Chapter Seventeen

Emily’s hands trembled as she pushed her hair away from her face. William’s cock still twitched inside of her, the remnants of his fluid leaking between them. His eyes were closed and he breathed heavily. She wet her lips and swallowed hard, shock running through her. What had she done? She was angry with him. Or at least she had been when she went to bed. She was no longer sure of anything. All it had taken was one glimpse of him, pacing the room distressed and her heart had constricted with worry. She’d attempted to brush it off but had only succeeded in bringing him closer. One kiss and the world around her had dissolved. Nothing mattered except William, his soft mouth and his hard body. It called to her, more enticing than anything else she’d ever experienced. She couldn’t stay away even if she tried. She fought to think about the reasons for not marrying him. She needed freedom and now, surely she’d be tied down to a house with a husband who never showed and a brood of children. Children. William’s children. With his eyes and his smile and his gentle heart.

Her own heart hurt as she realized that she didn’t think having children with William would be all that bad. The idea of him leaving her, however, was something else entirely. Even if he told her he loved her but how could she be sure? They were just words, like Phillip’s … just words that could be carried away by the wind, at any moment.

She blinked back tears and tried to control her haggard breathing. They were too close and she couldn’t allow him to see her distress.

“Are you all right?” William’s warm voice broke through her thoughts.

Emily nodded and kept her eyes closed lest he see something in them. The irritating man seemed to have a knack to read her.

“Are you sure?”

William’s hand cupped her cheek and she leaned into it instinctively. What was she doing? She pulled back, hastily. Plastering a smile on her face she opened her eyes, prepared to lie. She froze. Shards of amber danced in the brown depths of William’s eyes like a flickering flame atop a candle.

“Emily, what’s wrong?” His lips slanted downwards, a thin line of concern marred his forehead. William’s cock slipped out as she struggled to her feet.

“Nothing. I’m tired. That’s all.” Her knees buckled as she found solid ground. William made to help her, but she shrugged him off, holding on to one of the bedposts instead, her back to him. His juices, combined with hers trickled down her legs, making her acutely aware of what they’d done and the consequences.

“Can you sleep now or do you need to go out again?”

Going the long way around the bed, she snatched her shift and threw it over her head. The cloth snagged on her trembling fingers and she cursed under her breath. Finally she pulled one of her arms through.

“Wait.”

She froze at the sound of William’s voice and watched, enthralled, as he walked across the room to the pitcher of water. New heat curled through her veins as she observed his movements. Analytically, there was nothing sensual about them. It was simply a man dipping a cloth into water to cleanse himself. But to Emily it was so much more. It was dark waves resting on wide, tanned shoulders. It was a well-defined back, still reddened by her nail marks, which speared down to a delectable bottom. Emily’s mouth watered and her nipples hardened again as he turned around and walked toward her. She clamped her mouth shut, sucking in her lips in the vain hope that the desire to lick his chest would vanish. Who could be immune to that? Faint marks glistened beneath the thin layer of sweat that still coated his flesh. Her gaze dropped lower. Her quim pulsed. His penis was straight and long and thick and…

Emily tore her gaze away. What was she doing? She was losing herself in this torrid affair. It was madness. More than madness. Is this what sexuality did to people? Was this why Phillip had left her? Because she didn’t give him the privilege?

“Open your legs for me, love.”

“What?”

Emily glanced up at William. He was standing directly in front of her, smiling slightly as if he could read her thoughts. She frowned.

“Open your legs. I shall cleanse you.”

Shocked at his request, she didn’t move.

William chuckled. Grabbing hold of her waist, he pulled her closer. With his other hand, he lifted the hem of her shift.

“What are you doing?”

He did not reply as he placed his knee between her legs, forcing them open. Gentler than she thought possible, he placed the cold cloth against her folds. She shrieked.

“Almost done, love.”

Two more swipes and he was moving away, leaving her dizzy and confused. She didn’t thank him. She didn’t even acknowledge him. Thrusting her arm through her other sleeve, she dove beneath the covers. Hiding. She curled into a ball and shut her eyes. She was hiding like she did as a child when she was frightened. What was she scared of?

William didn’t say anything else. She heard the splash of water, and his soft footsteps as he returned to the foot of the bed. Then silence. Her heart beat erratically. Would he come to bed or would he leave? She pressed her fist over her mouth to stop from calling him. She wanted him in bed. God. She wanted to feel the reassuring warmth of his body against hers. And what was worse, she wanted to do the same for him.

She thought back to their drive that day. They’d barely spoken a word. William had attempted more than once to instigate a conversation, but she ignored him. Zounds. What was she, five? She was giving a grown man the silent treatment. Perhaps, he was not at fault, perhaps it was her. Her heart dropped to her stomach with shame and guilt. He’d been clear from the start. He wanted a wife to love and dally with. He’d told her, he loved her. They’d made love. He’d been nothing but gentle and loving with her. In exchange, she’d done nothing but treat him with contempt and anger.

“Come to bed.”

She removed the covers from her head and looked out. William stood in front of the hearth, stoking the fire. He’d donned his shirt and vest, his trousers momentarily forgotten while he fed the flames.

“It’s not morning yet and I said I wouldn’t hate you again until morning.”

She heard his heartbroken sigh from across the room. He released the poker and grabbed his trousers.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep and will only succeed in keeping you awake.”

“Just come to bed,” she snapped. “Please, William.”

She was begging and she knew it. She just hoped that it wasn’t too late. William didn’t react. He stood in the same place, staring at the fire as if the flames had the answer to life’s questions. After an eternity, he shook his trousers and pressed them to his body. Emily swallowed hard. Rejection burned her throat like the hard liquor she’d once clandestinely tasted with a friend. She covered her head again and tried to ignore the pain in her gut. Outside, she thought she could hear the rustle of William’s clothes as he redressed.

Suddenly, the mattress sunk at her side. Her pulse quickened. He’d come. The blankets lifted as he covered himself. She threw herself on him, hugging him from behind.

“Emily.”

The gentle surprise in his voice was impossible to miss. It made her smile.

“Be silent, you stubborn mule. Close your eyes and think nice thoughts.”

Giddiness surged through her as William issued no protest. Instead, he snuggled deeper into her embrace. She brushed her hair from his face and kissed his naked shoulder. He smelled musky, with a hint of wood, rain and sex. All her thoughts evaporated as happiness infused her.

William turned over so he was flat on his back. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her into him so her head rested on his chest. Emily smiled. She placed her hand over his heart, feeling the thump of his heartbeat against her fingers. She closed her eyes, listening to the crackle of the flames and William’s breath as he slowly relaxed and fell asleep.