Page 24 of Lover
I tucked my hands behind her knees, and she braced herself on the dresser as I lifted her legs so she was forced to slide forward, thighs opening to display the thinly concealed slip of her womanhood. The one I fully intended to ravage. Holding her legs aloft, I dipped my head, brushing my lips over the cotton fabric, damp with her lust, and as my tongue met the hill of her desire in one long stroke, I heard my name spoken with such fear that I halted immediately.
“Callum,” she choked out, unsure.
I rose up, looking into her eyes and finding shock instead of need. Understanding crushed my yearning, filling me with a sobering guilt.
“I’m a fool,” I said by way of apology, lowering her legs and adjusting her gown so it covered her body again. I rubbed a hand across my face to bring my focus out of the sensual fog. “I’m taking advantage of you. You’ve had a fright, you’re not thinking straight. Neither am I, and for you to regret…”
I couldn’t bear the idea of being the reason she felt any shame or anguish.
“Don’t you think I’m capable of knowing my own desire?” she asked, opposing my retreat, the words encouraging frisson. She desired me, and being certain of that would have to be enough.
She reached out to me, and I had no will to resist her, but the presence of high, panicked voices growing louder as they approached prevented our mistakes. I retreated farther, adjusting myself and as Millie slid from the dresser and righted her slip, Ms. Dillard came barging into the room, followed by a doe-eyed Felicity, looking better than she had in several days, though still near gaunt with exhaustion.
“Who’s hurt? Felicity said there was wailing. Fetched me from a dead sleep,” Ms. Dillard demanded, looking from me to Millie. Faster than I believed any other woman on earth was capable of, she took stock of my wife and judged for herself what had been going on. To save both of us, I gave a firm explanation.
“Miss Foxboro suffers from sleepwalking, and believed she saw someone in danger. Felicity likely heard her calling for help. Now that you’re here, Ms. Dillard, I’ll respectfully leave her to you.”
I nodded a gruff goodnight, then in impressive time, returned to the lonely solitude of my own chambers. Collapsing into a chair by the dying fire, I floated on a gray cloud ofmixed emotions, the spectral sensation of her body against mine tormenting me until the early morning.
CHAPTER 14
FOR THE FIRST time in perhaps a decade I slept until the late hours of the morning, when the bullying wind of an oncoming storm rattled the bedroom window in its frame, jostling me into reluctant consciousness. I rolled over, reaching out to pull Millie closer, only to find the bed empty, immediately recalling what my memory had misplaced so blissfully for a moment. The shock of this reality was a better cure for my drowsiness than a bucket of ice water, and I had my first taste of what it might be like for Millie to suddenly remember four forgotten years all at once.
Realizing the late hour, I galvanized into activity and began rushing to dress. The caterers and men hired to decorate the dining room would be arriving in moments to begin preparations for the party taking place tonight. I was also due in town to meet Florence, Dr. Hannigan’s niece, and prepare her for what to expect.
I was electric with anxious energy as I attended to meeting the event staff and making final changes and decisions. At a quarter to one I left Willowfield to meet with Florence, being assured when I departed that she was ready for whatever the evening brought.
Upon my return, I checked in with the caterers, took a call from Burt who stated that no one had heard from Jack since he’d happily agreed to attend, but this wasn’t strange enough to award with concern.
When I was certain things were going as they should, I returned to my room and retrieved the box that had arriveddays before—the dress Lottie had ordered for Millie. The garment was a true marvel of modern style, with its fine beadwork and scalloping, the low-waisted sash made of satin. I’d never doubted she would come up with something exceptional. Beneath the dress, also prepared by Lottie, lay something that stunned me somewhat. A set of silk stockings and underclothes, lacy and delicate. I flushed like a lad seeing such things for the first time in his life. Though unexpected, the items were for utility as much as beauty, the thin, sleek fabric made to be worn beneath the more revealing cut of the dress. Cotton would have clung, and a slip might have been too long. Still, I was forced to close the box when my mind began to craft prohibited images.
I transferred the care of the package to Ms. Dillard, then set to work on myself. Though I hadn’t worn a tuxedo in ages, rejecting all social invitationsafter Millie’s disappearance, it was an easy thing to return to, and I was happy for an opportunity to show my wife this side of me again, wishing only that she could be on my arm as she always had been.
The dinners, soirees, galas, and charity balls had all delighted Millie once she’d realized no one expected her to perform perfectly as her mother once had. She was only meant to enjoy herself.
Still, there had been times the people and expectation of conversations had grown too much for her, and she would take my hand, squeezing twice as we’d agreed upon to alert me to her need for solitude. Depending on where we were, she would excuse herself early or we would find a quiet place together until she was revitalized.
As I stood at the mirror shaving, a memory came to me, enchanting and provocative.
We’d held our wedding reception in Willowfield’s main foyer, an event Millie had helped prepare. The night was dazzling, and for hours the bright smile never left her face. Then just aftermidnight, she faded somewhat, taking a hold of my arm as though I were a buoy in the middle of a tumultuous sea.
It wasn’t easy to slip out, but I made our excuses for fresh air, promising to return, and instead of the gardens, I took Millie to the library, where the quiet often soothedher.
When the doors were closed, submerging us in comforting solitude, I brushed my fingers down her cheeks, feeling them warm.
“Feel better, my love?”
“Nearly,” she replied, reaching between her shoulders to undo the lovely lace reception dress, letting it fall into a pool at her feet.
My desire eagerly responded and I reached for her, but she danced farther into the room, shedding the remainder of her clothes as she went until her naked body gleamed in the moonlight. She could have been Leanan Sidhe, made to drive me mad with her love.
“What terrible things do you want to do to me, Callum?” she asked, a coquettish smile in her voice.
“Whatever the lady wishes.” My reply was a low vow, and I stalked her meaningfully through the shadows the night cast, while she evaded my grasp once, then twice, before I caught her, pinning her against the cold marble of the pillars by the unlit fireplace.
“You’re a saucy little thing tonight,” I said as I guided my fingers through the dark curls between her thighs, encouraging a small gasp of pleasure.
She raised her face, and said with such adoration, “Being with you makes me feel like I can do anything.”
