REGENCY: Loved by the Duke (Historical Billionaire Military Romance) (19th Century Victorian Short Stories) (59 page)

She wrapped her legs around him, pinning him against her.  His body tensed against hers and she could feel the storm inside her swirling to dangerous levels.  He had not yet brought her to her full, nor she him, but they were coming close to the point where the storm would break. 

He freed his mouth from her breast and took both her tits in his hands like the joysticks on some kind of a flight craft and massaged them as he continued to move within her.  His hands on her bosom, her hands in his hair, they found each other’s control centers.  Every twitch of her fingers added vigor and speed to his pelvis.  Every squeeze of his palms elicited a delighted moan from her.

Such was their song and this tiny elevator was their hall. 

“I want you for my wife,” he said, his voice sounding gruff but sincere.

Her mind felt as though it had been deprived of something vital… perhaps it was blood… or oxygen as her breaths came in short gasps now.  But all she was able to do was look up at him as his pelvis grinded against hers. 

“I want you for my wife,” he repeated, sound just as he had before.

She could see no sign of deception in his face.  She had grown accustomed to seeing such in his face.  And just as she had known him to be in recent weeks, he was sincere.

“Come in me,” she said softly.  “Make me your wife.”

He smiled softly at her and though the expression was gentle, his actions were not.  Though she wouldn’t have thought it possible, he began to push harder against her. 

The storm inside of her began to grow.  She could feel a typhoon stirring inside of her, threatening to swallow her from the inside.  Lightning and thunder clapped within her, striking every chord of her body like the strings on a guitar.  She could feel every tiny vibration of her body as it collided with his.  Though it was a gale inside of her, she found that she wanted nothing more than to be consumed and lost in it.

She got her wish.

With a final and loud grunt, Alexi reached his peak.

She felt the plunge inside of her.  It was the warm waters of the ocean converging with the cold waters and with a great wave she felt washed over by warmth that she had never felt before in her life.  The storm in her belly was suddenly dwarfed by the feeling that Alexi plunged into her.  Her body’s storm was suddenly swallowed by his, like the ripples of a pebble in still waters suddenly consumed by the splash of a boulder. 

Their bodies moistened… tensed… then held.

The sensation was hard to describe.  Janice found after a few heartbeats that she had no desire to try and put into words what had just transpired.  It wasn’t physical… it wasn’t chemical… it wasn’t even psychological.  It was something that was more than any of these.

It was the physical feeling of love.

Chapter 10

By the time winter was on the wane and the snow began to melt, Janice felt that her life had settled back into a kind of neutral tone.  Things weren’t as she had expected they would be, but then again she hadn’t given much thought as to how they would change.  Still, the uncertainty of it all was somewhat relieving.  Her life had always been about schedules and programs that were closely monitored and adhered to.  Without that structure, there was something to be said for spontaneity that she enjoyed.

She stood naked before their bedroom mirror and gave herself an appraising look.  What she saw didn’t surprise her, but at the same time she could hardly recognize herself and she wondered if this was how some of her former clients had felt once she had finished with them.

Her breasts had swollen, as had her belly.  And both were due to the child growing within her.  But on the whole, she didn’t think that her body had developed too badly.  She was only three months along, after all.  There would still be more changes in her future.

And for the better,
she thought happily.

“You okay?” asked Alexi from behind her.

She turned and saw him standing in the doorway, trying to adjust his tie and failing. 

She smiled at him and approached him.  Even after all of this time together it amused her how he still couldn’t complete so simple a task. 

“I’m fine,” she said, keeping his fingers from doing anything other to his tie. 

He gave her a moment to adjust his tie for him and smiled at her while she worked.  When she finished, he bent over and kissed her swelling belly first and then added a second on one of her tender breasts. 

He encircled her with his arms, his hands resting on her bare buttocks.  He pressed his forehead against hers.  “You know, a thought occurred to me this morning.”

She smiled teasingly at him.  “Something dirty, I hope?”  It was an honest response.  They still had at least a half an hour before he had to be downstairs to hear the update from his R&D boys.  Time enough for a quickie.

He shook his head.  “No… something simple.”

“Simple?”

“Yes.”  He took a short breath.  “I realized that I never thanked you.”

She waited for him to explain.

“To get me cleaned up,” he said.  “Otherwise I’d…”

She silenced him with a kiss.  She took it as a win that he had even stopped to consider such a thing.  It was a good sign that he had other things on his mind and not just business, as his father wanted.  Perhaps that was one thing that she had done too well on, but at times like these, she didn’t care.

She broke the kiss and smiled at him.  “Don’t forget to comb your hair.  You have to look good.”

Chapter 1

San Rosa, Texas

1879

“Mrs. Latimer. Mrs. Latimer?” The voice called once again and Clara finally turned offering a slight shrug of embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, I’m still not used to being called that.” The blonde beauty smiled at the waiting coachmen, realizing the young man must have been only sixteen or seventeen. She didn’t notice the way he blushed a bright beet red at her attention. She never noticed the effect she had on men. Some people took it as coyness on her part, but the truth was, Clara never realized how beautiful she truly was.

“Please, call me Clara.” She said, and smiled sweetly again as the young man stumbled forward to grab her luggage. It wasn’t much at all, she thought with a slight frown. A single small chest was all she had been able to manage before her forced flight from that destitute place she refused to call a home. It had never been a home to her, and now it never would be.

“I…I’m Jamey, Ma’am. Jamey Garrison.”

With a shake of her head to dispel the awful memories of the past, she pushed them firmly away as she sent Jamey another smile of gratitude this time for the interruption and followed as he gestured for her to take a seat inside the waiting coach.

“Oh my,” She said as she ducked inside, sinking into the plumy stuffed cushioned bench seat upholstered with dark red velvet, the same rich fabric that draped the walls and made up the curtains that were now pulled to the side. “This is the most extravagant coach I have ever seen.” Clara finally said, looking around with her light green eyes as wide as they would go as she took in the opulent riding vehicle.

“Only the best for Mr. Latimer.” Jamey said, his drawling accent enunciated as he looked around with a proud smile. She could see the look of reverence shining on his dust smudged face. It was obvious that he looked up to his employer and Clara took it to heart. She knew almost nothing about her new husband, but if his employees loved and respected him then surely he must be a good man.

As Jamey took the reins, the coach jolted as the horses began to trot, taking her further away from her past and ever closer to her future. Clara knew that most would call her foolhardy for her actions. Getting hitched to a man she didn’t know, had never even seen. But Mrs. Johnston from the company had guaranteed her a wonderful husband, and more importantly, a life far away from the East Coast. The farther away she was from her father, and her old life, the better. She would deal with almost anything to get away from that.

She pulled out the crumpled letter that she’d taken to carrying folded and stashed in the secret pocket of the bodice of her dress. Carefully, she unfolded the already worn paper, treating as if it were the most delicate thing in the world because to her, it was. For the hundredth time, she scanned the words.

My dearest Clara,

I know we have yet to meet but I cannot wait for that day to come. I hope you are as optimistic as I. There are so many things to learn about each other, to grow to love and cherish. I thought I had everything I could ever want in my life, but I have learned that is untrue. Nothing has made me happy, not truly. Not until you. You will be my happiness, my reason, my hope. I will only make you one promise, and only one. No matter what happens, I will cherish and care for you. And I hope, one day, you will come to feel the same about me.

Waiting with bated breath,

Your husband,

Emmett Latimer

Carefully, Clara swiped at the single teardrop that had fallen onto the page, wiping it just as it began to smear one of the words. She knew this letter by heart, every syllable, every bit of punctuation. She also knew it was naïve to believe the words of a stranger but reading them, she felt like she truly did know him.

She glanced out of the gold framed window as the vehicle slowed and gasped at what she saw. Clara had been vaguely aware of the dusty town of San Rosa as they had driven through it, worn from long, burning hot summers. It was fall now, so a little cooler, but even still her dark green dress seemed overly warm to her.

Her eyes widened even further as Jamey ran around to help her out. She stood for a long moment, just staring up at the massive house. More like a palace, really, especially when she thought of the tiny, one bedroom tenement she and her father had lived in for all of those long years. They’d had a house once, but after her mother died in childbirth, her father had turned to alcohol, to anything that would numb the pain of her loss.

Forcefully, she shoved the thoughts to the back of her mind, staring at her new house as a wide smile broke across her face like sunshine. Finally, she was home.

Emmett watched in dire earnest as the coach drew up the long winding drive. He couldn’t breathe, and found himself actually growing a bit lightheaded as he finally forced himself to inhale. His heart pounded and his palms were sweaty. If he could have managed it at all he would have laughed at himself. Here he was, a man of twenty eight, and as nervous as a boy with his first kiss.

He had conquered every other challenge in his path to get to where he was today, and not always by honest or good means. He had pulled himself up from terrible poverty and now he was the richest man in Texas, maybe even the entire west. Now this slip of a girl was threatening to disturb his entire countenance. And he hadn’t even seen her yet!

Trying to get a hold of himself, or at least distract himself from the ball of lead it felt like he’d swallowed, he dug the gold pocket fob out of his breast coat pocket and checked the time. He knew most thought it was an extravagance to have such an expensive timepiece but he leaned toward the extravagant in most aspects of life. He had learned long ago to ignore the words and thoughts of others. He had spent a lifetime doing it.

“Uh hem.” A delicate sounding throat being cleared in front of him had his pulse sky rocketing again and it took every ounce of his will power not to jump out of his skin. He looked from his pocket watch to the ground where he could just the tips of tiny green leather boots that had obviously seen better days peeking out from the dusty hem of a green riding dress.

His gaze travelled up and up and he had to swallow hard as he passed over the ample curve of her hips, the hip at her waist and had to look away entirely at her more than ample chest, starting again at the graceful length of her neck. It swept up to meet perfectly with the curve of her jaw and the sweet line of her cheeks, flushed a flowing peach and finally his dark gaze collided with her light green and he felt like he was lost forever. Cast adrift in an ocean of clover that he would never escape, nor want to.

“I’m Clara.”

“I’m…I’m pleased to meet you.” He said finally, hating how gruff his voice was. He wanted to be soft and gentle and all the things that she needed him to be, but he knew the truth, even if she didn’t yet. He was an outlaw at heart. A rogue. And he always would be. But he smiled at her anyways, or at least tried to through his trembling lips.

“Well, pleased to meet you, will you kindly show me inside?” She said cheekily, surprising a laugh out of him.

“I’m Emmett.” He qualified, aware that he had a goofy grin spreading across his face, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about.

“I know.” Clara replied, her voice as soft as the breeze, and he could see it then. The same nerves that had almost crippled him plagued her just as voraciously. Maybe even more so because she was in a strange land, in a strange house, with a strange man. His heart melted then, as he stared at her beautiful feminine features, seeing the intrinsic kindness and naiveté that was such an anomaly in his world.

On impulse, he stuck out an elbow, and even gave her a small, but gallant, bow.

“If you would, my wife.” He said, barely choking on the unfamiliar word as he gestured for her to take his arm. She did, without hesitation, and it sent a thrill such as he’d never known shooting through him.

“I would be honored, husband.” With that, they strode inside their home, arm in arm.