The Book Of Scandal (28 page)

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Is that a challenge?”

“It most certainly is,” he said, and picked up his wineglass. “To the winner go the spoils of their choosing.”

“Ooh,” she said, clinking her glass to his. “That should make it quite interesting, mmm?”

He fervently hoped so.

As they continued their meal, Evelyn continued her litany of things she remembered. Sledding down the hill near the lake one very snowy day. Watching the fireworks he’d brought to Eastchurch to commemorate Guy Fawkes Day. The New Year’s gathering at the home of Lord Montclair.

In the midst of it, Benton returned and cleared their plates, and placed ice sorbets before them with a dessert wine. As Evelyn was recounting the day they’d been chased by an angry goose along the river’s banks—at great length, Nathan noticed, which, coupled with the rosy glow of her cheeks, he suspected was a bit of the wine’s doing—Benton went out, closing the door quietly behind him.

Nathan remembered the day as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. He had been teaching her how to fish, and she’d managed to toss her line too close to the goslings. The mother goose began to chase after her; Evelyn panicked and threw down her pole. Screaming, she ran to him, her arms outstretched. But Nathan was laughing so hard he could not help her. Evelyn had flung herself into his arms, and down they’d gone, rolling into a patch of reeds, Nathan’s arm the only thing between them and the angry goose.

Just thinking of it made Nathan laugh again.

“Must you laugh at my misfortune still?” Evelyn demanded playfully.

“I beg your pardon, madam,” he said with a broad grin. “But I’ve never seen a sight quite like it.”

Evelyn smiled. “Now I’ve spent the entire evening talking of my memories of Eastchurch. What of yours?”

He gave her a wolfish smile. “My memories are much simpler…the moments we shared when there was nothing or no one but you and me, and of course later, the days we had with Robert…those are the memories I hold most dear.”

“Oh yes, Robbie.” She glanced off. She was seeing their son now, Nathan guessed, as was he. But she suddenly looked at him with a mischievous look in her eye. “Is that all?”

“All?” He smiled. “I remember everything you remember—save the outcome of the archery match.” He shifted forward, pinning her with a look. “But what I remember most vividly is you lying naked in my bed, your skin moist and your lips,” he said softly, his gaze dropping to her mouth, “slightly swollen. Do you recall?”

A slow, sultry smile curved Evelyn’s lips. “I do,” she said sweetly as she fingered the small cluster of emeralds at her throat. “I remember it perhaps as keenly as you.”

Hope rose up like a phoenix in him. “Do you, by chance, recall what my hands feel like on your body? Because I cannot seem to think of anything else.”

One corner of her mouth tipped up in a smile. “Another attempt to seduce me.”

“Evie…I won’t seduce you unless you want to be seduced.”

Her smile broadened and she leaned forward, too, so far that he could see into her bodice. “And how will you know if I want to be seduced?”

He could scarcely bear to look at her across the table without wanting to sweep the candles and flowers and sorbet to the floor and take her here. He let his gaze wander over her face, her bosom, her hair. The desire in him was building, pulsing, breathing inside of him. “I think—I hope—that you will let me know,” he said, hoping desperately that she would do so—now.

Evelyn smiled and put her hands against the table. With her eyes on his, she pushed herself up. The linen fell from her lap, but she didn’t heed it as she walked around the table. Nathan leaned back in his chair, and Evelyn did something he never thought his proper young wife would do. She picked up her skirts, revealing her shapely legs, and very gracefully straddled his lap.

Nathan was almost too shocked to speak. He gripped the arms of his chair, watching her as she slid her arms around his neck and whispered, “I want you to seduce me.”

She could not have possibly aroused him any more than that. He put his hands on her ribs, holding her there on his lap. The heat of her body on his made him hard instantly. “Don’t toy with me, Evie,” he said roughly, his humor gone.

She pushed her hand through his hair.

“No regrets,” he said far too anxiously, but his body was raging with the promise of holding the only woman who had ever mattered to him. “If you come to regret it, then you best lie to me.”

She cupped his face in her hands and tenderly touched her lips to his. She slid off his lap, straightened out her skirts, and walked to the door. Nathan was powerless to move, he could do nothing but watch her.

When she reached the door, she glanced over her shoulder. “Are you coming?”

N athan surged to his feet so suddenly that Evelyn unthinkingly stepped back. He strode forward, catching her around the waist. He kissed her, bending her over backward so far that Evelyn was compelled to grab his arms and hold on.

He lifted her up; his blue eyes searched her face as if he were seeing her anew. “Come,” he said, grabbing her hand. He kicked the door open, almost hitting Benton on the other side. The butler quickly moved out of the way as Nathan strode past, pulling Evelyn with him. “That will be all, Benton!” he called out as he and Evelyn hurried past.

At the end of the corridor, he started up the servant stairs, but Evelyn pulled back.

“What, what, what is it,” he asked a bit frantically, his eyes roaming over her face, her neck and bosom.

“Not this way,” she said. “The main staircase.”

Nathan scarcely looked at the servants’ stairs, then at her. “It’s a shortcut, darling. Past the nursery and directly to your rooms—”

“No!” she cried, stepping back, pulling his arm with both hands. “The main staircase.”

Thankfully, he did not argue, but put his arm around her waist and drew her into his side, and hurried her along as if every moment counted against them.

When they reached the door to her suite, Nathan ushered her in first, then closed the door behind him, locking it.

When he turned, Evelyn was standing in the middle of the room, breathless from their eagerness to get here. A million things ran through her mind—such as why she’d suddenly changed her mind. Why now? Why today? Had it been the good memories? The kindness and hope in his eyes? Or simply that he was a handsome, virile man, and she could not seem to look away from the breadth of his shoulders or the size of his hands, or his mouth, his mouth…

That handsome, virile man was moving toward her now, his head down, the look in his eyes so full of desire for her that it stirred her deeply. He caught her hand in his, tangling his fingers with hers as he slowly drew her to him. Evelyn walked into the circle of his arms. He touched his lips to her hair, then trailed his mouth down, glancing over her temple, her cheek, and pushing her hair aside to kiss her neck.

The touch of his lips glinted through her, seeping into her blood, spreading into every vein, soaking into every muscle. He tasted her lips, and his kiss felt different than before, raw and deep, the sort of kiss that went beyond mere pleasure.

She drew a shallow breath and gripped his shoulder, holding herself up to the deliberate caress of her body.

Nathan splayed one hand across her cheek, his fingers soft and warm, and Evelyn began to gulp for breath. Something had shifted in her heart; she suddenly wanted him as she’d never wanted another man. She’d never yearned to feel him thick and deep inside her as she did now.

“Evelyn,” he said, his voice rough and dark. “This is where you belong, with me. Always.” He abruptly cupped her face and turned it up toward him. “I love you. God knows I do. Words seem too small to describe it, but know this—you belong with me. Nowhere else.”

How odd that a few simple words could turn her thoughts and her life upside down. She felt as if she’d been waiting for him to say those precise words for ten years. The restlessness that had plagued her for so long seemed to leave her body. She felt beautiful. She felt at peace.

Her eyes locked on his, she stepped back and reached across her body, to the buttons that ran up the side of her gown, and began to undo them.

His gaze followed her hands, and he drew a long, slow breath into his lungs as she unbuttoned her gown. She slipped her arms out of the cap sleeves, held the gown to her bosom a moment, then let it slide down her body.

Nathan drew another breath through clenched teeth and shook his head. “I don’t understand how you have changed, Evie,” he muttered. “But you have enchanted me in a way I did not believe was possible.”

Her heart leapt. She pushed her chemise off one shoulder.

Nathan’s gaze heated; he licked his bottom lip as she pushed the garment from the other shoulder and let it slide from her body. She stood before her husband brazenly and completely bare, fired by his admission of love and his obvious, glaring desire for her.

He lifted his hand, filling his palm with one breast. His breath hissed. “You are more beautiful than I dared recall,” he said, his eyes darkening. He ran his hand down the side of her body, and without warning, he swept her up into his arms. His eyes on hers, he carried her to the bed and lay her there. He quickly shed his coat and waistcoat, his neckcloth and shirt as his gaze devoured her.

She had forgotten his beauty, too. His shoulders were thick, his arms muscular. His chest broad and strong, his abdomen flat and hard.

Nathan came over her and caught her head between his hands. He looked at her for a long moment before his lips touched her mouth. The moment he did, she felt the heat of his blood surge through her veins.

He rolled her over, putting her on her stomach, and began to kiss a line down her back, to her hips, nibbling at her flesh there before rising up again to her shoulders.

His kiss was enough to push Evelyn toward the edge of fulfillment—she’d been stranded in a woman’s waste-land for years now, longing deeply for a man’s touch. And after last night, her husband’s ardor—powerful and potent—was swelling around them, opening up deep, sensual wells inside her that filled with every touch of his lips.

With a groan of desire, Nathan rolled her over again, his hands spanning the breadth of her body. Evelyn stroked his face. “You give me hope.”

He stilled and looked down at her. “Hope? You can’t know the meaning of hope, Evie.” He kissed her madly, his lips leaving an indelible sensation that sank into her marrow. He feverishly caressed her body: her neck and the curve of her shoulder, and the swell of her breasts and the flat of her belly, the dip of her waist, the span of her hip.

He moved down her body, caressing, licking and biting, tasting her, taking her scent and her taste inside him.

She closed her eyes and caressed his body, feeling the corded muscles in his arms and his back, the firmness of his hips and thighs. She fumbled with his trousers and pushed them as far down his hips as she could manage. She was aware of nothing but him and the intense passion building in her, and the strong sensation of knowing that this was where she belonged, this was where she was anchored. This was right.

She was not the only one experiencing such remarkable feelings. Nathan was driven to an unthinkable passion. Yet his desire was more than the monstrous sexual urge he was feeling, much more primal than that. It was possession, a comprehension that she belonged to him, that she was his alone to protect and cherish and devote himself to.

He would push the earth from the sky for her. In this moment, with the feel and scent of her skin driving him mad, the dampness between her legs beckoning him, he could not imagine ever being without her. Their problems seemed to melt away from them—with every stroke of his hands and his tongue against her warm skin, he was sent a little closer to the edge of his control. Every place she touched him inflamed him. Every press of her lips engorged him. He was ravenous—the need to be inside her and bring her back to where she belonged had created a force of love in him he’d felt only a handful of times before.

That force gripped him by the throat. As his hands and mouth covered her body, she caught his head and claimed his mouth with hers, filling his body with her breath.

“I’ve needed you, Nathan,” she said. “I hadn’t realized how much I’ve needed you.”

He hungrily returned her kiss; she pressed against his aching erection as he dragged his mouth to the flesh of her breasts and their swollen tips. As he took them into his mouth, teasing them with his teeth and his tongue, she pushed her hands through his hair and arched into him, gasping with delight.

When he slipped a hand between her legs, he found her hot and slick and moved down her body, between her legs to dip his tongue between the folds of her sex. Above him, Evelyn cried out. She clutched desperately at his head and his hands, but Nathan gripped her thighs, keeping her open to him. She began to pant and move against him, pressing herself against his mouth, then falling away, as if the pleasure was too great.

Nathan lifted his head and climbed over her. She opened her hazel eyes, full of desire and satisfaction, and he was lost. He shoved out of his shoes and trousers, then carefully pressed his flesh against hers. Holding her gaze, he laced his fingers with hers. “You are beautiful,” he said, his voice hoarse with raw emotion. “Too beautiful. I am hopelessly enchanted.”

Her hand closed around his hard cock.

He sucked in a sharp breath and summoned what little control he possessed. He kissed her again, greedily and hard as he slid into her, into that wet, hot place that was his. Evelyn gasped and began to move against him, angling her legs and drawing him in deeper still, moaning with pleasure as her body opened to him.

Nathan moved fluidly, withdrawing to the tip, then sliding in deep again, watching her eyelids flutter with each stroke. Evelyn’s hands were on his body, flitting everywhere: over his ears, his shoulders, down his chest, tweaking his nipples. But as he began to stroke her faster and harder, she arched her neck and swallowed hard, panting for air. Her body moved in perfect time with his, rising up to meet each thrust, sinking again as he withdrew.