All About Seduction(111)

She gasped as a new wave overtook her and brought the rapture back to a new dizzying height. “Jack,” she moaned.

He lifted and watched her face as he thrust again.

She cupped his cheek. He turned and pressed a kiss into her palm. Then he rolled them until she sprawled on top of him. She tried desperately to gather herself together to provide the motion for Jack—awareness of his weakened state in the back of her mind. He thrust up into her. A new aftershock threatened to make her come undone.

He groaned, and she pressed kisses on the corner of his lips, his cheeks, and on his neck. His body was hard with tension and she urged him to the place he’d just shown her. Then his face transfixed. He met her eyes as the powerful throbs of his climax had her dissolving in a new spate of pleasurable throbs.

They lay panting with their bodies intertwined in the still room. Caroline didn’t know if she could move, her bones felt as if they had dissolved. But every breath Jack drew, she drew one too. Each time his heart beat sounded under her ear, a corresponding thump occurred in her chest. This must be what love felt like, to be so in tune with the other person that their hearts beat in tandem.

His hold was loose but secure. And she’d never felt more complete in her life. She pressed a kiss on the damp skin of his chest. He tasted slightly salty, and she pressed her lips to him once more.

“Caro,” he sighed. “Don’t get me started again.”

Could she arouse him again? But the coals in the fire and the deep stillness let her know it was late in the night. “I know you need your rest.”

“You do too, sweetheart.” The gravelly tone of his voice wrapped around her like a caress. Was she his sweetheart?

She rubbed her fingers across the firm expanse of his chest. “Is it always like this?”

“You know it is seldom like this,” he said roughly. But he leisurely caressed her.

Mr. Broadhurst had certainly never evoked this kind of wanton desire and heated pleasure, but neither had Tremont, Whitton, or Berkley. Was it because she loved Jack?

She raised her head and studied his face. He lowered his lashes, but not before she’d seen the flatness in his eyes.

Her heart jolted.

“Did we hurt your leg?”

He scowled. “My leg is no worse than before.”

The connection between them was waning far faster than she liked. A moment ago she felt as if she couldn’t separate from him, but now their breathing no longer matched. Their hearts weren’t beating as one. A wave of sadness swamped her. Reality would intrude to split them soon enough. The idea of pretending Jack meant nothing to her during the daylight hours ripped at her very soul.

She brushed her fingers across his cheek. Capturing her hand in his, he turned and pressed a light kiss on her fingertips. “Go to sleep, Caroline.”

More than exhaustion was going on. He seemed . . . flattened since his return. She had been so wrapped in her own concerns she hadn’t probed too learn what had happened to him.

“Jack . . .” She hesitated. “Why did you agree with me about today—or rather yesterday—being a horrid day?”

His eyes popped open, but he didn’t look at her and he said nothing.

“You said you went to your father’s house. You have always called it home before. Aren’t we good enough . . . friends that you can tell me what happened?” They had gone far past being friends, but they couldn’t continue as lovers. Not after she conceived anyway.

He stroked her hair back from her face.

Sensing he needed time to compose his thoughts, she waited.

“I had an appointment in London for a job, this Friday.”

“Had?”

He blew out. “I can’t make it now.” His mouth tightened.

“Of course you can’t,” she blurted. He wasn’t healed. London was hundreds of miles away. “You aren’t ready to go gadding about.”

Disappointment flickered on his face before his lips lifted in a sad smile. “I know.”

Her thoughts whirled, his talk of going to London and making his fortune, his drawings, his unexplained absence at the mill. “Is that where you were the week before the accident?”

“Yes. I took the train from Manchester to London.”

She pushed up on a straight arm. His gaze dropped to her chest. A lingering thrill trilled through her, but they had serious matters to discuss, and she was no longer certain of him. Her nightgown was on the floor and her dressing gown was over by the chair. She reached for the sheet to cover her nakedness. But the sheet didn’t make her feel less exposed.