Page 42 of Tamed By a Passionate Lady
Chapter 15
Adaline slowly brushed her hair, staring at herself in the dressing table mirror, a pensive expression on her face. She only had a short amount of time alone before Mrs. Bolt would knock on the door, wheeling James into the bedroom in his night attire, ready to be put into bed for the night.
She smiled slightly. It had become their new routine, since he had suddenly decided to ask Dr. Brown whether he could move back into their chambers from the sick room. That had been two weeks ago. Two weeks, in which their newly defined relationship had changed yet again.
Sighing, she placed the brush back onto the dresser. Tillie had already come and gone, preparing her for the night; the maid had brushed her hair in her usual brisk, thorough manner. Adaline had no need to keep brushing it. She knew she only did it to keep her hands and thoughts busy, to quell the nerves that always sprang to life in her stomach at this time as she awaited him.
In the past, before the accident, she would always try to be in bed first, the covers drawn up high to her chin, before he came into the room. She knew how uncomfortable he had felt seeing her in her night attire and tried to make it easier for him. But now, it was different. Now, when he was wheeled into the room he wanted to see her, to admire her, before she scurried into bed.
Her face flushed a little, thinking about it. He had been trying to become more intimate with her on these nights. He wasn’t forceful about it in the least, but he often brushed his hand against her in bed, lingering on her shoulder or her arm. Before they picked up their books, or turned over in the bed to sleep, he would ask her for a goodnight kiss. Just a peck, his lips brushing against hers. He never tried to take it any further. But she had seen the burning look in his eyes as their lips met, and she would shudder with longing.
Sometimes, she would feel his eyes on her, as she lay with her back to him. She knew they were speculative, wondering why his wife was so bashful and shy with him. Sometimes, she yearned to turn around, to press herself against him, and let him begin what he so obviously wanted to do. She wanted to, as well. She wanted to so much. But something always stopped her from doing it.
Adaline gazed at herself in the mirror. It wasn’t as simple as that. Yes, it wouldn’t be hard to bridge that gap now, the gap that she had always longed to cross towards him. But the fear always kept her from doing it. The fear that once they began, he would stiffen and push her away, as he had in the past. That doing it would force the suppressed memories, buried deep in his mind, to re-surface, and he would remember that he had never loved her and did not want to be intimate with her.
She bit her lip, hard. Somehow, it would make it all the more awful if that were to happen now. Because now, he was treating her the way she had always yearned to be treated. He honestly thought that they had been in love, prior to the accident. And the thought of losing this precious connection was almost too much to bear.
Guilt assailed her, once again. She should just tell him how it was between them before the accident. She was being dishonest, by omission. He deserved to know that he had never loved her, what the truth of their relationship had been.
She shuddered. It would come out, eventually, in one way or another. His memory would return, or someone would tell him. Reuben knew, as did Isabel. It would only take one slip on either of their parts and he would know. And then he would despise her, for trying to pretend that it had ever been different.
She bit her lip harder. She would do it. But not tonight. She wanted to bask in his admiration for just a little bit longer.
There was a soft knock at the door. She took a deep breath.
“Come in,” she called.
The door opened and Mrs. Bolt was there, holding the wheelchair. James was sitting in it, of course, gazing at her expectantly as he always did. He had been changed into his white nightshirt; it hung just a little bit loose on him now, since the accident. He had lost a little bit of weight, but his arms were still as solid as they had always been. She saw their outline through the thin material of the shirt, and felt a warmth spread through her.
“Hello,” he said, in a low voice. His brown hair was slicked back with water, and his greenish blue eyes were bright.
She stood up so quickly that her head spun a bit.
“Hello,” she replied. “Thank you, Mrs. Bolt. I will take it from here.”
The housekeeper nodded, smiling slightly as her eyes swept over them both. Adaline felt her blush deepening. The woman had obviously noticed the change in her husband’s attitude towards her and approved. It was a little embarrassing.
“Good night,” said the housekeeper, the smile still firmly fixed on her face, closing the door firmly behind her.
They were alone.
She took a deep breath, gazing at him. His eyes swept over her, slowly, taking in her long white nightdress, her long, black hair coiled over one shoulder, her chest rising and falling with her rapidly increasing breath.
“Adaline,” he said quietly. “You take my breath away, as always.”
***
She didn’t reply. She felt her face burning deeper, as if on fire. She thought that if she reached up a hand to touch it, she would surely get scorched.
Without a word she walked towards him, taking the handles of the wheelchair, pushing him towards the bed.
When she was beside it, she wheeled him into position, putting on the brake. Then she walked around, so that she was facing him. He gazed up at her, his eyes still burning with that inner fire that was always there now.
“Ready?” she asked.
He nodded, grinning. He lifted his arms. She grabbed him, supporting him as he lifted himself up. With one swift movement, he was on the bed. She straightened slightly, intending to leave him, as she always did, and walk around to her side of the bed. But tonight, he pulled her down towards him, his arms intent on their purpose.
She gazed down at him questioningly. Without a word, he snaked a hand around her head, quickly bending it down towards his lips. And then, he was feverishly kissing her.
