“It’s only three weeks. Do you think the horses will be ready?” Cameron asked.
Nicholas scowled as Jaci entered the study and she knew it wasn’t because Cameron discussed plans for a pre-season race at Wildwood.
“Please, don’t get up on my account,” she said with a smile, and Nicholas immediately relaxed. She recognized it as a man thing, and even when she considered it stupid in the extreme, her statement helped him retain his honor.
She set the coffee service down, pleased to see him sitting behind his desk. Although she helped him with his therapy, she knew he still needed assistance getting around, especially to the bathroom, but she never saw him at those times. As intimate as they had become, he still wouldn’t allow her that familiarity. She listened to their conversation as she poured coffee. Nicholas hadn’t been happy with her, or Cameron, when they informed him they had organized a pre-season race and bar-b-que on Amanda’s birthday. That was why neither had told him until the invitations had been issued, both to other horse breeders and to friends and neighbors. Mackey had help make up a list, Mrs. Jeffrey and Delta had come up with the outdoor menu, and the entire staff was pitching in to get the grounds ready for the spring event.
It did her heart good to see everyone working hard, and knew they did it for Nicholas. Rumors were flying about his miraculous recovery, and although she sometimes felt their progress was slow, Nicholas called it interminable. Still, she supposed it could be viewed a miracle.
Nicholas looked up from his book work. “Well, since you and Miss Eastman decided to sponsor this fiasco, should it make any difference whether I’m in attendance?”
Cameron hopped up from his chair. “Of course it does, Nick. The Wildwood name is yours; the horses are yours. The whole idea of having a race was to get you to—”
“Cameron, don’t you have something to do?” Jaci interrupted, not wanting him to tell Nicholas that they had planned a race, hoping it would be the enticement he needed to walk again. She knew, with the man’s pride, that he wouldn’t accept their interference in that way. Besides, telling him wasn’t going to be necessary.
Nicholas was getting better each day. She noticed the way his hands gripped the exercise bars; more relaxed and not white knuckled as before. At the same time, she knew he was frustrated at not being able to walk without help.
She ushered Cameron out the door with whispered instructions to keep Amanda busy and not to return the rest of the day. She had decided Nicholas needed further prodding in his efforts to walk without using the exercise bars.
A mischievous smile on her face, she quietly closed the door behind the younger brother, turning the key in the lock. She leaned her back against the door surveying Nicholas, who chose to ignore her at the moment and remained engrossed with his ledgers.
The walking bars, as he referred to them, were situated at the end of his bed, stretching a good ten feet towards the desk, but still leaving another ten feet of open territory. Since Nicholas was already at his desk, she couldn’t hope that he could walk the distance back to the bars.
She stepped to the side, tilting her head to see behind the desk to the chair on which he sat. The study floor, like the other downstairs rooms, was hardwood and Nicholas’s desk chair sat on a small rug. So, that’s how they did it. Given the shiny surface of the floor, she bet the rug allowed Selkirk to push Nicholas around the room. Very clever, and just the trick she needed.
She reached over his shoulder to remove the pen from his hand. “It’s time for your workout.” She tried to keep her voice nonchalant, but it quivered in anticipation. Startled, he turned to look at her as she pulled the chair away from the desk. As she thought — it moved easily across the smooth floor. She gave him no time to protest as she scooted him over to the end of the bed, turned the chair in a complete circle — twice, simply for the fun of it — and stepped away.
“You can get yourself up to the bars from there. I’ll move to the other end where you can see me while you walk that way.” As she spoke, she backed up very, very slowly, never taking her eyes off him. She didn’t dare do anything until she knew he would complete the exercise. As promised, she stood near one end when he pulled himself up and slowly moved in-between the bars.
Nicholas kept his eyes focused on his feet, as if staring at them would insure that they moved. Jaci let him begin before she called to him. Her hands were at the neckline of her shirtwaist, unbuttoning the row of fasteners.
“Nicholas?” she spoke his name softly to get his attention.
When he raised his head, she slid the blouse off one shoulder. His gaze hardened and his steps faltered. She feared he would fall, but he shuffled his feet back under him and stopped, never taking his gaze from her bare shoulder.
“You can do that,” she nodded to the exercise bars, “while I do this.” She pulled her blouse out from her skirt and slid it the rest of the way off, dropping it to the floor. She ran the tip of her tongue over her teeth, seductively enticing him with every gesture. Her fingers unhooked her skirt, pushing it provocatively down her hips as she swayed from side to side.
Her actions galvanized him, and his feet began moving again. With each piece of clothing she removed, his steps seemed to quicken. Perspiration broke out on his forehead; his lips were edged with white as he concentrated on making his feet move.
They were no more than four feet apart — her with only stockings and chemise on; him at the end of the exercise bars. She knew he wanted her; saw the evidence of his passion in the way his chest heaved in exertion and anticipation. Would he take a chance?
Her gaze locked with his, seducing him, telling him of her need. She slid a finger in her mouth, and then traced her lips, gliding across her chin and down her throat to the edge of her chemise. His gaze never left the path her finger traveled.
He licked his lips, leaned forward, and hesitated. She felt a moment of remorse — had she pushed too hard? She held her breath as he tentatively took a step beyond the bars. One step after the other, bringing him closer to her. She didn’t move; didn’t reach out her hands to make the distance shorter because she knew he needed to do this by himself.
One more step and he clutched her shoulders. She winced slightly under the pressure, but stayed erect.
“Nicholas, you’re marvelous.” Her soft words seemed to break his concentration because he grabbed her around the waist as he fell, twisting so she landed on top.
“Oh, my God, I’m sorry,” she squealed, bracing herself above him with her arms, quickly scanning his face to see if he was in pain.
“It’s all right.” His voice was full of laughter as his hands brushed her hair back from her face. “I’m all right,” he said in awe. He pulled her head down, brushing his lips across hers. The exercises were forgotten; the pain forgotten in the glory of their physical awareness of each other.
“I must have you.” His ragged plea caught her by surprise and her heart beat faster.
Yes. It was what she wanted; what she dreamed about every night. Still, she hesitated. Her eyes surveyed the hard floor; a small throw rug was all that had cushioned their fall.
“Here?” she questioned even as the ache within her grew.
“Here; now.” Nicholas’s voice was urgent; his hands already sliding up her bare legs beneath her knee length chemise. “You started this, and I must see it through to completion.”
They hadn’t spoken about that first experience, nor touched since in an intimate way. Were his feelings genuine? She searched his face, wanting to see more than lust; or desperation. What she saw in his deep pewter gaze was adoration and passion, and she wanted to weep.
Instead, she kissed him with abandon, letting the excitement and intense heat flow through her body and into his. He clutched her tightly and managed to turn over, nestling his hips between her legs. He wasted no time in foreplay, but it didn’t matter. She wanted him as desperately. Only when he surged within her did she feel complete, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he began, awkwardly at first, to move his hips in the rhythm she ached for.
Their lovemaking was intense, and she wanted to draw him into herself and never let go. He was glorious, rising above her on the strength of his arms, face taut with pleasure. His hips danced erotically with hers and soon sent her spiraling upward to the stars. Her climax quickly swept her away, but with an intensity only born from love
When he collapsed against her, his head tucked in the crook of her neck, she cried. Sobs racked her, shaking her shoulders and causing her head to pound. She loved him so much! How would she bear it if she were now transported? How was she to live without this proud, stubborn, magnificent man who had taught her how to love? She cried harder.
“Sh, sh, sweetheart. I’m okay; I’m really all right.” He tried to reassure her, assuming mistakenly that she cried because they had fallen, or because he might be in pain. He rolled to the side, still rocking her gently against his hard body.
He began to apologize. “I’m sorry I was in such a hurry. I could easily blame you for enticing me, but even if I had made the overture, I don’t think I could have gone slowly.” He kissed the top of her head. “I wanted you so damn bad!” She felt the shake of his head against her hair.
“You do something incredible to me.” She murmured against his chest, calming now but unable to untangle herself. She felt his chest shake, and it took a minute to realize he was laughing. Almost too sated to response, she managed only a weak, “What’s so funny?”
“I find it incredibly amusing that a man of my demeanor and age would make love to a woman on a hard, wooden floor, especially when a bed is easily within reach.” He gave a big sigh, which Jaci assumed was male pride and satisfaction. “Not only that I would, but did with such great intensity and lack of control.” His last statement made Jaci feel every inch a woman, and very pleased to be his woman.
He released his hold and she sat cross-legged beside him as he struggled to pull his trousers back up. They hadn’t even managed to get properly undressed.
“One of these days, we are going to make love standing up.” Nicholas’s words caught her totally by surprise.
She had to grin as she asked, “Is that a promise?”
“No, that’s my sacred pledge to you.” His gaze was intent, and her stomach clutched with desire. Her heart swelled with love for this man who made her forget everything except how wonderful it felt to be in his arms.
* * *
Selkirk called them to dinner, and Jaci, Amanda and Cameron proceeded to the morning room. Jaci had long since abandoned the formal dining room for their meals. Before Cameron had returned, she and Amanda had often eaten in the kitchen.
The morning room, located past the study on the way to the kitchen, was small and intimate, even though the table easily sat twelve. It was of easy access for the kitchen staff, too. Before they sat, Jaci pulled the drapes back to let in what remained of the daylight. The dusky hues of sunset shimmered through the newly leafed trees.
“I’m glad spring is here; it makes such a difference from the dreary winter cold and early darkness.” She made the comment as Cameron held her chair and seated her to the right of the head of the table. He took a seat to the left of head, with Amanda on his left. An unspoken observance since Cameron had arrived was that Nicholas would someday sit again at the head of the table. Until then, his chair remained vacant.
“I’m glad it’s spring because my birthday’s soon,” Amanda chimed in, grinning from ear to ear as her father pulled out her chair, also. She had matured far beyond her five years over the past several months, but once in a while, the child in her emerged again. Jaci wished there were other children around for her to play with, for every child needed peers to establish themselves in the world. They didn’t need to act like adults in an adult world all the time.
“Papa has said maybe I can have a new pony for my birthday, but I don’t want one. I love Flower and he’s the only horse — what’s that?” Amanda interrupted her statement with the question.
“What’s what?” Jaci returned, but in the silence following her question, she heard the noise, too.
Thunk — pause — thunk — pause. It sounded like wood hitting wood, but not as though someone was wielding a hammer. She turned towards the noise, for she had her back to the door, when Amanda squealed and Cameron let out a curse.
A cane in his right hand and his left hand clutching Selkirk’s shoulder, Nicholas walked slowly into the morning room. His right leg was noticeably weaker than the left, and each time he moved it forward, the cane struck the floor with considerable force.
He hadn’t made it far into the room before Amanda shot out of her chair and raced around the end of the table. If it hadn’t been for Selkirk’s steadying presence, she would have knocked Nicholas to the ground when she barreled into him, grabbing his legs with both chubby arms and hanging on tight.
“Whoa, Muffin. It’ll be a while yet before I can swing you into the air like old times.”
“I don’t care. I love you, Uncle Nicholas. Miss Eastman and Papa said you would walk before the races because you wouldn’t want to miss them.”
“Oh, they did, did they?” Nicholas rejoined.
Jaci flushed guiltily as Nicholas shot her a glance, but in her elation over seeing him walk alone, she didn’t care if he thought their tactics underhanded.
Cameron had joined his daughter, replacing Selkirk to give Nicholas a steady shoulder as they advanced towards the table. Jaci stood at her chair and gapped. He looked devilishly handsome in his dark suit and white shirt, the silver threads of his hair only adding to his appeal. He was clean shaven and his strong jaw tightened in determination as he made slow progress.
She knew he had been getting better, but the few steps she had witnessed were nowhere near the accomplishment of walking from the study to the morning room. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as Nicholas moved past her to the head of the table. “I think you’ve been practicing without me,” she accused lightly.
Nicholas gave her a smile, nodding for her to be seated. Not until she had done so, did he drop into his chair, laying his cane on the floor beside him. “Some things can be done alone, while others need constant supervision,” he whispered just for her.
She felt her face flush and she sincerely hoped Cameron didn’t read the innuendo in his brother’s words, but apparently he was busy getting Amanda seated.
Amanda chatted throughout dinner and Jaci was happy to let her. She ate little, stirring her food around on her plate, her gaze constantly sliding to Nicholas. It was hard to believe he had walked on his own and sat there eating with them instead of in his room. It made her stomach spasm and her head pound. Did his recovery mean she was no longer needed here at Wildwood?
“The race is on my birthday, Uncle Nicholas. And Miss Eastman says we’ll have a big-be-quick for dinner.”
“Bar-b-que, Sweetie,” she corrected gently, pulling her thoughts back to the present.
“Although I wasn’t in favor of a race in the beginning, perhaps it would be a good time to sell off several horses,” Nicholas murmured as he sipped his wine.
“There’s no need to worry about the note payments, Nick.” Cameron looked adamant. “The ships are making good time and should be back in port by the end of June, laden with goods that will sell promptly. It isn’t necessary to sell off any Wildwood stock—”
“That’s beside the point, isn’t it, Cameron?” Nicholas’s voice, unusually harsh, commanded silence.
Jaci didn’t understand. “Why not use the horses for stud, instead—”
“Excuse me?” Nicholas exploded, and when she looked at him, his gaze shifted quickly to Amanda and back.
Still, she shrugged, used to having clear spoken conversations. “Talk to me.”
“A gentleman doesn’t speak about such things in the presence of ladies, especially those of tender years.” Again his gaze sliced to Amanda.
“Would it make any difference if Amanda weren’t here?” She refused to let the subject drop.
“Miss Eastman, that’s enough. I’ll not have my dinner interrupted by useless questions.”
For some reason, Nicholas was terribly agitated, and she wondered if they would have to allow him to re-establish himself again, now that he was walking. This male-ego thing was getting more than a little wearing. Perhaps it was time to do something about that, too.
She smiled sweetly. “Amanda, sweet, would you please excuse us? You may take your dessert in your room. Your papa will even join you, won’t you?” Her gaze silently implored Cameron to help. “Mr. Westbrooke and I need to talk.”
Amanda thought it a great treat to be allowed dessert away from the table, and Cameron seemed more than happy to comply with Jaci’s wishes, much to Nicholas’s consternation. Being a man, his brother should have stayed here to support him.
His thoughts were lost as his gaze followed Jaci. She escorted Cameron and his daughter to the door, quietly closing it behind them. He heard the key scrape in the lock.
Nicholas’s heart did a little flip-flop at the thought of being locked in a room with Jaci. He tried to recall his anger at her interference, but her hips swayed and the silk of her gown rustled and he knew he was lost.
“Why do you have to sell the horses, Nicholas? Why not use profits from Cameron’s shipping business?” Though she interrogated him, her voice caressed him and her gaze seduced him.
“It’s a matter of honor, Jaci. I made the loans, not Cameron, and I have a duty to repay them.”
“But you did it for Cameron; for your family. Isn’t it all right for family to help now?”
He leaned back in his chair, content to drink in her beauty. She had worn her hair up tonight, but little pieces escaped her bun and softened the lines of her face. Her gown, of palest green, shimmered around her.
He had apparently incited her ire, for her bosom heaved with indignation. He wished, rather fervently, for her beautiful breasts to spill out of the low neckline. His thoughts prompted him to wonder how quickly irritation turned to passion, and he decided to find out.
“I told you, it’s a matter of honor — something you apparently know little about.” He ended this sentence in a teasing voice.
“How can you say that?”
“You stripped me of my honor when you took advantage of me. I was flat on my back; helpless—”
“You wanted it, too.” Her eyes sparked and he recognized the look she had worn yesterday when they made love. “Admit it,” she demanded, her eyes alive, and he had her right where he wanted her.
“No,” he denied. “A gentleman would never admit he needed a woman.”
She shrieked at him, hurrying her movements from the end of the table until she stood directly behind his chair. Having pushed her over the edge, and now not sure that was a good move, he turned, trying to keep her in his sights.
She jerked his chair out from the table, and then marched around to face him again. Before he could plan his strategy, she hiked up her dress and climbed onto his lap, her face only inches from his. “Admit it — you need me.”
“No, I would never allow you that kind of power over me.” He continued to tease her, loving every minute of it as the sexual tension in the room rose. His body heat hovered near the melting point each time she squirmed on his lap. Suddenly she stilled, staring at him with a wide-eyed gaze that made his heart trip with passion.
“You’re the one who taught me passion, Nicholas, and how to feel. Now are you going to deny what you feel? What is part of us?”
He groaned his answer, pulling her close to thoroughly kiss her. She allowed him freedom to explore her mouth with his tongue, and the taste of her sent his senses spiraling. He kissed a trail of heat down her throat to the swell of her breasts.
He wanted to make love to her again, for yesterday seemed a lifetime ago. She curled her fingers in his hair, gently massaging his neck and he scoured his brain for an answer to his incredible need. When she wiggled her fanny against his groin, he thought he’d explode.
“Tell me you don’t need me,” she whispered in his ear, her tongue darting in and out, taunting him.
“Jaci, quit. You’re driving me crazy.”
She gave him a siren’s smile. With her tongue caught between her teeth, she scooted back, reaching down to quickly unbutton his trousers. His manhood sprang free, throbbing with need.
To his surprise and delight, she shifted her dress around, holding it up with one hand while the other hand caressed his length before allowing herself to slide down onto him. Nicholas closed his eyes, the sensations coursing through him so strong and pure he hoped he survived their impact. She moved quickly, and he realized she was as frantic as he to reach the pinnacle of satisfaction.
“I swear you’re a witch,” he murmured as he licked along the tops of her breasts. Her movements increased, carrying him swiftly toward fulfillment.
She clutched his shoulders and threw her head back, her face a mask of pure sensual pleasure. Nicholas thought he had never seen her more beautiful.
“Not...a witch,” she panted, “just from another...century.”
He was on the brink of climax as he heard her words, and realized it didn’t matter at all. He burst asunder, the impact of their coupling so intense he thought he could have been transported to another time.
* * *
“I can’t believe I did that,” Jaci gasped against his neck long minutes later.
“To what are you referring — seducing me, or screaming my name in the throes of passion?” He was quite pleased with himself, and with Jaci, though he would hesitate to openly admit he liked her brazen behavior.
“Oh, no, did I really scream?” She pushed her face closer to him, as though burying herself against discovery. Her breath against his hot skin was enough to start his passions rising once again.
He had to chuckle at her chagrin. “Actually, I doubt they heard you past the kitchen.”
She groaned.
“There is something to be said for you being from the future and more free with your feelings, but I do hope you never decide to attack me in public.” He had tried not to think about her origins. Sometimes, however, her attitudes, like towards sex, were foreign to his experience with women, he couldn’t help but recall she had come to him across more than one hundred years of time.
She finally lifted her head. He held his gaze steady as she searched his face, and he hoped whatever she wished to find would appear for her.
“Do you regret our relationship, Nicholas?”
He adamantly shook his head. “Though I must admit I don’t understand it, I most definitely don’t have any regrets. And while I will most probably wish I had kept my mouth closed, I find myself curious as to what a woman from 2008 expects in a relationship.”
She ticked her reasons off quickly, and he knew his eyes grew wider with wonder at each of her words. “Independence. There has to be a giving as well as taking — fifty-fifty. And trust — that’s most important. Oh, and women are very capable of having ideas, and those ideas have the right to be tried.” She paused to breathe, and he thought she looked very sure of herself.
“Fifty-fifty? It sounds as though you want to be a man.” He slid his hands down the smooth curve of her back. “That would be a terrible waste, you know.”
“Not a man, just equal; a partnership.”
“I suppose next you’ll tell me you want the right to vote for our government officials.”
“That, too.” She grinned at him. “What about you?”
He had no trouble telling her exactly what he thought. “A nineteenth century man takes care of what’s his.”
She quirked a brow at him and pursed her lips.
“Let me rephrase,” he gave in with a sigh. “I treasure any gift given to me. I protect those who have been magically placed in my care.” He kissed her nose lightly. “But, I do live by a code that demands honor, loyalty and fidelity. Can you accept that?”
“And does the fidelity thing work both ways?”
He knew what she was asking, and wondered what history had written about men of his era. Instead of answering directly, he questioned her, not knowing what standards she had lived by. “Would I have any reason to be unfaithful?”
“No.” Her answer was swift. Then her golden brows came together in a frown. “I have to behave according to today’s standards?”
“Absolutely. No arguing or questioning my authority in front of others.” On this, he would not yield.
She leaned forward, her breasts on the verge of spilling out of her gown. Her lips met his in a feathery kiss; once, twice. As he was inclined to deepen the kiss, she pulled back. “So I can’t be aggressive?” she asked.
“Well, I didn’t say that.”
“But if I’m to behave and obey perfectly by these standards, mustn’t I also be demure and submissive, and definitely not take an active role in lovemaking?” She wiggled her bottom and he yielded — quickly and completely.
“I suppose there are a few customs we can begin a century early.” She tickled his ear with her tongue and he sighed. “Ah, yes, definitely a few.”