The Mammoth Book of Regency Romance (79 page)

He ignored her insult. “And that you refused them all.”

“I had a ridiculous hope that I might actually discover a gentleman who could care for more than my dowry. Stupid, of course.”

He grimaced, as if her jab had struck a nerve, but his expression remained grimly determined. “It is my belief that your mother learned that my estates were heavily mortgaged and suspected that once you learned the truth of my need for …”

“My money?” she sweetly supplied, startled by a small pang of regret as his cheekbones darkened with a humiliated flush.

“For a loan,” he corrected in a raw tone. “Your mother no doubt feared that you would turn away my impending offer of marriage as well.”

“As I most certainly would have.”

“Consider, Amelia.” He peered deep into her eyes, as if willing her to believe his words. “Your mother was quite anxious for you to acquire a title and it was unlikely that there would be a nobleman greater than an earl to court you. Would she have meekly allowed such an opportunity to slip away without making an effort to push you into marriage?”

Amelia frowned, suddenly recalling that it had been her mother who had first entered the conservatory and promptly screamed to ensure that everyone at the ball was aware of Amelia’s humiliation. She also recalled that her mother had not been nearly so shocked as she should have been when Amelia revealed Justin was a common fortune-hunter. Indeed, her mother had pressed even harder for a swift wedding.

At the time, Amelia had assumed that her mother was motivated by her horror at having an unwed daughter who was tarnished goods. Now, she realized that it might very well have been an obsessive desire to have her daughter wed to an earl.

“This is all conjecture,” she muttered. “You have no proof.”

“No, I have no proof,” he readily agreed, “but I have spent many long nights recalling our brief courtship and the events leading up to our fateful tryst in the conservatory.”

“Even if what you claim is true, it changes nothing.”

“You are mistaken, Amelia, it changes everything.” With a smooth movement, he swept her in his arms and headed back to the bed. “You can no longer accuse me of deliberately causing our scandal. It was never my intent to force you into marriage.”

Amelia felt a dangerous crack in the ice she had built around her heart. What if he spoke the truth? What if he had never led her into the conservatory to compromise her? What if he had been as overwhelmed as she by the heady passion that even now swirled through her body? What if …

She shook her head. Damn him.

“Did you ever intend to tell me the truth?” she demanded as he lowered her on to the mattress and stretched out beside her, his fingers tangling in her hair.

“What truth?” he asked, a savage hunger tightening his features. “That you fascinated me from the moment we met? That I treasure our time spent together? That I desired you beyond all reason and that the thought of you carrying my child filled me with a need I could barely control?”

His child? Amelia quivered at the compelling thought of Justin’s baby growing inside her.

“The truth that you wed me for my dowry,” she forced herself to say, as much to remind herself of this man’s treachery as to continue the argument.

His head lowered, his eyes blazing with sensual intent. “I wed you for many reasons, some of which I am still attempting to comprehend.”

“Justin …”

Her protest was ignored as he crushed her lips in a kiss that demanded her response.

For a heartbeat Amelia stood poised on a precipice. She understood the significance of this moment. She could turn Justin away and continue with their cold, distant relationship. Or she could give in to her desires and risk opening herself to yet another betrayal.

Perhaps sensing her fear, Justin lifted his head to reveal an expression of undisguised vulnerability. “Amelia, please,” he pleaded, his hand trembling as he brushed his fingers over her cheek. “I have hungered for you for so long.”

His hunger could not be any greater than hers, Amelia acknowledged. But trust was a fragile thing.

“Have you …” She bit her lip in embarrassment.

“What? Ask me, my love,” he urged. “I swear I will tell you nothing but the truth.”

“Have there been other women?” she demanded bluntly.

“No, Amelia.” A dark, possessive expression settled on his beautiful face. “You are my wife. I want no other.”

The remaining ice that encased her heart shattered at the soft words and, with a small moan, she lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck. She did not know what tomorrow might bring, but for this night she could not deny the desire that had plagued her for so long.

“Yes,” she sighed.

As if the soft word was what he had been waiting for, Justin wrapped his arms about her and buried his head in the curve of her neck.

“Amelia, if you do not want me to make love to you then you must tell me now,” he muttered. “Very soon I will be unable to halt.”

Her arms tightened about his neck. “I want you, Justin.”

The words had barely tumbled from her lips before he was pressing restless kisses over her face, his fingers tugging at the buttons that lined the back of her dress.

“Thank God,” he rasped, then with a muttered curse he roughly tore the fabric.

“Justin?”

“You have no notion of how desperately I desire you,” he growled, pulling off the ripped gown and managing to tug down her corset and thin shift with exhilarating haste. Pulling back, he swept a smouldering gaze over her body that was now naked except for her silk stockings and slippers. “God, you are so beautiful.”

Amelia blushed, but oddly she felt beautiful beneath the burning intensity of his gaze. Justin had always been capable of making her far more assured in his company than she had ever been before. It was the reason she had been so drawn to him from the moment they had met.

Well … one of the reasons, she ruefully acknowledged, staring at the dark, beautiful face that had made her heart halt the moment she caught sight of him.

Shuddering with an excitement she could no longer deny, she moaned as his hands impatiently traced her curves, his mouth trailing a path of fiery kisses down the line of her throat. She forgot about the guests who no doubt were questioning her strange disappearance and her servants who must be shocked by the sudden appearance of Lord Spaulding.

In this moment nothing mattered but the feel of Justin as he gently cupped her breast and nuzzled her tightly furled nipple with shocking intimacy.

“Dear Lord,” she muttered, stirring restlessly beneath his caresses.

She needed something. Something only Justin could offer.

As if sensing her impatience, he abruptly pushed himself upright, jerking off his attire with unsteady hands. Amelia watched in awed silence as he revealed his hard, muscular body. She had never seen a naked man before and she was astonished to discover the pleasure she found in the width of his chest lightly sprinkled with raven hair, the slender line of his waist and the powerful thrust of his legs.

Then her breath tangled in her throat as she caught sight of the proud thrust of his arousal. She had assumed she would be frightened in this moment, but oddly she felt nothing but anticipation as he slowly moved to cover her with his warm body, her hands tentatively stroking down the curve of his back.

“I am not certain what to do,” she murmured.

“Just touch me, my love.” His breath brushed her cheek as he nuzzled a path of kisses to the hollow beneath her ear. “God almighty, the feel of your hands …”

Emboldened by his fierce reaction, Amelia skimmed her hands lower, groaning at the sensation of his rippling muscles that clenched beneath her fingers. He muttered a curse as she cupped his hips.

“It has been too long,” he rasped, abruptly grasping her hands and pinning them above her head.

Her lips parted to protest at having her tentative exploration brought to an end, but, before she could speak, Justin was covering her mouth in a kiss of searing need. Amelia squeezed her eyes shut, realizing the restraint she had always felt in his touch was gone.

There was no uncertainty as he caressed her body with experienced ease, or as his lips brushed down her collarbone and latched on to the aching tip of her breast. Or as his leg thrust between her thighs to rub at her sensitive cleft.

Amelia gasped as she struggled to breathe, assaulted by a flood of astonishing sensations.

“What are you doing to me?” she breathed.

A low chuckle was wrenched from his throat, his lips nuzzling the curve of her breast.

“What I have been longing to do from the moment we first met.”

“Surely not the
first
moment,” she said, only partially teasing.

He pulled back to regard her with a burning gaze. “Regardless of what you may believe, Amelia, I have never lied about my feelings for you. Never.”

Her heart faltered at the harsh sincerity in his voice. “Make love to me, Justin,” she whispered, her fingers softly stroking the bronzed beauty of his countenance. “Make me your wife.”

He remained silent a long moment, his gaze searching her face for any hint of uncertainty before a slow smile curved his lips. “As you wish, Lady Spaulding.” He outlined her lips with the tip of his tongue. “My only desire is to please you.”

Without giving her time for second thoughts, Justin kissed her with an aching sweetness. She arched beneath him, pulling her hands free of his grip to shove her fingers in the satin strands of his raven hair. He moaned, moving his lips over her cheek, nipping gently at the line of her jaw and then down the curve of her neck. He lingered at the base of her throat to kiss the frantic pulse that beat there, his tongue teasing the spot before he was trailing ever lower.

Amelia forgot how to breathe. During the past year she had convinced herself that her memories of Justin’s kisses must be a part of her fevered imagination. After all, she had encountered any number of handsome gentlemen over the past year and none of them had stirred so much as a flutter.

Now she realized that his touch was even more exciting, even more achingly sensuous than she remembered. Dear heavens, she wanted to drown in the pleasure of his touch.

Scattering kisses over the curve of her breasts he gave each aching nipple a lick of his tongue before nibbling a path down to her stomach. Amelia arched her back, shocked by the urgent need that pulsed deep inside her.

“You taste of honey,” Justin murmured as he licked her belly button and then down the tense muscles of her thigh. “So sweet.”

“Good God.” Her hands clutched at his hair. “Justin …”

“Yes, my love?” he demanded, tugging her legs wider so he could slip between them.

“What are you doing?”

His chuckle brushed her skin as he lazily explored the length of her leg and the arch of her foot. “I have waited a year to claim my bride. I intend to savour you from head to toe.”

She choked back a moan as he tormented her toes before slowly making his way back up her leg. How could she survive such a delectable assault?

She was suddenly aware of a damp heat between her legs that seemed directly connected to Justin’s exquisite caresses and she squirmed in pleasure as he trailed his lips up the inside of her thigh.

Not even her dreams had prepared her for such astonishing sensations.

“Justin, please,” she pleaded, raising herself on to her elbows as he tugged her legs even further apart.

“Oh, I intend to please you,” he said, holding her gaze as he slid one slender finger through her damp heat. “I intend to hear you scream in pleasure.”

“What are you …” she began, only to have her words stolen as he shifted upwards and she felt his tongue part her tender flesh. “Oh Lord.”

Her elbows collapsed and she tumbled back on to the bed, her eyes squeezing shut at the intense pleasure.

His tongue was relentless as it teased and stroked her need to the very edge of bliss. There was something …

Something that beckoned just out of reach.

“Please … please …”

“Yes, my love.” With a lingering kiss upon her thigh, he slowly moved over her, his eyes smouldering with a hunger that echoed within her. “Forgive me.”

She frowned. “For what?”

In response, he settled more firmly between her spread legs and tilted his hips forwards. Amelia gasped as she felt him sliding into her body, stretching her with his steady thrust.

“Oh,” she breathed, her hands grasping the cover beneath her.

“You must relax, Amelia.” Justin kissed the tip of her nose. “Trust me.”

For a tense moment, their gazes clashed, Amelia’s heart missing a painful beat. Trust. Such a simple word. And yet such a very complicated emotion.

Then, lifting her hands, she framed his face and pulled him down to meet her soft kiss.

She was not yet prepared to make promises, but her heart was no longer filled with bitterness.

“Make me your wife,” she whispered against his lips.

“My wife,” he repeated, the words filled with a husky reverence that brought tears to her eyes. “My beautiful wife.”

He kissed her with a stark passion, his hands moving to cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her sensitive nipples.

Slowly, Amelia began to relax, a soft moan tumbling from her lips. Justin’s thrusts fanned the flames of her desire from the embers.

Barely aware of it, she discovered her hips lifting in harmony with his rhythm as the pleasure coiled in the pit of her stomach.

Murmuring encouragement, she ran her hands restlessly up and down the curve of his back. Yes. Oh, yes. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his hips as he plunged deeper and deeper. This was what her body had ached for since that night in the conservatory.

“Christ … Amelia … I cannot …”