He tugged her closer and kissed her temple. “You are not one of them. There is not a duplicitous bone in your body.”
“I did not know what to do before, and I still do not know what to do now,” Rachel admitted. “I cannot confront my mother again as that had not worked before, and it will not work again. What am I going to do?”
“Do you have any friends you can go to?” William asked.
“No,” she shook her head. “And that would not work at all; they would just come for me.”
“Another reason why these parents are not true to you,” William said. “They have cut you off from people, ladies your age, to keep you wholly dependent on them and to mold you into what they want from you. They are not worthy of being called parents.”
“It is a hard thing to say, but yes, I must admit it is true,” Rachel twisted her head to look at the darkening sky. “But I am trapped, William. I have no one to run to, and even if I did, I would not get far.”
William reached for her hand and held it, “I love you, and if I had any way…”
His words trailed off, but Rachel knew what he was trying to say, and she appreciated it. “I know,” looking over her shoulder to the house, she added, “I will see you on the morrow.”
“Good night, sweetheart,” he said tenderly. “Forgive me?”
She kissed his cheek, “Of course.”
“Thank you,” he smiled.
Taking the path, she got inside, made it to her room and found Jane waiting on her. “Jane…” she asked the maid. “Is something wrong?”
Silently, Jane gestured to a dress resting on the bed. “Her Grace has sent up your engagement dress, My Lady. Lord Strathmore is going to come in a sennight to ask you to marry him.”
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Chapter 16
Uneasily, Rachel twisted and turned in her bed. The knowledge that she was soon to be married off—no, traded off—for her parent’s gain rested heavily on her chest. Her sleep was uneasy, and her dreams were mired in smoke and mystery.
Callused male hands slid up her body, the roughness of them making the depths of her body quiver. He took her arms with his hand to pin them over her head, pushing a gasp from her.
It was then that her other senses came into play, and she found herself on a bed of the softest down and her head clouded with desire. Her body trembled with anticipation while her lungs were filled with the familiar scent of olive soap and citrus.
“My prince…” she moaned.
He chuckled while his mouth skimmed down her neck, “I am not a prince.”
“Warrior then?”
“No.”
She tried to lift her hand but felt them still trapped—a frightening seductive act. His lips inched to her mouth, and while Rachel knew that it would be prudent to turn away, but she did not. His kiss was potent enough to make her bones melt, and her heart become liquid.
“You taste of bon-bons and honey…” a husky voice said in her ear as the man’s mouth skimmed over her jaw to get to the curve of her ear. He nipped the tender lobe, and shocks danced along the delicate shell. “I love you, sweetheart. Your body is calling to me.”
She panted as the sensations unfurled within her, and she tried to focus but felt her head clouded with desire. She felt the tips of her breasts turned taut and throbbing against her chemise, and a strange wet heat pooled between her thighs.
“Let me go,” she whispered.
His hands lifted, and she reached for him, winding her arms about his neck as he bent to move his lips down her body. As she swooned at his kisses, she gasped at the shock of his hot skin covering hers. Heat rolled off his skin, burning hers in a wonderful revelation.
He was far larger and heavier than she, and Rachel could easily have been overpowered by him, yet his hands were gentle, his touch almost worshipful as he explored her body. The hair on his chest was coarse, chafing delightfully against her sensitive silky flesh. Rachel shivered again as his lips traced over her collarbone and dipped to her nipple.
The contrast of his hot mouth and cool air from the window making her skin break out in gooseflesh. Their kisses became deeper, a growing urgency possessing her body. Desperate for more of him, needing to be closer, she raised her legs, clinging to his hips, an instinctive movement that her lover took no time in responding to.
She gripped at his shoulders, insensible at the feel of his lips pressing open-mouthed kisses down her neck. Adding fuel to a fire that was beyond containing. The shimmering sensation building inside her, clutching at his shoulders as he murmured into her ear.
