Three times tempted, p.23
Three Times Tempted, page 23
“Sweetheart, nobody is a failure. We’ve only just started. We’ve got plenty of time to get this right.”
“I admire your optimism,” she said with a hint of irritation. “And don’t you dare laugh at me again.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Perhaps a little.”
Before she could express further resentment, he kissed her with an unfettered carnality that turned her blood to honey. It seemed mad that his lips delivered such heavenly pleasure, when the other…didn’t.
Except…
Perhaps it wasn’t so bad anymore. Perhaps it was even…quite nice.
Perhaps it went beyond nice.
Another squirm sparked pleasure. With unthinking eagerness, she lifted her hips.
“Caleb, that was…” Words eluded her.
“Better?”
Her pain had faded to a distant ache, more memory than active nuisance. Caleb’s invasion of her body now made her feel claimed rather than ripped apart. She wriggled again. Just to make sure. And also because the sensation improved every time she did it.
“Yes.” Imogen stretched up and kissed him again, while another thrill coursed through her.
He kissed her back, using his tongue and teeth to excite her. This time, that bizarre inner melting pleased instead of embarrassed her.
He made an encouraging sound and sucked her lower lip. She wriggled against the sheets. Those enjoyable sensations between her legs became such an extended experience that she couldn’t tell where one response ended and the next started.
With a yielding sigh, she tightened her thighs around his hips. When he moved, powerful reaction shook her and her moan expressed nothing but cooperation.
It turned out that she wasn’t deformed. What a relief. Her body now had no difficulty opening to Caleb’s thrusts. In fact, she loved the way he filled her. At the peak of each glide, she felt complete in a way that she’d never felt before.
Her deathly grip on his shoulders relaxed. She flexed her hands, sore with clinging onto him like a limpet to a rock. She started to stroke his skin, discovering the hard shoulders and the rhythmic contraction and release of his back as he moved inside her.
“I love you, Imogen.” He rose above her, supporting his weight on his arms. Deep feeling turned his voice into a subterranean rumble. “I didn’t know I could love anyone the way I love you.”
When he plunged inside her, the new angle changed the stimulus in a most enjoyable way. “I love you, too, Caleb.” Then daringly, “I love this.”
He went still, before he spoke with such joy that she wanted to cry. “My darling…”
He increased the pace, and Imogen gasped in amazement as enjoyment spiraled into something much more profound. The pressure inside her coiled tighter. It was like racing toward the sun, faster and faster, until she couldn’t breathe. As she whirled higher, sensation gripped her whole body.
“Caleb, what’s happening to me?” she managed to stammer, while the entire world shrank to his body shifting over her and the hot waves of yearning washing through her.
“This is meant to happen, Imogen.” His voice was raw and choppy, and he rocked faster, as though he strove to cross some ultimate threshold. “Give into it.”
He penetrated so deep, surely he must touch her heart. Everything dissolved in a blast of searing white light. It was like stepping over the edge of a cliff and discovering that she’d grown wings.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, as she clenched around him. Her body ignited to dazzling flame. “That’s wonderful.”
He moved once more, then went still on a long guttural growl. A flood of heat inside her told her that he’d poured his seed into her.
Imogen quaked through to the limit of incandescent rapture, then drifted down from the outer reaches of the stars. As the peak of astounding experience ebbed, she wrapped her arms around him.
When he buried his head in the side of her neck, his lips moved in a phantom kiss. Tears prickled her eyes as tenderness flooded in to follow that earth-shattering climax. When she was so ecstatically happy, it was insane to want to blubber her heart out.
Caleb rose on his elbows, and she sucked in a huge gust of air. His eyes glittered through the darkness. When she’d first come to this room, she’d been grateful that he couldn’t see her blushes. Not to mention that she wasn’t sure, despite her boldness, that she was ready to go to his bed in a blaze of light.
Now she was sorry that she couldn’t see his expression. Not that she doubted his pleasure in what they’d just done. Or that she’d satisfied him. When he’d pumped into her, his groan had held a note of triumph.
“You’re marvelous.” When he kissed her, she tasted weariness and pleasure and love on his lips.
“Is it always like that?” she asked in wonder. “I can’t describe what just happened, but it was like listening to a choir of angels singing.”
“I’m not sure angels were involved.” Tiredness weighted his laugh, like his kiss. “I was feeling rather devilish when you came to my bed.”
“It was definitely angels. There was too much heaven in what we did for it to be anything else.”
“To answer your question, it’s never been like that for me before.”
That answer pleased her so much that she kissed him again. Silence reigned for a delightful interval.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said, after what felt like a long time.
“I’ve almost forgotten that. Anyway it was worth it for what came afterward.” She tightened her embrace. He was still inside her. The intimacy of the joining inspired more of the poignant emotion that made her feel stupidly tearful. “Let’s do it again.”
He kissed her. “I love you, Imogen. You’re all spirit and pluck.”
“I’m all yours, that’s what I am.”
“Yes, you are.” She basked in his masculine contentment.
Her hands stroked down the damp skin of his back to clutch his firm buttocks. “I love you, too.”
Caleb rolled to the side. His weight had been wonderful, but breathing now became easier. The air was thick with earthy scents. He drew her into his arms, and she rested her head on his shoulder.
Despite asking him to do all that again, she was weary. As pleasant little flutters stirred her blood, she bit back a huge yawn.
“I tired you out,” he said with the fond teasing that always turned her bones to syrup. “I didn’t think I’d see the day.”
Imogen gave a soft huff of laughter. “You – and a long day of traveling.”
“Well, that, too.”
An unwelcome thought struck her. Leaning one arm on his chest, she rose and struggled to see his face through the darkness. The candle had long ago guttered out. “Did this hurt you?”
“It’s not the same for a man.”
She made an impatient sound. “No, not that. But you’re still getting over a beating, and what we did took a lot of energy.”
He caught a hank of hair and guided her down for a brief kiss. Tiredness strengthened his American drawl. “Believe me, I wasn’t thinking about anything, except how much I wanted you.”
That was a nice answer, but it didn’t ease her worry. “What about now?”
“Maybe the odd ache here and there, but any pain was worth it to make you mine at last. The reality was so much better than my most vivid fantasies. I might have heard the angels, too.”
Gratification flooded her. “I’m so glad. I didn’t know things would get quite so strenuous.” She frowned. “Actually I’m not sure what I imagined. Not what happened.”
The hand holding her hair loosened into a caress. “I’m sure I can still rustle up a surprise or two.”
She knew that he was smiling. “Oh?”
“I want to save something for our wedding night.”
She wanted to ask him more, but another yawn took over. And while he made light of his aches and pains, he must need some rest, too. “I can’t wait.”
“Nothing to be nervous about now.”
“No. Only love to look forward to.”
“Only love from now on.” Exhaustion roughened his voice. She kissed him once more, letting her lips convey what marvelous changes he’d wrought in her tonight.
Imogen closed her eyes on a sigh and slept safe in her beloved’s arms.
Chapter 19
Imogen married Caleb in Barrowford’s pretty little stone church two days later. After the dramas and complications of their courtship, the simple morning ceremony passed with a smoothness that she could barely credit.
They’d arrived at Barrowford late the evening before the wedding, after making an early start. Imogen barely had a chance to enjoy her role as a fallen woman before she was in the curricle and on her way north again. Before leaving the inn, they’d only had time for a wash and breakfast and a few kisses.
Caleb had arranged for her to stay with the vicar and his family the night before the ceremony. She appreciated his care for her good name – to a point. The bed had felt very empty without him beside her.
The vicar and his wife gave her a warm welcome and didn’t seem to mind that Imogen had already journeyed over half of England alone in her betrothed’s company. The stark truth was that Imogen’s reputation had been in ruins from the moment she left Hamble Park without even a maid to accompany her.
In eloping with Caleb, she abandoned her old life forever. Her family would disown her. Her friends would be forbidden to speak her name. Her fall from grace would be subject to cruel gossip, once the ton discovered that she’d followed her heart and thrown away a glittering future.
Much as she loved Caleb, she’d sometimes wondered whether her choice would spark some small pang of regret.
But speaking her vows, she hadn’t suffered any nerves. From the moment she saw Caleb waiting at the altar, standing tall and straight without the aid of his stick, she’d known that she was the luckiest girl in England. And she was luckier than any girl in America, too.
When he slid the familiar gold band onto her finger, her heart filled with such happiness, that she feared she might float up to the timber vaulting on the church ceiling. From the moment that she’d met Caleb, she’d known he was the man for her. Their wedding today only placed the final seal on a decision that she’d taken months ago and never wavered from.
She’d chosen love. She’d never look back.
***
Caleb studied his bride of three hours across the remains of the fine meal that the Star and Garter had put together for the wedding breakfast. The vicar and his wife joined them in a private parlor overlooking the garden at the back of the building, as did the two genteel spinsters with whom he’d struck up a friendship. The Misses Webb were sweet and unworldly and had been more than happy to serve as witnesses for the wedding service.
Imogen charmed everyone, which didn’t surprise him at all. He found the bride as charming as everybody else did.
As she accepted heartfelt good wishes from the guests at this small gathering, she looked gorgeous. To his relief, nobody seemed to guess quite how elevated his lady’s station was. Although he’d noticed the vicar’s wife scrutinizing Imogen’s wedding dress. Caleb was no expert on fashion, but even he could see that the ice-blue silk gown screamed expensive London tailoring. He doubted that Barrowford had ever seen its like.
What a wedding day it had been. Imogen glowed with happiness. The church had been bright with flowers. And over the last few weeks, he’d become fond of the locals who had filled the congregation. In a village this size, his arrival had caused a flurry of interest. Now his marriage to a woman of obvious quality deepened the mystery. But however curious they were, the villagers hadn’t pried. Although they must guess that this was a runaway marriage.
“What are you thinking about?” Imogen murmured from where she sat beside him.
He lifted the hand he held and placed a kiss on the gold band that proclaimed her his at last. “You.”
A smug smile quirked her lips. “Well, naturally.”
Caleb’s laugh received approving nods from his four guests. They all knew he was besotted. The Webb sisters had wept sentimental tears all through the service. He’d made his vows to the sound of discreet sniffling. “And my family.”
Sympathy softened Imogen’s gaze. “You wish they were here?”
“Yes. And no. It’s wonderful that today is just for us. En masse, my kin are a rowdy lot.”
“But you love them.”
“I do indeed. When we get back to Saratoga, we’ll have a party to celebrate the wedding.”
Her grip tightened on his fingers. “I hope they like me.”
“They’ll love you because I do. They’ll also love you because you’re lovable.”
She sent him a melting look. “You’re biased.”
“True.”
The vicar rose to his feet. He clutched a glass of the champagne that Caleb had ordered in to celebrate his nuptials. “Thank you to Mr. and Mrs. Black for including us in this blessed gathering. I was honored to join these two young people together in holy matrimony. Now on behalf of Mrs. Faraday and myself, and I’m sure I speak for the Misses Webb as well, I’d like to congratulate you both on your marriage and wish you a long and happy life together.” He waved his glass in Caleb and Imogen’s direction. Caleb hid a smile as he realized that the respectable clergyman had overindulged in the expensive wine laid on for the meal. “To Mr. and Mrs. Caleb Black.”
The other three guests raised their glasses and repeated the toast with unconstrained sincerity. Moved, Caleb rose, keeping hold of Imogen’s hand. After so many months of touching her in stolen moments, he couldn’t bear to relinquish the physical link.
“Thank you, my friends. My beautiful bride and I couldn’t have received a better welcome anywhere, and we’ll always remember your generosity and kindness. I’ve wanted to marry my lovely Imogen since I fell in love with her at first sight. This is the happiest day of my life. I’m grateful to share it with you.”
“Oh, Caleb, that was perfect,” Imogen said in a husky voice. “Thank you.”
He glanced around the table and saw that all four women blinked away tears. By Harry, he felt rather choked up himself.
Mr. Faraday turned to his wife. “Now I fear I must return to my study to work on this week’s sermon. Are you ready to go, my dear?”
“You mean you’re ready for a snooze where nobody will disturb you, my love.” His wife smiled at him with tolerant fondness. When everyone laughed, the vicar looked sheepish.
“Such a pretty bride. Such a handsome couple. Such a lovely wedding,” the younger Miss Webb twittered on her way out.
“You’ve had too much champagne, Elsie,” her older sister said in disapproval, then hiccuped, which made Imogen stifle a giggle.
“Shall we retire, darling?” Caleb murmured in her ear, drawing in her fresh, floral scent.
The dark blue eyes that met his sparkled with an eagerness that reminded him that his honeymoon was about to start. Not that his craving for his bride was ever far from his mind. “That’s an excellent idea.”
He could still hardly believe that she’d been bold and brave enough to come to him two nights ago. Those hours with Imogen had been the most profound experience of his life. When he’d lost himself inside her, he felt that they became one. All the next day, he’d struggled to concentrate on driving. He’d been too inclined to drift off into distracting reveries featuring that glorious encounter.
Now they had sanction to close the door on the world and stoke the sensual fire that had already flared between them. For a man impatient to have his bride to himself, the farewells from his wedding breakfast took far too long.
At last, he and Imogen were alone and climbing the stairs to the inn’s best suite of rooms. “What a lovely, lovely day,” Imogen said, her fingers curled around his elbow.
He glanced down at her, as he turned left at the landing. “You’ve been indulging in the champagne, my darling.”
“Maybe.” Her smile was soft at the edges. “But I’m also tipsy with happiness. I can hardly believe that we’re here and together and married.”
Caleb couldn’t help smiling back. He’d been smiling like a lunatic all day. Tipsy with happiness proved an excellent state to be in. “Nobody can ever separate us again.”
Her gaze turned misty. “Oh, Caleb…”
He couldn’t resist kissing her. Her lips tasted of champagne and desire. A heady combination. When he came up for air, she was still misty-eyed.
“I hope that you always look at me the way you’re looking at me now,” he whispered.
Around them, the corridor was empty, although there was no guarantee that it would stay that way. He’d had his fill of people interrupting, when he wanted to concentrate on Imogen. Another quick kiss before he pushed the door open.
He edged her inside, still kissing her. He loved her broken moans of pleasure. While one hand tangled in her thick black hair, pinned up in an elaborate arrangement of curls, the other reached back to pull the door shut and push the bolt across.
As the kiss exploded into urgency, Caleb turned and pressed her against the door. She linked her hands behind his neck and arched breathtakingly close. Her scent, sharp with arousal, was a more powerful intoxicant than champagne, however good. He began to lift her skirts. The heavy blue silk gave a most satisfactory rustle as he crushed it in his hand.
Panting, she rested her head against the worn oak door. “Caleb, it’s daytime.”
She sounded enchantingly flustered. Her cheeks were pink with excitement, and her eyes were heavy with burgeoning hunger.
His laugh was a low rumble. “I know.”
“Don’t they talk about a wedding night?”
“We’ll need the night, too.”
Her eyes rounded with amazement – and anticipation. “I feel rather wicked.”
He laughed again. “Fie, Mrs. Black, we’re wed now. You’ve left all your wickedness behind to become a respectable married woman.”
He watched shock recede and interest blossom. “I don’t feel respectable.”
“Nor do I.” He paused. “I feel happy.”
