition.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “I’ll try to see matters through your eyes. At any rate, George Dawson has been served his due. No doubt the father of Margaret’s baby is one of the property workmen. It would be next to impossible for her to have been…indiscreet with anyone else.”

Lillian scanned their surroundings and wondered where they were going. She said as much to William.

“Remember I told you that I have a surprise for you?”

She smiled. “Yes. I’ve been wondering what that is all about.”

He pulled off the main road and onto a dirt track. “Well, we’re nearly there.”

Lillian had no idea where they could be going. On either side of the vehicle was thick brush. They bumped along the road for a few miles, the noise making any further conversation impossible. Then William stopped the vehicle.

“We’re here.” He opened his door and walked around to her side. He assisted her out of the automobile before collecting a blanket and a basket from the back seat. William took her hand in his. “Come.”

They wandered a short way through the bushland until they came to a lovely clear billabong. Tree branches swayed and hovered over the water and fat lizards sat sunning themselves on the rocky ledges.

“William, it’s lovely,” she breathed.

He smiled. “It is, isn’t it? It’s not full all year round, but we’ve been lucky, weather-wise.”

He led her over to a shady clearing and laid the blanket down. He sat and tugged her to sit next to him. “We have a picnic lunch,” he announced, unpacking the basket with a flourish. “We have cheese, eggs, cold lamb, fresh bread and wine.”

“A veritable feast,” Lillian laughed, delighted.

She was famished and ate ravenously, enjoying the fabulous food and their peaceful surroundings. They chatted amiably, both of them avoiding the subject of the Dawsons. Lillian had taken off her shoes and stockings and relished the freedom of fresh air circulating around her legs and feet.

William had grown quiet. She turned her head to look at him and her breath caught in her throat. He was kneeling before her on one bended knee, a box open in his palm.

“Lillian, my love, will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife? I love you more than life itself. I’ll do anything for you and I can’t imagine my life without you in it. Please marry me?”

A lump formed in Lillian’s throat and her pulse soared in exhilaration. For so long her heart had ached for this man before her, ached for a love lost. Then when she’d found him again, fate had thrown so many challenges in their direction that she’d almost lost hope that they’d ever be together.

A sob worked its way up her throat and she held a trembling hand out to him. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I
will
marry you.”

She looked into his eyes and saw such tenderness and adoration that it took her breath away. He steadied her trembling and slid a beautiful diamond solitaire onto her ring finger. She looked down at her hand and fluttered her fingers, allowing the diamond to catch the light and sparkle magnificently. It was elegant and lovely and exquisite in its simplicity. “William, it’s beautiful,” she said reverently. “I love it.”

He smiled. “I’m glad. I’m beyond ecstatic that I’m finally able to put it on your finger.”

She raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Oh?”

“I bought it for you ten years ago.” He caressed her face. “I’ve kept it ever since. I could never bring myself to part with it, even though you and I were separated. It felt like, however small, I had a piece of you with me.”

Tears filled her eyes and her heart swelled in her chest. How she loved this man! “I’m the luckiest woman in the world,” she told him, tears of happiness trailing down her cheeks.

He grasped her around the waist and lowered her gently to the blanket, resting his weight on his arms. His thick arousal nestled between her thighs and her pulse rate spiked in anticipation.

“Thank you, my darling,” he said, his voice thick. “You can’t know how happy you’ve made me.”

“I do know, William,” she breathed. “I feel the same way.”

He groaned and took her in a possessive kiss, his tongue tangling with hers as their mouths connected desperately. He nipped at her, sucking, nibbling and bruising her lips in his urgency.

His solid erection throbbed deliciously against her sex. She whimpered into his mouth and gripped his shoulders, thrusting her hips up shamelessly and grinding them against him, using his hard cock and the seam of his trousers for friction.

He cupped her head with one hand and her backside with the other and pulled her tighter to him, slanting his mouth across hers and deepening the kiss. High on his passion, a headiness assailed her, sending lightning bolts of pleasure to her pulsing core.

He pulled away suddenly, leaving her breathless and wanting.

“Undress,” he demanded softly. “I want you naked.”

The raw look of lust in his eyes as he raked her body with his gaze sent hot desire rippling down her spine. She shed her clothes quickly and soon she was standing totally exposed before him. He took his time examining her, until his scrutiny rested at the juncture of her thighs. He licked his lips and started to undress himself, staring at her intently. Within seconds, he was naked. His beautiful, muscular body gleamed enticingly in the dappled sunlight and made her mouth water.

Abruptly he bent and swooped her into a cradle hold. She shrieked in surprise and threw her arms around his neck, laughing in delight. He supported her easily and strode to the edge of the billabong, walking in waist deep and slowly lowering her into the water.

Lillian gasped at the initial change in temperature and clung to William, her arms around his neck. He tugged her close, dropping his hands to cup her backside then wrapping her legs around his waist.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, skimming his lips over her neck. “You’ll not leave me again, Lillian.” It was a demand, not a request, and one to which Lillian was all too willing to concede. She arched against him, relishing the feel of her breasts and tight nipples mashing against the hard contours of his chest.

The water lapped gently against their bodies as William ran his nose along the column of her throat, nibbling and sucking the sensitive flesh.

She moaned when he drew back and entered her swiftly, stretching and filling her with his thick arousal. He pumped in and out of her with long, languid strokes, cupping her backside and manipulating her body roughly. “This. Is.
Mine
.” He punctuated each word with a hard thrust.

“Yes, yours,” she gasped. “Always.” Ecstatic beyond words that this man, this handsome Light Horseman was finally hers and that theirs was a love reclaimed.

 

Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:

 

Roses are Red

Jasmine Hill

 

Excerpt

 

Chapter One

 

 

 

Lucy Whiticker studied her reflection critically. At forty-five she had to work hard to maintain her lithe figure. The advancing years and the birth of two children meant that her workout routine was an arduous and daily occurrence. She couldn’t defy gravity, but she could work damn hard in order to keep it at bay for as long as possible.

Now, studying her naked form in the full-length mirror, she mentally thanked her personal trainer. Her long legs were still supple and relatively dimple free. Her stomach was slightly rounded but remained firm, and hundreds of triceps bench dips per week meant that she hadn’t yet developed the dreaded arm sag. Her breasts, though not as perky as they used to be, were not too bad. She supposed it was their size that helped. She had never been big breasted, a detail that had irritated her when she was younger but helped at forty-five. In her opinion, the less amount of skin one boasted, the better. Her ash-blonde hair was cut in a chic bob that feathered softly around her face and highlighted her hazel green eyes. She had good, olive skin and a few laugh lines around her mouth and eyes but nothing too serious. All things considered, she thought she still looked pretty good.

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