Garrett remained silent, and her nerves sparked. Abbie had no idea what option he would choose.
“And if I do not place the curse aside?”
“Megan and I will return to Standon as soon as I can arrange it. Now that she has met your family, I would never deny her visits. She and your father have already formed a bond.”
He laughed cynically. “Yes. But not with me.”
“It will come… in time,” Abbie replied softly.
“Do you know what you are asking? The curse has been a part of me since I was a child.”
“I understand. I even empathize. But if we are to have a future…”
“You want us to have a future?”
She bit her lower lip. “I’d like to attempt it.”
“As would I. You wish a fresh start? I will try.”
She cried out with relief as tears trickled down her cheeks.
Garrett continued, “For I cannot deny my feelings any longer, nor can I push you away. Not again. It would kill me, completely hollow me out until nothing remained but an empty shell of a man. The curse is still with me, Abbie. It is seared on my soul the same as you are. God help us if the curse rears its ugly head. But I vow I will do all I can to not allow it to rule my life.” He slammed his glass on the table, rose to his feet, and walked toward her. Garrett helped her stand, then brushed the tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “Let us start over.”
She gave him a shaky smile. “Get to know one another, learn to love again?”
“Again? A ghraidh, mo chridhe. I never stopped loving you. Ever.” He captured her mouth in a desperate, wild kiss. Abbie returned it, caressing his tongue with hers. Everywhere their bodies made contact increased the heat crackling between them.
“I haven’t heard those words for years. I remember clearly when you first said them to me. ‘My love, my heart.’ You mean it, truly?”
“Besides a couple of other short phrases, it’s the only Gaelic I know. I often heard my grandfather call my grandmother such during my visits. Grandfather Mackinnon said, ‘Heed me, laddie. ’Twill melt a woman’s heart if ye whisper these words in her ear.’” She laughed at his Scottish burr. “I have not spoken them to anyone…not since you.” He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. “Yes, I mean it. Truly.”
Garrett had never stopped loving her. Abbie’s heart soared with joy. But caution bade her not to return the sentiment. Not yet. She had to be completely sure of his feelings and see if his claim of tossing the curse aside held truth. Beyond that, no more teasing. She kissed him, running her hands through his silky, ginger locks.
Scooping her up in his arms, Garrett ran to the bedroom, lowered her, then kissed her deeply. Abbie fumbled with the buttons of his breeches, and when she finished she broke the kiss, grabbed fistfuls of the wool material, and yanked it, along with his drawers, down his hips until they fell to the carpet. “Oh. As I remember.”
“Allow me to see you,” he rasped.
“One of us must stay dressed. Tonight will be all about touching and kissing. Nothing more. Another night, I promise.” She crooked her finger as she backed up. “Remove your shirt, lie on the bed, and allow me to explore every muscled valley and plane. Every hard part of you.”
Bloody hell, he was near to bursting. All she would have to do is touch him and he would explode. First, better ensure their privacy. He strode to the door, closed it, and turned the key. No one would be interrupting them if he had anything to say about it. Next, he did as she commanded and lay on the large bed, eagerly awaiting her. The fireplace was large, the flames casting the room in a golden glow and enhancing the sensual mood.
“Stunning,” she murmured as she crawled toward him from the foot of the bed. He spread his legs to make room for her, and she immediately ran her tongue along his hipbone up to his waist. Abbie grasped his shaft and he quaked with desire, using all his inner strength not to climax. Giving him a couple of strokes, she continued to lick and kiss him until her mouth was inches away from the head of his prick. How often had he dreamed of this only to deny it the next morning?
Her mouth enveloped him and he cried out. Abbie’s cheeks hollowed, her tongue busily trailing across his distended veins. His hips rose on their own accord, eager for her to take him deeper. Take him all. “Yes, taste me,” he moaned, keeping his voice low. “Please,” he pleaded. He never said please to any woman. Only Abbie.
It didn’t take long, as he’d been on the edge of the precipice since she’d appeared in his life once again. Watching her head bob between his legs was a memory that he would savor forever. He wrapped her coal-black hair about his wrist as he gently lifted his hips. “Abbie… God… Hell.” Colors burst behind his eyelids, his neck cords straining with the force of his release. His entire body bucked and shuddered.
Abbie released him, then smiled as she cuddled in next to him. “You taste as enticing as I remember.”
He couldn’t catch his breath. Finally, he found his voice and pulled her close. “And you are still the sensuous siren of our youth.” They lay together for several moments. Sated, but energized, he turned Abbie on her back and pushed her nightgown past her waist. “Allow me to return the favor.”
Hot. Wet. Glorious. He ran his tongue across her folds, then spread them with his fingers and dived in deeper as his thumb worked her sensitive nub. Abbie moaned. It would not take long for her either. Garrett feasted, and hardened once again. With his free hand, he stroked himself in concert with the licking motion of his tongue. The wet sound of their oral ministrations, the musky scent of arousal. There was no one else in the world but the two of them, exactly how it had been in the past.
Abbie arched her back and cried out, her head hitting the pillow over and over with each tremble of her body. Garrett pulled her close to his heart, savoring her release while he continued to stroke his shaft. A moment later he joined her, burying his face in her neck, his eyes burning from intense emotions. Bloody hell, he loved her.
Garrett lay on the bed and motioned for her to follow him. “Stay. Sleep in my arms.”
Abbie sighed wistfully. “I would love nothing more, but we don’t want to cause a scandal.”
His eyebrows rose. “What do you think we’ve been doing from the moment we met?”
“Well, true enough. But we agreed to keep this quiet for the time being. Plus, think of Megan. I want us to be completely sure before revealing this. Besides, there is the getting-to-know-you business to see to.”
Garrett laughed. “I believe that we have moved beyond the boundaries of courting.”
“Not for us, my darling.” She playfully swatted him. “I will stay for a short while, then I must return to my room.”
As Garrett lay with Abbie curled around him, a warning bell tolled in his head. He would never forgive himself if he placed Abbie and Megan in danger. He spoke the truth when he stated the curse was still with him. Vigilance was warranted. But when she lay in his arms like this, nothing else mattered. Not curses, past hurts, youthful mistakes, or regrets. He was in love with a glorious woman—the same woman—for the first and last time in his life.
Chapter 11
Once they had indulged in a late brunch, Megan and Abbie were escorted to the Wollstonecraft carriage with a promise that it would return later in the evening for dinner. Abbie did not own a fancy gown, but the earl had assured her that it would not be a formal affair.
As the footmen unloaded their cases and carried them into the residence, Abbie placed her hands on her cheeks. Still flushed and tingling from her passionate encounter with Garrett the night before. How would she be able to keep this secret? Much had been resolved, truths spoken, feelings admitted, but nothing pleased her more than him agreeing to a new beginning and to place the curse aside. It was as if a black cloud had been lifted from her heart, at least partway. She would remain optimistically cautious.
Alberta greeted her warmly, calling for the tea tray as they all settled into the parlor. Megan and Jonas exchanged shy glances but did not speak.
“How was the visit, Megan?” Alberta asked.
Her face lit up. “Oh, Mrs. Eaton, the place is a palace, or at least as large as one. The earl gifted me with a signed copy of Frankenstein. The author is his fourth cousin. Can you imagine! He and the viscount were ever so kind, and the food! I thought I would burst.”
The housekeeper entered with the tea tray and a plate of lemon biscuits and placed them on the table in front of Alberta. “Thank you, Mrs. Claxton.” As she poured, she asked, “And what did you think of Garrett Wollstonecraft?”
Abbie’s insides tumbled with apprehension as she awaited her daughter’s reply.
Megan’s mouth turned down. “At first glance he’s frightening, with his size and all. But he kept us busy going for rides around the estate, playing parlor games, and giving tours of the libraries. They have three.” She paused as Alberta handed her a teacup and saucer. “Perhaps someday I will like him well enough. I am still angry, in here.” Her daughter placed a closed fist to her chest. “I do not need or want a father, and I feel as if I am being forced to accept him.”