The Unthinkable Read online

  But he wouldn’t let her. Huntingdon had waited for this night for a long time. He would not be denied without good reason. Didn’t she realize that tonight would be the final step in the long journey of bringing them together again?

  Only when they’d made love would the closeness return, the closeness that had been missing from his life since she’d disappeared. The comfortable intimacy that he’d never been able to find with another woman.

  He knew he could make her remember. And then they could begin to forget the past. He did not delude himself to think that forgiveness would come quickly, but sharing a bed would go a long way in reestablishing the closeness that they’d once shared. He believed it with every fiber of his being, and once she was in his arms again, she would see it, too.

  Desire had simmered between them from the first moment they’d set eyes on each other again at Prinny’s fete. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. How could she deny it after what had nearly happened in the greenhouse? He could have taken her then; her passion had burned as hot as his.

  He’d learned much in pleasing a woman over the past five years. Enough to make her beg if he wanted to.

  A slow smile spread over his face. “I won’t need to force anything.”

  Genie watched the arrogance play across his handsome features, so sublimely confident in his skills as a lover. How like a man to think that a few tricks in bed were all that it took to please a woman. Not realizing that there was something much more important missing between them—the connection that sparked true intimacy and love. Didn’t he recall how happy she had been that first time, even though his “skills” were rather limited?

  Lust had its limitations as she’d learned in the greenhouse. It would take more than passion to make her forget the visceral memory of that vile man trying to jab himself inside her.

  Genie had accepted her fate. Huntingdon was determined to have her. Determined to make this a marriage in truth. She had not really expected to dissuade him. There would be no escape from her duty this night. Somehow, she’d have to find the strength to get through it. And not allow him to see just how damaged she truly was.

  It was going to happen sometime; she might as well get it over with. And there was a small part of her—a very small part of her—that hoped his arrogance was deserved. That maybe he would be enough.

  She slid back under the covers, silently praying for strength.

  He studied her face, but she held her expression impassive. Apparently satisfied that she’d come to her senses, he bent down and placed a tender kiss on her lips. “I’ll take it nice and slow.”

  She didn’t respond.

  His finger traced the side of her face, almost lovingly. “If you want me to stop, Genie, I will. But give me a chance.”

  Something flickered in her. Perhaps a shadow of hope. She met his anxious stare. The partial capitulation surprised her. She did not doubt his word. If she asked, he would stop.

  But she would not ask again. They were married and despite the terms of the marital contract, Genie knew it would be better if she gave him no cause to annul the marriage. Their marriage would have to be consummated at some point. And maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t want him to stop.

  Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded.

  He stood up from the side of the bed and perfunctorily began to remove his clothes. Her eyes widened. “What are you d-d-doing?”

  He grinned. “I would think that was obvious.”

  She blushed, no doubt to her roots.

  “We no longer have to worry about being interrupted, Genie. There is a certain freedom in being man and wife.”

  Despite her embarrassment, she could not look away. She’d never seen his bare chest before. She admitted being exceedingly curious as to how the broad shoulders and muscled chest that so gloriously filled a jacket would appear unadorned. Sensing her interest, his movements slowed, turning less mechanical. The makings of a sly smile curved his generous lips.

  He started with his complicated cravat, untying and alternately unwrapping the long sections of linen that bound his neck. Next he moved to his waistcoat, carefully unbuttoning the cream-colored buttons that matched the fabric of the elaborately embroidered garment. Shrugging it off his shoulders, it fell in the growing pile of clothing pooling on the floor.

  Genie still couldn’t see anything beyond the elaborate ruffles of his linen shirtsleeves. Frustrated, she must have made a sound because he looked at her and chuckled.

  His long, tanned fingers moved to the ties at his neck and stopped. Genie’s breath caught. Her fear was temporarily forgotten. The anticipation of what was to come only increased the titillation of watching him undress. She felt warm and soft all over. From the smug smile on his face he knew what he was doing to her, seducing her by the slow tease of his performance.

  Unable to turn away, she watched him, fascinated by the small vee of skin and smattering of brown hairs that the opening of his shirt had revealed at his neck. Finally, in one fell motion, he pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it on the pile at his feet.

  A small choking sound emanated from somewhere deep in her throat. He resembled the Greek god that she’d once compared him to. The perfection of his too-handsome face was set off magnificently by the power of his tall, well-muscled form. His naked chest was even more impressive than she’d imagined. His shoulders were broad and strong, his chest and arms layered with heavy muscles, his stomach flat and hard. His tanned skin gleamed in the candlelight, smooth except for the small triangle of hair below his collar bone and a light trail that started below his navel and disappeared beneath the waist of his breeches.

  He didn’t get muscles like that from boxing and fencing. There was a raw virility to his form that suggested more strenuous pursuits. Perhaps he mined quarry in his spare time.

  He kicked off his buckled shoes and yanked off the stockings he’d worn with the formal attire. His calves were as thickly muscled and well formed as the rest of him. But when he started to unbutton the fall front of his breeches, Genie stopped him. The embarrassment of her bold perusal had finally caught up with her.

  “Please, the lights.”

  He looked like he might tease her, but instead he moved around the room to do her bidding—providing her the opportunity to notice that his back was every bit as powerfully sculpted as his chest. When he was done, only the fire and the flame from a single candle illuminated the large chamber.

  He moved back to the side of the bed. Tore the bed coverings from her white-knuckled hold, pulled them aside and lowered himself to the bed so that he was lying half on top of her. She closed her eyes, savoring the familiar but nearly forgotten sensation of his weight on top of her. The primal feeling of protection.

  She couldn’t stop herself from touching him. She gasped at the sensation of his warm skin under her hands. He felt so smooth and yet so hard at the same time. Her fingers splayed over the powerful stacks of muscles, marveling at the way he flexed reflexively under her fingertips. There was a solidness to him that hadn’t been there before. The boy had developed into a man. Her body responded to his undeniable strength. She never fathomed how potent an aphrodisiac a naked chest could be.

  Her hand skimmed his stomach and she watched in wonder as narrow bands of muscles formed in parallel lines where she touched. Amazed, she traced the rigid bands with her fingertips, dipping lower and lower until the heel of her hand grazed the edge of his breeches. The unmistakable bulge of his erection gave her a moment’s hesitation.

  It was his turn to groan as she continued her bold exploration through the fine wool of his breeches, outlining the enormous dimensions with the palm of her hand. He was thick and long, straining against the fabric confines. His face darkened with exquisite torture as she molded him in her hand. The feeling of control excited her, never realizing that she could become so aroused just by sight and touch alone.

  He grabbed her wrist. “Enough. You’re killing me,” he said through clenched teet