Pride and Fire (13 page)

She located a lovely little sitting room just off of the foyer. It was sparsely decorated, as was the parlor. It did have quite a few books on the shelves against one wall, however. It could serve as a sort of library. She placed her hands on her hips. “Perhaps I should have the furnishings from my room at Mother’s sent over to fill the space?” She walked over to a large empty space near the bookshelves. “Yes, my chaise would look lovely here. And the matching wing chair would be perfect for settling down to read.”

She added the information to her lists and left the room, bound for Paul’s study.

Michelle found the room easily enough, correctly assuming it was the one with the door closed tight. What could warrant his attention all morning long? She rapped lightly on the wood and waited for her husband’s response.

“Yes?” he said from behind the door.

“It’s me, Paul,” she answered. “May I come in?”

Paul was silent for a moment. “Certainly.”

She opened the door and found him at his desk. He smiled absently at her and returned his attention to the pile of papers in front of him. He gathered them and quickly stuffed them into a drawer.

“If you’re busy, I can leave you to your work,” she said.

“Nonsense, love.” He rose from his chair and came from behind his desk. “I’m never too busy for my wife,” he added, taking her hand in his.

His simply-spoken words pleased her to her toes. They shared a tender kiss. He brought her to one of the chairs facing his desk and bade her to sit. She did so, watching him as he leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. He’d removed his jacket, and his silver-gray waistcoat made his shirt appear snowy white. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and her fingers itched to caress his strong forearms. She finally looked up at his face to find him watching her expectantly.

“W-what?” she stammered. “Did you say something?”

“I asked what those papers are in your hands,” he said.

Her brow furrowed. She recovered herself and waved the papers at him dismissively. “Oh, these are just some notes I made.”

“Notes? May I see them?”

“I admit I am curious to gain your opinion.” Michelle handed the papers to him. “Though apparently you never gave much care to such things.”

She watched as his eyes flicked over first one page then the next. His scowl took her by surprise.

“What is all this about?” he asked, his voice low.

She blinked. “I thought I could—”

“Do you find my home unsuitable?”

“What? No,” she answered. “I don’t understand your reaction, Paul. I simply wished to—”

Paul shoved the papers back into her hands, his eyes hard.

She looked at him in dismay. “I merely wrote down some ideas,” she said. “I do not see why you’re angry.”

“I am not angry!”

She frowned at him. “Don’t shout at me!” She stood and spun toward the door. “I thought to make our home more inviting, but I can see you think of it as yours and yours alone.”

“Michelle, wait.”

She took a step away from him. “Forgive me for my impertinence.”

“Michelle.”

When he caught her arm and gently turned her back to him, she glared up at him. “What do you want? I must see to my correspondence and apparently nothing else.”

“I’m sorry, love,” he said. “I didn’t mean to get angry with you.”

“You never do,” she muttered.

Reluctant laughter came from him. He sat her back down in the chair. “May I see your notes again?”

She hesitated for a moment before handing them over. He looked them over with true interest.

“Let’s see what you have here. You see the house in a softer, more appealing light,” he observed. “The fabric and colors… I think you have some pleasing notions here, wife.” He handed her back the sheets of paper. “I draw the line at redecorating our chamber, however.”

Michelle arched a brow at him. “Oh?” she teased. “You don’t wish to have rose brocade draped over your bed?”

He pulled her up out of the chair. “I only wish to have you draped over my bed.”

Her cheeks heated at what he suggested. He lowered his head and captured her lips with his. The kiss was gentle and meant to tease.

He pulled back and smiled at her. “Now what would you like to do this afternoon?”

She opened her mouth to answer him but a knock came on the door.

Paul sighed irritably. “Yes?”

“Lord and Lady Brockton to see you, My Lord,” Starks informed him.

“Damn,” he muttered.

“Don’t you like them, Paul?” Michelle asked.

“What? Oh, yes,” he said. “I like them. Only I realize we’re going to be swamped with callers from now on.”

She placed her hands on her hips and quirked a half-smile at him. “And don’t you like having callers?”

“No one’s ever really called on me before, officially in any event,” he answered. “But now that we’re married, I suppose I will have to get used to it.”

“Oh,” she nodded. “Now I understand.”

He pulled her close to him. “And just what is it you understand, Michelle?”

“You don’t want to share me with anyone.”

“Damn right, I don’t.”

He sealed his declaration with a deep kiss. He released her and shrugged back into his jacket. “Come, wife. Let’s go to the parlor to meet our guests.”

* * * *

Lord and Lady Brockton were the first callers of many that morning. Paul hadn’t realized how popular his beautiful wife was. Quite a few ladies, and more gentlemen than Paul might have liked, called on the newlyweds that day. Just as it seemed the day would at last be theirs, Lady Helen arrived. Paul left the ladies then, taking the opportunity to finish his morning’s work.

He entered his study and closed the door. He picked up Michelle’s lists from the chair and thought back to his reaction. He winced. “Bloody hot-headed fool.”

He’d thought she found his home lacking and ill-suited to her. Shaking his head, he sat back down behind his desk and finished the speech he was currently writing.

Sometime later another knock came at the study door.

“Paul?” Michelle called. “May I come in?”

“Please,” he answered.

He was relieved to have an excuse to put his work aside. His brain ached from puzzling over one prickly subject after another. He favored his wife with a smile as she entered the room.

“Are you still working?” she asked.

“Um, no,” he lied. “I was reviewing my ledgers.”

She nodded and crossed over to the window. She gazed outside, a faraway expression on her face.

He placed his hands behind his head and leaned back. “What are you thinking about, love?”

Michelle turned back to him. “Oh, I wonder if every day is going to be like this one.”

Paul heard the resignation in her voice. He smiled and patted his knee. “Come here, wife.” She did as he asked, settling herself in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “Didn’t you enjoy our callers?”

She shrugged. “I would have preferred to spend the time alone with you.”

“That admission pleases me.” He placed a kiss on her silken hair and let out a breath. More than just her words pleased him.

She raised her head to look at him and suddenly blushed.

“Is something troubling you, Michelle?” he asked.

She obviously wanted to ask him something, but was embarrassed to bring up the topic. He could guess the subject and hid his smile.

“No,” she answered. “I wondered… Oh, never mind.”

“Wondered what, love?”

She looked him squarely in the eye then. “Paul, you said it wouldn’t hurt the next time and it did.”

He reached out and stroked her cheek. “It was too soon. I tried to wait, but you were very insistent.”

She arched a brow at him. “I seem to recall you were in full agreement at the time.”

He chuckled over her statement.

She briefly returned his smile before a frown settled on her face once more. “Will it hurt again tonight?”

He thought for a moment. “It might. Would you rather we didn’t try?”

“No.”

Paul grinned. “Thank God.” He hugged her to him and settled back in the chair. The feel of his wife in his arms turned his thoughts to the coming evening.

“Ah, Michelle,” he said. “Tonight I’ll put my mouth on you and you’ll love it.”

She pulled back to stare at him. “But, you did put your mouth… Oh, my! You cannot mean to…”

He simply nodded and let her imagination work for a few moments.

“But,” she began, “that is not—”

“We’re married, Michelle. Anything we do with each other is perfectly all right.”

“Truly?” she asked in wonder.

He watched her as her mind worked. He didn’t have to wait long to find out what his wife was thinking.

“Can I put my mouth on you?” she asked.

Paul shuddered. He closed his eyes and breathed in sharply. “God, yes.”

She shifted in his lap and he held her hips to still her, already painfully aware of his arousal. She settled herself against his shoulder once more as he stroked her back and tried to block the image of her perfect mouth and what she proposed to do with it.

When Starks announced tea time he was almost relieved. Michelle stood and smoothed down her skirts. Paul followed her into the parlor where they shared a pot of tea.

“I propose we forego the usual rounds of parties tonight, love.”

“Perhaps you have the right of it,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Pray, tell me why?”

“I’m tired of sharing your company,” he told her. “Tonight I want your attention focused solely on me.”

The smile she gave him promised much of their quiet evening at home.

* * * *

Later that night Michelle emerged from the dressing room in another deliciously filmy nightgown of lawn.

“Michelle,” Paul said softly.

Michelle took in her husband’s appearance where he reclined on the bed. The sheets were down around his waist and his chest and shoulders looked dark against the white pillows. His arms rested on his bent knees. She looked at his strong hands, hands she knew could hold and caress her gently. Her skin tingled against her nightgown, flushed and begging for his touch. Her pulse quickened when he crooked a finger at her.

“Come here, wife,” he said, his voice husky.

She joined him on the bed, placing her hands behind his neck. “What do you want, husband?”

His beautiful blue eyes glittered at her. “You.”

He kissed her, his tongue gently caressing her lips. She opened her mouth for him, moaning in the back of her throat. Turning, he effortlessly pinned her beneath him on the bed and stared down at her.

“Ah, Michelle,” he rasped. “Do you want me?”

“Oh, yes.”

He breathed in sharply and grabbed a handful of her hair. Slowly twisting it in his fist, he gently urged her head back. He kissed her deeply, tasting all she had to offer. She rubbed her tongue against his, tasting his passion. He removed her nightgown and ran his hands over her silken skin.

“You feel incredible,” he whispered.

She arched under his caresses as he stroked her breasts. His mouth took over for his hands, teasing her. His tongue circled one nipple, causing her to gasp. He drew the sensitive bud into his mouth and she whimpered, her fingers tunneling through his hair to hold him tightly against her. He soon trailed his lips down the front of her.

He flicked his tongue in her navel, causing her to shudder. He gently parted her legs and placed his mouth on her very center.

“Paul!”

She lost all thought as his tongue stroked the folds of her. She’d never felt anything like it before. Not even the passion of their wedding night surpassed the feelings he aroused in her now. She clutched at the sheets, trying desperately to hold on as sensations washed over her. Her body bowed back, craving more of the sweet torment. His rasping tongue found the very spot that drove her out of her mind. She shook with her release as she cried out his name.

He came up and entered her. She squeezed him inside of her, finding her second release with her next heartbeat. He shook as he joined her in fulfillment, burying his face in her neck.

“Michelle,” he breathed. “That was unbelievable.”

“You were right, Paul.” She opened her eyes and stared up at him. “You put your mouth on me and I loved it.”

His laughter sounded a bit strangled and she thought perhaps he loved it, too. He hugged her to him and sighed. They fell asleep still joined together.

Chapter 13

The next morning, Paul left Michelle slumbering in their bed and went into the dressing room to change. He could hear her mumbling as she came awake, and didn’t feel one bit of remorse for causing her fatigue. She’d certainly worn him out.

His wife’s passion pleased him, and he could still taste her release on his tongue. Thank God he’d pressed for a quick wedding. Again he’d climaxed inside of her. If he didn’t start taking precautions they’d soon celebrate a quick christening.

“Paul,” Michelle called from the bedroom. “How well do you know Lord Burns?”

Paul stepped out of the dressing room, his shirt half-buttoned, and glanced at where she sat at her vanity. “Well enough, I suppose. Why do you ask?”

“He made some comments the other evening that seemed… improper.”

Had the man mentioned his work? Would he be that brazen?

“What precisely did that little weasel say to you?”

“I’m certain it was nothing.” Michelle turned to face him. “He made a comment about coming to an arrangement with me.”

“What type of arrangement?” he asked, keeping his voice low and even.

She apparently wasn’t fooled by his tone of voice – her eyes narrowed and she shook her head. “I’m sorry I ever broached the subject.”

He crossed to her. “What type of arrangement, Michelle?”

“I believe he wanted—”

“I know just what the bastard wanted. Why would he think to approach you with such a proposition?”

She stood and lifted her chin as she looked him in the eyes. “You don’t think I encouraged his attentions, do you?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“But why would he make such an offer?”