His hands shook as he framed her face between his palms, bent his head, and kissed her, a kiss so soft and sweet it nearly broke her heart. Reaching up, he began to pull the pins from her hair, then he combed the heavy curls out with his fingers.
"I can't make love to you—not the way you mean. I gave your father my word." But he kissed her again and began to unbutton her clothes and she reached down to unbutton his.
Outside the window, the storm was moving in. Lightning cracked and she heard the roll of thunder. The black night seemed to echo the darkness creeping into her soul.
Caleb removed the rest of her clothes and the last of his own. In the glow of the lamp flickering beside the bed, she could see the bands of muscles across his chest and she ached to touch them. She watched the way they bunched and thickened as he moved and she yearned to press her mouth against his skin. His stomach was flat, and ridges of muscle rippled in the faint, golden lamplight. His hips were narrow, his buttocks round, and his long, thick shaft jutted out from its nest of protective dark curls.
God, he was so beautiful. And she loved him so much.
Caleb lifted her again, carried her over to his tall four-poster bed, and set her down on the edge of the mattress. Propping an arm on each side of her, he bent and kissed her, a long, lingering kiss laced with the faint, sweet taste of brandy. She could feel the heat of his mouth, the softness of his lips, and an ache throbbed inside her. He was leaving. In a few short hours, he would be gone.
Caleb kissed her long and deep. He took and took and at the same time, the pleasure he gave was nearly unbearable. He kissed the side of her neck, trailed soft, open-mouthed kisses over her shoulders, bent his head and took one of her breasts into his mouth. Desire washed through her. Love for him welled up so strong it nearly made her weep.
Beneath his mouth, her nipples pebbled, turned diamond-hard and he rolled them around on his tongue. "Like berries," he whispered. "I shall forever remember the taste."
He cupped them almost reverently, massaged them as he claimed her mouth again, took her deeply with his tongue.
"I won't break my word," he said as he knelt between her legs, but she could see the hunger in his eyes, the hot desire and something else, something that matched the longing in her own.
She felt his mouth on her belly, his tongue in her navel and waves of pleasure washed over her. He eased her back on the bed and moved lower, pressed his mouth into the curls at the apex of her legs. Lee gasped as he parted her slick, woman's flesh and began to taste her there. It felt as if a torch had set fire to her blood.
"Caleb!" She tried to sit up but he coaxed her back down, began to kiss her again.
"I won't come inside you," he whispered. "But there are other ways that I can make love to you."
And so he began to show her. Sliding his palms beneath her hips, he lifted her against his mouth. He caressed her with his lips and his tongue until her body was on fire for him, until thoughts of Caleb consumed her, until she began to whimper his name. She fisted her hands in his thick brown hair, but he did not stop. Just held her hips immobile as he laved and tasted, stroked her again and again. There was reverence in the way he held her, in the way he gave and gave and did not stop. She reached her pinnacle thinking about him, wishing he were inside her. Pleasure poured through her. Even then he did not stop, not until she peaked again.
She was limp and sobbing when the sweet torture ended. Lifting her up, he settled her on the bed, then lay down beside her. He was still so hard she could see a faint pulse beating in the rigid length resting on his belly and she realized that what he had done was a gift.
Outside the window, the storm went on, a mirror of her own turbulent emotions. Lightning flashed as she reached out to touch him, wanting to give him the same gift he had given to her.
Caleb caught her wrist. "It's all right. You don't have to—"
"I want to, Caleb," she said softly. Bending over him, she tasted him, felt the smooth, rigid texture of his hardness, took him into her mouth. Her hair swung forward, pooled against his groin, and she heard his sharp intake of breath. She wasn't sure exactly what to do, but when she felt the tension sweep through his body, when she heard him whisper her name, she thought that perhaps it didn't matter. She cupped him and tasted him, caressed him more deeply, and in minutes he reached release.
She could feel the beating of his heart as he pulled her down beside him in the bed and nestled her against his chest. "I don't want to leave you," he said. "If there were any other way…"
She pressed her trembling fingers over his lips and ignored the painful lump in her throat. Caleb's arms tightened protectively around her and she felt the brush of his lips against her hair.
I love you, she thought. I love you so much. But she didn't say it. It wouldn't be fair to either one of them.
"I don't want to fall asleep," she said instead. "I want these last few hours with you." But she was exhausted from the tiring ride to London and he had pleasured her well. As hard as she fought to stay awake, sleep crept over her.
When dawn broke over the horizon and her eyes slowly opened, Caleb was gone. Inside her chest, her heart simply shattered.
24
« ^ »
Lee's return to Kinleigh Hall the following day went unremarked. If her father knew where she had been, if he noticed the despair in her eyes or the weary defeat that weighed down her shoulders, he made no comment and she would forever be grateful. Caleb was gone from her life. She would make a fresh start without him. Her father seemed to read her thoughts and he was determined to help her.
In that regard, he continued the paperwork that would make her Lee Montague, daughter of a marquess and nearly untouchable by Society. Though she never intended to go forward among the ton, she was thankful for the cloak of protection her father had placed around her.
She hadn't realized how strong it would be until she received a letter from Oliver Wingate, asking for permission to call on her at Kinleigh Hall.
"I think you should receive him," her father said. "You will establish very clearly once and for all, exactly who you are."
She smiled. "Lee Montague, you mean?"
His mouth curved into a smile that resembled her own. "Exactly so, and the daughter of a peer."
And so she had received the colonel for an evening quite different from those they had shared at Parklands. As if in reminder of those times, a note arrived the following day from Andrew Mondale, suggesting a rendezvous, his intentions far less sterling than Wingate's. Lee simply ignored it.
The only person who stayed away was her aunt. Aunt Gabriella had written a lengthy letter, explaining that for Lee's sake, she would not come to Kinleigh Hall. Gabriella wished her every happiness and said that once Lee was settled securely in her new life, they could begin to discreetly see each other again. She had been so happy when Lee had chosen Caleb. Lee hoped she wouldn't despair at this latest turn of events.
In her aunt's stead, Elizabeth Sorenson, Lady Rotham, came to call and Lee was thrilled to see her. She was even more thrilled to learn that Beth and Charles had reconciled.
"We're in love, Lee." The countess laughed. "I feel like I'm twenty again. Charles is a wonderful husband and a marvelous father. I never would have believed it but he loves me. He proves it every day."
"I'm so glad for you, Elizabeth. You deserve to be happy."
"I hated being married, Lee. I believed it was a life of penance, but I was wrong. Sharing a life with someone who cares for you… it changes everything. It makes you feel complete."
Lee tried not to think of Caleb, and Elizabeth made a point not to mention him. No one did. It was as if he had never existed. Like everyone else, in an effort to protect her battered heart, Lee tried to pretend he never had.