The Christmas Heiress (22 page)

"And now?" he asked in a coaxing tone.

Charlotte drew in a deep breath. "I confess to feeling a certain fondness for you that I cannot explain."

"A certain fondness," he repeated dryly. "Words
to warm a man's heart."

Charlotte sobered. He exhibited a vulnerability
she would never have associated with such a selfassured man.

"What are your feelings toward me?" she asked, fearing the answer, yet unable to resist the opportunity.

He shrugged. "They are all tangled up in the past
and the present. But they do exist and though I
have tried, I find it difficult to ignore them."

She managed an uneven smile. "Do you wish to
ignore them?"

"It would be the most sensible, logical course. I am well aware of my behavior six years ago. I am
certain it sounds odd, but I did not reject you, I rejected marriage. I refused to take an heiress as a
bride to solve my financial problems, but more importantly I needed to be unencumbered so I could
focus all my attention on my business. I know now
that I caused you pain and I regret that more than
I can say. Above all else, I do not wish to hurt you
again." His voice was low, intense. "I am looking to
you for guidance."

She sighed. "I have no answers, Edward."

"What do you want, Charlotte?"

"Peace," she admitted.

He stepped forward, reached out and took her
hand. "We are not at war."

His words brought a tightness to her chest. For so
long she had believed she hated him, and now she
knew it was far more complicated. Knowing he had
regrets, remorse about how his actions had affected
her, soothed her pride, eased any lingering hurt.

His gaze shifted down to her feet, then back up
in a slow, deliberate manner, a sensual visual caress,
ending with him staring into her eyes.

She could not blink, for it was impossible to tear
her eyes away, caught in his stare as though he held
her in a spell. Just his nearness made her senses
more acute. Charlotte could hear the wind howling
outside the window, could feel the warmth from
the fire in the grate, could smell the pleasant tang
of his cologne.

He looked as uncertain as she felt, as if he too
were warring with his conscience and desire. But
his eyes were dark with need and filled with something more than uncontained passion.

She raised her hand and rested her splayed fingers on the hard plane of his chest. "What do you
want, Edward?" she asked in a husky tone.

"You." His voice sounded strong and confident, yet
his eyes betrayed the uncertainty of his emotions.

He leaned forward as he spoke, his face very
near, his lips nearly touching her. She remembered
the feel of them, the searing heat of his kiss in the
woods. Charlotte shivered with indecision. If he
kissed her now, she doubted she would resist.

In the hushed silence of the room she could
practically hear the beat of her own heart as she
struggled for the resolve to do the right thing. Suddenly a noise, sounding like a ball tumbling across
the floor, echoed outside in the corridor.

"What was that?" Charlotte asked in alarm, pulling
her gaze away.

It was as if a spell had been broken. The earl
moved forward and blew out the candle, plunging
the room into near darkness. It took a few moments for Charlotte's eyes to adjust.

"Why in the world did you do that?" she hissed. "I
can barely see my hand in front of my face. If I take
but a few steps I will no doubt trip over something
and injure myself."

"Then don't move."

"We can hardly stand here all night."

"Why not? The noise in the hall must have been the
servants. We can avoid being discovered if we keep the
room in darkness." He smirked with satisfaction.

At least she thought he smirked. It was so dark, it
was difficult to fully see the expression on his face.
Trapped alone in the dark together and his main thought was that they were avoiding a scandal.
How lowering!

"I believe you are possibly the most unromantic
man I have ever met," she declared in a huff of
annoyance.

"True, I am pragmatic, but that does not mean I
do not have other sides to my nature." His hands
reached out and grasped her shoulders. "Shall I
prove how truly romantic and passionate I can be,
Charlotte?" he whispered in her ear.

His hands began moving over her, stroking, teasing, enticing, and her mind was not entirely on the
conversation. Fleetingly, she tried to think, tried to
decide if she should stop him. The air around them
shimmered with sexual awareness. Charlotte watched
him, unable to move, wondering if he would let her
leave if she turned away from him.

But, oh, how he tempted her to stay! His lips
moved lightly across her throat, then he slipped his
hand behind her neck and drew her close. Their lips
met, melding together in a sensuous, ravenous kiss,
echoing the hunger so long denied between them.

Charlotte's knees literally buckled, yet she was
in no danger of falling, for Edward held her tightly
to him. The scalding pressure of his kiss softened
and her body jolted with the erotic touch of his
tongue against hers.

She felt bound to him, body to body, heart to heart.
A turmoil of emotions and feelings ran through her
mind, but she now admitted that her connection to
him was more than the irresistible taste of passion he
had given her, more than the raging fever he aroused
in her so easily.

The vulnerability she felt around him was no longer frightening; it was liberating. She was facing
a crucial decision, an irrevocable step, and for the
first time in her life, the answer was clear and simple.

"Lock the door, Edward," Charlotte whispered.

He froze, then closed his eyes and bent his head
to her forehead. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, very sure." She turned her head and
brushed her lips along the line of his jaw. "And do
please, hurry."

There was a part of Edward that knew he should
walk away. The staid, somber, considering part of
his nature told him to act as an honorable, gallant
peer of the realm, to exercise his famous self-restraint and leave. He knew full well if he locked the
door he was treading on dangerous ground, he was
making an unspoken commitment to be what
Charlotte desired in a husband.

She wanted friendship, companionship, but most
of all she wanted love-of that she had been very
clear.

Was he the man to give it to her?

The lock clicked into place effortlessly. The
sound was oddly comforting, strangely reassuring.
Edward turned to Charlotte. He, who had always
weighed each decision in his life most carefully, and
concluded this was the right moment to let his
emotions and passion control his destiny.

The gloom of the room disheartened him. The
fire, burning very low, offered little light, the candle Charlotte had brought with her was long extinguished. This would not do.

He wanted to see every inch of her, wanted her to
see every inch of him. Reaching for a brace of candlesticks, he lit both, then quickly lit a second and
third brace. He placed them in different areas of
the library and the room soon glowed with a soft,
romantic light.

Pleased with the effect, Edward turned again to
Charlotte. Her eyes were wide with curiosity and an
edge of excitement. He could see no fear or doubt,
but that did not mean she was not feeling those
emotions.

Edward gentled his expression and approached
her, setting a hand on her arm. "It's not too late to
change your mind."

"Oh, yes it is, Edward." She stood very still, staring
up at him as if he had lost his powers of reasoning.

Her sweet scent rose to encircle his senses, her
tempting lips beckoned, her womanly curves teased.
She let out a breathy gasp when he traced his thumb
slowly over her lower lip. He could feel his blood
heating, could feel his control starting to slip.

Stepping closer, Edward gathered Charlotte
close, buried his face in her glorious hair, breathed
in the scent of her sweetness and was lost. He cradled her face between his hands and kissed her
slow and deep, kissed her with all the emotion he
had so carefully kept in control.

The next kiss had her leaning against him, softly
whispering his name before her tongue began
dancing with his. He ran his hands down along her
spine, feeling the warmth of her skin through the
silk of her dressing gown, passing his hands slowly over the flare of her hips, lingering on the enticing
curve of her posterior.

Edward caressed, then cupped her bottom, drawing her fully against his erection, shifting so that
she could feel the full, hard length of his desire for
her. An urgent shudder racked her spine and sent
a wave of heat racing through his body that stiffened his already turgid penis.

His hands found her breasts. He hastily pushed
aside her dressing gown, popped open the two top
buttons of her nightgown and slid his fingers inside.
With his hand still clutching its glorious prize,
Edward lowered his head, nuzzling the column of
her throat, tasting and nipping at the exposed sections of bare flesh, sliding lower, lower until he was
able to drag his tongue across her nipple.

Charlotte's head fell back, giving him wordless
encouragement. With a groan of excitement
Edward eagerly wrapped his lips around her nipple
and suckled her, taking the delicious flesh far
inside his mouth. Her breasts were more magnificent than he had imagined, enticingly round and
soft, the rose-tipped nipples large and pebble-hard.
They strained against his tongue and he felt the
ripple of need shudder through her body.

Little mewing sounds came from Charlotte's
throat as his tongue flicked to first one and then the
other breast. Her honest response spurred Edward's
desire, emboldened him to reach down between
her legs and caress her womanhood.

Deftly, his fingers parted the swollen lips, gently
rubbing until he felt the sweet moisture of her
desire. He fondled her with delicate strokes, his long
fingers gliding through the silky curls, his fingertip brushing repeatedly over the erect little bud where
all her pleasure centered.

"Edward?" she said shakily, her entire body tightening. "Oh, Edward."

His hand stroked her one more time, then
stilled.

"Charlotte, are you frightened?"

"No, I am confused. I feel hot, yet I shiver. I feel
restless, edgy, yet languid with pleasure when you
stroke my body."

"If you want me to stop, you must tell me now,"
he said hoarsely, knowing he was barely beyond the
point where common sense would prevail. "Do you
understand?"

She stared at him for a long moment. Then she
slowly lifted her hand and stroked his cheek. "I cannot
possibly stop," she whispered in a voice so soft he
could barely hear the words. "I want this very much."
Her breath caught. "I want it to be you, Edward."

A surge of profound emotion shot through him.
"I am deeply honored," he whispered.

Edward barely recalled removing his clothing, yet
somehow he was naked. His fingers felt too large,
too clumsy as he tried to open the remaining tiny
buttons on the front of her silk-and-lace nightgown.

"Rip it," she begged, and with a growl Edward
hooked his fingers into the neckline and tore the
fabric down to her waist. The savage sound sent his
blood pounding even harder through his veins.

Heat and possessive ownership surged through
Edward as he pressed a nude Charlotte down into
the softness of the carpet. Her breasts were gloriously full and ivory soft in the glow of the candlelight. He placed his hand on the delicate curve of her shoulder and dipped his head, capturing a rosy
nipple in his mouth.

Charlotte cried out, her body rising to meet his.
Her head thrashed against the floor. He used his
teeth and tongue with tormenting gentleness, increasing her excitement. Edward lifted his head,
keeping his eyes on her face as he cupped her
breasts and feathered kisses over the tips. She cried
out again and the primitive expression of desire
drove Edward's passion higher.

She was beautiful. So undeniably beautiful.

Her skin was the color of rich cream; it glowed irresistibly in the light of the fire. She was perfectly
formed, with delicate shoulders, a small waist and
curvaceous hips.

Pangs of excited apprehension went through
him as he tried to recall all that he knew about bedding a virgin. Almost nothing, actually, since he had
never bedded one before. Yet somehow it seemed
most fitting that they would both be embarking on
a new experience.

He debated how to proceed. He reasoned her
knowledge of the act would be limited, since her
mother had died when she was so young. Yet discussing the particulars of what they were about to do
would certainly destroy the mood. It would be best
to simply allow passion to take its natural course, to
ensure that her body was teased and pleasured and
ready for his possession.

That would be a most enjoyable task.

He kissed her belly, her navel, then slid his hands
beneath her buttocks and lifted her to him. The
smell of her skin was intoxicating.

"Edward?" Her voice trembled.

"I want to taste you, Charlotte, to worship you
with my mouth."

"Do men and women really do such things?"

"Yes, when they trust each other. It brings them
both great pleasure." He sensed she might be afraid
of what he could make her feel, but he also sensed
curiosity mingled with her desire. "Do you trust me,
Charlotte?"

"I do, but. . ." She scrutinized him and he could
almost see the indecision raging inside her.

"Every part of you is beautiful, Charlotte."

She cried out when he put his mouth on her,
shuddered as he stroked the delicate flesh within.
He gripped her hips in his hands, not allowing her
to hide anything from him as his tongue glided
over the swollen bud of her sex in curling strokes.