“Checkmate.” Nicholas’s soft words destroyed her euphoria. Stunned, Victoria stared at the board in disbelief. How in the hell had he managed to outwit her? She’d used the same game strategy that had never failed to win her a game until now.
“An exceptional game, sweet witch.” Nicholas sat back in his chair a relaxed, yet slightly confused, expression on his handsome face.
“But I still lost,” she said, scowling at the board and then at him.
“Yes,” he said amusement. “Which means you’ll sit for two portraits with
no
arguments.”
“Fine,” she snapped. “And you don’t have to look so damned pleased with yourself.”
“If it’s any consolation, you had me concerned until your last five moves.”
In a small way, his words made her loss easier to bear. But she wasn’t happy about losing, especially when it came to the second portrait she’d agreed to sit for. The thought of being painted with nothing but a sheet wrapped around her was embarrassing, particularly when Nicholas had said it was for him.
“Where did you learn to play chess so well?” Nicholas studied her with curiosity as if he’d just realized something unexpected.
“My father.”
“Brentwood played chess?” The incredulous note in Nicholas’s voice made her close her eyes in frustration.
“No,” she emphasized quietly. “My father, Thomas Ashton.”
“Victoria—”
“Don’t. Just don’t,” she said with a resigned sigh. “I’m not going to argue with you about it again. Either you believe me or you don’t.”
Without waiting for a response she got up from her chair and walked towards the door. As she passed him, Nicholas’ caught her by the arm to stop her and stood up to face her. Hands clasped behind his back he eyed her with sympathy.
“Consider my position, Victoria. My wife vanishes for three weeks. When she returns, the cut and bruising on her head indicates she’s suffered a head injury. Not only that, but she insists she is not my wife, and that she’s from another time and place. What am I to make of all that? What would you believe?”
The moment he put the question to her, Victoria closed her eyes. Just what would she do in his place? As much as she wanted to think she would believe his story, she knew it would be difficult for her to do. A strong hand captured her chin, and she opened her eyes to meet his puzzled gaze.
“It will be all right, Victoria, but despite the miraculous changes in you, I cannot believe your story. It’s too incredible to believe. I think your mind has created a false reality to protect you from whatever happened to you while you were gone. Your headaches and fainting spells only reinforce my conviction.”
With a nod of understanding she pulled free of his grasp and walked away from him. As she reached the doorway of the salon, she turned her head toward him.
“I understand your skepticism, Nicholas, but ask yourself this. How could a woman who’s terrified of horses and can’t ride, skillfully ride one of your stallions? How did the same woman almost beat you at chess? How is it all the other things I’ve said and done has not made you realize I am who I say I am? Do you really think all of that can be attributed to a bump on the head?”
She met his green-eyed gaze for a moment then turned away and went up the stairs. Why was it so important to her that he believe she was from the future? The answer ringing in her head frightened her. Quickly, she blocked it out of her thoughts. She knew who she was, and she refused to forget it.
N
icholas stared at the empty doorway Victoria had passed through. With a quiet oath, he slammed his fist into the padded back of his chair. God help him, he wanted to believe her. Every time he turned around, Victoria was saying or doing something that would be impossible for Vickie to do. The riding he could have put down to sheer stubbornness on Vickie’s part, but tonight—their chess game had defied all logic. Vickie could no more tell a knight from a bishop to save her life, yet Victoria had come close to winning their game, and he rarely lost.
No, it was much easier to believe Victoria’s head injury was responsible for the remarkable changes in her behavior. If he stopped believing that, it meant he had to address a much darker possibility where his wife was concerned. With a low growl of frustration, Nicholas made his way up to his room. Roberts greeted him as he entered his bed chamber.
“I trust your evening was a pleasant one, my lord.”
“It was,” he nodded as he remembered how much he’d enjoyed supper with Victoria and his brother at the table. The game of chess afterward had been even more pleasant. No, it had been much more than pleasant. He’d experienced a quiet contentment in Victoria’s company. “More evenings like this would be quite pleasurable, Roberts.”
Roberts assisted in removing his coat then hung the garment in the wardrobe. When Nicholas was ready, the valet held up Nicholas’ robe. As he shrugged into the night coat, Roberts cleared his throat.
“May I presume to inquire whether you agree with my assessment with regard to Master Edmund and her ladyship, my lord?”
Roberts voice pierced Nicholas’s thoughts, and he turned his head to meet the older man’s curious gaze. With a slow nod of his head, Nicholas looked away. His gaze focused on the fire as he tightened the cloth belt around his waist.
“As always, Roberts, your judgment is impeccable. Seeing Victoria with Edmund today has changed my opinion. I no longer have any objection to my wife spending time with my brother.”
Nicholas closed his eyes for a brief second then moved to the chair in front of the fire. The book he’d been reading for the past few nights mocked him from its place on the table. He was certain reading would be much more difficult tonight than usual.
“Is there anything else I may get for you, my lord?”
“No, thank you, Roberts.”
“Good night then, my lord.”
“Good night,” he murmured as Roberts closed the door behind him.
Nicholas stretched his leg out toward the fire. The pain was moderate this evening, and he knew the warmth of the fire would be enough to soothe his leg. Quickly finding his place in his book, Nicholas forced himself to block out all thoughts of Victoria. More than an hour later, he closed the book with a vicious snap and dropped it carelessly onto the small, half-moon table next to his chair. Reading had barely begun to provide a brief respite. Thoughts of Victoria kept interrupting his ability to concentrate.
Bed. Surely, he’d find freedom from his thoughts of her in sleep. Nicholas was halfway to his bed when a soft knock echoed through his chamber. A second later, Victoria stepped through the door.
Instantly, his body tensed and hardened at the sight of her. Her robe clung to her curves, and he wondered if her nightgown was equally snug. On the heels of that thought came the memory that she seemed to prefer sleeping in the nude. Was the only thing against her skin that bloody robe? His mouth went dry at the thought. Nicholas cleared his throat, clasped his hands behind his back, and strove to control the rising tide of desire flooding his body. Concern quickly stemmed the tide as he saw how pale she was. Victoria met his gaze then bowed her head as if ashamed.
“I…I had another nightmare…they don’t normally bother me, but I was afraid to go back to sleep.” Color invaded her pale cheeks as she looked at him then averted her gaze once more. “Could I stay with you for a little while? I feel safe with you. It would just be for a little bit.”
“Of course,” he said softly.
The fear on her face made Nicholas quickly close the distance between them to take her hand. Shock rippled through him at how icy it was against his. Gently, he guided her to the fireside chair. When she was seated he stoked the flames in the hearth to raise the temperature in the room. Satisfied with the level of heat coming from the fire, Nicholas turned to face her and debated whether to ask her about the dream. He quickly dismissed the idea. She was clearly frightened, and he had no desire to exacerbate her fear. A lustrous lock of her beautiful auburn hair brushed her cheek, and she raised a trembling hand to tuck it behind her ear. The despondency on her face as she stared into the flames aroused a primal need to protect her from anything that might harm her or make her unhappy. The intensity of the feeling shocked him. A tear rolled down her cheek as she closed her eyes.
“I think I might be crazy after all,” she said in a raw, hoarse voice.
Nicholas uttered a soft oath under his breath and step forward to scoop her up out of the chair and into his arms. With her cradled against him, he sank down into the chair ignoring the twinge of pain in his leg. She didn’t make a sound as he bent his head to brush another tear off her cheek with his fingers.
“You’re not going insane, Victoria,” he muttered fiercely. “You’ve suffered a rather nasty blow to the head. You need to give it, and your mind, time to heal.”
She didn’t answer, but simply nestled her head against his shoulder. An odd sense of completeness sailed through him as he held her in his arms. There was no rhyme or reason for the emotions this woman aroused in him. She was definitely not the woman he’d married, and it was impossible not to feel the connection he had with her. It was as if they were bound together with invisible strands of thread that would never break no matter how far the distance between them. If he were a man who believed in destiny, he would say it was almost a spiritual connection. Victoria stirred against him and sat upright.
“I feel better now and should go,” she said softly. “You need—”
“Stay,” he rasped. Nicholas wasn’t sure which of them was surprised the most by his request. Sapphire eyes wide with astonishment, her breathing suddenly became rapid, and her lovely pink lips parted as if silently begging him to kiss her. His fingertips brushed against the small hollow of her throat.
“What strange magic are you weaving throughout my house, sweet witch?” he whispered. “Is there no one who hasn’t succumb to your charms?”
“Jamieson?” she laughed. The soft sound held an uneven rhythm of agitation to it, and he smiled.
“Oh, I think with a bit more effort my butler will be at your feet like the rest of the staff.”
“And you? Will you be at my feet too?” Mischief sparkled in her eyes, but it was the desire he saw shimmering in her gaze that hardened his cock. With a slow shake of his head, he leaned forward and kissed the base of her throat. He knew it was madness, but she was too intoxicating to his senses to resist tasting her.
“I think I shall make
you
submit to me, sweet witch,” he murmured as he nibbled at the spot where her shoulder met her neck. The small breath she inhaled sent his blood pounding through his body.
“And if I refuse?” The breathy challenge in her voice made him chuckle against the side of her neck as his teeth nipped at her skin. A moan slipped past her lips at his action, and it excited him. Nicholas inhaled the citrus scent of her. It was a fresh, tart scent that was headier than the finest cognac. His fingers traced the edge of her robe where the material met just above her breasts. He slowly parted the garment and sucked in a harsh breath of desire. He’d been right. She was naked beneath the garment. The shudder that rocked through her hammered its way into him. Slowly, his hand exposed one beautiful breast. He cupped her, and rubbed her stiff nipple with his thumb.
“Oh, God, Nicholas. Suck on me.” Her plea heated his blood even more.
Needing no further encouragement, he captured the tip of her in his mouth. A low, throaty moan poured out of her. The sound made his cock ache as it expanded and hardened even more.
Christ Almighty
, he wanted to thrust into her with hard strokes until he heard her cry out his name then shatter in his arms.
In a surprising move, she slipped out of his arms to kneel at his feet. Her robe was parted to the waist, and he stared at her full breasts. Eager to touch her again, he leaned forward and lightly rubbed his thumb over a rigid nipple. She trembled at his touch, and he experienced triumph at the desire he saw darkening her blue eyes. God, he loved how she responded to him. She came up on her knees and kissed him. Soft and teasing, her lips had the sweet flavor of honey.
One hand wrapped around the nape of her neck, his tongue swept into her mouth to taste more of her sweetness. Hard and fast, his tongue stroked and teased hers as his need for a more intimate act consumed him. She broke free of the kiss and pushed him back into his chair. A split second later, her mouth blazed a trail of heat across his chest. Nicholas’s head fell backward as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the pleasure of her touch. She tugged gently at his belt and pushed his robe wide open. A soft gasp floated upward, and he realized she’d seen his leg. His head jerked up to look down at her. To his amazement, she wasn’t looking at his leg, she was studying his cock.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispered almost reverently.
The unexpected complement astonished him, but it also sent a rush of pleasure barreling through him. Nick reached out to cup her cheek in his hand, but his fingertips barely brushed her skin before she lowered her head. A warm breeze caressed his erection just before her tongue swirled around the tip of him.