Pretty Poison (24 page)

“Oh, goodness,” she exclaimed in what he hoped was wonder.

Again and again, he thrust his hard shaft into her welcoming heat, taking her slowly, gently, relentlessly, until little by little she began to move beneath him. She planted her feet firmly beside him, tilted her hips up, moaned low in her throat when he thrust deeper into her body.

“That’s so… Yes… Oh, love… So good…” Her hands on his back tightened, her fingers pressing into his muscles, her nails digging into his flesh.

“Christ, Emily,” he panted against her arched neck as need clawed at him, dark and incessant. It was all he could do to continue the slow gentle pace he’d set, to give her time to find her release. She was close. He could feel it in her shivering limbs, hear it in her low moans and the rasp of her breath against his shoulder.

He reached one hand beneath her, grasped her bottom and lifted her against him as he ground his hips between her legs, pressing his weight heavy and hard on her clit, rocking against her.

“Nicholas” she moaned, her fingers clawing his back, her hips undulating wildly, taking him deeper into her snug warmth.

She began to tremble, her thighs clenched his, her hips bucked against him. With a cry, her body went rigid, her breath left her in one long fractured breath and her inner walls clasped his cock, pulsing, squeezing, milking him.

He turned his head, captured her lips, drank her release, overcome with the pleasure of her, the joy of her and the love of her.

Her climax was long and powerful, her entire body shaking with it. She tore her mouth from his, arched her neck back and moaned, long and low, her hands sweeping down his back to grip his ass and pull him hard against her convulsing body as if she would somehow take him even deeper inside.

Nick rode her pleasure, his shaft pulsating and throbbing, his entire being taut with the longing to thrust into her, harder, heavier, faster.

When he felt her begin to relax, he lowered her to the floor, pressed his open mouth against her shoulder, withdrew until only the head of his cock was sheltered in her heat, sucked in a shaky breath and thrust into her once more.

“Yes,” she murmured, turning her head to rest her warm cheek against his temple. “Oh yes, my love.”

What small semblance of control Nick possessed left him at her soft encouraging words. He reared back, plunged forward. Again and again, until he was mindless, trapped in a web of dark need and desire. His orgasm rushed over him, tightening his balls, drenching him in a film of sweat and prickling heat. Pleasure so intense it bordered on pain seared him as he buried his pulsing cock inside her hot cunny and spent within her welcoming heat.

“Aaaarrrggghh!” he roared, bucking against her, pressing her hard to the floor, his arms wrapped tight around her warm body beneath him, his mouth open and hot against her neck.

For long minutes he held her clasped to him, his breath sawing in and out of his lungs, his pulse beating wildly, his heart racing, his mind numb with satisfaction. Gradually he became aware of Emily shifting beneath him, her hands roaming over his back. He heard a quiet snuffling sound then a long sigh in his ear.

“Emily?” he whispered, too tired to move beyond lifting his head from the crook of her neck to kiss her jaw.

“Mmm,” she murmured.

Drawing in a deep breath, he pulled his arms from where he’d clamped them around her and rose to his elbows over her.

Emily lay quiet and still with her eyes closed and tears trickling down her temples.

“Ah, Em,” he whispered as regret speared him. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head, a wobbly laugh parting her lips. But still she did not open her eyes.

“Love?” He bent to kiss the trail of tears from the corner of her eye into her damp curls. “Emily?”

“Oh, Nicholas,” she said, her voice trembling.

“Please,” he begged. “I know I was too rough, too fast. It’ll be better next time. Love please look at me.”

Her dewy eye lashes fluttered, slowly lifted to reveal bright green eyes, soft and wet.

“I never knew,” she whispered, her lips lifting into a gentle smile. “It was...so unbelievably…unimaginably… I don’t… I can’t find words… Just glorious and wonderful and amazing.”

“Ah, Em.” Nick pressed his lips to hers, capturing the smile that lingered and the shaky breath that flowed out of her.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, his lips wandering over her, drifting across her flushed cheek, along her jaw and down her neck until he came to rest over the pulse that beat beneath her soft skin, a gentle tattoo. “So perfect.”

“Yes,” she agreed, her arms tightening on his back. “It was perfect.”

Nick laughed weakly before replying, “I was talking about you, love. You’re perfect.”

Emily stilled. “I’m not.”

“Perfect.”

“Oh, I wish it were so,” she replied quietly.

Nick looked into her eyes sparkling in the light of the fire. “You are perfect for me, Emily.”

“I will be. I promise you, I will be good.” Her words were low and fierce and Nick wondered what ghosts lurked in her heart, what secret sorrow suddenly held her so tense.

“Good?” he repeated in surprise. “I don’t want you to be good. I just want you to be you, Emily.”

“There are things…” she hesitated, took a quick breath. “I was so foolish on the journey, and more foolish still when I arrived in London… I wish I could tell you…”

“Oh, sweetheart, you can,” he assured her. “When you are ready you can tell me whatever you like.”

“You might… I don’t know… You might not understand… You will be disappointed… Even disgusted…”

“Emily,” he interrupted her stammering words, his heart breaking for her. “Whatever it is, it will not change how I feel about you.”

“You cannot know that,” she argued.

“I can and I do,” he replied confidently. “I love you Emily Ann Calvert and I always will.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“There’s my girl!” Charles Calvert’s booming voice greeted Emily as she descended the stairs the following day just before noon.

“Morning, Da,” Emily replied with a smile.

“Morning?” Viscount Talbot came to stand beside her father on the landing. “It’s near afternoon!”

“Oh, leave the poor girl be,” Margaret exclaimed as she joined them. “Emily Ann you come in and have a bite to eat. Cook saved you a coddled egg and a bit of ham.”

Emily looked from her aunt’s smiling face to the two gentlemen beside her who appeared ready to burst into a fit of glee. Something odd was going on and she had the sneaking suspicion she knew just what it was.

“Where’s Nicholas?” Emily skirted around her grinning father and Lord Talbot to follow her aunt into the dining room.

“The lot of them went into the village,” Margaret replied. “Seems the ladies wanted to do a spot of shopping and the gentlemen were wrangled into escorting them. Only those two idiots stayed behind to entertain me.”

Emily ate a plate of eggs and ham while her aunt sat beside her regaling her with tales of the strange goings on during the night.

“I was awoken to the sounds of doors opening and closing up and down the hall all night,” she complained. “I finally sent Andy to investigate and who do you suppose he saw creeping around in the dark?”

“Who?” Emily asked.

“The Nasty Baggage, that’s who.”

“Really? What was she doing?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Margaret replied. “But one would suppose she was either on her way to a gentleman’s room or returning from one.”

“Whose?”

“Well now that’s the question. I would conjecture it was either Mr. Kildare or Mr. Boone.”

“Not Mr. Boone surely,” Emily argued, trying to picture the jovial older man with Veronica Ogilvie in his arms.

“Oh, I don’t know. He’s the brother of an Earl. She would gain entrance to all the finest homes as his wife.”

“But he’s so…”

“Old?” Margaret finished for her. “Fat?”

“Well, yes,” Emily admitted.

“He’s a cheerful fellow who would give her the world,” Margaret replied. “And he has deuced large hands.”

“What on earth is your fascination with gentlemen’s hands?” Emily demanded on a huff of laughter.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t figured it out yet, Em,” Margaret replied with a lift of her brow. “I know where Nicholas has been spending his nights.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Emily exclaimed.

“Oh, don’t pretend the innocent with me,” Margaret admonished. “I know everything that goes on in this house.”

“You don’t know whose room Ronnie O was visiting.”

“I will before the day is over. And don’t think to change the subject.”

“What subject would that be?” Emily asked innocently.

“The one in which you thank me,” Margaret replied cheerfully.

“And just what should I be thanking you for?”

“Why, for matching you with a handsome young man with large hands.”

“What on earth are you…?” Emily stopped on a gasp. “You mean his hands…and his… Well… One has to do with the other?”

Margaret erupted into giggles, her eyes sparkling, her hands fluttering around her bosom. “Oh, Em, you are priceless, dearest.”

“Well, how would I know such a thing?” Emily demanded indignantly. “And anyway, we are not matched yet.”

“Emily, Nicholas spoke with your father this morning,” Margaret replied carefully.

“He did?” She wasn’t certain why the news surprised her. She’d promised to marry him, had gifted him with her virginity. Still, she’d thought… Well she didn’t know what she’d thought.

“Nicholas did propose to you, didn’t he?” Margaret asked.

“Yes, but...”

“And you accepted?”

“Yes, but…”

“It naturally follows that he would speak with your father.”

“Yes, but…”

“Honestly, Emily, Nicholas is a gentleman. Of course he asked Charlie for your hand.”

“Of course,” Emily agreed. “I just didn’t realize he intended to do so today. We hadn’t discussed when we would make the announcement or how.”

“Emily, this little party is nearly over,” Margaret pointed out patiently. “In three days we will all be heading back to Town.”

“I know,” Emily murmured.

“The Avery family’s creditors are likely lined up on their doorstep waiting even now,” her aunt said. “Nicholas simply cannot return without some promise of future payment to offer them.”

Emily was startled by the reminder of Nicholas’s need for her fortune. Somehow she’d allowed herself to forget the financial elements of their courtship. She’d been so caught up in the passion she’d discovered in his arms that she’d simply forgotten his family’s need for a hasty marriage and a hefty settlement.

“You know Nicholas cares for you,” Lady Margaret said when her niece only looked at her without replying.

“I know,” Emily agreed. “He loves me.”

“He’s told you, then?” her aunt asked softly.

“Yes.”

Margaret let out a shaky breath, a wide smile transforming her face. “So, it’s settled then. We’ll make the announcement tonight at dinner.”

“Could we not wait until the final night of the house party?”

“Whatever for?”

“I want to tell Nicholas about my fall into the laudanum bottle before things are set in stone, so he has the chance to call off the marriage should he choose to do so.” Emily’s words came out in a rush lest she lose the courage to speak them.

“He will not change his mind,” Margaret declared firmly and Emily wished she shared her aunt’s confidence.

“All the same,” she replied. “I ought to give him the opportunity and I will, just as soon as I work up the nerve. I only hope Da and Lord Talbot can contain themselves until I do.”

“You leave Charlie and Andy to me,” Margaret said. “I’ll take them aside for a word. They’ll behave themselves or have me to answer to.”

“Thank you.” Emily squeezed her aunt’s hand where it rested on the table between them.

“Hush, there’s nothing I like better than taking those two recalcitrant boys to task,” Margaret responded as they rose to their feet.

“To be sure I know it will be the highlight of your day.” Emily turned from her aunt, called out over her shoulder, “But that wasn’t what I was thanking you for.”

“No?”

“Lady Maggie went to town, to find her niece a husband, never mind what’s in his hat, he has wonderfully large hands!” Emily sang out to the tune of “Yankee Doodle” as she left the dining room.

Lady Margaret’s rollicking laughter followed her through the doorway when she turned into the hall and came face to face with the other party-goers returning from their journey to town.

Lady Bernice stumbled to a halt beside Nicholas, causing Lucinda Davis to plow into her back.

“Oh, pardon me,” Lucinda cried, her face flaming and her china-doll eyes wide.

“Sorry,” Bernice mumbled as she stepped aside.

“Large hands?” Mary Endicott murmured, her gaze falling to Nick’s hands hanging down at his sides.

Mr. Kildare barked out a laugh, attempted to turn it into a cough, his brown eyes crinkling as they met Emily’s horrified gaze. Heat washed over her and spots danced before her eyes.

“Lands,” Mrs. Sanderson called out. “Mr. Avery has wonderfully large lands!”

“To the North, I believe,” the Duchess of Martindale was quick to add.

“Right you are, my lady,” Mr. Endicott bellowed. “A large estate somewhere near Derbyshire.”

“I don’t know about any lands to the North,” Veronica Ogilvie drawled, her mocking glance taking in Emily’s flushed cheeks. “But Mr. Avery does possess inordinately large hands.”

Nicholas sucked in a deep breath, snapped his mouth shut and closed his eyes. He stood perfectly still for three beats of Emily’s heart and then his eyes popped open, he threw his head back and let loose a roar of laughter. His rumbling laughter reverberated around the hall, bouncing off the walls, echoing to the ceiling and back down to ricochet off the marble floor. His wide shoulders shook with it, his chest rising and falling as he tried to gain control of his merriment.

Emily attempted to recover her composure, she truly did. She sucked in her cheeks, bit her bottom lip and looked away from her laughing fiancé, all in an unsuccessful attempt to recapture what little dignity she could. It was no use.

Tears rushed to her eyes, her lower lip began to tremble and her shoulders began to shake. Emotion bubbled up in her chest, traveled up her throat, pushed against her puckered lips. With a strangled cry, she spun away from the shocked eyes of her friends, took two wobbly steps and reached one shaking hand out to rest on the wall beside her.

“Emily!” Nick called to her, his voice unsteady as he tried valiantly to contain his amusement.

Emily gave up the battle. With an unladylike snort, she exploded into a fit of giggles that stole her breath, sent tears streaming down her cheeks and set her entire frame to shaking.

From behind her she heard Bernice let out an amused cackle that sent Emily into further hilarity until she doubled over, clutching her belly.

Pandemonium ensued as embarrassed and exasperated parents tried to herd their innocent daughters from the hall. Into the front parlor and up the stairs, Emily heard the pitter patter of dainty feet and whispered questions.

“What just happened?” Lucinda Davis whispered.

“Why was she singing about his hands?” Mary Endicott asked.

Turning her head, Emily watched through blurry eyes as Mr. Endicott ushered his daughter into the parlor before tossing her an amused look and softly closing the door.

“Emily,” Nicholas groaned around the remnants of a raspy laugh. He dashed a hand across his eyes and walked slowly to where she stood leaning against the wall.

“I…” she began, but the sight of his laughing eyes and flushed cheeks set her off again. She turned and fell against his chest, burying her flaming face against his shirt as laughter tumbled from her lips once more. His arms came around her and he pulled her into a tight embrace. They stood wrapped in one another’s arms, rocking back and forth, giggling like two school children, lost in their own little world of happiness and shared humor. Neither noticed their fathers turning away to wander down the hall toward the library for a celebratory three fingers of Margaret’s best Irish whiskey.