Everleigh paced back and forth, each time she passed the fireplace glancing at the bronze and ormolu clock atop the carved cherry wood mantel.
Half past eleven. And Griffin still hadn’t arrived.
A cozy fire snapped and crackled cheerily in the hearth, and candles flickered on the bedside tables and in the wall sconces in readiness for their assignation.
She’d told him to come at eleven o’clock. She pleaded a headache and retired by nine in order to have a leisurely bath and bring her rioting nerves under control.
Now, pacing to and fro in her chamber, snow billowing from the sky as it had for the past twelve hours, she bit her lower lip.
Had she misread him?
Miscalculated?
Been too forward?
He’d said he desired her and had agreed to come to her chamber, so where was he?
A deep sigh escaped her, and after a final glance at the clock, she wandered to the window seat. A pristine, virginal blanket of snow at least a foot deep covered the grounds. At dinner, there’d been talk of sleigh rides tomorrow.
Drawing her knees to her chest, she rested her cheek on them.
What had she been thinking, making such an immoral suggestion? She’d probably shocked Griffin so badly he’d decided he didn’t want a woman of her ilk for his wife after all. What man would want someone with that kind of character flaw around a child?
A tear crept down her cheek.
Goose. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.
How she would face him tomorrow, she couldn’t imagine, and, in this snow, going home was dangerous. Likely impossible. She’d just have to hold her chin up and pretend she hadn’t been a brazen nincompoop.
After a final glance outside, she padded barefoot across the room and extinguished the candles in the sconces. She blew out the tapers on one of the nightstands too, then removed her robe.
Shivering despite the fire, she fluffed a pillow.
The knock was so faint, she wasn’t sure she’d heard it.
She paused, head cocked toward the door.
There it was again, the merest scraping.
She flew across the room, her hair billowing around her shoulders. Holding her breath, she cracked the door open.
Hair damp, and attired in only a shirt and pantaloons, Griffin stood there.
“Quickly, open up. I should hate to have to explain to Mrs. Schmidt what I’m doing fresh from my bath outside your chamber.”
Everleigh swung the door wide, and once he’d entered, glanced up and down the passageway, then closed it and turned the key in the lock.
“I didn’t think you were coming.”
“The chaps decided to ruminate about old times over multiple bottles of Sutcliffe’s brandy. It was no small feat nursing my single glass without them catching on. I finally escaped, using a need to look in on Sarah as an excuse.”
He gave her a sly wink. “I’m finding having a child has more advantages than I realized.”
Now nerves overwhelmed her. She didn’t know what to say or do.
Her uncertainty must’ve shown.
“Come here, darling.”
Griffin opened his arms wide, and she rushed into his embrace.
He alone made her feel safe.
“We don’t have to do this. I’d much rather my ring was on your finger before we do.” He kissed the top of her head.
She wasn’t sure she could ever let any man put a ring on her hand again.
“I need this, Griffin.”
She wrapped her arms around his solid waist and clung to him, trying to make him understand why it was so important.
“Frederick Chatterton despoiled me, and Arnold could never complete the act. Trust me, he tried many, many times, and took out his frustration with his fists and, at times, a cane. I’ve never known a man’s gentle touch, never experienced passion. I don’t know if I can.”
She tilted her head back and noticed his smooth-shaven jaw. He’d taken the time to shave too.
“But I think if I am capable, it must be with you. For you do something to me, Griffin. You make me hungry in a way I don’t understand.”
His eyes had gone flinty and his face granite hard.
“If those two sods weren’t already dead, I’d kill them,” he said.
“Let’s not let them ruin this. I only mentioned them to help you understand why I am the way I am. I trust you, but if I cannot do this, if I displease you in some way, then I have to believe I am flawed. That I really am frigid, and I was never meant to know physical gratification.”
He cupped her face, his expression so tender that tears welled in her eyes.
“You are not flawed, Everleigh. And you are most certainly not frigid. I am humbled at the trust you’ve put in me.”
With that, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the turned down bed. After laying her upon the sheets, he pulled his shirt over his head. His muscles rippled with the motion.
Unlike Frederick and Arnold, he possessed a virile man’s form. Broad, sculpted shoulders framed an impressive chest covered with black, curly hair. More muscled ridges grooved his abdomen before tapering to a narrow waist and hips. He didn’t remove his pantaloons before lying beside her.
At first, all he did was feather his fingers over her exposed skin. A gentle trailing across her collarbone, a wispy skimming along the inside of her arm. He took his time, speaking soft words of reassurance all the while.
She relaxed and grew accustomed to his touch, each whisper of skin to skin a heady aphrodisiac.
When he grazed his mouth across hers, she was ready for him. Eager to taste him again.
His onslaught against her senses never ceased, but neither did he rush her.
“We have all night, sweetheart.”
She wanted him. Now.
He drew the bodice of her nightgown downward until he exposed her breasts.
“So beautiful,” he breathed before kissing the taut tip of each.
She gasped and clasped his back, arching into him.
“Griffin.”
He chuckled as he nuzzled her neck and pulled her nightgown over her thighs.
“Most assuredly you are not frigid, darling.”
Another gasp turned to a groan as he expertly explored her most sensitive areas. She wriggled against his fingers, moaning.
He left her for a moment, and she opened her eyes in time to see him shuck his pantaloons. His manhood strained upward from a nest of thick, ebony curls.
She clutched the sheets, wanting to wrap her fingers around his length.
He returned to her and lifted her arms. Half drugged from passion, she was of little help to him as he undressed her. The next moment, he tossed her nightgown aside.
Everleigh scoured his body with her hungry gaze.
He was gorgeous, and he wanted her.
She touched his face.
“I am not afraid, and I don’t want you to withdraw. I want to experience it all with you.”
With a gravelly groan, he covered her from knees to chest and nudged her thighs apart.
She felt his length at the apex of her womanhood, and it was perfect. She spread her thighs wider and tilted her hips upward, craving him inside her.
Griffin gripped her buttocks, and, face taut as he strained for control, he gradually entered her. Eyes closed, the cords of his neck standing out, he held perfectly still, letting her become accustomed to his length.
Feeling a fullness but no pain this time, she shifted her hips and pleasure flickered. Another tilt brought an answering spark of bliss. A groan escaped her as she wrapped her legs around his, digging her heels into his thighs.
“That’s it, darling. Rock your hips. Feel me slide in and out of you.”
He thrust into her as she lifted her hips again.
Quicker and quicker she moved, the pleasure taking over.
Griffin held her tightly, expertly playing her body, sending her higher and higher onto a plane of pure sensation. He whispered hoarse words of encouragement and sex to her, and when she thought she couldn’t stand it another instant, when she thought she would splinter if she didn’t reach the mysterious pinnacle, he reached between them and touched her woman’s core.
She screamed as wave after wave of ecstasy burst over her, carrying her along on a tide of sensation. She was barely aware when he stiffened and shuddered against her.
What surely had to be a smile of utter satisfaction curving her mouth, Everleigh at last managed to force her eyes open.
Her gaze collided with Griffin’s passion-drowsy gaze.
He rested his head on one hand, his elbow on the pillow beside her. His other hand curved possessively over her ribs, and one deliciously hairy male leg rested between hers.
Never in her life had she felt so satiated, so relaxed. So wanton.
Never had anything felt so utterly right.
He lowered his head and kissed her shoulder, then gave it a little nip.
“You, my darling, are a tigress.”
She giggled and tried to see his back.
“Oh, Griffin, did I scratch you?’
“I prefer to think you left your mark on me.” He snatched her hand to his lips. “And not just physically. You’ve touched my heart too. Branded me for all time.”
She blinked away the fresh moisture pooling in her eyes.
“Thank you for this. For giving me a gift I never thought to have.”
“Shh, no tears and no regrets, sweetheart. It’s I who should be thanking you.”
Griffin pulled Everleigh into his embrace, her luminous head resting in the crook of his shoulder. He traced little circles on her lower back.
“Does this mean you’ll marry me?” he asked.
He’d fallen in love with her.
Probably had that moment in the drawing room when she’d lifted a frightened Sarah into her arms.
Everleigh stiffened, then sighed as she rolled onto her back and slung an elbow over her eyes.
“I said I’d think about it after we made love and I knew if I could enjoy the act.”
Disappointment, sharp and jagged, pierced him in the gut. He’d been so sure he’d broken through her defenses. That she’d agree to wed him now. He needed to overcome more than just fear of intimacy, it seemed.
“One step at a time then, sweet.” He caressed her shoulder. “What else are you afraid of?”
She lifted her head, her eyes more emerald than jade in the muted light. The thick cloud of her hair brushed his chest.
“How do you know there is something else?”
Her fair brows pulled together the tiniest bit.
She might be able to put on a bland façade other people couldn’t see through, but this remarkable woman’s eyes revealed much.
“I can see it in your eyes.”
Even now, the shutters that slammed shut when anyone—any man—
ventured too close fell into place.
She stared at his chin and spoke softly, haltingly.
“I fear . . . losing my independence. I shan’t ever subject myself to a man’s whims again. Ever. If I marry, my husband has complete control over me. My wealth becomes his. My body becomes his to do with what he will. My children, if there are any, are also his to do with what he wants. As a woman, I have no rights. None.”
What she said was true. A woman was at her husband’s mercy.
She sank onto the pillow, her back against him and whispered, “That’s what I’m afraid of, Griffin. I cannot endure that life again. I cannot.”
She curled into a ball, weeping softly.
He pulled her into his arms, his thighs tucked beneath her supple bottom and his chest pressed to her back. He swept her hair away from her neck and kissed the satiny flesh there.
“I would sign a settlement allowing you to retain all of your wealth, and I vow I would never lay a hand on you in anger. As for children, I think they need their mother, which is one reason I want to find a woman who can love Sarah as her own. I believe you are that woman, Everleigh.”
“You have more faith in me than I have in myself.”
After kissing her neck again, he rose.
“I’d love to stay with you all night, but I shan’t risk your reputation. Nor shall I rush you. Wounds such as yours take time to heal.”
After donning his clothing, he came around to the other side of the bed and knelt there.
She opened her eyes, the lashes dark and spikey from her tears.
He palmed her damp cheek.
“I’ve fallen in love with you, Everleigh Chatterton. I shall wait as long as it takes, do whatever I need to do to convince you of that. I’ll help you overcome your qualms. My love will heal your fears.”
She swallowed, then licked her lower lip.
“You are a good man, Griffin, kind and decent and generous, but I cannot make any promises. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. I need to take things one day at a time. I don’t have your confidence. I’m afraid to trust my feelings for you.”
“I know.” He tucked the bedclothes around her shoulders in much the same manner as he did Sarah. “But I trust your feelings, and I have confidence enough for the both of us.”
“Humble blighter, aren’t you?” She attempted a wobbly smile.
“Go for a sleigh ride with me tomorrow?” Brushing the hair from her face, he paused and ran his fingers through the length before fanning the strands across the pillow. “Sarah’s never been.”
“Unfair.” She hit him with a pillow. “How am I supposed to deny her that fun?”
She didn’t look quite so tormented.
He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Madam, you have no idea what I’m capable of when I set out to win a woman’s heart and hand. Erect your ramparts and battlements if you must, but I am confident my love will reduce your barriers to rubble.”