03 - Dreams of Destiny Page 13

  “So they lived happily ever after,” Gwyneth concluded.

  “Aye, miss. That they did, but that is only part of the story.” Ann fetched a comb to work on the curls. “Now the artist I told ye about, the one who had come to the party with Charles Wesley…why, he painted four pictures about the whole event when he got back to London.”

  Gwyneth’s imagination ran wild. A picture of the lovers when they first met. Another of them running through the fields with the father and his men on horseback in close pursuit. Another of the hasty wedding. The fourth one had to be of the father’s blessing, or maybe it would be of the couple back in Germany.

  “In one of the paintings there stands a wee village lass, barefoot and dressed in rags, staring in awe at the entire proceeding.” Ann’s voice brought Gwyneth back to the present. “Well, when the new bride sees the pictures, she asks her husband to bring her back here to Gretna Green to find the child.”

  “Was the child real? The painter didn’t invent her?” Gwyneth pushed the wet hair out of her face to look up at Ann.

  “Nay, miss. The wee lass was real as you and me.”

  “Did they find her?”

  “Aye.” The young woman beamed and nodded. “The ragged lassie’s name was Effie, and she was from a verra poor family that lived just outside the village. With five wee ones and a sixth on the way, the parents were quick to agree to sell Effie to the new bride.”

  “They sold their daughter?” Gwyneth asked in disbelief.

  “Aye, miss.”

  “But they knew nothing about this couple. What happened if they intended to harm the child?”

  “When ye are poor, miss, ye dunna worry about such things.” Ann pushed Gwyneth’s head forward and lathered up her hair. “But ye can rest your mind, for our Effie went to Germany with her new parents and was schooled and brought up as a gentlewoman. In fact, when she grew up, she married a count, they say, and ne’er looked back at her humble beginnings in that tumbledown cottage near Gretna Green.”

  “That is not a very happy tale,” Gwyneth whispered. “Especially not for her family. The least she could have done was to come back, maybe to visit, or even help them financially in some way.”

  The maidservant sted to rinse Gwyneth’s hair, but some of the soap went into her eyes, burning them badly.

  “I ne’er thought on it that way, miss,” Ann said pensively.

  A knock on the door startled them both. Gwyneth splashed her face with the water to wash away the soap, but the stinging only got worse.

  “That’d be one of the lads with the pitcher of warmed rinse water,” Ann explained, running to get the door.

  Gwyneth sank down into the tub as far as she could. There was some whispering at the door, and she was relieved when she heard it close quickly again.

  “So are you by any chance any relation to this Effie?” Gwyneth asked when she felt the water begin to pour gently over her head and face to wash away the lather.

  “I don’t believe I know any Effie.”

  At the sound of his deep voice, Gwyneth almost leapt out of the tub. She sputtered and forced her eyes open despite the stinging.

  “What are you doing here?” She grabbed her shift, covering her breasts and trying to stretch the length of it over her bare legs. She pushed the wet hair off her face.

  “I have simply returned to my room,” David said smugly as he crouched down beside the tub, the pitcher of water in his hand.

  “What do you mean, your room? This is my room.”

  “Well, if you insist on being precise, our room.” His gaze strayed from her face to her neck and to where she was holding the wet fabric tightly against her breasts. “Unfortunately for you, we haven’t the luxury of separate rooms in this tavern. This appears to be the busy season for the marriage trade.”

  “There must be other taverns.” She battled the end of her undergarment that was trying to float to the surface. She drew her knees tightly against her chest. “If not, you can just sleep in the stables.”

  “Indeed. But I’m quite sure I shall enjoy this far better. You still have soap in your hair.” He poured more water over her head.

  Gwyneth didn’t have enough hands to battle him. “David Pennington. What you are trying to do is the most childish thing any man could pull. You are a rogue, a coward, and a villain. You are taking advantage…” She sputtered and stopped as he nearly drowned her, dumping the entire pitcher of water over her head.

  “You have the prettiest array of freckles all over your shoulders. And you have the most beautiful back.”

  Gwyneth stiffened as she felt his fingers slide gently over her back. She had no success in fighting the heat pooling in her middle. As always, her body never listened to reason when it came to David. She pushed the hair off her face and turned to him. “David, I told you before that nothing can happen between us. That…”

  His gaze was focused on her breasts. She looked down and realized that the wet shift she was holding against her body was nearly transparent. Her nipples were showing boldly through. She crossed her arms to cover them. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  The intensity of his blue eyes burned her skin. “I am not doing it alone, Gwyneth. You started this when you were younger and chased me all over Baronsford.”

  eight="0" width="29"> “I was just a foolish child. I had painted a picture of you in my mind as a hero. There was nothing…well, there was nothing intimate about it.”

  “But that changed as you became older, did it not?” he teased. “Or was that all innocence when you would sit yourself in my lap not so long ago? And how about last year, at Baronsford, and when I came down to the cliffs to see you? You cannot deny that something passed between us that day. And I have not even begun on the way you have been behaving since starting together on this trip.” His fingers slid from her back to the side of her throat.

  Her face burned as her breasts strained upward, awaiting his touch. But he withdrew his hand.

  “There is a history between us that we cannot deny, Gwyneth.”

  “Very well! I admit it, we are physically drawn to each other,” she groaned, beaten. “But this should give us more reason to keep our distance. I have made up my mind to marry someone else, and you can have any other woman you want. There are surely a dozen beautiful girls at least, in this village alone, who would gladly climb into this tub with you. Go after them, not me.”

  He started pulling off his boots.

  “What are you doing?” she asked in panic.

  “You gave me an idea.”

  Gwyneth stared in shock when he pulled the shirt over his head. “David, I still have the semblance of a reputation left. You…”

  “I am afraid I destroyed that by paying that maidservant off when she let me in here. She does appear to be the gossipy kind.” He stood up and started unbuttoning his breeches. “But I do indeed need to bathe.”

  Her mouth went dry. His chest was broad and muscled, narrowing at his waist. She closed her eyes as he pushed his breeches down, but not before catching a glimpse of the dark hair leading downward from his navel and then his hardening manhood. Hot flashes of panic swept through her.

  “Give me my towel,” she squeaked. “Turn your back. I should like to get out of here.”

  “’Tis too far for me to reach.”

  She opened her eyes for a moment, only to shut them again at the sight of a muscled thigh right next to the tub. “You will not force me against my will. You are too much of a gentleman—”

  “I was a rogue and a villain not a minute ago.”

  “I have changed my mind.” Gwyneth reached out blindly toward the towel that she remembered lay at the foot of the bed. “Give me that thing and I shall be out of your way…”

  “I still need to wash your back.”

  “David, this is not funny. You are going far beyond any decent—”

  His foot brushed against her buttocks as he stepped into the tub. In sheer panic, Gwyneth leapt to her feet.
As David’s arm encircled her waist, though, the thrill of her wet back against his warm chest froze her. His arousal pressed hard against her.

  “Stay, Gwyneth,” he whispered huskily into her ear. His mouth kissed the wet skin of her neck and shoulder. “I shall never do anything that you do not want me to do.”

  She was like a sheep being led to slaughter, but she was going willingly. There was no way on earth she could have moved from his embrace.

  “Everything about you is so beautiful.” His hands moved from her waist, caressing her arms, ever so slowly pushing her hands and the wet shift she was clutching away from her body. Her breasts spilled into view, wet and glistening. “You have been driving me crazy with desire.”

  There was no fear in her. That was gone, and only excitement filled her now. There was certainly no thought of decency. She watched one large hand gently rub the wet fabric across her stomach. The other hand cupped her breast, and his thumb and forefinger gently played and then squeezed her nipple. The sensation was maddening, and she felt her legs go weak.

  He moved his other foot into the tub. His manhood nestled intimately against her. He tugged the chemise out of her hand and let it drop into the water. “Why don’t you sit down here with me?”

  “We shouldn’t. ‘Tis wrong,” she whispered even as she leaned against him. She gasped with a mixture of shock and pleasure when his hand slid downward, stoking the heat that he had ignited in her. She said nothing as he lowered them both into the tub.

  The water came up and splashed over the sides when he positioned her between his legs. There was no extra space in the tub, and he drew her tightly against his chest with his arms—leaning her back until the private parts of her body were completely exposed to his look and his touch.

  “I like this,” he growled. “We fit perfectly.”

  The contrast between their bodies alone was more exciting than she could bear. His arms and legs were long and muscled and covered with fine dark hair. She looked down at her pale skin, at her breasts floating in and out of the water with each breath she took. A new rush of liquid heat gathered in the center of her as his fingers started playing with the hardened tips of her nipples.

  This was far more daring than any scene she’d ever written in any of her stories. It was more exciting than she could have ever imagined. When his other hand moved down her belly to the juncture of her legs, she knew David was set to make a liar out of her again.

  “Open for me,” he whispered, gently pushing her knees apart.

  She grabbed his wrist. “I told you before. I have never done this.”

  “I know, my love.” He bit on her earlobe, tasted her neck. “I shall be gentle. I shan’t do anything you do not want me to do.”

  Gwyneth felt her breath go short as she watched his hand dip into the water again, touching sensitive folds of her flesh. She tensed the moment he dipped a finger inside of her and felt the resistance.

  “My innocent Gwyneth. I shall take care of you.”

  She looked over her shoulder at David to tell him she was frightened, and his mouth was there, capturing hers. And until their lips sealed, she hadn’t realized how much she’d needed this. Gwyneth’s tongue tangled with his, and she welcomed him deep into her mouth. This time it was she who heard his groan of pleasure.

  He turned her in his arms, and more water splashed over the side. Their h wass continued to feast on each other as they moved together until she was straddling him. Her flesh ached for him, and she held his face, controlling the kiss, feeding on him and wanting to see him suffer as he was making her suffer.

  He was breathless when he tore his mouth away. “This is…this is…I am losing control. I want you now.”

  She felt wicked and powerful in a way she had never felt. Instinctively, she slid her hips closer to him, her breasts rubbing against his chest. She locked her knees against his hips.

  “I shan’t let you be in charge.” Gwyneth bit on his bottom lip before drawing it onto her mouth.

  A deep laugh rumbled in his chest. “Then get ready to play, you pixie.” Sliding his hands beneath her buttocks, he lifted her up.

  Gwyneth gasped with pleasure when his mouth closed around her nipple. The sensation that shot through her was like lightning. The suction created by his lips as his tongue and teeth teased the sensitive buds made her hold David’s head tight to her breast. She never wanted the delicious torment to end. But the pressure inside her body continued to build. He moved from one breast to the other. His hand moved to the juncture of her thighs, and she arched her back and gasped as he slipped a finger inside of her, stroking the sensitive folds.

  “David,” she cried. “I feel like I am racing. I don’t know how…” Her vision was a blur, her heart pounded. The need to move to some unknown finish made her move restlessly against him.

  “Hold on to me,” he growled.

  Gwyneth’s arms held him tight around the neck when he stood up in the tub. He stepped out, taking her with him. They were both completely naked, but she’d forgotten what the shyness meant. Anticipation, hovering over the edge of an abyss and wanting to dive into it, was the only thing that ruled her mind.

  David set her down next to the bed. Unsteady on her feet, she saw him fetch the towel and throw off the bed coverings. The muscled V of his back, his buttocks and legs, he could have been carved from marble, beautiful as he was. And his manhood! She stared at the size of it with disbelieving eyes. She knew how men and women mated. She shook her head.

  “We shall never fit together,” she whispered.

  The sound of his laughter was strained. His eyes were smoldering with desire when he walked toward her, the towel in his hand. “I shan’t hurt you, Gwyneth.”

  He gently rubbed at the wetness on her hair, dried her arms, her back. She watched the rippling play of the muscles in his chest and arms when he patted the water from her breast. She held her breath when he knelt beside her and dried her legs. Then, his hand moved between her legs, dipped into the wetness inside. Drawing her to him, he circled her nipple with his tongue. She let out a soft cry when he suckled hard on it.

  “Let me dry you now.” She tried to take the towel as he stood up, but he held it away from her.

  “Not this time,” he replied, hastily wiping himself off. “I won’t make it.”

  “What do you mean, this time?” she asked in bewilderment.

  “I asked them to leave the tub untilning.” He brushed her lips with his own, a devilish smile lingering at the corner of his mouth. “I plan to ravish you at least a dozen times before morning, both in and out of that water.”

  Her sharp intake of breath made him laugh again. “I love your passion.” He backed her toward the bed. She sat down when the backs of her legs brushed against the mattress. He leaned over, lifting her higher up the mattress. “I love your sense for adventure.”

  “You think I am bold,” she whispered as he laid her down on the coverings.

  “I think you are perfect.” His blue gaze caressed her face and moved down her body.

  Gwyneth couldn’t lie still under his scrutiny. Her nakedness was complete. She’d wanted this for as long as she could remember. She wanted nothing more than to be David’s. She wanted him to take her, to brand her as his own. She wanted back the dizziness she’d felt a moment earlier—that sense of floating on the edge. She was ready to go over that edge with him. She opened her arms to him, wanting to feel his weight on top of her body. He came to her.

  “Make love to me, David.” She kissed his jaw, the corner of his lips. She shifted on the mattress in anticipation when she felt the crown of his manhood nestle between her legs.

  “I shall not share you with anyone, Gwyneth.” He lay one large hand against her cheek, his blue eyes boring into hers. “Once I make you mine, ‘tis forever.”

  Her reason cut through the cloud of passion. “We are joining our bodies. For as long as we are lovers, I shall be true to you.”

  He smiled down at her. “We sha
ll be much more than lovers. I intend to marry you.”

  “You cannot. I already have another husband-to-be.”

  “And the cur can rot in hell. You are mine.” His mouth hovered over hers, his thumb fondling her straining nipple.

  Gwyneth couldn’t stay still beneath his touch, but she forced out her words.

  “I shall not marry you, David,” she said, looking stubbornly into his blue eyes.

  “Why?”

  “I have already explained.”

  “Then I shall need to change your mind.” He moved slowly down her body.

  Gwyneth’s hands clutched at the sheets as his mouth and hands busied themselves with her breasts. She looked up at the smoke-darkened ceiling, trying to fight the mounting waves.

  “Only lovers. That’s all I can promise.”

  The rogue laughed again, moving farther down her body. His hands pushing her knees apart, moving under her and cupping her bottom.

  “You and I both know that you saved this for me, Gwyneth.”

  She was shocked by what he was doing. She burned in sudden panic as he lifted her hip and his breath whispered against the very center of her. There was no fighting it, though—no wish for him to be doing anything other than exactly what he was doing. Her fingers fisted the sheets tighter.

  “David!” she panted

  “You are mine, Gwyneth.”

  She cried out aloud from the shock and the excitement when his mouth pressed into her. She shook and moved helplessly around him with no thought but amazement at the sensations of heat and cold as the colors of fire engulfed them. Suddenly, she felt herself being swept over the edge of rapture, her body convulsing as she curled around him.

  An instant later, David pushed her back on the pillows. She was still riding waves of bliss when he positioned himself between her legs. She felt no pain as he entered and drove deep inside her. The instant they were joined, she felt herself close around him like a sheath. Awareness returned like a soft breeze slowly stirring a mist.