ravel the world, exploring Italy, France, Egypt, the places and distant horizons in your hearts, will you do it with a man in a wheeled chair?”
“Yes!”
“Liar,” he snapped.
“Do you doubt the feelings that have grown down to my very soul for you?”
“They will not last.”
“Do not presume to judge the strength and honor of my character.” Her voice broke, and to her astonishment, her eyes were welling. She had stopped dreaming of children and a husband so very long ago. She had known such things were not meant for her, not when she had her mother and sisters to protect and ensure they had a bright future.
But from the night she’d danced with the duke, something unfathomable had pierced that acceptance. She had hoped again for the dream of love and family, the desire to see the world, or as much of it as she could, which had once been hers. What she hadn’t expected but wanted more than anything in the world was the wonder of the man before her. And now it felt as if her heart was being utterly devastated.
“I can make you happy,” she breathed out shakily.
“I do not doubt it,” he said hoarsely. “Because you already do, my Katherine. You already do.”
She reached between them and pressed the flat of her palm against his chest, right above his heart. She could feel its beat drumming fast and hard beneath her touch, and his chest was moving rapidly.
“Let me love you,” she whispered against the pulse fluttering madly at his throat before biting down hard.
The words fell into the space between them. She leaned back and met his stare. He looked helpless, hungry, and before he could protest, she shifted in his lap so her legs spread open over his thighs. The man looked so shocked, she almost laughed, but only a hoarse, choked sob escaped her. He inhaled sharply as she rolled against him.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, gripping her hips as if he would shove her from his lap.
Nothing was clear to her at this moment. It was all an irrational cry in her heart, but with unshakable certainty, she felt that with touches and kisses and whatever it was that men and women did to make babies, she could show him all could be well. “Impudence has many wicked forms, you know,” she breathed and took his lips in an open-mouthed kiss.
Kitty poured all the feelings in her soul for him into the embrace, licking and biting on his bottom lip and then soothing the sting. She was so lost in him already. With a moan, his lips parted, the hands gripping her hips slipped around to her buttocks and grasped her. It was her turn to sigh, to shiver, and to slide her tongue against his. The hands gripping her buttocks clenched harder, tugging her close and rocking her onto the hardness beneath her.
Kitty cried into his kiss, feeling all sense of control spiraling, caught in a storm of reckless passion and desperation she could not touch or explain. She was helpless against the sweeping sensations working through her body. She allowed her fingers to coast over the sleek, powerful muscles of his chest.
There was movement. He’d lifted her, and now she was beneath him, spread wide for his ravishment. There was furious rustling as he shaped her sodden gown and petticoats to his will, pushing them to her waist. Yet they never stopped kissing. The air felt charged, throbbing with erotic sounds and scents. They broke apart, panting, and she stared into the beauty of his blue eyes.
Love, affection, respect.
“With you I do not know who I am. I feel so much for you, my Katherine, and I do not want to hide it,” he said, holding her gaze with infinite tenderness and that flaming adoration.
She saw it so clearly, and with trembling hands, she touched his lips. He reached between them, his knuckles brushing against her wet sex.
Kitty’s moan echoed in the conservatory.
And he did it again, rubbing his knuckles over the aching folds of her sex. Kitty had never dreamed any touch there could feel that wonderful. His fingers glided up to her nub and rubbed. She screamed, hips jerking at the terrible lash of ecstasy. A large bluntness pressed against her entrance, and he pushed. The pressure felt enormous and decidedly unpleasant. Her breath gasped from her at the burning sensation, then the feeling vanished.
Alexander rolled from her, falling to the cold floor of the conservatory, his expression twisted with agony. For one bleak, horrifying moment, she froze. She had never seen such pain, and the very sight of it on his beloved face nearly undid her. He gasped as another twinge of agony shot through him. Kitty pushed to her knees and knelt beside him. Fear iced through her as his body jerked and spasmed with violent force. She held him, afraid to release him, for his head would knock against the hard stone floor.
She grabbed a cushion from the chaise longue and pressed it beneath his head. But his convulsion dislodged it again. He stilled, a groan rumbling from his chest, sheens of sweat on his body.
“My back,” he groaned harshly. “Something is wrong.”
Kitty was cold and shaking with a frightened knot twisting in the pit of her stomach. “I’ll go for help,” she said, gently easing away and hurriedly fixing her wet clothes to some semblance of decency.
Then she ran from the conservatory.
Chapter Twenty
“Get that goddamn leech off me,” Alexander snarled, his eyes snapping open, an unbearable fire tormenting his lower back. He grabbed the slimy creatures sucking at his chest and flung them away from him. The pain pummeling his body was a ravaging force and reminded him of the agony in the early days of his healing.
“Your Grace!” Dr. Monroe cried, quickly pulling away the rest of the slimy, blood-sucking creatures from his chest. “I believe there is an infection in the blood, and they are needed to assist your recovery! You are feverish and not yourself at the moment.”