Julie Garwood (27 page)

Bradford lost his control completely then, allowing the passion to flow between them. Primal pleasure overwhelmed Caroline, pulling her into the sun. She clung to Bradford, instinctively trusting him to keep her safe, and welcomed the heat.

Bradford’s breathing was harsh. He was no longer gentle in his lovemaking; his strokes were powerful and the pleasure increased. When Caroline tensed beneath him and called his name in a frightened whisper, he knew she was about to find release from the sweet torment they shared.

She arched against him with such force, such intensity, that Bradford found his release, felt the tremors all the way into his soul. He thought to soothe her, tell her it was all right, but the tremor was so overwhelming that he could only hold her close.

It took several minutes for Bradford to slow his racing heart, calm his ragged breathing. He was so content, so incredibly satisfied. Still inside her, he
leaned up on his elbows and looked at Caroline. Her eyes held a sleepy, satisfied look. A violet-eyed kitten, Bradford decided with a grin. And she was his kitten.

Caroline tried to slow her pulse. She was so astounded by what had just happened to her. Her lips felt swollen from his kisses, and she still throbbed from the scorching pleasure Bradford had forced upon her. He hadn’t allowed her to retreat, or to give half measure, and when she thought about her eager response, she felt herself blush.

Bradford grinned when he saw the embarrassment and shyness in his wife’s expression. He kissed her lingeringly, smiling inside over her sudden timid response. Only minutes before she had been a wildcat in his arms. He could feel the sting from the grasp of her nails against his shoulders, remember the agonized pleas that he not stop when he thrust again and again inside her.

“Bradford, you are crushing me,” Caroline announced against the side of his mouth.

He sighed and reluctantly rolled onto his side. The separation didn’t last long, for Bradford immediately pulled Caroline into his arms, cradling her against him. He tenderly brushed a damp tendril off her forehead. “Did I hurt you, love?”

Caroline was nuzzling his neck, but she nodded in response to his question. Bradford tried to move her away enough to look into her eyes. “At first. The rest of it didn’t hurt at all,” she admitted. Her voice was a blur against his neck but Bradford heard the shyness in her tone.

“It?” he asked, his voice teasing. He relaxed his head against the top of hers and gave her an affectionate squeeze.

Caroline didn’t answer. She smiled with contentment and sighed. “Will you want to do this very often?” she asked with feigned innocence.

She felt the rumble in his chest seconds before the
sound of his laughter was released. And then she was suddenly trapped beneath him again and was staring into his brown eyes filled with golden chips.
“Very
often,” he growled.

Caroline smiled, immensely pleased with herself. Her eyes widened with astonishment then for she felt his arousal against her. “Bradford? Can we …”

“Absolutely.” His mouth claimed the rest of Caroline’s questions. She put her arms around him and held him close, loving the feel of his chest against her breasts, his hardness against her softness. A sudden thought interfered with the erotic feeling and she tugged her mouth away.

“Will it hurt again?” she asked, her voice anxious.

“Probably,” Bradford said. He leaned up, studied her face for a long moment, and then asked, “Will you mind?” He knew he would stop if she gave the least hint that she was too tender.

“Probably,” Caroline answered. Then she pulled his head down to hers and kissed away all caution. The probablies were soon forgotten.

After Bradford had fallen into a deep sleep, Caroline drifted in and out of her own dreams. She wasn’t used to sleeping with anyone and she accepted that as her excuse for the fitful tossing and turning. That, and the fact that she was feeling both tender and bruised.

The sun was just beginning its ritualistic climb into the sky when Caroline slipped out of bed and went into the adjoining room. She bathed from head to toe and put on a warm fleecy robe when she was done. The scent of roses clung to her body as she quietly made her way back to Bradford’s sleeping form. She was wide awake now and wondered how long her husband would continue to sleep. Her robe got tangled up in the sheets and she finally discarded it.

It was snowing outside, and Caroline watched the
light cascade of flakes for several minutes. She sat up, her arms wrapped around her knees, and thought about Benjamin, wondered how he was dealing with the cold on his journey back to Boston. She worried over his safety and said a prayer for him. And then she felt Bradford’s hand slowly moving up her back. She turned to look at him and smiled. “Did I wake you?” she whispered in apology. He looked intimidating to her because of the way he was watching her. She reached out with one hand to touch his face, felt the night’s growth of whiskers on his cheeks.

“What were you thinking about?” Bradford asked. He stretched and then clasped his hands behind his head with a big yawn.

The intimidation vanished with the lazy stretch and Caroline thought he looked rather like a huge bear. “I was thinking about Benjamin,” she answered. “He must be freezing his coat off about now.”

“Among other things,” Bradford returned. “He wanted to leave, and he was needed back in Boston, love. His job was done here.”

“And how do you know that?” Caroline asked.

“I had a long talk with your protector before he left,” Bradford told her.

Caroline smiled over his comment that Benjamin was her protector. “We protected each other,” she said. “He is my friend.”

“He told me how you met,” Bradford admitted. He grinned, that lopsided half-smile that tugged at Caroline’s heart, caused her pulse to miss a beat.

“Benjamin doesn’t easily talk to anyone. I’m surprised that he confided in you.” She frowned, wondering just how Bradford had convinced Benjamin.

“I told him I was going to marry you and that I would see to your protection,” Bradford replied, inadvertently answering her unspoken question.

“That was very arrogant of you,” Caroline said.

Bradford wasn’t put off by her remark. He rolled to his side, kicking the covers off, and began to nibble on Caroline’s hip.

Caroline jumped and tried to slap his face away. She laughed while she told him that he wasn’t being very proper, but the laughter died when she saw that he was aroused again. “Bradford, I’m too tender still. You’re going to have to—”

“Make love to you a different way,” Bradford finished.

Caroline turned until she was on her knees and frowned at her husband. His gaze was hot and extremely lustful. He took his time looking at her breasts, the nipples erect in instinctive anticipation, the tiny waist and slender hips, enjoying her nudity with a look filled with promise.

She shook her head when he crooked his finger and said, “Come here, Caroline. It won’t hurt this time, I promise.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Caroline muttered when he reached up and pulled her down on top of him. “Bradford, I really am sore,” she said.

Her voice was fretful and Bradford hurried to soothe her. “There are endless ways to make love, Caroline. Relax,” he whispered, stroking her back.

Caroline wasn’t at all sure what Bradford was telling her. She leaned up and gave him a disgruntled look, letting him know that she didn’t believe him. He kissed the frown from her face while he caressed her backside.

The leisurely kisses were soon unsatisfactory and the intensity, the hotness of his simmering hunger, exploded into raw passion. Bradford’s mouth was relentless as he ravished his wife, forced her resistance away. He pushed her onto her back and then lowered his head to worship her straining breasts.

Caroline’s fingers threaded their way through Bradford’s soft, silky hair. She tried to roll closer to her husband but his leg locked her against the bed, keeping
her still. And then he was moving lower, bathing a scorching path with his hot kisses, his velvet tongue.

She didn’t realize his intent until his knee had forced her legs apart and his hands held her steady. His fingers slipped into the satiny petals, stroking and petting, until she was moist and sleek with arousal. His mouth replaced his fingers and he was heedless to Caroline’s startled pleas to stop.

The pleasure was excruciatingly sweet. Caroline’s hips began to move in a slow, lethargic motion. She gripped the sheets with her hands, and her head moved with the same restlessness against the pillow as her hips moved against Bradford’s magic.

When she thought she could bear the building ecstasy no longer, the heat inside her exploded into a thousand fragments. She arched in surrender and heard herself call his name.

Bradford had thought only to pleasure her, to show her the heights he could make her touch, and he had to fight the powerful urge to thrust himself into her beckoning warmth. She was so tight, so hot, and her passionate response to him nearly bested his good intentions.

He took a deep breath, quieting his trembling body, and pulled away from her. He forced himself to think of something other than the sensual creature beside him, vowing with a fierce growl not to take her.

Caroline sat up, her gaze still lazy with passion. Her hand stroked Bradford’s thigh in slow circles and she was surprised when he grabbed her hand and held it still.

“Give me a minute to slow down,” Bradford stated. His voice was harsh but there was no help for it. His loins throbbed for satisfaction. “Otherwise I’ll break my promise, sweet, and you’ll have trouble walking for a week.”

Caroline smiled. “A week, Bradford? Surely you exaggerate.” She pulled her hand free and trailed one
finger down the middle of his chest. “You look like you’re in pain, husband,” she remarked in a sultry whisper. Her hand hesitated in its direction, and Caroline noticed that her husband had quit breathing. She suddenly felt very powerful and quite seductive. Her hand continued until she was touching Bradford’s hardness.

Bradford visibly jerked and then let out a full groan. Caroline smiled over it and whispered, “You have just given me pleasure, Bradford. Isn’t there a way I can pleasure you too?”

“Caroline, my little innocent …” The rest of his explanation got caught in the back of his throat, lost in the low growl when Caroline slowly lowered her head and placed feathery, teasing kisses against his navel. “You’ll have to tell me what to do,” she whispered.

The Duke of Bradford immediately did just that.

C
AROLINE’S WORRY ABOUT BEING EMBARRASSED WHEN
she faced her guests never became a reality. By the end of the weekend, when she and her husband finally emerged from their bedroom, all the guests had taken their leave.

“We have been terribly rude,” Caroline told her husband over dinner that night. Her grin told him that she wasn’t too upset over her behavior, and he found himself laughing.

Bradford had made travel arrangements for a suitable honeymoon, but he and his new wife never got as far as the front door during the bliss-filled days and nights.

Caroline quickly adapted to her new life and took over the responsibilities of running the huge house with relative ease. Henderson, Bradford’s man, and Mrs. Lindenbowe, the housekeeper, helped show her the way.

Bradford, Caroline found, wasn’t as easy to run. In fact, she told herself on numerous occasions, he wasn’t an easy man to love. His temper rivaled Mount Vesuvius when he became angry, but the verbal explosions were quick to end. Caroline always stood up to him, giving as good as she got, and slowly came to accept the fact that their relationship would always keep her on her toes.

She waited with growing frustration to hear her
husband tell her that he loved her. She believed, in time, that the walls Bradford had erected around his heart would dissolve and he would allow her to see his vulnerability.

He was, without a doubt, the most stubborn man in the world. She learned, over the course of the following weeks, that there were certain subjects he didn’t care to discuss. And his family topped the list.

Patience was never one of Caroline’s strong points, but she managed well enough, thinking that her prize would be worth the strain. In time, Bradford would trust her with his heart.

Caroline was sorry when they had to return to London. The occasion was Charity’s wedding, which would certainly be festive, but she hated for their honeymoon to end. She told Bradford just that and he laughed, hugging her close to him inside the cozy carriage on their way back to the city. “It’s possible to make love in London, sweetheart. Lord, I believe I’ve made you quite wanton.”

“Are you sorry for it?” Caroline asked with a smile.

Bradford’s answer was to lift her onto his lap and show her just how unsorry he really was.

Caroline had never seen Bradford’s townhouse and she found it quite comfortable. It was large and masculine, cluttered with heavy, old-fashioned, leathery furnishings that indicated male territory.

The large canopy bed in Bradford’s room had thick drapes that were tied back during the day. Caroline tested the mattress while Bradford readied himself for dinner. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she untied both drapes. She was hidden from view but her throaty laugh told him she was enjoying herself. “It will be toasty in here,” she called out to him. “Nice and warm.”

Bradford walked over to the bed and pulled the curtain aside. His bare chest glistened from his bath. Caroline smiled up at him and stretched out on the
covers. She clasped her hands behind her head, imitating his habit, and gave him a slow, seductive wink.

“Have you ever been cold in my bed?” Bradford demanded. His voice was laced with amusement, a mockery to the ferocious frown he displayed.

Caroline was dressed only in a robe and one thigh was exposed for her husband’s view. Bradford’s gaze slowly traveled the distance between her head and her toes and when he was again looking into her eyes, the amusement was gone.

“You entice me, Caroline,” Bradford said. His voice had taken on a gruff edge.