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Forever Yours (The Forever Series #1) Page 19
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“What?” she asked.
“You’ll never give me a painting, will you?”
“I might.”
“Liar.”
She gazed into his eyes, digging deep, searching for emotions she would never find. She ruffled his hair as if he were a boy needing his mother.
“What is it, Price?” she said. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“It’s my father—as usual.” The man was always a valid excuse.
“Is he still pressuring you to wed?”
“Unbearably.”
“He treats you as if you’re a baby, and the disgusting part is that you permit it.”
“He and I can’t seem to interact in any other fashion.”
“I hate that you’re so forlorn. Let me take you away from him. Let me take you away from here.”
“Away? To where?”
“Anywhere you want, but it has to be far away. How about Italy or Spain? We’ll locate a little village on the ocean, and we’ll rent a cottage on the beach. I’ll paint, and you can loaf and drink wine under the palm trees.”
“I couldn’t do that.”
“Why couldn’t you? What is there for you in England? You’re always so miserable.”
He stared at her, thinking how pretty she was, how devoted. He was quite sure she loved him, and he suspected he loved her too. Well, he loved her as much as he could love anyone. He’d never been capable of strong sentiment. It wasn’t in his nature, but he was so bloody fond of her. In the future, he would be comforted by the notion. He’d been so fond.
She was excited about their sneaking away together, as if she’d been planning the adventure for ages and could envision exactly how it would transpire. He hated to disappoint her.
“Maybe we could run off,” he ultimately murmured. “Maybe we could.”
She clasped his hand and squeezed it. “Your father doesn’t deserve to have you as his heir, and he’s so cruel. We’ll simply tell him to stuff it, and we’ll leave.”
He bit down a laugh. While he liked to complain about his father, the man was merely acting as any father would. Price was an awful son and a definite trial. He gambled and fornicated with doxies and never behaved honorably. They were all lucky he didn’t have a hundred bastards trailing in his wake, but he’d never sired any children.
His father tried very hard to make Price be the man he was destined to be. The problem was that Price had few traits that would lead him to success in the role. Yet the dye was cast, and he would eventually be earl. He had to come to terms with the prospect, had to begin conducting himself as was appropriate to his station.
But it was humorous to presume he could shuck off that heavy burden, that he could traipse off with her and live like a bohemian with no past and no ancestry. He often felt sorry for her and her low spot in the world, but occasionally he thought she was incredibly fortunate to have no obligations to shackle her.
He nodded, warming to the idea. “We should do it. I’d like to very much.”
“I have my trust fund so I could pay our expenses, and mostly I could support us. I could sell my paintings too, once we’re settled. Or you could sell them for me and claim you’re the artist. We’d receive more money for them that way.”
“You’ve figured it all out,” he murmured.
“Yes, and please don’t tease me about it. I’m positive we’d get on brilliantly.”
“I would never tease you.”
“Can’t you picture how grand it would be?”
“I can absolutely picture it.”
He drew her near and kissed her with all the affection he could muster.
She was too kind to him, and he wished he was the man she imagined him to be. This one night at least, he would pretend to be that reliable, steady fellow. Later on, she’d realize she’d been duped. Later on, she’d have to accept that her entire opinion of him had been skewed by her misplaced fondness. For now, he would let her dream impossible dreams.
She stood and pulled him to his feet.
“Come with me into the bedchamber,” she said, surprising him.
“Oh, Faith, we shouldn’t.”
“Of course we should, Price. Pledge yourself to me. Bind yourself for once so I can be certain you’re serious. I’ll know you want this as much as I do.”
He breathed out a weighty breath. He’d intended to insist it was insane, but she was heading in the perfect direction. Like a puppet on a string, he followed after her, not inclined to halt.
He was randy and dissolute, and she was gorgeous and alluring, and she tempted him beyond measure. A potent sexual current had constantly been present. He wouldn’t deny or ignore it. Not when she finally seemed prepared to give him what he’d been dying to have.
He was already rationalizing his behavior. She was keen for it to happen. She was begging him to indulge her. She was an adult who could make her own choices. He was a scapegrace and treacherous scoundrel, and she was aware of his failings.
Was it his fault she was eager for a horrid conclusion? Was it his job to dissuade her? He didn’t think so.
She walked over to the bed, and she smiled at him, looking shy, but resolved too.
He smiled as well. “I’ve always thought you were too good for me.”
“I am too good for you, but I’ve decided to take pity on you and let you have me for your own.”
“I’m lucky then.”
“I don’t know what to do though. You’ll have to show me.”
“We’ll lie down for a bit. It will be easier if we’re comfortable.”
He was desperate to see her without her clothes, but in light of his wicked plans for the future he didn’t suppose he should strip her and push her into nudity she would later view as hideous.
He tumbled onto the mattress and brought her with him. They rolled onto their sides so his body was pressed to hers all the way down. They were nose to nose, grinning like halfwits.
“I don’t ever want you to regret this,” he said.
“I never will.”
“I’m not much of a catch.”
“I disagree. You’re the greatest catch I could have made.”
“Just don’t ever be upset and wishing we hadn’t proceeded.”
“Stop fretting, will you? We’ll flit off to the Continent, and we’ll live happily ever after. What is there to worry about?”
“Nothing, my darling, Faith. Nothing at all.”
He shifted her onto her back, and he came over her. He began kissing her, but they were so attuned to one another that they were instantly pitched beyond an innocent embrace. They’d delayed too long, had desired each other too long.
His hands were everywhere, caressing the spots he’d never seen. Gradually, he was unbuttoning her gown, tugging down the sleeves. She’d left her corset at home so her pretty bosom was swiftly bared.
He broke off to nibble a trail to her chest so he could suck a pert nipple into his mouth. He’d dreamed of this very moment so avidly that it didn’t seem real, and he couldn’t quite accept that she’d finally mustered the courage to forge ahead.
“You’re so beautiful, Faith,” he told her. “As beautiful as I imagined you’d be.”
“Don’t talk,” she bluntly said. “Don’t flatter or chat. Hurry up. I’m so nervous.”
“Don’t be nervous, and we needn’t rush. Trust me. The journey is much more fun than the ending.”
But with her giving him permission, he was too excited to take it slow.
He started toying with her breasts, nursing at them as his crafty fingers raised the hem of her skirt. He dipped into her drawers and had scarcely touched her when she was goaded into a stunning orgasm. He preened with delight, disgusted with himself, but terribly thrilled too.
“You’re much too old to still be a virgin,” he said.
“Hopefully, I won’t be one once you’re through with me.”
“Are you sure about
this? If we go a step further, I won’t be able to control myself so this is the last time I’ll ask.”
“Maybe I’m sure. If you’d get on with it, we wouldn’t have to debate.”
“You’re a very sexual creature.”
“I have no idea if I am. If I’m not, you can change me into one. I’m determined to please you.”
“You please me, Faith. So much.”
He kissed her again, distracting her, driving her up the spiral of passion. All the while, he was busy, yanking off her drawers and fussing with his trousers. He opened the flap at the front, then jerked them down around his haunches. He widened her thighs, his torso dropping between them.
“Has anyone explained what’s about to happen?” he asked.
“Yes, I’ve had it explained to me.”
“It might hurt a little.”
“Well, only if you don’t know what you’re doing.” She scowled. “Tell me you know. Don’t let me realize I’ve fantasized all these years for nothing.”
“I know what I’m doing. Relax.”
“I can’t relax. I told you I was nervous. Cease your dithering. It’s annoying, and it’s exacerbating my anxiety.”
“Don’t be anxious.”
“I won’t be—if you’d get moving.”
How could he refuse to oblige her? He wanted her to be happy.
Down below, his cock was positioned precisely where it needed to be. He was pressing it into her, and she was so wet, so welcoming. With hardly any effort, he slipped inside her and was fully impaled.
For a moment, she frowned and stiffened, but he held himself very still until her tension waned.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“It wasn’t as romantic as I thought it would be.”
He snorted with amusement. “We’re not finished.”
“Oh.”
“There’s more to it.”
“I’m glad.”
“You’re mine now,” he said.
“I’ve always been yours, you thick oaf.”
“There’s no going back.”
“No, no going back.”
He flexed, pushing into her, pulling out all the way, pushing in. Because she’d been a virgin and because he’d lusted after her so intently, he’d expected to spill himself immediately like a callow boy. But he’d never be with her like this in the future. Actually, after he left Wallace Downs in the morning, he doubted he’d ever see her again.
So…he dawdled and played, pleasuring her, pleasuring himself. He kept on and on, trying to catalog every detail so he’d never forget.
He brought her to the peak, and she soared to the heavens, then tumbled down and landed safely in his arms. Then he plunged in very far and shot his seed directly into her womb. He didn’t have to be careful. He was aware—from lucky experience—that he wouldn’t sire a child.
He rocked them to the end, and after the last drop was spent he collapsed onto her. She held him tight, her soft hands caressing him. Eventually, he slid away from her and onto his side. She rolled too so they were nose to nose again.
“What do you think now?” he inquired.
“It was wonderful.”
“Was it romantic enough for you?”
She smirked. “It was romantic enough.”
“After you get the hang of it, you’ll enjoy it more.”
“I enjoyed it this time.”
They sighed, and he flopped onto his back and drew her over him so she was draped over his body. The interval was splendid, better even than the sex.
“You’ll have to marry me,” she said. “We’ll both have to bite the bullet.”
He chuckled. “What happened to the woman who vowed to never marry?”
“I met you, and you changed my mind. When and how will we accomplish it?”
“We should probably flee England first so my father can’t stop me. If he found out about our plans, there wouldn’t be a vicar in the kingdom who would dare to cross him.”
“That’s a good idea. Can’t a ship’s captain perform the ceremony?”
“I hadn’t thought of that. We’ll do it on the ship. It’s the perfect solution.”
He stared at the ceiling, amazed at how easily the lies flowed out of his mouth. But then, hadn’t he always been a liar? Hadn’t he always been unreliable and dishonest? He was much more treacherous than he’d recognized though.
Before he was through with her, he would add new meaning to the word deceitful, to the word perfidious.
“We didn’t even bother to remove our clothes,” she said.
“I was too eager to finally have you.”
“I’ve been fretting about it since you went to town. I knew I’d misbehave with you once you returned, but I was terrified over how embarrassed I’d be if I were naked. You didn’t even try to take them off.”
“I didn’t take mine off either.”
“No, and I’m dying to see your chest.”
“Hussy,” he murmured.
“Bounder.”
“We’ll take them all off next time,” he claimed, “so you can discover how comfortable it is.”
She grinned. “I’m happy.”
“I’m happy too, happier than I’ve ever been.”
They were quiet for an eternity and ultimately she asked, “Would you like it to be Italy or Spain? Which spot tickles your fancy?”
“I’d like it to be Spain.”
“Spain sounds marvelous. When can we go?”
“I’ll have to head to London for a few days to wrap up some business, then I’ll come back, and we’ll sneak off.”
“I’ll pack a bag so I can depart immediately. Simply show up and tell me you’re ready.”
“I like a woman who’s prepared.”
She yawned. “You’ve worn me out.”
“I’m about to doze off too, but I’d like to do it again in awhile. Unless you’re too sore?”
“I’m not sore at all.”
“I’m delighted to hear it.”
“I’m tired though. If I fall asleep, you have to promise to wake me. I have to tiptoe out in the dark. I can’t be caught in the halls after the servants are up and stoking the fires.”
“I’ll wake you. Don’t worry.”
He pulled a blanket over them, and he snuggled with her, again committing each detail to memory.
When he roused, it was full morning, the sun high in the sky. A footman was in the dressing room, having brought hot water so Price could shave. He’d been dead to the world and hadn’t noted the man entering. He glanced over, relieved to see that Faith had managed to creep out on her own. He’d been no help on that score and wondered when she’d left.
He was glad to find her gone. It meant there would be no messy, tearful goodbye. There’d been no need to mislead her further.
He tossed off the covers and sat up, figuring he’d write her a letter to explain. It was the coward’s route, and he didn’t suppose she’d be interested in his excuses, but he wanted her to remember that he’d loved her in his own way. The prior night had been the best, and he wouldn’t have traded it for anything.
But his future was calling, his real life was calling, and it didn’t include her.
He’d have a quick breakfast, then he’d ride to London as fast as he could. There was a meeting with the family’s lawyer so Price and his father could sign the marriage contracts. Then he was having supper with his betrothed, Princess Sasha.
Though he’d have liked to tarry at Wallace Downs, he couldn’t. In fact, he never would again.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Hello, Britannia.”
“Alex.”
As Alex realized his mother had arrived, he tamped down a grimace of distaste and went over to her carriage. They were outside the manor, and he’d been exiting the house when the heavy vehicle had lumbered up the drive.
He wasn’t keen to chat. His sister, Winifred, visited
her occasionally, but he and his brother, Nathaniel, never did. She seemed on the verge of derangement, and any contact only reinforced how unpleasant their childhood had been.
She’d spent most of those years locked in her bedchamber and declining to emerge lest she stumble on Faith’s mother. It had been a horrendous fiasco that was still reverberating through all their lives.
She was forty-seven, but she looked a hundred. Her face was lined, her hair gray and thinning, and she was slender as a rail, as if misery was eating away at her. He felt sorry for her, but at the same time, he didn’t feel sorry. He’d have thought—once her husband perished—she’d have been ecstatic, but she refused to be happy.
He suspected she sat out on the road, watching the property. She always knew exactly when Camilla left, and she would roll in shortly after. Or perhaps she had allies in residence who sent messages to apprise her when it was safe to call on him.
It was entirely possible that servants were spying for her. After all, Wallace Downs had been hers from when she was a young bride of sixteen. She viewed it as her home, and she was simply waiting for him to split with Camilla, then she expected to be invited back.
That would never happen—as he’d constantly explained. He wished she would try to be content with her lot, but she carted around her sense of affront as if it were a prized package. He predicted—should she die and go to Heaven—she’d protest the conditions.
He understood what his father had been like and how difficult it must have been to be his wife. The man had created a ridiculously vile situation, but his father had refused to listen to any chastisement, just as he’d refused to modify his behavior.
When Alex and his two siblings had been raised in such a ghastly environment, he was surprised any of them could function as adults. They certainly hadn’t had any role models to teach them how. It was the reason they’d begged to leave for school the first minute they were old enough and why they boarded and rarely returned for holidays.
“What can I do for you?” he asked her.
“I must speak with you about a private matter. May I come in?”
She gazed at the manor so longingly that he hated to disappoint her, but he shook his head. “I’m on my way out. What is it?”