Page 47 of Unmasking the Silver Heiress
He made a little sound of pleasure, kissing his way around to her throat. "And what," he growled softly, "did you wish to do instead?"
The truth was that she would have been completely satisfied simply having him alone and to herself for a few waking minutes. However, it was clear what he was insinuating. The assumption he had drawn was a far preferable outcome to that stolen time than any polite conversation she might have envisioned.
So, rather than be strictly honest, she stroked her fingernails through his hair and said, "I think you know."
He exhaled sharply, lifting his head and taking her chin between his fingers. His eyes were colorless in the dark, just another shade of disguise for a chameleon. They maintained their grip on her, their intensity, with or without color.
With his other hand wrapped tightly around her waist, he nudged his hips forward, pressing his arousal into her thighs, and watching her face so that he might enjoy the moment when she realized what she was feeling.
Her breath caught in her throat, the flash of heat that whipped through her effectively silencing any verbal reaction she might have had.
"Look what you've done to me," he whispered, still holding her by the chin, his gaze drinking up her own.
"Truly?" she breathed back, unable to resist leaning closer, brushing her nose against his, the proximity of him adding a heady wave to her already dizzied state. "Me?"
"Mm," he confirmed. "I have not ever been so tempted, by any woman."
"Oh," she whispered, unable to resist kissing his beautiful mouth, just lightly, testing how he might react. When he did not pull away or move to stop her, she pressed her lips more fully into his, wrapping her arms around his neck.
He released her chin, instead winding his fingers through the curls cascading over her shoulder, his grip on her waist still tight. He allowed her to direct the intensity of the kiss, to decide when tongues might become involved and how deeply the intensity might dig.
She found that the more she kissed him, the more sheneededto kiss him. Warmth was pooling in her center, that throbbing hardness against her thigh sending a primal urgency through her.
A sudden bump in the road jostled them with an abrupt loss of their bearings, almost sending Nell toppling to the floor. If Nathaniel hadn't been holding her so tightly, she certainly would have. Strangely, the initial startle seemed to fade into laughter for them both, perhaps in a bit of sheepishness at their own distraction.
She caught her lip in her teeth and eased her suddenly claw-like grip on her husband's shoulders.
"Ah," he said with a chuckle. "Perhaps we ought to await a more stationary venue to continue this activity."
"Perhaps so." She sighed and released her hold on him, slipping out of his grip on her waist as she leaned backward onto the opposite cushion. "Pity."
"If the journey were longer, I would absolutely take my chances," he said with an air of mischief. "Why, at the right moment, such a motion might have been a welcome enhancement."
"Nathaniel!" she gasped, almost immediately dissolving into scandalized giggles. She leaned against the side of the coach, overtaken by such a jest until she was short of breath.
The entire while, Nathaniel was watching her with that same mysterious half smile he'd worn on their journey south from Scotland. Was he warmer now, or had she just become a bit more adept at finding the kindness in his face?
It hardly mattered. Just locking eyes with him in this way, silent and happy, sharing a moment of so many mixed feelings was lovely. Perhaps it was the wine. She'd had quite a bit of wine the last time they'd been intimate too. Maybe she would begin taking it with dinner if it had such a positive effect on her allure.
"Do you like your gown?" Nathaniel asked, eyes reflecting the light of the moon.
"Very much," she said earnestly. "I have never felt so beautiful."
He looked thoughtful, his hand propping up his chin as he leisurely appreciated the effect of her form in the red and white dress. "Your aunt is a wealthy woman," he said, after a moment. "Why did she leave you to wear those ill-fitting and unfashionable clothes?"
"Oh." Nell blinked, surprised. "I don't think she did any such thing on purpose. She simply never took much notice of me, and was already giving me so much. I would never complain about the things she had made for me. Aunt Zelda is a very busy woman."
"Shehad them made for you," he repeated, clearly surprised. "I assumed they had been the product of your parents' modest means. Eleanor, you must know she created them to hide your beauty as much as possible. Such a thing could only have been deliberate."
"Why on earth would she do something like that?" Nell laughed, shaking her head. "She loves me."
"Yes, she loves you," he agreed. "But she believed the best path for your life would be to remain unmarried so that she might prime you as her little heiress."
"Nathaniel, I have always been a girl to whom spinsterhood has seemed a realistic proposition," she said, a little more soberly. "I was never an adept flirt or an exceptional beauty, and I have been told many times that I'm far too esoteric for my own good. She hardly needed to do anything to assist with my lack of appeal."
"She chose clothes that would hide your delicious little figure, keeping your feminine curves encased in rectangles of drab fabric. It was absolutely deliberate. It was sabotage that she likely believed was for your own good, or for her own good at the very least."
Nell was too stunned to reply. What he was saying was heinous, but it did have a ring of truth to it. Aunt Zelda always got what she wanted and was often pulling several strings at a time to ensure her desired outcome. And she had always besmirched the institution of marriage as a waste of a woman's abilities and something she considered beneath both herself and Nell. She had often looked down her nose at her sister—Nell's mother—for marrying so low and having a large brood of children.
