Virtue and Vice (23 page)

***

Her shuddering body jolted Ram from lazy contentment, and he lifted his head, stunned to see tears on Izzy’s cheeks.

What the hell?

He watched her cry, mystified as to what could be wrong. He’d known some women who would cry after an especially powerful orgasmic release, but instinct told him that wasn’t the issue here. Not that their union had been anything less than cataclysmic. She had fulfilled every sensuous promise her body had ever made, and never had he experienced such complete fulfillment during the love act. So why then was she crying?

He touched a finger to her cheek, wiping away a tear. “Izzy? Sweetheart, what’s wrong.”

She shook her head, turning away from his gaze.

“Did I hurt you?” Bemused, he wracked his brain to think of anything that might have caused her distress.

Again, she shook her head, but this time she wrenched her body to the side, a sure sign she wanted his weight off her. He complied, and she curled over to face the wall. He pressed close against her back, draping his arm over her, stroking her arm, trying to soothe.

“What is it?”

“Paul.” Her voice came out choked.

He froze. Had she truly uttered the name of her former paramour in their bed, after their lovemaking?

He jerked his arm away as if burned, thrusting himself out of the bed, stung to the core. He had just experienced the most powerful lovemaking experience of his life, and she had the gall to cry over that peacock, Huntley?

He yanked on his breeches. “Nay, Isabelle. I’m afraid I’m Ramsay,
not
Paul. I’m the one who actually showed up to marry you and am now your husband, remember? It shouldn’t be that difficult to tell us apart.”

Her shoulders shook harder, and he paused in his movements, at a complete loss. His pride stung that she could think of another man after the intimacy just shared. Yet concern over what could be hurting her so overpowered his rage.

Sighing, he settled back on the bed, near her hip. “Do you wish to speak of it?”

He watched the back of her head shake in the negative.

“It might help to talk about what is wrong. Perhaps it isn’t as bad as you think?”

Unexpectedly, she sat up, clutching the sheet over her breasts, staring at him dolefully, her eyes red, her face splotchy.

“I’m an awful person!” Her voice cracked and more tears leaked from her eyes.

Bemused, he stared, at an utter loss. “I’m afraid I am confused. What would possibly make you think that about yourself? We are married. There’s nothing wrong with what we just did.”
It was bloody right, that’s what it was!

“I’m not upset over
that.
” Even through her tears he could see her roll her eyes. How could she look so unbelievably adorable while behaving in such a maddening manner?

“Then whatever is wrong?”

She released her breath in a quivering huff. “I love Paul! B-but, I love what you and I did too! I’m a sh-shameless, fickle wanton.”

Her proclamation of love for Huntley smarted, but his attention seized on the latter part of her statement. She
had
been as affected by their lovemaking as he’d been, and she felt
guilty
for it. Surely that meant there was a chance for them? He might not have her love yet, but he could enslave her with desire, and perhaps she would come to realize her feelings for Huntley were nothing more than lingering affections from girlhood. Ram would be the one to teach her what it was to be a woman.

He only had to make sure she stayed long enough to come to the realization that she wanted and needed him, and not Huntley.

A good general knew when to advance and when to retreat to do battle another day. Now was the time for the latter.

“Try and get some sleep, love.” He stretched out beside her in the bed, resisting the urge to take her into his arms. “I’m sure all will seem brighter in the morning.”

Chapter 20

Things did indeed seem brighter in the morning, at least for Ram as he opened his eyes and took in the sight of the beautiful woman slumbering in peace beside him. She was now his wife in every way.
My wife.

The idea was so strange, yet now he couldn’t imagine his life without Izzy in it. Sure, she was a maddening creature, but she had fast become
his
maddening creature.

Rising up on his elbow in order to better study her, his eyes traced the perfect profile presented to him as she reposed on her side, her back towards him. Her lips, usually ready with a sarcastic retort, were relaxed in sleep. Her delicate lashes rested upon her cheek like the finest silk. She looked peaceful
.

The lure of her heat and beauty was too much to resist. Inching closer, he curved his body around hers, moving slowly so as not to awaken her. She was all warmth and softness in his arms. Rubbing his nose gently against a strand of hair that lay over her shoulder, he reveled in the unique smell that was
her
.

Her body seemed to relax back against his. What would happen if he stroked her, touched her, and caressed all the spots she found so irresistible?

With light strokes, he slid his fingertips up her arm. Rewarded with a sleepy little murmur that traveled a direct path to his loins, he snuggled closer, his rapidly thickening cock settling between the cleft of her buttocks.

His hand crept over her arm to cup the perfect globe of one breast. Her nipples, relaxed in sleep, came to attention under the manipulation of his fingers. Her body bucked against his and she stiffened, most assuredly awake in that instant.

Even as she remained tense, she didn’t protest his caresses as he continued to stroke her, and then finally, she relaxed, giving tacit approval to his actions. His lips sought the sensitive skin of her neck as his fingers moved to lavish equal attention on her other breast. She moaned and in that throaty sound he knew his battle was won.

Pure heat jolted through his body at the sound. Sliding his hands slowly down her flat belly, his fingers sought the jewel nestled in the springy curls between her thighs. She was wet to the touch and his cock bucked against her as his fingers rubbed in light circles, alternating pressure on the sensitive bud hidden between her folds.

She made incoherent little sounds as she writhed against him, bucking her hips in need, more than ready and already driving him half-wild. He slid one hand under her neck to pillow her head. His other hand ran over her thigh and down her calf, then lifted her leg and levered it back, so it hung over his hip. His nostrils flared as he inhaled her unique, musky scent.

Shifting, he guided his shaft into her welcoming heat from behind. The pleasure as her tight sheath stretched around him as he slowly entered her almost cost him his composure, but holding tight to his control, he recovered.

She gasped, a sound filled with both surprise and delight, and it was all the urging he needed. He began to move, thrusting slow and hard, then drawing out of her body, only to plunge back in to the hilt. His fingers toyed with her from the front, where he had complete access to every enticing inch of her.

In a matter of moments, she was writhing and moaning in abandon, her fingers grasping handfuls of the coverlet as he continued his slow thrusts without mercy. She ground her backside against him each time he sheathed himself.

Her breathing increased; small whimpers escaped her lips with every movement, which fired his passion to previously unknown heights. He pounded against her, pleased beyond belief when she pressed back against him, circling her hips, meeting him thrust for thrust.

Heat coiled in his balls; he was close to spilling. He sped his motion, manipulating her with his fingers at the same time. He sucked the sensitive lobe of her ear into his mouth and bit gently.

He pressed his mouth against her ear. “Come for me, Izzy.” he urged in a hoarse voice.

Her entire body went rigid with tension and she cried out as her climax took her.

“Ah, God, Izzy!” he gasped. “You feel so damned good.” He rocked his hips, thrusting deep into her sheath, made wetter from her release. His control frayed and he followed her into bliss, exploding inside her, hearing his own ragged cry as he reached exquisite release.

Replete and contented, he lowered her leg to the bed, then drew her close, wrapping her in his embrace. He relished the feeling of Izzy warm and languid in his arms. He nuzzled her neck, rewarded when she twisted her head to press a soft kiss to his lips.

Not until she turned away did he allow a satisfied grin to pull at his lips.

Oh yes. The first assault on her senses had begun, and he intended it to be the start of a long, drawn out, campaign.

Pressed against her beguiling warmth, her head tucked beneath his chin, he fell into a slumber more peaceful than he’d ever known.

***

Izzy lay awake, suffering the same doubts of the night before. There was no denying the pull Ram had on her body, but she didn’t blame him for her plight. She cursed her own treacherous body, which even now yearned for him all over again.

She stifled her tears, knowing they were only evidence of self-pity. Who was she to cry over her fate? God had seen fit to send her a man who worshipped her body with his, and, if she were to be completely honest with herself, treated her well. What right did she have to cry because the one man she loved was lost to her, when her lot in life was not so bleak? Many women in her position did not fare as well.

But some of her tears were for Paul, who must feel betrayed and devastated over losing her. He’d gone off to fight a noble cause, expecting to find her waiting when he returned, and here she was, wantonly making love to another man mere hours after seeing him again for the first time in years. How that would hurt him if he knew. Though she no longer feared that life with Ram would be terrible, she still loved another man. If there was any chance her marriage could be undone, she must take it, for the sake of everyone involved. Ram might not think so now, but eventually he’d come to resent her feelings for Paul, and she’d come to resent him for keeping her from the man she loved. If there was no way to untangle what had been done, so be it, but she at least had to try, to know for sure, or she’d never be able to live with herself.

She lay awake, staring at the ceiling until Ram stirred again beside her. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of her neck, sending shivers ricocheting through her body. She sat quickly, pulling the sheet to her neck, lest he have making love again in mind.

He smiled. “Shall we return to the townhouse today?”

“Nay, Ram. I wish to remain here, at Court. I still haven’t had my audience with the King.”

In the span of a single instant, his eyes turned frosty. “Why do you still seek an audience?”

She sighed, trying not to take her frustration out on him. “My feelings haven’t changed. I’d still like to explore the possibility of an annulment.”

Ram sat straight up against the headboard. “After last night, and this morn, you
still
intend to pursue this nonsensical idea?”

“It’s not nonsensical, Ram. I’m in love with Paul.”

“God Dammit!” He tore from the bed, and faced her, arms crossed over his chest, oblivious to his nudity. “That’s the last time you’ll bring that man’s name into our bedchamber, do you understand? I will not have that peacock tainting the sanctity of our marriage bed.”

“Would you prefer I lie? Do you want me to pretend I’ve no feelings for him? I gave him my word that I would wait for him, and here I am, married, as if I were some fickle woman who gave no thought to a vow I made and couldn’t wait until he’d gone to find myself another man to take his place.”

He raked his hand through his hair. “What do you think he did while he was gone? Do you truly believe him faithful to you these last three years?”

She opened her mouth to respond, then paused. She’d never thought about it. If Paul loved her as he’d claimed, surely he wouldn’t have taken other women to his bed. Would he? Despite her relative innocence, she’d spent enough time with courtiers of both sexes from many countries, and knew that the quest to seduce and bed one another was a favorite past time amongst the court players. A man would have to either be church minded or truly devoted to another to live celibate for years. She clutched the blanket tighter against her chest. She’d be damned if she’d let Ram see the accusation rattled her.

“He loved me. He asked me to wait for him.”

Ram snorted. “The man loves no one more than himself. He may have truly expected you to wait, but I can guarantee he didn’t abstain on your behalf.”

Grabbing the sheet, she flung herself from the bed, staring across the length of it at her husband. “Do not talk about him like that.”

“Isabelle. You are my
wife
. You belong to
me!
How do you think it makes me feel to hear you wake up with that man’s name on your lips and go to sleep thinking of him?”

“You knew! I warned you, I warned my father. I love Paul. Do you honestly think a few pleasurable nights in your bed would change that? Is that the kind of woman you think me to be?”

“I thought you to be a woman of honor, who would respect the sanctimony of marriage. It seems I was very mistaken.”

With angry, jerky movements, he pulled on the clothes he’d worn the night before and then turned to face her, the muscle in his jaw clenched tight.

“This is the last evening, Isabelle. Tonight, we return to our own home, and you’ll put Paul Huntley behind you.”

“That’s not fair! You said I could remain here if I shared your bed as a wife in truth!”

“Never did I say for how many days that would be. I suggest you make the most of your time with the court this evening, for you’ll not be returning here for some time.” He strode toward the door.

“I hate you!” She screamed at his back. He flinched, but didn’t stop until he’d exited the chamber and slammed the door behind him.

Izzy spent the morning lying in bed, trying to figure out what her next action would be, all the while hoping Ram would return so she could apologize for her harsh words. He didn’t deserve them. She tried to put herself in his shoes and imagine how it would feel to have one’s spouse constantly declaring one’s love for another.

But that still didn’t change her feelings for Paul. She was trapped. She could never use the knowledge of what Ram had done during the interregnum against him by threatening to tell his father. First, she respected the risks he’d taken immensely. Second, knowing what it was like to be at odds with her own father, she couldn’t cause him the same pain.

Paul
. Surely, he would know what to do! She would speak to
him
and perhaps he’d devise a better solution for the problem. He was far worldlier than she, he must know of some way she could achieve her ends without betraying Ram.

She always felt bolder with a firm plan in place, and now was no exception. With a firm goal in mind, she set to getting dressed. With no choice but to put on the gown she’d worn the evening before, she donned it as quickly as possible. Braiding her hair into two sections, she piled them on her head, using the discarded pins from last evening to hold them in place. Then, taking a deep breath, she left the chamber in search of Paul. Hopefully she wouldn’t cross paths with Ram on the way.

Making her way to the large hall where hundreds of courtiers took their meals, she breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t spot her husband.

She did immediately spy her quarry, seated between two beautiful women, both of whom leaned in close, far closer than necessary, hanging on every word he said. She smiled sadly. Once, she’d have been at his side just like those women. But she’d always known someday Paul would be hers, while those women did not.

Ram’s words reverberated in her head, and her smile turned to a frown. Had Paul remained faithful all these years, or did he have women hanging on him every place he went? And did he seduce those women or let himself be seduced by them?

She shook the thought from her mind. It didn’t matter now, for she could hardly claim to have been faithful to him. She approached on quiet feet and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Izzy!” Paul’s face lit when he recognized her and his blue eyes danced merrily. “Come and sit down. Join us.”

Both women shot her looks brimming with venom. Best not stay and antagonize them. She needed no enemies at court, not when dealing with Ram was difficult enough.

“I must speak with you, Paul. Will you spare a moment?”

He placed his hand across his heart. “For you, Izzy, I can spare anything.”

He bowed to his dining companions and excused himself, rising from his seat at the trestle table. She walked at his side in silence, until they found themselves outside in the privy gardens. When she was certain they were alone, she turned to him.

“Why the sad face, Izzy?”

“Oh, Paul, you’ve always known me so well.”

He chucked her under the chin. “Whatever it is can’t be so terrible as all that.”

She paused. He certainly didn’t
look
like a man wracked by devastation. In fact, he appeared as he always had; charming and flirtatious, without a care in the world. Shouldn’t he be more upset about her marriage? What if Ram was right and there was no reason for him to be devastated because he didn’t love her anymore? Damn Ram for putting these doubts in her mind!