Rory (4 page)

Lord help her, but she had the most insane desire to spread her legs wide and arch against him. What would it feel like to have him buried deep inside her, this man who had been making love to another woman scant minutes before?

He took his weight off her chest by propping himself up on his elbows. At least she wasn’t being crushed and could perhaps start thinking clearly.

He stared down at her, his face inches from hers. Good God, he was so perfect it almost hurt to look at him.

Still supporting his own weight, he continued to watch her. His thumbs brushed gently across her temples. “You are so striking with your pale hair and eyes. And incredibly delicate. I feel like you could break if I am not careful.”

Well, apparently he wasn’t
that
concerned, because he wasn’t budging.

An image of him and Candice flashed before her eyes and she frowned. “You’re crushing me.” She gave him one final shove.

Something that resembled disappointment flashed in his eyes before he rolled off of her and onto his back. Thank God the sheet was still draped about his waist, but it did little to hide his enormous erection.

She slid off the bed, straightened her skirts, and cleared her throat. “I-I shall return shortly.”

R
ory sat forward in the bath as Shannon washed his broad back. She had spoon-fed him broth, insisting he finish the entire bowlful before he stepped foot in the water, and he had done so, if only to pacify her. He had absolutely no appetite, but he enjoyed her care and attention too much to deny her. And she took her duty quite seriously.

“Where are you from, Shannon?” he asked, and he felt her stiffen.

“Scotland.”

Little liar. He had heard the Irish brogue slip through more than once in their conversations. “Where in Scotland?”

“A small village near Inverness,” she said, sounding uncomfortable with the discussion.

“Why did you leave?”

“There was more opportunity in London.”

He could hardly argue with that. “What of your family?”

“Dead.”

Perhaps that’s where her hesitation came from. Suddenly, he felt guilty for pushing her.

“I’m sorry.”

She began soaping his hair vigorously, her nails scraping his scalp. Honestly, he enjoyed the feel of her touching him, even if she was being a bit rough. He smiled inwardly and remembered the feel of her body beneath him when they’d fallen onto the bed, the soft mounds of her breasts pressed against his chest, the way his cock had nestled between the juncture of her thighs. If he hadn’t been mistaken, she’d lifted her hips just the slightest bit too.

He wondered if she could read minds, because she abruptly dumped a pitcher of water over his head without warning him.

Wiping his hands down his face, he looked at her with brow furrowed. “You could have forewarned me, you know?”

He glanced down at the now wet dressing.

“I’m so sorry. I thought I did,” she said sweetly.

Too sweetly.

He shook his head. “No, you didn’t.”

Her gaze shifted to the top of his head. “Ye still have suds in your hair, my lord.”

Ah, she’d slipped again with the brogue. He watched her closely, gauging her reaction to see if she realized that she’d done as much, and her cheeks turned pink. But was the blush because of the slipup or because he was staring at her? She had such fragile features, perfectly sculpted, and he loved the way her top lip curved upward. Lord, but how he wanted to taste those lips.

She looked away and abruptly moved directly behind him. Dipping the pitcher in the tub, her hand came very close to his buttocks. He glanced over his shoulder and saw her gaze fasten on his lower back.

He grinned. She might pretend indifference, but he could sense interest. He wondered if she had any experience at all.
The majority of the women he’d been with knew their way around the bedchamber, but he had a feeling Shannon was as innocent as she looked.

Letting his head fall back on his shoulders, he closed his eyes. “All right, I’m ready.”

This time she didn’t dump, but rather poured the water slowly, the fingers of her free hand sliding through his hair.

Shannon wondered how many women would envy her position right now. To have Lord Ambrose naked in a tub, weak and defenseless, was a novelty, and one she was enjoying far too much for her own good.

And now at least all traces of his liaison with Candice had been washed away. The servant had been talking with her husband when Shannon had walked into the kitchen and ordered the soup and a bath. Frank had even inquired about his lordship’s health.

Candice, wearing a fresh new uniform, was doing everything to change the subject.

Frank had kissed her affectionately on the cheek, and Shannon had to walk away. She hated deceit in every way. Her mother had been a loyal wife to her father and her father loyal in return. Loyalty and trust were qualities that would always be very important to her.

Loyalty and trust were not attributes of this particular Rayborne brother, who was better known for his activities in the bedchamber and who he’d killed on the dueling field, over anything of merit.

“My lord, do you make it a habit of sleeping with other men’s wives?” Her eyes widened when she realized she’d said the words aloud.

Rory settled back against the tub’s edge. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

She frowned, surprised he’d admitted as much. “Why, when a man such as you could never be in short supply of a willing woman?”

He shrugged. “I suppose being with a married woman is just easier and less complicated.”

What kind of an answer was that? “How could being with another man’s wife possibly be easier and less complicated? Do you not feel in the least bit guilty knowing that you are helping that person break a vow?”

His brow furrowed as though he was really contemplating the matter, and after a few moments, he said, “Actually, I don’t. I am not married, so it need not bother my conscience.”

He truly was a devil. Completely insufferable. “Not in the least bit?”

He shrugged. “Not in the least bit.”

“What if your wife were to do the same to you?”

His blue eyes narrowed as though the very idea were preposterous. “First off, I would
never
marry a woman who would be unfaithful.”

She could not keep the smile from her lips. Did he honestly believe that he could control such a thing?

“Do I humor you, Shannon?” he asked, his dark brow lifted high.

“Forgive me for my impertinence, my lord, but how would you know if your wife were unfaithful? Unless you noted her every move, she could possibly be seeing someone else behind your back.”

“I would know,” he said matter-of-factly.

Just because he was a master at deceit, didn’t mean he would recognize an unfaithful wife’s sins. “I think you are far too confident, my lord. For all those husbands you have cuckolded, you could very well find yourself in the same position one day.”

He eased farther down into the water, and she forced her gaze away from his impressive anatomy. “You can say whatever you wish, Shannon, but when I marry, it will be to a woman with a sterling reputation.”

She refrained from rolling her eyes. “Of course. God forbid that your wife ask the same of you in return,” she said, tossing the rag at him.

“I’m too tired to bathe myself,” he said, handing the rag back to her.

He was worse than a child. “I will not bathe you when you are clearly capable.”

“Please,” he said, his voice both urgent and needy.

With an exaggerated sigh, she lathered the rag with the wonderfully scented soap and began washing his chest and the muscled planes of his taut belly.

A strange excited feeling came over her. An unfamiliar sensation, and she tried with all her might to wish it away.

She skipped over his anatomy and went to work on his legs. He yawned and she was happy to see he was getting tired again. Hopefully he would fall asleep before he demanded she read to him. After the past hour especially, she felt the need to be as far away from him as possible.

If it wasn’t for the fact her responsibilities of caring for him excused her from her usual duties, then she would have asked another maid to take her place. But she had enjoyed the freedom this position afforded her, and truth be told, there were worse things than watching over a wealthy, handsome lord. Even if that wealthy, handsome lord was arrogant to a fault and a dangerous rakehell to boot.

She finished washing his feet, between his toes, and then stood. Reaching for the towel, she lifted it up, effectively hiding his body from her. “Step out, please,” she said, turning her head away.

She could feel his gaze on her. Was he smirking at her?

Biting her lip, lest she say something she regret, she proceeded to dry him off, trying all the while not to think how absolutely delightful he smelled. The oils she had used in the bath water to ease his body aches smelled heavenly, and mixed with his own musky scent, they made her want to sigh. And even more, the oils made the water droplets cling to his lovely olive skin.

She swallowed past the tightness in her throat as she dried his strong back, the high curve of his buttocks, and his long, muscular legs.

Before she finished, he turned, his cock full in her face, and it was not flaccid. Indeed, it jutted proudly from the nest of dark hair.

Her pulse skittered.

Standing abruptly, she pushed the towel into his hands and stepped toward the bed, pulling down the sheets.

He approached the bed, and she felt like taking a step back for every one he took forward. He unsettled her like no one else.

Tossing the towel aside, he knelt on the bed and then flopped onto his back with a sigh. Not bothering to cover his loins, he winced as he touched his wound.

Her cheeks burned, much as the blood within her veins. An unfamiliar need coursed through her, making her feel alive in a way she’d never before experienced.

It was all his fault. How she wished he would convalesce somewhere else. Perhaps she would ask for another servant to tend to him, but then an image of him doing what he did to Candice, to one of the countless other maids in the household came to mind, and she knew she would endure.

You want him for yourself, an inner voice said.

It was true….She
did
want Rory.Her body didn’t lie.

He watched her, and she wondered if he knew the scandalous thoughts racing through her mind. She licked her lips and his gaze shifted to her mouth. When he met her gaze once more, his eyes looked darker, heavy-lidded.

Oh dear.

She yanked the sheet up past his firm belly, fluffed the pillow beside his head and then set about bandaging the wound. He stared at her, barely blinking, which made her exceedingly nervous.

It didn’t take her long at all to finish her task, and with a final look at her workmanship, she made a move for the door.

“I thought you were going to read to me.”

She cleared her throat. “I fear I forgot the book. Perhaps tomorrow. Plus, you need your rest anyway.”

He turned his head and looked at her. “Go get the book, Shannon.”

“But you are so tired. You can barely keep your eyes open,” she said, in one final effort to change his mind.

His long lashes cast shadows upon his cheekbones. “I want you to read to me. I will not relent, so you may as well go get a book.”

Her nails bit into her palms. He was so annoying! “It has been a trying day. Perhaps I can send someone else. I do believe Candice would be more to your liking.”

“I want you.” He said the words so matter-of-factly, it made her pause.

When she could once again think straight, she swallowed and inclined her head. “Very well, if you insist. I shall be right back.”

She closed the door behind her and walked leisurely down the long hallway and down the stairs to the library. If she took
her time, then it was her hope that he would fall asleep while she was gone, and she would not have to endure any more of his attitude for the rest of the evening.

The library had floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookcases stuffed full of tomes. Shannon had always loved reading as a child, and could spend an entire afternoon getting lost in another world. Since leaving Ireland she had not had the time to read. Being a servant, she had learned that one’s time was not one’s own, and she always fell into bed exhausted each night.

She ran across a copy of Robert Burns’s latest poems and slipped it in a pocket. The grandfather clock in the corner ticked away the minutes. Indeed, she was surprised when she noted she’d been gone for a good half hour and decided she had dallied long enough.

Walking up the stairs, she realized how very tired, both mentally and physically, she had become.

She had known the servants her family had employed had been hardworking, but she’d never realized until now just how hardworking. If she ever saw them again, she would tell them just how much she appreciated their efforts.

She paused outside Rory’s chamber door, hoping more than anything he would be snoring on the other side.