The Earl's Stolen Bride (Marriage by Deceit Book 4) (5 page)

He leaned into her, and they fell back on the bed together, their arms wrapped around each other.  Once again, there was only the dreamlike state of bliss between them.  But this time, he did tamper his ardor enough so he could focus on doing whatever he could to please her.

His hands ran up and down her back in slow, methodical motions as he sought to memorize every curve of her glorious body.  And she seemed to enjoy this, for she let out a soft moan and pulled him closer in silent encouragement.

In fact, she brought her legs around him again, and, just as before, he was on top of her.  He hesitated to touch the area between her legs with his erection. But the pull was hard to resist.

Ending the kiss, he caressed her cheek.  She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“Are you still hurting?” he asked.

“No.  I feel fine.”

She lifted her hips and rubbed against him, and he sharply inhaled.  She felt much better than she had last time, something he didn’t think possible.

“Make me your wife, Orlando,” she whispered.  “I want our marriage to be complete.”

He kissed her again, though not as long as before.  It was difficult to concentrate when she insisted on pulling him more intimately over her entrance.  Careful, he entered her, studying her expression to make sure he wasn’t causing her any discomfort.

She didn’t wince or grow stiff, nor did she let out a moan as if she were in pain.  Those were all good signs.  Perhaps the worst was over.  He knew so little about virgins.  Some gentlemen said they could be tight.  And she had been.  Not so much this time when he entered her, but she’d definitely been tight the first time.  He hadn’t expected her to bleed.  He could only hope this wouldn’t happen again, that now that she was no longer one, the process would go much more smoothly.

After he’d entered her all the way, he forced himself to remain still for her sake.  “Chloe?”

“Don’t stop,” she murmured and lifted her hips once more to bring him deeper into her.

With a moan, he kissed her neck and shifted so he could pull out, still making sure his actions were slow.  There seemed to be no discomfort on her end, so he went back in all the way.  The whole process was exquisite, really, and it took a lot of self-control to ease in and out of her in his effort to not cause her any more pain.

“You don’t have to hold back,” she told him.  “I feel good.”

He thrust in deeper, taking pleasure in the way her warm flesh clenched around him.  Letting out a moan, he pulled almost all the way out and then slid back in.  It was easy to move in and out of her now that he’d worked his way past her discomfort. He repeated the movement and had to stop so he wouldn’t climax yet.  He wanted to take his time and savor each moment.

“Is something wrong?” she whispered.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” he replied, his voice straining with effort to hold off on the inevitable.  Goodness but this was the best thing he’d ever experienced.  If there was anything that felt better than this, he couldn’t imagine what it was.  “It feels good,” he told her.  “I just don’t want to release my seed too soon.”

“But we can do this again,” she replied, bringing her hands to his behind and pressing him deeper into her.  “You don’t have to go to your bed.  You can stay here tonight.”

Something in the promise of doing this again was his undoing, and he found himself giving into the urge to renew his thrusting.  This time he didn’t stop when he neared the peak.  He let it happen, crying out her name as he filled her with his seed.  She kept him close to her, holding him while he rode each wave of pleasure that crashed into him.  When he descended from the heights of heaven, all he could think of was how much he loved her and would continue doing so in the years to come.

Chapter Six

“What do you think?” Orlando asked as they pulled up to his estate a couple days later.

Chloe took in the immaculate lawn, large stables, and the well-kept manor with ivy growing up one of the walls. She rather enjoyed the idea of spending winter out here.  This was a part of him, and now it would be a part of her, too.

“I love it,” she told him.  “I’m going to enjoy being here with you.”

He kissed her.  “It’ll be a lot better now that you’re here.”

“Are you going to show me the lake you swim in?”

He wiggled his eyebrows.  “Care to take a swim with me?”

She bit her lower lip.  Did she dare?

“I promise, it’s far enough from the house where no one will see you,” he encouraged.

“All right,” she said, deciding it might be good for her to do some adventurous things, even if they were scandalous.  But even so…  “You promise no one will find us?” she whispered.  “Without our clothes on and all?”

“I promise.  Toby’s cousin was the only one who went out there.  No one else does.  But if it does happen, I’ll shield your body with mine.”

She giggled as she imagined him doing such a thing.

The footman opened the carriage door, and Orlando helped her down.  He turned to the butler who rushed over to greet them.  “Take those to the bedchamber,” Orlando said, motioning to the trunks on the carriage.

She still couldn’t believe he’d taken the time to buy her so many clothes.  They were all sorts of colors, too, but mostly bright and cheerful.  He’d let her pick them all out.  After years of her mother selecting her dresses, it was an adventure to finally get a chance to do it herself.

And there had been so many, he’d needed to buy two large trunks.  But he’d assured her she would need them for the long winter months.  “By the time we get back to London, you’ll be bored of them and want more,” he’d commented when she protested he’d bought her too much.

Now, Orlando slipped her hand around his arm and patted it.  “Let me show you your estate, Lady Reddington.”

Her face warmed at the way he called her by her new title.  She liked it much better than Lady Hawkins, but then, she’d never been loved by Lord Hawkins.  He had been pleasant enough.  Kind and thoughtful, mindful to write to her every month.  But Orlando wouldn’t have settled for writing to her.  He was the type of husband who actually wanted to be with her.

It was a thrilling experience.  She had no idea a lady might be so well loved by her husband.  It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she had never been happier in her life, but he introduced her to the servants before she could do so.  She greeted each one, hoping she could keep their names straight.  She’d never been very good at names.  But it was no matter.  She’d recall their names soon enough.  At the moment, she only had to remember Lois, who was going to be her lady’s maid until they returned to London.

The first room he showed her was the drawing room.  “I don’t keep my paints or canvases in here, but this is where I like to paint.  The lighting is better than in any other room.  The sunlight never comes directly in here, but it is well lit through the entire day.” He led her to the chair by the window overlooking the rolling pastures.  “I’d like to paint you here.  The scenery behind you will enhance your portrait.”

“I thought you didn’t like to paint nature.”

“I do.  I just can’t do it from memory.  I need to see it while I’m painting.”

“That’s right.  In all the excitement, I forgot.”

He kissed her.  “There’s a lot happening at once.  Hopefully, things won’t be so hectic now that we’re here.”

“I don’t mind it, Orlando.  It’s been the best week of my life.”

“Mine, too.  But I guarantee you things will only get better.”

He drew her into his arms and gave her a lingering kiss that nearly took her breath away.

“I love you,” he whispered.  “I know how ridiculous that sounds seeing that we really haven’t known each other that long, but it’s true.  You are the most important person in my life.”

“You are the most important person in mine, too, and I don’t mind adding that I love you as well.”

“I’m glad.” He pulled away from her and kissed her hands.  “I will do whatever you ask, whenever you ask.  In the meantime, why don’t I show you the rest of the place?”

She nodded and let him lead her out of the room.

***

“Are you sure you want to paint me?” Chloe asked a week later.

Orlando put down the easel and his paint set in the drawing room.  “Of course, I do.  You’ll be the most beautiful of all the ladies in my family.”

She’d seen the many portraits in the room upstairs.  She still couldn’t believe they went all the way back to 1560.  He had a rich family history, something her father would envy if he knew.

She ran her hand along the edge of the desk.  Parchment and a quill rested neatly on top of it.  She should write a missive, to let her family know she was all right.  And yet, she hesitated.  She ran off in such a hurry…and so soon after her first husband’s death.  They wouldn’t be pleased.

She closed her eyes and released her breath.  At times, it was easy to forget them.  She and Orlando were tucked away from the rest of the world.  She wished it could always be this way.

She felt a light caress on her cheek.  Opening her eyes, she looked up into the eyes of the only gentleman she could ever love.  What a whirlwind romance they shared.

“I don’t want to ever wake up,” she whispered.

With a chuckle, he asked, “Pardon?”

“You and me.” She gestured to the room.  “All of this.  It’s like a dream, only better.  Never in my deepest fantasies did I ever think love could be like this.”

He smiled and took her in his arms.  He lowered his head and kissed her, and she melted in his embrace.  What could be better than true love’s kiss?

“It’s better than I imagined, too,” he whispered.  “It’s yet another reason why I want to paint you.  Every time I look at it, I’ll have the pleasure of thinking back on this day.” He brushed the bottom of her chin with his finger.  “I could look at you all day and still want to look at you some more.”

Feeling a bit shy, she lowered her gaze and chuckled.  “In that case, I better let you paint me.”

He gave her waist a playful squeeze then gestured to the chair.  “The roses outside the window will bring out the natural pink in your cheeks.”

She nodded and went over to the chair.  Sitting down, she asked, “Is there a certain way you want me to pose?”

“Just relax and look toward me.  This will take a while, so I want you to be comfortable.”

“How long do you expect it to take?”

“A couple days.”

“That long?”

“I want to make sure I get everything perfect.  But don’t worry.  I won’t have you sitting all day.  I figure we’ll do it a little at a time, taking breaks here and there.”

Well, that was a relief.  While sitting was easy, she didn’t relish the idea of doing it all day.  She smiled at him.  “Is this good?”

“Yes, but you don’t need to pose just yet.  I still have to get all the paints ready.”

Oh, right.  While he set out the paints, she smoothed out the peach skirt of her dress.  She bit her lower lip and glanced out the window.  “Will my dress match the roses all right?  I can change clothes.”

“You’ll be lovely.  Besides, not all the roses are pink.  Some are white.  The contrast is especially appealing, if you ask me.  But more than that, the roses won’t be the main focus of the portrait.  You will.  I’ll be lucky to get two roses in.”

She nodded and, after a moment, giggled.

“Am I doing something funny?” he asked, glancing up from the table where he’d been laying out his paints.

“No.  It’s not you.  I was just thinking if I were to paint you, I’d probably end up creating one great big splotch.” When she saw his eyebrow rise in surprise, she laughed again.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t mean you’re a splotch.  You’re a very handsome gentleman.  I just couldn’t do you justice, that’s all.”

He chuckled.  “Maybe I should teach you how to paint.”

“Oh, I don’t know.  I had a couple lessons, but they weren’t all that interesting.”

“What were you trying to paint?”

She had to think for a moment.  It’d been so long ago she almost didn’t remember.  But finally she did.  “I had to paint an apple.  My instructor wanted me to start on something simple.”

“Well, there you have it.  Your problem is that you weren’t asked to paint something interesting.  If you found something that excites you, I’m sure you’d be more inclined to learn.”

She considered his words and decided he was right.  “While you make a good point, I don’t know if I’ll be any good.”

He shrugged.  “Who says it has to be about painting well?  Why can’t you just paint for the simple joy of it?”

“I suppose I could.”

“Of course, you can.  It can be a lot of fun.  What we should do is find something you want to paint and paint it.  Tell me, Chloe, what would you like to paint?”

She scanned the room and then turned her attention to outside the window.  While he said she could pick anything she wanted, she still thought her best bet—at least since she was starting out—was to choose something that would be easy.  “Um, I think I’ll try,” her gaze went back to the room, “the inkwell.”

He set the brushes by the paints then looked over at the inkwell on his desk.  “You like that?”

“I do.” The inkwell had a bronze horseshoe with a crystal horseshoe cap and a square mahogany base.  “It makes me think of you since it’s so masculine.”

“Would you believe my mother made it for me?”

“She did?”

“After my favorite horse died, she took his shoe and made the inkwell so I could always have something to remember him by.  But I don’t only think of the horse.  I think of her, too.”

“That’s a lovely story.” And it made her want to paint it all the more.  “Were you close to your mother?”

He nodded.  “And my father.  I had a good childhood.  Some gentlemen complain about their upbringing, but I have none to make.”

She lowered her gaze.  She wished she could say the same about hers.  And up until the time her parents arranged her marriage to Lord Hawkins, she would have agreed with Orlando.  But in the time she’d been Lord Hawkins’ wife, she saw things the way they really were instead of how she’d wanted them to be.  What an eye opening experience her first marriage had been.

Swallowing, she lifted her gaze and watched as Orlando sat in front of his easel.   “It’s nice you had such good parents.”

He made eye contact with her and smiled.  “They would have liked you.  They used to tell me to wait for the best, and that’s exactly what you are.”

“I wish they were alive so I could meet them.” Judging by how wonderful Orlando was, she had no doubt they were outstanding people.

He went over to her and gave her a kiss then brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb.  “I’ll delight in having the honor of painting you.”

Her face warmed at his words as much as it did from his touch.  He returned to the easel and sat behind it.

“How do you want me to sit?” she asked him.

“How about this?  Put your shoulders back, sit up a little straighter, look at me, and give a hint of a smile.”

“A hint of a smile?  You sure you don’t want a wide one?”

“For some reason, none of my relatives seemed to ever fully smile.  They only hinted at it.  I suppose if they did offer a big smile, their mouth would be sore.” Then with a wink, he added, “Or maybe they were all afraid their faces would stay like that forever if they kept smiling like that.”

She chuckled.  “Oh, Orlando, that’s silly.”

“It might be silly, but maybe it’s what they were thinking.  You want to smile widely and see if it’s true?”

Laughing harder, she shook her head.  “I think I’ll offer a hint of a smile, as you suggested.  I agree that it would make my mouth sore otherwise.”

“I wouldn’t want your mouth getting sore.  You might not feel like kissing me, and that’s the last thing I want to happen.”

Amused at the playful way he wiggled his eyebrows, she settled into a comfortable pose so he could start painting.