| |
The very essence of romance is uncertainty.
~ Oscar Wilde from The Importance of Being Earnest
––––––––
James ordered the cab to wait and dashed up the front steps of Prim’s townhouse. He’d had more than a dozen blocks in a slowly plodding carriage up 5th Avenue to imagine what awaited him.
Her butler would answer the door. He would either tell him flat out that Mrs. Eames was unavailable for the evening or hand him a note with her apologies.
She only asked him to ostensibly court her, to provide a reprieve from the pressure to remarry. Prim hadn’t asked him to change her life. Still, he’d pushed and pushed. Perhaps he’d pushed her too hard by asking her to visit an establishment so far out of her normal sphere.
If she did refuse to accompany him, it was just what he deserved. But he hoped not. It’d be bloody difficult to woo a woman into marriage who wouldn’t see him.
He rang the doorbell and stepped back.
Heavy footfalls sounded from within and neared. When the door opened, Banks appeared to be neither resolute nor even expectant as he’d imagined. Instead, there was a blank look on his face, quickly covered, that spoke of surprise, even bafflement.
His hopes fell. Prim hadn’t prepared an excuse or rejection. Had she simply hoped he wouldn’t show up at all?
James yanked off his top hat and smoothed his hair down. “I’m here to see Mrs. Eames.”
“Is she expecting you, sir?”
Probably not but he nodded confidently anyway. “Aye.”
With a nod, the butler stepped back, allowing James entry into the warmth of the foyer.
“Can I take your coat, sir?” the butler asked.
“I’m not—”
“I’m here. I’m here,” Prim’s sweet voice rang out in the cavernous room, and he turned to see her hurrying down the wide sweeping staircase with one hand lifting up her skirts and the other holding on to the heavily carved bannister.
His first thought was that her face glowed with beauty and anticipation. From there, he stopped thinking altogether, his brain grinding to a halt as he took in the slim line of her skirts, the way they swirled around her legs and hugged her hips. Then pure masculine appreciation kicked in as his eyes fell upon her nearly bared shoulders and the low scooping neckline. A pink diamond pendant rested at the rise of her breasts, which bounced seductively with each step she took.
He was almost taken to his knees by the rush of lust charging through his veins. When she bounded to a halt barely an arm’s length away, it was all he could do not to snatch her up and kiss the bloody dickens out of her.
“I’m ready.” She beamed up at him, tugging on her long gloves as she did so. “I do apologize, though. I already had dinner.”
“Mrs. Eames,” he choked out, his voice almost a feral growl. “You look...”
Anxiety flooded her eyes and she worried her lip delectably as she swept a nervous hand down her skirt. “Is it all right?”
“It is—” He cleared his throat. “You are utterly perfect.”
A broad smile lit her face, which grew rosier by the second as he continued to stare at her, fascinated by the transformation.
He wasn’t the old only one. The old butler was staring at her as well, making no attempt to hide his shock.
She might have already had dinner, but James thought she’d make an excellent dessert. “Utterly delectable.”
She fiddled with her necklace, her cheeks aflame now as she ducked her head. “Really?”
He recovered himself and chuckled then. Just like any female, she enjoyed being told how pretty she looked. He’d have to make sure he did so more often.
“I’ve never seen a sight more lovely.”
A maid raced down the stairs bearing a dark green velvet cape lined with mink and a matching fur muff. Though the awestruck butler moved to take them, James nudged him aside, doing the honors himself and taking the chance to whisper in her ear.
“You are a woman of many layers, Mrs. Eames.”
* * *
Prim shivered with pleasure as James’s lips brushed across her ear. Every moment of Nellie yanking her corset strings tight and tugging at her hair had been worth it to see his reaction.
What a glorious feeling to have a man look at you so!
“What’s going on here?”
Jeremy came out of the library with a tumbler of whisky in one hand and disbelief written all over his face.
Once he came to his senses, he was sure to set up a fuss. Make her miserable and guilty, but she didn’t want that. Not tonight.
Without giving him a chance to recover, she went to him. With a light hug, she rotated him so that James was out of his line of sight.
“Since you’re spending the night anyway, you won’t mind keeping an ear out for the children, would you? Nanny’s off for the evening but they’re already in bed, so there shouldn’t be much for you to do.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” he burst out, finally getting a grip on himself. “With him and dressed like that?”
Over Jeremy’s shoulder, she saw James bend his arm and make a muscle. Be strong, it said.
“I’m going out.”
“Out where?”
“Just out,” she told him in a voice her children never dared to argue with.
Jeremy looked cowed for a moment but started after her when she returned to James’s side at the front door. He hadn’t spoken or come to her defense. He was leaving it to her to handle on her own.
“Prim, I can’t just let you go off with him,” her brother protested. “Shane will have my head. And you promised.”
“I did not. Besides, you don’t have to tell him,” she said, sensing James’s disappointment in the words nearly mirrored her own. It was a copout, an unnecessary deception. Squaring her shoulders, she tried again. “As I told you and the others, if Mr. MacKintosh cared to court me, it would be my choice only that mattered. Well, he cares to and my choice is to let him. As I am a grown adult, those are the only two things that matter.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Prim saw Nellie’s broad grin. Even her butler looked on with a touch of pleasure. Their silent approval bolstered her confidence.
“We’ll have our backgammon game another night, I promise.”
She squeezed his hands affectionately but turned away and took James’s waiting arm lest her brother might latch on to her and physically restrain her from departing.
“Do have a pleasant evening, Jeremy.”
Still James said nothing. He merely offered her brother a grave nod and tipped his hat back onto his head.
Wordlessly, he escorted her to the curb and handed her up into the waiting carriage. He climbed up and sat next to her instead of across from her, his solid male body crowding her on the narrow seat. But warming, comforting her at the same time. Finally, when the cab jerked into motion, he spoke, his eyes glinting with pleasure even in the dim light of the carriage lamp.
“Brava, Mrs. Eames. You are magnificent.”
“I can’t believe I...oh, I feel so...” Jubilant. Powerful. Already it was the perfect evening and she’d hardly left the house! Elation welled up inside of her. “Oh, Jamie!”
* * *
She threw herself at him unexpectedly, but James caught her tight against him. Her lips met his, muffling her triumphant laughter. The kiss was regrettably brief. Prim pulled away, her lovely face lit with delight and awe taking his breath away.
“I did it.” She covered her lips with her fingertips as astonishment set in. “I did it,” she repeated more softly.
“I’m proud of you.”
“I’m proud of me, too.”
Then, to his surprise, she kissed him again. Her small hands cupping his jaw, not pulling him to her but lifting herself to him. The brush of her soft lips sent his pulse galloping wildly.
“Oh, Jamie,” she sighed against his lips, “thank you.”
“We’re not done yet,” he swore and covered her mouth more forcefully. Her lips parted beneath his, welcoming the stroke of his tongue, meeting it with hers.
“No, we are not,” she agreed in a saucy murmur and melted against his chest.
She tasted of caramel and peaches, so delicious he had to have more. His roughened hands stroked her silky nape, shoulders, and bare upper arms while he plied her lips with his. Using his tongue and teeth, he soon had her trembling with passion in his arms. Then he moved downward, licking, kissing, and nipping at her ear, her neck, over her shoulder and down to the tops of her breasts. His tongue dipped into the hollow between them until she was quivering from head to toe.
James kissed her again, his palm covering that tempting rise of her bosom as if by its own will. Prim moaned, low and needy. The vibration from deep within her sent his fingers tingling. He cupped her, kneading gently. Prim gasped but surprised him, not only by not protesting, but by arching her back to increase the pressure.
Bloody hell but he wanted to take her right there, toss up her skirts and plunder her like his ancient Scots ancestors. He wanted to consume and pillage...
Give.
God, he wanted to give her all the pleasure she was missing in life.
