Only You (11 page)

Read Only You Online

Authors: Cheryl Holt

“What?”

“I never bother chatting with women.”

“Oh, that’s right.  You merely engage in salacious acts you can’t mention aloud.”

“Should I show some of them to you?”

“Would I like them?”

“I’m betting you would or I wouldn’t have asked.”

“Why would you suppose I’d be interested?  Is it because of my situation with Lord Trent?  Do you imagine I have wicked tendencies?”

“Yes, I do imagine that.  Under that serene exterior, you’re a vixen at heart.”


I
am a vixen?”

“Yes.  You’ve just never had anyone to light your spark.”

“You feel it could be you?”

“Yes.”

“You’re confident.  I’ll say that for you, but you’ve miscalculated with me.  Why would I misbehave with a man who will only stay around for the next day or two?  I’d ruin myself, then you’d trot off without a backward glance.  That seems a tad reckless on my part.”

“Yes, but reckless conduct is the very best kind.”

“And you’re an avowed libertine.”

“Yes, and it’s why women wind up in scandals.  A skilled libertine can talk a female into any bad choice.”

“You really believe that?”

“Absolutely.  Let’s see if I have any effect on you.”

Soloman drew Theo to
him and began kissing her again.  He was more thorough than he’d previously been, and he was quickly in over his head.  Why was he trifling with her?  What as his objective?  Every time he was with her, he assumed it was the last time.  But circumstances were throwing her in his path almost as if Fate were conspiring to force them together.

If he was caught with her, the resulting mess would be hideous, but he wasn’t worried about it.  She was like a talisman, a magic magnet that had ensnared him, and he couldn’t pull away.  So long as she was in the vicinity, he couldn’t bear to keep his distance.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue in her mouth, as he yanked at the combs holding her chignon in place.  They scattered across the dock, and her pretty blond hair tumbled down her back.

“I’ll never find them in the dark,” she scolded.

“I don’t care if you never find them.  If it were up to me, you’d have your hair down all the time.”

“How shocking.”

“I’d get you out of these heavy clothes too.  Aren’t you dying in this heat?”

“Yes, but I don’t have the money to purchase a more comfortable wardrobe, and even if I did, Aunt Edna would never let me wear it.  She deems the local attire to be vulgar and improper.”

“She would.  Don’t you grow weary of listening to her?”

“Yes, but when I’m with her constantly, she’s difficult to ignore.”

“Your corset and shoes would be the first pieces I’d remove.”

“Mr. Grey!” she teasingly said.  “You can’t utter the word
corset
in my presence.  I might swoon.”

“Your stockings and jacket would have to go too.  I want to see you stripped down to bare skin.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you’re so beautiful, and I’m happy when I can view more of your lovely self.”

Why had he offered such a silly comment?  What was wrong with him?  If he’d had two pennies of common sense, he’d stand her on her feet and escort her to her tent.  But when he was with her, he simply couldn’t make good decisions.

Never in his life had he told a female she was beautiful, and he wondered if he hadn’t been bewitched.  Maybe he needed to visit the camp’s witch doctor and buy a potion to ward off her potent effect.

He gripped her waist and lifted her, dragging her off the bench and over his lap.  She was on her knees, her skirt rucked up. 

With the moon rising behind her, the Nile shimmering in the background, she looked like an ancient goddess, perhaps a river mermaid that would lure him to his doom before he noticed the rocks that were approaching.

He eased her hips down, so their loins were touching.  The fabric of his trousers and her drawers were the only items keeping them from drastic and irreversible acts, and his body was urging him to forge ahead and damn the consequences.

Since he never behaved foolishly, he was even more perplexed by his responses to her.  She was smiling down at him and that smile goaded him to insanity.

“Do you know what happens between men and women when they’re alone?” he inquired.

“I’ve heard they engage in physical conduct, but I can’t describe it.  I’d ask if
you
know, but I’m sure of the answer to that question.”

“What if you never wed?  You’ll never learn the secret of the marital bed.”

“I’ll survive.  There are spinsters everywhere who have grand lives without a husband.”

“You shouldn’t be one of them.”

“I don’t have a choice in the matter.  Lord Trent saw to that.”

For a fleeting instant, he nearly declared himself, nearly told her he’d wed her after all.  It was a horrifying insight that had to be brought on by his raging ardor.

Matrimony was the road a man walked with a woman like her, and apparently he was willing to falsely dangle that connection merely to get what he wanted.  He was afraid he’d open his mouth and a thousand promises would spew out that he’d never intended to make.

Passion he understood.  Lust he understood.  It was the emotional upheaval created by their situation that bewildered him.

He started kissing her yet again, keeping on and on until he could scarcely tamp down his worst impulses.  He dipped under her chin and nibbled at her nape, nuzzling a trail to her bosom.  He yanked at the sleeves of her jacket, tugging it down and off her arms so he had more leverage to tug on her bodice. 

He pulled it down too, exposing a plump breast, and he sucked on her nipple.  He licked and played, tormenting her until he was so aroused he truly suspected he might toss her down on the dock and fornicate with her.

All the while, his hand was working its way up her leg, her thigh, until it slipped under her skirt.  Without pausing to consider if he should, he slid a finger into her womanly sheath. 

She was such a sexual creature that he hardly touched her, and she was pitched into a thrilling orgasm.  He continued his assault on her nipple, laving it through the tumult as she soared up, reached the peak, then toppled down.

As she collapsed against him, he was grinning, preening.  He’d figured there was an ardent tempest bubbling under that pretty exterior, and he’d been proved correct.  She was snuggled to his chest, her face pressed to his shoulder, and he rubbed a soothing palm up and down her back.

“What was that, Soloman?” she asked when she could speak again.  “What happened to me?  I feel as if I exploded.”

“That was a taste of physical passion.  Since you’re determined to remain a spinster, I thought I should show you what you’ll be missing.”

“Passion can be
satisfying
to a woman?”

“Very.”

“This reaction…it occurs regularly?”

“If the man has any prowess, and I definitely have it.”

She snorted.  “Cad.  Bounder.”

“I don’t deny it, but aren’t you glad I am?  You could have such fun with me.”

“I shouldn’t have let you proceed,” she said, but she didn’t appear to be upset.

He shrugged.  “I want to know you like this.  If it was up to me, I’d strip you naked and have my wicked way with you.”

She shivered as if her anatomy—down to the tiniest pore—was tantalized by the notion.  Still though, she insisted, “I couldn’t do it.”

“Maybe you could.  Don’t underestimate your amorous proclivities.  If you decide you crave it badly enough, just come to me in the night after people are in bed.”

“Women actually behave so scandalously?  They slink into your tent?”

“More often than you’d suppose.”

“I couldn’t ever be one of them.”

“Why not?”

“Because I desire more from you than a quick tumble.”

“You only think you desire more.  If you had me for your very own, you’d regret it before the first week was out.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” she vehemently said.  “I’d never regret it.”

She snuggled down again, and as they nestled in the quiet, he tried to imagine what it would be like to bind himself to her.

He let an intriguing picture play out where he was the spouse she needed, where they had a houseful of fetching daughters who were exact copies of her.  But it wasn’t a destiny he’d ever sought. 

He couldn’t make her happy, because if they wed, she’d expect him to fall in love with her.  Yet he’d loved in the past:  his father, his baby brother, his father’s very young and beautiful bride.  He’d inappropriately loved her most of all, and when Baby Caleb had vanished, she’d been the most strident in her accusations. 

Her malice had left him deeply wounded.  The fact that she hadn’t believed him, that she’d publicly blamed him, had taught him many hard lessons.  He didn’t trust anyone, and he never would. 

Over the years, he’d grown to be a solitary person, and he was incredibly spoiled and arrogant now.  Theo didn’t understand that about him.  He had no patience, he never listened, and she deserved kindness and respect from a husband, which meant she’d be miserable as his wife.

Eventually, she sat up.  “I should head back.”

“Probably, but are you sure you won’t join me later?”

“I’m very sure.”

“Should I tell you where my tent is in case you change your mind?”

“I won’t change my mind.”

“How about tomorrow night?  Will you walk with me in the moonlight again?”

She pondered for an eternity, then said, “I doubt it.”  Then she grinned.  “But if I change my mind on that invitation, I’ll let you know.”

He patted her on the bottom.  “We could have another rendezvous on the dock.”

“Yes, we could, so I have to get a grip on myself and not sneak off alone with you.  When I fled London in disgrace, I swore I would exhibit moral character on all occasions, and you’re ruining all my best laid plans.”

“In my book, moral character is highly overrated.” 

She leaned down and pressed their cheeks together.  “You make me want more than I can have.”

“I’m not sorry.  Sometimes, all two people can manage for themselves is to share a few hours or days of illicit conduct.  It’s not wrong to seize what contentment you can.”

“I told you I need more from you than a few hours or days.”  She drew away and studied his eyes.  “No matter what happens while we’re at this camp, promise me you won’t depart without saying goodbye.”

“I won’t.  I promise.”

“Once you finally go, I’ll be so despondent.”

He was beginning to suspect he would be a bit undone himself, but he would never confess it.  She was a romantic, and she’d take any admission as evidence of burgeoning affection.

“You’ll be fine, Theo.  You’ll always be fine.”

“Could we correspond after we part?  And could we try to meet in Cairo prior to my sailing for England?”

“Let’s not map out a future.  Let’s just revel in the moment.”

“Oh, you wretch,” she complained, but she chuckled.  “You won’t even give me a reason to hope.”

“I’m not worth pining over, Theo.”

“Says you.  I have a different opinion.”

She slid away and stood, and he stood too.  She swayed a little and laughed.  “Gad, my knees are weak.  You’re a sorcerer, and you cast a spell on me.”

“There’s a way to break my enchantment.”

“What is it?”

“You dally with me frequently before I continue down the river with Preston.”

“We’ll see what I do, Soloman.  I’ll keep you guessing until I’ve decided.”

She surprised him by rising up on tiptoe and kissing him.  Then she scooped up her hair combs and started off without another word.  He followed her to the camp, and very quickly there was no opportunity for further conversation.  Sounds carried in the desert, and they had to be cautious. 

He guided her to her tent, and as they neared it, he stepped into the foliage and hid so he could watch her safely arrive.

She reached it and grabbed for the flap, halting to glance over where he was lurking in the ferns.  She winked at him, then disappeared inside.

He ambled to the dock and sat on the bench where he’d been with her.  He yearned to stay with her forever, yearned to dawdle with her for as long as he could.  But it was madness to want those things, and he’d never had deranged tendencies.

He stared out at the Nile, wondering how soon he could convince Preston to leave.  The only cure for what ailed him was to escape her strange magnetic allure.  How swiftly could he manage to go?

CHAPTER TEN

P
reston, wait!”

He stopped and breathed out a heavy sigh, feigning aggravation at having been hailed.  He spun around.

“What is it, Susan?”

“Could we talk?”

“I don’t think we should.”

He was on his way to his tent, having enjoyed a marvelous supper with Cedric Webster.  Considering the isolated locale, Preston had been surprised by the fine food and excellent wine.  The meal had been so scrumptiously prepared that he’d been able to ignore Edna Wallace and dig into the repast with great relish.

Throughout the meal, he’d had to act as if he and Susan were practically strangers.  As the evening had worn on, she’d grown desperate for him to pay her some attention.

Since their calamity at the ruins, he’d avoided her like the plague.  He hadn’t assumed it was a ploy to pique her interest.  He’d truly believed he was finished with her, but maybe he wasn’t.  He liked having her moon over him and beg him for more than he was inclined to give.

He’d been certain she’d follow him, so while he was walking to his tent, he wasn’t walking very fast. 

“Why are you ignoring me?” she said as she marched up.

“Not so loud, Susan.  Please.”

She repeated her accusation, but in a whisper.  “You’re ignoring me.”

“I haven’t been.”

“Yes, you have.  Ever since the night we—”

He scowled.  “Hush!  Will you refer to the incident right out in the open?  Anyone might be listening.”

“I’m sorry, but I thought we were friends.”

“We are.”

“You treat me as if you’re angry with me.  Are you angry?”

“No.”

“You hardly speak to me anymore.”

“There hasn’t been a chance, dear.  Once your cousin fell in the river, your mother has been watching the two of you like a hawk.”

“I feel as if you blame me for what occurred at the ruins.”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“It wasn’t my fault that brigand attacked us.”

“Of course it wasn’t.”

“And I wanted you to know that you were very brave.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you ever hear anything about that man?  Was he found?  Will there be an investigation?”

“How could the stupid oaf report the event as a crime? 
He
attacked us.  If he got a bash on the noggin for his troubles, it was well deserved.”

At the memory, she shuddered, and he had to admit, he had to tamp down a shudder of his own.  The entire episode had been horrid, and he was pretending it hadn’t happened.

After he’d had to have three stitches sewn in his finger, and all because he’d been forced to protect her, he’d decided not to bother with her again.  But she still hadn’t mentioned whether she had a dowry or not, and in his experience, girls who were infatuated always bragged about their fiscal value, eager for him to realize they were a splendid catch.

With her being mum on the topic, he wondered if he shouldn’t flirt with her a bit, just until he had more information.  His companions down the Nile were a cordial sort, but they’d be living a more rough-and-tumble existence than Cedric Webster, and Preston wouldn’t like it very much.

He’d revel in Webster’s hospitality for as long as the man would extend it, and there was no reason he couldn’t trifle with Susan while he remained at the camp.  It would give him the opportunity to find out if she was financially worth the chase, and it would keep him entertained in the late hours when there was nothing to do.

“Would you like to join me for a drink?” he asked.

She smiled as if he’d offered her the Holy Grail.  “I would like to very much.”

“When can you get away?”

“I’m sharing a tent with Theo.  I could sneak out after she goes to sleep.”

“I hope she doesn’t suffer from insomnia where she’s awake all night so you’d never be able to leave.”

“No, and at the moment, I’m not sure she’s there.  I saw her walking with Mr. Grey after supper.”

“Lady Theo and Mr. Grey?  Are they courting?”

“No.  My mother would never allow it.  They’re just friends.”

“Lady Theo and Mr. Grey?’ he said again.

“She had some problem in Cairo, and he removed her from it and brought her to our hotel.  Then there was the accident on the boat where he pulled her from the water.  Doesn’t a woman always love a man who rescues her?”

“So I’ve heard.”

He thought of his own rescue of Susan in the desert.  Was she hinting that she was in love with him already?  Well, if she was, it would definitely be easier to receive what he sought from her, that being her fussy little virginity and her big fat dowry.

“I could probably come with you right now,” she said.  “I don’t have to wait.”

“What if she returns and you’re not there?”

“She’ll assume I’m at the bathing pools, but her opinion doesn’t matter.  I’ve made it clear that
I
am none of her business.  She wouldn’t dare chastise me.”

“She won’t tell your mother?”

“No.  She and Mother don’t get along.”

“Does anyone get along with Edna?”

“No.”

“When she’s such an arrogant shrew, how is it that you’re so sweet and charming?  You don’t take after her in the least.”

“I’m told I’m more like my father.”

“You don’t know?”

“I was barely acquainted with him.  He was always in India, and I was always in England.”

“You’re an army brat.”

“Yes, but I’m not a brat at all.”  She grinned up at him.  “Do you really think I’m sweet and charming?”

“Absolutely, Susan.”

She clasped his arm, and they proceeded down the path to his tent.  As they slipped inside, he wasn’t worried about being observed. 

The camp was a working village, with people up before dawn so tasks could be completed prior to the heat in the middle of the day.  The servants had been asleep for hours, and Soloman had given their own crew the evening off, so they were loafing down by the river, eating and drinking and gossiping about their betters.

His tent was spacious, and he hadn’t scrimped on the amenities.  He had a bed with a feather mattress, rugs and wall hangings, trunks and a table and chairs.  A lantern burned on the table, and he adjusted the wick, providing just enough light so he could see what was important.

He’d intended to fornicate with her that night in the desert, but he hadn’t had the chance, and she seemed hell-bent on getting herself ruined.  Since she was so determined, why should he suffer any guilt over his plans for her?  Then again, maybe she’d dispensed with her virginity ages ago. 

By all accounts, she’d grown up at a boarding school with her parents thousands of miles away.  Who had been around to watch over her?  Who had been there to counsel restraint?

He hoped there’d been no one.  While it was always interesting to press the issue with an innocent female, it was much more satisfying to toy with a trollop who’d acquired a few skills.  Which sort was Susan Wallace?

He poured them both a whiskey, then he sat at the table, and she sat too.  They sipped their drinks while she assessed the surroundings.  The silence was awkward, but she wasn’t inclined to break it.  He decided he should find out what she was pondering.

“What is it you want from me, Susan?”

“I’m trying to figure that out.”

“Are you in the habit of sneaking off with older men to their private quarters?”

“No, but I am in the habit of doing what I like without being scolded.”

“Ah, my favorite kind of girl—a loose and independent one.”

“My mother would have a fit if she learned I was here.”

“We won’t tell her, so you needn’t fret.”

“I have some questions to ask you,” she said, “but I’m not certain how to pose them.”

“I’ve found it best to be direct.  Ask away.  Let’s discover what answers you get.”

“Why aren’t you married?”

“I was long ago,” he lied, “but my wife passed away.  It had all been arranged by my relatives, so it should have been a perfect match.  But she was an impossible shrew, and I hated being a husband.  After I was free, I vowed I would never wed again.”

“Yet would you, if you met the right woman?”

“I might.”

He refilled their glasses as she stewed and fumbled over her queries.  It appeared she was about to suggest some type of bargain, and he was incredibly intrigued over what it might be. 

“Have you any money?” she inquired.

“More than enough.”

“How did you come by it?”

“I inherited it,” he lied again.  “How would you suppose?”

“So…if you had a wife, you could support her?”

“I couldn’t buy her a palace in Paris, but I could keep her in style.”

He studied her, his lazy gaze dropping to her shapely bosom.  He vividly remembered how her pert nipples had tantalized him out in the desert, and he was eager to get matters moving at a faster speed so something decadent could occur.

“How about you, Susan?  Have you a dowry?”

“Of course.”

“Your father wasn’t beggared when he died.”

“No.”

“Is it an amount sufficient that you’re worth the bother?”

“I feel that it is.”

He was curious as to what she meant.  He noticed she didn’t mention the actual sum, which was aggravating.  Most girls waxed on about every farthing, and if they didn’t, their mothers did.

“The money will come to your husband on your marriage?” he inquired.

“Yes, but my mother wants to pick my husband for me.  I’m wilting under her heavy thumb, and I’m looking to settle my own future without her interfering.”

“That’s a very bold plan.”

“Isn’t it though?”

“I can’t believe Mrs. Wallace would agree to you choosing for yourself.”

“Well, she wouldn’t have to be apprised, would she?  If I were to take drastic measures—for instance, if I was to elope—she couldn’t stop me, and the deed would be done before she knew she ought to worry.”

He smirked.  “Are you proposing to me, Susan?”

“I am, but if I’ve made a complete fool of myself, please don’t laugh at me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Have I misjudged you?  Or might you be interested?”

“I might be.  There would have to be conditions though.”

“I understand.  What are some of them?”

“Your mother could never reside with us, and she could never visit.”

She snorted with derision.  “Trust me.  If I run off with you, I can guarantee she’ll never visit.  She’ll never forgive me, and she’ll ignore us forever.”

“Wonderful,” he mused.  “The money has to be placed in my hands.  I’ll control it.  Not you.”

“I hadn’t assumed it would happen any other way.”

Gad, she was so young and unsuspecting!  This would be like taking candy from a baby.

“There are probably some other things too,” he said, “but on the spur of the moment, I can’t think of what they are.  I’ll ponder over it and add them on later.”

“May I have a few conditions as well?” she asked.

“It depends what they are.”

“I couldn’t bear for you to have other women.  I demand you be faithful.”

“That goes without saying,” he blandly stated.

“And I’d like to have a fun life.  I don’t want any drudgery or slogs or quarrels.  I want to wear pretty gowns and have amusing friends.  I want to host delicious suppers with merry guests.  I’d like to attend the theater whenever we’re in the mood.”

“I live exactly like that already, so I hadn’t expected we’d carry on any differently.”

“Also, don’t ever treat me as if I’m a child.  Don’t scold me or speak to me as if I’m an imbecile.  I’m an adult who’s been educated and reared in the first circles in England.  I have to be respected and esteemed.”

“You always will be.”

She studied him, then frowned.  “I’ll probably have more things to add too, but for now that’s all that comes to mind.”

“It’s an easy list.  If that’s all I must do to keep you happy, we’ll get on fine.”

“I’m hoping.”

They clinked their glasses in a toast.

“Will we elope?” she asked.  “Can we manage it?”

“Yes, but we can’t initiate it from here.  It’s too difficult to creep away without being noticed.  How about if I return to Cairo when you’re there?  We could vanish into the city and wed as soon as we sneak off.”

“You could arrange all the details?”

“Yes.  We simply have to be in Cairo at the same time.”

“We’re staying with Mr. Webster for a month, then we’re heading farther down the river to explore other sites.  But Edna plans to visit Cairo for a bit before we continue on.”

“Why?”

“Monsieur Valois has guests traveling from Paris who were acquainted with the Colonel, and she’s dying to meet them.  I’m betting we’ll be there two or three weeks, waiting for them to arrive.”

“We’d have plenty of opportunity to set our scheme in motion.”

“Yes.”

He nodded, seeing how it could all play out.  It wouldn’t be his first elopement, and they were actually quite thrilling to accomplish.  When romance was in the air, and danger driving the lovers to extremes, any fabulous conclusion seemed possible.

“In the interim,” he said, “I’d like a down payment on my future so I can be certain you’re serious.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.  We previously started down this road, but we were rudely interrupted by that brigand, so we didn’t finish.  Let’s finish now.”

“You intend to…to…”

She couldn’t complete her sentence, so he completed it for her.  “Yes, we’ll consummate our agreement.  Or have you been teasing me?  Are you a child or a woman?  You claim to be an adult.  Why would you be surprised when I request you act like one?”

“Shouldn’t the consummation come after the wedding?  After we’ve spoken the vows?”

“Usually, yes, but this is a special and perilous circumstance.  How can I be positive you’ll follow through, Susan?  You flirt outrageously, and you’ve tendered a very inappropriate and brazen proposal.  I could go to all this trouble on your behalf, only to have you chicken out.”

“I’m not afraid.  I
really
want to marry you.  I want the life you can provide.”

“Then show me how anxious you are to bind yourself so there can be no reneging.  You must realize—once we’ve fornicated—the ending is set in stone.  Matrimony is the sole option.”

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