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More than Passion Page 3
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She stopped and quirked a pretty smile at him. “You certainly don’t look as if you’re starving.”
“Oh, but I am,” he insisted. “Please have mercy on me, dear Becca?”
She laughed then, a sweet sound. “All right. You may purchase something.”
Geoffrey made a show of perusing the contents of the basket. He scratched his chin. “I don’t know. What I really want isn’t in this basket.”
“And what is that?” she asked innocently.
He looked at her then and felt the pull of her. He forced a smile of his own. “You. Won’t you share my meal?”
“I shouldn’t.”
“I’ll replace anything we eat.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “You have my word as a gentleman.”
She gazed up at him and he must have managed to play down his baser desires and only let one hunger show on his face, for she gave a small nod.
“All right. I’d like that very much.”
He relieved her of the basket and turned back to the trap. After locating a blanket from under the seat, he grasped her elbow and led her to the common.
The common was covered with thick green grass and dotted with several large shade trees. He chose a picnic spot at the edge of the common, away from the crowded main road, and handed the basket to Rebecca. With a flourish, he spread the blanket and laid it on the grass. He bowed gallantly to her, and bade her to sit. She smiled and knelt, tucking her feet beneath her.
He watched her as she removed her bonnet and grinned.
“What is it?” she asked as she ran her fingers over that glorious black hair.
“Why were you wearing that silly bonnet?”
She clicked her tongue. “To keep the sun off my face. I don’t want to get freckles.”
He blinked. She already had freckles, very appealing ones, dotting the bridge of her perfect little nose. He hid his smile and stretched out on the blanket.
They shared some of the hard cheese and she broke off a piece of bread for him. They ate in silence as Rebecca kept her eyes downcast. Even so, Geoffrey couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her hair was pulled back, a few curls escaping to brush her smooth cheeks. They appeared soft as silk. Her voice broke his trance.
“Would you like some more cheese?” she asked.
“No, thank you,” he answered. “What else do you have in there?”
When she reached into the basket and offered him an apple, he arched a brow at her. “Like Eve you would tempt me, Becca?”
Geoffrey took the apple from her hand, his fingers brushing hers. She gasped and he felt it like a caress. She chose a red, ripe strawberry for herself and she nibbled at it. He watched her mouth, her lips darkened by the succulent fruit, and lust swirled through him. He had to taste those lips.
“Becca?” he asked softly.
Rebecca turned in answer, her lips parted to respond. He bent his head to hers, brushing her lips with his own. This kiss was gentle but as delicious as the one they’d shared in the hallway. He pulled back and raked his fingers through his hair.
Geoffrey tried to slow his racing pulse. Her lips were so soft, so sweet. If he’d deepened the kiss, he wouldn’t have been able to stop.
He turned his attention to the square, watching the people come and go without much interest. After a few minutes passed, he regained his control. He stole a glance at Becca and was struck by her vulnerability once more.
“Becca ….”
She looked up at him, her eyes large and shiny with unshed tears. He chose to take another tact.
“Your hair is so beautiful, love.” He reached out to finger one thick curl near her temple. It felt incredible to him, as soft and silky as he’d imagined. He let one finger trail over her smooth ivory cheek, and she closed her eyes.
She licked her lips nervously and the action drew his eyes to her full lips. He felt as drawn to her as he had since that first night at the inn. He cupped her face in his hands, coming around to face her fully. His lips captured hers in a searing kiss. He thought to pull away, but Rebecca’s hands stole up to the nape of his neck, urging him to deepen the kiss. With a low growl, he obliged her.
She answered his questing tongue with her own, rubbing it gently. He ran his hands down her back, molding her sweet body to him. She whimpered softly and he dragged his mouth away from hers.
“Ah, Becca …” he groaned against her ear.
“Geoffrey,” she whispered.
Geoffrey took her hands from around his neck as he had that night in the hallway.
She gazed up at him. “Is something wrong?”
“Not here, love,” he answered, stroking her cheek again.
She looked about as if suddenly remembering where they were. “Oh! What must you think of me?”
“I think you’re a warm, giving, passionate girl. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m the one to blame.”
She shook her head, a frown on her lovely face. “No. I wanted you to kiss me.” She looked down again. “I still do.”
He breathed in sharply at that admission. He had to get her back to the safety of the inn, and quickly. He placed a chaste kiss on her brow and turned to gather up the blanket. Rebecca picked up the basket and stood, her head bowed. He escorted her to the trap, and they rode back to the inn in silence.
* * * *
Geoffrey wasn’t surprised Becca wouldn’t meet his gaze in the dining room that evening. He longed to apologize for his behavior on the common, but it was obvious she wanted nothing to do with him.
“Girl!” Thomas Kingsley bellowed.
As Geoffrey watched, Becca stiffened, then bowed her head and walked over to where her father sat with Peter Jenkins. He couldn’t hear what was said, but whatever it was obviously upset her. She nodded shakily, a frown creasing her brow, and returned to her duties in the dining room. What was her father up to? He thought about asking Jenkins but knew that the old man wouldn’t betray the confidence of a long-time friend. Geoffrey pushed away from the table and went up to his room.
That night, Geoffrey awoke with a start. He glanced about the room. What had awakened him? Then he heard it. Someone was rapping on his door, the sound soft yet insistent. He got up, pulled on his breeches, and was at the door just as the knocking came again. As he turned the knob, the door exploded inward, nearly knocking him off balance.
A small figure crashed into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his bare waist. In a flash, he recognized the supple curves pressed tightly against him. She shook in his arms and he could feel the wetness of tears on his chest.
“Becca?”
Chapter 4
Geoffrey closed the door. “What is it?” he whispered.
“Oh, Geoffrey,” she sobbed. “Please don’t let him do it. Please ….”
Now he was worried. And angry. Who was trying to hurt her? He’d kill him! He held her at arm’s length, checking her over from head to foot for any injuries. She hung her head, still crying, her hair hiding her face from him. A dark thought flitted through his mind. He tilted her chin to look into her eyes, almost afraid to put a voice to what he was thinking.
“Becca, did someone touch you?”
She seemed confused, then shook her head vigorously. “No, no. He can’t make me ….”
He hugged her to him and she began to keen softly.
He stroked her back, trying to calm her. “Shh, love. No one is going to hurt you. Shh ….”
After a few moments, her crying ceased. She sniffled and rubbed her cheek against his chest. He pulled back and brushed her tears off her cheeks.
“There.” He offered her a small smile. “That’s better. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
She nodded. “My father wants me to marry him. He wants me to marry Dr. Simon.”
Geoffrey shook his head, certain he’d heard wrong. He’d seen the man in town. He was older than her father.
“That can’t be. Perhaps—”
“It’s true,” she insisted. “He told me this evening
.”
She walked over to the window and pushed the drapery aside. “My father said Dr. Simon has agreed to marry me.”
“Agreed? What do you mean?”
She continued to stare out the window, standing perfectly still. The moon was full and flooded the room with silver light. She wore a nightgown of thin lawn and the light streaming through the window outlined her figure. His mouth went dry—she was exquisite. He caught a bit of what she was saying.
“… five thousand pounds.”
He shook his head. “What?”
“Dr. Simon will pay my father five thousand pounds to have me for a wife.”
Her last words were mere whispers. The full impact of what she said hit him then. He strode over to where she stood and turned her toward him.
She looked up at him. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
She dissolved into tears once more. He gathered her into his arms. He wanted to tell her what she wanted to hear, but he knew better. Kingsley could do anything he wanted with her and she had no choice but to go along with his decision.
He led her over to the chair and sat, pulling her down on his lap. She rested her head against his shoulder, her tears flowing freely. He held her there for a long while, whispering soothing words and stroking her back.
Finally, Becca looked up at him. “I don’t want to marry him. I don’t like the way he looks at me.”
“How does he look at you?”
She looked down, as if to hide from his gaze. “Like he wants to do things to me.”
Geoffrey swallowed his disgust of the image of the doctor’s bony hands on her flawless skin.
“Shh,” he soothed. “It’ll be all right. I won’t let him touch you.”
She relaxed and leaned against him, rubbing her cheek against his chest once more. He stroked her back for a while as he tried to think of a way to get her out of this mess.
Becca breathed in deeply and he felt as if he was being drawn into her lungs. What was she about?
“You smell heavenly,” she whispered.
When she ran the tip of her tongue over his skin, a shiver coursed through him. He breathed in sharply and looked down at her.
She met his gaze, her eyes dark. “You taste just as good.” She began trailing hot kisses on his skin.
He grasped the back of her head and urged her face up to his. He captured her lips with his own. How could desire flare so quickly? Her tongue eased into his mouth and he groaned. He quickly took control of the kiss, cupping her face in his hands.
Her hands were driving him to distraction. She ran her fingers slowly over his chest as he kissed her, trailing her fingertips down over his belly to pause at the waistband of his breeches. He held his breath. God, yes. He wouldn’t force her, but he wanted those nimble fingers on him. When she finally traced the outline of his manhood through the fabric, he grew harder.
“I want you, Becca,” he rasped. “Like I’ve never wanted any other woman.”
He grabbed her hand and brought it up behind his neck. Her other hand followed as she pressed herself against his chest. He kissed the smooth skin of her neck and a soft moan escaped her lips.
“Geoffrey ….” She breathed, leaning her head back.
He unfastened the tiny buttons on the front of her nightgown, kissing the smooth skin he revealed. His hand cupped one breast, his thumb brushing across the nipple. She gasped at the intimate contact.
He looked at her, his expression serious. “I don’t care who you’ve been with. I want you.”
Becca raised her head in confusion. “But I haven’t—” His mouth closed over her hardened nipple and she lost all thought. Pleasure blazed through her. She shifted in his lap, straddling that intriguing bulge in his breeches. His hands cupped her bottom, pressing her to him as he groaned. He cursed softly and stood, carrying her toward the bed.
She slid down the length of him to stand on unsteady legs. He ran his gaze over her face, his expression blatantly carnal. She’d caught men in the pub looking at her like that before, but the desire in Geoffrey’s eyes didn’t disgust her like those unwanted gazes. No. Her breath quickened at the look in his eyes. He gently tugged at and removed her nightgown and she shyly stood there as his gaze roamed from her toes to her breasts. Her skin flushed and her nipples tightened.
He finally settled on her face. “You are so beautiful,” he said huskily.
He scooped her up and laid her on the bed. She watched him, liking the way the moonlight made his skin glisten. He quickly removed his breeches and joined her, his body nearly crushing hers.
She gasped as his hair-roughened chest pressed against her breasts. He nibbled on her lips, his tongue thrusting in and out of her mouth. His mouth left hers to claim her breast again as her fingers tunneled through his hair, holding him tight. His hand slid down to the curls that shielded her womanhood. She opened her legs to him, instinctively needing his touch. He caressed the folds of her, finding a sensitive spot she hadn’t known she had.
“Oh, my!” She gasped.
Geoffrey knelt between her legs and she felt the tip of his arousal near the heat of her. He began to enter her, then froze.
She squeezed her eyes shut, moving against him to ease the burning he’d started. “Geoffrey, please ….”
With one smooth thrust, he entered her fully. She cried out, her eyes snapping open. The pain!
“Easy, love.” He captured her lips in a deep kiss. “I can’t keep still. God, you’re so ….” He moved inside of her and the pain was eclipsed by the shaft of pleasure the movement caused. “Hold on to me, Becca,” he ground out.
She clutched at him, scoring his back with her nails. He moved again, slowly at first. Soon, he was driving into her, harder and deeper. She tightened around him and her heart began to pound.
“Geoffrey?”
“It’s all right,” he said hoarsely. “I’ve got you.”
His words freed her. Waves of pleasure washed over her as she cried out his name. He moved a few more times, then shuddered, holding tight as she felt his release deep inside of her.
They lay there for a long time, his body on top of hers. Finally, he leaned up on his elbows and dropped a kiss on her brow.
She found her voice. “That was ….”
“Incredible?” he finished for her, an arrogant grin on his face.
“Yes. No wonder Emmy is always doing this.”
He laughed softly. “It isn’t always this way.”
She blinked at him. “It would be with you.”
His eyes flashed his satisfaction at that. He rolled off her onto his back, and she cuddled next to him.
She thought of something then, something he’d said earlier. “I’ve never been with a man before.”
“I know that now, love,” he answered, a smile in his voice.
“How?”
He opened his mouth, then brushed her hair away from her face as he looked down at her. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
She glanced up at him. “The pain wasn’t so terrible. I suppose I could grow accustomed to it.”
He laughed again, the sound coming from deep in his chest.
“What do you find so funny?” she asked.
“It only hurts the first time, Becca.”
Pity she wouldn’t ever be with a man again. That thought caused her throat to tighten. It was better this way. He would leave and she would go back to her life at the inn. But what about her father?
“What am I going to do?” she wondered aloud.
“I’ll speak to your father if you wish.”
“No, I couldn’t ask you to.”
“You didn’t. Let me speak to him.”
She chewed on her thumb. “All right. Will you tell him I can’t marry that awful man?”
“I’ll do my best.”
She relaxed and curled her fingers in the hairs on his chest. Soft and springy at the same time. His chest was strong and his belly flat. And his—
Geoffrey placed h
is hand on hers. “Don’t.”
“I like touching you,” she said, moving her fingers again. “Your body is so different.”
Geoffrey stiffened. “Different from whose?”
Her fingers moved again. “From mine.”
With a soft groan, he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. “If you keep touching me like that, I’ll want you again.”
Again. Would that be so terrible? One last time?
“Good.” She smiled.
“Becca,” he said in warning.
She propped herself up on her elbows, resting her chin on her hands. “You said that it only hurts the first time.”
He gave her a small smile, stroking her cheek. “But it’s too soon, love. You’re too tender.”
She was still quite sore, but it seemed so strange speaking of it. “Oh,” she whispered, turning red.
“Blushing?” He tilted her chin up. “After what we just shared?”
She returned his smile, shrugging her shoulders. His gaze wandered over her and she watched as his eyes darkened. She felt him harden against her belly.
“You’d better get back to your room,” he said.
She nodded, climbing off the bed to retrieve her nightgown. She put it on and buttoned it up as Geoffrey pulled on his breeches. She stood behind him as he peeked out into the hall.
He turned from the door, hugging her to him. “Good night, Becca,” he whispered against her hair.
“Good night, Geoffrey,” she answered, standing up on tiptoe to place a kiss on his lips.
He opened the door for her and urged her to hurry. She crept out into the hall and turned once, waving to him as she opened the door to her room.
She fell into bed but couldn’t seem to fall asleep. The memory of what Geoffrey did to her, what she’d begged him to do, still thrilled her. The memory of this night would be enough to sustain her through her lonely life at the inn. Geoffrey said he’d talk to her father, get him to listen to reason. She prayed her father would have the sense to listen. She wouldn’t marry Dr. Simon. She’d rather die than live with him. Imagining the doctor doing to her what Geoffrey had, she shuddered.