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His pulse started to thunder in his veins, his heart hammering in his chest, for while her back was firmly placed toward him, the mere sight of her golden hair laying on the coverlet in a simple braid made his cock harden.
Suddenly, he couldn’t move. Every speech he’d told himself until that point abruptly vanished, because all he could see was that glorious, pale hair spread out on the bed as he lost himself between her trembling thighs.
A bead of sweat broke out on his forehead, because now that the erotic vision was in his mind, it was difficult to dislodge it from taking root. He imagined lifting the hem of her virginal night dress, inch by inch, until her glorious body was revealed to his hungry gaze. Then he would lavish her perfect breasts with his tongue, before traveling farther down and giving her womanhood the same attention until she was writhing beneath him and crying out his name.
He clenched his fists at his sides and released a long, slow breath as he tried to control his raging body. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been without female companionship over the years after his return from the war. On the contrary, once he had healed, he had no trouble finding plenty of willing women to bed a heroic duke. But he ensured that any exploits were few and far between. Even if he wasn’t content on his own and had been searching for a wife, no one had kept his interest longer than the few moments of satisfaction that they gained.
But something told him it would be infinitely different with Lady Olivia, and not just because she reminded him of Marian at times.
From the very first moment he’d seen her, he had been struck by her youth and vitality, her innocent beauty—and her determination. It might not be something that she readily showed the world, but that day on the Thames when he’d helped Lord Somers pull her from the ice, he had spied it in those enchanting, green eyes. He was a man who had seen the world, who had suffered through battles filled with loss, and the pain of his personal injuries, the darkness inside of him was drawn to her light.
He refused to be the one to snuff it out. When she learned the truth, it would be bad enough. He would not add insult to injury.
With his body finally under control, he laid down and threw a hand over his forehead, intent on either staying awake all night, or finding some source of relief for his exhaustion, as there would be nothing to ease any further aches.
* * *
The ice crackedbeneath Olivia’s skates and the genuine smile of happiness she had finally been wearing started to fade. She told herself that if she could just make it back to the shoreline, she would be spared the tragedy.
She turned and immediately started to head that direction, but the fragile covering on the pond began to groan in protest. Her heart was pounding in her chest. This had happened once before, when she had been a child. She had never cared for the cold, but her sisters had convinced her that when you skated, you would quickly become warm. After a bit of an unsteady start, Olivia took to the sport naturally, at least, that’s what Isa had told her as she sailed across the smooth expanse of the pond at their estate.
But she went too far, heeding the shouts of her sister’s cautionary just moments before the ice broke and her footing was swallowed up by the water, so cold that it slipped past her clothes and touched her skin with freezing pinpricks. Any breath that was left in her lungs was expelled in a sudden rush as she disappeared below the surface.
As Olivia desperately raced for the snow-covered land just a short distance away, she knew she wasn’t going to make it. As much as she pushed herself, she couldn’t skate fast or hard enough. The shallow exterior gave way beneath her and instead of gliding along the ice, she was falling.
Suddenly, the horror returned and she struggled with a panicked flail of her arms. But there was nothing there to save her. Each breath was filled with that dreadfully, cold water and she closed her eyes, thinking that this was it. She had met her end.
She was going to die.
And then there was a moment of clarity. Would it be so terrible if she did? She could finally meet the mother she had never known, and reunite with her dearly, departed father.
Just as she had resigned herself to her fate, there was a deep voice calling from the distance, a lifeline that lured her back to reality and urged her to hang on, to fight, to take hold of his hand. The grip was strong and sure, and she was pushed back toward the land of the living once again…
“Olivia! Wake up!”
The urgent plea finally broke through her consciousness, and Olivia opened her eyes on a gasp. She tried to convince herself that when she saw Mr. Stone’s concerned face above her, it was just the nightmare trying to deceive her further. With the waning light of the fire illuminating the dark planes of his features, it brought all of the masculine lines of his face into sharp focus, almost distorting them.
“M-miles?” She stammered his name almost fearfully, only then realizing that her teeth were chattering almost uncontrollably and she was trembling.
He gently touched the side of her temple and brushed a stray strand of hair away from her forehead. “I’m here,” that familiar, raspy voice said softly.
She closed her eyes as another tremor passed through her. “C…c…cold.”
He immediately reached out and brought her close against his chest, then he began to rub her upper arms vigorously. “You’ll be better soon,” he soothed.
She nodded her head and closed her eyes as her teeth continued to chatter. It wasn’t the first time she’d struggled to keep the memory of that terrifying cold at bay. Once it held her in its grip, it was difficult to come back to reality.
Generally, one of her sisters was there to help her through the worst, but with Mr. Stone’s tender care, after a time the worst of her tremors began to cease. Her eyes slowly opened once again, and she looked up at him. Swallowing tightly, she said, “It was a nightmare.” She dropped her gaze, preferring to stare at the exposed section of his neck and upper chest, rather than into those intent, dark eyes. “When I was little, I fell through the ice on the pond at my father’s estate. Ever since then I’ve never cared for the cold.” Another shiver passed through her. “A few days ago, the same thing happened and I… suppose it brought all of that fear and panic rushing back to torment me.”
He cleared his throat. “We all have our own personal demons that haunt us. The key is to not let them keep control over us. We have to push back.”
She sighed. “I wish I knew how.”
He was silent for so long that she wasn’t sure he would even answer, but then he said, “I was injured during the Battle of Waterloo. For a time, the surgeons thought I wouldn’t ever speak again.”
She looked back into his face. “What happened?”
He was regarding her steadily, his jaw clenched tightly. “My throat was cut by an enemy’s sword.” His expression became distant. “Men were dying all around me and for a moment, I thought I would be joining them, but I refused to give up.” His vision cleared and his gaze roamed over her face. “You are stronger than you realize, Olivia. Someday the things that you allow to upset you will no longer have the power to hurt you.”
