Romancing the Countess

I’ve noticed that your kisses have been longer, sweeter recently. Is it because we know that soon we will have every minute of every day to be together, that there’s no need to rush each moment now?

Three hours later, as Leah was preparing for bed, a knock came at the door from the hallway. Pulling her wrapper close around her night rail, she strolled across the rug and opened the door.

Sebastian stood on the other side in a black cloak. He held out his hand, palm facing upward. On it lay a small box, wrapped in plain brown paper.

“A gift for you,” he said. “I may have neglected to tell you that, in addition to visiting the tenants, we also bought you something in the village.”

“We?” Leah questioned, smiling. She wanted to ask him why he’d left as he had earlier, but it seemed the moment had passed. Everything was well between them again. Sebastian was here, his mouth curved charmingly, and her heart raced as a result. Yes, just like it should be.

He lifted a shoulder. “Henry actually chose it, though he used my coin. Therefore I suppose that yes, we bought it together.”

Leah reached out and lifted the package from his hand. With a glance at him from beneath lowered lashes, she unwrapped the paper. Inside was a silver box. She shook it.

She raised a brow. “Oh, perhaps it is. What a beautiful box,” she said, turning it around so she could gaze at it from all angles.

Sebastian chuckled and stepped forward, taking her hands between his. “However, I promise you that there is something inside this one.”

“Late?” Leah pulled the lid from the box and peered inside, aware of Sebastian’s hand brushing against her breast as she brought the gift closer. A blue ribbon lay at the bottom, its satin length edged by lace.

“Henry wanted to buy you a hair ribbon,” Sebastian explained. “We searched for over an hour for the perfect gift, and this is what he chose. Although . . .” He paused, lowering his head to press a kiss to Leah’s neck. “I must admit that when I saw it I thought of tying up things other than your hair.”

Leah’s gaze fell from the cloak across his shoulders to the width of his chest, the leanness of his waist and down the length of his legs. Of course she would go with him. He could ask to take her to France on a storm-swept sea in nothing more than a canoe, and she’d say yes.

“Shh.” She glanced at him, her brows knit. Sebastian grinned and winked at her. “You must whisper, else we’ll get caught.”

Unable to stop herself from smiling again, she stepped back and closed the door. As soon as she donned a simple day dress and her own cloak, she joined him in the corridor. “Here I am, my lord.”

“Sebastian!” she shrieked, kicking her legs ineffectually, as his arm was wrapped around her thighs. The hood of her cloak fell over her head, obscuring her vision. She grasped handfuls of his cloak, trying to steady herself as he descended the stairs.

As he continued walking and her hood bobbed out and away from her face, Leah could see two footmen from the corner of her eye as they walked out the front door.

Sebastian patted her bottom as if she needed to be soothed. Then, as they fell outside the circle of lamplight from the house, his movement turned into a caress, circling across her buttocks.

“Yes. I also recall saying that I wished for independence. Having a brute of an earl carry me over his shoulder does not make me feel very independent.”

“My poor, dear wife. Well, we cannot have everything, can we?” With one arm still holding her pinned to his chest, she felt his other hand creep up her calf.

“Oh, this?” As if her hand was nothing more than a gentle breeze, his fingers continued their ascent, slipping over the back of her knees to tickle at her thighs.

“We’re here,” he announced, and brought her down, sliding her down the front of his body, setting his hands at her hips to steady her as her feet hit the ground, holding her flush against him.

She’d been so concerned with being hauled away that she hadn’t even paid attention—not that she could with her hood obscuring her vision, anyway—to where they were going.

The night air was cool on her flushed cheeks, but every other part was warm—burning—from him. He tipped her chin up with his finger and leaned down, gently kissing her.

Leah closed her eyes, savoring his touch as much as her own ease with it. She’d never thought to be able to enjoy a simple kiss again. But when his hands moved from her waist, up toward her breasts, she involuntarily tensed, then hated herself for doing it. His hands fell away, and with one last quick kiss, he stepped around her.

Leah turned, feeling deserted in his absence, as if a great gift had been stolen from her. She detested this wariness. She had no reason not to trust him, no reason not to give him everything. Time and again he’d proven he was nothing like Ian.

She wanted to apologize, but before she could open her mouth, her gaze landed behind Sebastian, on the small boat bobbing at the edge of the water. He’d brought her to the lake on the Wriothesly property. With no lamp, the only light given was the light from the moon and the stars above, and those were partially obscured by the clouds scudding across the sky. The water was cast half in shadow, half silvered by the faint light. A line of trees ringed the lake; from this perspective, it appeared that they were the only ones in existence, the trees shielding them from the outside world.

She stepped forward, even as questions rose to her lips. “It’s too cold, isn’t it?” His hand was warm as it enfolded hers. “And it’s too dark. What if we tip over and fall in? Or hit something?”

His eyes were even darker as he steadied the boat with one hand and guided her in with the other. “I won’t let you tip over.”

Leah tilted her head back and looked up at the sky as she settled into the far end of the boat. “The clouds make it appear as if it might rain.”

“Leah.” His voice nudged her, brought her gaze back to him as he gave the boat a push, then vaulted over the side. “It’s an adventure. If something terrible happens, then that’s part of the amusement.”

She smiled, unable to help it, and watched in the silvered moonlight the movement of his chest and shoulders, the play of muscles revealed by his parted cloak. She wrapped hers even tighter around her, wishing she was still being held in his embrace. Wishing, just for once, that she could let go and not think about anything except the pleasure she gave him and the pleasure he gave her.

After a few minutes, Sebastian pulled the oars out of the water and set them in their hooks. He stared across at her as the boat drifted at the lake’s whim, a breeze tugging at the ends of his hair.

“Of course I do,” she answered. It was the first time he’d touched her. Even now she felt the heat of a blush creep beneath her skin, suffusing her with warmth.

In her mind, she saw Ian bent at Angela’s breast again. Leah gripped the bench at either side, waiting, unsure what he would say, but staggered by how much greater the pain was this time.

“—and many times as well, but I never felt like it was the right time.” He looked down at the water, brought a hand up to scrub the length of his jaw. “In truth, I don’t think it will ever feel like it’s the right time.”

“You don’t want me anymore.” That was the most obvious conclusion; easy enough to believe after the way he’d left her bedchamber earlier that evening.

His hand dropped away and he stared at her. “I love you, Leah.” Even in the faint light from the moon, his expression was one of torment.

“I—I—” She stammered, and she suddenly felt hot all over, then cold. Then, because even though she had tried to escape her background, and because politeness was still ingrained into her very core, she said, “Thank you.”

He didn’t say anything, either, and when she finally looked up after a long moment, she found him studying her, one corner of his mouth drawn into a tight, sad smile. “I made a mistake, didn’t I? I was right at the beginning—I never should have asked you to marry me.”

She clasped her hands together, hid them in folds of her cloak as she wrung them. “I . . . enjoy being married to you, Sebastian. I truly do. And I adore Henry—”

He cut her off, slashing his hand through the air angrily. “This isn’t about Henry,” he said. “This is about you, and me, and the fact that you will never forgive me.”

The boat rocked, the lake lapping little waves at the side. Despite her flushed cheeks, Leah was suddenly colder in the silence, and she huddled further into her cloak. “I have,” she repeated. Then, feeling the need to defend herself, she said, “It’s never been about Ian . . . well, at least, not all of it.” She stared at her hands, clasped so tightly together in her lap that her knuckles turned white. She inhaled deeply, then released a sigh. She looked up, met his gaze, then looked away to the moon’s reflection on the water. “It’s always been Angela.”

As she watched, she saw a ripple in the reflection of the moon. She thought it was a fish, but then another ripple marred the surface and she felt wetness splash against her cheek.

Leah examined the sky. Another raindrop, then another, spattered over her cheeks, landed right below her eye. “It’s raining,” she said, glancing at him. “We should go back.”

Before he could even finish the sentence, a rumble of thunder poured from the sky, and at its pronouncement a sheet of rain fell from the heavens. “Fine,” Sebastian said, raising his voice to be heard over the rain. He glared at her, as if she’d been the one to start the storm. “I’ll row back, but we’re not finished talking.”

He unhooked the oars. “How do you mean it’s about Angela?” Apparently he didn’t intend on waiting until they returned to the house.

“Nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She, too, raised her voice to be heard over the sound of the rain cascading down, repelling against the lake.

“Well, you did, so finish it.” He glanced over his shoulder to steer them. His cloak gaped, revealing the front of his shirt already plastered to his chest by the rain.

He whipped his gaze around, fastening on her. He opened his mouth, but the boat ran aground, jerking her forward. Wind sent the rain slipping inside her hood, trailing down her cheeks and inside the collar of her dress. Sebastian climbed out, pulling the boat farther onto the shore, then waded into the water. Leah stood and held out her hands, but he picked her up by her waist and then cradled her, one arm behind her back and the other beneath her thighs as he carried her to dry land. As soon as he stepped on the soil, she said, “Put me down.”

This time, he didn’t refuse, but held on to her wrist when she would have pulled away. “I know you’re not Angela,” he shouted above the wind.

She shook her head. “From the beginning, you’ve compared me to her. I didn’t smell like her, I didn’t act like her.”

“Yes, you did. But can’t you see? You loved her. Ian loved her. She was everything I’m not.” He tried to tug her to his chest, to wrap his cloak around her, but she wrenched free, her hood falling open. “I’m sorry, but I can’t be the wife that you need.”

Now tears were pouring down her face, mixing with the rain as she struggled forward. “It doesn’t matter! She’ll always be there, between us. Just as she was there with Ian. You might not think it now, but you’ll realize it soon. You’ll wake up and miss her, wish that it was her with you instead of me. You’ll—”

A hand caught her shoulder, twisting her around. Leah cried out as she lost her balance, but Sebastian caught her. Steadied her.

“Goddamn it, woman!” he shouted above the wind and rain. “Listen to me! It will always be you.” Thunder roared again. His hands shifted from her waist to her shoulders. “You, Leah!” From her shoulders to her neck, cradling her head between his palms. “You!”

He kissed her. Hard. Leah dug her nails into his wrists to hold on against the onslaught of his mouth. He was savage, ruthless. Gone was the gentleman who’d pleasured her so thoroughly; gone was the understanding husband who’d held her all night in his arms. He demanded, and she gave; he pushed against the seam of her lips, and she opened, welcoming him. He was like a wave assaulting her senses, sweeping her under, away with the tide.

Leah couldn’t think. The rain slicked her hair to her head, forcing her to close her eyes and simply feel. The warmth of his hands holding her head steady for his plunder, the heat of his body as she stepped forward and burrowed into him, unable to get close enough. The bruising of her mouth as he bit her lips, the tender give of his flesh as she bit his.

She tugged at his cloak, his shirt, great soaking handfuls of cloth that fought her attempts to strip them away. Her fingers fumbled at his waist, and he moaned against her mouth. She gave up, and stroked him through his trousers, molding her palm against the hot, rigid length of him.

His hands fell from her neck, but his mouth stayed. He continued kissing her, his tongue warring with hers as he touched her breasts, her stomach, tugged up her sodden skirts to her knees, then her thighs.

Leah broke their kiss, gasping. “Sebastian.” He captured her mouth again as his finger filled her, and she sank onto the pleasure. He went with her until they were kneeling on the ground, streams of water running past. She lay down, tugging him with her, bucking her hips as he inserted two fingers, then withdrew. Again and again. She tossed her head and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him toward her, over her. She succeeded in loosening his trousers and filled her hand with his cock, hot and heavy in her grip. He broke away from their kiss, his fingers halting their slick slide inside her.

Leah opened her eyes. He was above, staring down at her, water dripping from his face. Looking into his gaze, Leah shoved his arm away and spread her legs, offering herself to him. Not a soulless offering to a man who didn’t want her, but a willing sacrifice to a man who did. She lifted her hips even as she felt hot tears escape from the corners of her eyes. “I love you, too,” she said, then sealed her mouth to his.

He didn’t move. Not until she repeated it against his lips, and urged him against her, and then he was filling her, stretching her, pushing her, heavy and fast. Her hands moved frantically over his back, his head, down to his waist. She clawed at his trousers, urging him to go faster.

He ran his mouth down her neck, burying his head at her throat, and she tipped her head back, caught in the rush of ecstasy as her hips rose again and again to meet his thrusts. She saw the lightning flash across the sky, felt him lift his chest away from her. She tried to pull him back, but he pushed his hand between them, stroking, stroking at her flesh. Leah cried out, wrapping her legs tightly around him, and her scream was quickly followed by his own cry as he found his release, his hands gripping her waist with his final thrust.

She held him, sheltering his head against her neck, her hand keeping the rain away from his eyes. Taking a deep breath, she let the air fill her lungs, let it push her closer toward him until there was no question that they were one, the rapid beating of his heart matching hers.

Sebastian lifted his head and looked down at her. Suddenly shy, Leah tried to glance away, but he cupped her cheek and directed her gaze back to his. Then he smiled, the most breathtaking, devastating crook of a smile that she’d ever seen.

Lightning seared the black sky, turning the entire world white. The roar of thunder soon followed. And he kissed her again.