Tempting Her Reluctant Viscount (26 page)

“Am I dreaming?” Hope whispered. Perhaps she had fallen and died after all. Lord knew that was the only thought that had been running through her mind the whole time she was edging along the narrow ledge of her own personal hell. Don’t fall and die; don’t fall and die; don’t fall and die.

“No, sweetheart, you are not dreaming,” Michael replied with a smile.

“How…how did you find me?”

Chuckling, Michael said, “That is a long story I think best saved for another time. We really should be going.”

Remembering the precariousness of their situation, Hope readily agreed and, with Michael’s help, they quickly made their way to the tree and down to the ground. It was remarkable how much easier the second half of the ledge-walking was with Michael by her side.

Then, just as Michael took Hope’s hand, ready to run to where he had tethered his horse, they heard Cochrane-Johnstone yelling, “What do you mean she’s afraid of heights? That is your reasoning for not securing the window? You imbecilic, moronic…!”

Hope and Michael didn’t stay to hear the rest of the tirade, but instead hurried through the brush and trees to his mount. Michael swung up into the saddle first then, reaching down, he swept Hope up to settle in front of him.

Grabbing the reins in one hand and holding Hope firmly with the other, Michael wasted no time in galloping as far away from the dilapidated old house as fast as he could.

It was then they heard the gunshot.

Chapter Twenty-six

It’s amazing how much strength one can gain from being loved.

~The Duke of Lancaster

After racing at full speed for ten minutes or so, Michael began to see the streetlights of Mayfair glowing in the distance. They were leaving the country behind and returning to the safer, more populated area of town. Slowing, as to not draw undue attention, Michael kept to the quieter streets as he made his way to Lady Lancaster’s.

Hope hadn’t said a word, and now that they were moving at a more sedate pace, Michael could feel her shaking uncontrollably. He wasn’t surprised. Having been abducted, her life undoubtedly threatened, and facing her fear of heights…he was amazed she was even able to remain upright. Frankly, if anyone deserved a bout of hysterics, it was Hope.

“Are you all right?” Michael whispered in Hope’s ear, embracing her even more tightly.

Hope began to nod, but then shook her head and, covering her face with her hands, she started to cry—big, wracking sobs—as the reality of what had happened, what could have happened, finally sunk in.

They were still many blocks away from the Lancaster Manse when they passed the street on which Lichfield Lodge was situated. Concerned about Hope and unable to comfort her as he would like, Michael didn’t even take the time to consider the ramifications of his actions as he turned his horse toward home.

Minutes later, Michael was handing his reins off to the stableboy as he held the still weeping Hope in his arms. Ignoring the looks of his staff, Michael carried Hope into his ancestral home and up to his private chambers. Dismissing his startled valet, Michael laid Hope on his bed and, lying beside her, he gathered her up into his arms and simply held her, willing his calmness, warmth, and love to envelop her.

…

Hope burrowed into Michael’s embrace, trying to feel safe, trying to forget her ordeal. During their flight from her captors, she couldn’t help but think how narrowly she had escaped death. Both from Cochrane-Johnstone and her daring second-story getaway. And she broke down. The fear, and exhaustion, and her father’s betrayal all built up inside her until she couldn’t help but burst with it.

Now, however, wrapped tight in Michael’s arms, Hope was numb. She felt nothing. It was as if her spirit, her very soul, had fled her body for a safer, less corporeal existence. And she was left empty.

She thought about how much she would have missed if she had been killed…getting married, having a family, growing old with Michael. The need to cling to that dream now was overwhelming and she was overcome with the need to feel something, anything, with this man she loved so much.

Needing a physical reminder that she was alive, Hope reached blindly for Michael and pressed her lips to his and began kissing him with unrestrained passion.

But then everything changed. Hope broke off her frenetic kisses and buried her face into the warm crook of his neck. She wrapped her arms about his waist and clung for dear life. She breathed in deep and felt her body relax with her long exhale. The shaking subsided and her tears stopped.

Pulling back slightly, Michael brushed a few damp strands of hair away from her forehead and said, “Feeling better now?”

Hope looked up at Michael with her eyes still wet from her recent tears, and she blushed.

“Yes, thank you. I apologize for my forwardness. But I needed…needed…” Hope laughed self-consciously. “Well, I don’t know what I needed, exactly, but the, ah, kissing helped.”

Michael smiled. “You are more than welcome to kiss me anytime, my love. No apology is ever necessary for
that
.”

Turning her head away shyly, Hope noticed for the first time where they were—or where they weren’t, as the case may be.

“Michael,” Hope asked hesitantly, “where are we?”

“We are in my chamber…at Lichfield Lodge. It was close and you were so upset. It seemed the logical place to bring you.”

“But Michael,” Hope whispered. “The scandal…what if someone saw us?”

“No one saw us…well, aside from my servants, but that hardly signifies.”

“Hardly signifies…?”

Hope looked at him, horrified.

With a deep sigh, Michael cupped Hope’s chin and said, “Hope, we are practically an engaged couple. And after everything we have been through lately, we are as good as married as far as I am concerned. We will make it official as soon as I can arrange it. Any whispers that may get out about this rendezvous will fade the moment you become my wife. There truly is nothing to be upset about.”

Hope considered Michael’s words and wanted to believe him. Her old fear of bringing shame upon Michael’s good name bloomed briefly, but then it dawned on her…bringing her here was
his
idea, not hers.
He
was responsible for this particular scandal, and if he was not worried about its effects, then why should she be?

And they were as good as married in her mind, too. She had made a commitment to him the minute she saw him on that ledge, all that was missing was a silly piece of paper. And in the grand scheme of things, a little slip of paper seemed such a small thing. It was time to show the man she loved that she was all his…in every way.

As Hope considered that thought, all her maidenly outrage and overwhelming need to be proper faded away. She felt liberated and unencumbered. How exhilarating was it to be spoken for, loved, and covered by the infallible protection of a husband…a viscount husband, no less. The freedom she felt made her feel positively wanton…and daring.

Hope glanced up at Michael from beneath her lashes and smiled slowly, wickedly. With her arms still wrapped around his waist, she traced the muscles of his back with her fingertips. She explored every dip and valley and reveled in the feel of him. She loved the way his muscles jumped and contracted with her every touch. She could hear the rapid beat of his heart and noticed the way his breath became shallow, more ragged.

And she felt powerful.

…

“Hope?” Michael gasped as his body reacted to her unpracticed, but extremely effective caresses. If he didn’t know any better, he would think she was trying to seduce him.

“Yes, Michael,” Hope purred, leaning up to press soft kisses against his cheek, throat, and jaw.

“W-w-what are you doing?”

Hope batted her lashes as she smiled again. “I would have thought that obvious, Michael…I am
loving
you.”

“But, but…ahhhh.”

Michael couldn’t even finish his thought as he felt Hope’s tongue dart sweetly into his ear. Did she even know how
good
that felt? Probably not, he thought wolfishly, but perhaps she should find out. Because while Hope was just acting on instinct, Michael knew exactly what he was doing. And if making love was her intent, he was more than happy to oblige.

In one swift movement, Michael turned them both over on the bed until he was laying half on top of her. Capturing her hands in his and pinning them firmly on either side of her head, Michael looked at Hope heatedly and said, “Are you sure this is what you want, Hope? Because once we start, I will not be able to stop.”

Looking back at him with equal intensity, she replied, “I have never wanted anything more than I want you, Michael Ashmore.”

Fiercely aroused by her words, her look, and her actions, Michael took control of their lovemaking. Releasing her hands, Michael began untying, unhooking, and unfastening anything he could get his hands on—both on her and on him—all the while, kissing Hope with passion-filled, passion-inducing kisses.

Michael was on the verge of losing his patience and was ready to rip the gown off of Hope’s lithe and writhing form when finally, the last of the stays came loose and he was able to lower the garment to expose two of the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen. They were large and round and tipped with the most rosy nipples…and they just begged to be tasted.

Leaning down, Michael pulled the first nipple into his mouth and groaned with the pleasure of it.

Hope screamed at the sensation.

“Mich—” she gasped before losing all ability to be coherent.

Hope’s mewling and moans were enough to drive Michael mad, and if he didn’t enter her soon, he felt sure he would expire then and there.

Working by feel alone, Michael changed his focus to Hope’s other breast while he lifted her hips up to slide her dress and undergarments the rest of the way off of her. When she was gloriously nude, he turned his attention to his own clothing. Much more familiar with his own gear, he was able to disrobe with very little interruption to his continued ministrations to Hope’s magnificent form.

His lips returned to hers as he spread her thighs and his fingers went in exploration of her most private area. When his hand brushed over the small patch of protective curls, Hope jolted in surprise, but Michael pressed on. Moving his fingers lower, he slipped one inside her and nearly lost all control when he felt her clench around him, so wet, so ready.

“Oh my G—” Hope cried, stopping just short of blasphemy.

“Shhh, love,” Michael crooned soothingly, “I’m just checking if you are ready for me.”

Hope closed her eyes tightly before wailing softly, “I am ready for…
something
, Michael…I just don’t know what.”

Michael chuckled. “You are ready to be made love to, my dear, and that is what I plan to do.”

Nodding frantically, Hope just begged, “Please, Michael, please.”

Not exactly the paragon of patience himself, Michael didn’t wait a second before removing his hand and replacing it. When the tip of his manhood felt the warmth of Hope’s core begin to envelop it, Michael almost wept with pleasure.

Michael wanted, more than anything, to make this first coupling with Hope good for her as well as for him. He didn’t want her to look back on this night with anything but wonder and excitement. If he went too fast, too hard, too soon, he could scar her opinion of lovemaking forever. And if tonight was any indication, Michael was going to want to make love to his wife constantly once they were married, and that would go much more smoothly if she knew right up front how wonderful it could be.

With that thought in mind, Michael found the strength to enter her slowly; allowing her body to adjust to his as he pushed ever further inside her. Watching her face for any sign of discomfort, Michael stopped entirely when he reached the proof of her innocence—her maidenhead.

“Hope, love?” Michael said hoarsely. “Are you all right?”

Hope still had her eyes closed and had been holding her breath since the moment Michael had entered her.

Opening her eyes, Hope looked at Michael and breathed, “Oh yes, Michael…that feels…wonderful.”

Unable to hide his relief, Michael smiled. “I would like you to feel even more wonderful, but there may be a little pain first.”

A look of confusion creased Hope’s brow. “Pain?”

“Yes, love,” Michael replied, the strain of holding himself back etched all over his features. “I have to break through your…the proof of your innocence…and it may hurt. But I am told only for a moment.”

“Oh…but then I will truly belong to you?”

“No, my love…then
we
will truly belong to each other.”

Hope sighed, “Then do it, Michael. Make us one.”

Needing no other incentive, Michael finally allowed himself to enter her completely.

Hope jerked slightly at the sudden pinch of pain, but then she wrapped her arms and legs around Michael tightly; clearly any pain she had felt was no longer a hindrance.

Michael lay still, trying hard not to move lest he cause Hope any more pain, but her activity was driving him insane. If he did not move soon…

However, Hope’s movement caused Michael to settle even deeper within her, and he worried if he moved further, it would be too much, too soon.

“Oh, my,” Hope purred. And that was all Michael needed to hear.

“Thank God,” Michael exhaled and he began to move. And nothing had ever, in his entire life, felt as good a Hope did beneath him.

It took only a minute for Hope to catch his rhythm, and together they carried each other to new and exciting heights until Hope reached the pinnacle and cried out in release. Feeling Hope’s powerful orgasm clenching around him, Michael let out a cry of his own as he finally burst, spilling his seed deep within the woman he planned to love and indulge for the rest of his life.

Collapsing at Hope’s side, Michael drew her into his embrace, unwilling to let her lay even an inch away him after such a spiritual moment. When he thought of all the years they could have been doing this if he had just married the girl when he first saw her…but no, it probably wouldn’t have been the same, wouldn’t have meant as much, if they hadn’t had this time to get to know each other…if they hadn’t gone through everything they had in the last few weeks.