Page 49 of The Dove
“My God,” Daphne whispered, pity lacing her voice as she leaned over the bed and touched Olivia. “The poor thing will never get any rest if this goes on.”
She gazed helplessly up at him, and he shook his head, having no notion himself what to do about any of it. He was tempted to go against Olivia’s wishes and give her a swallow of the drug she craved … just enough to put her to sleep, to ease her torment. But she’d never forgive him if he did.
“I have an idea,” Daphne said suddenly, eyes widening.
She hiked up her skirts and braced one knee on the bed, climbing on beside his sister. Looking back up at him, she motioned for him to do the same.
“Come on,” she urged when he did not respond fast enough for her liking. “If we use our bodies to compress her on either side, it might calm the tremors … keep her still enough for her to rest.”
He wrinkled his brow at the bizarre idea, but, for lack of anything better to do, he complied. As he lay on his side, Daphne took Olivia’s shoulders and turned her so that she lay on her side, facing Adam. Then, she slid closer, until her body pressed against Olivia’s from behind. Then, reaching over the slender form between them, she took his arm and pulled him closer, until Olivia lay sandwiched between them. His arm was long enough to enclose them both, so he braced it at Daphne’s back, pulling them both tighter against him. Daphne’s arm rested at his waist, draped over Olivia and completing the link.
To his surprise, after a few minutes of shivering, Olivia began to calm, sighing and sinking into the warm cocoon of the two bodies boxing her in. Glancing at Daphne over her head, he raised his eyebrows.
“Well done,” he offered. “How did you know it would work?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Do you remember the fever I told you about … the one that almost killed me when I was a girl?”
He nodded, recalling the story of how her brother had helped nurse her back to health. Her brother would then grow up to be a cad.
“Well, Mother and … and my brother,” she stammered. “I remember them doing this to me when the fever melted away and the chills came. I could not stop shaking, and it frightened me. They got into bed and held me like this, and I felt safe … my body went still, and I slept for hours.”
Sleep. It sounded like a fine idea. He had not slept much the night before, the turmoil of the evening and all that had happened with Daphne weighing on his mind. With Olivia nestled beside him, Daphne in his hold, and Serena safe with Niall, he felt as if he might actually be able to sleep the entire night.
His eyelids grew heavy as he lay there watching her, raising the hand that rested at her back so that it cupped her face. Sighing, she closed her eyes and turned her head, nestling against his palm. It never ceased to amaze him how easily he could command her submission, make her lean into his touch when her mind ought to warn her to move away.
She fell asleep first, her eyelids drooping and then closing altogether, her breath slowing and deepening. Adam followed her, closing his eyes to the endearing sight of her in a deep sleep, her lips parted and her eyelids resting in perfect half-moon fans against her cheekbones.
When he opened his eyes again, hours had passed, and Niall was standing over them, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“What’s this, then?” he whispered, gesturing toward the two women sleeping beneath the stretch of his arm.
Adam rubbed at his bleary eyes and glanced around, finding himself engulfed by darkness. It must be quite early.
“Daphne’s idea,” he muttered. “It worked. Olivia slept through the night.”
Niall’s eyes widened in surprise, and he seemed torn between grudging respect for Daphne and the anger he’d held on to for as long as Adam had. He despised Daphne for the family she’d come from, but like Adam, he was going to have to learn that she was not like them. She had shown him that time and time again, and someday, Niall would have to see it for himself. He would have to accept that Daphne was his now, and he would not hear a word from anyone about letting her go.
“So, I s’pose ye’ve decided to keep her, then?” he accused, reading Adam’s thoughts so easily, it was uncanny.
“Aye,” he said, giving the butler a pointed look. One that reminded Niall how little he would appreciate any interference.
To his surprise, the man simply snorted, shaking his head. “Ye’re hopeless when it comes to her, ye know. Only person who doesn’t see that is you, Hart.”
Christ. Yet another person who thought him besotted. It was beginning to wear thin. The next person to make such a statement might find themselves on the other end of his fist.
“I’ll take her, now,” he added, pulling up an empty chair to the bedside. “You and yer lass go find your own bed.”
Grateful for the reprieve, and the chance to get Daphne in a bed without another person between them, he rolled off his side, then rounded to the other to retrieve Daphne. She made a little sound in the back of her throat, like a mewling kitten, when he lifted her in his arms, tucking her against his chest. Then, she sighed, nestling against him and burying her face in his shirt.
Trusting Niall to see to Olivia in his absence, he crossed to the door connecting the master suite to its neighbor and kicked it open, carrying her through. Maeve had been here, turning down the bedclothes and lighting a fire that had burned down to mere embers. He lay Daphne on top of the counterpane, taking a moment to quickly shovel coal into the hearth and bring the fire back to life. Then, he returned to her, stripping off his shirt as he approached the bed. He made quick work of his boots, then began trying to remove her clothing without waking her.
She whimpered in her sleep, writhing a bit when he began unbuttoning her gown, and he wondered if she dreamed of him tearing her clothes off, bending her to his will. God knew it was all he could think about. If not for the fact that she seemed exhausted, he might have awakened her to do as he pleased. He let her sleep instead, wanting her fully recovered before he took her again, his mind already filling with thoughts of all he wanted to do to her.
Maneuvering her beneath the bedclothes without a stitch of clothing on, he removed his breeches and followed her. His cock flared to life, pressing against the soft swell of her arse, and he flexed his hips, muffling a groan against the back of her shoulder. A few inches lower and a thrust of his hips, and he’d be inside her.
Still, he held back, simply drawing her tight into the shelter of his body and keeping her there. His hand rested on her flat belly, and he thought back to the night before, to the explosive moment he had neglected to pull from the warm haven of her cunt, choosing to spend his seed inside of her. He could not find it in himself to regret staking his claim … would regret it even less if she turned out to be pregnant with his child. It would be just one more thing binding her to him, ensuring she could never truly be free.
Tightening his grip on her, he was shocked to realize he actually wanted it to be true. He wanted a piece of him lodged inside of her, something she could not expel so easily. Perhaps then, she would be forced to accept her fate … to realize that he would keep her for as long as he wished, and if that turned out to be a very long time … well, it would be best for everyone involved.
