Page 25 of His Wicked Embrace
“No, certainly not. But I’d just be getting started. I’d then press you against the wall, hike up your skirts, and use my fingers to make you come apart.” His voice was husky and low, a delicious dangerous edge to it that made hershiver.
“Is that all?” She was imagining his fantasies as her own, wishing desperately that part of him would abandon his noble behavior and act upon hiswords.
“Then, when you were weak and sated, my hands clenching your soft buttocks and my mouth on your neck, nibbling and sucking until neither of us could walk, I’d push into you, take you hard against the wall, and make you seestars.”
His fingers were still around her wrist. As he was talking, he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. A sharp pang of sensual pain burned low in her belly and between her thighs. She wanted him to do that, wanted it so much, but she was afraid it would make her appear wanton andunladylike.
“I…” She struggled for words. He had certainly said everything she’d wished to hear and more. Then with a coy smile, she reached up with her free hand and gently patted him once on the cheek. “Slap.”
For a second he stared at her in shock and then broke into a grin, as though he understood she was teasing himback.
He released her hand. “You need not worry. I am in control.” He cleared his throat and then glanced toward his bed. “You should be sleeping. After all that has happened, I think you still need rest.” He motioned for her to follow him to the door. “Let me take you to your chambers. The maids should have it ready foryou.”
Was he pushing her away? Had he misunderstood her slap as a warning and not an invitation? She thought he had known she was desirous of his advances. Perhaps he didn’t want her as much as she wanted him. He could say pretty words in scandalous ways, but perhaps it was a game and he didn’t truly mean any of it. The thought weighed down on her. All she wanted now was Lawrence. He was her only chance for some small measure of happiness before she was put on a ship and sent to an uncertainfuture.
He escorted her to a lovely bedroom down the hall with blue satin walls and a dainty walnut wood bed with white silk sheets. Clearly it was a room meant for a woman. She couldn’t help but wonder how many others had been here before her. A man with his face and his body would never sleepalone.
So why does he not want me?All she had left to give him was herself, and he didn’t want her.Perhaps he does not want to take advantage of me after all that has happened?She couldn’t throw herself at him, it wasn’t right, but she’d hoped he’d understood she wanted him to take her, to show her pleasure…but she was afraid to ask him. Whatever occurred between them, she wanted it to be born out of mutual longing, not a sense ofobligation.
“I’ll summon the maid to help you prepare for bed.” Lawrence lingered in the doorway, head bowed slightly as though suddenly bashful. “The weather will likely be fair tomorrow during our picnic. We could stay at an inn if we don’t wish to return to the city bynightfall.”
“What is a picnic?” she asked, not certain what the word meant. When he’d mentioned it before she hadn’t thought to ask him aboutit.
A smile flitted around the edges of his lips. “We lie on blankets in the shade at the top of some grand hill and feed each other food.” He gripped the doorjamb, his cheeks turning a color of red similar to his hair. “If you don’t think you’d like that, we could remain hereand—”
“No!” She rushed to stop him. “I think that sounds lovely.” Hope rose up in her again. This picnic sounded romantic, and romance was what shewanted.
“Good.” Lawrence still seemed somewhat bashful, but more confident now. “Get some rest tonight. We will leave for Richmond right afterbreakfast.”
After he closed the door, she sank into a chair by her fireplace. She had appreciated solitude before now, but ever since she’d woken that night, the screams and blood and the palace on fire, she couldn’t stand to be alone for long. Zehra stood up and crossed to the doorway, only to step back in surprise as a cheery young maid steppedin.
“Evening, miss. The master said you are ready for bed? My name is Eva.” Her sunny smile made Zehra feel instantly athome.
“Yes, thank you, Eva.” She turned her back to the maid, who unbuttoned Zehra’s gown and helped her step out of it. Then she removed the stays and the rest of her underclothes while the maid retrieved one of the expensive nightgowns Lawrence hadbought.
“Such a fine bit of cloth,” Eva said as her fingers touched the nightgown. She blushed when she saw Zehra watching her. “Sorry,miss.”
Zehra didn’t want the maid to be shy—she wanted every friend she could get. “He has exquisite taste, does he not?” Zehra said as she too stroked the delicatecloth.
“Indeed,” said Eva. “He has good taste in most everything.” The maid giggled as she glanced at Zehra and then blushed furiously. “Pardon me, miss. I didn’t mean toimply—”
Zehra laughed with her. “It’s fine. Tell me, Eva, does Mr. Russell bring many women here?” She knew it was a risk to ask such a question, but she needed to know more about him. In truth, she had to know if she was but one among many who had fallen for his sweetness and charm.Am I foolingmyself?
“He’s brought a few ladies, mistresses of course, but not lately. They usually stay in his chambers until just after dawn andleave.”
“But this room… It is so very feminine. I thought perhaps he kept his mistresseshere.”
Eva lifted the nightgown so Zehra could drop it down over her head and slide her arms through the sleeves. The soft fabric whispered over her skin as it drifted down herbody.
“This room? This room is used by the master’s mother or sister when they come tovisit.”
Relief flooded through her at hearing that this room was not for Lawrence’s mistresses. Yet at the same time, she didn’t like the idea that he was putting her away from him when she’d told him she wished to be with him. “And what are they like? His mother andsister?”
Eva chuckled and motioned for Zehra to sit in the chair by the gilded vanity table. The maid deftly removed the pins from Zehra’s coiffure. Zehra’s dark locks fell down over her shoulders and back in soft naturalwaves.
“The master’s mother is quite alady.”
“How so?” Zehraasked.
