Unable to stand still, Harrison paced near the entryway. He was anxious to get this wedding night under way. Finally, noise on the landing caught his attention. Nellie came down the stairs first, a knowing smirk on her face, then his wife followed.
His wife.
Jesus, he would never tire of saying that. Maddie was all he’d wanted, the only woman he’d ever loved, and she was his. Forever.
She avoided his gaze as she said goodbye to her parents. Then she wrapped her fingers around Harrison’s arm and tugged him out the door. “Let’s go.”
Once at the carriage, he helped her up. “I assume you are still mad at me.”
“Perceptive of you.” She settled on the seat and stared out the window.
The Archer cottage was barely five minutes away from the chateau. There wasn’t much time for a protracted conversation, which he would initiate once they were at the house. However, he did want a bit of his old Maddie back, the girl with the sunny disposition and loud laugh.
Before anything else happened, he had to coax some of the anger out of her. Slipping off his gloves, he shoved them in his coat pocket and snatched her hand. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t relent. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Worshipping you, if you’ll let me.”
The answer seemed to stupefy her so he took advantage by pressing his mouth to the bare skin of her arm, just at the edge of her glove. She gave another tug, weaker this time, and sucked in a gulp of air. He kissed her again, his tongue flicking the tender skin, and goose bumps erupted on her flesh. Feeling victorious, he began unbuttoning the glove, the tiny pearl beads slipping through the holes one after another. Each small bit of her skin received attention from his mouth, moving higher and higher, toward her hand, until he nibbled on the delicate underside of her wrist.
Her soft pants filled the carriage as they drove through the quiet town. Working steadily, he loosened the thin cloth until he was able to pull each finger free. When he finished, he pressed a deep kiss to her palm. “I always liked your hands. They’re strong and capable, not delicate.”
“It’s from tennis. I try to soften them with ointment,” she whispered, her gaze locked on their hands. “Nothing works.”
“You don’t need to soften anything for me, Mads. I like every rough edge and hard spot. You are perfect.”
He heard her swallow thickly. “I am hardly perfect.”
“You are perfect to me. You always have been.”
“Even when I was covered in sand and seaweed that one time? You called me The Colossal Sea Creature for the rest of the summer and said you were going to write to Mr. Barnum about hiring me.”
“Even then.” He flipped her hand over and kissed the back. “Especially then, because you never failed to make me smile at a time in my life when I desperately needed it.”
The carriage slowed as the wheels turned into the drive of his family’s cottage, and he reluctantly released her. The dark mansion was cold and brutal, with its boxy front and looming chimneys. Squat and forbidding, with no flowers or hint of welcoming, so very much like his family. He’d been trained to be quiet here, to walk instead of run, to hide his thoughts and never let anyone know what he was feeling.
Soon the property would belong to him and he would refashion it into whatever Maddie wished. Maybe he’d tear the structure down and start over, build something entirely new. Then they could forge happy memories here, with no remnants of his past.
The front door opened and Evans, the butler, began directing the footmen to help with the trunks. “Mr. Archer,” he said as Harrison descended. “Welcome back.”
“Hello, Evans.” He turned and helped Maddie out of the carriage. “May I present my wife, Mrs. Archer?” Maddie stiffened, likely surprised at hearing the words for the first time, so he put his hand at the small of her back and guided her forward.
“Mrs. Archer.” Evans bowed. “It is a pleasure. Please accept my congratulations on behalf of the staff.”
“Thank you.” Maddie’s face softened at the older man, one she’d met often during their childhood. “I see you haven’t changed a bit since the last time I visited.”
Evans puffed up, obviously pleased from the compliment. “Kind of you to say, ma’am, but the knees are a bit creakier. I can always tell when rain is coming.”
“I’ll send you some of the liniment I use on my sore muscles,” she said. “It helps after tennis practice. I got the recipe from one of the pitchers for the Brooklyn Bridegrooms.”
Harrison frowned as they moved inside. “A baseball player?”
“Yes. He’s a friend of my coach, Valentine Livingston.”
Jealousy curled through his belly, but he stifled the growl rising in his throat. Of course she’d made friends and gone out during these past three years—he had done the same in Paris—yet he was greedy to reclaim every minute of the time they were apart. He wanted her all to himself.
You are the one who left. You can hardly blame her for carrying on here.
True. Someday he would learn of all that he’d missed, the adventures she’d undertaken without him. Tonight, however, had a very different purpose. And it wasn’t talking.
He tugged her toward the back of the house, in the direction of his surprise. “Evans, as soon as everything is settled with our bags, you and the rest of the staff may have the night off.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“And please pass on my thanks for all you and the staff have accomplished today.”
The staff had moved mountains to do as Harrison had asked. His father had accepted their obedience as his due, acting as if every employee and staff member owed him absolutely everything—including their bodies, if he so desired. He had been an abusive employer, and Harrison had to prove to the staff that he would not act in the same barbaric manner.
Shaking off those memories, he clutched Maddie’s hand tighter and led her outside. He was ready to let go of the past and embrace their future together.
Once they reached the back lawn, she asked, “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
She tried to dig in her heels as they neared the stables. Not far was the carriage house, its wooden doors closed. “Harrison, I have experienced enough surprises today. If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone in a bath.”
Turning, he scooped her into his arms. “I swear, you’ll like this one.”
With her arms wrapped lightly around his shoulders, she remained quiet the rest of the way to the carriage house. The feel of her against him was dizzying, like he’d sipped absinthe for hours. He’d thought of this night so often, had imagined it over and over, that he almost couldn’t believe he’d finally done it.
She’s my wife. Mine, forever.
Tonight, he was going to show her exactly what that meant.
He set her on the ground and pulled the carriage house doors open. Inside, everything was arranged exactly as he’d asked. The structure had been emptied, the vehicle and equipment replaced by a tiny round table, two chairs and a divan. Lights were strung across the ceiling, the bare bulbs casting a gentle yellow glow over the interior, and plush carpets covered the floor. An array of sweets and fruit littered a side table, while a bottle of champagne chilled in a bucket next to the table.
Her head swiveled as she took it all in. “What is this? I don’t understand.”
He took a deep breath. Even if what he said scared her, it was time for honesty. He owed her that much. How could they ever move forward if he didn’t tell her why he’d come to Newport?
He closed the door and slowly approached her. Shoving his hands in his trouser pockets, he tried to slow his pounding heartbeat. “You know I used to hide out here during the summers. That house, Mads . . .” Grimacing, he gestured behind them to the cottage. “It holds no pleasant memories. None at all. I was miserable there. But here, I was free. I used to lie in the closed carriage or up in the loft, anywhere I couldn’t be seen. Do you know what I used to think about when I was here?”
A crease formed between her brows. “No.”
“You. I went over every word you uttered, every smile you bestowed. I imagined what our future might look like, if we were together. I wondered if you could ever want me as much as I wanted you. And do you want to know what else?”
Her eyes were wide and steady. “What?”
Stepping forward, he took her hand and threaded their fingers together. “I thought about kissing you.”
“Really?”
“All the time. So it seemed fitting to bring you here tonight in the hopes of sharing our first kiss as man and wife.”
“You kissed me after the wedding ceremony.”
He shook his head. “That was not a kiss. I mean a proper kiss, one that will steal your breath and soak your drawers.”
She gave a startled laugh. “I see.” Then her head cocked to the side as she studied him. “You wanted me, even then?”
“I did.” He lifted his free hand and placed it on her cheek. “I still do.”
“You are making it very hard to stay mad at you.”
“Then you had best brace yourself for what I am about to say next.” His thumb stroked the soft skin of her face. “I came to Newport for you. I never had any interest in those other women. The house party was a ruse just to be close to you.”
Her jaw fell open. “You are joking.”
“Not even a little. From the moment I heard you hadn’t married, I decided I would beg, borrow and steal to win you. Fate had handed me one more chance and I was not going to waste it this time.”
“What do you mean, this time?”
“That I wasn’t going to give up so easily.”
“You are the most confusing and infuriating man, Harrison Archer.”
“At least I’ll never bore you.”
She put a hand on his shoulder, putting space between them. “Wait, you asked me to host a house party for you, to invite my unmatched friends, merely as a way to spend time with me?” She asked the question flatly, without a hint of emotion, and he wondered if he’d erred by telling her.
You had to tell her. Lies merely breed more lies.
“Yes.”
Understanding dawned on her face. “Nellie insisted you had no interest in any of the other women. And this explains why Katherine never returned to the gazebo.”
“Your friends told you?”
“Not all of them.” She fingered one of his collar studs absently, but he was very aware of her touch, each tiny movement sending waves of heat through his veins. He held perfectly still, desperate for the innocent fondling to continue. She shook her head. “I cannot decide whether to be angry or flattered.”
“I am hoping the latter, obviously, but I probably deserve the anger, too. You went to a lot of trouble on my account.”
“Yes, I did, and all of my friends attended in good faith.” She paused. “What if it hadn’t succeeded with me? Would you have pursued one of those other women?”
The answer came swiftly. “Absolutely not.”
“So you would have let your mother cut you off?”
“I don’t wish to discuss my mother—now or ever.” He pushed a lock of silken hair behind her ear. “Just know that this right here was all that mattered—you and me, together.”
She softened, warmth darkening the emerald of her eyes to more of a moss green, and she slid her arms around his shoulders. He held his breath, not wanting to push her, letting her take the lead. For now.
She toyed with the hair at his nape. “I have so many questions. My head is spinning.”
“I’ll address all of them in due time, I promise.” He slid his hands onto her hips. “And I’d like to think more than questions are making your head spin.”
She licked her lips, her chest rising and falling more rapidly, their hips almost touching. “You owe my friends an apology.”
He stared at her mouth. Those full, wet lips were begging to be kissed, to cushion his mouth as he told her without words all that she meant to him. “I’ll send them each dozens of flowers if it means you’ll forgive me.”
“That will be a start. And you owe Lockwood an apology, as well. He did not deserve to be humiliated like this. I will find my own way to make amends to him, and you must do the same.”
“I will, I promise.” He arched a brow at her. “Does that mean we may proceed with more interesting pursuits?”
“Like kissing?”
“That will be a start,” he echoed. Bending closer, he lowered his voice. “Kiss me, please, Maddie. Make that young boy’s dreams come true.”
“I’d rather make the man’s fantasies come true.”
Lust streaked along his spine and settled in his groin. “Are you certain? Because the man has quite a number of fantasies and some are shockingly creative.”
“You should know by now that I am always up for a challenge.”
Goddamn, he loved this woman.
He pulled her close, leaving just a sliver of space between their bodies. “Then we best get started.”
Maddie held on, her mind reeling from Harrison’s proximity and words. She knew she should be furious that the house party had been a ruse—and she was definitely angry on behalf of her friends, who’d attended in good faith—but part of her was flattered.
I decided I would beg, borrow and steal to win you.
She wasn’t used to this ruthless, ambitious version of Harrison Archer. But at least that explained why he’d pushed her, why he hadn’t liked Lockwood.
Unfortunately, the lust crawling over her skin was scrambling her reason, dulling the questions she knew she should be asking. Numbing the anger and masking the bewilderment. Everything faded as Harrison continued to stare down at her.
It was a face she knew well, from the tiny lines around his eyes to the way his hair curled near his collar. But this was new between them, new and thrilling. She never dreamed he’d stare at her with such fierce longing and intense devotion, as if she was absolutely everything.
Just know that this right here was all that mattered—you and me, together.
Answers and apologies could wait.
“I don’t want to rush you.” He searched her eyes, his fingers tightening on her hips ever so slightly, as if he struggled to hold on to his self-control. “Would you like champagne first?”
She thought back to the changing room, to the gazebo, where the connection between them had proven untamed and irrefutable. Every part of her craved that wildness, the passionate frenzy she’d experienced only with him. “Champagne can wait.”
She rose up on her toes and closed the distance between them, her mouth meeting his in a less-than-perfect effort. He didn’t seem to notice, though, and instantly moved to meld his lips with hers. His mouth was coaxing and gentle but he gave no respite, stealing her breath and her wits. Soon she was dizzy and desperate, her fingertips digging into his scalp to hold on.
Closer. More. Please.
As if she’d spoken the words aloud, Harrison parted his mouth and flicked his tongue against her lips. She opened for him with an urgency that would have shocked her a week ago. His mouth was warm and slick, and the kiss deepened, their breathing harsh as they each struggled for air. It was as if they were still in the gazebo, picking up exactly where they left off last night.
His hands slid to cup her backside and he pulled her flush to his front, her hips crashing into his, and she could feel his erection, hard and impatient, against her. It was impossible to remain still. She was feverish, burning alive, with every part of her growing more frustrated and needy as the kiss wore on.
He broke off to press openmouthed kisses along her jaw, her throat. He sucked hard on the sensitive skin at her pulse point, and pleasure arrowed straight between her legs. Releasing her, he murmured, “I want to mark you, even though I shouldn’t. Make it so that everyone knows you are mine.”
The idea appealed far more than it should have, considering she had been engaged to another man this morning. “Only if I may mark you in return.”
“God, I would love nothing more.” He nipped at her bottom lip, and the delicious sting of his teeth caused her to shiver. “But it’s hardly necessary. I have always been yours.”
Speech proved impossible after a declaration like that, so she kissed him instead, slower this time, and he let her, his hands holding her steady as she explored his mouth. Her tongue swept over his plump lips, then she nibbled and sucked until his breathing hitched, and then he was diving into her mouth, taking over with bold strokes and deep kisses until she whimpered. Everything in her strained toward him, her pulse pounding in her ears like a drumbeat.
Why had she never known it would be like this between them? So necessary, so utterly perfect. Desire clawed and scratched inside her, more forceful than she’d ever experienced during her own explorations. His hands were everywhere, coasting over the places within reach. When he palmed her breast, she arched into him, eager for more, but all this clothing . . .
“Shall we go to the house,” he panted against her mouth, “where I may do all manner of wicked things to you in a proper bed?”
She thought about the house, with its impersonal coldness and disapproving shadows. A place he hated, one that held no kindness or hospitality. It hardly seemed fair of her to contemplate staying there, and besides, they were here, in the spot where he’d dreamed of her. Dreamed of them together. “No. We should stay.”
“But . . .” He cast a quick glance at the divan, as if weighing the tiny piece of furniture against all the things he longed to do to her. “Are you sure?”
She’d never been more certain. “I don’t need a bed, but I will need help out of this gown.”
The side of his mouth hitched. “That I can do.”
Spinning her away from him, he set to work on the tiny buttons at her nape, unfastening them with brisk efficiency. The air in the carriage house was warm and filled with the songs of crickets and cicadas from outside, a familiar and fitting backdrop to their wedding night. He said nothing as his fingers plucked and moved, both of them breathing hard. She started to unfasten the buttons at her wrist, though her progress was slow and unwieldy.
“Goddamn it,” he muttered. “So many buttons.”
Finally, he loosened the dress enough to slide his hands inside, around her corseted waist and up to her chest, where he covered her breasts. When her back met his front, his erection nestled into her backside and she inhaled sharply. He surrounded her, sensation everywhere, and she pressed closer, rocking her pelvis into his.
Harrison hissed, his fingers tightening on her chest before turning her around, where she saw the raw need on his face, the flush to his skin. There was a wildness in his eyes that hadn’t been there a moment ago, but a vulnerability, too. “I don’t know if I can be gentle with you,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
“I am not fragile.” She held up her wrist in a silent plea for help.
The buttons on her wrists were quickly undone and he lowered the gown to the floor. She untied her petticoats, letting them fall, as well.
Then she stood in her corset, shift and drawers in the middle of the floor, and though nerves bubbled in her stomach, she made no attempt to hide herself. If this had been anyone else, she’d likely be terrified. But she wasn’t shy with Harrison, never had been.
He took his time looking her over, his hands gliding over the curves still hidden by whalebone and cloth. “My God, you are gorgeous.” Stepping behind her, he plucked at the corset strings, loosening them, until the heavy piece could be removed. Her breasts were average-sized, but right now they were full with longing, the nipples tight points behind her thin shift. When he took the flesh in his strong hands, shaping and caressing her, she let her head fall back onto his chest, her lids drifting closed, as the pleasure sizzled along her spine and down between her legs.
Her shift came off and his hands caressed the bare skin of her breasts, shooting a jolt of electricity to her core. His touch turned rougher, his hot breath in her ear, and he squeezed with delicious pressure. Then his fingers went to the tips where he teased her nipples, pinching them, and she gasped. “Harrison.”
With a growl, he dug his hard shaft into her backside. “I have waited a lifetime to hear you say my name like that.” His palm traveled south until he reached the juncture of her thighs. “Hmm, your drawers are soaked.”
“I guess that means you’ve kissed me properly.” She raised her arms and twined them around his neck, curving her body to his. She felt so comfortable with him, as if nothing she could do would shock or disappoint him.
His fingers delved inside the cloth until he found her center, where she was swollen and slick. No hand but her own had ever explored here, and she loved the feel of his calloused fingertips as he traced every part of her, from the outer lips to the entrance.
“You’re so perfectly wet,” he murmured against her neck. “I cannot wait to taste you.”
He continued to pet her, avoiding the one place that ached the most, and she could hardly stand the teasing. “Please,” she heard herself say as if from a distance.
“Get on the divan.”
Though his voice was steady, his breathing was not, and his reaction emboldened her. She walked to the divan, knowing he watched, knowing the heels of her short boots angled her backside higher. When she turned and perched on the divan’s edge, bare from the waist up, his gaze was bright and hot, hungry and full of adoration. She felt even more powerful than she did on the tennis court. Deep down, she knew that Harrison, her closest confidant for most of her life, would always protect her.
I wondered if you could ever want me as much as I wanted you.
At the moment, the answer was unequivocally yes.
Never taking his eyes off her, he shrugged out of his black evening coat and dropped it to the floor. He yanked on his bowtie, unfastened his vest. Collar and cuff links were next before he removed his dress shoes. In just suspenders, shirt and trousers, he stalked toward her, hair askew from her hands and lips swollen from their kisses. “Lie back.”
Was this it? Was he going to prepare her, then mount her? Nellie had assured Maddie she would enjoy it, and she knew Harrison would never knowingly hurt her. Unsure, she reclined and forced her limbs to relax.
Instead of climbing onto the divan, Harrison knelt on the floor by her legs. He lifted her foot, unlaced her shoe and removed it. Then he did the same with the other boot, leaving her in stockinged feet. Slipping his hands under her backside, he jerked her to the edge of the divan, putting her at a slight angle. “Open your legs.”
This was unexpected. “Why?”
“Like I said, I can’t wait to taste you.”
Maybe you’ll get really lucky and he’ll lick between your legs.
Was this what Nellie had meant?
Biting her lip, Maddie fought a wave of self-consciousness and parted her thighs. Air washed over the hot skin, and he stared down at the bare flesh exposed by the slit in her drawers as if fascinated by it, his face alarmingly close to her quim. Just as she started to grow nervous, he bent his head and his warm breath ghosted over her, then his tongue touched her center. “Oh,” she said, the intimacy and pleasure of it shocking her.
Bolder, he pressed kisses to her flesh as he explored, nuzzling and caressing her, before he dragged the flat of his tongue through her folds, licking every bit of her. She trembled, her lids falling closed, and he moaned, the long rumble vibrating against her skin. “Christ. I have died and gone to heaven.”
It felt like the other way around, as if eternal bliss resided in that swollen, wet place and he’d unlocked it. With a few swipes of his tongue, he’d caused her entire body to shiver in ecstasy. What would happen if he continued? Would she combust?
He laved at her, tasting the wetness gathered at her entrance, then working his way to the tiny bundle of nerves atop her sex. Lust rolled over her in waves, building, doubling and tripling, until she was panting, her head thrashing on the divan. It was both too much and not enough. Then he sucked the bud into his mouth, nursing and flicking it with his tongue, and her body drew as tight as a wire, her blood thrumming with indescribable sensation.
Her nails clawed at the fabric, muscles clenching as he pushed her higher, his mouth unrelenting, giving and giving until the crest was upon her. The climax ripped through her lower half, her mouth hanging open as a long moan escaped her throat. It went on and on, an explosion of white sparks that popped and shimmered under her skin.
When she finally came down the other side, he eased up, still gently licking as if savoring her. His eyes traveled the length of her body, until he met her gaze, his blue depths bright with lust. “Did you like that?” he murmured.
She nodded, unsure she could form words just yet.
“Good. Then let me do it again.”