LuckySilver (3 page)

“All done,” she said, trying to sound as confident as
possible.

Rhys nearly groaned aloud. Clad in those garments, she was
temptation incarnate. Baggy as they were, the trousers accentuated her curvy
hips and her breasts pressed tantalizingly against the shirt. Unable to help
himself, he looked his fill and was instantly aroused. All his earlier
reservations flew out of his head as blood rushed to his groin.

“So we are to stay the night here?” she asked, eyeing the
bed.

Oh, yes.

He cleared his throat, struggling to maintain basic
politeness. “It is too snowy to ride back to Montford Hall tonight. I promise
not to steal all the blankets for myself.”

The tip of her tongue moistened her bottom lip. As much as
he tried, he couldn’t look away. By now she knew he was ogling her, yet she was
clearly too inexperienced to initiate anything.

“Would you care for a drink?” Rhys asked courteously.

“Please.” He watched her sit down at the small table, almost
mesmerized at the way her hips moved. He hadn’t wanted any woman so fiercely in
all his life. But he had the feeling she wouldn’t settle for lust rather than
love.

He respected that, for he felt the same way. Yet Marissa had
told him she didn’t belong. What precisely did she mean by that?

“Tell me about yourself.” He poured two glasses of claret
and sat down across from her. “What are your interests?”

Marissa blinked, long eyelashes briefly shrouding her dark
eyes. “I have been a…scholar for most of my life, studying history.”

He watched her stall for time by taking a careful sip of her
claret. Her fingers—ungloved now—stroked the table nervously. Rhys swallowed,
forced his gaze upward. One hand slipped under the table, adjusting his
trousers to a greater girth.

He belatedly realized she was awaiting a response from him.
“I have always enjoyed reading about history. To spend years studying speaks of
a great dedication to the subject.”

“I especially love reading about the ancient times. The
Egyptians are a passion of mine.” She was beginning to warm to the topic, her
eyes coming alight as they met his.

He would have done almost anything to have her continue
looking at him like that. “One of my father’s acquaintances recently returned
from visiting Alexandria and Cairo. He tells me they are finding wondrous
treasures in the Egyptian deserts.”

“I have heard of such things. Have you never been tempted to
travel yourself?”

“Somewhat. But my home is England, although I do often foray
into Wales; the border is only a few miles away.”

“Offa’s Dyke.” She looked thoughtful.

“Yes.
Clawdd Offa
in the Welsh. Some of the locals
say mysterious happenings occur around the border.”
Like your arrival
,
he thought.

Marissa gave him an enigmatic half-smile. “Perhaps they do.
My great-grandfather was born in Cardiff. Are you fluent in Welsh?”

“I speak passably. Enough to carry a conversation and do a
little business with traders. My mother is from Powys and has a very Welsh
family history. She was able to convince my father to give her sons Welsh
names. I grew up with plenty of visiting maternal aunts, uncles and cousins to
play with.” He noticed her wistful smile and asked, “Do you have any siblings
yourself?”

“No. I often wish I did. I am…lonely quite a bit of the
time.” Although her voice was matter-of-fact, there was a subtle undertone of longing.
At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to sweep her up and take her back
to Montford Hall, banish the squawking ladies, and introduce her to his
sprawling family.

But the Montfords were already known to be slightly
eccentric. That was why his mother was so keen for him to marry Lady Arabella.
She was from a reputable family and a match with her would be advantageous, if
exceedingly dull. A match with Marissa, on the other hand…

Rhys took a long sip of his drink. Perhaps he was thinking
too far ahead. He still hardly knew Marissa. He needed to rein in his lust, refrain
from acting upon gut instinct even though both mind and body screamed at him to
get to know her better.

He stood leisurely, stretching. Maybe if he did something
else, he could distract himself. “Should I prepare some food?” he asked.

“Yes please, if you are eating as well.” She paused a
moment, then asked, “Did you have this cottage built for a reason?”

Rhys chuckled as he sliced the little loaf of bread he’d
tucked in the cabinet a few days ago. “My grandfather built it in his youth. He
was a very…lustful man.”

“And do you keep it for the same reason?” she asked
impertinently.

His head swiveled around, meeting her gaze instantly. She
was blushing, the pinkness lingering on her cheeks even as she ducked her head
away from him. Rhys blinked. For a virgin, she could be oddly straightforward.
He regarded her for a moment, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“If I tell you, do I merit another kiss?”

“I—I—another kiss?”

The blush deepened and Rhys took pity on the girl. “I have
taken a few trysts in this cottage, although the last one was quite some time
ago. Now it serves as a welcome retreat from all the eligible women my mother
likes to throw at me.” Rhys spread preserves on the bread and returned to the
table.

The fortune-teller’s words floated through his head again. Rhys
cursed himself for a superstitious fool. He cast about for something else to
distract himself with, something to dilute the almost physically painful
arousal he was undergoing. “Tell me what brought you to my party,” he
commanded.

Her mouth opened as if she were about to speak, then closed.
She blinked rapidly.

“Cat got your tongue?” He smiled. What was annoying in other
women was oddly endearing with Marissa.

“The faeries have my tongue, more like. I must say, I did
not have an invitation for your party. I found the maze intriguing and I
ventured inside.”

“You are staying nearby? With whom?”

“I only just arrived in the area.” She blinked again, twice.
“I had not yet settled upon where to stay, or with whom. I know it sounds
highly unorthodox.”

“Indeed.” But her situation only served to fascinate Rhys
further. “Tell me of your family.”

“There is not much to tell. My parents were merchants. Wealthy
enough to see me supported in my studies even after their deaths.” She nibbled
at her piece of bread. “Certainly not as wellborn as your family.”

“Ah, but my younger brothers have the best of that world,”
Rhys replied, smiling. “All the money and hardly any of the responsibility. When
they go to London, for example, they can frequent gentlemen’s clubs without our
mother haranguing them to attend balls or take tea with fusty old women. Nor
must they sort through buckets of calling cards.”

“Do you prefer Montford Hall over London, then?” Marissa
seemed to be soaking up his words eagerly. Despite her recent physical exertion,
her eyes were bright with curiosity, a look he was never going to tire of
seeing.

Rhys considered before he spoke, wanting to give her a
genuine answer, not just one born out of small talk. “In most respects, yes. I
am more peaceful. I enjoy being in a rural setting. On the other hand, I have
many responsibilities as baron, and cannot as easily escape from them as I
might do in London by running off to a club or a social event. Besides all
that, brigands have been striking at some of my farmers lately. My presence at
Montford Hall seems to be somewhat of a deterrent.”

He took a sip of claret, mildly confused. He had never
shared so many of his thoughts with a woman before. It made him feel almost
vulnerable.

“Brigands? Are there no…no…” She paused, obviously searching
for the proper term.

“Constables? In the larger settlements, yes. Montford Hall
and its village do not have the population to maintain one. There’s hardly any
internal crime around here.”

He watched her digest that. She licked a drop of claret from
her lips, looking pensive.

“What do you plan to do next?” Rhys changed the subject
deliberately. He tried not to rake her with his gaze. It was nearly impossible
to keep from looking at her, admiring the silky curve of her breasts through
his shirt. The nipples were still pebbled from the chill of the outdoors. He
could make out two tiny dimples in the shirt’s fabric. Rhys tore his eyes away,
looking into the fire. At this rate, he would find sleeping next to her all but
impossible.

He channeled his frustration into irritation when she didn’t
speak. “You do know that if you had continued down that road, it would have
been another six miles before you reached the next village? If you had not
frozen to death first, of course.”

Marissa visibly blanched. “I see.”

“Are you so certain you still want to leave?” Rhys toyed
idly with his plate, yet the entirety of his attention was focused on Marissa.
Deep within, his physical needs screamed at him to act. He wasn’t going to be
able to resist any longer.

“What is my alternative?” she asked quietly.

“Stay.” It was a word straight from his heart. He hadn’t
known he was going to utter it, but he wouldn’t have taken it back for the
world.

“Here in the cottage?”

“For tonight, yes. Then return with me to Montford Hall.” In
one fluid motion, he was on his feet and at her side, drawing her up and into
his arms before he could think of a reason to deny himself the pleasure.

Marissa came willingly, although he could sense the
trepidation deep within her body, betrayed by the slight woodenness of her
limbs, the stiffness of her spine. Pulling her close, he molded her against his
body, allowing her to feel how aroused he was. One hand cupped her firm
buttocks, the other caressed the nape of her neck.

She gasped a little, gaining more confidence as he allowed
her to move slowly. He traced the outline of her breast with one of his fingers
in an unhurried manner, relishing the contact.

“Do you want me to kiss you again?”

Marissa’s whispered affirmative thrilled a part of him that
had long been dormant. “I have been waiting for this moment all evening,” he
breathed.

She smelled like wildflowers, tasted like honey. He couldn’t
get enough of her. Marissa was hesitant at first, following his lead timidly
yet eagerly. His hand skimmed across her thigh, tugging at the trousers. They
fell easily to her ankles, and he sucked in a deep, anticipatory breath as the
scrap of fabric between her legs followed suit. She was already wet for him.

He stilled her half-formed protest with another kiss,
coaxing her toward the bed. By now, the fire’s warmth had spread throughout the
room, leaving the air comfortably toasty, perhaps even a trifle too hot.

Somehow they ended up on the small chaise longue near the
bed. Velvety and well-padded, it was a comfortable halfway seat. The way her
eyes widened at the sight of the bed, Rhys knew he was going to need to move
carefully.

He sat down, drawing her atop him even as he loosened the
buttons on his pants. Marissa straddled him, lips parted, eyes hazy with
passion—and a tinge of confusion. Murmuring reassurances, he dragged his gaze
across her delectable body and breathed out slowly, not wanting to hurry this
and risk scaring her.

After a moment, some of her spirit returned and she began
unbuttoning his shirt. He let her, enjoying the sensation of his skin slowly
being exposed to the air. He felt her tense, her thighs involuntarily
tightening around his waist as he caressed a nipple with the roughness of his
thumb.

“Rhys…” Her voice was the merest whisper of a plea. He
rightly interpreted it as permission to continue his explorations.

“Take everything off now. I want to see you naked.” He kept
his voice gentle yet commanding, knowing that she needed some guidance.

Although she was initially hesitant, Marissa soon obeyed
him, allowing the shirt to fall to the floor. As she turned to face him, he
groaned with pleasure at the sight of her uncovered breasts. “Beautiful.”

“Do you really think so?”

In answer, he took one nipple into his mouth, relishing her
surprised gasp. Only then did he rise and lift her easily onto the nearby bed.

Rhys bent to kiss a line of fire from the curve of her belly
up to her breasts. He liked the fact that she wasn’t a slip of a girl, liked
that she fit underneath him without making him question whether she was going
to break in two. Her supple pliancy was exciting him beyond belief.

Now that she was naked and underneath him, he knew there was
no turning back for either of them.

Marissa was drowning in passion. Although she’d had the odd
kiss,
this
was far beyond anything she had ever experienced. Rhys was
everywhere, supporting her as he guided her into the positions he wanted her
in, his lips tantalizing her. And all the while, his hardness burned against
her thigh.

The brush of his clothes against her bare skin was driving
her mad. With his help, she undid the remaining buttons on his shirt, watching
avidly as he shed the garment, his muscles rippling as he tossed it aside.

Without breaking eye contact with him, Marissa deliberately
moved her hand to his telltale bulge, undoing the leather ties at his waist. Rhys
made a noise deep in his throat as he slipped free of his trousers, a very
masculine sound that made her shiver with raw anticipation.

She wondered if she should warn him about her inexperience.
Shyly, she decided against it. He would find out at some point—sooner rather
than later by the look on his face. His cobalt eyes pinned her to the bed while
his hands did unspeakably wonderful things to her body.

Marissa gasped as his fingers parted her thighs, arching
involuntarily against his wrist and crying out in pleasure. She had never been
this aroused, never craved such physical sensation. Her body was fully
responsive, damp and sensitive as Rhys slipped one finger inside her.