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Chapter Sixteen
December 25, 1817
Christmas morning, just after midnight
Felicity trembled as the full meaning of his words sank into her love-addled brain. She paused in her intent to touch the skin of his chest and raised her gaze to his. “Surely you don’t wish to…” Her words trailed off, for what else could that wicked gleam in his blue eyes mean?
“I do indeed,” he answered as he peeled off his gloves and let them drop to the floor. “Unless you want to wait until after we’ve spoken vows. I can easily send you to your bed untouched right now.”
Oh, he was a gentleman in every way, and her heart squeezed at his caring. “When will we wed?” she asked in a hushed voice, for each beat of her heart called out to him.
“That’s entirely up to you. Five weeks if you want the banns read, or by the New Year should you want me to pay for a common license, it matters not to me, but this decision will remain yours.” One by one, he plucked the pins from her hair, including the one with the enamel rose. They all fell to the carpeting except that one, which he rested on the top of a nearby table. When her tresses tumbled down her back and about her shoulders, a shuddering sigh left his throat. “I have waited for what seems like an eternity to see your hair.” He helped urge it into waves with his fingers.
“Does it live up to expectations? It’s much too curly for my liking, and rather long…”
“It’s magnificent, like a waterfall of gold.” The length brushed the base of her spine. He tangled his fingers into it. “Just another reason to adore you. Now, about when you might wish to wed?”
Both scenarios held their own advantages, but at the end of the day, she would have him. Memories of that afternoon they’d exchanged heated kisses while she sat on her father’s desk danced through her mind. The heat they brought with them was difficult to deny, for she’d dreamed often of repeating that sort of embrace. For so long she’d been an unwanted spinster firmly on the shelf, and a woman grown besides. She had no one left in the world, and as Bartholomew had said, this was her choice.
It was time to usher in a new way of living—of thinking—into her existence. Candlelight winked off the ruby glimmering on her finger. The feel of his hands in her hair, combing it was unrivaled. Slowly, she nodded, and smiled at him. “Yes, let us be as scandalous as we can this night. I’ve lived by society’s rules all my life. This is a gift to myself, and ever since you first kissed me, I’ve wondered about just this.”
“With me or another man?” He batted her hands away and then shrugged out of the black evening jacket that had shown his shoulders to perfection.
“You,” she admitted with blazing cheeks and butterflies fluttering through her lower belly. “Once you swaggered into that ship cabin and gave me a rude dressing down, it’s always been you.” Had she really told this man about one of her innermost thoughts?
“How darling you are, and how tempting.” The captain wrenched off his waistcoat and tossed it to the floor. His cuffs, collar, and cravat quickly followed.
A tiny thread of cold disappointment went through her chest even as heat rose to see him standing there in his thin lawn shirt. “Oh, I’d so hoped to divest you of your clothing.”
His low laughter was intimate and thrilling in the dim light. “There will be plenty of other times, love.”
“Perhaps.” But the urge to see his skin drew her onward. Not caring if it made her seem a wanton, Felicity yanked his shirt tails from his trousers. Then she shoved up the fabric until she could look her fill over the expanse of his chest. He assisted her by removing the garment entirely. “Merciful heavens,” she breathed and ran her fingers through the mat of crisp hair.
A hum of approval left his throat. When she must have shown confusion, he laughed again and maneuvered himself until he stood behind her. “Did you think this would be the only time we indulged in pleasures of the flesh?”
What had she thought? Tingles of desire tripped down her spine when he wrapped an arm about her middle “I… I…” She huffed out a breath of frustration. “Just kiss me, Captain.”
“In good time.” Instead of claiming her mouth again, he pressed his lips to the crook of her shoulder. The heat of him, the scent of him worked at her undoing. “A proper fiancé will take the time to woo his lady.” As he held her close to his body, he caressed his free hand up and down her right arm. Gooseflesh trailed in his wake.
It was torture what he did, dragging his lips over her nape. The warmth of his breath skated over her skin to enhance her awareness of him. When he danced his fingers along her shoulder, her collarbone, her own breath caught. “Bartholomew, I…” What? Was two seconds away from melting into a puddle at his feet? Couldn’t wait to see him in all his naked glory? She shivered from the delicious thought of that, but when he rested both hands on her shoulders, eased the fabric of her short sleeves down so the bodice began to sag, her attention slammed back to the present.
“Shall I continue?” He followed the inquiry with a light nip to her earlobe.
Surprise and desire shot down her spine. “Most certainly.”
“Good. If what I do frightens you, tell me and I’ll cease or try something else.” He pressed a line of baby fine kisses to the side of her neck while tracing her bodice with his fingers.
Anticipation buzzed along her nerve endings. All too soon those talented hands would explore her body. Another shiver went through her and when the captain dipped a finger beneath the fabric, she sucked in a breath. He circled her nipple with the pad of his finger, around and around, then rubbed it over the hardening tip. A chuckle of satisfaction escaped him as she moaned, jerked in his hold.
“Easy.” He withdrew his hand only to cup her breasts through the gown. “Like the other day, I won’t hurt you.”
“I know. It’s just… surprising… you being here, touching me, and the way that touch makes me feel.” A sigh left her throat as he kneaded those two mounds of flesh, brushed her fingers over her aching, sensitive peaks.
“How do you feel, Felicity?”
The way he said her name, in that sensual baritone, added another layer to the intoxication he built within her. “Like I’ll burst from my skin and fly about the room.”
His chuckles reverberated deep in her chest. “Give it time and you will.” Slowly, perhaps to give her time to acclimate to what he was doing, Bartholomew shoved the sleeves down her arms, which tugged the bodice of the gown lower and lower until her breasts were bared. “No shift or stays?” Delight wove through the question.
