His Forbidden Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch (Spicy Version) Book 7) (7 page)

“I can’t wait to read them all.” She clapped her hands to her heart as if she needed to trap the joy she felt right where it was.

Again, a hint of sadness was betrayed in the twist of Solomon’s mouth, the spark of his eyes. It wouldn’t do to dwell on how quickly things would come to an end between them. Right now, all Honoria wanted was to imagine that their life together would go on forever.

Solomon fetched the cookbook while she laid out the rest of the ingredients from the pantry. Once that was done, the two of them stood side-by-side, flipping through the pages to see what their possibilities for supper were.

“We could actually attempt bacon pies,” he said after they’d gone back and forth between a few recipes that called for few ingredients.

“Sounds delicious,” Honoria hummed.

“Let’s do it, then.”

Bacon pie turned out not to be as simple as Honoria expected, but every minute of the challenge of mixing out pastry dough, chopping vegetables and bacon, and whipping up a broth to fill the pies was pure bliss. After a lifetime of working at odds with her sisters, it was the easiest thing in the world to work with Solomon.

“Two cups of flour?” he asked as he measured.

“Two and a half,” she corrected.

He didn’t scold her, he didn’t blame her for being stupid, he just nodded and poured the correct amount of flour into the bowl.

As the afternoon and their work progressed, they didn’t chat much. Most of their topics of conversation revolved around what they were doing. There was something so freeing about that, about focusing on the moment without worrying about the past or the future. The only time that they sat still and just talked was when the pies were baking, but even then, they spoke of the kinds of decorations that the house needed, what they could buy in town, and what needed to be ordered.

It was the most pleasant afternoon Honoria had ever spent, and by the time they were sitting across the small kitchen table from each other, eating their pies with a small glass of wine each, Honoria found an appetite she never knew she had.

“Between you and me, I think this was the most delightful meal of my life,” she sighed happily, pushing her plate back when she was done.

“You know, I think you’re right.” Solomon echoed her gesture and her posture, stretching his arm over the back of his chair. He looked every bit the lion stretching in his lair after a satisfying meal. “I bet we enjoyed it far more than any of the guests at your sister’s fancy reception.”

“Undoubtedly,” Honoria laughed. “I imagine Vivian spent the rest of the party going around demanding that her guests talk about her and nothing but her.”

Solomon laughed and shook his head. “I’d like to deny that someone could be that vain, but I’ve observed too much of your sister.”

“I feel sorry for her, really,” Honoria went on. “The only reason she talks about herself is because she isn’t confident with any other topic.”

Solomon’s brow shot up. “That’s mighty generous of you, all things considered.”

Honoria sighed. “I don’t hate my sisters. It’s not their fault they’ve been indulged to the point where they don’t know how decent folk should act.”

Solomon shook his head. “Yep. Far, far too generous of you.” His smile warmed. “Where did you learn to be so kind-hearted?”

“From my mother,” she answered without even having to think about it. “She was the kindest soul you could imagine, and I made a promise to her that I would be honorable as well.”

The affection in Solomon’s expression not only made Honoria feel as though she’d said the right thing, it fired her blood, making her wonder what came next. The sun was already setting, and it would be night soon, her wedding night.

“We should clean up,” she said, rising and taking her plates to the sink. She could feel her cheeks burning with expectation. Would she have to ask Solomon to take her to bed or would it just naturally happen? Bonnie had explained many things, but not how it all got started.

“I still have one question,” Solomon said as he came to join her by the sink, drying dishes as she washed them.

“Oh?”

A wry grin spread across his face. “How did a woman who sounds as wonderful as your mother end up married to Rex Bonneville?”

Honoria laughed aloud at the question, impertinent though it was. “Papa wasn’t always the way he is now. Mama used to tell me that he was a dashing, bold figure in his younger days. Very romantic. She fell for him like a prince in a story.” Like she had fallen for Solomon. She swallowed the thought, turning her blushing face away from him, and went on. “Papa only really became cold and distant and argumentative after I came along and still wasn’t a son, or so I’m told. When Mama finally did produce a son but died in the process, little Rex with her, he closed off entirely.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Solomon finished drying the last plate and turned to rest his backside against the counter. “I suppose it’s true that no one is born disagreeable.”

“Except Vivian and Melinda,” Honoria tried to joke.

She wasn’t sure Solomon heard her. She wasn’t sure whether she’d heard herself. Solomon was studying her with a look that was equal parts puzzlement and temptation. She had so little experience with men, but instinct told her the flash of heat in his eyes was a prelude to exactly what she wanted.

“Solomon, I want to go to bed with you,” she blurted before she lost her nerve. Instantly, her hands and feet went numb and her face flared hot. She could hardly bear to watch him as his expression registered first shock, and then something warm and sweet that she couldn’t put a name to.

“Is that really what you want?” he asked.

She nodded, unable to form words.

Solomon smiled and pushed away from the counter to face her. “I wasn’t sure if you’d really thought it through when you said so before.” He took her shaking hands. “I’m happy to simply be your shelter and your friend until…” He let his words drift away, took a breath, and went on with, “I don’t want you to feel as though…intimacy is something you owe me.”

“Oh no,” she spoke up, bubbling with awkward excitement. “I…that is, I had hoped from the first, when I asked for your help, that you would care to share
all
of life’s experiences with me.”

His smile grew, but he still looked baffled.

“I’m not afraid,” she went on, feeling he wasn’t quite convinced. “Bonnie explained things to me, and it sounds delightful, actually.”

He laughed aloud. The sound sent shivers through her. “Well, if Bonnie explained things, I’m not so sure I can live up to them.”

Honoria blinked. “No?” Oh dear. Was she out of her depth again?

Solomon slid closer to her, letting go of her hands to slip his arms around her in an embrace. “But I’m willing to try.”

Relief flowed through her as he bent down to kiss her, his lips brushing, then enveloping hers. A moment later, that relief ignited into something just as taut as her anxiety, but infinitely more enjoyable. She let her strength give way to his, relaxing into his arms and arching her body into his.

He must have liked that simple show of acceptance. His kiss deepened, and she could feel the tension pulsing through him. She parted her lips to allow his tongue to explore, and was even bold enough to tease her way through the kiss with him. He lowered a hand to cup her backside, and the blissful new sensations scattered throughout her body began to center and ache in her core.

“This will be far more comfortable if we do it in bed instead of in the kitchen,” he whispered, notes of both humor and passion in his voice.

“Yes, of course,” she breathed. At the same time, she could hardly let go of him long enough to let him walk her out of the kitchen, down the hall, and up to his bedroom.

The sight of his large bed—decorated with a simple, faded quilt—had Honoria’s heart beating faster than she was sure was good for her. She checked herself to determine if any of her excitement was from fear. Perhaps the tiniest bit, but that fear flew away as soon as Solomon took her in his arms again for another kiss. Kissing him was pure heaven. His arms felt so right around her, and his mouth ravishing hers was beyond any joy she could have dreamed of.

“We have to take off our clothes,” she panted restlessly, feeling like a fool for speaking something so obvious aloud.

“Yes, we do,” Solomon answered with a patient smile. “Would you like me to undress you?”

The very idea sent shivers down Honoria’s spine. Was that what you were supposed to do? Did Solomon know his way around all of the buttons and hooks and fastenings of her clothes?

“Um, it might be faster if we undress ourselves,” she mumbled.

His smile grew even wider, and he nodded. “All right, if that’s what you want.”

Was it? Yes. She needed to be practical here. But as she stepped to the side and reached up to undo the hidden buttons down the front of her bodice, her eyes stayed glued to Solomon. He’d taken off his suit jacket hours ago, when they were cooking, but he’d left his vest on. He unbuttoned that now, peeling it off to reveal a crisp, white cotton shirt. Her seamstress’s eyes was impressed by how well-made the shirt was. Her woman’s eyes only wanted to drink in the sight of his firmly muscled torso and intriguing mahogany-brown skin as he pulled the shirt up over his head.

It struck her that she knew nothing about her new husband’s form. She’d seen plenty of the ranch hands who worked for her father with their shirts off, but Solomon’s body had always been a mystery wrapped in fine, gentleman’s clothes. She was surprised by the sight of his flat abdomen, his well-shaped, strong arms, and firm chest with just a sprinkling of hair. He turned around to set his shirt and vest aside, and a sharp bolt of fear that she would see old welts from his younger days as a slave gripped her. But his back was as smooth and well-muscled as any man’s. She breathed a sigh of relief.

That relief lasted until he undid the fastenings of his trousers and pushed them down over his hips. Honoria froze at the sight of his bare, powerful backside and thick thighs. She drank in the sight of him as he tugged his shoes off and stepped out of his pants. Every movement he made was like perfect, male poetry. It still didn’t prepare her for when he turned to face her.

Her body was already frozen, but now her heart stopped in her chest at the sight of his full glory. She’d only ever seen pictures of the male anatomy, and none of them did the real thing a lick of justice. Or maybe it was just Solomon. His staff hung somewhere between relaxed and majestic against the backdrop of narrow hips and other, mysterious parts of his body. It seemed to be increasing even as she stared at him…perhaps
because
she stared at him. A voice in her whispered that polite women should be startled or shrink from something so quintessentially masculine, but Honoria found herself wanting to touch and explore and learn.

“I thought the object here was that we
both
undress.”

Honoria didn’t realize that she was staring—or that she hadn’t even begun to remove her own clothes—until Solomon’s teasing comment caught her off-guard. “Oh, dear.” She dragged her eyes away from the sight of him and worked the buttons of her bodice with frantically shaking fingers.

It didn’t help when Solomon stepped closer to her, like a panther stalking his pray. Heavens, her eyes wanted to focus on one thing and one thing only. Her fingers were completely useless.

“Let me,” Solomon whispered as he came close. The heat and scent of him swirled around her.

Honoria could only let out a shaky breath and lower her arms. He reached up and finished with the buttons she had started to undo. With soft movements, he pushed her bodice back from her shoulders and set it on the chair behind her. To do so, he had to lean even closer to her, to the point where his body brushed against hers.

She sucked in a breath and lifted her hands to rest on his hips. The muscle, bone, and sinew that met her exploration brought the ache in her core to a fevered pitch. She tilted her head up, hoping to steal a kiss. Instead, he reached his arms around her to unhook the fastenings at the back of her skirt. His breathing had grown harder somehow, more ragged. She slid her hands around his hips to test whether the muscle of his backside was as powerful as she thought, and was rewarded by not only confirmation of the fact, but by those muscles flexing.

Solomon made a delicious, low sound in his throat. Her skirt sagged loose. He tried to push it down, but it caught on the layers of her underthings.

“Petticoat,” she whispered.

He nodded once, then sent his hands exploring in the folds of her skirt for the ties that would free her. As he did, she stroked her hands up over his hips and around to the front. He sucked in a breath of expectation. She wasn’t sure she dared to go any further, but the desire pumping through her was relentless.

At last, as he found and tugged the string of her petticoats, causing the whole mass of her skirts to sink heavily down her hips, she brought her hands around to explore him. They both gasped for breath as her hands closed around his thickening staff. It had somehow expanded in the last few minutes and now surged upward, standing tall. That was perfect, as far as she was concerned. It meant she could stroke him the way she wanted to, learning the new shape in all its intricacies. His tip had grown more flared as the rest of him stood stiff, the very top shining with hints of moisture.

“Honoria,” he sighed, the sound making her whole body quiver, as he pushed her skirts down.

This time they dropped easily to the floor. Without waiting, he lifted her right out of the puddle of fabric and shifted to lay her across his bed. The shift in gravity left her gasping and hungry for more.

He paused long enough to tug her shoes off, then joined her on the bed, positioning himself over top of her. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered. The rumble of desire in his voice did things to her that she was certain were scandalous.

“So are you,” she panted in return, reaching for him.

He caught one of her hands and brought it to his lips for a kiss, then bent down to bring that kiss to her lips. Being kissed standing up and fully clothed was delightful. Being kissed while lying on her back, wearing nothing but her underthings, the man above her wearing nothing at all, was an entirely different level of wonderful. She could feel the pull of instinct urging her to meld herself with him. More than anything, she wanted to spread her legs open and embrace Solomon with her full body.