Page 10 of When She Loved Me
Once outside, he scanned the length of the now emptied terrace and the immediate manicured lawns, but Sabrina and Marcus were nowhere in sight. Still holding her hand, and presently with a more purposeful gait, Trevor led her down the smooth stone steps and into the darkness along the garden path, just as Guy Fellows had attempted earlier.
“Perhaps they’ve returned to the house already,” Nicole said, hurrying her pace to keep up with his long strides, a bit unnerved by his sudden disturbing purpose. She knew of Sabrina’s affection for Marcus Trent and was beginning to be afraid of what they might find.
“We’d have seen them re-enter,” he sent back, his tone clipped.
Nicole prayed to the dear Lord that Sabrina was not so unwise as to actually disappear into the darkness with Marcus. If they were discovered by the earl, she feared for the continued existence of Marcus Trent, having witnessed the earl’s unfathomable response to finding her with Guy Fellows, and they still within the light of the house. If they were discovered by any other, Sabrina would be ruined forever.
“My lord! Sabrina would not—” she began but he stopped his chase right then, turning on her, his eyes, in the moonlight,appearing as black as this night, his beautiful features contorted with annoyance.
“Wouldn’t she?” He asked, one brow raised daringly.
“I think not,” Nicole offered, wishing that her voice had emerged with much less wavering.
“That, my dear, remains to be seen.”
“Quite ungenerous of you,” she said, once again to his back as he moved further along the path, tugging her along behind him. “I know you cannot help but to think ill of—”
“Shh,” he said, cutting her off, stopping so suddenly as to bring Nicole crashing into his back with a rather breathless, “oomph.”
“Someone comes,” he whispered over his shoulder at her, pulling Nicole off the trail, behind a wide oak. He pressed her back against the trunk of the tree and himself against her, apparently using his large form and dark evening wear to cover what he might of her white gown.
Voices, soft and whispering, reached them, coming up the trail, but still far enough away that it was unlikely their presence was realized.
Nicole could not hear what was being said, nor could she immediately define if the interlopers be male or female, but she did notice when they stopped moving. Being so still against the tree, not instantly aware of their own precarious position in the darkened garden, she listened attentively to the pair, guessing that they had parked themselves somewhere not too far from where she and Trevor hid now. She might have balked against his manhandling, and their present circumstance, but Nicole was not so naïve to not understand the possible ramifications if they were to be caught alone and in the darkness themselves.
A breathless cry of “No, not here” reached her, followed immediately by an answering, “If my father were to know of this....”
Nicole stood calmly against the tree, with Trevor’s cheek very near her ear, while only inches separated his solid chest from her bosom and his thighs from her skirts. She tried to breathe, slowly, normally, listening to the pair on the opposite side of the tree in what now sounded like—even to her uneducated ears—heavy petting and kissing. Fisting her hands at her side, she raised her head to Trevor, but his face was turned away, his forehead resting in the crook of his elbow as his forearms braced his upper body weight against the tree on either side of her head.
Breathing slowly and deeply had brought Trevor’s scent to her, as if his mere closeness could not. He smelled of spice and soap and brandy, all these flavors mingling around her. Closing her eyes, she inhaled him, her nose mere inches from his neck, a lock of his short hair tickling her forehead. Managing to tune out the sounds of the lovers on the lane, Nicole thought only of Trevor. He was big and powerful and so very handsome—all very tempting to a mere girl such as she. At that exact moment, with his body covering hers, with her eyes closed though she could see him perfectly, Nicole knew she was in trouble.
“We must return, my dove,” said the lover on the path, his voice carrying easily to Trevor and Nicole now. “As much as I’d like to bury myself inside you, we have your father and my own spouse to consider.”
At this, Nicole’s eyes flew open, finding with a quickly indrawn breath that Trevor had turned his head, his face only inches from hers, his eyes shiny and intent.
“You are right,” said the dove. “I imagine I shall have to wait to feel you inside me again.”
Eye to eye, Trevor and Nicole regarded each other, her eyes widening yet more at the dove’s response. She blinked rapidly, in disbelief or in shock, but never took her gaze from Trevor. All at once, staring into eyes she knew to be a perfect shade of sapphire, her limbs became tremulous, craving movement. Her stomach fluttered as she was now very much aware of Trevor’s breath on her face, and likewise imagined he must feel her rapid little rushes of air on him. When his gaze shifted to her lips, she unconsciously sent her tongue out to moisten them.
Without warning or pretext, Trevor’s mouth covered hers, hard. No other part of their bodies touched save their lips. Truly, only his moved, firmly molding his mouth to hers, side to side, soft then firm, but with a sense of heretofore denied urgency. Nicole could only receive him, shocked as she was by his very action, and more so by her immediate excitement.
When Trevor’s lips parted, unyielding yet almost gentle still, tasting her fully, Nicole finally responded, moving her lips to match his own apparent need to devour. She opened her mouth as he had done, as seemed natural, and heard the muted groan deep in his chest moments before his tongue entered, slick and knowledgeable, tasting and probing, rendering Nicole’s limbs utterly useless, her mind dysfunctional. Still, she found herself responding in equal measure, pushing her tongue into him. Suddenly then, he was all hands, cupping the sides of her head, turning her face one way and then the other to better slant his mouth against her. Long fingers of velvet steel slid across her neck and over her shoulders, drawing their bodies nearer.
Nicki withstood the near painful grasp of his hands on her shoulders, reacting in kind, feeling this same urgency as she raised her hands to hold him close, gripping the slight lapelsof his evening jacket. This kiss, her first, lasted an eternity, it seemed, never tender but neither frightening, only leaving her with a want of more.
At last, Trevor pulled his lips from her, breathing heavily against her mouth, resting his forehead against hers for a spare moment before lifting his gaze to scan the path in both directions.
“They’ve gone.”
And Nicole expelled a breath, lowering her face against his chest. My Lord, she thought, she’d given no thought to the lovers who might have spied upon them, no thought at all once Trevor’s lips had touched hers.
He dug his hands into her hair, bringing her eyes back to his now very searching gaze. She guessed that all he might see presently was great confusion attempting to squelch her even greater joy. But when she could look no more into those probing eyes of his, she removed her own, studying instead his lips. “I have never been kissed before,” this, breathlessly.
“Ah, Nicki,” he breathed and again took her lips, his movements less urgent now, but unyielding all the same. He traced the seam of her lips with his deft tongue, causing shivers of delight to flutter across her insides.
Guilt, however, was a hard emotion to squash, she learned, pushing against him to be free, her hands pressed against his rock hard chest. “What are we doing?” She whispered in an aching voice. “Against my own sister, I have sinned,” she cried, looking up at him for reason.
Trevor opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut and grabbed her hand off his chest. After an interminable moment, he said gruffly, “Come, I’ll take you back.” His presentgait as he led her once again along the garden path made his earlier stride appear a Sunday stroll.
