It's Always Been You Page 11

  Today, his beauty didn’t scare her. Instead, it filled her with giddy joy. She gathered up that joy, retrieved the coffee tray, and made herself walk into the room.

  He didn’t wake when she set the tray on the table next to the bed, so Kate took that as permission to look at him. He was in her bed, after all. Surely that conveyed some small degree of possession to her. And how could she not look? His shoulders were so wide and stroked with mysterious hollows. The secrets of his body called to her fingertips, begging for exploration. But when she looked to his face, she found his eyes open and watching her with sharp intensity.

  “Good morning,” she said before she could give in to the impulse to jump up and run away.

  He rose up on his elbows. “I’m sorry. I meant to wake before dawn. Your neighbors . . .”

  “We’ll need to take care when you leave. A few titillating rumors are one thing, but the scandal of a man stealing away in the morning . . .”

  “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  “I am the one who asked you to stay, Aidan.”

  He paused in the act of sitting up. “Yes,” he said softly. “You did. And nothing could have made me leave.”

  She tried to stop a smile and failed. “Nothing but the morning?”

  Aidan frowned as she handed him a cup of coffee. “Nothing but a meeting with the shipbuilder at nine A.M., but perhaps I can send a note to Penrose and have it postponed.” When she sat down on the edge of the bed, Aidan propped himself against the wall and watched her.

  “It’s enough that you stayed the night.”

  His gaze caught between heat and wariness. “Enough for whom, exactly?”

  Kate ducked her head and smiled at her hands. Yes, that was heat she saw in his eyes. And it had definitely been life she’d felt in her veins. Her pulse beat a tattoo that urged her to move faster along this path. “It was enough,” she finally whispered. “For now.”

  When she looked up, his gaze was sharp as a blade. A blade that wanted to cut the seams of her clothing and remove it from her body.

  “You’re right,” Aidan said, the words so soft they floated toward her. “It was enough. I’ve never done that.”

  “Done what?”

  “Slept in a woman’s bed.”

  No, that couldn’t be right. She shook her head.

  “Slept,” he said, his voice dropping even further, “in your bed.”

  He’d been with other women. He must have been. But she understood what he was telling her. He had not cared enough to spend the night in their beds. But he’d stayed in hers.

  He could be mine. The fierce knowledge took hold of her like a ruthless hand. He could belong to me. Again.

  Power flooded her veins. She wanted him. And she need make no other decision besides that. She had just told him that sleeping was enough, but in that moment it became a terrible lie. And if she wanted him, now was the time. He’d said himself that he was leaving for London soon. Perhaps even today. But right now he was in her bed.

  “You’re right, though,” she whispered. “It wasn’t enough, was it?” All the power in the world could not convince her to meet his gaze at that moment. Instead, she watched his chest expand with a deep breath. She wanted to touch it. She wanted to know the taste of his skin.

  She forced her eyes up, made herself meet the green heat in his gaze. And then she said the words. “It’s only seven. Would you lie down again?”

  His brow fell, his eyes clouding with confusion, but he didn’t ask what she meant. Instead he handed her the half-empty cup, and slipped back down to the mattress.

  Kate couldn’t pause to think, or fear would stop her. So she put her hands to his chest and spread her fingers wide.

  His ribs eased down as he sighed. The long slow exhalation seemed to go on forever. His lips were parted, his eyes dark with question. He didn’t know what she wanted from him, and she could understand that. She didn’t know what she wanted either, aside from the feel of his skin under her hands.

  She slid her fingers down, feeling the warmth, the contrast of smooth skin and crisp hair. Down farther, over the muscles of his belly. She watched as they jumped beneath her touch.

  Her taut shoulders relaxed by slow degrees as she fell into fascination. He was so hot. So alive. Her hands wandered all over his torso, from his stomach to his shoulders, over the dip of his breastbone and the swell of his muscles and the steely curve of his ribs.

  She became lost in her exploration, nearly forgetting, oddly enough, that he was there. Not even noticing his deepening breaths and clenching hands.

  “Katie,” he finally said, her name a low rasp.

  Blinking from her trance, she saw the tortured pain on his face, and she smiled. “Will you touch me, Aidan?”

  “Ah, God,” he moaned, and framed her face in his hands. He pulled her down, covering his body with hers, and guided her mouth to his.

  Kate groaned when his tongue entered her. She scrambled higher on his body so that she could slant her mouth over his and kiss him with all the yearning that coursed through her veins. Aidan drank her up with just as much urgency.

  His hands roamed down her shoulders, over her back, to her hips. She settled her knees on either side of his hips, and her body went heavy and hot. Every muscle, every inch of skin burned as his tongue thrust into her, a rhythm she knew. A rhythm she wanted.

  Kate reached for her skirts to ruck them up. When she was settled more soundly against him, she broke from the kiss and sat up.

  The sight of him beneath her hit her like a brutal hand. His face was flushed, his eyes glittered. His expression struck some beautiful line between tenderness and cruelty. And above the edge of her skirts, he was naked and so very lovely.

  Determined not to lose her courage, Kate inched down and reached for the fastening of his trousers.

  “No,” he said, startling her. “No. It won’t be like this. Not this time.”

  “What—” she started, but Aidan was easing her up, off the bed. “No,” she said as he rose as well.

  But then he eased her around and he reached for the buttons of her morning gown. “Oh,” she sighed. “I can do it.”

  “No.”

  That simple word stilled her hands. She watched as he slowly unfastened each button, then spread the dress down her shoulders and off her arms. She stared at the pale skin above her white chemise. Her dress fell, pooling around her feet.

  Her corset was laced loosely so that Kate could hook the clasps herself. Aidan popped the first hook free.

  “Wait,” she whispered. She hadn’t looked at her own body in so long, and now she realized what a dreadful idea this was.

  His hands froze. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s so . . . It’s so bright.”

  “Oh, Katie,” he murmured. “Close your eyes.” So she did, only because she didn’t want this to stop.

  She kept her eyes closed as her corset loosened. She squeezed them tightly shut when his hands drew the shoulders of her chemise down. When he untied the delicate string of her drawers, his knuckles pressed the naked skin of her belly, and she began to tremble. Linen caressed her thighs as it slid to the floor.

  And then the room pressed into her whole body. The cool air. The wisps of wind when Aidan moved. She could even feel the light on her, naming her a woman nearly thirty, a whole world away from the young girl she’d once been.

  “I’ve waited a lifetime for this,” he said. His hands gripped her hips, and she opened her eyes to find him kneeling on the floor before her. Wetness rushed to the place between her legs as Aidan pressed his open mouth to her ribs. His tongue stroked up, up, until it brushed the curve of her breast.

  Kate felt her throat open on a sigh. This was . . . It was beautiful. Even in the light, it was perfect. Yes, her breasts were heavier now, but Aidan’s mouth worshipped the flesh. Yes, her hips were wider, but they served the needful purpose of giving his hands the perfect curve to grasp.

  His mouth closed over the d
eep rose flush of her nipple, and Kate cried out. He sucked at her, and a shimmering, vibrating tension began to pulse deep inside her, spreading through her body like rings of water until her fingers trembled and her skin buzzed.

  By the time he lifted his head and his green eyes rose, Kate was caught in a storm of her beating heart and straining lungs. She could do nothing but stare down at his flushed lips in wonder. How could such a simple touch of his mouth draw her sex so desperately tight? Now she remembered why she’d been so foolish all those years ago. Because being foolish with Aidan had been worth any price, any risk. Because she’d been alive with him.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said. “I could never have imagined how lovely.”

  His hands turned her hips, and urged her down to the bed. The linens were cool and crisp against her backside, while Aidan’s hands were hot as they slipped down her thighs. In that moment, she decided there was no more vulnerable place in the world than the inside of a woman’s thighs. She shook as his thumbs trailed lower. He parted her legs and bent his head.

  “Aidan!” she gasped, trying to scoot back.

  “Let me. Please.”

  Kate shook her head, but he wasn’t watching her, and she let her knees be eased apart. She let him slide between them, let his mouth touch her there.

  “Ah!” she cried as his tongue touched her most secret spots. She felt each swipe of his tongue, each circle it traced. Pleasure spread over her like cracks in glass. She cried out raggedly as Aidan’s mouth rubbed again between her legs, finding a little point of pleasure over and over.

  He’d mentioned this once to her, in a whispered, breathless conversation. He’d told her of the things that lovers might do after they married. But this was nothing she’d imagined. It felt as though a wicked heart was beating deep inside her, separate from any other body she’d ever known.

  Everything inside her clenched tighter and tighter until it burst into a thousand pieces of shimmering light. Her nails clutched the sheets as she fought to anchor herself to the world. Finally a sob was dragged from her throat, a deep-throated cry, and Aidan ceased his torment.

  She was crying. She knew she was, and all she could do was let the tears slide down her temples and try not to make a sound. Aidan pressed delicate kisses along her thigh, and she tried to calm herself.

  She felt the slide of his body against her legs as he rose. Then the shift of fine wool on her skin. When she opened her eyes, he stood naked and beautiful above her. His eyes met hers directly, meaningfully, and she took what he offered and looked at his body, still and proud, yet somehow vulnerable in the morning light. Her eyes lingered on his wide shoulders, the hard plane of his chest, the long stretch of muscle in his legs. She even let herself stare at his jutting manhood for a brief, thrilling moment.

  He went to his knees beside the bed again. He pulled her hips closer; her knees edged farther apart. When the head of his shaft touched her open sex, her body jerked, the slightest touch of him against her jarring and painfully intense. Aidan went still. He was holding his breath, waiting, wanting. Finally, she breathed again, and he pressed forward.

  There was none of that pushing, that forcing that was all she could remember of the joining of bodies. His body slid into hers as if it were coming home, as if it remembered her and the way to her soul. It was sweet and slow and like nothing she’d ever felt.

  She took him inside in a smooth slide until he was so deep, filling her up, filling a void she’d forgotten existed.

  “Oh,” was all she could say. Aidan held motionless against her, and now he was the one whose panting filled the room. “Oh,” she sighed again, “Aidan.”

  He slid his hands up to curve around her ribcage and then up to cup her breasts. Her moan turned into a sharp cry when he lightly pinched her nipples, sending a bolt down through to the core of her. She felt her passage tighten around him, felt his pleasure at this when he pushed even deeper.

  She squeezed her thighs as he pulled back, gliding out and out until her body held only the tip of him. His hands fell to grip her hips and he pushed in again in one strong motion, sending waves of satisfaction through her belly.

  “God, Kate,” he ground out as he found a long, slow rhythm.

  Her body registered so many things at once: the heat of his skin against her thighs, the pale play of light over their bodies, the musky scent of their sex.

  She moaned and threw her head back, lost in the way he filled her up and set her free at the same time. It felt good. Better than anything she’d felt ten years before. It felt perfect, and she knew then that she’d never regret this.

  His strokes quickened. His fingers tightened on her hips. Yes, she thought. Yes, she wanted to make him shake and shatter just as she had. Kate drew her knees higher and felt him settle into that last tiny space between them.

  “Ah, Christ,” he moaned. He took her faster, harder, and Kate found herself crying out when he shouted his release. He slid from her body as his muscles jerked, and his seed splashed hot against her belly as he climaxed.

  She covered his hands with her own, weaving her fingers between his and holding tight.

  “Katie,” he rasped, bowing his head as he tried to catch his breath.

  She found herself smiling stupidly up at him, unable to control her joy.

  When Aidan opened his eyes, his expression slid from fierceness to surprise, then he met her smile with one of his own. “Well, then.”

  A giddy laugh rose up and danced from her throat. “I had no idea, Aidan. I don’t remember it being so . . .” She shook her head in wonder.

  “I daresay it was nothing like that before. I was very young and very nervous.”

  “Um,” she sighed happily. Her limbs were weighted, heavy with weary satisfaction.

  “I’d lie down with you and cover you with kisses, but I don’t think there’s room in this bed.”

  “I don’t need more kisses,” she sighed.

  He raised an incredulous eyebrow.

  She could only laugh. “I’ve had everything I need, and we can’t afford to lie abed regardless. The day is starting.”

  His smile turned tender. His eyes warmed. “Yes, it’s just begun.” Aidan rose, and rinsed out the cloth he’d used to dry her tears the night before. While he dressed, Kate washed herself, conscious of the strangeness of their shared space. And all she could think was one word: mine. He’s mine again.

  Foolish. And ridiculous. And not even true. But still, she told it to herself like a secret no one else could know. He is mine again. For this day at least. He’s mine.

  She drew her chemise over her head and then simply sat there. She didn’t move. She couldn’t. She listened to the thump from her parlor as he tugged his boots on, then the rustle of fabric as he donned his coat. A short while later, he stepped back into the bedroom and even the black silk of his cravat was respectably arranged.

  He smiled at her, running a hand through his mussed hair.

  “You look no different,” she said, marveling at that. She felt like a different person altogether.

  “Then you’ve the eyes of a fool, Kate,” he said quietly.

  Her heart stopped. And when she looked again, he was right. She saw sorrow and joy in his eyes, mixed together and turning into the depths of him. She saw his soul unshuttered, and she wondered if he could see the same in her.

  “Will you come again tonight?”

  “More foolishness,” he said, tempering the words with a smile. “I planned to wander the alley like a ghost if you didn’t invite me in.”

  “Ah,” she said, “wailing and gnashing your teeth?”

  “Yes, and rending my garments just in case you unbarred the door.” He kissed the laughter from her lips and offered a gallant bow. “I’ll show myself out the back door, shall I?”

  “You make it sound so sordid.”

  His smile slipped away. “No,” he said quietly. “Never that. Not with you.”

  She listened closely to the slow clomp
of his boots on the steps and caught the strain of a cheerfully whistled tune as the door opened and closed. She should be worried that he’d be seen. She should feel guilty for what they’d done.

  But she couldn’t summon up even a glimmer of regret.

  Chapter 15

  What had seemed so simple in the morning grew into a mass of tangled anxieties in the afternoon.

  First, Gulliver Wilson had arrived on a gust of cold, damp air. She’d unlocked the door three hours before and this was only the second time it had opened. The first visitor had been a kitchen boy sent out into the icy streets to pick up an order. A slow day, indeed.

  Kate tried her best to smile. Would this day never end? “Mr. Wilson.”

  “Mrs. Hamilton,” he intoned arrogantly. “I wish to speak to you on a serious matter.”

  To speak to me, she noted derisively, not with me. She kept her mouth closed to avoid saying something she’d regret.

  “It has come to my attention that you’ve been entertaining a certain strange gentleman without any sort of chaperone and with no care for your reputation.”

  Kate’s face flushed with anger and worry. Had he seen Aidan sneaking from her home? “What do you mean?” she made herself ask calmly.

  His whiskers quivered when he cleared his throat. “I saw a strange gentleman return you from a walk yesterday evening, madam.”

  Thank God. Her worry burned away and set her anger free. “I can assure you, sir, that who I speak with on the street is absolutely none of your business.”

  “Of course it is my business!”

  An outraged laugh slipped from her throat. “How so?”

  “I am a respected member of this community and I cannot countenance this type of behavior. I’ll not be able to offer you the prestige of my friendship if you continue to behave like a . . . a . . .”

  “A what, sir?”

  “A harlot!”

  “Mr. Wilson.” Her clenched teeth muffled the words. “I believe you know where the door is. Please see yourself through it. And don’t bother returning.”

  His square, fleshy face turned a rather gorgeous shade of purple as he struggled to speak, his mouth opening and closing several times before he found his tongue. “If your husband knew—”