Seduced by His Touch(46)

"It is indeed," Jack agreed, thinking not only of the cold, damp night  air but of the atmosphere inside the house as well. Depending on what  Appleton revealed, he would see exactly how chilly it was bound to be.

"Is her ladyship about?" he asked.

"Milady is abovestairs. I believe she called for a tray in her room  about an hour since. Shall I send word to her of your arrival?"

Jack restrained a sigh. "No. Have a meal brought to my study, along with a bottle of burgundy. The '92, I believe."

"Right away, my lord."

Jack strode away, releasing the sigh still trapped in his chest the  moment the servant was too far away to hear. Entering his study, he took  care not to slam the door.





Grace awakened to the sensation of the mattress dipping at her back.  Only partially conscious, she knew Jack had joined her, his warmth and  the wonderful scent of his skin enveloping her only seconds before his  arms did the same.

Lying on her side, too drowsy to speak, she didn't bother to open her  eyes. Used now to the frequency of his possessions, she let him touch  her as he pleased, his broad hands sliding beneath her nightgown to  caress her with long, sweeping strokes that soon pulled a moan from her  lips.

No matter how often he took her, she never got used to the sheer beauty  of his touch-each time a new first, every encounter better than the one  that had come before.

She tried to turn then, wanting his mouth on hers. Instead he held her  in place with an arm draped across her stomach, one of her breasts  cradled in his palm. Finessing the tip until it drew up into a tight,  aching peak, he moved on to her other breast to play there with  tantalizing purpose.

Restless and abruptly needy, her breath quickened, her skin sizzling as  he scattered hot kisses over her throat and cheek and ear. Closing his  lips around her earlobe, he gave her a shiver-inducing bite before  soothing her throbbing flesh with a warm, wet lick.

Shoving her nightgown higher, he inserted a heavy, masculine thigh  between her legs. Then, holding her steady with his arm still cradled  against her belly, he penetrated her in a long, deep thrust.

She groaned, their position making her exquisitely sensitive, as he  rocked them together with increasingly harder, deeper strokes. Nudging  her knee slightly upward, he thrust again and gained total possession,  the move taking him as far as he could possibly go. He took her with a  relentless rhythm, building the ache until she thought she might go mad.

Without warning, the fever broke, rapture claiming her in a sweeping  torrent of delight. She clung, aware of him still thrusting fast and  deep within her until he found his pleasure as well.

Skin damp beneath her tangled nightgown, she lay quivering and waited for her sanity to return.

He held her for a long while, until their flesh cooled and their  breathing returned to normal. Sliding from her, he rolled away, turning  onto his back so he could go to sleep.

Relaxed and drowsy again, she waited for sleep to embrace her too. It  was only as she was drifting off that she realized neither of them had  said a word through the whole of their coupling. Maybe in this one  place, though, it was because no words were needed.





"Don't be nervous," Mallory whispered to Grace nearly seven weeks later,  as they stood together in the marble-tiled entrance to the Clybourne  House ballroom. "You're going to be brilliant."

"If you say so," Grace replied in an equally restrained tone.

The guests were due to arrive any minute now, the family gathered in  preparation of their welcome. Grace only hoped her tongue didn't seize  up when it came time to make the actual greetings.

Hosted by Edward and her mother-in-law, tonight's ball was being held in  her honor as a dual celebration of the start of the new Season and her  introduction to the Ton. As Jack's wife, she was expected to take a  place beside him in the receiving line.

Glancing across the room, she found him talking with Edward and Cade.  The three Byron men were all handsome, but to her, Jack far outshone his  siblings. He was the epitome of masculine beauty, standing tall, dark,  and dynamic in his stark black and white evening attire, his neatly  combed hair already showing a charmingly rebellious bit of wave.

Her chest grew uncomfortably tight and she looked away.

"Of course I say so," Mallory reassured her, returning Grace's attention  to the conversation at hand. "You look absolutely gorgeous in that  gown. I only wish I were allowed to wear such a strikingly deep shade of  green. But until Michael and I are wed, I shall have to content myself  with the same old maidenly whites and pale pastels."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Mallory's smile faded, a wistful expression clouding her lovely aquamarine eyes.                       
       
           


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Fully aware of the source of her discontent, Grace reached out and  squeezed her gloved hand. "He'll be back soon, and you'll hear from him  often. I'm sure he'll try to write you every day while he's gone."

"Exactly," Meg Byron stated, entering the conversation. "The military is  generally very good about delivering the mail. No matter where Papa  used to be assigned, his letters never failed to reach us. Often more  reliably than the domestic post."

Mallory gave them both a weak smile. "I know you're right. It's just  that I worry so about him down there in Spain." For a moment, the girl's  gaze strayed to Cade. Grace and Meg were aware in which direction  Mallory's thoughts had taken her, since her brother had nearly died of  his war wounds. His limp served as a permanent reminder of the price  he'd paid in service to his nation. It was only natural that she would  be afraid for her fiancé.

As for Michael Hargreaves's departure, the major had received his orders  shortly after he and Mallory had announced their engagement. They'd  barely had time to celebrate their coming nuptials, when he'd been  packing his kit and kissing her good-bye.

"The major is wise and won't take any unnecessary chances," Meg counseled. "He'll come through just fine."

"Of course he will." Mallory forced another smile and nodded. "Still, my  spirits are going to need buoying until he comes home. Until the last  of this dreadful war is over and done."

"I shall cheer you at every possible opportunity," Grace pledged. Meg seconded her promise.

Lowering her gaze, Grace took a few seconds to collect her own suddenly  scattered emotions, wishing she could ask for the same pledge.

Lord knows, I could use a measure of cheering myself these days. But  since she was supposed to make everyone, including her new family,  believe she was happy in her marriage, she had no one in whom she could  confide her troubles.

With any luck, the busy pace of the Season would keep her mind occupied  and her spirits out of the doldrums. And based on the way the last  several weeks had flown by, she had good reason to hope.

A tingle traced over her skin just then, her body recognizing Jack's  presence at her side, even before her mind did. Glancing up, she met her  husband's gaze.

"Apparently, the first guests have arrived," he said, addressing the  remark to them all. "Mama says we are to take our places now." Offering  his arm, he waited.

Grace accepted in silence, while Mallory moved to his opposite side.  Cade appeared, bending to kiss his wife with visible affection before  the pair started across the room. Seconds later, the rest of them  followed.

The next hour went better than she'd imagined it might, her initial  nerves quickly dissipating beneath the steady succession of curtseying,  smiles, and banal chitchat. The exercise had become so routine by the  end that she was almost relaxed.

Then Jack asked her to dance and her muscles drew up tight again.

"It's the expected thing for me to lead you out for the first set," he  explained on a murmur only she could hear. "Never fear, I'll be careful  not to step on your toes."

But her toes were the least of her worries. Spending the next half hour  with him while the whole room looked on-that's what worried her.

"Maybe you're the one who should worry about getting stepped on, my lord," she said with a sudden spark of defiance.

Jack laughed, his smile so warm that anyone watching would have mistaken the expression for devotion.

Oh, how deceptive looks can be, she mused.

Allowing herself to be escorted into the ballroom, she and Jack mingled  for a few minutes, furthering her acquaintance with several of the  people she'd met earlier in the receiving line.

Then the first dance was called, and couples moved onto the dance floor  to form a line for a contra dance. Facing Jack, Grace waited for the  first notes to be struck.

True to his word, he didn't come close to stepping on her feet, his  movements light and agile. But then she already knew what a superb  dancer he was from the times they'd stood up together in Bath.