One Night of Surrender: The Brothers Mortmain, Book 1 (11 page)

BOOK: One Night of Surrender: The Brothers Mortmain, Book 1
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Stop, stop,
the warning voice in her head was shrill, but Katherine refused to hear it above the pounding of her heart.

Then he thrust deep inside her and she was beyond caring about anything but this moment. She had been so close to climaxing already that it only took a couple of heavy thrusts for her body to clench around him. Katherine arched her back, crying out, and he responded with his own shout.

They lay a moment, chests heaving, trying to catch their breath. Slowly Katherine became aware of his weight, the feel of him upon her, so strange and yet so familiar.

Oh no!
This was not what was supposed to happen. Gervais didn’t want her. He’d abandoned her, and she did not want him to think he could just have her whenever the fancy took him. What had she been thinking? What about all the promises she had made to herself? Where was her self-respect?

But Katherine had the uncomfortable feeling her self-respect had put up a very poor fight. Her desire for him had been overwhelming. Like a wild creature locked in a cage, once the door was opened it had burst free.

“This is all wrong!” she wailed.

With a shove she rolled him off her and scrambled to her feet. Then, still half-naked, she fled.

 

Gervais lay a moment, watching her go, his body still racked with the aftermath of pleasure. No reconciliation then, he thought wryly. He’d been hoping that she’d fling herself into his arms and beg for more, not run off without a backward glance.

For a hot-blooded man who’d had no woman since that night in Newgate, Gervais felt as if he had barely brushed the surface of his need.

He climbed to his feet and headed back to the loch to swim off his frustration.

Chapter Thirteen

Katherine sat demurely in the yellow parlour. She had decided to make the small and feminine room her own and so far no one had come to find her. No one seemed to need her help, nor had they bothered to tell her what her duties were. When Anthony was sleeping or Susan was caring for him she seemed to have very little to do, and Katherine was tired of sitting back and letting the world pass her by.

In desperation she had asked the housekeeper what she might do to occupy herself. Mrs MacNee was a severe-faced woman who habitually wore black, but Katherine had seen her smile at Anthony and she knew beneath the stern exterior was a kind heart.

“The master has decreed you are to do as you will, Miss Katherine.”

The master has decreed.

It sounded almost as if she were here as his prisoner, despite her freedom, and Katherine had never intended that. Should she seek him out? But look what had happened the last time she had. She didn’t trust herself close to him; her body betrayed her whenever he was near. Knowing that she should not make love with him for the sake of her heart made no difference to how she physically felt. She wanted him so very much. Ever since the morning on the beach she had felt that aching need building within her again, urging her to make careless decisions.

Katherine had bound her heart up securely and now the wrappings were loosening, some had even unravelled entirely. All her emotion, all her longing for love, was becoming plain for her to see. And yet she could not afford to love him again. That way lay pain and unhappiness and she must not let it happen.

Again she looked around her at the parlour and sighed. The trouble was she had nothing to do, nothing to occupy her thoughts. Surely there was something…? Her gaze sharpened. What this room needed was flowers! She’d always enjoyed arranging flowers at the inn. It was one of her appointed tasks there, something she took pride in. One of the few responsibilities she had control of in her former life. Surely Gervais would not begrudge her a few flowers from the plenty growing in his gardens?

 

Gervais trotted his mount down the long driveway. He should be tired out. He’d ridden for miles, but his body had turned treacherous. One glimpse of Katherine standing in the gardens was enough to have his blood pumping and his cock twitching and thickening.
 

Why did I agree to her coming here?

But he knew why. For the sake of his son he would have done anything. Although, if he was honest, his offer to Katherine had not been entirely to do with Anthony. Gervais had never been able to forget her and when she had appeared at his door in London he’d not thought twice about taking her with him into the Scottish wilds.
 

It hadn’t quite worked out as he’d planned. She didn’t trust him; her hurt was too deep. The episode on the beach hadn’t changed her, but it had awoken something in him that he’d been trying to keep under control. Gervais knew he had to win back her trust but he’d planned to do it slowly, with caution. Ever since the beach he’d felt like a lusting boy, his every waking thought—and every sleeping one too—full of Katherine. He groaned softly as he rode up beside her.

“What are you doing?”

His words came out gruffer than he’d meant and she started, turning to stare up at him. She held in her arms a trug full of flowers. “I am picking flowers. For the castle,” she said warily.

He frowned, and then realised that from his vantage point astride the horse he could see the swell of her naked breasts beneath the neckline of her dress. He edged his mount closer.

“Mrs MacNee can do that. There’s no need for you—”

Katherine’s eyes narrowed. “I have nothing to do,” she said.

Gervais raised an eyebrow. “You have my son.”

For a moment the words seem to form a wall between them.
My son.
But then Katherine tossed her head. Her hair was longer and more lush than it had been before, and her curves were fuller. Bearing his child had done that to her, and his mouth watered at the thought of kissing and licking those lush parts of her.


Our
son,” she corrected him. “And Susan cares for him most of the day, and he sleeps. I need something to do, Gerv… Jerome.”

“You are my guest,” he replied, “and guests do not need to work for their keep.” He meant to please her, to flatter her, but from the expression on her face he’d done the opposite.

“A guest,” she repeated. “Guests can leave whenever they wish, can’t they? Do you wish me to leave, Jerome?”

He opened his mouth to cry
No
, but stopped himself. What if Katherine wanted to go? Should he prevent her for his own selfish reasons? What if she’d decided to take the money and leave Anthony after all?

“Do you want to leave?” he asked her. His gaze watched for the slightest change in her expression, for any clue as to what she was thinking.

She looked down at the flowers, fiddling with the stems. There were shadows under her eyes as if she wasn’t sleeping. Just like he wasn’t sleeping.

“No, I don’t want to leave,” she said softly.

The silence between them grew. Gervais’s horse became restless and he tightened his hold on the reins. “What then?” he said at last in frustration. “Katherine, tell me what you want from me!”

Just for a moment he thought she would. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She looked up at him, and he could see the tension in her beautiful face. “I want something to
do
.”

And suddenly a crazy idea stirred in his sleep-deprived mind. It was his turn to hesitate, to bite back his words. He didn’t want to speak of it yet; he wanted to consider the matter.

Turning his horse toward the stables, Gervais called over his shoulder, “Come to me in an hour. In the library.”

 

Katherine watched him ride away. Her skin was tingling and she had the oddest feeling, as if just now they had been on the brink of settling their differences.

Could they find happiness out of the mess they were in? That is, if Gervais still wanted her. That day on the beach…he’d let her run away without a word. She told herself he could have stopped her if he’d wanted to, one word would have done the trick, but he’d said and done nothing. Was that the action of a man who was interested in rekindling the passion they shared together in Newgate? No, more likely he’d felt a momentary lust, something he might feel for any woman, but it wasn’t enough.

Still, when she went to her room, she brushed her hair till it shone and pinched her cheeks to a healthy-looking pink. She dabbed some jasmine scent behind her ears and then, just in case, between her breasts. Glancing in the mirror she lifted her skirt a little defiantly, and dabbed some of the floral perfume on the tops of her legs as well.

She’d shocked herself. Was she such a wanton that she would try to attract a man who had no emotional interest in her? Indeed who would break her heart all over again?

But she missed his touch, she missed the feel of his body against hers, and the moments on the beach had reawakened that longing with a vengeance. Did it matter if he didn’t love her and she did not trust him?

Of course it mattered. The satisfaction of their bodies was all very well but without love, without trust… Katherine had already lived with a man she’d learned to despise and she didn’t want that again. She knew she had changed, she had a new strength of character, and she wasn’t going to sit quiet as a mouse while others made decisions for her.

He’d said he didn’t want her to leave. What did he want then?

Somewhere in her heart she still believed the two of them could live happily here in the wilderness, however impractical that might seem.

In trepidation, but with a new determination in her step, Katherine went to her appointment in the library.

 

He was sitting by the window, looking out over the garden, and he turned as she entered. The library wasn’t a room she had been in before—it was Gervais’s territory—but now she couldn’t help but notice it was in a sad state. Neglected, the books shelved higgledy-piggledy, some even damaged by damp and dust. Katherine knew that books had souls, so how could anyone allow them to get into such a condition?

“Katherine?”

She started and turned back to him. “I’m sorry, I was… What did you want to speak to me about?” Behind her she could feel all those neglected books pressing on her.

“Sit down,” he replied, his voice gentler than it had been in the garden. “I have something…that is, I need to discuss something with you.”

He didn’t sound as confident as usual, Katherine thought, sitting opposite him across the oak desk. She wondered what it was he had to say that made him so insecure. Now he was fiddling with his pen and inkstand, like a small boy who expects to be disappointed.

His dark eyes met hers and he squared his shoulders. “I have a proposition for you, Katherine.”

She remained silent but inside her head the thoughts were tumbling wildly. No matter what he offered, he would not take Anthony from her. She did not believe him to be a cruel man. Then what was it that was making him so uneasy in her presence?

Her anxiety caused her to shift on her chair, and finally Gervais spoke.

“I didn’t realise how tenuous you felt your position here to be. You are the mother of my child, I thought that would be enough. I realise we’re very isolated here so you cannot go off visiting or…shopping.”

Katherine raised her eyebrows at him. She had never been a particularly outgoing person, and she could hardly go visiting or shopping anyway, could she? Not when Gervais was a fugitive from justice.

“I understand if you are bored, Katherine.”

“I’m not bored,” she said firmly. “But I am used to being busy. Useful. At the inn…I was occupied, and at Anila’s I helped her with her business. I cannot sit idle, Gerv…Jerome. If this was my home then I would feel as if I could make changes or…or do things. But it is not my home and, as you say, I am a mere guest.”

Gervais shifted some papers back and forth. There was a letter just arrived in front of him. For a moment she thought she recognized the Earl of Mortmain’s seal upon it before her thoughts returned to the present. She glanced back again at the bookshelves as a plan popped into her head.

Before he could answer her she leaned forward. “As you may know my father was a scholar and a teacher. He loved books and he passed that love on to me.” She glanced over her shoulder again and shuddered. “Your library is in a dreadful state.”

Her blunt words surprised a laugh from him. “Is it?” he asked, composing himself. “I hadn’t noticed.”

She stood up, walked along the shelves, running her finger across the spines of the books and holding it up for him to see the grime.

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. I think this is the perfect job for me, Jerome. I will organise your library so that it is the envy of the country.”

Gervais wondered whether he should remind her that it was doubtful anyone would ever come to admire it, considering he was in hiding. But he’d never seen her look so excited and he didn’t want to spoil it. Her eyes shone and her face glowed, and even if it wasn’t for the reason he’d hoped he could hardly say no to her.

He was also disappointed. His real purpose in asking her here had been to ask her if she was willing to be his wife. It was selfish of him, probably, but he’d hoped she might consider it. But the words had been difficult to get out, he’d found, once her gaze was fixed on him. She might take offence. He remembered well her fury when she’d thought he was stealing her child. His Katherine had a temper, and although he couldn’t help being disappointed that she wasn’t going to grace his bed every night, he didn’t want to be in her black books again so soon.

BOOK: One Night of Surrender: The Brothers Mortmain, Book 1
5.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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