More Than Willing (17 page)

The blood pounded in her head as she waited for him to either open the door, or go away.

He didn’t move for what seemed an eternity and she waited.

She knew there would be no turning back from whatever he decided and she held her breath as she kept her gaze on the knob.

H
is labored breathing came from outside her door. She knew he struggled with the decision he was about to make.

Then slowly, silently, the knob turned and his dark, powerful outline filled the entryway.

It took him a second to realize she wasn’t in bed, then another second to search the room for her. When he found her he didn’t move.

Then, with deliberate care, he stepped inside her room and closed the door.

Neither of them spoke. Maggie hoped he wouldn’t shatter the silence with words.

He didn’t.

Without asking permission, he walked across the room until he was close enough that one more step would put her in his arms.

He didn’t touch her, but looked down on her as if he needed to memorize every feature of her face.

Her heart ached for him. That place deep inside her chest she’d convinced herself couldn’t be affected by anyone, especially a man, wept for him. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and blinked back the tears that caused her vision to blur.

She knew he was going to speak before he opened his mouth and she prayed it wouldn’t be to ask permission for whatever it was he needed from her.

He breathed in a harsh breath and nestled her cheek in the palm of his hand. “Maggie, I need you,” he whispered in the most heart-wrenching tone she’d ever heard.

She nodded. “I know.”

With a mutual offering, she took the one step that brought her into his arms. In one swift movement he lowered his head to claim her lips.

His kiss was hungry and greedy and he drank from her as if he were dying of thirst. Even when she gave him as much as she thought would satisfy him, he seemed to want more. He pulled her closer to him and tilted his head as if that angle
gave him an advantage.

She matched his kisses and offered him all. He was hurting and she wanted to help him heal. He’d lost something and
she’d give him whatever it took to make him whole. He’d been alone so long he needed to be loved. And she desired to be the one to offer love.

She opened her mouth and deepened her kiss.
A hunger she’d never experienced before consumed her. She threaded her fingers through his hair and brought him closer, then pressed herself against him. She was as desperate to have him as he was to have her.

A flash of understanding exploded inside her head and for the first time she realized something she’d refused to admit until now. She hurt as badly as he did. And she needed him to help her heal.

She’d lost the same thing he had. And she needed him to give her whatever it took to make her whole.

She’d been alone too long. And she
ached for him to love her.

“Maggie, I—”

“Shh,” she said, pushing his open shirt off his shoulders. “Just want me.”

His moan
was filled with gratitude and desire.

With her arms still wrapped around his neck and his mouth locked with hers, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Her robe and nightdress fell away with little effort and his naked flesh felt strangely wondrous when he came down over her.

He kissed her again while his hands moved over her body and Maggie thought she would burst into flames. She’d never thought she’d experience this. She never thought that if she did, it would be like this.

“I’d never hurt you if I could help it,” he whispered in her ear as he entered her.

She sucked in a harsh breath and closed her eyes until the pain lessened. He didn’t move, but waited until she relaxed before he shifted. The pain was gone and each powerful thrust carried her to a place she’d never believed existed.

She’d have plenty of time tomorrow and every day for the rest of her life to think about why she’d fallen in love with Gray Delaney. Plenty of time to remember the feel of him in her arms and inside her body.
Time to regret that she’d never be brave enough to risk her future with him.

With her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her legs wound around his hips she soared with him far above the real world. When she couldn’t hold back any longer, she
cried out and shattered into a million pieces before she plummeted back to earth.

She waited for him to join her and within seconds he did. He thrust into her once, then once again before he dropped his head back onto his shoulders and stilled. He shuddered in her arms and with a low moan he spilled his seed deep inside her.

Maggie clasped him to her and skimmed her fingers over his damp flesh. His heart thundered in rhythm with hers and his chest heaved with exertion.

Oh, she didn’t ever want to forget this night. She didn’t want to forget the way his muscles quivered beneath her
touch. Or forget the look in his eyes or the expression on his face when he made love to her. She’d always remember the feel of him inside her, and the wondrous weight of him atop her after he’d found his release.

He lay against her, his forearms propped on either side of her body, his ruggedly handsome face nestled in the crook of her neck, and his gasping breaths whispering across her heated skin.

She held him close and brushed her fingers through his hair. She’d dreamed of doing this since the first time she saw him. Dreamed of raking her fingers through his hair and running her hands across his broad shoulders and holding his naked flesh in her arms. Even his scarred back was a unique part of him she never wanted to forget.

She just prayed that when she woke up tomorrow her dream wouldn’t turn into a nightmare.

Maggie woke up in the bed alone. But she’d known she would. She’d heard him leave several hours ago.

She
lay in the dark, trying to force her muddled mind to rationally evaluate what she’d done. It refused. Finally, she got up and scrubbed the spot on the bottom sheet so there wouldn’t be any evidence of what had happened last night. Then she wrapped a cover around her shoulders and curled up in a chair.

As the light of a dreary winter day stole into the room she had no choice but to face the future.

She clutched her hands to her middle and thought again about what had happened between them last night. And what the ramifications of her actions might be.

He couldn’t force her to marry him. She was seven and twenty. Old enough so no one could force her into marrying if she didn’t want to. Except, this morning she wasn’t as sure of what she wanted as she’d been the day before.

How would she ever endure a life without him?

Maggie closed her eyes and remembered what her mother had said all those years ago when she’d asked her why she’d married her father.
Because I couldn’t live without him.

She squeezed her eyes tighter and let
a river of hot tears stream down her cheeks. Did she regret what they’d done last night? How could she regret something so wonderful? And yet…

How could she live such an empty existence for the rest of her life if he wasn’t in it?

Maggie brushed the tears away when a maid rapped softly at the door. “Come in.” She sat up straighter and brushed her hair back to make it look as if she’d had a calm, restful night.

The young maid who’d attended her last night entered with a tray. “Cook sent me up with some hot chocolate and warm
scones.”

“Thank you, Jena,” Maggie said, giving the young girl time to put the tray on the table. “Has Mr. Delaney gone down to breakfast?”

“No, Miss.”

“Ah, he must still be abed.”

“No, Miss. His room is empty.” Jena poured the hot chocolate, then stepped away from the table. “Will you be needing anything else?” she asked before she left the room.

“No, Jena. That will be all.”

Maggie stared at the closed door then took the cup of hot chocolate and sipped.

It shouldn’t matter to her that Gray wasn’t in his room. It shouldn’t matter where he went when he left her. But it did.

She waited until Jena returned to help her dress.

“Do you know
where Mr. Delaney is?” she asked after she was dressed and her hair was arranged. “I thought perhaps I’d ask him to show me the house.”

The pleasant expressions on
Jena’s face fell away.

“What?”

Jena swallowed before she spoke. “The master isn’t likely to give you a tour of the house, Miss. Cook sent a tray to his study this morning because she said she doubted he’d leave the room until the weather cleared enough for him to leave Mayfair.”

“I see,” Maggie whispered.

Jena left the room and Maggie sat for several minutes before she found the courage to do what she must.

With her shoulders back she left the room and walked down the winding staircase that led to the right side of the foyer. Without giving herself time to lose courage, she knocked on the door that Boswick had told her was Gray’s study, and waited.

She didn’t hear him give her permission to enter but she hadn’t expected that he would. He obviously intended to spend his time here in isolation.

Well, she’d like nothing better than to hide away after what happened last night but that wouldn’t make what she’d done go away. And hiding in his study wouldn’t make what had happened to his mother go away either. The sooner they both faced their demons the sooner they could get on with their lives.

Maggie opened the door and stepped inside the room.

He didn’t look up from the massive oak desk he was sitting behind until she closed the door. The stunned look on his face would have been amusing if she
hadn’t been so nervous, but he quickly recovered his surprise. His demeanor turned more serious. And tentative.

“The servants told me I could find you here.”

He pushed himself from his chair and stood behind his desk.

Maggie told herself that what happened last night was over and she could talk to Gray without thinking of how it felt to be in his arms and in his bed. But the sight of him standing before her caused a strange heat to rush through her body.

She prayed her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

“Was there something you needed?”

Maggie walked across the room and stopped in front of him. “Yes, I’d like to see your home.”

She thought his face paled but wasn’t sure. His recovery was instantaneous.

“Of course. Let me get Boswick for you. He can—”

“I’d like
you to show me your home.”

“No.”

His answer came so quickly Maggie was at a loss for an answer. She opened her mouth to confront him, then realized that arguing would only make matters worse.

“Very well, I’ll let Boswick give me a tour. But later.” She took a step toward one of the two wing chairs flanking the desk and looked at him. “Would you mind if we had a cup of tea first? There are a few matters I’d like to discuss with you.”

He smiled and her heart flipped in her breast. Oh, why did he have to be so unbelievably handsome?

“I’d like nothing better,” he said with a gleam in his eyes that said he’d expected that she’d want to discuss
their recent actions. Well, he was in for a surprise if he thought she intended to let him think last night meant anything to her.

She sat down while he poured them both tea, then he handed her one cup and sat back behind the desk. She looked at the top of the desk and was glad she didn’t see any evidence that he’d been drinking anything stronger than tea this morning.

“About last night—” he started to say, but she stopped him with a lift of her hand.

“I’d prefer not to talk about last night. What happened was significantly unimportant.”

His eyebrows shot up and he set down his cup and saucer. “Are you telling me you consider what happened unimportant?”

“Significantly so.” She took a sip of her tea as if they were talking about the weather instead of the most intimately embarrassing topic she could think of, and set her cup in her lap. “Surely you didn’t think it was?”

“I most surely did, Maggie, my love. I’m not in the habit of taking a young lady’s virginity and forgetting about it.”

“Oh, Gray,” she said with a chuckle she hoped didn’t sound forced. “You didn’t take anything I didn’t choose to give. Besides, we both know there’s far too much importance placed on one’s innocence or lack thereof. Especially at my age.”

He stared at her as if she’d grown two heads. “Let me assure you that your innocence was extremely important to me.”

She tried to look shocked. “After all the conquests you’ve made over the years?”

“This might surprise you, Maggie, my love,” he said, leaning forward to brace his forearms on the top of the desk, “but none of my conquests have been virgins. If any had been, I’d be a married man by now.”

“Surely you aren’t hinting that we marry?”

“No, I’m not hinting any such thing.”

Maggie breathed a sigh of relief before she took a sip of her tea.

“I’m stating a fact. We’ll marry as soon as possible.”

Maggie choked on her tea.

He raced to her side and held her cup and saucer until she caught her breath.

“I’m not
certain if your reaction is a good sign or a bad one, but it doesn’t matter. You don’t have a choice in the matter.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.
” Maggie rose from her chair. Gray backed up and she was glad. She was angry enough at the moment she would have plowed him down. “It’s obviously escaped your notice, but I’m of an age where I can’t be forced to marry.”

“And if you’re carrying my child?”

“I’m not. That rarely happens the first time one has—” She stuttered, unable to say the word.

“Makes love,” he finished for her. “We didn’t
have anything. We made love.”

“Stop it!”

He placed her cup and saucer on the desk and took a step closer toward her. “And we increased the chances of creating a child when we made love the second time. And the—”

“Stop it!”

She spun away from him and paced the floor from one side to the other. “Do you honestly think I don’t know why you want to marry me?” she said, turning on him.

“Hell, woman. Do you still think I want to marry you for your brewery?”

“Of course I do. My father found it to be the perfect arrangement. Mother could stay in the country and work from morning ’til night so he could run off to London and live a life free of responsibility.”

“You act like I’m destitute and need your brewery to survive.”

“I think you do.”

“Even though
I’ve told you I already own a—” He stopped. His expression bordered between disappointment and fury.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Let’s just say I doubt you own anything capable of supporting you.”

“What about Mayfair? I own Mayfair!”

“Ha!” She placed her fists on her hips and squared off with him. “You don’t even have the courage to leave this room.”

“Courage?” He took a threatening step toward her. “You think I’m afraid to show you the house?”

“Of course you are. You can’t even call it by what it is.”

“And what is that?”

“Your home. Mayfair is your home but you’re too much of a coward to step through it.”

“Coward?”

“Yes, coward.”

He paused, and clamped his lips together in a show of fury.

“Come on,” he said, eating the distance to the door in three angry strides. “If you’re so eager to see the damn house, I’ll show it to you.”

He threw the door open so hard it bounced against the wall, then waited for her to walk out of the room ahead of him.

Maggie wanted to shout with glee. She wanted to clap her hands and dance around in a little circle because she’d tricked him into leaving this study and venturing into the rest of the house but knew she didn’t dare. She couldn’t, however, hide the gloating smile that lifted the corners of her mouth.

She preferred that last night had never come up. She’d rather not think of it, but somehow the topic had turned on him. Instead of forcing her to consider marrying him, he was being forced into showing her Mayfair Manor.

Her heart soared in her breast and she couldn’t hold herself back from making one small gesture to show him how happy she was. She walked to the door and when she reached him she stopped. She stood on her tiptoes and leaned forward. “Thank you,” she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

He was too stunned to do anything but stare at her with his jaw slack and his eyes open wide as she walked away from him.

****

Bloody hell!

Bloody, bloody, damn it all to hell!

How had she managed it!

Somehow she’d tricked him into stepping out of the room he’d set up as his sanctuary. She’d maneuvered him into doing exactly what he’d sworn he wouldn’t do—step foot in all the rooms he never wanted to see again. She’d turned the tables on him and even though his plan was to convince her that she would have to marry him, she’d somehow managed to force him into facing his worst nightmare.

Well, he’d take her on a tour of the house, show her every room on every floor of every win
g
except the north wing. He’d be damned if he let her trick him into going there.

They walked up the ornately carved staircase, then across the balcony that looked down on the marble-floored foyer. Above them hung the huge crystal chandelier. A shiver raced up and down Gray’s spine. The last time he’d seen a chandelier in this room it hadn’t been hanging from the ceiling but shattered on the foyer floor in a million miniscule pieces.

Gray stopped and shook his head, trying to forget that scene from his youth. When he looked back up, he found her watching him.

“Is this the way your home looked before the fire?”

“Yes,” Gray answered past the lump in his throat. “Father did an excellent job of restoring Mayfair to the way it was when Mother was alive.”

“It
’s a beautiful home.”

“Yes, it was.”

Gray opened the door to the long gallery where all his ancestors’ pictures hung. Thankfully, this wing was farthest from the fire and had sustained the least amount of damage.

“It’s
still a beautiful home,” she said when she walked past him to enter the gallery.

“It lost its beauty for me fifteen years ago.”

For a while, he thought she was going to allow his comment to go unanswered.

She clasped her hands behind her back and silently studied the first portrait, then moved to the next. She moved on to the third, then slowly turned her head to look at him.