Wedding Fever. Lee Wilkinson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ one side, on a curved, slightly raised dais, were a stripped pine wardrobe, a dressing-table, a blanket chest and a large divan.

      The air was cold and held the faint mustiness of a place that had been shut up for some time, but already crackling flames were devouring the kindling and licking around the pile of split logs in the stove.

      ‘Like it?’ Nick asked as he carried in their cases.

      ‘Love it,’ she answered lightly, trying to ignore the tension between them—a sexual tension which had been growing ever since she’d agreed to come here. ‘Incidentally, the bathroom surprised me.’

      He grinned briefly. ‘I’m old enough to prefer a certain standard of comfort.’

      ‘But how do you manage it?’

      ‘The water’s pumped from a well, and bottled gas provides heating and lighting. Speaking of which...’

      Dusk was falling rapidly, and, after bending to light a taper, Nick touched it to the gas mantles, which lit with little plops and blossomed into yellow flowers. That done, he drew the heavy curtains over the windows, making the place cosy and intimate.

      ‘I’ll cook tonight,’ he said. ‘Your turn tomorrow. But first we’ll have a drink.’

      While she stood by the stove, enjoying the blaze, he brought a bottle of Chablis from the larder, and, having opened it, poured two glasses and handed one to her.

      As she accepted it his fingers brushed hers, and she caught her breath audibly.

      Their eyes met and held. Something deep and primitive flared in his—a look that was at once a challenge and a statement of intent.

      She knew without a shadow of doubt that if she didn’t want him, now was the time to make that plain. All she had to do was break eye contact and step back.

      But she did want him—with a passion that made her blood run through her veins as hot and impatient as molten lava. Green eyes drowned in blue, she took a step forward.

      Removing the glass from her nerveless fingers, he set it carefully on the table.

      But, instead of leading her to the bed, he laid her down in front of the stove with a cushion beneath her dark head, and, stretching out beside her, kissed her eyes and her throat and her mouth with a passionate hunger that turned her very bones to water.

      She was his to take then, and he must have known that, but, keeping his own desire leashed, slowly, unhurriedly, with enjoyment and finesse, he set out to rouse hers to fever-pitch.

      The fire-glow gilded her creamy skin as he slowly undressed her, savouring each new discovery, erotically exploring her exquisite, sensuous body with eyes and hands and mouth.

      High, perfectly shaped breasts with dusky nipples firmed enticingly to his touch, offering themselves as tempting morsels for a hungry mouth. A slender waist asked to be stroked and spanned by two strong hands. Curving hips invited leaner hips to fit into their seductive cradle.

      ‘You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,’ he told her huskily as he stripped off his own clothes. ‘You enchant me.’

      Her body responded to his without shame, arching to his touch, welcoming him, holding nothing back.

      He was a skilful, considerate lover, and, though she was a virgin, there was no pain, only a joyous acceptance and a growing, spiralling delight that finally ended in a climax so intense that she felt as if her body had imploded into a white-hot core of pure sensation.

      She was lying in his arms, her head on his shoulder, her heartbeat and breathing slowly returning to normal, when he queried softly, ‘First time, Raine?’

      Wondering if he preferred experienced women, she asked, a shade hesitantly, ‘Do you mind?’

      ‘Mind? I feel like a king!’

      

      After that first rapturous coming together they made love morning, noon and night, as though they were on their honeymoon, leaving the bed they shared only to shower or to eat, to take an occasional walk or a canoe trip on the lake.

      Nick called her, ‘My green-eyed witch,’ and told her how lovely she was and how much he wanted her.

      He never said the three words Raine was longing to hear, but it was only a matter of time, she felt sure—just an initial reluctance to admit to the deepest and most binding human emotion of all.

      Neither wanted that idyllic week to end, but when, all too soon, the weekend came, he sighed and said they had to return.

      They got an early start. During the journey home Nick seemed silent and abstracted, but, transported by love, Raine travelled back to Boston on cloud nine, deliriously happy with the present, glowingly confident about the future.

      On reaching Mecklenburg Place, they found that Harry and Ralph had gone to a ball game and that an urgent message from Nick’s secretary was waiting.

      ‘Damn!’ he muttered, frowning. ‘I need to talk to you—to tell you something—but I’d better go into the office first. There are some important papers I have to look through and sign.’

      Taking both her hands in his, he gave them a squeeze. ‘I shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours at the most. Will you be all right on your own?’

      ‘Of course.’ She smiled at his concern.

      He claimed her mouth in a hard, almost savage kiss, and, before she could even kiss him back, he was gone.

      Wondering what he wanted to tell her, hoping she knew, she went up to her room and unpacked the small case she’d taken to Maine, blushing a little to think how few clothes she’d worn for most of the time—how few either of them had worn.

      She was on her way back to the big, sunny living room when Mrs Espling appeared in the hall and asked pleasantly, ‘Can I get you anything, Miss Marlowe? A tray of tea, perhaps?’

      ‘Oh, thank you. That would be lovely.’

      Raine was just pouring a second cup and finishing one of the housekeeper’s delicious blueberry muffins when, without warning, the door burst open.

      Looking up, a glad smile on her lips, she was surprised to see a slender, dark-haired woman, perhaps a year or two older than herself.

      ‘Hi!’ the newcomer said cheerfully. ‘I’m Tina. You must be Nick’s cousin. When he spoke to me on the phone he told me you and your father were coming over... Is he home?’

      ‘No, he’s gone into the office.’

      ‘On a Saturday!’ The bright brown eyes clouded with disappointment. ‘Any idea how long he’ll be?’

      ‘He said possibly a couple of hours.’

      ‘Then I’ll have plenty of time to go home and unpack.’

      ‘Do you live far away?’ Raine asked politely.

      ‘Just next door—’ Tina dropped into the nearest chair, obviously СКАЧАТЬ