Sacrifice (Fashionably Impure Book 3) (13 page)

Now
that his internal excitement had burst, Davey became shy answering Adrian’s
fatherly questions with one word answers and looking to Miranda, as though for
reassurance.

The
topic came around to Davey’s studies and Adrian smiled with satisfaction to
hear that a tutor had been employed. The gesture accentuated his thinness and
Miranda’s heart contracted. Before she could help it, a sound between a gasp
and a cry escaped her. She clamped a hand over her mouth.

Davey’s
eyes grew wide and he glanced from her to Adrian.

“Go
find your tutor, Davey,” Adrian said, giving Davey’s hair a tussle.

“But
surely I don’t have to study today!” Davey turned sad eyes to Miranda. “Papa
has only just returned.”

She
let her hand drop from her mouth. “You must always obey your Papa.”

“But
Mama, please.”

Adrian
shot her a surprised look.

But
there was no condemnation in his eyes.

“Hurry
along, Davey, we’ll all have supper together later,” she said, firmly.

“Aye,
so we will,” Adrian said, placing his hand on Davey’s shoulders and ushering
him out of the chamber then locking the door.

Adrian
approached her.

Chapter Nine

So many
questions burned the tip of Miranda’s tongue, she scarcely knew where to begin.

Adrian’s
eyes glowed with desire. He grasped her waist and jerked her to himself. His
thinness alarmed her all over again. Made her melt with sympathy so strong, it
made her chest ache.

Emotions
overcame her, freezing her brain.

She
wanted only to get closer to him.

To hold
him firmly and pray this was not a dream from which she would soon awaken.

He bent
and pressed his lips to her neck. “Miranda, Miranda.” He spoke her name
breathlessly. His erection throbbed against her, attesting that despite his
relative thinness, he was recovered.

Very
much alive.

Joy
spread through every part of her. Making her weak at the knees. He cupped her
breast then he groaned, the deep sound vibrating through her, filling her with
desire. Driving all her questions away. He lifted her into his arms, shaking as
he did so.

And he
had certainly never shaken with the effort to lift her before.

Everything
that Sexton and Drake had told her had not seemed real. Not completely.

Not
until this moment.

All this
time she’d thought herself suffering with the pain of longing for him, worrying
over him.

And she
had suffered.

But now
it was as if a veil of shielding, layers of self-protection, had been stripped
away and she felt for the pain he had suffered with raw intensity.

She felt
her love for him with painful intensity like never before.

He
could just as easily have been lying in his grave now as here, alive and
touching me.

Tears of
concern and pain sprang to her eyes, even as she accepted his burning kiss and
answered with a fiery passion of her own. He placed her on the settee then
knelt before her, reaching behind her and deftly unfastening her gown, pulling
at tapes and laces and soon had her breasts free.

He
caressed them, teased them and suckled her nipples, sending delight tingling
through her. Sending her swooning.

He
lifted his head. “How I have longed to touch you.”

He
lifted her skirts then parted her legs and shoved his head between them. “How I
have longed for the scent of you.”

He let
his tongue dance over her aroused flesh. She closed her eyes and moaned with
the intense sensation.

“And I
have longed for the sweet taste of you…” He continued to tongue her. Not the
soft, feathery strokes he usually teased her with but bold, hungry strokes.

She
tightened her thighs, squeezing his head, clutching his shoulders and moaning
his name.

He
thrust his tongue into her core.

She
arched. “I want your cock.”

He moved
his tongue inside her.

She
arched more desperately. “Please, please! I want you inside me, I want your
cock!” she whispered, hearing the frantic note enter her voice.

He arose
and crawled up her body to kiss her. She pushed him back and reached to help
him shed his clothing. But when she had him bared to his shirt and reached for
his long shirttails, intending to lift them to access his erection, he stopped
her. “Not yet, not this moment.”

And she
knew he meant that he didn’t wish to reveal his injury. His scars…

How bad
could those scars be? How deeply had he been wounded?

“Is it
so horrible?” she asked.

“Hush,”
he said as he mounted her.

After
all he had been through, he would still strive to lock her out of something so
intimate… A prickle of hurt threatened to break through her passionate haze.

“But I
am your wife,” she said. “I want to share everything about you.”

“Later.”

His
voice held that same implacable tone she’d heard time and time before. No
amount of reasoning or pleading would change his mind. That little prickle of
hurt grew deeper.

He
leaned forwards and pressed a series of open-mouthed kisses to her breasts.
“Everything must wait until later. Until after this.” He took her nipple into
his mouth and sucked, sending wave upon wave of pure delight shuddering deep
into her belly.

Chasing
away her lingering hurt.

Or at
least submerging it for now.

 
“Miranda, my God, —that first sight of you
again, in this prim day dress, the pale green color such a mirror to your
eyes—the lushness of your breasts—your modest collar could not conceal the
utter lushness of your form. I think your prim bodice, for all its plainness,
accentuates the voluptuousness of your breasts far more than all your
glittering bodices, those maddening, tempting little scraps of cloth.
 
I used to dream of yanking those bodices
down and having your breasts spring free into my hands.”

 
His impassioned tone thrilled her.

He
cupped her breasts, squeezing them, sending wave upon wave of sheer sensual
delights tingling through her. You know how the beauty of your breasts consumes
me, drives utterly mad.”

She
moaned with the increasing pleasure, the increasing desire that his somewhat
rough touch gave her. He adored her body and the way he loved her body, it did
give her astounding pleasure.

Yet, it
made her slightly uncomfortable, someplace beneath the physical pleasure, that
he would choose to focus on her outward traits at this moment.

His
lust, whilst igniting her passions, was also a source of hurt.

Her
inner feelings confused her. And he had asked her not to judge him for loving
her physical beauty. He was only flesh and blood. Only a man. Human.

She
tried to push the discomfort deep inside her.

He
caressed her breasts, a gentle stroking. “But your inner character outshines
all your physical beauty. Do you know how the sight of you struck me in my
heart? How can you possibly know? You were standing there with the firelight
playing on your bright, lovely hair, making it shine like crimson silk. I love
the true color of your hair.” He looked up at her and stroked her hair, his
beautiful sapphire eyes burning with his ardor. “You are so gorgeous, like a
goddess. And yet, it was the beauty of your soul that shone in your eyes. You
are so strong, so kind, so giving of yourself, so loving. And I knew I must
have you. Here and now.”

His
words were a balm soothing all her fears.

Warmth
curled into her belly that had nothing to do with her arousal and yet provided
the sweetest fuel for that desire.

She had
never before known such a heady feeling.

He bent
to kiss and suckle her breasts. “I must have you. I must claim you again so
that you will not run from me.”

She
thought again of Jane Sutherland. Jane had run to other men, seeking solace in
other beds.

“I will
never run from you.” She entwined her hands into his hair. “I am here for you
always.”

“I
feared that you would prove to be no more than a dream and would disappear into
a mist, as you did time and time again during my fever. I called for you and
you were never there. Not really. My imagination tormented me with visions of
you. It was a torment, it was hell itself.” Emotion made his voice hoarse.

Love for
him spurred her on.

“Oh
Adrian!” She grasped his shoulders and held him tight. “I am here now. Love me.
Take everything I have to give you. I am all yours.”

He
groaned harshly then moved to position himself to take her. “Miranda…” He
pushed into her.

Though
she was wet, beyond ready for him, his thick, hard length caused her slight
distress after all these months of celibacy. She suppressed a wince and hugged
him tighter glorying in the feel of him inside her once more.

“God,
Miranda, you are so tight, so wet, so hot. How I have longed for your sweet
cunny.” He grasped her hip and jerked his pelvis hard to hers. “God, how I need
you.”

Hungry
for more of him, despite the discomfort, she wrapped her legs about him,
driving him in deeper.

He gave
a series of hard thrusts and her discomfort gave way to pure bliss. Each stroke
of his cock within her only made her crave more and more and more of him. She
wrapped her legs as snugly about him as she could. “Please, please, please,”
she begged, striving to bring her pelvis as close to his as possible.

But it
wasn’t enough.

After
all these months of being without him, how could it ever possibly be enough?

He
grasped her hips and tilted her body to suit his desire. The head of his cock
touched her deeper inside, touching the mouth of her very womb.

He
thrust into her again and again and again, giving her the deepest possible
stimulation.

Her
flesh clenched his thickness, a frenzy of spasms, pleasure exploding within
her. The intensity made her dig her nails into his linen cover shoulders. He
put his mouth on hers, sucking away her cries. Her inner walls clenched and
squeezed him.

He
groaned—the sound was almost pained. His body shook and he poured his seed into
her, a series of ferocious jetting of hot liquid inside her.

He
collapsed against her, his panting breaths harsh in her ears.

Elation
lifted her, sent her spirits soaring. This was what she had been meant for. All
those years when she wondered why she, such a wretched and unwanted child, had
ever been born, now the question was answered.

This.

This was
more than just mere sensual pleasure.

She
hugged his broad shoulders and pressed her lips to his sweat-damp cheek.

This joy
was what she had been born for.

To be
one with Adrian.

To
accept his seed.

To
conceive his child?

Yes,
yes, please God, yes, let it be so.

He
panted, trying to catch his breath, for longer than she had ever known him to
do so and his body shook slightly against her. With fatigue? Yes, surely.

Her
heart contracted all over again at what had happened to him. At the strength
this normally virile man had lost. It was almost incomprehensible.

She
hugged him tighter and pressed several kisses to his cheek and jaw line, giving
vent to all the tender passion within her.

He
grasped her hair, held her still and kissed her mouth, a long and lingering
tasting and blending of their souls. “I love you, Miranda. God, how I love
you.”

Tears
sprang to her eyes. “I love you, too.”

“The
American doctors said that I should not have survived. But how could I do aught
else but return to you when I love you so deeply, so desperately?”

“Promise
me that you will never leave me again. Promise that we will never parted
again.” She choked back a soft sob. “I could not bear it.”

Miranda’s
gentle plea cut into Adrian like a thousand glass shards. How could he promise
her anything at this time? Damn, he allowed Winterton to draw him off his
course, to dictate the rules of engagement. Yes, Adrian was the victor yet, for
all that he was a nobleman. He was now also a wanted man. He pressed his lips
to her forehead. “I could not bear to be parted from you either.”

She
turned her face up towards him.

Her
beauty… oh God, her beauty.

He
caught his breath.

He loved
her, utterly.

“Let’s
go upstairs, to bed,” she said, those pale, pale green eyes warm with passion.

Yet,
haunted with sadness.

He knew
then that she understood. This was but a short reprieve before the storm. But
she would take what they could have. He wished that he could lift her and carry
her all the way to her bed. But he knew he was too weak. He would regain his
former strength, given time.

If he
lived long enough.

“Please
my lord?” She smiled broadly, welcoming, despite the shadows deep within.

She was
so strong. Was he really worthy of such a woman?

He
buried his face into her hair and exhaled. “Of course, my love.”

He
quickly donned his trousers then helped her to set her dress to rights. Then,
holding her hand, he allowed her to lead him up to her chamber. There, he
slowly removed her clothing, stopping again and again to place gentle kisses on
her flesh.

He
suckled her nipples, licked along her belly.

He
closed his eyes, inhaling her spicy, floral scent and groaned.

Christ,
she was sweet.

Sweeter
even than he’d remembered. No woman had ever delighted him so thoroughly, in so
many ways.

He
turned his head and pressed his cheek to her belly.

Thank
you God, thank you for allowing me to come home to her and to have these
moments.

She
caressed his hair. “Let me see your body, my love.”

Her
words sliced like a knife to his heart. He would do anything to spare her this.
But she was his wife and he had no intention of spending the remainder of his
years hiding his form from her. That was no way to manage a marriage. At least
not a marriage that he wanted any part of.

But how
would she accept it?

Would it
repulse her?

It
didn’t matter. He must share this with her.

He
slowly stood then he turned away from her and removed his clothing. With the
edges of his shirt in his hands, he paused and stared into the fire.

Once
again, the bullet burned into his side.

Once
again, the anger boiled in his blood. Damn Winterton!

“Adrian?”

He
pulled the shirt up and over his head then threw it over the chair. He turned
to her.

Chapter Ten

Adrian
could see how stiffly Miranda held herself. He sensed that she held her breath
and then her eyes widened. The color drained from her face.

She put
her hand to her mouth and ran to him. He caught her by the waist. She pressed
her head to his chest and the wetness of her tears burned into his flesh. He
pulled her closer and rocked her slightly.

“Oh
Adrian.” She gasped. “Oh Adrian, it must have hurt so badly.”

“Hush,
my love.” He placed a kiss to the top of her head.

She
gulped back a sob and her body trembled against him. Her sympathy sliced into
him. He couldn’t bear being the cause of her emotional pain. He realized how
she must have worried. He had left her here in England and remained away without
any explanation. He couldn’t bear knowing that he had caused her to suffer
that. “It had to be, my love.” He continued to rock her gently. “It had to be
that way.”

“It is
very hard to understand why, Adrian. I am your wife. I cannot understand how you
could keep such devastating secrets from me.”

“I
know.” He kissed the top of her head. “I know.”

“If I
had lost you, I would die. I would just die.”

“Don’t
say that,” he replied, his voice growing hoarse. “I did it all for you. My joy
even in my pain knew that you would be safe and that you would be here for
Davey.”

“Thank
you, my dearest lord, for having committed such a deed on my behalf. I know
that you were thinking only of my safety. But what of my happiness? My sanity?”
She gulped back a sudden sob. “What if I had lost you?”

“I had
no intention of dying, Miranda, believe me.”

“It was
just so hard. I thought you might be dead.” She gulped another sob. “It was
just so hard.”

He
hugged her tighter, feeling his love for her well up in him, so intense it was
like pain.

“Tell me
what happened in America. Tell me…
everything
.” The intensity in her
voice seemed to vibrate deep within him.

She
wanted to know.

She
deserved to know.

But he
couldn’t tell her.

Not yet.

Telling
her would require him to dredge up all those memories of hate and revenge. It
would make him harsh and inflexible. He did not wish to be harsh or inflexible
yet.

He
wanted to indulge in the joy of being with her again. He wanted to give her all
the love he had held inside, just for her. He stroked her back.

“Tell
me, please,” she repeated.

Sorrow
laced through him. He knew he was drawing out her apprehension but he couldn’t
help it. “Hush, Miranda, let me love you.” He traced the curve of her waist
with his fingertips. “Just let me love you.”

He
carried her to the bed, laid her down then stretched out beside her.

I had
no hope of ever loving a woman. Not a deep, consuming, passionate love. I
didn’t want such a love. I certainly didn’t believe that I needed it. Now she
is the only thing that my heart beats for…

He
kissed her closed eyelids and whispered his love.

He
kissed her mouth, her neck, her breasts, and her belly and whispered his love.

He
spread her legs and entered her and moved slowly within her and whispered his
to her again and again, as though it were the most precious secret that he
couldn’t risk another overhearing.

****

Morning
light crept in from a crack in the drapes. Miranda stretched her body lazily.
Elation filled her and she placed her lips to his cheek. Adrian’s eyes remained
closed. She moved to kiss his lips. He stayed still as a stone. She pressed her
lips more passionately to his and yet, he did not awaken. She slipped her hand
down his unscathed side.

He
grasped her hand.

She
cried out with surprise.

He
pulled her hand down.

The heat
of his rising erection seemed to sear her.

She
laughed.

He
wrapped her hand about himself.

She
tightened her hand and his thick length throbbed within the circle of her
fingers and palm. She laughed. “’Tis a fine prize I’ve found for myself this
morning.”

“Fine
indeed.” He put his hand over hers.

She
laughed—a wicked womanly laugh then she rolled part-way on top of him. “I know
how to best put it to use,” she said, attempting to roll all the way on top.

He went
rigid all over and he held her shoulders. “Miranda, no.”

She
froze. “Oh, yes, your injury.” She bent her head, her elation fading somewhat.
“I am sorry.”

She
released him and then rolled away on her side.

He ran a
caressing hand along the curve of her waist and down to her hip.

Awkward
silence settled between them.

He
lifted the hair off her neck then placed kisses in the hollow beneath her ear.
“You still have my interest, my lady.” He pressed his erection against her.

Still
mortified at her mistake, she turned her face into the pillow.

He arose
from the bed and soon she heard him setting out his shaving gear. Heard the
servants come with hot water and then the sloshing sounds of him shaving. The
pleasing scent of his shaving soap filled the air. It was an irresistible
reminder of her most intimate, erotic moments with him.

It was a
seduction.

It
lifted her spirits.

She
arose from the bed and approached him as he was toweling off his face. He
lowered the towel then grinned at her. “My love.” He touched her breast, lingering
over the erect nipple.

She ran
a hand down his chest and then lowered over his stomach. His erection reared to
life again.

She
knelt before him…

And
started breathing, rapid, short inhalations. She could not stop. Yet, she
wasn’t getting any air. She kept gulping and gulping, on her knees, all
thoughts of sensuality wiped from her mind. A thousand spiders seemed to crawl
over her scalp and down her spine. She was hot, too hot. If only she could draw
one good, strong breath.

“Miranda!
Miranda!” A touch on her shoulders.

She
cried out and backed away, one hand to her throat. She was choking! Choking for
breath.

“It’s
me, Miranda, Adrian.”

The
tenderness of his tone cut into her rising panic. She opened her eyes. He was
kneeling beside her, there on the floor. Caressing her neck, her back and
speaking words of love. Rocking her body gently.

Gradually
her breathing returned to normal. He gathered her into his arms and carried her
back to the bed. There he stretched out beside her. She rolled on her, needing
to face him. To know that she was with her beloved husband and not lost in some
horror from the past. He gently stroked her back.

His
tender caresses calmed her more than ever and she closed her eyes with a sigh.

“Why do
you do this?” he asked, after a time.

“I-I
want… t-to please you.”

“You
know how it always ends.”

“I
watched them… it seemed so effortless, so loving. I was so certain that—”

He
frowned at her, confusion marked on his face. “Watched them?”

She
nodded.

“Who?”

“Rebecca
and Drake.”

“Drake?
What? You watched them…”

She
nodded, rapidly. “I watched them do… I mean she took him into her m-mouth.”

He gaped
at her.

“It all
seemed so very beautiful and I wanted that with you.”

“My
God.” He continued to gape at her. “You watched them? In such an intimate act?”

“Just
the once.”

“My God,
woman.” He arose from the bed, jerked his shirt on then strode to the window
and stared at the rain sheeting down outside.

“Adrian—”

“How
could you do such a thing?”

Did she
hear sadness in his voice?

“I did
it for us.” A lump formed in her throat, making her words grow hoarse.

“For
us?”

“Yes.”

“How
could you do such a thing? Without even considering my feelings in that matter?
And Drake! Christ, woman.”

“Without
considering your feelings? What about you?”

He
whirled to face her. “Me? You dare accuse me?”

“You
left England, knowing what you planned to do and you never told me.” She hugged
the sheet to her nakedness.

“I did
everything that I did for you.”

“What
about if you had been killed? What would Davey have done without his Papa?” Her
voice broke on the last word as tears filled her eyes. Tears of rage and pain
at his having risked so much.

“You
would have been safe.”

“What
gave you the right to decide to risk yourself for my sake when you have two
sons who depend upon you?”

“Brentwood
has made the decision that he no longer needs me. He seems content enough to
live with his great uncle, whose side he has taken against me.” Adrian’s voice
rang with bitterness.

“That
was my fault.”

“It was
his decision.”

“He’s
just a boy.” Sadness consumed her. “What right did either of us have to decide
to plunge him into our scandal?”

“I had
the right to decide what was best for all concerned. He will survive rumors and
gossip but you would never have survived Winterton’s scheming.”

“I had
done so all along.”

“Had
you?”

“Yes.”

Adrian
shook his head. “No. You did not even know the half of it.”

Miranda
sat there, gaping at him, feeling the blood drain from her face as Adrian told
her about how Winterton had planned to kill him, to take her protector away. To
break her. How he had broken Dorothy, Adrian’s wife’s sister and his long-term
mistress and used her to carry out the nefarious plan.

Miranda
could barely breathe in the face of so many revelations coming at her so
quickly. Her mind spun, trying to make sense of things. But one thing struck
her immediately. “What right had you to keep all of that from me?”

“I
didn’t want to frighten you. I planned to seek your father out and to challenge
him to face me and kill him on the field of honor.”