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“I mean those trysts you remember so fondly. Did you never wonder why I stopped coming?”
A cloud came into her eyes. “I wondered why. I visited the castle once, perhaps twice, but you were away. You were away a great deal. I suppose it occurred to me that my parents had discovered our meetings and warned you off. I resolved to wait until I was older and could do as I pleased. I told myself that if I still felt the same about you when I reached my majority, and you were still free, then I would make my feelings known to you.”
He gazed into her passionate upturned face for a long moment. There was such a look in her eyes. And he understood. He understood only too well. But understanding did not mean it was in his power, or his wish, to help her.
/> “Well now you know,” he said cruelly. “You bored me and I dropped you.” He moved to stand up and then gasped as the now-familiar agony enveloped his leg. For a moment black spots danced before his eyes, and it was all he could do to stop from crying out.
“Poor Nic.” Her soft voice came through the pain. As his head cleared, he found she was kneeling beside his chair, her arms about him, holding him, with his face pillowed against her breast.
“If this is a dream then it’s a good one,” he murmured, and sighed, beginning to enjoy himself despite his discomfort.
Olivia either didn’t hear him or believed his words were induced by his suffering. “Is there nothing they can do for your leg?” she said. “Surely, in this modern age of medicine and science, there is something.”
“It has been suggested I have it rebroken,” he replied, his voice muffled by her sweet, lush flesh. “However, I don’t fancy it.”
She shuddered and held him closer. “I wouldn’t fancy it, either, but if it was the only way to make things better…”
He could feel the beating of her heart. He wondered what she’d do if he unfastened her dress and unlaced her stays and began to fondle her in the way he wanted to. If he laid her down on the soft grass and lifted her skirts and used his tongue and fingers on her until she came. And then, when she was hot and wet and ready, he’d begin the long, slow dance of pleasure.
“Olivia,” he groaned.
“Poor Nic, is it so bad?” She was stroking his hair now. In another moment she’d be kissing his brow and he’d have her on his lap, with her legs in the air.
“Olivia, I may appear to be a helpless invalid but I am a virile man. If you don’t move away from me I will prove it to you.”
He sounded dangerous, and, startled, she leaned back. He could see she was flushed, tendrils of her hair loose about her face, and her blue eyes were brighter than ever.
Nic did the only thing he could do. He showed her just how much danger she was in.
“Give me your hand.”
It said much for her innocence that she immediately held out her hand. He took her fingers in his, and before she could struggle or protest, brought them down to the hard rod between his thighs and pressed them there.
“This is what you do to me,” he rasped.
Olivia stared into his eyes, her own perfectly round.
“Now run away, little girl, before you really are lost forever,” he added, for good measure.
She moved as if to do exactly that, but once more he’d underestimated her. Instead of snatching her hand away and running, she leaned against his shoulder and looked to where her hand lay beneath his. Her gaze slid to his again, before her long, dark lashes fluttered down, and slowly, tentatively, she began to explore the bulge in his trousers.
Her fingers stroked his shaft, closed around it, and he heard her breath quicken, as if she found him exciting and fascinating. His own chest was rising and falling heavily, his limbs like lead, all sensation focused on that cursed organ between his legs as she continued to fondle and pet it.
Had he really expected her to scream and flee in terror? Or faint in outrage? He was a fool; this was Olivia he was dealing with, the woman who’d jumped into the stream so that he could save her.
“Nic.” Her breath tickled his chin and her hair tickled his face. “I feel…I feel…”
Nic knew that if he turned his head he could find her mouth, and if he wanted, he could un-button his trousers and show her how to pleasure him like the most practiced whore. And suddenly he was sickened by himself.
“Enough,” he groaned, and pushed her away.
She fell back onto the grass, giving a little cry of hurt and surprise, and he had a glimpse of her stockings and petticoats before she pushed her skirts down again, and clambered to her feet.
“Go,” he said, turning his face away and refusing to look at her. “No more visits, no more games. This nonsense is over.”
“I don’t understand what I did wrong,” she cried. “Tell me what I did wrong. At least look at me!”
Nic forced himself to turn. She was flushed and upset, her eyes still bright with desire, or was it anger? He knew he’d been insane to let her imagine, even for a moment, that there might be something between them. He was insane to think he could frighten her away.
